Melissa stood at Katherine's doorstep, trapped in a trance-like state. “I can’t go on,” she whispered. The mere thought of climbing those stairs and succumbing to sleep filled her with dread. Every night, she was forced to relive the massacre of her people, their screams echoing in her mind. Overwhelmed by despair and fear, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a knife.
Before she could act, a sudden force knocked the blade from her grasp, jolting her back to reality.
Brother Orion stood before her, his expression a mix of shock and concern. “Melissa, this cannot be the answer you seek.” He bent down, picking up the knife before slipping it into his pocket. “Father Lucas feared you might do something like this,” he said gently. “What’s going on?”
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Melissa tells Orion what she said to Lucas," And he refused to do an Exorcism. I don't know what else to do."
Where Father Rowland hesitated, Brother Orion acted.
“I spent my early days in the Church training to become an Exorcist,” Orion said. “I studied countless tomes, but none describe what you are dealing with.”
Melissa was on the verge of screaming in frustration when Orion continued, “But—I may have something.”
He pulled the knife from his pocket and sliced a strip of fabric from his robe. Pressing it against the front door, he retrieved a piece of charcoal and carefully inscribed symbols from memory.
“Creator, please bless this cloth,” he murmured in prayer.
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“This sigil is for protection against spirits that invade our dreams,” Orion explained, pressing the cloth into Melissa’s hands. “It carries an Expulsion Prayer. When you go to sleep, pray to this symbol.”
Melissa clutched the cloth, her eyes welling with emotion. For the first time since she had arrived, Orion saw a flicker of life in her expression. Without hesitation, she stepped forward and hugged him.
Before she could speak, the thunder of hooves broke the moment. A rider galloped into town, urgency in his voice.
“I need to speak with Brother Orion!” the man called out, breathless. “I know where the Usher is headed next!”
Melissa held her breath, dread curling in her stomach. Please, not River Hallow.
“Where?” Orion demanded, his gaze flickering toward Melissa, sharing the same silent prayer.
“Stennor. The township to the south.”
Orion tightened his grip on the knife he had taken from Melissa, his thoughts drifting to all the victims of Marcus’s terror. How many more were lost in the same darkness that consumed her? How many more were beyond saving?
“The Church has to send help,” he muttered under his breath.
With a final nod to Melissa, he turned and led the rider toward the Command Center.
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Inside the Command Center, Rhaine sat at a table, rubbing her temples. The search for the Harbinger had yielded nothing, and frustration weighed heavily on her. Before her, a map of the region lay sprawled out, marked with notes and potential leads that had all gone cold.
“Good evening, Lady Rhaine,” a voice interrupted her thoughts.
She looked up, her expression immediately souring. It was him—the drunkard from before. Alex.
“I told you to come to me when you were sober. It’s been days,” she said, unimpressed by his timing.
Alex nodded with a lopsided grin. “You did. And this is the first time since then that I have been sober.”
Rhaine did not share in his amusement.
“I should introduce myself properly,” Alex continued.
Her patience was razor-thin. “If you call me a wench one more time, I’ll see to it that you’re excommunicated by dawn.”
Alex hesitated, trying to gauge whether or not she was joking. Ultimately, he decided against testing her resolve.
“I am Alexander Nightside,” he said with an exaggerated bow. “An exiled knight from King Alther’s service.” His smirk faded slightly. “And I want to sincerely apologize. When I’m in certain spirits—well, let’s just say I tend to get rude.”
“What do you know of this area?” Rhaine asked, pointing to a marked section on the map.
Before Alex could respond, the door opened, and Orion entered, followed by a robed figure.
“Brother Orion, just in time to meet Alex,” Rhaine said, still skeptical of the so-called knight’s story.
“I’m afraid that will have to wait,” Orion replied, offering Alex a quick nod before turning his attention to Rhaine. “This is Brother Ralth. He comes with news of the Usher.”
Rhaine’s eyes widened. “What is it?” she asked, shifting her focus to the robed man.
Brother Ralth swallowed hard, his face pale. “I was traveling with Brother Daveth when we witnessed the Usher murder two people in the woods.” His voice cracked as he recounted what he had seen. “With him… there was a terrifying cloud of blood. And inside it—” he hesitated, his hands trembling, “—there were children.”
Rhaine’s stomach turned. “Where was this?” she demanded, motioning for Ralth to step forward. She tapped the map. “Point it out to me.”
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Brother Ralth pointed to the forest on the map. “After they killed those people, I saw them heading toward Stennor,” he said, his voice unsteady.
Rhaine’s chest tightened. The people of Stennor were in danger. Every instinct screamed at her to evacuate the town, to do something—but she didn’t have the means, the authority, or the Church’s approval. The weight of command pressed down on her as the room fell silent. All eyes in the Command Center were on her, waiting for her decision.
When she was a child in the orphanage, she had once told her teachers she would fight the Darkness. They had told her that in moments of doubt, to remember one thing: The Church is the mouthpiece of the Creator. All decisions from the Church are the Creator’s will.
She clenched her fists, steeling herself. Duty came first.
“We stay in River Hallow,” she ordered. “We follow our orders.”
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Brother Ralth stepped forward, his voice rising with urgency. “You can’t be serious! These people will die if we do nothing!”
Rhaine’s gaze snapped to him, her expression hard. “Don’t you think I know that?” she shot back. “I know what will happen to them. We’ve seen what the Usher did in Dren.”
The weight of her decision pressed down on her, heavier than ever. Her hands curled into fists as she steadied herself.
“The Church has given direct orders—no one is to confront the Usher. No exceptions.” She turned her gaze across the room, ensuring there was no room for doubt. “For any reason.”
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Her voice hardened as she delivered the final warning. “Anyone who disobeys will be placed under arrest.”
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