CHAPTER THREE

FIRE AND FORGIVENESS

Praise be Aion! For he is the one who shall cleanse the corruption away from these wretched lands. Too long have we strayed from the path of purity, indulging ourselves in our hubris, for far too long we have been lost. Follow the light, for the light shows us the way. Aion is the light, Aion is the way.

In the distance, a town on the river. The imposing tall bald dark-skinned man crouches as he takes some water in his hand. The water is clean; taking a sip, the water reflects his dignified visage and a burned patch of skin where his beard would be. Rejuvenating himself he makes way forth to the small town of Misletonn.

Beauty in simplicity. Houses made of white brick as vines of plants embrace them as lovers intertwined lovers. They make for a soothing sight. The cheery townsfolk go about in the mundane bliss. Who wouldn't while surrounded by such calm? Beautiful. Like the river, the town does not falter. Pink petals dance through the air. It is the time of the season for Yos trees to blossom. Carried through the air they dance, soaring high above, coloring the sky; until they, on the icy stone pavement fall.

Through the streets, the sounds of chatter and laughter echo amid the merging colors.

The man walks to a nearby fruit stand; browsing through all the unique choices.

“What can I get you?” a common youthful peasant girl at the stand asks.

She is young, but not too young. Almost a woman, one could say. Almost.

“One apple,” the man says.

“Are you new to the city? Have you come to see the Yos trees blossom? What is your name? Where are you from? How long will you stay...” the too-curious girl continues bombarding with questions one after another.

“My name is Shaphas. I will cleanse this town from evil,” Shaphas says.

“Evil? What evil?” the girl asks, slightly confused at his statement.

“The evil of men,” Shaphas says as he gives a coin for the apple.

“What is the evil of men?” the girl asks, intrigued.

“Where there are men, there is evil. Where there is evil we must look for salvation. And there is only one way for us to find salvation,” Shaphas adds as he takes a big bite of the apple.

“How so?” the girl curiously asks, slightly tilting her head.

“Simple. We follow the path of Aion. Aion shows us the way. Aion is the way,” Shaphas says with a gigantic smile surrounded by burned skin.

“Who is this Aion fellow?” the girl asks.

“Aion is God. The one who created the world through fire. The one who saved men through fire and the one who shows us the way... through the fire,” Shaphas explains.

“He did all that? He sounds busy,” the girl comments.

“Ha-ha. He is very busy,” Shaphas says.

“Where will you find this evil?” the girl asks.

“Where the tongues of men are the loosest,” Shaphas says as he bids farewell to the simple fruit seller.

***

The day passes as Shaphas spends it walking through the streets and passing the word of Aion to all who would listen; few do.

The Sun goes to sleep as the Moon takes its place.

A perfect time to go to the place where tongues are loose.

Arriving at the local tavern, he takes a glance around. Searching carefully for those that look different, those that look... rough.

No matter where you go, there will always be folks like that; years of experience have taught him so. Those years have proved correct as he notices two men dressed in black with hidden weapons. Not hidden well enough to fool Shaphas’es keen eyes.

“Might I join you, gentlemen?” Shaphas asks as he approaches them.

“No,” one man responds without reservation. He turns around continuing his conversation with an ale in hand.

Shaphas sits down without a moment of thought as the two men look at each other with confusion.

“I said...” the annoyed man speaks as he gets cut off.

“This is a beautiful town. Too bad it has corruption in it,” Shaphas says as the two men look at each other again.

“Corruption?” the other man asks. Their eyes betray their curiosity.

“Indeed. I have investigated this town and have found it wanting,” Shaphas says.

“What in the blazes are you mumbling about?” the other man asks.

“There is evil in this town and I know what it is. But fear not my good fellows. I shall report this to my Order, and soon they will send a group of armed soldiers to pluck the weeds of corruption. Praise Aion,” Shaphas says as he laughs, loudly. Enough to draw the attention of the nearby patrons.

“You don’t say?” the man remarks.

“Today I sleep and tomorrow I make my journey,” Shaphas says as he stands laughing. He makes way to a room upstairs. Leaving the intrigued eyes prying over him.

The night deepens and with it, silence turns louder. In one room of the tavern, Shaphas sleeps but not on the bed; he sleeps on the floor. No blankets, no pillows only himself and the hard wood.

Comfort is not the way of Aion, for comfort breeds evil.

While the town sleeps two shadowy figures creep into the tavern. Creeping towards the room where Shaphas rests. They open the door, silently. As the door opens, it reveals two cloaked figures holding daggers. Seeing the man on the floor, they stop for a bit. Not the most common sight one could say; especially considering there is a perfectly fine bed nearby. Strange, they think.

The gentle moonlight reflects from the icy steel. They stand near Shaphas. Very near.

Nodding to each other, one of the shadowy figures slowly reduces distance, going in for the kill. The dagger approaches Shaphas’es throat as suddenly he opens his eyes, revealing a huge grin on his face. Before the man can react, a mace hits him in the head. Bloodying his face and breaking bones.

Surely it did, for the cracking of the skull is loud. Much louder than one would expect. The other man freezes for a moment in the presence of the towering man looming over him. Different from the one he saw before; almost as if a different person. The smiling almost harmless priest now stands as a wild beast with murder in his eyes.

“Luck! How can I have so much luck?” Shaphas says with an ear-to-ear smile as tears flow through his eyes.

“What?” the shadowy figure blurts out in confusion.

“I have searched for many nights and through many towns. I have failed for all those nights and in all those towns. But not this time. This time I have found evil,” Shaphas says, shaking with joy.

“Wait! Did you make all that up? You lied to us?” the man asks, bewildered.

“I did. Now it matters not. For if you want to kill me, it means I have found evil. The only question that remains is what is this evil?” Shaphas says as he moves closer to the scared man.

“But you lied! You lied! I know priests of Aion are forbidden to lie. But you lied!” the man yells.

“Nonsense. Those are beliefs that the old Order holds. I am a part of Aion’s New Order,” Shaphas says.

“What New Order? There is only one Order,” the man asks as his legs betray him. Wobbling uncontrollably.

“The Order of I,” Shaphas says, closing the distance between them. Staring him face to face.

“You are insane,” the shadowy man says as he raises the dagger in defense. Shaphas swiftly knocks the dagger away by smashing the man's hand with his face; breaking it. Surely it did for the crackling of the bone is loud.

“It is time for you to answer some questions,” Shaphas says as he grins towering over the man screaming in agony.

Somewhere outside of the town, Shaphas walks with a tied and bloody man. Broken nose, a purple eye, and teeth missing.

“Here. Up these stairs... up these stairs is an abandoned temple. The people from my guild are here,” the man struggles to say. Drool and blood pour from his mangled face.

“The place of evil,” Shaphas says joyfully, looking up the stairs.

“I told you everything and led you here. Now, let me go. You’ve said you would let me go, you’ve said you would forgive me,” the man pleads.

“In the name of Aion, I bestow forgiveness,” Shaphas says as he makes a sign of an upside-down mirrored seven.

“Good. Well, cut me loose already,” the man says. Hope shines in his eyes.

“Not yet. There is still one more matter to attend to,” Shaphas adds.

“W-w-what?” the man asks, trembling.

“Fire,” Shaphas says menacingly.

“Fire?” the man asks.

“Those who receive forgiveness must be cleansed in the fire. This is the only way to join Aion’s side,” Shaphas says as he closes the distance to the bloodied man. Staring him in the eyes.

“W-W-W-What are you talking about? I may not know much, but I know the priests of Aion do nothing such as this,” the man says as his knees falter.

“I have explained this to you already. There is the way of the old Order and there is the way of new Order,” Shaphas says as he takes out a bottle of liquid and pours it on the man.

“What are you doing?” the man asks, drenched in this strange liquid.

“Fire and forgiveness,” Shaphas says as he throws another liquid unto the man. As the second liquid combines with the first- a blue flame bursts.

The man screams in agony as he tries to roll on the ground to quench the consuming fire; it does not work. Slowly he burns in the blue flame, wanting to die but being unable. The pain intensifies, as do the screams until- death.

Shaphas makes a sign of an upside-down mirrored seven.

“Fire and forgiveness,” Shaphas says.

He walks up the stairs. From the distance, they can see it. From the distance, they can hear it. They can see a blue flame rising from the abandoned temple and hear screams.

Fire and forgiveness for all who go against the way of Aion.

Fire and forgiveness.