by Matt Dawson
Gessich looked down at the food being offered to him, and leaned back, away from it. Leiel blinked, tilting her head at the boy’s reaction. She broke off a small sliver from the biscuit and tossed it in her mouth, chewing with an enthusiastic smile. Gessich looked down at the food, then back up to her, his recoil settling. His hand slowly reached out to the food, his eyes darting between the biscuit and Leiel. In one fell swoop, the biscuit disappeared from Leiel’s hand, and then Gessich’s. His cheeks puffed up, bouncing around as he struggled to contain the food within his mouth.
The courier returned, beckoning Leiel. She bid Gessich goodbye and headed towards the staircase. The boy stopped chomping, his cheeks still puffed up. They sagged a little as he watched her walk up the stairs.
Leiel and the courier climbed for several flights, finally reaching the top. Above, a stained glass dome bathed the whole staircase in a kaleidoscope of colors. This floor was different than the rest. The others were open, much like the entryway, with several doors apparent on each floor. This had but one entry, a solid metal frame that reached from ceiling to floor, wall to wall. In the center, a single massive mahogany door, at least thrice as tall as Leiel, and nearly twice as wide, and seemed to be the only way in or out.
A lone clergyman stood vigil before the door. He wore long gray and gold robes from neck to feet. Red embroidering traced from around his collar, down to his sleeves and to the bottom of the robe near his feet. Leiel found it odd that he was devoid of any sort of religious emblem of any kind, an elaborately dressed clean slate. His head was undressed, and had no hair to speak of, not even eyebrows.
The edges of his mouth curved upwards. His eyes were relaxed. The clergyman gave a shallow bow to Leiel, folding his hands over each other and resting them against his stomach.
“The council is grateful to receive you on such short notice. Please, follow me,” he said, gesturing towards the door with an open palm facing upwards, and producing a silver key. In one fluid motion, he unlocked the door and opened it with a gentle nudge.
Chapter 3
Leiel was ushered into the door, open barely enough for her to pass. Slipping in behind her, the clergyman quickly latched the door shut and locked it. He stood vigil again, resting hand over hand against his stomach. Leiel looked at the inert clergyman. He gave the same weak smile, pointing, with an entire open hand, down the white hall to a slotted gate, beyond which was devoid of any light.
As Leiel moved towards the gate, she noticed the hallway was incredibly sterile. So much so, that the color made her outfit look slate gray against it. The color made it hard to even discern the dimensions of the hallway, which seemed to converge upon the gate.
On approach, the gate opened automatically. She looked back, and the clergyman was gone. She crossed the threshold into the next room, and the hall dimmed from view. The overwhelming sense of impending danger she felt disappeared. A lone candelabra was lit, illuminating a single crescent-shaped wooden table in the center of the room. Four tall backed mahogany seats with brass embossments were positioned across from where Leiel stood, empty. The sound of a metal rod hitting a large metal plate rang out.
“The Council of Land, Sea, and Sky is now in session.” A monotone voice called out from the rear of the room.
Leiel looked around. For a room of such importance, it was incredibly spartan. No holy relics, no art, not even any sort of adornment. Just a dimly lit stone brick room with a table. She’d seen hamlet shrines more adorned than this place. The resounding silence put her on edge.
Three figures emerged from a false wall at the back of the room. They walked in a line from the wall to the table, each standing in front of an individual chair, waiting. Together, they pulled out their respective chairs and sat in silence.
“Come into the light, sister.” The Elder of the Sea said.
The top of his robe was brown, with cobalt embroidery, similar in style to the gateway clergyman. Each of the council’s garb only varied by the embroidery of their robes.
In the dark, Leiel’s eyes glowed a dim green. Her irises had distinct angles, six to be specific, each equidistant from each other. The first pointing straight up towards the ceiling, and each pointed outward from her pupil in a hexagonal shape.
She sauntered over towards the table, standing within the crescent, surrounded by the council on all sides. As she did, the reflection of the candles on her metal pauldrons hid the luminance of her eyes. She stood in silence, her arms at her side, looking at each council member in turn as she swept her gaze back and forth.
“Tell me, what is an Esperitus?” The Elder of the Sky asked, breaking the silence.
Leiel turned to him, blinking several times, slow and deliberate. The question caught her off guard. “They are a disease.” Leiel furrowed her brow,. “They feed on innocent people, devouring them from the inside out.” the elders looked at each other in shock. Leiel didn’t expect such a reaction from them. “I do not know where they come from. They certainly were not around before…” Leiel said, stopping to think.
The long hibernation she fell into was not a common topic of discussion for her. And by the moment, she grew less comfortable with this council, feeling it was not something to be brought up here.
“…what I mean to say is, the past few years has seen a dramatic increase in their occurrence.” She corrected herself. “They will possess a human, and feed on their soul, eventually consuming the person’s body in order to gain access to our world. In order to become corporeal.”
“You’re saying they consume human body and soul in order to become real?” The Elder of the Sea asked.
“Yes, that is exactly what I am saying.” Leiel responded.
“Why would they do such a thing?” The Elder of the Land asked.
Leiel paused to think for a moment. In her travels, she had encountered many Esperitus, most of which were feral to the core. They were wild, and chose to rely on instincts. Despite many having the ability to talk, they never had the ability to reason. She hadn’t much opportunity to stop and interview them.
“To what end, I do not know.”
“Surely there’s some way to communicate with them? Don’t they inherit the gift of speech from the human with whom they cohabit?” The Elder of the Land asked.
Leiel had lost many friends to this menace. That was a question she wasn’t ready to be asked. She became a priestess to ease the suffering of humankind. She decided to bear the sign of Meridia, the goddess of the hidden sun, to be a bastion of hope for those with nowhere else to turn.
“The thought had crossed my mind, but making attempts was difficult while avoiding being mauled to death.”
“You are a lady of the cloth, I’m disappointed that you are so cavalier with the lives of others,” said the Elder of the Sky.
“These are nature’s creatures like anything else. We must afford them the same dignity that all other living things have,” said the Elder of the Sea.
“You bear the emblem of Meridia, but it’s apparent you worship a dead goddess so that there won’t be repercussions for your actions,” said The Elder of the Sky.
Leiel stared straight ahead, placing a hand over Meridia’s insignia embossed on her armor, just below her neck. The insignia looked like half of a fallen tree, a single thick line at an angle, and a single large branch intersecting it perpendicular, and several smaller lines branching from that one.
With the council still grilling her on the sanctity of life, she closed her eyes and shook her head.
“It is apparent to me that human life holds less value to you. These things cannot be reasoned with. They are not out to be bargained with. They do not have a desire to compromise. They do not want peace.” Leiel said, anger welling up within her. “They will not stop until they get what they want, and they do not care who they have to destroy to fulfill their desires.”
The council fell silent. They raised their chins and straightened their backs, looking between one another. Leiel finished, sta
ring at them and trying to fight back a scowl.
“It’s apparent to us, Lady Leiel, that you bear prejudice against things you don’t quite understand. It’s very disappointing that you would be so shameful as to bear the insignia of hope, when what you bring is quite the opposite.” The Elder of the Sea said.
A hundred variations of the same sentiment raced through Leiel’s head. None of them appropriate for the situation. She shook them off. It seemed like she and the council wouldn’t see eye to eye on this matter. Dejected, realizing this was a massive waste of time, she decided to cut her losses. “Will that be all?”
“Priestess, you don’t understand.” The Elder of the Land said.
“This wasn’t a discussion on the finer points of the Esperitus.” The Elder of the Sea said.
“You will be ceasing your actions against them, effective immediately.” The Elder of Sky said.
“I will be doing no such th…” Leiel started to say, but her train of thought was cut off.
“You will stop. You will stop. You will stop.” A voice that sounded much like her own started repeating in her head.
The council folded their hands, leaning forward to rest on the table as she stood, frozen in place. She could no longer move. Her limbs refused to respond to her. Leiel found herself imprisoned in her own body. Even moving her eyes took an immense amount of will.
The Elder of the Land stood and sauntered over to her, his hands behind his back as he walked. He approached her, moving one of the long locks of hair that came down around her cheeks behind her ear. “Whatever is driving you is incredible. By now, you should have succumbed, but still you resist our will.” He turned back at the sound of footsteps.
“I’ll take it from here.” A voice called out, a man emerging from the council’s chambers. Leiel recognized him, the gatekeeper from before.
The scenery around her began to drip, as if it were a liquid leaking from the ceiling. Beneath the liquid of the fake scenery was a sterile environment of pure white. The echoing in the room ceased. The council faded from sight. She and the gatekeeper were alone in the sterility.
“You’ll have to forgive my associates, they can get a bit…impassioned.” keeping his hands folded in front of him, unmoving.
“You have to admit, this whole religion thing is somewhat grotesque, considering…” he took a deep breath, looking up in thought. “…considering a woman of your stature.”
“What have you done?” Leiel said, struggling to move.
Chapter 4
The gatekeeper took a measured step forward.
“You know, you’ve put up an impressive fight. Usually these situations are a bit more primal. The thing in your position will blather on about its desires. We show it that we can fulfill them. Then it goes on to help us.” The Gatekeeper paused for a moment, tapping his face. “But, perhaps I’ll be more direct here. What motivates you? Tell me your desires so that I may fulfill them.”
Leiel did everything she could to struggle against the force locking her in place. Even squirming in the most minute way was an immense strain. She felt herself getting hot, the sweltering only adding to the wave of fatigue setting in.
The gatekeeper took another step closer. He was just outside arm’s reach. He felt her very existence being drawn towards him, like shards of iron drawn to a magnet. In desperation, Leiel struggled to remain conscious in his presence.
Leiel heard the subtle yapping of what sounded like a dog. Or, maybe it was a fox? The sound rang out as something between a small toy dog and a fox kit. The gatekeeper stopped, whipping his head around to look at it. “You’re not supposed to be here!” His shouting was distorted, as if it were intermittently echoing.
From the droplets of liquid that was still dripping from where the ceiling once was, a small fox-like creature clawed its way up from under the floor, emerging from the puddle that formed. The gatekeeper ignored Leiel at this point, stomping toward the animal. Leiel kept hammering against her immobile limbs. The invisible grip on her body began to loosen. The fox wormed around the gatekeeper, who tried to grab it with both hands.
The fox leaped, rolled, and tumbled, coming to a stop at Leiel’s feet. She looked down at it, recognizing in an instant as an Esperitus. It sat and howled. The howl turned to a screech. The noises got farther and farther before fading away.
Leiel’s eyes shot open. The fox’s cry returned. The torches hung on the walls danced violently. Her eyes focused. She was sitting down against a wall. A small pedestal with an object resting on it was in front of her. On the wall above and behind it, a symbol in the shape of an eye with a triangle for a pupil and three lines for lashes. The eye of enlightenment. It was a Vanguard of the Old World symbol. An organization bent on resurrecting the machinated horrors left behind by a long-dead civilization.
Leiel panicked, trying to get up but her legs wouldn’t obey. She looked down and upon the pedestal and froze. The Manus Dei. An artifact of the old world. No, the artifact of the old world. Effectively a skeleton key for any and all ancient machina. No matter how insane, crazed, or outright berserk the machine was, the Manus Dei would instantly would quell it and the machine would obey.
She reached her arm out, trying to pick herself up using the wall. Her legs lagged behind her desire to move. With a delicate grip, she held onto the insets of the stone brick, coordinating her hands and feet to get her standing again. She turned around to see Gessich at the far end of the room, the fox huddled in front of his legs, with back arched up as high as it would go.
“Sort out the girl, and get rid of that damn kid!” The gatekeeper’s voice echoed out from down the hall.
Long after she finished thinking about walking to Gessich, she arrived. She loomed over the boy and his Esperitus. The door behind her swung open and slammed against the wall. Two brass soldiers piled in, weapons drawn. Behind them, her sword was leaned against the wall in the hallway. Leiel pivoted, reaching her hand out behind her.
From the gemstone of Leiel’s sword came a faint light. The giant sword fell forward onto the floor. The soldiers turned towards the sound and saw the massive blade laid motionless on the floor. Leiel tried her hardest to draw the blade in closer to her. It didn’t budge. She felt a heat within her again, sapping her strength. The soldiers turned back and charged at Leiel, weapons ready to strike.
Leiel grew frustrated. Her legs wouldn’t move. Her blade would not obey. The heat within her body pulled her down. She lowered her hands and focused on having her legs turn her around. As she slowly lumbered around, she removed the glove on her left hand.
She deflected the forward thrust from the soldier with an open palm, closing her hand and striking his face with her fist like a hammer. The attack was frail, there nowhere near enough force to even push the soldier away. But, the incredible heat from her arm sheared the skin from his face off. He panicked, fleeing from the room.
The second thrust she dodged, the soldier’s body landing on her shoulder. The smell of burning flesh and cloth permeated the room. His armor began to drip liquid brass onto her arm, which rolled down onto the floor. The cloth draped off his shoulder caught fire. She shoved him hard, sending him stumbling backwards into the hallway before collapsing against the wall, almost entirely engulfed in flames.
Leiel was taking bellowing breaths, having a hard time keeping her head upright. The temperature of the room began to rise. Gessich and the fox had pinned themselves against the stained glass window, the boy drenched in sweat, the fox panting heavily. She whipped her hand above her sagging head, her fingertips pointed at the sword.
“Come to me.” She said between deep breaths.
The sword was still inert.
“Obey me!” Rage filled her words as she thrust her hand forward as far as it could possibly go.
The sword lurched along the ground towards Leiel. Now in the doorway, soldiers surrounded the one on fire, trying in desperation to put him out by rolling him to his back and pounding on his arm with any cloth
they had on hand, some dropping their armor before pulling off their shirts.
A few soldiers broke off, ready to engage, but hesitated at the incredible heat radiating from the doorway, and the sight of Leiel. The outer edges of her face, and the area around her eyes had glowing crimson. Her irises were now blinding green. She continued to gasp and bellow, her arm fully extended.
She tensed her arm again, and the sword launched into motion, tumbling long end over end. The impact upon her hand sent her stumbling backwards. She took one final deep breath and let it out, turning to the two. “Move.” she ordered. Leiel struggled to keep her face pointing upwards, her shoulders now over her head.
