Day 25: The Hierophant

Disguise / Escape

There is no road safer than along the Walpurgis Night’s Band, as long as you know which side to travel on.
Since long before the border between the kingdoms of the Order of the Chief God had been drawn, the Walpurgis Night’s Band crossed the long stretches of Order land with magic knowledge lost to time, invisible to the naked eye during daytime.

For that reason, those who walk this trail do so only during night. Richard, Carmille, Mattias and Douglas were three lone walkers. They had found each other to walk together. They pursued the wisps of light which sailed through the air in the distance, blinking in and out of existence with regular intervals. The light kept flickering out before they could get near, yet remained bright further ahead as it snaked across the dim landscape. For magic that ancient was alive, and had instincts to hide away from the eyes of the uninitiated. Those who wander along Walpurgis Night’s Band move to a destination they will never reach. Like chasing a rainbow.

“I don’t trust hexcraft like this” Mattias grumbled, his hands dug deep into his pocket, “They’re always and only ever made out of deception.”
Carmille sneered at the older man, before the sneer turned into a condescending smile, “It is not deception, Mattias, if our minds are unable to discern the entire truth.”
Mattias scowled back, “Hmmph… Keep to yourself whatever truth can't be seen with my own eyes.”
“Feel free to wander to the other side of the Band.” Offered Douglas, opening his hand towards his right, “Then your eyes can see for themselves all night long.”
“That shan’t be necessary…” Mattias grumbled, shifting to the left.
The muted chuckling, which Richard had kept up at the back of the procession until then, came to an abrupt end as he stopped by some bushes to the left. Douglas was the first to notice him not keeping up. When he turned around, he found the young vagrant running his hand through the foliage.

Douglas signalled for the rest of the group to stop, and walked back.
“So, what did you find?” Asked Douglas.
“Boy, you don’t wanna put your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Mattias snapped, “What if it’s contraband? You’d be in trouble with the law, and with whatever roaming gangs of bandits skulk around here.”
“Some kind of animal passed by here.” Richard answered, “Look.”
He lifted the branch, revealing a set of prints in the dirt underneath.
“It’s wolf prints. Right?” Asked Richard.
“A bit on the big side for a wolf, don’t you think?” Mattias pointed out.
“Well, it’s too small to be a bear.” Douglas added.
Carmille stepped forward “I know what those are. Those are werewolf prints.”

Richard let the branch fall over the tracks, looking up at the young nun, “You… Sure about it?”
She nodded, “I am. Unfortunately.”
“Well, that’s just terrific!” Snarled Mattias, folding his arms across his chest, ”See? That magic band of yours doesn’t help squat! The monsters are just walking in and out of it as they please!”

“Something’s wrong.” The nun almost squealed out, “No monster should be able to pass the Walpurgis Night’s Band. Our forebearers made sure of that. It repels demonic energy in all its forms.”
Douglas sighed, “Something is wrong, yes. But it’s been wrong for a long time now. Since the Age of the Current Demon Lord, the Walpurgis Night’s Band hasn’t been able to repel monsters.”
“I knew it!” Mattias barked out, kicking the ground, “Hexcraft is nothing but cheap lies and trickery! We’re fools, the lot of us! We allowed ourselves to rely on something as fickle as what these madmen cook up!”
Carmille giggled, earning Mattias’s angry sneer.
“What’s so funny?” Mattias asked with a grunt.
“Oh, nothing.” Carmille answered with a smile, “I merely find your ignorance amusing.”
“Ignorance!? It is just common sense!”
“Whatever is beyond the magic of the ancients,” Explained Carmille calmly, “Is certainly beyond those of mundane means.”
Mattias clenched his fist, “Why, you…”

As the older stout man walked briskly towards Carmille, Douglas moved between them to keep them apart.
He looked over his shoulder at the nun, “Carmille, please….”
She answered with an innocent smile only.
Douglas turned back to Mattias, “With all due respect, the Walpurgis Night’s Band has stood stalwart for many thousands of years, as the final refuge for people against the onslaught of monsters. Yes, things have been changing lately, and even ancient magic is affected. But even now, it protects against demonic energy traversing ambiently through the air. And evil spirits without a body, whose souls are held together by demonic energy, are also warded away.”

“Why, that’s mighty nice and all…” Richard interjected, “But if monsters prowl these here landscapes, then we really don’t oughta wander at night.”
“Fair…” Douglas admitted with a nod, “How about this. There’s a place not too far from here. We can seek shelter there.”
Mattias cocked his brow, “And you knew about that, how exactly?”
“I’ve travelled through these parts before.” Douglas answered, “I know my way around.”
“And you didn’t think to mention that before?”

“Who cares?” Richard said with a shrug, “You really wanna argue about every small thing ‘till the werewolves take us?”
Mattias sighed, shifting his gaze back at Douglas, “Where is this place?”
“Right this way. Follow me.” He gestured away and headed left of the Walpurgis Night’s Band, into the woods. A very short walk later, and they arrived at a clearing. There, a dilapidated church rested, the stones coloured black with ash. Only the skeletal remnants of charred rafters were left of the roof.
“We should be safe here.” Douglas stated.
“...That place?” Carmille stared, frozen in place but for her trembling knees, “No. Under no circumstances should we set foot in there.”
“You know this place?” Richard asked.
“That… That is the Church of Lourncotts.” She uttered as if out of breath, “Do you know about Morgan Abrupt?”
“Ah, who doesn’t?” Mattias said, “That famous killer. The one who made an incision at the spine of his victims. He murdered over four hundred innocents, right?”
Carmille nodded, “He met his end in this church. He trapped a group of young men and women there with him. They sacrificed themselves before he could kill them. Torched the church. Everyone inside burned to ****. And Morgan Abrupt was never seen again.”
“Now that’s not true,” Richard stated, “I’ve heard that they got Morgan Abrupt in the end. Hanged him by the neck by sunset.”
“Hey, hey!” Douglas butted in, “So many different rumours float around. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s still out there.”

Silence settled over the group. They exchanged looks.
It was Mattias who broke the silence at last, “Will you stop it now! This all happened eighty years ago! If he wasn’t burned, or hanged, or whatever, then he must’ve died in his bed by now! No one’s seen a trace of him for ages! But we know that monsters are out there. Seems to me there’s no question what we should worry about. Now, come on! Let’s get moving!”
Mattias headed the group by the front, and the rest followed in short procession.

The doors slammed shut behind them. The faint starlight shining through the ceiling saved them from utter pitch blackness. But all they could see were shades amongst shades.
“I still have a bad feeling about this…” Carmille whispered.
“Still had a bad feeling out there.” Richard whispered back, “Can’t say we’re in any worse a position now.”
Carmille couldn’t find a way to answer that. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that walking in there was a grave mistake.
“...We should head for the sacristy,” She said finally, “There should be something there to light the way.”
“I’ll follow you.” Richard stated, and did so.

The both of them walked through the nave. When Carmille passed the transept, inside the mirror therein, a nun passed by. When Richard passed the transept, inside the mirror therein, a charred corpse of a person passed by.
Richard had to back up and look. Staring back in his reflection was the same scraggly red-haired man with patchy beard.
The darkness was playing tricks on him. He ran to keep up with Carmille to the sacristy.

Mattias was about to follow so as not to be left alone. But he caught something in the corner of his eyes. A flickering light. It came from a chamber up in the galleries.
“Carmille!” He cried, “Richard! I found something!”
But they were already too far away. He was about to hurry after them, when he peered over his shoulder to see the light drift away, further into the galleries.
His eyes shifted between his comrades, and the dark rows above. It was a bad idea to leave them behind. Still, there was something about that light which drew him in. A kind of nostalgic warmth. Maybe taking a peek wouldn’t hurt.
He climbed the stairs, and peered over one of the pillars into the chamber.

A woman stood there, adorned in a white and pink dress. Her long hair fell down her back like a black mantle.
Mattias could scarcely believe his eyes. He let out a shuddering gasp, and with a stutter in his increasingly shrill voice, he spoke, “Malin…?”
He shambled closer, barely even able to stay on his feet.
“Malin… Is th-that really you?” Mattias spoke in his native tongue.
She turned around, greeting him with a bright smile. The same bright smile he remembered from so man years ago.
“Mattias…” She hissed.
“...It is you. Oh, Malin… Malin. Forgive me! It’s all my fault!” He approached, his arms open, “You were sick… I was not beside you… They… They said you never stopped waiting for me. Not until the very end…”
“Mattias… Mattias…”
“I… I was busy. Travelling. Making money. I thought… I thought if I had more money, I could find the right people. Find a cure. And then… Then it was already too late. Forgive me. But now… now you’re here again.”
He embraced her in her arms, sulking into her shoulder.
“Mattias…”

A contortion of sharp pain shot through his body. It quickly turned into a hot numbness. Blood splattered, pooling in a bright red puddle on the floor. His vision turned hazy, but he saw who was before him. It was not his wife.
He was staring into the savage eyes of a charred corpse walking.
The disguise of Morgan Abrupt shattered before Mattias, but it was too late. He bled out. Collapsed on the floor. The lifeless husk that once was Mattias wore a jacket, and a shirt. Both were dyed in blood. The blackened corpse tore both of them off him, then flipped him to his stomach.
The knife of the blackened corpse, which had been melded with the fleshy stump that was once his hand, cut into Mattias’s skin.
Making an incision over his spine.