Prophet of Sin: Pyrrhic

“Sister Lillian!” The loud smack echoed through the library as Mother Mary hit the door frame with a ruler. 

“Hmm?” Lillian looked up from the book she was currently reading. Books somewhat scattered about on the table she was using. Mother Mary walked up to her upset yet again.

“Perhaps you could explain why you seem to have no desire to learn about the life long commit you are to summon soon?” Mother Mary stated.

“I’m researching summons.” Lillian rebutted before returning to her book. “And met most of the types, being the youngest of 5. I have heard the basics we’re taught in class since I was 7. ” Mother Mary closed the book Lillian was reading.

“And who will be summoning with you then?” Mother Mary glared as Lillian rubbed the back of her head and fidgeted.

“Umm… I was kind of hoping to do an independent summon.” Mother Mary got face to face with Lillian glaring at her. “See, it’s just that I was leaning towards a werewolf or something, and no one is summoning anything compatible.” The other students watched as Lillain was dragged across the floor yet again. “I still have some time!” She shouted struggling, “Jackson?! Pual?” frantically she called out names as she often did. Occasionally someone felt guilty enough to help, but this time there was only silence and Lillian was thrown into the closet for the 4th time this week. She slumped on the floor, and rested her back on the bench. She waited until the footsteps stopped echoing then crawled over to the far right corner. Removing the loosen the nails on a couple of boards, and pulling out a few distractions. She read, played palleled ball, and even finished a drawing before quickly stuffing the contraband back into the hidey hole. “I’ll just go home.” She signed as a preacher called her by name when opening the door. She adjusted the blue habit that matched with her uniform. “They usually don’t lock the door.” She walked out of the church into the night. Head down as she walked through the barely lit town, and knocked loudly twice. She waited a bit before knocking twice again. She sighed before perking up.

“Do they ever actually answer?” Trox questioned. “Or living outside just the price one pays for being a cursious nun?”

“Occasionally, I can wake one of them up.” Lillian stated climbing up in Trox’s wagon. “Maybe I’d be worth the time, if I earned an oath already.” Trox looked at her as he whipped the reins on his horse. 

“You haven’t been given an oath?” Trox questioned. “You must’ve submitted a dozen.”

“Just the 10.” Lillian stated laying back on the seat. “They always say it needs to be more unique, but whenever I give that to them it’s the work of Braoxenqu or something.”

“I’ll take Braoxen’s work over dealing with those shepherds.” Trox mumbled just loud enough to be heard. Lillian looked at him. “What? You don’t need to pray for me now, do you?” He stated in his usual joking tone.

“You’re serious?” Lillian looked at Trox in shock, which only confused him. “You’ve dealt with silver shepherds?”

“Your barrels are marked, Mister Yaniff.” Trox stated as he opened the back, and caught his payment as it was tossed to him. “My apologies, but your men shall have to unload themselves tonight.” Trox stated before he removed a box hidden in the back corner of this wagon. He hopped down, and placed the small wooden box in front of both of them. Opening it without hesitation. Letting Lillian look the carvings inside the lid and on the bottom of the box over as one of Yaniff’s men came to talk with him.

“This is a Luxirum” Lillian mumbled. “How it is…”

“Close it, and the shepherds stop caring about beer. That’s all I know.” Trox stated returning.

“No, Trox.” Lillian looked at him astonished. “This…” She looked over the symbols with Trox’s curiosity now peeked. “This is supposed to be an artifact of the church....” Now Trox was confused.
“Braoxenqu.” Trox stated with a long pause. “A demon lord made me a holy artifact.”

“He MADE it?” Lillian questioned turning back to him. Trox nodded in response stepping forward as she looked back to the box. “The symbols here are supposed to produce a shock wave of light, which repeals sin and temptation.”

“Which blesses the wildlight, and let’s the shepherds know which wagon to protect.” Trox concluded. “So what does mine do?”

“Something the church could’ve easily done for you.” Lillian scolded. 

“Coming from a family like yours I suppose you would think it’s that simple.” Trox stated closing the box.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Lillian rebutted. Trox put the box back, and opened a map.
“Radestilk, doesn’t pay due. Mortiker, orders too much alcohol. Alkcore has always got a dispute or two with the capital. Which means I have no way of knowing whether I can take one of these 5 roads, or if ‘m even allowed to take a shipment half the time.” Trox pointed out every section he was talking about as he went. “Almost all my business is near impossible to get to. And no one brings supplies there, if I don’t. I mean it seems like every week now one of them is struggling to even survive.”

“Do you believe as some of them do then?” Lillian questioned following Trox before he turned around. “Do you think i’m… worshiping the cruel god or something?”

“I think the lot of you. ALL of you. Are wasting time on a question that not one of us could ever know the answer to.” Trox stated before starting to climb on to his wagon. “I believe in what works, and your church doesn't work for me.” After a brief pause he was about to take off before Lillian called him.

“Trox?” Trox turned back to Lillian. “Can I still come?” She questioned rather embarrassed now as both recalled why she even with him in the first place.

“Well leaving you outside alone all night isn’t going to work now is it?” Trox gesture his head to the empty seat as Lillian smiled. “Come on.” She climbs a board, and both took off to Trox next destination. Lillian sort of silently studies the dirt roads having never traveled on a lot of them before now. Trox wasn’t sure what to say, so he just did his normal route to Radestilk. Once there an angry mob snapped Lillian out of her trace.

“I’m barely a junior nun. I really don’t know much about this.” Lillian tried to settle down the mob, but was clearly failing.

“Enough!” A cane slammed to the ground as the man holding it sighed. “Are you so filled with distrust that even our only merchant can not be a friend?” The crowd looked rather embarrassed and quieted down. “I am Father Tibet, and I can only ask you pardon the hungry.” Father Tibet stated. Lillian got down and greeted him before looking around. It seemed like such a peaceful place, especially for how much diversity there was. Devote church followers, both male and female, has their various summons assisting various occultists and alchemists. Even with a quick glance of one of the largest settlements ever built, it  seems every kind of belief came from every kind of life. “Beautiful isn’t it?” Father Tibet words snapped Lillian out of her trace. “And sadly struggling, but passing inspection will be no simple task, either.”

“You’re going to pay?” Trox and Lillian questioned, but Lillian was more outraged. “Father, you can’t possibly do that to these people.”

“With what resources we have there will soon be little choice.” Father Tibet stated before looking over Lillian. “But it has been quite sometimes, so perhaps you would save us some trouble?” So the citizens of Radestilk did their best to make corrections as per Lillian’s instructions. 

“You’re quite sure this is right?” Father Tibet questioned looking over the work as well.

“I assure you, Father.” Lillian replied. “I am exceptionally versed in every possible way to fail.” A chuckle emerged from the crowd. And having got a sizable amount of work done, they all sat down and had dinner. Various discussions emerged about what to hide from the church and how. What techniques stems for the intermixing of occultic and alchemical tactics into church practices, and what words to avoid saying. Where the less desirable were going to hide, and some offers to bring them their supplies with not so subtle ulterior motives. As the days passed by Lillian felt like the town lost its flare. Everything special about it slowly went into hiding, and routines became more and more basic. She was more than ready for this inspection to be over with by the time the day finally arrived.

“I suppose you feel clever.” Mother Mary stated looking at Father Tibet. “Having successfully hidden away your town’s sins

“I would hardly have the resources to hide them.” Father Tibet responded. “The shepherd ruin nearly all the crops before a night can even pass. That or they do nothing but bully every sinner every day. As far  as I know, you finally scared them all off.”

“Is that so?” Mother Mary questioned.”  

“It would seem- ” Father Tibet paused as sounds of echo splashing became louder. A humanoid body composed of what appeared to be liquid silver entered the town dragging several occultists along the ground with its crook. “For the heavens, Mary. Our creed demands we help even the lost.”

“As we shall, starting with the blasphemy of this town.” Mother Mary stated as she walked away.
“And I shall have to see where in this you belong Sister Lillian.” What was supposed to be a day of celebration became one of fear and preparation. There was almost panicked and debate on whether or not they should fight. Discuss carrying on just passed dusk, and quickly became murmurs of confusion as one after the other various occultist and alchemist were handed a list and then ran off in various directions. Slowly people learn to gather at the town square As the hour to their judgement slowly approached.

Lillian mumbled looking over what various ingredients had been gathered. “Liquid? I still need a liquid.”

“Doesn’t have to be pure I hope.” Trox stated bring his wagon of beer over. “I thought you couldn’t light a circle yourself.”

“I can’t.” Lillian stated. “Not properly.” she motioned for him to dump the barral, and started chanting. Trox grinned before pushing a barrel over edge, and letting as much flow out as possible at first it seemed to be pouring out normally, but slowly it seemed to be shaping itself. Lillian began grabbing ingredients as the booming sound of an echoing splash encircled the town. “I need that torch, and more time.” The push-back effort was ragtag and borish, but it was proving at least somewhat effective. The massive army of silver shepherds was clearly going slower than they would have liked. It was a long and painful process, but finally the ground itself shined bright. The words ``In thy name and consideration. Hallowed is this place.” echoed across town. Trox held up his hands and Braoxenqu’s box as he cheered with the others as the silver shepherd began to walk away. Lillian sighed exhausted, and sat down in his wagon. “That box of yours might not work for a spell.” She stated as Trox took her home.

“Oh, I suppose I was supposed to let people starve?” Trox turned to look at Lillian before a loud thud from behind caught the attention of both. The familiar sound of an echoing splash grew louder and louder “Don’t they fade? This is way more than usual.”

“We did a bit more than usual!” Lillian yelled as they closed in. “Just keep heading forward!” Lillian mumbled for a rather long time as liquid silver wobbled the wagon. Trox did every turn he could think of, but to no avail.

“I can’t keep this up, Lillian!” Trox shouted as two more shots hit the wagon. Lillian completed her last chant.

“Nothing working I can’t…” There was a brief pause before Lillian spoke again. “Braoxenqu, what is he like?

“What? Trox questioned before nearly being driven of course as silver pierced the wagon. “Alright, alright.” He stated as Lillian was about to add her own rebuttal. “He is surprisingly calm.” Trox tried to think. “He eats or drinks between even his own words, but he’ll hear you out. It’s not so much laziness as it is..umm.. innovation? I don’t quite know what to call it.” Lillian began a chant again, but her hand motions were more improved than before. In an instant the wagon was gone from the woods, and a barrel was slammed down. The wagon faced the back of a strong looking demon. Standing on two black furred goat legs with the top half of a very muscled human body, the head of a bull all with a dark gray skin. In starch contrast bubbles emitted from him forming a sort of tail. “I” Trox paused as Braoxenqu looked at him with pure yellow eyes only interrupted their white irises. “I have no idea how she did that but-” Trox turned to Lillian who seemingly appeared to be almost dying. Braoxenqu walked up her, and snorted into her face.

“Ugh.” she groaned still lethargically moving. “You…” She spoke tiredly, but still sounded rather surprised.

“You are clearly his friend.” Braoxenqu spoke in deep voice with a slightly dark tone, but it remained somewhat human for all its demonic qualities. “And not a typical nun, seeing as you came here.” He continued to chow down on a giant chicken leg between sentences. 

“Um, while we’re here.” Trox stated lifting a barrel of rum quickly attracting Braoxen’s attention. “That box isn’t quite functioning and-” Braoxen collected the barrel and walked around to the box before snorting on it. “Thank you.” He merely grunted before returning to a near endless consumption of meat and alcoholic drinks.

“May I ask?” Lillian questioned as Braxoenqu looked at her as she step towards him “it’s just… your tail...”

“Do you find it amusing?” Braoxenqu growled as he asked. 

“No, no.” Lillian quickly stated. “It’s  just… “For thy to judge a demon based on appearance is foolish,  but never can one not see the truth.” Braoxenqu had stopped paying attention when she paused, but was quickly drawn back in. “For whatever sin, Whatever tales they mask. You will find.”

“That a demon’s tail is a demon’s life.” Braoxen finished. “You’ve read the book of sin?”

“I may have” Lillian fidgeted. “requisitioned it for a time.” Braoxenqu gave a hearty laugh.

“I like this one.” Braoxen stated. “The bubbles contain the flavors of all I have tasted and all I have got drunk on.”

“So it’s… not poetic. It’s gluttony you’ve sought all your life.. It’s actually your life.” Braoxenqu only barely nodded. Lillian walked away and began whispering to Trox

“You think you can stick around and hide in town for a day?” Lillian questioned.

“Lillian?” Trox whispered. “Are you actually going back there?. They’ll kill-”

“They’ll put me on trial and whether they exile me or-” Braoxenqu’s eyes widen as Lillian spoken, and, using only one arm, threw the giant chicken bone into the tree besides her. There was a brief silence before he handed her a book after walking over. “You’re... giving me... a book?” She questioned as they stared at each other. “Just giving it away?”

“Your friend believes in the pragmatic.” Braoxenqu began. “So he consorts with an absurdly powerful demon with a tail composed of alcohol.” He turned to Lillian. “You believe in the church, so you suffer their endless judgement of your failures in hopes of pleasing them. The church in turn believes in you and suffers through the trouble of a nunling willing to defy them to the point she invokes a demon lord. I believe in the acquisition of rum.” He turn 180 degrees before grabbing the bone. “And so I am giving you a book.” He then removed the bone for the tree before crushing it to dust. Lillian returned to the church ashamed and terrified as every member of the church, including her family, cast judgement upon her. Unable to sleep she opened the book given to her, and read until her trial.

“Wait.” Lillian stated as she was led into the purging room of the church. “I am owned a trial. No matter how fowl the-”

“Do you truly think these matters were left undiscussed last night?” A father of the church stated. “That you were the only sleepless one? Are you still so arrogant as to think your trial can not be done without you when your defense would be meaningless? To hear your defense is pointless. You have none!” He glared as Lillian began a chant. “Your made up spells will not save you this time.” 

“So I pledged my soul, and condemn it to the darkness.” The father’s eyes went wide as he heard Lillian speak out loud. “Heaven’s light abandon me, and grant me Hell’s FLAME.” Several church members attempted to rush her, but it was too late. Dark energy pulsed out and shattered several cracks into the wall. Lillian’s habit had been blown back revealing her once blonde hair, which had now turned a bright orange. Her once light blue eyes now a dark green. A small demon-like creature remained closed by her as she ran with tears in her eyes. The sounds of a victory in the background. The victory of driving her out.