Chapter 10: Death of the Sun
In the split second you have to react, your knee-jerk response is to invoke Agriculture. But the absence of life around this demon's lair, the sun beating down overhead, and the imminent attack heading towards you and your allies makes you cry out one name, and one name alone.
"MERCY!"
A wall of shadow bursts forth from the ground and threatens to encapsulate you and your allies completely. Your scream echoes down the street, as the sun overhead redoubles in heat and strength. From your outstretched hands flares a tower shield broad enough to cover you and everyone at your back, made of solid rays of light that is utterly blinding to gaze upon as a mortal or demon.
Your forces collide. It sends you skidding back ten feet, while you dig in your heels, and scream at everyone to stay behind you. Everything is happening so quickly, you can scarcely register the shock to your soul. The sharp pain is like a muscle tearing on a fundamental level, but it is
no deterrent.
You dig deep, and take a step
forward, sweat sticking to your brow. The force you have to exert to push back against this creature is obscene.
A hideous shriek rings out from the house down the road. The shadow around you all is smoking and steaming from the sheer amount of heat resonating from your defense, and the wall of darkness gradually retreats.
From under your feet and the dirt mounded practically up to your ankles streaks a fountain of cerulean paint. You hazard a glance over your shoulder, to see that Father Wilhelm is grinning from ear-to-ear. The man's in the throes of his own God, and breathlessly mouths,
'thanks.'
The liquid attack he's sent towards your enemy creeps like a reflection of the sky beneath your secondary sun. Before it reaches its destination, you mutter to everyone to move with you, closer to one of the neighboring houses.
No complaints. A formation is made around Rolfe, with you at the tip, your fellow priests at the rear, and the defenseless man at its center. He's far too terrified to speak, but you're glad to provide further reassurance under your breath.
"We need to eliminate fear of the unknown."
The streaks of blue that have been snaking through the yard slow their procession. Father Pevrel can't help but bark a laugh. He has yet to do so much as draw his sword— but this priest does not call upon the God of Vengeance. He waits for his patron to come to
him.
The lord of darkness growls, "it doesn't seem bothered by anything
inhuman."
With a fluid motion of his hands— keeping the gesture completely hidden behind your figure— Father Wilhelm fashions the manifestation of his God into a decoy. For a split second, the paint he's sent out assumes the shape of a humanoid figure.
Shadow rears its ugly head, and crashes down like a wave on top of the paint and illusion.
The man by your side nearly buckles at the knees. You're keeping your hands tight, reinforcing the barrier around you all. Father Pevrel gladly keeps the older priest from crumpling to the ground.
"It's not attacking anything physically—" Father Wilhelm is cut short.
The house at your back peels away from its facsimile of a normal structure. The shape and form of brick and glass melds into darkness, rearing back and stretching above all of your heads.
Your eyes take in all the sun.
"Move! With me!"
Backing up rapidly, you dig deep, and thrust your shield away with all the faith you possess.
The tidal wave of shadow crashes down, meeting an explosion of light and glimmer only ten feet above your heads. A terrible tremor shakes the ground underfoot, as the silent collision rattles your teeth, and puts another tear deep in the heart of you. It's almost enough to make you clutch onto your chest, but you keep backing away, not daring to take your eyes off from the assault.
With your hands overhead, you bring your fists together, and swing down the canopy of light you've constructed into an even denser barrier. It's almost opaque, and Rolfe is having to squint to see.
Comfort snakes around your chest and heart, soothing the heat on your brow, the agony in your soul, and the inescapable feeling that this monstrosity can actually meet your ability. After all, you have two allies at your back— that have been apparently experimenting while you've been saving their lives.
They're talking in low voices. Father Wilhelm's is so distant, it's almost imperceptible— save for the ring of divinity that makes each word stick closer to your perception than anything of the mortal coil.
"If we can disguise ourselves, I believe we can get closer inside."
"There's no one inside," Rolfe insists. "The pretty-boy who lived there killed himself over thirty years ago—"
You all give him a disparaging look.
So it was a suicide victim who turned.
You don't need to invoke Agriculture to know Her blessings. She's given you a part of Her, so quickly feeling out along the land, you can tell even from a distance that there is no movement from within the house.
Father Pevrel begs to differ. "There's more than one body inside. One demon. Not sure about the state of the rest." He suddenly screams, "Anscham—!"
You turn on a heel, and are face-to-face with bullets made entirely of darkness. Faster than the blink of an eye— faster than you can catch your breath— you draw your arms apart, and draw a colossal sheet of liquid gold just behind the barrier you've already created.
Every bullet heading your way melts on contact, but it's not enough to stop the projectiles.
There's no way anyone else can even register what's happening, but you superheat the gold you've created, burning the wads of shadow before you beyond any form of recognition. Liquid darkness drips to the floor, and you're suddenly slammed at your back by another figure.
Father Wilhelm is right at your back. You fire a wide-eyed look over your shoulder— you were struggling to stay on your feet, and have to fight not to lean too hard against him— to see that the man is turning an equal number of projectiles heading your way into a flock of painted bluebirds.
They take off towards the sun.
You and your ally share a brief grin.
Father Pevrel is shielding Rolfe with the entirety of his body, and shouts to you all, "we need to get inside!"
"That's suicide!" Rolfe is far beyond the point of shaking. He fires a terrified stare to the house down the way, and to the three of you.
Your ally, the lord of darkness, and the leader of the Church of Vengeance fires you a crooked smile. "I don't think that's ever stopped us before. This thing is—"
Another barrage. The small projectiles have fallen, but now a thinner spread of jet-black spikes are pelting forth from the house. Though the houses nearest to the demon's lair were overtaken, you're certain this the full reach of this demon's domain.
The villagers must have been safe from a distance, but at this proximity, you absolutely are not.
Gold pouring from your hands, you and Father Wilhelm take a single step forward towards the attack. As you bring up a solid sheet of metal and sunlight, he brings down a wall of clouds and night. The two forces slam shut over every spike mid-air, snapping them in half, and stopping the attack in its tracks.
You nearly drop to the floor. The way that Mercy is working through you has your vision swimming. Heat and intoxication has your stressed body pushed
far harder than usual. You're trying not to gasp or moan, and have to wonder if the lack of restraint you've exhibited towards your vessel is hurting your connection— or if you're simply being tested by the demon.
It certainly feels like every connection you make with it is testing you more than it should be.
The demon is readying another assault.
"Back up!"
No questions. Your allies turn to run.
Holding your ground, you drop to one knee, and place a hand to the street. The road is practically on fire.
The entirety of the road rears its ugly head, like a snake that's been cornered.
Your allies continue moving back, while you clasp your hands together, and pray.
"Goddess of Defense—!"
Tendrils of shadow whip and lash forward, snaking past you and the burst of light that shields the entirety of your body from view and harm.
The attack is heading down the road, straight past you.
"Safeguard the WEARY!"
A beam of light sears down from the sky, cutting most of the tendrils in half before they can reach your allies. Only a few thin stragglers remain, but they sweep up the mass of the fallen shadow, and streak by even faster than before.
Anguish threatens to take your words from your lips, but you cry out,
"grant your will to the UNDESERVING!"
Every member of your company must be beyond the end of the road. You turn, and see that the demon's reach is actually not very far at all. It's halted just beyond the first set of houses on either side of the street. A visible aura of dread reeks from it, but it quickly retracts, settling on licking around the barrier you've erected.
You can't take it, and let out a cry. The sensation is akin to having your soul worked over with a rake.
Father Pevrel has Vengeance on him, is smiling like a man possessed, and has run just outside of the demon's reach. Every word that leaves him is sinister enough to suck the light out from around him.
"We're going to die if we stay out here! It has mastery over its domain outside. It's hiding something in there, Anscham. There may be survivors! If we kill it here and now, we'll never know! Will you cover me?!"
Rolfe and Father Wilhelm are hanging back, just behind Father Pevrel. The common man who's survived this ordeal so far can't even look at you, but with his eyes shielded he calls, "I've never heard of anyone actually getting inside during the day! It might be safer. Right?!"
The fact that even the poisoner has changed his tune gives you a little hope.
From the house ahead rises a shriek that could peel the flesh off of bone. It drops Rolfe to his knees, clutching onto his ears in agony. You and your fellow invokers wince— protected by the might of the Gods— but it's enough to work into the goosebumps on your neck, the sweat that's drenching you, and through the gold sticking to the palms of your hands.
Light pours from your eyes. You're certain you'd be the only source of daylight within this Gods-forsaken structure, if your allies are dead-set on going in.
The barrier you have put up might be sound-proof. You risk screaming, despite how much it hurts to strain yourself in any further capacity.
"Father Wilhelm?!"
"I'm right behind you."
He's literally standing right behind you, and seems to have begun the process of melting every tendril around you down into paint. It looks like laborious work, but the man is keeping the worst of the attack at bay. Puddles of tempera and oils course down the street, intertwining with the light that flickers off towards the unforgiving sky.
You ease him into your barrier, and try not to drop to the ground.
"Thank you."
"We'll be just fine. I'm going to send a few decoys just ahead of us, and will disguise our bodies. Father Pevrel knows what he's doing, too. Do you think you can stand?"
>A] Kill the demon from down the road, where you and your allies will be completely safe. You may be killing innocents, and will garner no favor from Mercy or Agriculture for passing up on an opportunity to grant a demon atonement, but it will ensure the safety of everyone in the village, and will guarantee no further loss of life.
>B] You'll work in tandem with Father Wilhelm to keep off the worst of the attack outside, to try and not push yourself any further. Trust Father Pevrel to be the tip of the spear. Head in, stick together, and invoke only Mercy. You trust in your Goddess.
>C] Try to move in with everyone together. You'll invoke Agriculture as well, knowing that there is almost nothing that could stand in your way. The combined might of the earth, the sun, and all of your love is going to tax your body and soul even more, but you can't risk taking any chances here.
>D] You've learned the reach of this demon, a great deal about the extent of its power, and several of its behaviors. There's likely some further strategy you could employ! (Write-in.)
