Eyes In The Garden

Ch. 2 - The Guilded Man

(Image from - https://www.artstation.com/artwork/rR4RJG)

     "How does one recover from witnessing a daemon incursion? The frightening events.. I am plagued with the memories of that time and accompanied with this in every faithful's story.. they reach for my conscious.. Emperor, how do I help your servants when I, the keeper of your word, am broken? One by one they entered the ruined cathedrals, not a soul alive can go a day without confessions. I arrive each morning before the rise of the sun, I leave the doors open because it is of no use to close when they come. From the first to the last I listen.. children, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, cousins, vagabond, old, deaf, blind.. it never ends, every hour worse than the next. I cannot heal them all. The conscious can carry so much before it cracks, I can feel that fissure. One thing stands out after we survived.. I have given it some thought.. the night of the incursion right after the first cathedral fell I saw something I can't quite explain. The sky opened and..  Im not sure I believe it what I saw.. amidst the terror and confusion it.. It hides with the Great Enemy. I must discover these truths before I lose myself, I must.. before I am corrupted."

     The screen went black, the man who stood there with heavy robes looked upon his own reflection. It was a defeated expression but still his old features stared back. It was a difficult sight to take in, a servant of the Emperor broken by the Great Enemy. He left the small building seeing the beautiful lush green forest greet him, it brought back memories of his beloved. He looked at the sky, "Estelle.. do you remember this? The forest where we spent hours together? I wonder if the Emperor frowns upon you as I speak." He let a slight laugh follow his statement.

    As he walked through the quiet woods he continued his thoughts, she would have embarrassment at first for the Emperor sees all. The punishment would be mild he presumed seeing they were in love and hardly a threat to the ecclesiarchy or the stability of mankind, perhaps even contrary to that. The joyful thoughts faded as he approached the city, the smell of ash and destruction flashed through his mind restoring grim events. "Another day in these bleak ruins." He spoke to himself of the war that had ended and left behind a crippled society, one that could not communicate beyond the stars anymore. The churning mixture of dust, ash and bone were a constant scene, it was never ending, every street and alley held accountable for sheltering the horrid mess.

     It weighed heavy on him, to many bodies had been left unidentifiable by unspeakable horrors, but more concerning was the lack of people to identify them. He walked the streets everyday in hopes of seeing a new face, the defeated reflections gazed back with a depression that seemed to linger. Still, a smile and gentle wave masked the dwelling pain, he knew it did little but he dare not show the true fractured state he was in. As he came across familiar areas, flashes of the past barraged his mind, they forced his memory to see  the once violent scenes. Everyday he repeated this ritual, never had he been so utterly defeated by a simple walk, the world was baptized in the ashes of the dead and there was no escaping it.

     "Forgive me, God-Emperor.. I am a servant of your word, I bring others to your path and should not stray.. I.." doubt casted a great shadow upon him. Without saying another word he continued down the streets, he continued the same smile and wave giving statements of comfort every now and then. Determination. Duty. The core to his salvation from the grasp of the abyss fortified his composition, he had an investigation to conduct and the time for mourning was done. With the height of the day approaching he had reached his destination straightening his thoughts, arranging them respectively to their positions readying for attack. Just before knocking on the heavy wooden door he traced the spine of the sizable book to his side, it was his life's work, a tome comprised of every teaching he had received in his life and now he felt it for comfort.