Lone wolf chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dark Priest Xande

He watched as the two men squared off with the homeless man, his father held him tight, preventing him from rushing to the elderly man's defense as the two men, gang members he would later find out, beat the fool senseless.

“Look well upon it my son, there is not a single person in this group who is not a victim and villain.” he explained as the two gang members struck out, beating the man half to death.

The homeless man pulled a gun halfway into the beating and fired off a shot, screaming in some manner of deranged gibberish.

The remaining gang member fled through the streets, but not before being shot in the back as he fled.

The homeless man, in his fury, then turned on lurion and his father.

“A pity, though he wasn't worth the breath he drew, he still lived.” lurion's father lamented, and with a wave of his hand the homeless man burst into flame.

“father what did you do?!” lurion cried.

“did you not see him? He would have killed us both, his wits were gone in any case. That man was so addicted to drugs that he attacked a younger member of those people's gang in order to rob him, these two were dispensing their own twisted form of justice...and look at them now...hm.” he nodded as he gestured to the two corpses littering the alley.

“this is mankind, my son. Abandon all delusions of reason from the human race now. Humanity are devils, to them, those positive emotions you love so much are but a fretful convenience at best. They do not care for you, they do not even care for one another save when they've the luxury to do so. No son, give men nothing, and they will begin to take, teach a man violence, and he will learn to hate. This is the true shape of men, lurion...devils...the lot of them, eventually they may become mighty demons if they continue down this path...and I wonder what you will say in their defense then? Will you perhaps bring up the necessity of their actions? Do not make me laugh. Those gang members are just as vile as that vagrant they were beating, there were no true victims here, only animals, scrabbling for senseless purpose in a world bereft of it. I wonder….is this the world you crave little one? A world of….”freedom?” his father began to laugh at that, a cold, haunting sound that rang melodiously across the brick walls of the buildings keeping this small alley encased in frigid shadow.

The dead remained even as his father dragged him into the snowy streets of new york.

“Never forget this lesson, my son. Men are not worthy of you, or me..they will live and die alone, surrounded by the eternal pretense of social and cultural values, but eternally isolated from one another. Family? Friendship? All alternative names for business arrangements, pretentious nonsense dropped at the first sign of tro-” lurion pulled away from him.

“You don't understand anything!!” he yelled, and he fled through the crowds while his father watched on, impassively.

All around him the faces of complete strangers stared onward, empty, hollow, devoid of life, forever trapped in the merciless cycle of society, a self-feeding abyss of nothingness enforced on pain of death.

He saw their faces for what they truly were then, masks, masks being worn to defend the facade of social cooperation, masks meant to sustain simple survival.

“you're wrong!” lurion shouted as he raced through the streets. “they're more than that!!”

“But they weren't, were they lurion?” garland asked as he awoke, barely cognizant enough to halt his own words as he spoke of the past self, almost as if “Lurion” were another person.

“In the end they warred with themselves on a planetary scale a third time. A third time with weapons so powerful...they surely doomed the world….world war three...nuclear annihilation. What good was your faith in men, little pup? What use was your hope for the good of men when the good of men may well have never existed at all?”

he muttered this as he rose, shaking off a day's worth of sleep.

Ten years had passed, yet garland hadn't aged, he had, however, learned a substantial amount about alendarc, the world he was in.

alendarc was the realm of magic, a realm where dreams became reality.

Over ten years garland had meditated, had trained, and had ultimately acquired a modest understanding of green magic, the power to manipulate and summon plantlife at will.

But this green magic wasn't useful in battle.

Syena's tree had been mended five years ago, but garland didn't care about that any longer.

In truth, garland's thoughts turned to home, earth, the world that was surely a nuclear wasteland by now, and if it wasn't, it was surely in bad shape.

Garland couldn't imagine that humans, who couldn't stop killing one another for over two thousand years, could hope for anything resembling a happy ending, and he no longer thought of them as anything other than beasts.

With the tenth year ended on this very day, garland had no further reason to be here. He'd learned all he could from the ents, and he departed the forest before they could seen him off.

Over the past ten years his appetite had diminished, fading away entirely. He'd taken time to explore his body, and found that its supernatural strengths had been coupled with an almost complete removal of his needs.

He no longer ate, save once or twice a month, and even then food didn't seem to sustain him anymore, his body remained whole, never deteriorating, never aging.

Ten years was not so long, but garland, once twenty five, was now in his mid-thirties, what should have been a milestone was little more than a simple acknowledgment that he'd aged at all, and he barely felt any older.

Perhaps it was his presence in this world? Or perhaps he needed to accept that he was never human to begin with, and that his human weaknesses had been exclusive to his time on earth.

No matter.

Without thinking, he headed for the city of dimmery for a rematch against the temple of mateus, he felt the need to settle a score with them, perhaps for vengeance, or perhaps he could bury the hatchet?

The moment the thought left his mind however, he instead turned away.

His daily routine in the grove had been maintained for ten years, ten years of doing the same thing over and over, meditate, train in basic green magic spells, tend to the grove.

On it had gone for ten years, ten years spent wholly on one set of daily actions.

Garland wanted nothing to do with the city of elves, he left, barely aware that his black coat was frayed, his pants tattered, his boots stained.

Ten years without replacing his clothing, ten years locked in a sort of behavioral stasis, had taken its toll on his apparel.

He didn't care.

Before he could leave however, the two fairies he'd met earlier came up to him and chanted words of power he recognized as some manner of spell.

Casting a pair of luminous orbs at him, his body was engulfed in a curious light, and he stood there, glancing at his frame as their magic went to work, mending and enhancing his clothing.

His coat was restored, the tatters and fraying at the bottom now resembling bat-wing tips, the zipper had been replaced with a golden fringe, and the buckles were now shaped like moons and could no longer be connected.

The shoulder pads now had a set of silver pauldrons that were affixed with glowing crimson sigils that he would later discover cast basic barrier spells around him to keep him dry during the rain.

His boots had undergone the more drastic change, the metal plates, rusted and deteriorated as they'd been, were now wolf-faced emblems etched onto each strap hooking over the front of the boot, each wolf face glowed a dull red.

The strap's edges now resembled bat-wings, and the bottoms had been completely restored.

His pants had been mended entirely and a gold chain spilled over one of the pockets, looping around his front to hang as an ornament of sorts, from this chain several small bead chains hung loosely, each one affixed with what resembled a spell tag.

His shirt was more or less unchanged, though his ascot was now crimson instead of black, the collar of his shirt was a bit higher and laced with gold.

He looked to the fairies for an explanation, but they simply giggled and fled, and after inspecting his restored clothing, he gave a sigh and decided that they'd simply helped him out of the goodness of their hearts. Tricksters or no, they seemed amicable enough.

Taking off the coat, he noted that there was a glowing red image on the back of the coat, the face of a dragon.

Shrugging he put the coat back on and left, wondering where he should go next. Dimmery seemed a reasonable start if he wanted answers, but he would doubtless meet resistance from the locals if he tried.

All the same, perhaps discovering who had given the fanatics the means to summon him would bring him closer to resolving the mystery of why he was even here.

Torn between purpose and the desire to simply wander, he reluctantly began the journey to dimmery, ready for a fight should it come to that.

Despite his efforts, par managed to find him just as he was exiting the forest, and the ent stopped him.

“where will you go?” he asked.

Garland shrugged. “I wish to sate my curiosity. I'm heading back to the temple, where I was summoned. It is my hope to infiltrate the city unnoticed and gather information.”

“Be careful if you must enter, as you are well aware, elves came to the ents seeking you out. They found little of course, to convince them of your presence here, but they were very determined to have you.”

“sounds like their problem, not mine.”

The ent thrust a maple staff out toward him.

“with this, you are now a green mage. You have come to understand our people over the ten years you've spent here. At my behest, the fairies Palom and Porom have enchanted your clothing to ensure it doesn't wear down again.”

“I confess, I find the alterations they made...quite fetching.” garland replied, taking the staff and looking it over.

“walk with care, you will be in danger if you return to the elves. No doubt they will hope to finish what they began. You have been a friend to us and- where are you going?” garland didn't bother sticking around to listen to par-salain finish his speech about friendship and debts owed, it wasn't his way, he loathed such speeches, seeing them as pretentious nonsense.

“Know that you have allies in us, lone wolf!! do not turn away from our kinship!!” par called out after him, but garland wasn't listening.

He loathed the idea of being friends with anyone, this had been a business matter, and little else, and while he relished in helping the ents, he didn't wish to burden them with his presence any longer.

He had no intention of ever returning to their grove.

He didn't want to feel the inevitable sting of betrayal when they turned on him out of convenience.

Just like….they had done…

he arrived at the gates to dimmery mere days later, he wore a hood to conceal his features. One of the alterations to his attire was the presence of a face mask, and he made it a point to combine it with his hood to fully mask his features. His clothing was not distinct enough that he wouldn't be immediately recognized as “the demon” but he was wary of the elves nonetheless.

Still when he entered they addressed him as “father” once more mistaking him for a pastor of the luminaire faith, he made it through the gates, one hand gripping the staff as he tapped it against the cobblestones, weaving through the crowds of elves on their way to work, or perhaps to the markets, another hand folded behind his back while his eyes settled on the temple, it practically dominated the entire skyline on one side of the city, so vast was it that garland hardly understood how he'd ever managed to escape the thing.

And now he was going to be returning to the summoning room to inspect the circle, assuming it remained.

As he walked, a guard walked up to him and, saluting said “sir, we have need of you!! please come this way!!”

“For what purpose?” garland asked, irritated.

“we need a healer sir!!”

“I am ill-taught in the ways of healing magicks. For whatever reasons my capacity to use them was stunted.”

“and..you are a pastor of the faith sir?” the guard asked, shocked.

“I compensated for my shortcomings with basic green magicks, subsequently I am unfit to be a healer. I offer succor in the form of my wisdom, but the church has barred me from casting healing spells, preferring to use my green magic for other..less savory purposes.”

the temple knight was at a loss for what to do, and it was clear to garland that he was expecting a healer of the church.

“I have been long away from the city.” garland explained. “two decades, in fact. My memory is abominable and I seem to have forgotten much, if you would kindly direct me to where I might fetch for you a proper healer, I will be of service in that capacity my son.”

the temple knight brightened at this, and with a bow gave garland directions to the white district, an area of buildings comprised entirely of white stonework. This was where most healers were trained, and after a moment he nodded “ah yes, I remember now. Thank you my son, I fear I am not the most competent of pastors, hence why I was asked to work outside the city, but I shall see to it that healers are brought to you. I shall return shortly.”

despite his reservations on the matter, garland decided that if he was to impersonate the clergy, he might as well own the role, and when he finally made his way to the white district, he wasn't disappointed by the sight.

The white district spread unfettered by the presence of trees, for a good three miles, white buildings and towers of white and gold spread for a considerable distance, light magic was all over the district, finding the healers guild wasn't so difficult, when he entered he immediately asked if there were any pastors free to aid him.

Two volunteered, and he explained the situation to them complete with the lie that he was unable to be a proper healer, and thus served the church in other capacities. He introduced himself as father Xande, and explained that a guard needed the services of healers right away.

Upon returning to what he later learned was known as the “Primus” district, the guard escorted the two healers into a nearby building.

Following after them garland beheld a truly horrific sight.

An elf lay in bed, his skin had gone pitch black and his extremities seemed to be turning into shadows, he tried to figure out what the illness was by listening to the healers as they discussed the disease with growing concern.

“Shadowblight.” one said, shaking his head. “He will need to be burned.”

“can you do nothing?!” the guard asked.

“it's a fatal illness, only one whose heart is not aligned fully with our lord mateus can hope to mitigate the disease. It would take a soul of true generosity, who did not mind risking his own life, to even hold the disease. If he was not resistant to it, he would also be consumed by it and become contagious.

“Perhaps...” garland began. “I might be of service after all.”

the two blinked as they turned to face him their expressions incredulous. “father, what are you saying? You are aligned with the lord, are you not?”

“there is a reason my capacity for healing arts is stunted.” garland explained as he moved to the elf. “I am not truly aligned with mateus. It is ever my curse to question all things, including the gods. Mark me my brethren, I am cursed with a mind that must always scrutinize, must always question..must always….”

“doubt.” came the accusing reply from one of the healers.

“for this, my capacity for healing arts is bare, if not altogether nonexistent. My understanding of the arcane is also sorely limited. I was asked to work outside the city for this very reason, my questions are...not welcome in the order of light. I ask things many would consider blasphemous. I was recalled when I deemed it necessary to keep my mouth shut. However, though I am a pastor of the luminaire faith, it is a title only, a way to keep this foolish thinker from perhaps spreading information or views that could potentially do great harm to the order. In other words, I am kept on a leash, out of respect for my insightfulness, and the potential a stray word can have to cause..inconvenience to the order.”

“if your heart is not truly aligned with mateus...perhaps you can...take the shadowblight?” one healer mused.

“I could, my will may be aligned with god, but my heart still doubts. A heart that beats with doubt makes a marvelous nest for the shadows, i've found. And eventually my heart will be swayed by the lord, I am sure of it, when that time comes, the blight will be erased from my body.”

“and what if you don't? What if it consumes you?”

“then I discreetly abandon the city and live in isolation, where I will be consumed alone, without running the risk of spreading the disease.” garland replied calmly, and after a moment, the healers came to a consensus and gestured to the ill elf.

“Please father, we're aware that this is unorthodox, but we shall be grateful for your sacrifice.”

“I am all too happy to make it my sons!” garland replied, moving over to the elf.

“Just imagine there's a funnel in your hands, sucking out the shadows.” one healer explained, and garland did precisely that.

He'd learned that the key to controlling magic and manipulating magical fields was too visualize, and have faith that the vision would connect to the real.

To his amazement, the dark pall began to leave the elf, his extremities began to materialize, as if they'd always been there.

Within mere minutes, garland had effectively taken the darkness from the elf into himself, and upon looking himself over, he admitted that he didn't feel any different.

Turning to the elven healers they stepped back in shock, shaking their heads, clearly confused.

“not even the stain of shadow blights you!!” one said in amazement.

“do not mistake this for a blessing.” garland warned as he looked himself over. “Be grateful that men of doubt such as myself exist to fulfill such ends, but do not presume that you should join our ranks. I have little doubt in my mind that had anyone else attempted this, they would have been consumed. Do not be impressed by what I did, look upon it with a grim understanding that my actions today are a result of my flaws as a pastor of the faith. Convenient, true, but flaws they yet remain.”
he bowed.

The guard rushed to the elf's side. “Brother!! it'll be alright!! you've been cured!! thank you father xande!! thank you for everything!!' he cried.

“it was a trifle. No doubt once word of this spreads, I will be made into a pariah. Perhaps I should consider leaving the city, even though I was recalled? I would hate to stir trouble...”

“No!! it's...more than fine!! we of the luminaire faith believe that the flaws of men are part of what makes them beautiful, surely you remember that, yes?” one of the healers cried out, appalled by the idea that he would be made a pariah for such a kind act.

It was then garland realized something.

Elves were decidedly different from humans, in that they were not overly mistrusting of one another, even now the healers and the guard blessed him and thanked him from the bottom of their hearts. Garland left the building and made for the temple, feeling very much conflicted by this.

Had they been humans, doubt and suspicion would surely have ruled them, turning their responses into fear and disdain, instead they were praising him.

He shuddered at the idea that he was worthy of praise at all, given his deception, and of course, if too much attention was brought to the “dark priest xande” no doubt his cover would be blown and he would be jailed, or worse, sacrificed to mateus.

He needed to hurry, before word of his good deed spread too far.