18. Nightcrawler

If he hadn't been supporting himself with his cane, Joseph would have fallen down in fear.

That *thing*, Mabel, had a deep, guttural voice, like the sound of a wolf growling from the bottom of a 10-metre-deep well.

What horrified the doctor the most, however, was the fact that whatever that monster was...it had been summoned by Prince Tariq. Those symbols on the ground, the gestures with the sword...

*I...never suspected he was a warlock...*

*My God... What should I do? I... I definitely should have stayed in the infirmary...*

Joseph closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. His hands were trembling in plain sight, making it harder to hold his cane.

*Stay in control... Just...wait, then you can get away from him and forget this ever happened.*

The prince took out Filip's medication, showing it to Mabel. The small creature approached him, grabbing the tablets and bringing them closer to her face. Her red eyes got brighter.

“I see...great emotional turmoil here...” Mabel said as she passed the tablets from one hand to the other. “The pain’s energy is imprinted on these objects.”

“Can you follow the trail of this energy? I'm looking for the owner of these.”

“Ah! Of course, my lord, of course...”

“Thank you. Now go.”

The creature nodded, floating away from the circle.

*J-Jesus Christ... Is she a demon? A demon child?*

“Do you have the cane, Doctor?”

Joseph swallowed, still trembling.

The prince had become a stranger to him... If he was willing to summon an imp, he could be capable of anything... Even...hurting Joseph, if he didn’t cooperate.

“Y-Yes… H-Here, Your Highness,” the doctor said, holding the oak branch in front of him.

“Hold it a little further away from you. Yes, just like that.”

As Joseph held the cane stretched out in front of him, the prince raised his hand, pointing to the cane. He made a gesture with his hands, the index and middle fingers united, with the thumbs pressed at the base, and the other fingers folded down.

Joseph noticed it was the same gesture that was present in several religious artworks, ones depicting Jesus, Mary, the angels, and many of the saints.

*H-How can he...*

He wasn't able to finish his thought, for a flame of fire was now bursting from the tip of his cane.

“FUCK! ARE YOU MAD?!”

*How the hell has this madman lit a fire with just his hand?*

Joseph dropped the burning branch and turned, running away again on his one good leg. This time, however, he headed back towards the college quarters.

“HEY! Where do you think you’re going?” The prince grabbed his arm, holding the flaming branch in his free hand, and pulled Joseph back inside the circle. “I told you to stay here!”

Joseph shoved the other boy rudely, and Tariq almost lost his balance.

“Fuck off with this bloody circle! You tried to burn me! And you summoned a demon! What the fuck are you, a warlock?”

The prince kept staring at him, his face slowly falling as Joseph continued:

“The thing that attacked me at the crossroads... It was your fault, wasn’t it? You summoned it, too! Then you brought this abomination into my home! MY HOME! I OFFERED YOU MY HOME WHEN YOU WERE HURT AND YOU BROUGHT A DEMON THERE, YOU RASCAL! YOU MANIAC MURDERER!”

The prince swallowed, glancing off to the side before his eyes fixed on the ground.

“No.”

“How can I trust you? How can I be sure you haven't come up with this story about Svoboda disappearing just to lure me into a deserted area and kill me, just like you did to him?!”

“You can't.”

They remained silent for several long moments, Joseph staring at the prince, and the prince staring down at his own feet.

The doctor noticed Tariq's shoulders slumped, his body almost bent over. He was still holding the cane, but he looked to be leaning heavily on it. Suddenly, he seemed so much smaller than he actually was.

Covered in that thick cloak, the dark hood falling over his face, the prince might’ve been mistaken for an old hermit to unfamiliar eyes. Tired, defeated, abased, spurned... Hiding in the forest to surround himself with peace and quiet.

Joseph swallowed, his insides burning with the same wave of remorse he had felt when the prince was at his home. He opened his mouth, but again, there were no words.

Prince Tariq raised his head, and when his eyes met the fire on the branch, Joseph noticed they were hazy and watery, tears ready to fall. His eyebrows were pulled together so far that even the top of his nose wrinkled.

The young doctor realised he had gone too far this time.

"I shall...follow Mabel, and find Svoboda. I implore you to leave this place right away, for it's still somewhat safe if you go now." With that said, the prince shook the cane and the fire was extinguished.

They were in the dark again.

"Wait, Y-Your Highness... I'm-"

"Stop calling me ‘Your Highness’. You don't have any respect for me." He threw the branch to Joseph, almost hitting him in the face. Then, he tossed Joseph's bag at his feet. "Farewell, Doctor."

He turned his back to Dr. Selden, the faint light of the new moon revealing only his bent shoulders and the peak of his hood.

***

"You seem sorrowful, young lord..."

Tariq remained silent, staring forward as he walked with a hurried pace. His eyes were brighter, now an incandescent shade of yellow, better to see in the dark with.

His tears had dried up, but this wasn't the first time something like this had happened, nor would it be the last.

*Father is right... We'll always be the monsters, no matter how much good we try to do. I'll bring that fool Svoboda back, then I'll just mind my own and my family's business.*

*It’s always like this... It will always be like this...*

His eyes watered again when he remembered how many times he had made a friend and helped them, just to later be shoved away and called a sorcerer, a warlock, the Antichrist... So many times he had asked for confidentiality, and his former friends had betrayed their own word, giving him away to the Church... Just like on New Year's Eve...

Tariq dried his eyes on his coat sleeve, then raised his head again.

*Put yourself together. Commit to what you chose to do, and move on.*

CAW! CAW! CAW!

The prince looked up and saw Munin circling above an area around 100 metres from where they currently were.

*He must have found something dead there...*

The prince swallowed, trying to get the image of Filip out of his head… But at this rate...

*I should prepare myself...*

They had walked for almost an hour, and the old cemetery seemed to have no end. It was an infinite sea of crosses, tombstones, mausoleums, angels, and cloaked crying figures, kneeling with their hands together, perpetually mourning the dead buried below them.

The prince started to run, Mabel flying at his side.

"Munin smells rotten flesh, to the north..."

"I can feel it too..."

"Any sign of him? The one who owns the medicine."

Mabel sighed, staring at the tablets in her minuscule hands.

"There is another presence...feeding on him..."

The prince went pale, staring at her.

*So is he gone? And if there’s someone feeding on him...*

"What do you mean?"

She looked around the cemetery, then floated down until she was in front of Tariq's face.

"He is not alone... I implore you to be careful..."

The prince unsheathed his sword, the faint moonlight reflecting on its blade.

"Well, they’ll eat *this* instead."

"Your emotions are unbalanced, my lord... It's dangerous..."

"I'm fine."

*I have to bring him back, dead or alive. In spite of everything, he was kind to me.*

Now with his senses on high alert, the prince could more easily spot all the other crows flocking around Munin. The crosses and tombs became sparse, now sharing the space with several obelisks as tall as Tariq, and several deciduous trees.

The prince suddenly came upon the looming façade of a ruined cathedral, emerging from behind the bare trees. It stretched at least 25 metres long, divided by three thin ogival windows that had surely been filled with beautiful, colourful stained glass in their days of glory, but were now empty.

He slowed down as he came closer. He soon realised he had entered another cemetery, hidden inside the one at the university. There were several crosses spiking up from the snow, all the same size. He walked a little more and found, in the centre of four graves, an intact Carrara marble statue of the Virgin Mary and the Infant Jesus. It stood just a little taller than him, rising up from a square base.

*These are the remains of a medieval monastery… Why is it abandoned like this if there’s a Christian school so close by?*

The cathedral ruins were from the Middle Ages, most likely built in the 1200s, a period that the scholars called “Gothic”. There were two short flights of stairs covered in snow. In front of the boy, there was an ogival pediment, which he realised if he went under, would take him to the interior of the building. The ridiculously tall ruin was not the façade. It was, indeed, the wall behind the altar.

As soon as the boy took his first steps past the pediment, he felt a wave of dizziness and his legs became weak. When he saw the ground getting closer, he leaned into a column and stuck his sword in the ground to keep from falling.

"My lord...this is cursed land... "

"I've n-noticed."

Tariq's vision was blurring. It was as if all the air in the building was noxious. This energy wasn't one of a typical church, whose aura might be hostile, at most. This one... It was *malefic*. Murderous...

"He's here. And they aren't feeding on him anymore."

Tariq swallowed.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself back upright. Wielding his sword, he strode into the the decayed church.

"Leave, Mabel. You served me well."

"But my lord, I can-"

"Leave. Tell Father about this."

The little imp crossed her hands in front of her, absently lowering her head.

"Yes, Master Tariq."

*********

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