The Demon Akahaziel: Spirit Link

Dmitri left the room and headed downstairs. The innkeeper saw him and sent Ivan over to him. Dmitri smiled at him, "Ah young Ivan is it? I heard the Innkeeper say your name before, you're the one that helped our horses aren't you? She's away safely I trust?"

Ivan nodded, "Yes my Lord, she's away safely. I put her in the end stall and gave her some oats just like you said. Did you want to go and see Father Marcus now?"

"Yes, thank you Ivan that would be good. We've got to fix the problem your village has don't we?"

Ivan nodded again. "Follow me, I'll take you to him," he said.

As Dmitri followed the boy Ivan back through the Inn, he looked around and noticed that a lot of the people in the Inn seemed to have settled somewhat to his presence, the darkness there wasn't near what it had been earlier. "Ivan," Dmitri called, "can you tell me why everyone seems to be scared of me?"

"Oh, um, I'm not sure what Father Marcus has told everyone else, but he told us kids that a magicker is coming to fix things,” replied Ivan. “We are all scared though, so many have gotten sick. My Da says it's never been this bad before. Some people aren’t sure you can be trusted."

Dmitri pondered this as they travelled the rest of the trip in silence. Once they arrived at the church, the other stone structure in the village, Dmitri was lead in and taken through the nave of the church to a small door at the back. Ivan knocked on this and a voice on the inside beckoned them in. Dmitri opened the door and was greeted by a small old man in the garb of a priest.

"Ah, you must be the Exarch the church sent?" asked the old priest, rising to his feet. "I'm so glad you've come, it's been a horrible time. Well you would have seen for yourself what it is like out there. But come, come and sit with me, my name is Father Marcus."

Dmitri walked over and sat where the old priest had beckoned. As he did so, he looked around the room, seeing if he could identify the type of man he was dealing with. A priest of course, that much could be told from his clothes and location, but the quality of his furniture, lesser then that Dmitri had seen at the inn indicated that this man took his role as a priest to God with humility and respect. Some priests that Dmitri had dealt with were quite the opposite. They would hoard wealth and they would adorn their usually spoilt fat fingers with rings and gems and wear silk robes and live in opulence. Father Marcus however was a plain man, the decorations in his small room said as much, a small statue here, a drab painting there, nothing at all gaudy.

Dmitri introduced himself to Father Marcus, "Yes, I am Dmitri Romanovic, Exarch. Tell me, how did this all start? I met one of your people, Fyodor, and he was unable to shed any light on the cause."

"Fyodor?" the priest asked, startled, "You met Fyodor? Is he alive, did you help him?"

Saddened by the reminder, Dmitri replied, "No, I'm afraid I was too late. I did make it easier for him; I dulled the pain and let him go comfortably."

"Oh that's good," said Marcus looking disappointed and saddened, "It's probably for the best; he would have been in great pain. He was a good man, a bit irritable at times, but aren't we all? I mean at this age, we have plenty of reason to be irritable."

Dmitri let him ramble for a time, lost in his memories and then reached over and patted him on the arm. "The cause?" he asked gently.

"Oh my yes, I'm sorry, I tend to do that, one of the failures of age you see. If I get too carried away, please get me back on track won't you? Now where was I? Oh yes, the cause. It was the water. It flows from a natural cave slightly further up the mountains from here. We figure that something has gone and died in the cave and it's washed into the river and is rotting and corrupting the water there."

"Couldn't some of your local men do something?" Dmitri asked, surprised that he'd been called all the way out here for such a simple task.

"Ah yes," Marcus started hesitantly, embarrassed, "It seems that the local men are still a superstitious lot. They won't go near the cave. In fact, I don't think I have seen any of them pass what they call the Guardian Flame. Although there is some sort of ceremony up there once a year. Yes I do know it is probably some sort of pagan ritual but I just find it easier to let them have it. The road to God has many paths after all."

"What is the Guardian Flame?" Dmitri asked gently interrupting him.

"What? Oh yes, part-way up the path towards the cave there are some torches and a basin of flames. They're all protected from the weather with little shelters and all. The villagers don't let it go out. When I first arrived here as a missionary, how many years ago, I don't recall, but the people worshipped the fire. A bit pagan I know, but they embraced my teachings readily enough. But even now, after years of worshipping God and all his glory, they still won't let the flames die out. They say it keeps him away."