Old Testament of the Light: A Fanatic View
The light sold us mercy but at a price. Burn the sinners. She will bless us for worship and loyalty—the champion of light is proof of that. Just as she will cast us down for allowing filth to fester and rot. If we cannot cut the rot free, as the champion cleansed the rot, then we must burn it, for the light is pure and giving to those it loves, and all else will be ash. —Burned pages lost to time from the remains of a book of light
He rushed down the stairs to the bottom of the cathedral, desperate to share what he saw, a sign to guide his flock. Among those kneeling in prayer, he saw some look up at his arrival and dismayed at his disheveled state, wondering what transpired.
"Father, are you well?" one concerned voice asked.
SMACK
"FOOL!" the bishop shouted as the man fell to the blow. The bishop tried to catch his breath to continue his tirade. "The goddess gave me a sign..." Breathing deep, steadying himself, he wiped the sweat to remain clean and speak clearly. "She showed me a fire in the sky—a holy flame. I know her will."
The gaze from them watching, wondering his truth, was divine. They all bowed, waiting with reverence. He had his flock back, the doubt fading with the darkness he felt from lack of support.
"I will take a few faithful to help me purge the rot, as was her divine mandate."
A few of the disciples glance at each other with looks of concern that was turning to doubt. Turning my calm into fire, yet I let it simmer; I was not mad with rage, it was disappointment that they cowered... that his word was not enough...
"Do you doubt the goddess's will? Of my skill to interpret her will?" He reflected on why he need to convince them maybe... aha, yes... they need a symbol. "Why do you think she keeps the champion from our grasp? She wants us to PROVE our worth."
I saw in their eyes the dawning of the truth. Even I felt it—it made sense. The champion earned a place by her side by fighting, not just devotion, by killing...
"The champion spilled blood in her name and was rewarded with divinity, away from the filth and slums. He is beyond us now... BUT." I watched, making sure they were listening. A few more even gathered due to the noise.
"We can achieve the same if we choose, or we can pray and do nothing." Looking around with coldness, studying their faces. "Which action do you think was rewarded by the goddess, and remember who did she give a sign from heaven's sky itself when we had doubt..."
"Tell me, lost lambs, to whom among you has the goddess spoken? When I can claim to have heard her voice and know her will..." Waiting, letting them feel the weight, I finished: "For the day I stand by the champion and goddess in heaven, I will remember those who stood proudly against me in doubt, saying they knew better than I the voice of the goddess herself."
Fear bloomed in all eyes. He saw a few flee in fear, unsure what to do, but the ones he wanted? The ones he needed? They waited and wanted to know his will...
It was only a few, but enough.
"To those faithful, worry not. The goddess let me keep some of her crystals. I even gave one to the knight a little while back—we had a bit of a... disagreement." He waved his hand as if to show lack of concern. "But it's fine. They will be back once we show the goddess's will. They all will be back and bowing..."
Technically it was a lie; he took them with the knights' help when the champion would foolishly leave them in the rot lands, trying to purify the earth instead of keeping the goddess's gifts. The champion never returned to the same place twice, assuming they'd fade into the land or heal it forever. The knights saw this as waste and brought them to him as an act of faith, though when left in the rot, the power did fade in time. But mana essence and life force could restore them, and there were always desperate souls in the slums to offer such power in hopes of salvation...
"Do you think the goddess killed the thieves like the people said? There are no reports of bodies." One of the zealots spoke up, hopeful for understanding.
Truthfully, I wasn't sure. It was worrying—new to me too. It was why I prayed on the roof for answers. Yet I did get one...
"Of course, child." I said full of warmth, spreading my arms as if welcoming all to be loved.
"Why do you think I speak with absolute certainty and no doubt? Why do you think I'm willing to strike those that doubt? It is her love and mercy I share, but she does not like to be questioned. It is a truth we all know, so why doubt now?"
"I'm sorry, Father. I let weakness guide me..."
I gently brushed his head as the tears fell from his eyes.
"Doubting is fine; it's questioning and inaction she despises. It's why faith and servitude are rewarded and questions face judgment."
"Forgive us, Father. Please guide us; we will follow." Smiling, he knew now was the time to act.
He led them to his secret storage in his room; he did not like letting others near his secrets for fear of them taking from him, but he needed the devoted to have trust no matter how little he wished to give, and showing them his hidden prize was the best link he could share to bind them with loyal fervor.
Drawing the four dull crystals, making him frown, they lost their power. Those that followed, he saw reverence from the few that followed him who did not know they were supposed to be shining with an endless light. He quickly thought of a way to cover for the lack of light to show his power, he knew the goddess essence was pure and lasted long after the champion left those prizes in the rot. Yet since they faded in time he experimented with the desperate in the slum to refill the missing light's power with their mana essences, the fools seeking salvation as if they were worthy; proof they were not was their essence he took from them faded too easily from the crystals, he assumed he would bring out holy light to prove his power, not this....
"They're dull now from lack of faith," he starts explaining carefully, making sure he spun it just right, "yet just as the goddess gave her life with divinity, so can we!" He wasn't sure if that were true; he honestly had no clue how the Goddess's power works but knew she gave and took mana essence on whims, so he assumed it could be true with one's life force too... he saw the slum dwellers seem to age a bit when he drew to charge the crystal but cared little if true...
"Um, Father? How do we give mana essence or...life?" Fear was replacing reverence from not only him but also others....
"Don't doubt her gift." He hated what he was about to do, but they needed a show of faith, and as long as he used care, it would only drain his mana, not his life. He took one of the crystals and carefully willed mana into the gem and panicked when it refused to glow. How far was he willing to risk in gaining their faith.... he risked pouring more as it flooded into the crystal doing nothing.... It nearly drained him fully when it finally grew bright, to the awe of those with him the drain made him inadvertently gasp with relief, but he covered as best he could as if in awe himself.
The drain hit him like a physical blow - he'd never felt mana leave him so violently before. When the slum dwellers had powered crystals for him in exchange for food and mercy, he'd felt nothing, assumed it was effortless. Now he understood something about the goddess's power and why she refused to share it he hadn't grasped before. Yet using his own essence, which he'd valued, had nearly been consumed by one crystal's lighting as if worthless. But surely this proved his devotion? Surely this sacrifice would catch her attention where others had failed? And how much power did she have, she could freely give these to waste in rot lands for a worthless champion who did not value power?
"Aha, the divinity flows through me, healing me even now." He did feel the warmth of the light but nothing else... Yet the awe he saw in their eyes made it worth it; they once more truly believed, and a few even openly wept.
Catching his breath as discreetly as he could to remain strong in their eyes, he spoke, "The light will fade BUT..." He paused to build effect. "It will grow with your faith; you must keep feeding the light. When you doubt, the goddess will doubt your devotion. THAT, is why they fade, to make you prove your devotion and worth."
He had just enough crystal hidden for now, to allow one for each of the four faithful that followed. He wished he had many more followers and crystals, but he was not hunting monsters like the champion that feared and burned to the light but slum rats, and it already drained him doing this much with one crystal; he did not want to risk more taking his life.... No. Let them do that.
He studied their faces, already planning how to use their newfound fervor. The previous bishop had been weak and a fool, killed by mere thieves he bartered with, it's why they fled the middle district. But he? He was cunning and would show the goddess what true devotion looked like. Why waste power on a champion who threw it to the earth, he will prove why he is better and in return, she would finally see him as worthy of real power. The champion had caught her eye through selfless heroism - fine. He would catch her eye more so with ruthless faith.
It was a mostly peaceful walk, having the devoted follow boosted his confidence. He was safe and each held a light, making it seem as if his shadow was an aura of light and they were his angels following him... yes, like a god bringing salvation from the rot.
He saw it in the fear in their eyes as they fled. The unworthy who before had openly mocked and scorned his passing. Now? They fled.
He finally made it to the accursed home they bought through blood money or from between their legs—either way, coins from filth unworthy of this place to stay.
"COME OUT, WHORES! JUDGMENT IS HERE!" He was willing to send his men in to drag them out if needed. An example needed to be made; killing one or two would show them their place. Yet none showed, making him sweat a bit. He wasn't sure who was inside or if they had weapons—they were church men, not knights.
Damn it, I did not think this through. I just assumed it would all be well. Maybe I can yell and make a scene and that will be enough. I can find a way to spin it better later...
When a voice from a distant watching crowd surprised him. Slum rats could speak in his presence, though they seemed to stand far back. The light made them wince and recoil as if in pain... odd.
Maybe they were more beast than he knew. As he focused on the words, the man kept babbling: "Leave them be. I told you it's just young women and kids. We let them have the home while we work to secure more places. There's no one worthy of your hate here."
He was a scrawny man, yet his eyes held a fire that caused him to pause. They should be dead eyes with nothing to gain, not a defiant nature of... hope?
Impossible.
"We brought lamps, Father, just in case." He jerked toward his flock.
"What?" They brought lamps? When... and that stupid... no... I did say we will burn and cleanse rot. It makes sense. A smile formed with genuine joy. "That is why I trusted you—it was a test!” his followers proud they did good.
He could hear muffled voices from within—fear was all the rats in the walls was babbling, unsure what to do, but still none emerged.
Some of the crowd, hearing the cry within, tried to lunge forward, causing the bishop to panic and nearly bolt. To his shock and awe, one of the faithful held up the light in defiance and the crowd flinched and shrieked, fleeing back. The scrawny man from before still tried to push forward despite the light burning him, shouting warnings to those inside, but the pain forced him back. It was burning them! This knowledge redoubled his zealots' faith, seeing the divine effects with their own eyes.
Madness … the light burning humans…. Yet, it was true. This was the goddess's will. She really did want them to burn. He was right. Not just his desire but truly right.
Laughter erupted from him, such joy as the faithful surrounded him, holding the light and forcing all back.
"DO IT! BURN THE HOME OF LIES AND WHORES! LET THEM SEE WHAT THEY'RE WORTH!"
As the faithful who brought the lamps threw them through the windows, shattering glass and spreading flames, the fire grew quickly from the old wood. The screams were divine proof he was right as he relished the joy.
As the fire grew beyond what could be contained, a sound made him piss himself and caused all there to lose themselves to the unknown sound—a roar so profound, full of rage and madness. The sound froze everyone in terror; even his faithful hesitated, lost to the sound of that emotion that was too strong to bear. Yet the zealots, as before, poured more life into the crystals to repel the fear they felt. He could not help but flee, even as the zealots with him saw it as the ultimate test of faith. The crystals pulsed brighter as his followers poured their life into them, their faces aging years in moments—they were young teens before that had followed him, now they looked like old men, and the light grew brighter still with their sacrifice.
He did not stay to see who won. He delivered his message; now he would wait for them to beg for his mercy. The casualties of his men were needed—the goddess required sacrifices to show faith, so he shall sacrifice his followers to show his faith.33Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlEdCuXPWvS
and then Add to home screen.