1 Chapter 1 Try Again

I was known to be the least powerful of all the priests that existed in my world.

With only a hand full of followers in our teachings, but all loyal and well deserved of their lives.

All but me, I'm sure.

I lived my life deceiving, lying, cheating others out of their just earns, and yet why do they still follow me?

Because of my power?

The blessing of the god of blood and sacrifice, the only god I followed, that, for some reason, allowed me this salvation if only for a short time.

With every passing moment the people around me ask for some kind of miracle, some sort of hope that the god we worship will give us salvation and finally put us at the top of power.

I couldn't tell them a lie, nor tell them what I believed. Lying about our work is a sin to our brothers and sisters, but lying about the worlds teachings is fine. It's fine if the others lie about their work.

If I told them what I believed, I would be a hypocrite just like the world. I don't believe we will ever be a greater power. I don't believe in salvation. I believe in facts, reason, and logic. What they ask for isn't reasonable let alone logical. They want to call upon the god we have trusted our fates to. To have our god strike down the hypocrites and blasphemers and place us at the top where we belong.

We don't belong there... 

Not with something like this.

I am summoned to the podium at the center of the stone platform where a small, young, beautiful girl lies before me chained viciously on the stone bed that is carved with our churches mark. The others surround us all dressed in crimson cloaks and black masks bowing and chanting away over and over. I take my place by the girl as she struggles in vain and pleads a muffled voice through the cloth shoved and secured in her mouth. Brandishing a small knife from my sleeve, I hold it high for the others to see as they rise and chant with their arms in the air. I hear their prayers. Their calls for retribution. I hold my breath and hold the knife higher and hover it over the girl between her breast ready to strike down and end her suffering and fears. Hope to silence my own with it.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!!" a voice calls from the entrance behind me. I turn quickly to find armed soldiers line up along the walls. A man in pure grade iron armor and gold gloss hair stood at the front line. "YOU'RE SICK RITUALS END HERE BLOOD CHURCH!! We have you and your goons surrounded, 'priest'! Drop the knife and we may drop your sentence to life in prison."

Before I have the chance to speak, a few followers stand guard before me and hold out swords and shields all with our mark.

"We will protect you and the sacrifice, father! We only need you to finish this ritual! Let us buy you time to finish..!" Their efforts in vain as they are cut down one by one by the soldiers but not fatally. Have mercy on them. Have mercy on them all. The man with gold hair approaches me with ease as he kicks the others out of the way. "Father, NO!" One shouts struggling to stand again. I have nothing left. I don't need anything. I didn't want any of this to happen. I didn't mean for any of this to happen.

"Any last words, blood priest?" The man tells me harshly as he holds his blade up ready to strike, waiting for my answer. I turn and free the girl from the table and let her scamper to the soldiers. Then I turn back to him and look around to find all of the followers confused and frightened by my actions. I look at the man in the eyes and he is now just as confused. "What is this? A change of heart so suddenly? Do you finally wish to repent for your crimes?"

"What crimes?" I ask him. "The first and last thing we have ever done was somehow take an innocent virgin for her home and use her we saw fit. Our teachings require sacrifices to be made. And this sacrifice just happened to be the blood from the heart of a virgin. Tell me are you one, sir Edward?"

"What nonsense are you spouting, priest?" He growls now holding the blade of his sword at my throat.

With nothing else to say to him I finish the chant and send a prayer our 'god'. I feel the power welling from within me. My blood boiling under my skin as it all rushed to my chest. It becomes hard to breath as my prayer continues.

"Father, what are you doing!?"

"No!! What have you done! You will doom us all, father!"

I hold the knife high and let it drop as it hovers over my chest between me and the man known as sir Edward Sanderson. He backs away ready to swing at me. Until the knife points to me and he halts more confused than before.

"My brother and sisters..." I say with my last breath as the blade plunges through my heart straight through my back. My body aches all over. I am bleeding from every pore. From my eyes. My mouth. My nose. My ears. It hurts, but what else was I to do to finish what I started. The ritual required a virgin sacrifice. It did not specify gender, so I suppose this will suffice. "... My sincerest apologies."

I fall as I watch the blood rise from my body and form a cross I have yet to see. The cross that was changed over time and shouldn't have been. The true cross of blood. The last thing I see is this and small girl made from my blood looking back down at me until time has stopped for me all together.

"... Try again?"

What?

"Do you wish to try again?"

... No. If I start over, it will all be the same.

"... Then try anew, my disciple."

Everything turns red and it finally falls to black.