A New Voice

It's been years since she lays dormant.
Some whisper in the Temple that she has lost His voice.
All wonder what is she dreaming about.

“It is this my judgment, as Senior Scrutator in this trial, that you – Priest Garret Mosley – shall be burned at the stake for crimes against Menoth, insurrection against the Hierarchy, and betrayal against the Protectorate”. Not long after that, the pyre was lit and Mosley's body was consumed in the holy flames of Menoth. Following my duties as personal servant to the Senior Scrutator, I burned all of Priest Mosley's possessions, including a little leather bound diary that draw my attention, pages handwritten and already mostly burned.

Today I woke up in my bed, one among hundreds that exist in the Monastery's dorm room: a giant hall where the low clergy live in commune among each other, sharing every bit of space and resources to follow His will and His Law. Still half-sleep, I felt something under my pillow; searching for it I touched something made of leather. Could it be the diary? But I saw it burn at the pyre. It couldn't be. But it was, as I pulled it under my bed I saw it was in the exact same condition as when I threw it to the flames, a couple of week now. It seemed mysterious, like it was trying to keep a secret from escaping. I was sure – as my duty as personal servant to the Senior Scrutator demands – that I incinerated it right along with the body of Priest Mosley himself. Maybe I forgot to. Maybe I misplaced it or saved it for a more “definite” disposal. Now I'm confused and don't remember well. The trial was long and tense, as no one really knew why Mosley was judged for; the Senior Scrutator talked about great crimes against His will, but somehow the doubt stood in my mind.

While I was thinking of this, and how to explain the Senior Scrutator of my fault to my duties as his personal servant and one of His faithful children, my finger untied the straps and began leafing through the records of the now deceased Priest, as if they had life of their own ...

“Imer, Luctine 3rd, Cinotes, 639 A.R.

I dreamed of her again. She was levitated by His will, and with fire in her eyes he fought bravely against Morrowan heretics, Khadoran invaders and Cryxian abominations. Among these hordes of enemies, a little kid stands before her. She protects the kid from the growing army of enemies, keeping him from being snatched by the hands of her enemies. A new horde arrives, but this one bears white, red and gold: The Protectorate's colors. Seeing this, her will falters and His voice is suddenly silenced. Powerless, feeling the scorched earth below her, and hearing the steps of her enemies closing in, she turns to the boy, how innocently looks at the surrounding mob. She is terrified, she is desperate, she is choking as the black shadows of her enemies overcome her.

The kid again, who is this kid? I must know. I shall see her at all cost as I feel I'm losing my mind dreaming of her”

It has been a couple of days after I found the diary. I keep it with me at all times. I know that every day I keep it without informing the Senior Scrutator is betraying my sacred duties and, worse still, His will. But I need to know, I need to understand why he was judged and executed. I have little time to read, living in commune with the rest of the clergy makes hiding the diary difficult and reading it impossible...

“Imer, Vilmon 1st, Golovus, 693 A.R.

I'm leaving Imer today. After asking for some favors and posing as one of her caretakers, I managed to talk to her privately for a couple of minutes. She's weak and mute, a sad view of the great Harbringer of Menoth who bravely defended the Protectorate of Menoth by channeling His will through her weak body. She has been dreaming since her last battle during the Great Wartime, her caretakers say that she sometimes mumbles about someone coming to Imer, of another voice, of a chorus; but nothing else, as she keeps slumbering for years now.

I thought I was really mad at that moment: a lowly priest with weird dreams addressing the great Harbringer, who has been sleeping for the past 30 years or so. But I had to ask, so I whispered to her on the ear: “Who is the boy?”

What happened next I don't even know if it should even be transcribed to this diary, but as I can't tell anyone else, I'm trusting this little book to be my witness in the journey I'm about to start. After whispering to her, her body started glowing and she levitated from her bed. Light came out of the blindfold and she turned her face to me, ripped the blindfold from her face and for the first time in decades, she set her gaze upon another human being.

Engulfing me in light, I don't really know if words came out of her mouth, or if she imprinted her message directly in my mind; but then I knew that I had to leave Imer, find the boy and bring it to her. “Find the Voice”, she said; and then she fell back to her bed, calling the attention of all the caretakers. Before I escaped, I saw her body again – limp and lifeless – a sad view indeed.”

It's been almost two weeks. I think someone saw me reading it last night. I don't know if the Senior Scrutator already knows, I must talk to him immediately before anyone else tells on me. I'm so close to knowing, maybe a couple of days more, some more pages, and then I'll give it to him...

“Orven, 2nd, Prautes, 640 A.R.

I've been on the road for some months now, out of the Protectorate and into the lands of the Morrowans. Is not easy for a Priest of Menoth to navigate these lands as the wounds of the Great Wartime are still open; but thanks to His will I've been able to secure my passage thanks to local Menites and sympathizers. When they ask me the reason of my travel I ask them about a boy who speaks the voice of Menoth, but they know nothing about it. I'll keep visiting Menite churches in these lands to see if something comes up.

May His will guide me.”

This morning the diary was gone, only its last pages remained. I am very afraid, someone took it and I don't know who was. Have it been taken to the Senior Scrutator? or someone worse? Where is it? I was left with only a few pages I haven't read yet. I attended all my duties today, hoping whoever took it still haven't talked to the Senior Scrutator, I must find who did it, so I can have it back. I tried to be calm and relaxed, but I think he knows, he even asked me to bring his official cloth today for no reason at all. The clergy watch me suspiciously now. Maybe its too late, maybe he knows and I'm just waiting for my sentence. Maybe all I have left of life are these pages...

“Tarna, Ozeall 7st, Khadovus, 641 A.R.

It's been a long trip. I've known Morrowan, Menite and followers of many beliefs never heard on Imer. Amidst the chaos left from the Great Wartime, all work together to fend off warbands and bandits that prey on what's left of industry, agriculture and family. Now I don't understand all the hate and disdain we are taught to repeat over and over by clergy, as if that was His will upon men. But still, among this un-civilization, I've seen religion work its real magic: bring comfort to families as they lose children and father to war, unite them in overcoming hunger and exhaustion, and giving them faith for a better tomorrow. I've had to deny gifts from these families, as I see that they are giving me their last clump of bread, their only clothes, or their last horse. Is reallly Menoth's will to make war against our brothers? Now I doubt it. Not really doubting Him, but those who represent Him on Caen.

I finally have a tip. I overheard a couple of mercenaries talking about how the were hired by someone to “silence” a group of Menites that march from Merin towards Sul. Following them closer I saw who hired them: a Menite Scrutator! How did he manage to travel this far to hire mercenaries? I don't know, but I did hear that their principal target is the boy who leads the march. Could it be him the boy I'm looking for?”

I can't stand it anymore. I must tell him. People look suspiciously at me, I've been relieved of most of my duties and I feel that I'm being watched all the time. Just a couple of pages left, and then I'll tell him...

“Somewhere near Olgunholdt, 5th, Ashtovus, 641 A.R.

I've been captured.
They haven't searched me yet, but I know that this would be my last entry.

I followed the mercenary company towards Merin. A small group of swordmen, thieves, a couple of scouts, and a big leader wielding the biggest Battle Axe I've ever seen. They traveled in two carriages, pulled by two heavy steamjacks. I traveled light and fast, trying to encounter the marching group before them, so I can find the boy and alert them of the danger to come.

After two days of walking in the woods, I finally saw a light in the woods. Just like the one the Harbringer engulfed me into; I followed it, hoping it could lead me towards the boy. After a day of walking I reached the Menite's camp. I approached carefully, trying to spot the boy. I saw him being carried into a tent, at the center of the camp; while the rest of its followers had tents around him. I saw no weapons or jacks, just a group of followers being led by a little boy into an unusual march to Sul.

As I approached the camp, I hear two shots behind me. I turned to see the mercenary scouts pointing their guns to me, while the rest of the company charged into the camp. “Thanks for guiding us”, one of the scouts said smiling, as he hit me with the butt of its rifle, knocking me to the floor.

When I woke up, splitting headache and all, I was tied to a post in the center of the Menite camp. No less than a hundred dead corpses filled the once-alive camp, only mercenaries walked the premises making sure no survivors remained. Besides me, also tied to posts, where the little boy and someone I didn’t know, but recognized as the caretaker of the child. The leader of the mercenaries talked about the big bounty they’d get from delivering these three traitors to the Protectorate Scrutators, and thus I waited for at least three days on tied to the pole, while the mercenaries waited for the Scrutators to arrive.

During these three days the boy’s caretaker tried to bribe, intimidate and curse the mercenaries. The boy did not talk. I was questioned again and again, until I told them the whole story of my trip.

On the end of the third day, the Scrutators arrived.

There where three, one immediately stabbed the child’s caretaker on the abdomen saying to him ‘You’ve run from us too many times, now die”. The other two started to pray, making the nearby corpses glow as if their still-trapped souls started to depart from their bodies. Then the kid, this almost-dead kid who had been tied to a post the last three days, lifted himself from the ground and looked defiantly to the praying Scrutators.

The kid started to glow, and in the moment the souls of the dead marchers started to leave their bodies the kid opened his mouth. But no sound came out.

‘Leave these souls alone’ was the unspoken message of the child, as points of light emerged from each of the corpses and floated around him. The praying Scrutators prayed with even more fervor, but collapsed shortly, crying on their knees and begging for mercy, as they obviously had heard something the kid didn’t say, but they just knew. The third Scrutator tried to grab the child and stab him, but each of the soul-lights attacked him and burned and scarred him horrendously. Lying on the floor, the Scrutator begged for death for eternal seconds.

The kid then closed his mouth, closed his eyes, and the hundred-lights cloud hovered around him. Seconds after that, the kid was gone and the lights faded in the night. Leaving me alone, along with the praying, half-mad Scrutators, and the remaining mercenaries who where too stunned to run into the forest screaming.

Now I’m in a caravan travelling back to Sul. I’ve been charged with infinite treason charges; I just beg for the mercy of death as I know Menoth is on my side.

His will be done”

Now I’m at the stake, but I’m at peace. The pages disappeared the moment I finished reading them. The next morning copies of the book appeared under the pillow of at least ten of my dorm companions. When asked what happened, I publicly confessed, making sure everyone heard my story. Its fine, I know now that the book will be read, and the gates will open by the time the kid – the new voice of Menoth – reaches Sul.