Just rewards, Part II
The spirit shook the ichor off the axe and shook his head at the carnage before him. The pile of limbs, torsos, heads, and other bits slowly dissolved into a smokey miasma.
"I swear, it gets worse every year. One of these days, I'll have words with Dis about what's going on in this place."
Father Fulgino, in spite of his best efforts, found himself stepping closer to the spirit and the shade of Father Tedesco.
"The wicked gather their strength because they sense that there is righteousness in this place."
"If that's the case," said the spirit, "then maybe you should leave the care of the deceased to me. It used to be you'd see maybe one of these things, now, look! There must have been eight or nine of them!"
"Then that shows that they fear the righteous!"
"Gentlemen...", said the shade of Father Tedesco, "as interesting as all this, is, I'd like to get a move on."
"Sure Father," said the spirit, "I'll... we'll make sure you get there. Nothing's going to stop us."
They proceeded further into the caverns, the worn pathway pointing in the right direction.
*****
The spirit looked at the looming presence before him, and did his best not to show any fear. This, this was a first.
The thing before them looked like a badly put together mockery of the human form. Bones protruded, muscles and sinew were exposed, and its features were dominated by a mouth filled with protruding fangs.
"I have no quarrel with you, Old One," it said to him. "But I want those, especially the light bearer. I will have them."
Father Fulgino raised the torch higher, and held the cross in front of him, "Begone damned spirit!"
It snorted contemptuously, and stepped forward. The spirit of Portus Querques raised his axe, "I told you once, they're with me, and they're not yours. Go back to whatever pit you crawled out of, malum, or I'll send you back in pieces."
With a snarl, it charged him and swung a clawed arm at him. He brought the haft of the axe up and blocked, and rocked, but did not fall to his knees from the blow. He shifted his hands and swung the haft into the things side where it hit with a satisfying crunch. He pivoted the axe, and punched at the thing with the spike mounted on the top of the haft. He missed with the spike, but still managed to connect with top of the blade, and shoved the thing back.
It began to warily circle him. "I see fewer and fewer of your sort," it said. "Most just give up, but you... you fight. I think I shall take you back with me as well." It snarled and charged in again, swinging one arm for his legs and the other at his head.
The spirit jumped over the arm coming for his legs, and blocked the overhand swing again, this time rolling with the blow. He bounded to his feet, brought his grip further down the shaft and with a cry of rage swung with all his might.
The thing leapt back, but not far enough and with a meaty thunk the axe blade cleaved it nearly in two. It gurgled as ichor poured from the wound and its mouth, and it looked up in surprise at the spirit. "You win... today, but I shall eventually return." It collapsed, and it too began to dissolve into a foul smelling miasma.
"Come on, let's get moving before something else comes at us." The shade and the priest just nodded, and followed along quickly behind him.
They stepped from the cavern entrance, into a much larger chamber that glowed with a softer, clean light. Before them was a river, dark and slowly flowing, and boat pulled upon the shore.
"Charon," said the spirit, "I have a passenger for you."
The boatman looked at him, and then at the priest and the shade. His voice was a soft whisper, but still clear. "No... this one goes elsewhere, and that one... his time has not come."
"If it's payment you need, I have an aurus or three for you."
"No, as I said, his voyage is not with me." Charon drew a line in the sand with his pole. "His way is through here." Over the line, an arch of light formed, to bright to see more than vague shadows through. "His way is this way." Charon looked at the shade, "Step through, that is the way to your reward, where you will be judged by yours. The journey of your people, is no longer our journey."
The shade of Father Tedesco nodded, and he placed a companionable hand on the arm of the lapis manilis. "Thank you for guarding, and guiding me. Perhaps someday, we may be meet again. If not, well... I hope that will always remember the good you have done in the world, and don't give in to despair. As for you," he said turning to Father Fulgino, "remember that good can be found in everyone, and focus on that." He stepped through the arch of light, and it shimmered and disappeared.
"It is time for both of you to leave this realm," said Charon. He took the coin from the spirit, "I'll take that as a down payment for future services. He swung the pole in front of him, and said "Begone!" and the spirit and Father Fulgino found themselves back in the sepulcher. Only ashes remained where Father Tedesco's body had rested.
Fulgino looked at the spirit, and shook his head. "I know I owe you my life this night, but you... and what you stand for, you are the cause of the mischief we endured."
"What!," said the spirit, "You ungrateful..."
"Hear me out," said Fulgino. "Charon himself said it. Your insistence on taking Father Tedesco to the other side is what brought the malum. The new ways are not your ways, your ways are gone. If the Father had been allowed to rest in piece, he would have only have had to step into the Kingdom of Heaven and been greeted by Saint Peter. Your insistence placed his soul in danger from the malum we encountered. I know now that you are not a malum yourself, but you, you draw them when you guide one of us over. For the good of the souls of the people of this town, I cannot allow you to continue to do this. Admit this to yourself; you are the danger here, you are the one who bring them eternal grief and pain. Do one last service to this town, and let these souls live in peace."
The light from the sunrise reflected off the blue Adriatic into the sepulcher as the spirit shifted and sat heavily on stone. "Consider my words spirit, consider them well. I am not sure we shall meet again." Fulgino left the sepulcher, and made his way down the hill. The spirit watched him go, and did not know what to think, as the hours turned to days, and the days to months, and the months to years as he sat alone, with only the light of the sun and moon to keep him company.
"I swear, it gets worse every year. One of these days, I'll have words with Dis about what's going on in this place."
Father Fulgino, in spite of his best efforts, found himself stepping closer to the spirit and the shade of Father Tedesco.
"The wicked gather their strength because they sense that there is righteousness in this place."
"If that's the case," said the spirit, "then maybe you should leave the care of the deceased to me. It used to be you'd see maybe one of these things, now, look! There must have been eight or nine of them!"
"Then that shows that they fear the righteous!"
"Gentlemen...", said the shade of Father Tedesco, "as interesting as all this, is, I'd like to get a move on."
"Sure Father," said the spirit, "I'll... we'll make sure you get there. Nothing's going to stop us."
They proceeded further into the caverns, the worn pathway pointing in the right direction.
*****
The spirit looked at the looming presence before him, and did his best not to show any fear. This, this was a first.
The thing before them looked like a badly put together mockery of the human form. Bones protruded, muscles and sinew were exposed, and its features were dominated by a mouth filled with protruding fangs.
"I have no quarrel with you, Old One," it said to him. "But I want those, especially the light bearer. I will have them."
Father Fulgino raised the torch higher, and held the cross in front of him, "Begone damned spirit!"
It snorted contemptuously, and stepped forward. The spirit of Portus Querques raised his axe, "I told you once, they're with me, and they're not yours. Go back to whatever pit you crawled out of, malum, or I'll send you back in pieces."
With a snarl, it charged him and swung a clawed arm at him. He brought the haft of the axe up and blocked, and rocked, but did not fall to his knees from the blow. He shifted his hands and swung the haft into the things side where it hit with a satisfying crunch. He pivoted the axe, and punched at the thing with the spike mounted on the top of the haft. He missed with the spike, but still managed to connect with top of the blade, and shoved the thing back.
It began to warily circle him. "I see fewer and fewer of your sort," it said. "Most just give up, but you... you fight. I think I shall take you back with me as well." It snarled and charged in again, swinging one arm for his legs and the other at his head.
The spirit jumped over the arm coming for his legs, and blocked the overhand swing again, this time rolling with the blow. He bounded to his feet, brought his grip further down the shaft and with a cry of rage swung with all his might.
The thing leapt back, but not far enough and with a meaty thunk the axe blade cleaved it nearly in two. It gurgled as ichor poured from the wound and its mouth, and it looked up in surprise at the spirit. "You win... today, but I shall eventually return." It collapsed, and it too began to dissolve into a foul smelling miasma.
"Come on, let's get moving before something else comes at us." The shade and the priest just nodded, and followed along quickly behind him.
They stepped from the cavern entrance, into a much larger chamber that glowed with a softer, clean light. Before them was a river, dark and slowly flowing, and boat pulled upon the shore.
"Charon," said the spirit, "I have a passenger for you."
The boatman looked at him, and then at the priest and the shade. His voice was a soft whisper, but still clear. "No... this one goes elsewhere, and that one... his time has not come."
"If it's payment you need, I have an aurus or three for you."
"No, as I said, his voyage is not with me." Charon drew a line in the sand with his pole. "His way is through here." Over the line, an arch of light formed, to bright to see more than vague shadows through. "His way is this way." Charon looked at the shade, "Step through, that is the way to your reward, where you will be judged by yours. The journey of your people, is no longer our journey."
The shade of Father Tedesco nodded, and he placed a companionable hand on the arm of the lapis manilis. "Thank you for guarding, and guiding me. Perhaps someday, we may be meet again. If not, well... I hope that will always remember the good you have done in the world, and don't give in to despair. As for you," he said turning to Father Fulgino, "remember that good can be found in everyone, and focus on that." He stepped through the arch of light, and it shimmered and disappeared.
"It is time for both of you to leave this realm," said Charon. He took the coin from the spirit, "I'll take that as a down payment for future services. He swung the pole in front of him, and said "Begone!" and the spirit and Father Fulgino found themselves back in the sepulcher. Only ashes remained where Father Tedesco's body had rested.
Fulgino looked at the spirit, and shook his head. "I know I owe you my life this night, but you... and what you stand for, you are the cause of the mischief we endured."
"What!," said the spirit, "You ungrateful..."
"Hear me out," said Fulgino. "Charon himself said it. Your insistence on taking Father Tedesco to the other side is what brought the malum. The new ways are not your ways, your ways are gone. If the Father had been allowed to rest in piece, he would have only have had to step into the Kingdom of Heaven and been greeted by Saint Peter. Your insistence placed his soul in danger from the malum we encountered. I know now that you are not a malum yourself, but you, you draw them when you guide one of us over. For the good of the souls of the people of this town, I cannot allow you to continue to do this. Admit this to yourself; you are the danger here, you are the one who bring them eternal grief and pain. Do one last service to this town, and let these souls live in peace."
The light from the sunrise reflected off the blue Adriatic into the sepulcher as the spirit shifted and sat heavily on stone. "Consider my words spirit, consider them well. I am not sure we shall meet again." Fulgino left the sepulcher, and made his way down the hill. The spirit watched him go, and did not know what to think, as the hours turned to days, and the days to months, and the months to years as he sat alone, with only the light of the sun and moon to keep him company.