The Calm Before the Storm

It was a bright night in Hermosville, the full moon out in its glory, casting rays of reflected sunlight down into the city. Nestled in the outer region of the city was Southside Haven, a district of dilapidated buildings and crumbling infrastructure, backed by the most resilient people. The Narrows, the district of the disenfranchised and downtrodden, stood on the city's border proper, neighboring Southside Haven. East of both districts was Wharton State Forest, the largest in New Jersey. 

On the edge of the forest, westward, stood a three-story building of bare concrete. It resembled the castles of yesteryear, fashioned with modern technology. High fences surrounded the castle, with watch towers stationed at strategic points. This was the new home of the Knights of Arixxer after it became certain that demons were here to stay in Hermosville.

Deep in the castle's basement, a ritual took place. The lights were dim, originating from oil lamps, the scent of burning incense wafting around. A cauldron of boiling water sat in the middle of the room. Five knights in off-duty wear sat cross-legged in a circle around the cauldron. Persia Gemellianus sat amongst them, her head bowed and eyes closed. They sat in silence while a priest, adorned in robes of Arixxer's colors, black and red, stood before the steaming cauldron. Pools of sweat dripped down his face, his arms spread afar as he recited a prayer.

"Great Arixxer, eternal lord and master, I humbly beseech thee to bless this humble vessel of water with thy divine radiance. Let the purity of this essence of life be a reflection of thy sacred glory.

"Bless this holy water with the ability to cleanse and purify that which has been tainted by wickedness. Let it be a shining beacon of thy eternal dominion over all of creation."

Circles lit ablaze on the stone floor around each knight, in response to the priest's prayers and as they too channeled their inner faith, given to them the day they became one of Arixxer. Then, from each burning circle, blue fire departed in a straight line toward the cauldron. Soon after, the boiling water swirled like a whirlpool and shone a rich blue, the purification process beginning.

The knights recited in unison, The Rime of Sanctification. "I pledge my eternal fealty to thee, great Arixxer. May this holy water be a testament to my devotion and a tool to further thy divine will. So let it be written, so let it be done, in thy most sacred and hallowed name."

They recited the prayer over and over until the priest signaled the end of the ritual, satisfied with the result.

After the ritual, most knights departed while Persia drew closer to the cauldron. The water had become murky, almost taking on a silver shine that hid its depths. With arms folded, she gazed into the water, her rippling reflection gazing back. When a knight brought trays of glass vials, the priest spread his arms afar again, his eyes shining blue. Streams of the holy water shot out of the cauldron and entered the glass vials. Persia watched the process, absent-minded.

"If you stare long enough at the holy water, it just might have the answers to your questions," the priest said after finishing the first batch.

She chuckled. "Somehow I doubt that, Theodore. Even if I wait a thousand years."

The priest let loose a short laugh, wiping his sweaty face with a hankie. "So what's got you troubled, Persia? I have seen you face battalions of demons by yourself. I can't imagine anything in Hermosville being so troubling."

"I worry not about this city even though the air fills different, I must admit. It is the eternal master who troubles me."

The smile drained from Theodore's face.

"Let me clarify," she continued. "It is the absence of the eternal master that worries me so."

"Persia, exercise caution with your next words. We were taught to have faith in his—"

"Faith is not something I'm lacking, Theodore." Her stern gaze made him tense. "Need I remind you, I spearheaded a holy crusade before your forefathers were but a thought. As the high priest, when was the last time Arixxer spoke to you or used you as a conduit?"

Theodore dabbed at his sweat-caked forehead, nervously. "I continue to receive the eternal master's grace till this—"

"I'm not talking about his faith. We all receive that. Otherwise, we couldn't carry out his doctrine. I mean his direct word."

"About a century, give or take. That's the last I've heard his word."

"Hmm." Persia cupped her jaw, gazing at the holy water once more. That revelation matched her own experience. Arixxer, the one true God, had been very active in her life. She still remembered the first time he graced her with his divine presence. The Carthaginians had ransacked her small village, abducting her, her sisters, and many other young Roman girls. Through the forest, they were hauled like priced cattle and used in the night more brutally than common slaves. Her sisters didn't make it. However, that was beside the point. On the tenth day, during a fierce rainstorm, he appeared, riding the sky in divine machinery she couldn't hope to comprehend. The Carthaginians stood no chance, shackled by their mortal limits, as Arixxer rained down death upon them.

Since that day, after his blessing, and the devotion of her unwavering faith, Arixxer had kept in touch through his messengers, always guiding and prodding her and the Knight Order to do his bidding. Then, without warning, his influence vanished a hundred years ago. It left her empty and with questions she had no answers to, as well as a sense of impending doom.

Peter Hodson, her second in command, in full gear, descended the stairs and trotted over to her. He handed her a phone. "Mason is on the line."

"What is it?" she said, with the phone pressed to her ear.

"Good evening, ma'am," Mason said. "How's the weather in Hermosville? Chilly with the stink of the harbor, I take it?"

"Get to the point. Or else you'll have to come here to get me again after I end this call."

He sighed. "Ok, the point, eh? Head on over to Allentown, about seventy miles west of your location."

"Why? What's going on?"

"A crime scene. Multiple homicides. Only, it carries the distinct signature of our infernal friends. Rendezvous with my team at Tilghman Street. You can't miss it."

Her hands tightened on the phone. "Do not touch anything. I'll be right there."

After the call, she told Peter to ready the knights before rushing off to her room to prepare. By the time she descended to the grand lobby, a contingent of thirty battle-ready knights stood at attention. She chose five to accompany her, while the rest remained on high alert.

On her way outside to where the SUV waited, she stopped and turned to Peter. "You will stay back."

His brows furrowed. "Can I ascertain the reason as to why? "

"I need someone I can trust to stay back to handle any issues that may arise." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Keep everyone on high alert. Ever since I've stepped foot in this country, something's felt off."

Peter nodded, planting his foot as she and the rest of the knights shuffled into the SUV.

❊ ❊ ❊

Light winds rolled in from the ocean, across the Victorian-era, brick buildings of Old Town, bringing the scent of saltwater and the screeches of seagulls. Cars crawled, piled up in the narrow streets of the historic district as people were eager to commute in the wee hours of the morning. In a black sedan, a lanky man with greasy hair sat behind the wheel, drumming his fingers on the ledge beside his window, as the honks of impatient drivers rattled off around him. A young girl with jet-black hair matching his sat beside him on the passenger's side, her gaze focused outside the window.

To fill in the stark silence, he fiddled with the radio.

"... interrupt our regular programming with breaking news. Reports have just come in that notorious mobster Declan O'Malley, criminal mastermind and a high-ranking member of The Black Book, escaped prisoner transport earlier this week in Camden, hours after he, along with his assailants, had been found in violation of the RICO act. We urge all residents to remain vigilant and exercise caution. Declan O'Malley is considered extremely dangerous, and if you see anything suspicious or have any information regarding their whereabouts—"

He switched off the radio, sighing. There was no need to breed more fear into his little girl. However, a quick glimpse told him her attention lay elsewhere.

"Figure you'd tell me what's got you so interested," he said.

And as was customary, she didn't answer. Not out of anger directed at him or negligence. She simply hadn't heard him, as she stated many times, so engrossed in the vivid visuals of her imagination.

He let it sit for a while, then he tapped her shoulder. "Augie. Sweetie, now's not the time. This is the last time I see you for the week, remember?"

The girl started like a ghost had announced its presence. She looked up at him; her eyes the faintest blue, as if the clear summer sky gazed at him.

"Sorry Dad," she said, patting down her navy blue skirt. "Lily was showing me something."

Her voice tapered into a meek whisper the longer she talked.

The traffic moved a smudge, but a car swerved over into his lane. He stifled any curses rearing to escape his lips since his daughter was present.

"What did she show you?" he asked.

"Eh, I'd rather not say, Dad." She hid her face.

"Come on, Sweetie. Hit me with it. I'm sure I can take it."

She let out a nervous breath. "She was making fun of Tom. And his beer belly. And…" she snickered, unable to continue.

"Augie, you know what I said about Lily's antics. No—"

"No mean jokes about people. I know daddy. But it's Tom we're talking about."

He shook his head. "I don't care who he is, Augie. Tom is still your mother's boyfriend. You and Lily will not disrespect him. Have I made myself clear?"

She sank into her seat, folding her arms and scrunching her face. "And he's a pompous arse," she mumbled.

He heard her, yet chose to ignore her words.

It turned out to be an accident that caused the lengthy hold-up. And a horrific one at that, the road covered with pools of blood and swarmed by an army of paramedics. He stepped on the gas, leaving the scene behind.

"Can I come home with you today, after school?" she asked.

His heart arched, and a knot formed in his throat.

"Please, daddy. I'd rather stay with you."

"You can't Augie. The deal is Mondays to Wednesdays with me and the rest of the week with your mother. I can't break that. I'm sorry."

"But I want to stay with you. Why don't my opinions matter?"

His heart truly arched, burning a hole in his chest. Still, there was little he could do. He stopped the car by the drop-off section at River Bend Middle School.

The sour expression on her face had remained constant during the latter half of their commute. It was still there as she grabbed her bag and popped the door open.

"Don't forget, Sunday evening, we'll head down to the arena. You'll show me your new moves."

She nodded.

"Love you, sweetie."

"Love you, Dad."

He tightened his fists around the steering wheel, glaring at his reflection in the rearview mirror. After confirming his daughter had safely entered the building, he put the car in drive and stepped on the pedal.