I had dreams.
Many dreams.
The Tempter was unrelenting in his cause. Every time my mind wandered in my slumber, I would find myself before a Tree—the same strange tree. Then, Satan would say the same thing, opting to get me in a covenant with him, which I would sternly reject every time. But then, he would trouble me with my worries. Not fear of persecution, for I had overcome that challenge, but fear for the welfare of my brethren. Of Matthew.
I hadn't met him in a while, nor had he sent any letters to get in touch. Now, I wasn't his wife to be worried because of something this trivial. The worries stemmed from the things the Devil would constantly say to me in those dreams. He had taken Matthew's form in our first encounter for this same reason.
But, for once, I had a way of knowing for sure…
Nathan fell on the soil, arms sprung about his sides. He was breathing heavily—as always, while a towel slept snugly on his forehead.
"I can't…" he huffed. "I'm at my limits."
"You only started, Nathan," said Father James. "You have 45 more reps to do."
"Yeah buh..I still got 5 in. New highscore no?"
"Isn't Joshua a newbie? Hasn't he completed all fifty?"
"He's light," debated Nathan. "Not much *huff* load to lift. It's much *huff* harder for me, though."
Will sighed, rubbing his eyebrows. His younger brother was embarrassing him in the presence of the newbie.
I wasn't this newbie.
I took a sip of water from a bottle and poured some over my forehead, letting it wash down my face and drop from my chin. The skies sang a pleasant hymn, just as the sun opened its garments, and the wind glided across the plains. Four of us, aside Father James, were in the training field. Will, Nathan, I and the newbie whose name I had forgotten for the nth time.
"Done!" the newbie groaned, slumping on the ground. We were all shirtless, and we were all made to do fifty push ups. Even the newbie wasn't exempted.
Reminds me of my first time here.
"Alright, now, rest up for a while," Father James instructed. "We move to squats after this."
"I don't think I can stand up, sir," the newbie complained.
But Father James ignored him. "Nathan! You're slacking!"
"Sir! I ca-!"
"Give me thirty at once!"
Nathan nearly broke into tears. I even started to pity him.
Will walked over, and sat on the grass next to me.
"A bit late to be asking this.." he said. "But how are you finding this division?"
"Not as bad as I expected."
Will smiled. "Well, I can assure you that we all expected the worst during our early days of Division 5. It was especially difficult for me to get used to it."
I glanced at his biceps. "Nah you should have been fine."
He laughed. "Ah you're looking at this? Ha! Well, this is purely the work of Division 5. I was no different from a twig when I joined."
"Eh?"
"Give it a few years," he said. "You'll get a tanker's build in no time."
"Uhh..no..thanks."
"Too late. As you can see, not everyone is made to undergo these training sessions. Once Father James sets his eyes on you, there's no going back."
"You mean..that's his goal? To make me some giant flesh machine?"
Will laughed again. "No, of course not. There's always a nobler reason."
Will plucked one small flower amidst the grass. "Have you heard of the story of the tractor and the flower?"
"Uhh…no."
"It's a little tale that goes back to childhood. There was a flower struggling to grow in the midst of lots of grass. It had to compete for sun and rain with a field of endless green. There was a tractor that regularly trimmed that grass. With time, the flower could grow, its petals could spread out, and its glory could be seen."
Will dropped the flower. "Father James strikes me as a very discerning person. And this is the same for many others here. When I was being introduced into Division 5, I was filled with vulnerabilities, insecurities and fears. But I had potential. I believe he saw it all. Both the grass and the flower. That might have been why he made me join these sessions. Building my body helped me see myself in a better light. It also enhanced my discipline, endurance, and commitment."
Sigh…
"Grass, huh? I see. It's a much longer process than just refining gold. Well, indeed, there might be one or two issues with me at the moment. Though, I'm not entirely sure that exercising would help much. But, I guess I'll trust the process."
Will nodded slightly.
"Have you heard of the Convention?" he asked.
"I know a little of it," I answered. "An annual event where every Sanctum comes together for mass services, after which a selection of Crusaders are sent on an expedition into Satan's Abode. Though, I have no idea what that place is."
"Ah Satan's Abode. A strange name attributed to the great darkness of that biome," replied Will. "Well, I haven't been there myself, so all I know is that there are lots of demons and antichrists in that forest. There are reports of it being intertwined with the World of Darkness."
"Antichrists?"
"Alright! Break's over!" Father James shouted with a clap.
"Ah…I can't stand, sir!" The newbie groaned again.
"On your feet! Mark!" screamed Father James. "And you, Nathan! How are you still slacking on twenty?!"
"But..*huff*..I'm..*huff*..at my best!"
"I said-!"
"Okay, okay, fine!" Nathan waved in defeat, pushing himself to his feet.
Father James looked back at us. "Hundred reps. All of you!"
"EH?!"
*******
In the comfort of her sheets, was a woman struck with sadness—an ache, from a scar.
Mary wept, wrapping herself in her mattress. Her hair buried her face, and her head sunk lower than one could see.
She sobbed. Quietly. But, she was oblivious to one thing.
"She cries. She cries," said the odd-looking demon (if these 'odd-looking entities' could appear more strangely than they already did). It seemed like a demon—but a very distinct, ugly and nasty one.
The thing sat on her bed, weeping along with her, as it poked at the rot and mould on its protruded belly. There were worms and insects moving through clusters of holes of its face, where pus, some green yuck, and even more tears would flow through, rolling down its face. This demon seemed to hate the way it appeared. It observed its bulging belly with a mix of disgust, sorrow and self-pity.
Mary did not see it.
This demon had a form, and it spoke, so it couldn't be a first stage manifestation. But, the aura of a second stage manifestation wouldn't go unnoticed—certainly not in a Sanctuary. This was even less likely for a third stage manifestation, unless it had an artefact—just as those who were responsible for the increasing number of strange, reported demon encounters.
However, this was still a gathering of many Crusaders. It was the dorms of the Academy, situated right in the centre of the Sanctum. For a demon to waltz in unnoticed—that would be very unlikely.
If so, what was this thing?