Chapter 2

A single Pontian creature hadn't been able to successfully penetrate and attack the interior of the town at any time within the past few years. Roaming Pontia of different shapes and sizes could be found outside the city walls in just about any area of open land, but never within the confines of a city. The occasional caravan between towns would be attacked by one or two small Pontian beasts with little issue. For this purpose, each traveling caravan was defended by a detachment of church guard from one of the surrounding cities. This morning's attack inside the town, however minor, was a shock to everyone within the village. To calm the populace, a special evening church session was called. Everyone within the town was expected to attend.

All few hundred of the Gestalt villagers congregated at dusk in the main church steeple found in the center of town. The building easily accommodated the large group and its design even left room for a few hundred more. The appearance of the church was not ornate in any way. No large windows could be seen gracing its walls, and only small metal grates designed for air flow could be found littering the ceiling. Not a single pane of stained glass could be found inside of the holy room either. The walls themselves were built from stone and masonry, fashioned in a way similar to the strong block walls of battlements. Three large wooden doors led into the chamber, each placed along the back wall.

The main chamber was very angular, almost resembling a large triangular box. The ceiling above the main area raised approximately two stories into the air. The only anomaly of the large room was the smooth circular walls around the main podium, which were almost spherical in nature. Single long pews reached across the entire length of the large chamber. They were made of weathered oaken boards and topped with several layers of cushioning linen. Along the walls were very large sconces containing giant oil-based fires used to light the entire room. The stone walls behind these sconces were stained a deep black from the burning soot.

As everyone entered the room and sat along the pews, very little muttering could be heard. The villagers knew not to worry and second guess while in the house of the Lord. A few moments later several members of the parish entered, followed by the high priest of the town.

He was a man of medium build, about halfway through his life cycle. His hair was a deep burgundy, and trailed down his back in a long mane. He wore a stark white tunic that ran the length of his body like a robe. Along its sides, seams of bright purple and gold could be seen. They were so vibrant that even the congregation members in the very back could see how stark they were compared to the surroundings. He carried a large ivory staff topped with a gilded cross. He used this staff as a walking stick and tapped it on the ground with each step. He casually walked up to the main podium, turned to face the crowd, and began to speak. As he spoke, his deep booming voice could be heard echoing throughout the chamber. His voice was loud but also soothing.

"Citizens, it is with great dismay that I must speak to you this night. As you very well must know, a single beast of Evil was able to reach into the very heart of our town on this day. A dire event indeed, but members of our Holy Protectorate were able to eradicate the creature just moments after its breach.

"While successful in their motions, the events were not without incident. Of sad note, a small child of the Tonne family was lost this morn, and for this the Church wears a heavy heart. Losing one of the smallest members of the congregation is a tearful moment, and our condolences are to be given out to them.

"This day's events have been a great cause of fear within our congregation, and it is this reason that we are here on this eve.

"Fear, as I have spoken of before, is an evil thing. Fear leads to nothing but peril and desperation." The priest paused for a moment. "Fear leads us to commit acts of Evil, and fear leads us to lose faith in the Lord. Fear is the enemy of our faith and should be banished from our everyday lives.

"We of the Church are here to protect you and your families from harm. Remember, it is us of the Church whom have the sole power to vanquish those belonging to the evil of Pontia.

"While dark and evil, beasts of the Pontia do not belong to a single organized movement. They do not construe a plan to eradicate our day-to-day lives. They do not have a leader, and they are not controlled by one being. Pontia and the concept of evil are but one in the same. Beasts born of the Pontia simply exist to hate all, and attack all regardless of temperament. Pontian entities are based on pure evil, and nothing more.

"Only faith and worship of the Heavens above will help us to survive this continuous scourge of Evil. We of the Church request your faith in these matters, and we in turn will continue to provide our services. Fear not, as we are here to protect you to our dying breath. Live your lives free of fear, and we will all conquer this threat together. Continue to live each day to the fullest, and be certain to keep God close to your heart."

With these last words, the priest stepped away from the podium and walked towards a large flat altar behind him. He knelt down on the ground with his palms facing towards the altar, and lay still. The members of the congregation lifted from their seats, and left the chamber.

During dinner at the family's home, talk about the day's event began to be discussed around the table.

Donovan's father spoke, "I heard that the Beast got into our gates by boring itself into the belly of a boar brought via a caravan. A single dead boar lay in the middle of all the cages, harboring the deadly Pontia. Stupid pig farmers and their carelessness…"

That thought certainly didn't make this evening's meal of pork stew any better for the mind. Already very dry and salty, having the meal relate to the evil of a Pontian beast made it all the worse. His mother and father continued to talk to each other.

His little sister, Bettany, neglected her meal. Instead she concentrated on twirling the ends of her auburn hair around her fingers, all the while whispering little nothings into the little yellow bows at the tips.

A lingering thought was on the mind of Donovan as he ate. Seeing how quickly the church guard had attended to the matter of the day impressed him. He had never seen a Pontia with his own eyes before, and the speed at which it was dispatched by the Holy Protectorate amazed him. The guard simply went about his duty: he slayed the beast, took care of the remains, and then returned to his post.

He calmly asked his father, "When does the church accept new students into the training for church services?"

"The church trains new recruits each spring," his father responded without giving it much thought.

Donovan waited another moment to think and then spoke, "I think I want to join the Holy Protectorate and help defend the town."

His mother and sister gave quick gasps. His father, now realizing what his son had originally asked, contemplated his request. He paused, and then spoke. "Why do you feel the need to be a holy defender?"

"The speed at which that soldier slayed the beast I saw today was amazing. He was so fast at killing the monster, that… that it was almost a miracle! I think of what might have happened if Bettany would have been the one attacked instead Paul Tonne. If I were out there defending the town, I could better protect the family. I could be of better use to the town… as a warrior."

"Do you not enjoy the baker's life?" his mother asked.

"I do like baking, but I feel that it would be better for the Church if I fought."

His parents gave each other glances. They turned to each other and muttered.

Little Bettany stared at Donovan. Tiny tears could be seen accumulating in the corners of her eyes. The edges of her lips could be seen curling downward trying to create a slight frown. She had always expected that her big brother would be around to help her in the bakery. How dare he try to leave her and his family for the Church!

After a moment, his mother and father nodded to each other. His father began to speak slowly, "If you so desire to join the Church, then we will not stop you. You are still young, but we believe that you are acting with your heart. The Protectorate is always in need of more members to join its fight. If you still feel as strongly as you do now when spring arrives, then we will let you enroll in the training of the Church.

"We do not look forward to having you leave this family for that of the Church, but we accept the fact that it is the will of God that you have chosen this. He Upon High will protect you from harm during your training and duties, and in turn you will protect us from that which is Evil."

Donovan had already made a pact within himself to stick to his beliefs and join the Church in the spring. Previously, he had always pictured himself continuing to be a baker, conjuring more and more elaborate sweet breads to sell to the populace. This new thought of becoming a warrior was exciting, yet unknown. He had a feeling in his gut that this decision was the right one to make. He had to learn how to protect and defend. He needed the training of a warrior in order to save his family. He needed to become a soldier in order to support his faith.

That night as he slept, he dreamt of the tasks he might be doing as a member of the Holy Protectorate. He saw a much older self standing watch high upon the iron gates on the north side of town. He saw himself giving orders to lift the barricade upon the door and personally cranking the heavy iron doors open. He waved the caravan below welcome into the town.

He had dreams of walking alongside a traveling circus that was bound between the two main cities of the west. He watched as jugglers and acrobats practiced their art as the wagons wobbled along the trail. He laughed and joked with his fellow defenders about what a great show the next town was about to receive.

Unfortunately for little Donovan, he did not once dream of having to battle a single enemy. Not once did a Pontia enter his dream, nor did any other beast of evil. Not once over the course of the winter did he think about any of fighting that he might have to participate in as a member of the Holy Protectorate. He did not yet realize the training ahead was going to be incredibly tough and a burden on his very soul.

Regardless, that following spring little Donovan the previous baker-in-training joined the Church in order to fight the scourge of Evil.

Continue to Chapter 3