Graveyard Harvester
A few scattered shafts of light managed to pierce the oppressive darkness. The rays filtered in through the broken panels of the chapel's stained glass windows. Dust lay in heavy blankets over the sparse wooden furnishings and cold stone floor. No breath, not even a dormouse's, had disturbed its sleep for decades. It was lost. Abandoned.
Upon a high altar covered in stiff sheets of formerly-white linen, a lonely cross stood guard over the ruins. Its decaying wood cast a dark, eerie shadow over the ground before it. The single clear pane of glass behind the relic allowed a small glint of light to enter the room, and it was from this window that the light causing the shadow came. The small amounts of light that happened to illuminate the chapel did nothing to improve its condition; they only highlighted the building's pitiful state.
Even in its glory days, the church could hardly have been called magnificent. It had no jewels adorning its furniture and no gilded candlesticks. The only one luxury afforded the place was its stained glass windows, but even these were of simple make. Still, the place had had a holy air about it and many had traveled great distances to sit in its pews. Then, the pilgrims stopped coming. No visitors came to the place, and the small town surrounding it died away. For a long while, a single curia looked after it, but he was old and eventually withered as the town had. The man's son had come, buried his father, and boarded up the doors.
Since that day, no man had ventured forth into the church. At first, it had appeared as quaint as always but disuse lay heavy on its shoulders and it began to show its age. The air inside grew heavy and a shroud formed around the building and its village. Even beasts avoided the area around it, scared to venture near the consecrated lands. Although once sanctified ground, the place began to take on an unwholesome air, as if some dark power struggled to gain possession.
Rumors came to the nearby towns that the chapel was possessed. Whence these rumors came, none knew, for no man had ventured near the old place. Still, the rumors came, and they spread like fire through dry brush.
Thus, the people of the towns spoke warily of the place and urged their young to never approach the deserted town or chapel, unless a greater danger was behind them. Even their men, weary from hunting great beasts in the woods came not to the old church though the heavens may be pouring their tears upon them and they were drenched to the bone. The men even told the tales to travelers who happened to pass into the towns, though normally they reserved the telling of tales to the gossiping old wives.
So it happened that Elessar heard the rumors of the old church. He had been staying in a small village not far from the ruins and stayed in the small, but homely inn. The master of the inn and his wife had greeted him with smiles and bade him come in and take a warm meal since the next town was far off and the night was drawing nigh.
"What brings you out here?" the innkeep asked the traveler. "Seldom do we get much company in our small part of the woods and most of mine and my wife's customers belong to the town or an outlying farm. But you appear to be a traveler." The innkeep gestured at Elessar's stained and dirty riding clothes.
"I am," answered Elessar. "Although what I am doing here, I do not rightly know. I am a wanderer as you so named me. But why I have come hence," and here Elessar shrugged as he spoke, "you know as well as I. I feel only that I have been drawn here for some reason."
"Well, whatever your purpose, you will find a nice bed and a warm meal here tonight. If you want to say naught of your journey, that is fine by me. I feel that you are an honest man and that's all that counts round about these parts. But let me bring you some ale and we may talk of tales and song if of your own tale you should wish to say no more."
Indeed, Elessar did not wish to say any more of his own story and was silent on that matter for the rest of the night. But song and tale were not lacking from either the traveler or the innkeep. For Elessar had already traveled many countries and knew tales of long off and the innkeep himself, though he got few customers, remembered the tales of those who had passed the night within his walls. Thus it was that neither noticed the gathering deepening of night until the candles grew dim and all was black outside.
"Time for some rest," the innkeep announced, noticing the time. "Sleep well, Master Elessar. I will see you again in the morning, I hope." He turned, picked up the candle, and went to show his guest the way to the rooms. Pausing, he looked at the man curiously. "Whatever it is that calls you, I hope it is not the old church in the ruined town of Minas near to here. That is an evil place now and none have ever come alive from within its walls, hence the old curia left. No man dares go near it and I would offer you the same advice if you value your health. But come, let me show you to your rooms and I shall not talk of dark tales any longer. Sleep well and be glad, during your stay here, for this is a safe town and the people are good. You have nothing to fear here, as you would in a bustling city, perhaps."
Elessar thanked the man for his hospitality and assured him he would sleep well. The tale of the chapel lingered long in his thoughts as he lay upon the mattress, however. As sleep overtook him, he felt more confident that it was indeed the old church that called to him - as many evil things did. Elessar tossed under the sheets, not knowing whether he ought to seek it out or not. At long last, weariness from his long day's journey grew stronger than his thoughts and he let sleep overtake him.
The next morning, Elessar woke to the sun shining on his face. Below he could hear the innkeep's wife bustling about with her daily duties. Rising and stretching, Elessar looked about him. The room seemed unnaturally bright and warm, like the sunniest day of the summer, and he smiled. For the morning, as he dined with the innkeep and a few other locals who had come in to talk with the couple, he forgot the dark thoughts of last night.
"Remarkably strange weather we are having," commented Baron, the local blacksmith. "Still, can't say that I am complaining. Not often do we get such a warm day this late into the fall."
"Not often indeed," muttered Elessar, his thoughts finally drifting back to the tale of last night. "I know now that I am indeed called, and something is urging me on. But whether this urging is for good or evil, I cannot say." Then, smiling politely to his breakfast companions, he rose from the table. "A fine day it is," he said aloud to them. "I think I should take advantage of such good weather and head out. Such days as these are meant for spending outdoors."
Thanking the innkeep's wife for breakfast, he returned to his room to gather his few belongings. Soon he was below again, and he pulled out his small purse of coins. Counting out the innkeep's fee, he bade him and his wife farewell. His pack he hauled upon his back again and he set off on his long road, knowing now that he would end up at the old church.
He asked for no directions, for he did not want to alarm the good folk who were kind to him during his stay. Also, he knew that if he truly were called, he needed no map but only to trust to his feet and they would bring him there.
Elessar soon found himself lost in the woods. He could not tell from which direction he had come nor the direction in which the town lay. Already the midday sun had waned away and the softer light of the evening shone upon him. He had hoped to come across somewhere he could rest for the night by now, for the wild beasts of the forest were dangerous to a man traveling alone. If he could not come upon shelter in the next few hours, he would be forced to make camp in the trees, climbing to the top of one of them to rest. Although his long travels had often forced him to make do with such a bed at night and he could stay in one if need be, he would have preferred a safe spot on the ground if he could not reach the next village. Just then, Elessar thought he spotted a clearing in the trees ahead of him. As he walked towards it, the light of the day faded abruptly, as if whatever power had been encouraging him with the day's warm weather had left him. It was only then that he noticed the utter stillness of the wilderness about him. No beast nor bird stirred and even the ground beneath his feet was silent.
He pushed through his uneasiness about the situation and came to the clearing. About him lay the broken thatches of what may have once been a town. He wandered about the barely recognizable streets covered in blankets of green grass. Then, his eye noticed a building standing a bit apart from the rest. Approaching it, he saw the deep reds and blues of its stained glass. The front door stood open as if inviting him in. At its feet, he could see the broken boards that had once nailed it shut. Elessar sighed. He would have liked to rest before he took on the challenge, but he could feel there would be no rest for him until he faced what was inside the chapel.
Mustering his courage, he strode forward through the open doors. His eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the sudden darkness for, even though the doors behind him were open, little light passed into the room. Taking a deep breath of the foul air, he spoke loudly.
"I am Elessar, son of Fairen, soldier of the goddess Elestrial. Once I wronged her and now I do her bidding to rectify my grievances against the fair lady. Evil and darkness I banish from this land until my debt has been paid."
Elessar stood silent, waiting for an answer and a challenge to his announcement, but none came.
"Evil that resides in this place, be gone," he shouted again. Reaching into his pack, he drew out a small vial of purified water. Slowly, he approached the altar with the vial before him, but also with one hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Fool," a hissing voice whispered, filling the chamber. "Fool to think you can cast me out of this place. More than holy water will be needed to uproot me from my dwelling. As for your goddess, she too is a fool if she sends the like of you against me."
Elessar heeded the words not, but continued to the altar, intending to cast the water upon it. The voice spoke again, louder, though he pretended he did not hear.
"Son of Fairen, tell me, what did you do to deserve such an end in my clutches? Your grievances must have been great indeed to be sent on such a perilous path," the voice continued, sweeter and more sickly this time.
Elessar paused in his ascent and answered.
"The house of Arian ever served the lady and we swore to honor her in all our deeds. Yet, in the reign of my father's father, we lost a great war to the fell beasts of Barandur and so our kingdom fell. Our lands were overrun and the chieftain of Barandur took them for his own. Our people suffered and no longer did they worship the lady. I have come to repay for our failure and reclaim my throne." Elessar took a pause and drew himself up to his full height. "Know then, foul thing, that you deal not with some wayward wanderer, but a prince who is on a mission to come into his own. I shall banish the evil from this land that is mine by right and so take my place again!"
He threw back his cloak and a radiant light shone out from him, piercing the darkness of even the deepest corners for a moment. Then, slowly, the light faded again and he looked to be no more than a simple ranger.
A harsh, echoing laugh flooded his ears.
"So, you think to rid me from this land? You have fought many a battle then, I can tell, to uproot evil. But you know not to whom you speak. The captain of Barandur was but a pawn of mine; if you and your king, with all the great hosts of your army could not send back my pawn, what do you think you can do now, one all alone? For I am Mathalais, FALL DOWN BEFORE ME."
His voice thundered through the chapel and willed Elessar down unto his knees. A sweat broke out on Elessar's face and he strove to withstand the power. His knees bent slightly and his clothes seemed they would drag him to the floor, so heavy they felt to him. Then, drawing upon some hidden reservoir of will, he forced himself erect again.
"I will not bend to you, nor any other dark servant. For even if I cannot be rid of you forever, I can, at least, cast you out of this land. Come stand before me, by the power of Elestrial."
Then he drew out from beneath his cloak a hidden dagger. A gasp seemed to fill the air about him. For the dagger, small and unadorned, was an artifact from the time before ages. It was the dagger that was used in the creation of the lands, a ceremony that required the blood of all the second gods and a single drop of Liwithin, the first goddess. It alone had the power to harm a god truly, for all other weapons were useless against them. As it had drawn blood the first time, so too could it take the lifeblood now.
Before Elessar's eyes, a mist appeared. It condensed until he found himself looking at the shape of a man upon the altar. Dark was his hair and fair his complexion, but from under his bushy eyebrows came the glint of inhumanly golden eyes. It was Mathalais, the god, come down himself. He could not resist the lure of the one dagger that would be the greatest weapon in his search for power, for with it, he could kill all the other gods and take all the lands for his own.
"The blade. Give me the blade," Mathalais said, reaching out his hand in a comforting gesture. "I can make it worth your while. All your lands and more I will return to you and you may set yourself up on the highest of thrones, such the like which has not been seen since the elder days. I will depart and trouble neither you nor your subjects. All I ask is that you give me the blade."
Elessar stood resolute. He assumed a defensive possession.
"I know well what this dagger is and I shall never hand it over."
A snarl came over the man's face and flakes of red came into his dangerous eyes.
"Fool. Then I shall take it from you by force," he said and drew his own blade, longer than the small dagger Elessar held in his hand.
Then, to his amazement, Elessar drew also his sword and kept the dagger in his left hand. Long he had to train in order to master the unbalanced style of fighting that few dared, but his lady had told him he would have need of the skill.
Mathalais spoke dark words, and Elessar could feel power circling about him as if to ensnare him in some trap. Then, abruptly, they were gone and he could feel no magic about him.
"Your words are empty," he announced to Mathalais. "Well, you should know this, as it is one of the properties of the dagger. Neither," he added as he noticed the man speaking again, "can you switch back into your other shape. For the time being, at least, you are trapped in the form you have chosen for this fight."
He bared his teeth at Elessar and the unexpectedly primal act caused him to step back a pace. Soon he stepped forward again, deficient. This was the fight he had been preparing for all of his manhood and most of his childhood. He knew he could not fail now. He gripped the dagger hard, his knuckles whitening from the effort. Then, as he crouched into a better defensive position, he relaxed and held the blade looser, yet firmly, in his hand. This was not the time for emotions, but for instinct. He trusted to the many long hours of practice with the best teachers he could find and his innate skill as the heir of the land. Not that he was going to let his mind leave entirely - he knew the god was clever and would seek to trap him if he could. Elessar was disturbed from his musings as Methialas jumped forward suddenly, eager to attack. Elessar brought his sword up to parry and rested his weight on his back foot, bracing against the force of the man. Yet, as a god, he had more than the strength of a normal man and Elessar had to use all of his own powers to counter it. He saw the twinkle in Methialas's eyes and knew he had better be quick on his feet and avoid a direct blow for as long as he could. Taking a quick sidestep to the left, Elessar pivoted on his foot to bring himself behind Methailas. His right arm, holding his sword raised for a strike, but the man had swung round, holding his own blade out to cause a circle of cutting steel.
Elessar dropped to a quick roll and rose again. Methailas was quick on his heels, rushing forward with his blade fully extended. Again, Elessar sidestepped, using the dagger to turn away the point of the blade and hitting the man with a quick thack against his chest. The sword, though angled perfectly for a near-fatal chest wound, did not break the flesh though Methailas wore only a thin robe. No blade except the dagger had the power to draw blood from a god. Still, the blow had knocked the wind out of Methailas and he staggered backward. In the twinkling of an eye, however, he jumped upon Elessar again. Stunned by the fury of the god's attacks, Elessary was pushed back against the wall, forced to give ground. His right and left arms wove into a fury, trying to keep the blade from piercing his flesh. So intent was he on staving off the sword that Elessar did not notice he had come already to the steps of the altar. He fell backward with a thump and he felt the sharp sting of pain as Methailas's sword caught his arm as he fell. The god hovered above him, gloating that he had the man trapped.
"Stupid human," he sneered and then laughed a hollow, creaking laugh. "I warned you, did I not? Soon you will go to meet the lady who you adore so much. Take her a message for me. I'll be coming for her soon, with that knife you dared raise against me."
Elessar felt the cold of the marble beneath him and his right arm began to grow numb from the loss of blood. He saw the silver flash of the blade as it came rushing towards his throat.
But the blade only met empty air. Methailas gasped and stepped backward in pain. Elessar, who had jumped up before the blade could reach him, now stood by his side and let his hand fall. The small, fairly unadorned dagger stuck out from Methailas's chest.
"Tell her yourself, if you get the chance," Elessar answered. "Though I do not know where a god goes to die. But leave my land forever."
Red blood seeped across the marble base of the altar and dripped down the steps upon which Elessar had tripped. The light inside the chapel grew dim and no sunlight broke through its windows. Elessar reached down and plucked the blade from the god's chest.
Beside him, a white light shone and, to his surprise, a lady stood. Her white dress shone about her and flowed, as if in a breeze, though none was to be found in the chapel. She reached out her hand and Elessar knew she asked for the dagger. He placed it softly in her white palm.
"I release you from my service, Elessar, rightful heir of this land. Go forth now and reclaim your kingdom and forget not the lady in your thoughts."
Then she moved as if to turn. Elessar felt his voice rising up in his throat and he called after her.
"My lady," he said, his voice faltering. She turned to regard him and he found new strength rising. "My lady, might I ask of you a few questions before you go? What of Methailas, what happens to him? And the dagger?"
She smiled and at once the chapel seemed to be filled with a radiant white light more powerful than any dawn.
"The blade has pierced his lifeblood. He will have to stand before the Pantheon now. Most likely, he will be stripped of his immortality and forced to live a mortal life. What then, I do not know. As for the blade," she said, turning it in her hand, "I will return this to the high seat where it belongs."
"Thank you, m'lady, for answering my questions."
"You have been a good servant, repaying for the deeds of your forefathers. For that, I will offer you but one small piece of advice. When you come into your own, tear this spot down and cover it with rocks, as if a funeral cairn. For the blood of a god has been spilled here and never again will it be a holy place nor will green things grow near it. Long still, perhaps, will the people fear this place and refuse to come near it."
Then the light was gone and Elessar was left standing in the chapel alone, as he had been when he walked in. No longer did any sort of heaviness lay over the church, but only a sense of quiet. The body and blood of Methailas had disappeared with the departure of his goddess. Heaving a sigh, Elessar turned and strode from the building. There was still much to do if he was to claim his kingdom.
Shakespeare
