Seminarian Valeryctus and her fellow students are eager to learn the ways of God under High Priest Jochen’s teachings. The tension within the church is minuscule compared to whispering words of evil and one unholy event, causing Valeryctus to question everything about her faith.
Part One
God’s trials never end. To be a loyal follower, one must devote themselves entirely to the church. From birth, through childhood, and into adulthood, sins are ever present. Learning to avoid temptation is a task every priest must endure. They must walk through the fire to prove themselves to their Heavenly Father. The Devil may tempt those who stand too close to the shadows, straying from the Lord’s light, ready to sink his claws into the unfaithful.
Thus, each of the four seminarians kneels in the chapel, rehearsing prayers for God’s protection. Their eyes are sealed shut, hands held together, facing the large stone cross at the end of the church’s sanctuary. Their teacher stands in front of the cross, joining them in prayer behind the oak podium. His long red and black robe drapes onto the marble flooring.
“Oh Lord, protect us from evil.
Embrace us with heavenly grace.
And deliver us from the evil one.”
The four seminarians and the high priest speak in synchronization. Their monotone voices reverb off the marble walls, with the only other sound coming from the crackling of torch fire. Any sniffle or sigh would be heard by all and deemed punishable.
The prayers repeat, twelve lines before the end, starting from the original verse. The four seminarians will not stop until the high priest commands it so, as with every day. His dry, wrinkly, hands grasp the podium. Unlike the four trainees, his eyes remain open, watching his loyal subjects.
Specifically, his gaze falls on the girl named Valeryctus. The only way she is aware of his glare is because she keeps her eyelids ever so slightly open, watching her instructor. She feels the power of High Priest Jochen’s looming glare all throughout her body.
He’s not looking at her performance. His gaze latches onto her creamy skin, rosy lips, and her lavender irises. It’s the only skin exposed in her holy black and white gown with her silky black hair resting on the cloth shoulder pads. The glare was acceptable moments ago, but now she is concerned for he doesn’t shift to her three colleagues. She mustn’t be praying well enough.
Oh, Lord, protect us from evil. Valeryctus thinks with more focus, presuming that in return it will make her pray more effectively. Her forehead scrunches, trying to focus her mind, heart, and body on the task as she connects with the Heavenly Father.
Child . . .
The voice is a faint whisper yet originates far closer than the exterior vocals provided by the five chants. It can only be a lingering strange thought in the depths of her psyche. Valeryctus focuses with more might than she ever has in prayer when suddenly an “amen” comes from High Priest Jochen.
Child . . . You follow so loyally. Why?
The voice is crisper and comes from the back of her skull. God is speaking to her directly. Could it be true? She is unsure as the words don’t seem to be what she’d presume the Good Father would say. God wouldn’t question her loyalty. She brushes off the strange words.
“Rise, you have all done well today.” High Priest Jochen says, raising his hands.
Valeryctus and her three comrades stand from the marble floor, eyes open. They await further command under the soft dim light projecting from the torches mounted on each of the six white columns in the chapel.
“Each of you complete your lesson with a thank you prayer to the Lord, for he has blessed you with another day of life. Then you may dismiss yourselves for the evening and retreat to your private studies. I would like a summary from each of your findings in the morning.”
“Yes, High Priest Jochen.” The students say simultaneously.
Valeryctus, the last of the four seminarians, leans closer to her colleague beside her. Another girl with brunette hair who is no older than she. Valeryctus whispers. “Kaylor, what are your study focuses tonight?”
Kaylor tucks her jaw-length hair behind her ear, saying, “most likely the same verses we learned this morning. I don’t think I quite grasp them correctly.”
“That is fair.”
“And what of yourself?”
Left-hand path.
Valeryctus’s limbs tense from the words. “I well . . . I think I will-“
The other two seminarians begin whispering a prayer, distracting Valeryctus from finishing her thought.
“We best make our thanks to God,” Kaylor says, cupping her hands.
“Of course.”
The seminarians close their eyes as High Priest Jochen says, “Valeryctus, may I have a word with you?”
Valeryctus glances at the other three seminarians. The two boys and girl look at her briefly and return to their final prayer, mumbling away. Valeryctus blushes, unsure if she should be pleased or embarrassed to be called out directly.
“Of course, Father,” she says.
The girl lifts her long gown and hurries to keep pace with High Priest Jochen, marching from the podium and through the arched doorway leading to the back of the church.
“High Priest Jochen, what do you wish to speak to me about?” Valeryctus asks.
He doesn’t answer until they reach the far end of the hall and into his private quarters. He closes the wooden door behind her and smiles. The wrinkles on his face curve up to the curly grey hair on his balding scalp.
Valeryctus hasn’t been in the High Priest’s quarters too often. Only when she was first appointed to the church, and since then, only if she hadn’t correctly followed God’s rules. Now, here she is again, looking at the familiar oak bookshelves with tomes and the cross mounted on the wall behind the desk, just below the semicircle stained glass window.
“Dear Valeryctus, I am afraid you are not keeping up with your studies as well as your colleagues.”
Valeryctus looks down, feeling her back turn ice cold. “I’m so sorry, Father. I will do better.”
High Priest Jochen extends his hand, lifting her face. He caresses her cheek with his thumb. “I want you to study here, in my quarters.”
“Here? I have all of my notes and books in the basement and-“
“Go gather them,” High Priest Jochen interrupts, freeing her from his hand.
“Of course,” Valeryctus bows.
“Do so immediately.”
“What of the finishing prayer, to thank the Lord?”
“We will do so together.”
Valeryctus notes the L-shaped room, with the dark corner to the right of the door, which contains the priest’s bed. The dark corner is hard to see, but not nearly enough room for her to bring up her own mattress. “Will we be studying throughout the night?”
“Of course,” High Priest Jochen says. “No need to bring your personal belongings. We’ll make do.”
Child . . . You follow so loyally. Why? Embrace intuition.
A blazing light blooms from outside the church, highlighting the stained glass. One would presume it was morning due to the spontaneous light casting orange and yellow hues. It beams up from the ground, reaching for the sky at a rapid speed as a thundering boom comes from outside. Small pebbles of dirt and rock fall from the ceiling and onto the marble floor.
“High Priest Jochen, what is happening?” Valeryctus asks.
“Come now, back to the sanctuary,” High Priest Jochen says. He urges her to move, snagging her upper arm, forcing her to move in front of him.
I bring the gift . . .
Another loud rumbling comes from outside of the church. A deep snap whips through the air right outside as the two reach the end of the hall. One of the stained-glass windows in the chapel cracks as dust and wind blow by the entire building. The structure rumbles, causing one of the two spears mounted at the entranceway to fall, rattling on the marble ground several times before resting still.
There is always a choice.
High Priest Jochen reaches the podium while staring at the damaged glass as the blooming light fades outside, leaving the five under the warm torchlight. Valeryctus retreats to her three comrades, moving closer to Kaylor. The two hold each other’s arms tightly, waiting anxiously to hear their teacher’s commands.
“Has he sent a sign to us?” asks a boy, Tyrmus.
High Priest Jochen raises his hands and says, “do not alarm yourself. It is a sign from God.”
“From God?” Valeryctus asks.
“What is the glow?” Kaylor asks, pointing to the subtle orange hue from outside through the stained-glass behind the stone cross.
“Trust in God’s ways, my children,” High Priest Jochen says. He squints, looking up to the ceiling. “Trust in God’s ways.”
“What should we do?” Kaylor asks.
Valeryctus lets go of Kaylor and look at the cracked window. The stained glass splits vertically along the middle perfectly over the Son dying on a cross with his crown of thorns. She walks down the aisle, slowly approaching the broken glass.
“Valeryctus, please stay still. Let God guide us.”
Valeryctus stops in her tracks. “Of course, High Priest Jochen.”
“Return to your quarters. The Shield and I will witness the gift from God.”
Such a loyal disciple. Do you have a choice?
Valeryctus feels a throb pulsate through her forehead. This voice won’t leave her be. She says, “what makes you so sure it is a gift from God?”
“Valeryctus. Such an immature question to ask. Only the holy comes from above. Anything below is deemed of sin.”
“Including us,” Kaylor says.
Valeryctus’s gut twist. She saw the light beam from below. How can they be so sure it was from above? There’s no reason to challenge High Priest Jochen’s words. He knows far more than her. She wishes only to exceed in the church, and her foolish question makes her clearly inept in the ways of God and what she has learned. No, that cannot be the case. She clearly saw the light beam from below with her own eyes. She is certain.
Valeryctus says, “And we’re sure it came from above when the light projected from the ground? May we inspect this gift or ill fortune?”
High Priest Jochen’s lips press tightly together. She’s pushed him too far. His wrath and her punishment are set aside as the chapel doors burst open, sending a cool breeze against the flickering torches. Three warriors in silver armour finished with gold-coated edges, red-feathered helmets, and sheathed swords march down the red carpet. Their silky gold and red tabards of the holy cross sway side to side on their chests down to their knees with their prideful stride.
This is the Shield. They kneel before High Priest Jochen, gripping their swords in synch. The woman in the middle speaks in a naturally gruff tone. “High Priest Jochen. What are your orders?”
High Priest Jochen keeps his gaze on Valeryctus. He says, “we will inspect the sky sign. Lead us, Evelune.”
“Of course,” Evelune says. The three Shields rise from the ground and lead the five priests out of the church. Valeryctus and Kaylor lock arms together with two of their colleagues in the back and Tyrmus walking with High Priest Jochen in front, following the Shield. All of them feel the anticipation of what the gift from the sky could possibly bring. Only Valeryctus knows it couldn’t possibly come from above. The light beamed from below, then the sound erupted.
Only blind monotony can be found above . . .
The voice won’t go away. Valeryctus fiddles with her nails in nervousness as the group exits the church. She can’t help but wonder if this isn’t God nor the Devil, but something else entirely. She has no reason to think such thought, but she’s felt the Devil’s temptation before through sin. This is not sin, nor is it God’s common words found in prayer.
Her foolish thoughts are pushed aside as Evelune, and the two Shield lead the priests down the stairs of the church, passing the garden under the moon, approaching the glowing orange hue behind the building.
“Be cautious,” Evelune says. “We haven’t inspected it thoroughly yet, awaiting your command High Priest Jochen.”
The group turns the corner and stops to see no crater as one would expect from a sky gift. Instead, the entire ground is scorched charcoal grey, getting progressively darker towards the center. The patch is jagged with dirt where the grass once was. Small spits of flames dance wildly in a circular arch, forming symbols of swirls, rectangles, circles, and other simplistic shapes on the ground. Each group of flames is evenly spaced. These flames are neatly grouped together to form symbols none of the priests have seen before. The patch of dead earth radiates hot air. An inner circle of greater flames blocks the view of the core. This is entirely unnatural.
“Pentagram! The Devil!” Tyrmus exclaims, stumbling back, almost hitting Kaylor and Valeryctus in the noses with his elbows.
High Priest Jochen raises his hand. “Remain calm, my children. This is no pentagram, but something else.”
Valeryctus is now certain this is no gift from God. This clearly came from below, a place of evil. The Devil is a genuine possibility now. Simply being near the scorched ground, she can sense the presence of something watching her, deep within her soul. Her hands tremble, losing herself in the dance of the flames.
“This place is unholy,” Kaylor says. “But how?”
“God deems us unfaithful,” one of the seminarists says behind Valeryctus.
“Don’t be so quick to judge, Izahl.” High Priest Jochen says, stepping around the circumference of the scorched earth.
What are you, child?
The pressuring aura of the unholy ground morphs into a pulling sensation. Valeryctus surrenders immediately, gravitating towards the inner circling flames. Her first step is slow and unnoticed by her comrades. Several steps more, she reaches the scorched ground, with her sandal stepping onto the ashes.
Evelune is the first to notice, baffled more than anything, and observes Valeryctus taking another step into the circle, now with both feet on the scorched earth.
“Valeryctus!” Kaylor exclaims.
“Step back, Valeryctus.” High Priest Jochen commands.
Valeryctus doesn’t listen as the gravitating force is too much to bear. The voices fade to silence as they continue to make demands.
Come to me . . .
“Yes,” Valeryctus whispers.
Open your eyes, child.
Valeryctus feels the heat of the fire from the edges of the circle. The flames are ever closer with each step she takes, gently kissing her hands. This power is all too inviting, numbing her mind and worldly senses. Her hand extends, index finger pointing furthest, ready to embrace the flame.
A cold thundering clamp snags her shoulder, yanking her back from the flames and dragging her from scorched earth. All sound returns and her vision sharpens, realizing that Evelune has pulled her free from the unholy circle with a firm gauntlet.
“Seminarians, get her inside, now.” High Priest Jochen commands.
Evelune passes Valeryctus to Kaylor and Izahl, who hold her with both arms. She is weak and unable to control her legs which remain lifeless as if she’d taken a hot bath. It takes several moments for her to gain control of herself. Her colleagues guide her from around the back of the church and into the chapel.
“Valeryctus, what happened to you?” Kaylor asks.
“I . . . I don’t know.” Valeryctus gently shrugs her fellow students off her arms and takes her first steps. “I’m not sure. I must pray on this.”
Izahl says, “that would be wise, sister.”
“Will you be okay?” Kaylor asks.
“Of course,” Valeryctus says. “I think I have to get my belongings.”
“What for?” Kaylor asks.
“High Priest Jochen requested that I study in his private quarters.”
Izahl says, “I think High Priest Jochen has far more pressing matters to worry about tonight. You must get some rest.”
Kaylor says, “you’ll feel better in the morning, after a prayer of protection from God.”
“Yes, course.” Valeryctus agrees.
The four seminarians retreat to the basement, moving down the spiral staircase and into the stone halls. Izahl is the first to retreat to his quarters, and Kaylor reaches hers next. Valeryctus enters hers at the end, after Tyrmus. The creaky door reverbs in the stone hall as she opens and closes it. She plants herself on the metal frame. The hay mattress pokes at her thighs, piercing through the black cotton.
She is used to the rough texture. Valeryctus and her three colleagues are not worthy of the luxurious feathered pillows and stuffed mattresses with soft sheets. They must earn their right through the trials of God. Embracing pain will allow them to flourish and understand that indulgences such as a soft bed are only temporary pleasures. At least, that is what she tells herself. She must remember why it is essential to be here.
“Lord, give me strength,” Valeryctus whispers. She closes her eyes, bringing her palms together in preparation for another prayer.
I bring a gift to you . . . Child.
“Lord, if this is truly you, please give me insight into what you offer.”
I am the forger of choice. Child. Do not be alarmed. Following the ways of old will only lead you to monotony. Do you not think?
Now Valeryctus knows she’s not speaking to God. This voice . . . Belongs to the Devil.
“Shield me in your everlasting love.” Valeryctus prays quickly. Her hands are shaking.
Child. Even the house of the Creator cannot protect you. Why do you fear me?
“Oh Lord, deliver me from the evil one.”
There is no evil one.
Demon, Valeryctus thinks. She must be encountering a demon, which is beyond her skill set. She has to inform High Priest Jochen. He will shackle her and perform a righteous exorcism through words of power. Her spine tingles, and her throat tenses in fear of what her fellow loyal followers of God will think of her. Perhaps, she mustn’t tell High Priest Jochen. This will be her secret. She will be faithful in the power of God’s protection.
What type of life immersed in fear and submission is worth living?
“Father, douse me in your everlasting love. Amen.” Valeryctus opens her eyes. She breathes steadily through her nostril, filling her sense with the musty tight air mixed with the burning wax from the candle on her desk across from her. She exhales and repeats the breathing cycle several times to discover there is no more voice. The demon has been defeated. She can always rely on the power of God.
Valeryctus smiles, thanking God several times. She blows out the candle and slips into a deep sleep, letting all thoughts dissolve, knowing that she has been victorious through her faith in God.
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