Everything begins to heat; my skin burns. I look at my hands and do not recognize what I am seeing, flesh melted and mixed with ash. I howl at the moon in pain like a beast of the night. I'm lost in this world.
Hollow and burning.
My sin has been done. I slam my fists into the ground.
Hell.
That's what this is.
I see it now.
From the moment that I entered this city, I was transported to hell — a living hell on earth. I should never have come for this hunt. I should have stayed home with my family. I should have stayed with my daughter and enjoyed the time that I have left with her. Instead, I'm fighting for more without being grateful for what I already have.
What have I become?
I continue to pound my fists into the ground from the rage that fills my stomach. The anger that is overflowing from me. The burning continues to spread through my body, gaining an intensity that is unmatched by anything that I've ever felt, like my veins are becoming fire-infused with some sort of toxin.
Tears roll from my face, but do not splash against the ground. I see the steam rising; they are evaporating from the heat that is escaping my body. I wonder if they are even tears that fall or something else.
I'm panting on the ground.
Breathing fast.
Heart racing.
Visions fading.
Black.
White.
Red.
Nothing.
"You've passed this test." The voice echoes through my mind.
When I come to, I'm lying on the ground. Scorch marks from a blazing fire surround my body. The burning is gone, but replaced with something that I can't quite place. A sensation that feels important and powerful.
I push myself away from the ground and begin to collect my thoughts. My mind feels cleansed, as if a disease was burned away. I see Evelyn's face, those shadows surrounding her. I must find her.
Then, a thought.
If they have brought Evelyn here, then Lenora must be here as well. She is a strong woman, much stronger than she gives herself credit for. They wouldn't be kept together; the pope would surely see her strength and set her on a task as well. I must find my way back to the city. Surely, she is back in the city tasked with expelling these demons, just as I am.
The woods are deep, dank, and dark. I can barely make out the moonlight that shines down upon me. I hear things scurrying around the ground, owls hooting, bumps in the night. I feel the eyes watching me, glued to my skin because I am an invader to them. A beast that's come to destroy. I see myself through their eyes.
A withering man on a doomed journey.
Still, I must push forward. I do not see a path, but logic tells me the best way to find out how far away from the city I am. So, I begin to climb a big willow that is standing beside the scratch marks on the ground. Its roots dig deep into the ground. It's old, probably just as old as this forest. Green moss covers its bark, and limbs extend from its great trunk. It's majestic against the pale moonlight that shines through its leaves.
The moss that strings down from its branches reaches for the ground but is unable to grasp it. I see it like myself and my own goals, so close yet still unattainable. As I climb the tree, I feel it sway and creak with the wind. It feels alive as I climb towards the moonlight, like at any moment it could begin to talk with me or throw me back to the ground.
The spirit of this forest is that old. It's living.
At its peak, I can see it, off in the distance.
Rapna.
The moonlight casts its reflection, giving it that regal glow. That holiest of cities, surrealism. I know the truth now, the sin of Rapna and the church that calls it home.
I see the truth in the moonlight.
Back on the forest floor, I gather my things and begin to set out on my path back towards the city. I stop, overcome with a sensation to speak to the tree as a friend.
I place my hand onto the bark.
"Thank you for allowing me to climb you, to find my way back towards the city. I will never be able to repay you for this, but you've done me such a great service. Thank you."
I turn and begin to walk away, but stop, frozen by words that lie on my tongue.
"I'm… I'm sorry for the scorch marks."
A long silence follows. The hooting of owls ceases. The scurrying of the animal paused.
A breeze caresses my face, "You are forgiven," a voice says. Old and slow like flowing amber.
Chills run down my spine. This forest is alive, just as I had thought.
"Your journey will be long and lonely," the words fall slowly from the sky to my ears. "Do not fret. Keep thy heart pure, and you may succeed."
As if nothing had ever happened, the world began to play again. The owls hoot, the scurrying of animals, and even the howling of wolves.