Plague of divinity

Chapter 11

Enrick felt sick. He couldn't get away fast enough. He shakily struggled to stand up, his feet slipping on some of the debris left by the corpse. Its clouded eyes stared at him, the jaw torn at a hideous angle along with what should have been its limbs. The trace of a dark fluid trailed from its mouth and nose. The ribcage appeared to have been caved in and then torn open, quite a few organs were missing, assumedly due to the courtesy of any passing by predators or scavenging birds. A few odd mushrooms appeared to have sprouted from where the blood had soaked the ground and flattened wheat below.

He eventually managed to get a grip and pushed himself up hurriedly. This couldn't be real. He hated that his dream had suggested a disgustingly familiar situation and he hated that he knew exactly of whom the body belonged to. The images flashed back in his mind as he sprinted as fast as he could through the field. The person... back at the temple. That was them.

He felt a lump in his throat. He was used to death, so why was this any different? He could feel his breaths quicken as he got to the fence, hopping over and nearly slipping, just managing to catch his balance before continuing to run. He was supposed to be a doctor. He was supposed to save people, not get them killed. Guilt writhed around in his stomach.

He had done that, his actions had led to someone ending up dead in a field and it was all his fault. His footsteps thudded against the more solid ground of the street as he ran back into the town. What the hell was he to do after that? Should he just leave it there? Could he just leave it there?

Eventually he ran out of breath and was forced to stop and take a moment to catch it again. He leant against a wall and heaved as he struggled to breathe in the humid climate of his mask. The rain was pounding down viciously, he had to find cover soon. Looking around he realized he wasn't too far from where Lydia lived. If he went over he should be able to pick up the notes at the same time. He began to walk towards where she had been known to live when he was last in Mordich.

Thoughts swirled through his mind as he walked along, he could still see the mangled body taunting him behind his eyes, every time he shut them he could see the exhausted expression upon the bruised face. Along with these images his mind couldn't help but summon images from his own dream. He was a little surprised he had still remembered it after a few days but there was something about the way it made him feel, something about the isolation and lack of control that still made him shiver. He felt there was something he should be trying to connect. The surroundings when he had fallen over the corpse and landed on the ground were just too familiar for him to ignore. The scenes ran through his head one after the other. The night setting, the images of wheat, the feeling of 'almost' being alone... it was all too similar. Had he... witnessed the event? No... surely not...

But what if it was... something else. What if the reason the dream disturbed him so much is because... it wasn't really a dream...

Enrick wasn't far from Lydia's house by now. He felt thankful when he reached the door there was a little covering over the entrance, finally getting him out of the torrent. He lifted his dirty gloved hand up to the door before pausing... the pale sandals... those who wore sandals of that colour didn't usually go outside very often, hence the reason they were able to keep them so clean... As a sudden realization hit he felt his heart drop. He had known the person wouldn't have died from their sickness that quickly; there is no sickness in the world that would ever do something like that to someone. There wasn't many people he could think of that fit the bill but...

He stared at a random groove of wood in the door as only three words latched onto his mind... The old priest. The only thing he could think that could oppose it was the fact it would be hard for such an old man to carry it out by himself... were... they all in on it? Enrick lowered his hand. When they had spoken in front of that crowd... did... the priest know he was going to break his word when he gave it?

He stood still. How could he have been such an idiot... of course he was never going to keep his word. He felt like an idiot, he should have known they had ulterior motives. He would have said anything in front of that crowd as long as it meant he could get on with his duties... watching the temple.

Despite him knowing he shouldn't have been so trusting, Enrick couldn't shake the stab of betrayal in his heart. When they were younger, it was always taught one could trust the priests. They were told they weren't just there to present these grand deities, but to also look after the people as well. Wise people who would take care of those who in need but also bring justice to those deserving. Not violent... liars. There was a part of him who felt guilty for putting such expectations on them with the suggestions of others serving in the place of actual experience. He was a fool for believing in such a silly ideal as that. How else would their temple have remained so pristine during the time of calamity, where lots of people are either dying or have given up and are trying to have some fun at the very least before they are taken out by the same thing that took their loved ones.

Enrick felt embarrassed. He knew they had probably laughed at his futile attempts to save the person who had already been decided to end up the way they did as soon as the crowd had left earshot. He'd trusted them so much when he was younger, it hurt a little to find out it was built on false ideals.