After the supernatural burning circle’s arrival, the members of the church attempt to bury it with earth. Seminarian Valeryctus is haunted by a persistent whisper that High Priest Jochen warns is a demon that tempts her to stray from God. Its words are enticing, offering her a unique gift.
Part Two
Escaping internal demons is worth celebrating, at least until they return. Night after night, the whisper continues to speak to Valeryctus. The words don’t’ appear just during the day. Now they’ve seeped into her dreams. She’s attempted to push the voice out of her mind countless times through prayer with no results. She’s attempted every protection verse she knows, repeating the words of power, and somehow, none of them afflict the mental demon.
You’re worth so much more . . . The haunting whisper says. The scratchy reverb of this being endlessly loops through her mind, gradually fading into silence.
She prays, Father, in the heavenly kingdom, protect me in your eternal embrace. May the Holy Spirit shield me from the temptations of the earth. She repeats the phrase every time the haunting voice run through her mind.
God . . . The Creator has abandoned this plane. I will never abandon you. If only you will embrace me.
Every night . . . God, please answer me!
And then her night terrors begin. This voice guides her through dreams, for God does not reply. Her quarters in the chapel basement crumble her as she floats beyond this plane. The visions are brief in this other place. It’s a barren rocky wilderness, red, and has a foulness of rotten meat and metal, stinging her senses. Blood.
The following mornings, Valeryctus buries herself in her studies with the other seminarians. Since that fateful day of discovering the scorched earth, Tyrmus, Izahl, and Kaylor have been unaffected by the patch behind the church. They follow High Priest Jochen’s command as he trains them in the ways of a priest and to strengthen their relationship with God.
Each new prayer the seminarians perform is under High Priest Jochen’s watchful eye. If a poor effort is noticed, there will undoubtedly be penalty because none shall disrespects the word of God. This worries Valeryctus, whose mood shifts drastically over the week, becoming more agitated as she plucks at her skin and fingernails. Despite everything she has tried to hide this mental whisper, she can’t defeat it on her own. Now, she sits across High Priest Jochen’s desk, who listens to her ramble about invisible demons.
“And these voices . . . What are they telling you to do?” High Priest Jochen asks.
Valeryctus’s legs shake as she keeps fiddling with her fingernails. “It’s not voices. It’s a voice.”
“Right. Now describe it to me.”
“It started since that scorched earth appeared behind the chapel. It’s persuasive and asks these questions that stray from the path of God.”
In the back of Valeryctus’s mind, she cannot help but wonder what happened after they found the fiery circle. The flaming symbols and scorched earth were clear signs of something unholy. High Priest Jochen and the Shield have remained secretive about what they discovered.
She wants to ask High Priest Jochen about what they uncovered. It would be pointless because he would provide the same answer over the past weeks. He’d say, “a foolish attempt from the Devil that was abolished by God’s holy ground.” Deep down, Valeryctus knows it is a lie.
It’s clear how hastily High Priest Jochen had commended the Shield to cover the scorched earth with fresh dirt. They tossed grass seeds on the ground, attempting to bring new life. They poked shovels and pitchforks into the ash, trying to remove the burnt earth. Each new dirt tossed onto the patch turns grey and dark, with the same symbols scorched into the earth reappearing.
High Priest Jochen asks, “and you are simply hoping you could defeat this whisper on your own?”
“Apologies, High Priest Jochen. I never meant such disrespect. I only wanted to prove that I follow God’s will without question.”
“Yet you fail.”
Valeryctus looks to the ground, clutching her fingers tightly together to the point that the nails dig into her skin, puncturing the flesh. Feelings of hatred for herself boil under her skin, knowing that she is too weak to handle this demon on her own.
Weak? Comes the familiar whisper, tingling behind her ear. She twitches, scratching her lobe, hoping it will go away.
“Is it talking to you right now?” High Priest Jochen asks.
Or are you simply better than this façade?
“Yes,” Valeryctus says, feeling her eyes start to water. Her lip quivers, and she presses them tight together, swallowing her building up emotions.
Child . . . I brought you a gift. Why do you not embrace?
“What is it telling you?”
“To stray from God.”
“Specifically?” High Priest Jochen asks.
“No. It says it-“
Stop, fool! The whisper shrieks, interrupting her words. Why do you reject my gift?
Valeryctus shakes her head, trying to push the pest away. She pauses and thinks about her answer. The whispering voice is enticing. What type of gift could it possibly bring her, and why her? Valeryctus comes from no royal bloodline and has risen to nothing.
“I, well. It says I am a no-one,” Valeryctus says. “It says I am nothing.”
High Priest Jochen leans closer, cupping his hands. “The voice says you are no one?”
“Yes, that is correct. And I fear it may be right.”
“Nonsense, my child. You offer much to God. And you can offer much to me.”
Dismiss the snake.
“That is untrue, High Priest Jochen. No disrespect, of course. I’ve been here my whole life and am still struggling with such basic prayers of protection. This demon is a clear sign of it.”
“Demon, or the Devil. Your parents brought you to the church at a young age, knowing that you could offer something better for the Kingdom of Zingalg. Something beyond a life of peasant work, like your family.” High Priest Jochen pauses, leaning back in his chair. “What did it say that made you feel inoperable?”
“It’s every night. Each slumber it reaches me in my dreams.”
“Dreams?”
“Yes. My soul leaves the world entirely. Each night, after I pray to God for aid, I rise from my body. Everything I have experienced flashes before my eyes. I get clear visuals of key moments in my life.”
“Such as?”
“When I was young, an infant really, my parents surrendered me over to the church. The Shield came and beat my father. And my mother . . . They-“
“But you’re too young to remember such things. You know this is an illusion created by the demon?”
“Perhaps. But it feels so real. It shows me memories of being a child of the church. Sister Batilda lashed me more times than the others. She was ruthless, saying my idiocy would get me nowhere. I don’t pray well enough, High Priest Jochen. I just don’t pray well enough.”
“Sister Batilda only does what she must. The trials of the flesh are a natural processes when following God’s path. Your soul is full of fire, and we are aiding in neutralizing the heat to better serve the one true Lord. You must walk through these tests, knowing that the pain is temporary and God’s eternal love will hold you forever.”
“I try, Father. I just fear I am as good as I will ever be.”
“And that is the demon talking.”
A gentle knock comes from the door, catching High Priest Jochen’s attention. He stands, brushing his gown. He says, “If you’ll excuse me.”
The door creaks open, and Tyrmus steps in with his hands tightly gripping some scrolls and books. His eyes are shifty, looking at Valeryctus and then High Priest Jochen.
“I have a private study session to attend to with your colleague Tyrmus.” High Priest Jochen says.
Valeryctus stands up, saying, “of course.”
The two seminarians lock eyes as she walks past him. His face was sad, possibly the same as hers. Tyrmus hasn’t shown any signs of talking to the demon, though. Something else is concerning the boy. It doesn’t involve Valeryctus, that is what High Priest Jochen is here for. She exits the quarters, retreating back down the hall. The wooden door closes and locks, echoing against the stone walls as she reaches the chapel’s sanctuary.
Her mind wanders to Tyrmus again. She dares not toy with her first instinct.
And yet you do . . . the whisper says.
This is a holy temple, a place for God, and all things good. High Priest Jochen has led them this far, and she cannot imagine him misguiding them. Then again, just before the scorched earth, High Priest Jochen also wanted Valeryctus to participate overnight in a private study session. Could she be so naïve?
Yes.
Valeryctus shakes her head violently, storming down the sanctuary, heading for the front door, passing Izahl and Kaylor, who pray together at the front pew. The footsteps catch Kaylor’s attention, and she breaks her focus, watching as Valeryctus passes her.
Outside, Valeryctus hurries down the steps and marches along the grass. She needs to see this circle again. She’s looked at it plenty of times over the week, but she must look at it again. If it is some supposed gift from this voice, why is High Priest Jochen hiding it?
In the garden, Sister Batilda is taking a stroll with Evelune and two Shield members. The nun breaks her discussion, glaring at Valeryctus hurrying past the garden to the end of the church.
“Young lady,” Sister Batilda says in her shaky voice. Her wrinkles highlight the natural scowl that is imprinted on her face.
“Young lady!” Sister Batilda says again.
The lady’s demoralizing voice freezes Valeryctus in her step, knowing that she will be met with the whip if she does not listen.
Greedy hands route themselves in comforting words of the Creator.
“Valeryctus, come here now.” Sister Batilda says.
Resist the false prophets, and the gift is yours.
Sister Batilda will certainly lash her now. Valeryctus waited too long to respond. And now that High Priest Jochen is aware of the voice, she fears her future at the church will be bleak. Her only chance is to embrace the gift . . . what could it be?
Her first step is slow, breaking the disheartening chains of Sister Batilda’s words. The following steps are more manageable. She’s enticed by the whispering voice’s gift. She’s resisted it for so long, and surrendering to it is liberating on her soul, removing hundreds of stones off her back.
Show me, Valeryctus thinks, trying to talk with the voice.
Child . . . I embrace you.
Valeryctus picks up her pace under the cloudy sky as thundering booms erupt in the heavens, hinting at the sign of rain. It is possibly a signal of something much more powerful.
“I command you!” Sister Batilda shouts.
Valeryctus doesn’t look back, free of the nun’s spell and disappears around the corner of the building, facing the scorched earth. Small patches of grass are on freshly laid dirt. The plants are brown and lime green. Even with healthy soil laid over the top, the plants do not grow, unlike the rest of nature surrounding the chapel. Black scorched lines remain where the flaming symbols and inner circle once were. This is unholy ground.
Show me, and I will embrace you. Valeryctus reasons with the voice.
Walk . . .
She obeys, moving a dozen paces and pressing her sandal into the ritual circle, causing her hairs to stand. Her vision saturates while staring at the centre of the circle. The new dirt rapidly shifts from brown to grey. The scorched lines heat up, glowing hues of red and orange.
Dead centre in the circle is the darkest portion of this circumference which is blacker than any regular chard object. It’s so dark that no light reflects off the space. It’s unnatural and is the driving force guiding her as she moves towards it, passing the inner circle’s glowing red outline.
Walk . . .
“Valeryctus!” comes a muffled voice.
It’s difficult to tell whose calling her name because her senses are narrowed into this black void. Her peripheral view blurs, and her focus sharpens on the black centre. The sound of the wind softens as the faint voice continues to call her name.
“Valeryctus!”
Come to me . . .
Valeryctus is only a couple steps away from the harsh transition from charcoal to black. The scorched centre moves, pulsating, like a beating heart. It’s slow at first, and with each step closer, it begins to pump faster. With each pulse it makes, the earth tumbles aside, revealing a hole.
“I am,” Valeryctus says in a monotone voice.
The animated black hole expands with dirt tumbling in. Deeper inside the pit, a pale finger reaches out from the darkness. It rises slowly with the sharp grey fingernail pointing to the sky. It bends, aiming directly at Valeryctus.
Child . . .
“Valeryctus!” the gruffly voice is loud and clear. Evelune snags her shoulder and pulls her back from the hole, spinning her around to face her, just like the first night.
“Valeryctus, Sister Batilda needs to speak with you.” Evelune’s eyes scan Valeryctus’s purple irises like she is some sort of creature.
The thundering skies dissipate with the sun shining through the clouds, directly onto the two of them. Valeryctus’s vision returns to full colour, and her hearing becomes crystal clear. The strange trance is over and she realizes her entire body is sweating from head to toe. She glances over her shoulder to the black hole to see nothing. It’s only scorched earth.
Evelune looks around and leans into Valeryctus’s ear. Her breath is hot as she says, “I hear it too.”
Valeryctus almost gasps. She was so close to uncovering the whispering voice’s gift. Everything she experienced from this being was powerful and defied everything she had practiced at the church. God has never been so direct before. Whether it is a demon or the Devil, Valeryctus knows she is not alone, for another listens to the whisper.
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