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The Priest – Final Chapter

After Warden Fraybee expelled the heretic from her home, he had gone straight to the tavern and spewed his lies there. By Fraybee’s count eight villagers had left town with him to join a cult worshipping Mariglio Vexor as a god. Vexor was a heroic mage and a great friend of King Bronner. Surely the heretic was worshipping Vexor without his knowledge. He wouldn’t be so foolish to pretend to godhood.
Fraybee now approached an ancient low wall of stone and mortar. The grass about it was high and trees had grown all about it. The wall marked the perimeter of the ancient cathedral ground which was her destination. From what she had gathered from the barkeep, this had to be the destination of the heretic and his recruits.
The Warden climbed over a break in the wall and continued until the great steeple, still intact after all the centuries, was visible through the treetops. The cathedral had been abandoned for as long as any could remember, and some scholars placed its origins in the time of the Titans. What were they doing here?
The cathedral’s stone steps and heavy iron doors now loomed out of the trees. One of the doors was ajar, open enough to walk through. The day was hot and Fraybee had walked far. Despite her fears of what she might find within those doors, she looked forward to being shaded by cool stone.
Though its glow was imperceptible in the sunlight Fraybee knew her amulet of Yeyviel was glowing softly where it hung against her brown priest’s robe. This recent phenomenon was a sign that the power of the gods was real, and she hoped it would be enough to sway the heretic’s recruits away from this path of blasphemy. Breathing deeply, she ascended the stair and passed into darkness.
The sudden transition from daylight to shadow left Fraybee temporarily blinded. As her eyes adapted she perceived the inside of the cathedral was large and open. High narrow windows let in slanting shafts of sunlight, but blackness cloaked most of the cathedral.
“Heretic!” Fraybee called into the dark. If he was here, he already knew the Warden had come, and Fraybee refused to be intimidated. “I told you last night I would show you the wrath of my god. Look now upon my holy symbol, for it is alive with divine light.” Indeed the amulet of Yeyviel seemed to glow more brightly than ever, and illuminated Fraybee’s immediate surroundings. She began to walk toward the altar at the cathedral’s end.
“So it is.” A sly voice came from the shadows ahead. “I do hope Yeyviel’s power is not limited to a glimmer that can be outshone by a candle, or you may be in real danger here, Warden.”
“I don’t fear you,” answered the Warden as she slowly walked forward. “And I don’t fear my fellow worshippers.”
“Fellow worshippers no longer. They have accepted the truth. The combined strength of the Paridian pantheon will be insufficient for the threat Fahrul now faces.”
“And Mariglio Vexor is stronger than all the gods? That is foolish.”
“But it is true, Warden.”
Now Fraybee had reached the foot of the altar. The heretic must be right before her.
Lifting the amulet of Yeyviel, Fraybee cast its light over a raised dais. Dimly she made out a row of figures standing before her. The central figure stepped forward into the light, revealing the heretic.
“I have startling new for you Warden,” the heretic hissed. “More startling than what I revealed to you last night. You will join our cause this day.”
“You are hopelessly deluded,” Fraybee seethed. “My life has been devoted to Yeyviel and the pantheon. My life, heretic! It was not a passing fancy I abandoned because my hopes and wishes remained unaddressed. To me this is not a path to power and influence; it is a way to access the vital truths of existence.” As she spoke, the amulet of Yeyviel began glowing brighter. She could see the face of the heretic who stood now beside the altar.
“Excellent, then you are a seeker of truth. You have come to the right place.”
“Enough!” the Warden shouted, and a flare of illumination came from her amulet. Before it subsided, she made out the grinning heretic, and behind him a row of seven villagers. Faces she knew, some since they were children, watching grimly. And on the altar… the mutilated body of Hark, a young man who worked a fishing boat in Oarton.
“Save us,” Fraybee whispered. “What have you done?”
“Ah yes,” the heretic lamented. “This one had to be culled. It was very unfortunate, but he was irresolute.”
“But…” She looked to the row of figures. “Wenda, this was your brother!”
From the shadows came Wenda’s stony reply. “He was irresolute.”
The heretic drew a dagger and stepped toward Fraybee. The dark figures behind him moved to follow. Fraybee abandoned her hopes of winning back the converts. She turned and began running to the iron doors.
She had almost reached the patch of light from the open doorway when an ominous figure stepped in front of it. Fraybee tried to halt, caught her foot on something, and fell heavily to the stone floor.
“Warden Fraybee.” His voice rumbled in the stones she lay upon. It was rich with intelligence and age. “I have long admired your scholarly works. You are perceptive and credulous. Your mind is unfettered by agenda. You seek only truth. Nowhere will you see the truth more clearly than with me. I want you to serve at my side, eternally.” The new holy symbol of the Tower shone brightly from around his neck, illuminating his face.
Fraybee looked up at him in horror. “It really is you,” she said. The heretic and his followers now stood around her, daggers out. Their leader stood still in the doorway, looming over all.
Warden Fraybee clutched her amulet of Yeyviel to her heart. Tears welled in her eyes. “I will die before I serve you.”
“Yes,” he replied. “That will be necessary.”
Fraybee closed her eyes as the blades went in.