Chương 59: THE WINDS OF PROMISE

A month had passed since the end of the world. The earth itself shook, and the world was ravaged by demons. But it was not the demons that ended mankind. It was man suffering from itself. With destruction came power, and those who were willingly sucked into the vacuum tasted its sweet kiss and emerged demons themselves. But not everyone was damned. Some, like the people of Acron Church, could be saved. The Redeemer came to them, apparated from the mist of the morning, and he told them not to be afraid.

He told the believers to continue to believe and that he had seen the future. The promised land. The perfect ending. Many doubted him. But time and time again, his prophecies came true, and they began to worship him. For that kind of foresight was reserved for those housed within the divine sanctuary. He equipped his followers with strength they had never seen, allowing them to prosper when the world had otherwise been forgotten. Each move was deliberate. Each gift was planned.

They were marked in a book only meant for his eyes. The book that became known as the Redeemer's Tome. It was said that those who looked inside would have their eyes gouged out by the mystical beast that guarded it. Its name was the Fury, and it protected the prophet and his people. What was written in that book was the story of their great enemy. The one they were at war with. The one whose singular purpose was brought about by the greatest envy, hatred, and sin.

Once a Redeemer himself, but cast down from heaven only to return as a snake in the grass. A story all too familiar. A mimic of man's worst sin. He became known as Monan the adversary. And it was the true Redeemer who had come to slay him. To protect mankind as he sought to destroy them all. So they had to fight. Everyone had to fight. This was the great war of the Redeemers for the salvation of man. Ellie remembered when it all started. The others marked her as one of the chosen.

The Redeemer came to their church, and she was the first to greet him and the first to receive his gift. Then upon her neck emerged the mark of the healer, and she was privy to the great miracle of his gifts. They treated her special like the Virgin Mary reborn, but she knew she was far from it. She was the Redeemer's biggest doubter, and yet she was chosen anyway. It felt freeing.

A man whom everyone thought was the most powerful in the world was showing her special favor even though she made sure he knew she didn't want it. All she wanted was to help her people. He didn't deny her that. Their goals were aligned, and she didn't doubt that. He'd already saved many before her. Though she looked for innumerable ways to see through his act of selflessness, she couldn't spy the crack in his façade. It was not a façade. The man was true.

Determined, somber, broken, like he had once been saved himself and was making amends. And he had saved her. Another lost soul on his journey, who had lost faith in her brothers and sisters. Trying to search for his weaknesses only led to her discovering her own façade. She was pretending to be selfless to cover the holes in herself. To cover the fact that she never had any faith at all. So she agreed to follow him to war along with everyone else. She helped guide their preparations.

People were training with their loot stacks. The power the Redeemer had given them. Others prayed. The rest sat close with their families, holding them while they still could. The Redeemer's prophecy said that no matter the outcome of this fight, they would be reborn. And it would either be in Monan's world or in T'balt Ferrier's. Cannon returned to the church with a party of wrestlers and a young girl on his neck, so excited to be able to touch the ceiling.

The seven-year-old had attended all of the major hunting parties, always under the personal protection of the large wrestler. Her tracking loot led them to all the loot they needed, and the band would slay the monster that held it. Then they would come home with a large sack of the looter's coin.

"Higher. Higher," Genya called.

"Any higher and you'd be on the next floor, little one," Cannon said.

"How about a trip to the ground now that we've landed at home base?"

"Boooo…" She gasped when she saw the abbot approaching.

"Arthur. Arthur. Look what we found." Arthur smiled.

"A good haul today, Genya? What have you found?"

"The right stuff," Cannon boasted.

"The last on the list."

"I expect nothing less from our dream team." Cannon handed over the duffel bag full of loot to Arthur. He checked the inside, but before he could, a flash zipped through them, snatching the bag. It surprised them all until they saw the munchkin taking his own peek in the bag, far enough away that by the time they walked over to him, he would've found something he was looking for. Unfortunately for him, he landed right in front of Ellie.

"Acelin…" She plucked him on the forehead, leading to an elongated, "Owwwwa. I was going to give it back," he said.

"Well, you shouldn't have taken it in the first place. That's not what good boys do."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't have to if I got to pick my own loot."

"The Redeemer picked loot especially for you for a reason. It's power meant for you and only for you, and he trusts you with it." Acelin could never hold his own in a scolding from Ellie. The way she looked at him, never angry but always quaint and smiling. It was so off-putting to him that he would just turn red and surrender. He handed her the bag, and she politely thanked him as he zipped off before he could hear her. Cannon reacted to his speed, catching him and picking him up to his back.

Acelin tried to get away, but was no match for the muscle-bound strength of the man. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Carrying both the kids now, he said, "How about we all get some grub and leave the planning to the adults?"

"Cannon, you're an adult, too," spouted Genya.

"Since when?" Ellie watched them go with some semblance of hope in her heart. But it was masked by the uneasy foreboding in her stomach. Arthur came to her then.

"You look… profound this evening."

"I wasn't aware profound was a way you can look."

"You're worried… as you always are."

"Is it that obvious?"

"It's okay to worry. Some people assume that fear always means there's danger. But it really means there's an unknown ahead. A hurdle to overcome. Sometimes that means you're on the cusp of something extraordinary. A rebirth."

"You're right." She presented him the bag of loot.

"I think you should take him this time." She smiled.

"Thanks." Arthur followed her up the stairs into the church's main hall, and they were greeted by a human-sized statue. A perfect recreation of the archangel Michael's slaying of Lucifer. It nearly jump-scared Ellie. It felt almost out of place. As did the old woman in the spotted yellow dress.

"Oh, Ellie." Martha grabbed her hands, leading her over to the front of the statue. Her hands were covered in grey dried clay. But that didn't stop her from excitedly pulling on Ellie's bare hand. She presented her to the statue.

"What do you think? Does it fit or should I maybe install it somewhere else?"

"I think it looks beautiful, Martha," Ellie said.

"Perfect. Like a freshly bloomed spring morning," said Arthur, coming up behind them.

"I didn't ask you. You always say that." Martha pouted.

"Because it's always true."

"I'd have to agree," Ellie said.

"You poured all your soul into this sculpture, Martha. You should be proud." Martha smiled.

"Well, I was surprised when the Redeemer told me he wanted me to make it. It was never something I planned to show anyone, but then it felt like it was my calling to make it. You'll tell him it's ready?"

"I will," she said.

"And thank him."

"For the both of us." Arthur grabbed onto his wife's clay-dust hand, kissing it despite. Ellie walked up another flight of stairs to the third floor where he was. Her heart started jumping with each step towards him. She clutched the bag tight to her chest, knowing the meaning of it. She knew that once she handed him this final thing, all things would come to an end. Reborn. She would forget all of this. All the people she met, and she would forget him.

She contemplated dropping the bag in the closest river, but knew he would only find it. So she made her journey slow, reveling in the purpose she was gifted for the moments she still could. He was on the balcony staring into the sky. The wind was blowing, waving his messy black hair at her. She felt she'd watched him change before her very eyes. His facial hair had grown to an unkempt stubble, and his hair was longer, like he'd woken from hibernation. But she knew this was the way of those filled with prophecy.

They kept themselves unburdened and let their bodies be free as he did now, seemingly staring into the wind and feeling its gentle hands caress his cheeks. She waited a long while watching him. He said nothing for that same while despite knowing she was there. He just fiddled with the chain link attached to his choker. After some minutes of standing in the blessed wind, he spoke.

"Tell Martha I like the statue." He didn't turn to look at her reaction. If he did, he would've seen the sorrow in her eyes. But he continued.

"With that, we've gathered everything. All the people. All the loot. Everything's almost perfect… I can feel it. This is the one... I know what you're concerned about. But the children are vital to the plan. I can't afford to let either of them sit out. In a weird way, I trust them more than most people here, even though they'd all give their lives for me. Even if I didn't ask. It's only temporary. Then I can end this for good."

He had the entire conversation with himself as if he were peering into the deepest parts of her thoughts, answering her every question before she could ask. But there was something that did surprise him. The sounds of her crying. He turned to her then.

"What's the matter?" She wiped her face, looking at his eyes that were warm yet so deliberate, as if they had lost something human about them.

"How many times have you been here?" It was a strange thing to surprise a Redeemer. He had always known all things. That's why he was a god to them. But now for the first time, he looked as though he didn't know how to answer.

"I don't know. I feel like I'm at least a year older than when I first started, but time is… we have to win. That's all I can care about this life." She dropped the bag, pulling him to her and holding him tight. He hesitated to return the embrace, almost afraid of what it might mean. He had turned into something different. Not the T'balt that he was. This Ellie wouldn't have known that, but it was almost like she could sense it. All that he had given for this one cause.

To her, this battle he was fighting was all for them. Truthfully, he was fighting for selfish reasons because this was what he had to do first. Before he could save them, he would have to save himself. He looked her in the eyes, to the windows of her heart.

"I'm ready," she said.

"Whatever you ask, I'll do."

"Good. Then get everyone together. We move tonight." Monan stood upon a grand stage in the capital building of what he called The City of the End. The beginning of the end. The building rested in the highest hills, a palace reigning over its prominence, ready with the bolt of smite at its fingertips. And he was the ruler, beating his chest for the mass of bandits to see. They were beating in unison. Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump.

When they looked up, they saw their great leader with the light of the heavens glowing around him. He was revitalized, rejuvenated, breathing in the air of chaos like it was his first high. He fed from the solitude and devotion of his crowd of thugs and backwater miscreants. He was their leader and their saint. And as all saints do, he delivered a proverb at the seat of his great throne.

"This is the night where we live as kings or die as kings! I have seen the end! I have seen the beginning! It is all the same! We live on lust, greed, envy, gluttony, pride, wrath, sloth! There is no god! There is only me! Your Redeemer! And I promise you… Before today is up, we will all be reborn in a new world!" In their hoods, jackets, and savage armor, they beat on the metal on their chests, cheering for their Redeemer, ready to fulfill his every desire.

For them to enter the land of rebirth, first, they must destroy the world, starting with T'balt Ferrier. Monan sat on his great throne, which he had prepared for himself. It was made of the bones of the Seraph. Its giant stone skull and corroded wings decorated the walls behind him. He smiled as all the men and women strode out into the world ahead. They took to the streets, driving through the city in cars, trucks, and dune buggies in a mass of at least a hundred.

They screamed over a track of heavy metal music, screeching out of the lead car. They were heading straight for the church in an attack it would never have seen before. Arthur watched at the end of the road. He was standing in their path. A lone soldier facing the stampede. The other believers were hidden in great numbers in the nearby buildings. He held his hands together behind him, watching the dust cloud of devils coming his way.

"Forgive me, lord." He kissed the cross hanging from his neck and sheathed it underneath his robes. And the Fury emerged to greet the assault.