Perdition's Rest

by J. C. Placeres

  Whereas the Blood Church ruled Aunia with an iron fist as both church and state, the Church of the Flesh was quite the opposite. The Tormos church carried a tremendous deal of political weight in Juxton, but they had no real say in the day to day running of the empire which was handled by the governing representatives and royal families. The family units that were considered royalty were those which had first joined up with Thunvold when he united the clans two thousand years prior. The Church of the Flesh had its own royal family of sorts and Vuurbin was one of the lucky members to be part of said leadership. When the church initially formed two thousand years ago under the care and guidance of Charvold, the high priest selected his ten most devoted followers to help run the church with him. These first unquestioned believers became the priests of the flesh. All ten priests of the flesh, along with Charvold, resided in Juxon Cathedral. The smaller churches were in turn run by lesser priests. The Juxon Cathedral by far had the biggest following and every day the daily service was packed with a large crowd. The priests of the flesh took turns conducting services on a set schedule, with Charvold conducting services on special occasions.

  Within the last week or so however, the number of people attending service had exploded exponentially. The Juxon Cathedral was a massive structure, in the rear were private residential quarters for the priests, however the nave was a gargantuan structure with a domed roof that arced so high that the top was lost in shadows. For today’s service, as the day before and every day over the last week, the crowd of attendees was so large that it stretched out the doors into the streets of Juxon City. Vuurbin knew exactly what was causing the cathedral to be more packed than ever before: fear.

  News of the failed reincarnations and subsequent deaths were spreading like wildfire amongst the populace. In the face of unknown terror, the people turned to the Church of the Flesh, the one place that claimed to have answers. Vuurbin of course knew that the priests of the flesh had no explanation for why the Three were keeping those that passed, but his job was now to appear strong and brave in the face of uncertainty. Vuurbin gently patted the Book of Flesh while gazing out at the massive crowd before him. The nave was so packed that many Tormos were standing in the aisles. Due to its gargantuan size, long ago the Geomancer Guild had cast enchantments near the podium that forced the granite walls to better project sounds for all to hear, thus even those far away could hear the speaker at the pulpit.

  “I was planning on reading you some passages from the Book of Flesh, but I think perhaps we should talk about something else first. I’m sure many of you have been here every day for the last week, and yet with each passing day I see more and more new faces. This is all to be expected though as we are living in dark times. I'm also sure that all you've been hearing from us over the last week is about how much the Three love us and how the plethora who have passed, never to return, are in a better place now. We speak about how those that are lost to us are now in the warm loving embrace of the Three. While all of that is true and should not be forgotten, I want to talk to you about something different for a moment.”

  “There’s a book of parables in the cathedral library that I’ve often read when contemplating the Three. In said book is a story that I never thought much of until now and I'd like to speak to you about it briefly. Shortly after Vesnian’s creation, the wolves of the land were numerous and solitary. They roamed the land with impunity doing what they wanted when they wanted. However eventually Lunara and Juxon created humans who, while sparse at first, quickly began to multiply and consume all the resources available to them. As the humans expanded, the wolves started to get slain in greater numbers. The wolves, upset at the encroachment of newcomers, began attacking back, but they were unable to stem the tide of human expansion. The wolves began to curse Lunara and Juxon for the slaughter wrought upon them. Every night when Lunara was high in the sky the wolves would howl at her in anger for killing off so many of their kin. Yet Lunara was deaf to their cries and as the years passed, the wolves lost more and more until they were forced into the last remaining forests. In the thickness of the trees the wolves had no choice but to band together into close knit packs.”

  “The wolves that remained were smart, vicious and agile. The forest became a dangerous place for the humans because within lurked dangers abound. To this day the wolves still howl during the night in anger at Lunara for the atrocities she allowed of their brothers and sisters. However, I ask you my friends, are the wolves perhaps mistaken? The wolves were so blinded by fear and despair at the loss of their loved ones that they failed to see what Lunara had done – she made them stronger. Only through adversity did the wolves become the warriors they are today, one of the reasons we revere them so. Only through having to avoid human traps did the wolves become smart and cunning. Only through having to dodge human hunting parties did the wolves become swift and elusive. Only through having to fight to survive did the wolves become strong and vicious.”

  “Now what are we doing? For some reason Lunara has chosen to keep those who have passed, clutching them tight in her loving embrace. Those of us down here meanwhile cry out to her. Perhaps you are asking her why she has decided to keep your loved ones from you. Perhaps you are asking her why she is doing this now. You may also be asking if there is something we’ve done to upset her. What you don’t notice though is that each day you become a little stronger. Do you know what breeds strength? Adversity breeds strength, it teaches us to become something more than we normally are. We must become tempered in the forge of suffering in order to become something greater. You may feel sorrow at being left behind and kept from the Three’s loving embrace. You may also feel sadness at having your loved ones taken away from you. Sorrow is not the correct emotion you should be feeling. Gratitude - that is what you owe the Three right now. The dead should feel gratitude for they are with the Three from now until the end of time. We should feel gratitude for Lunara is tempering us into something better. The White Watcher is always looking to improve us and our lives, that is the strength of her love. So, I ask each of you: Will you continue to howl in the night? Or are you willing to accept the Three’s master plan?”

  Vuurbin flashed a warm and loving smile out across his flock and opened the Book of the Flesh in front of him. “Now that our little discussion is over, let us get back to more traditional fair. Let’s have everyone open up their Book of the Flesh and I shall begin reading."

  * * *

  “You certainly have a way with the people, I’ll give you that Vuurbin. The masses absolutely adore you.”

  Vuurbin sat in his small personal quarters which could have doubled for a prison cell if it weren’t located in the Juxon Cathedral. Vuurbin looked up from his writing to see Charvold standing in his doorway.

  “Might I come in and chat with you for a second Vuurbin?” The high priest politely asked his subordinate.

  “Of course, holy one," said Vuurbin graciously, "please come sit on my bed.”

  Vuurbin stood up and closed the door behind Charvold causing the small room to become even more cramped. The only furniture in the room was a bed, chair, desk and burning brazier that hung from the wall. Vuurbin long contemplated removing the brazier as due to living almost their entire lives underground, the Tormos had excellent vision in the dark and he pondered why they even bothered lighting certain rooms. Charvold took a seat on the small bed while Vuurbin sat across from his superior in his desk chair. Vuurbin, same as Charvold and every other priest of the flesh, wore plain unadorned brown robes. His head was shaven in uniformity with the priesthood and the light silver of his skin faintly reflected the light from the flickering torch.

  “I wasn’t joking by the way, they really adore you," continued Charvold. "When coming in today I heard many of the commoners discussing your sermon, you certainly have a way with people.”

  “I live to serve your holiness. Why else were we put in this world but to help and love one another?” Vuurbin stated the question with his famous warm smile. />
  “Indeed, however I haven’t come here to discuss the scriptures with you unfortunately." Charvold let out a slight sigh, "I'm here on business.”

  “What sort of business your grace?” Questioned Vuurbin, his smile replaced with a look of genuine concern.

  “What I’m about to tell you," began Charvold, his voice dropping to a whisper, "cannot be told to anyone else, not even your fellow priests of the flesh, not yet at least. We are no closer to finding a cause or solution as to the blight affecting us. As such, Duvold has made the decision to reach out to the Phlebos in seek of aid. If Mielor grants the meeting, we will be sending a delegation to Armistan to meet with a Phlebos delegation. That’s where you come in; I want you to represent the Church of the Flesh at this meeting.”

  “Your grace I don’t know what to say," said Vuurbin. "I’m flattered but hardly think I’m qualified, shouldn't you be the one to attend?”

  “I lack the desire to go to Armistan and deal with hot headed individuals. I guarantee the meeting will result in pointless yelling culminating in both parties leaving all the sorer for it. However, at this point, I must agree with Duvold. We really have no other options left to us. You are smart, outgoing and a fantastic emissary for the Church of the Flesh. I cannot think of anyone else who exemplifies our beliefs as much as you, nor anyone else who I would rather have be the face of our church." Charvold reached out and gently patted Vuurbin's knee. "Your calmness and love of others will do wonders in guiding the discussions at Armistan. So, what say you Vuurbin?”

  “Your words give me too much honor your holiness," stated Vuurbin with his smile returning. "In light of your certitude, what other choice do I have? I accept your proposal; I will go to Armistan should the meeting occur.”

  Both stood up in unison and the two hugged in friendship. Charvold turned and opened the door to exit when Vuurbin spoke to him. “Your grace, if I may ask one small favor - on your way out, can you tell the guard to send in one of my attendants. I need an assistant to fetch me a book from the library.”

  “Certainly Vuurbin," said Charvold from the doorway looking back into the room at the priest. "If I may add as well before I go, one of the commoners I spoke to was recanting the sermon you gave. The story of the wolves is an interesting one to use to calm the nerves of the people. I assume however, you didn’t tell them how the story ends.”

  “I didn’t see the point your grace," spoke Vuurbin. "What the people need now is hope. I wasn’t going to build them up just to knock them down.”

  “Though the wolves ruled the forest for a time," Charvold began, "eventually Juxon’s fall came and the Vesnians were born. Far superior to the weak humans who came before, the Vesnians conquered their lands and everything therein. The wolves and creatures of the wild fell before the might of the Vesnians and all that remains of the once proud beasts are domesticated dogs and a few lingering packs in the wild. For what force could stand before the children of the Three?”

  When Charvold finished the parable, he smiled and closed the door to Vuurbin's quarters. The priest of the flesh, even through the door, could hear the shuffling of Charvold's robes growing fainter as he walked away down the hall.

  * * *

  Vuurbin heard a knock on his door and immediately knew who it was. Each priest of the flesh was granted three attendants whose sole duty it was to help the priest in any way he needed. Due to having worked with his assistants for so long, he could differentiate each one by the way they knocked.

  “Come in Alturbin," said Vuurbin coldly.

  A female Tormos silently opened the door, entering the room and closing it behind her. The girl's true frame was masked by the billowing grey robes she was wearing. She kept her eyes averted downward the whole time upon entering, never looking at Vuurbin. Alturbin's long hair cascaded around her in an unorganized mess, obscuring her face.

  “Sit down,” commanded Vuurbin.

  The girl quickly sat down on Vuurbin’s bed, her eyes never leaving the floor of the room. The priest of the flesh stood up and towered over the small woman. “What will it be tonight Alturbin? Do you want the blade or the rod?”

  Through a voice faintly above a whisper the girl spoke. “Please your holiness, not tonight, I beg you for reprieve.”

  Vuurbin suddenly and violently gripped the throat of the girl without warning. He applied pressure and she grasped at his arm as he slowly choked her. “Your pain is not my problem," hissed Vuurbin through clenched teeth. "You were placed here for me to do with as I see fit, otherwise you wouldn’t be in the position you’re currently in. I grant you the liberty of choosing the pleasure you receive; however, should you continue attempting to defy me I will give you both. Now that I’ve made my position clear I ask again, do you want the blade or the rod?”

  Vuurbin released Alturbin and she fell to her side onto the bed gasping for air. From where she lay the sleeves of her robes had rolled down and displayed a crisscrossing maze of wounds, cuts and scars all up and down her arm. The flickering torch light caused shadows to dance over the violent formations that were visible on her neck as well. Vuurbin stared down at his artwork prominently displayed on the girl’s body and he instantly became excited, his blood furiously pumping in his body.

  As she finally caught her breath she sat back up, eyes still staring down at the floor in total submissiveness. “The rod,” she meekly said in a voice barely audible.

  Vuurbin had a grin spread across his face. “Open my dear and receive your gift.”

  Vuurbin dropped his pants and parted his robe. Alturbin learned forward and closed her eyes as tears streamed down her face. She opened her mouth and Vuurbin felt himself slip inside, losing himself in the ecstasy.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Thin Line

  Corvul rolled over panting, his massive chest heaving up and down, sweat glistening on his dull orange skin. His short cut golden hair was plastered to his scalp due to the sweat pouring off him. Aun shone in through the large open balcony to his chambers high up in Glory Keep, the main military barracks in Aun's Light. The girl next to him rolled off the bed and stood up, sweat covering her slim naked frame. Quietly as a cat she walked across the room into the lavatory and closed the door behind. Corvul tried to recall the girl's name but it eluded him, her name was irrelevant anyway.

  Corvul always attracted stares wherever he went for several reasons. One was that while most Phlebos were tall, sleek and lean, his body vaguely resembled that of the Tormos. He was short and incredibly muscular for a Phlebos. The second reason he drew stares was because he was the commander of Aun's Light. It was his job to keep the peace and protect the largest military fortification on the entire continent. This was easily enough done as the Tormos paid no attention to the Phlebos. Aun's Light had also never once in its history been attacked by undead. The position of the city directly on top of the blood flows made it too inhospitable for the dry shambling corpses. Thirdly, and lastly, Corvul was incredibly handsome. He had perfect features in every way which made him the talk of the town, especially amongst the ladies.

  Corvul loved women and they loved him. His voracious sexual appetite was no secret, and he commonly heard the men talking about the girls constantly coming and going from his room. Every girl he slept with though was a willing participant; and sure, society deemed most of the women he was sleeping with as whores, but who was he to judge? In Corvul's opinion, he was the luckiest man on the planet. He lived in luxury, presided over technically the most prosperous city in Aunia (while Aun City was much larger, all trade with Juxton was done though Aun's Light, thus all the wealth of the Red Empire entered through his city) and had sex with more women a week than most men had in countless lifetimes.

  "Poznor!" Shouted Corvul sitting up now in the bed after catching his breath from his most recent row with the girl. The door opened and a Phlebos soldier with bright red skin and a thin mustache dressed in full armor entered. This was not the first time Poznor had entered Corvul's chamber to find the c
ommander stark naked, in fact it was almost a daily routine. Poznor had long ago become accustomed to his superior's nudity.

  "Yes milord, how may I assist you?" Poznor asked his superior officer in a chipper tone of voice.

  Corvul, waving towards the lavatory door, spoke to the officer. "When she's done get whatever her name is out of here. Do I have any daily correspondence?"

  "Yes milord," began Corvul's subordinate. "It's outside, I'll bring it in to you if you'd like. Also, there is a strange occurrence that you should be made aware of sir. I would have come and informed you right away but - well you were making an awful lot of noise and I didn't want to interrupt you when you were in the middle of something."

  Corvul laughed as he stood up and walked around the bed, still totally nude as the day he crawled out of Juxon's blood. He went into his closet and began pulling out clothing. While rummaging through his belongings he started shouting to Poznor so that his subordinate could hear him. "Bring in the correspondence, but before you do, what is the unusual news that you bring?"

  "Well sir," said Poznor hesitantly at first. "We received a message from the Tormos just an hour ago."

  Corvul dipped his head from out of the closet. Official correspondence from the Tormos was extraordinarily rare. Messages were sent in only the direst of circumstances and it hadn't even been a month since he had met with Tulinda and Gunvold at Armistan about Thunvold's passing, the Behemoth scowling at Corvul the whole time. Suddenly the purpose of this new message dawned on Corvul. Across the Red Empire, including Aun's Light, were reports of individuals no longer reincarnating after passing. At first Corvul didn't think much of it, but then just two days ago he had received royal correspondence alerting him to the recall of every high-ranking official in Phlebos government. He figured the situation had to have some validity if Mielor had recalled all the important shmucks. Now almost a month after the passing of Thunvold, the Tormos had another message to deliver. If Corvul had to bet on it, he figured Thunvold was dead and gone.