A Quest for Sweet Suffering: Chapter 1 – Starting at the Destination

Chapter 1 – Starting at the Destination

A lone young man walks out of a crimson mist with a black serrated mace that he holds with a bloodied hand. He walks forward into a desolate town without looking around as if knowing for sure where he is going and that there are no dangers around him. As he walks through the streets, most people are startled by his appearance while others scoff since they already know where he’s from just by his bloodied appearance and chilling doll-like mask alone. The young man makes his way into a bar and takes a seat at one of the tables in the corner. He has the attention of everyone in the bar all of whom look and whisper about him.

One of the waiters hesitantly approaches him and asks, “Could I get you anything, sir?”

“No, thank you,” the young man says.

“No water or bread?”

“Nothing, please. I’m just here to wait for someone.”

“Okay,” the waiter quietly says before walking away.

A group of three people in the bar then sit with the young man.

“What’s a guy like you from Onocrotalus doing here?” one of them asks.

“To do God’s will,” the young man answers.

“Aren’t we all? What’s your name?”

“Astorath.”

“Right. You’re a man of few words, aren't you?”

“I usually am unless I have to deliver a message.”

“I see, I see. I’ve never talked to one of the people from your kingdom. Truth be told, it’s as if I’m talking to a living legend, or somewhat living. Honestly, how can you live with all those cuts on your right arm and your hand constantly bleeding? You can take your hands off the mace, you know. You’re among humble folk.”

“These cuts and constant bleeding are a penance for the sins of the whole world.”

“Yeah? Is it true that your entire kingdom is blessed with Stigmata and that you’re born with it?”

“We are.”

The three look at each other with concern.

“I can’t imagine how it must be to live with that pain for your entire life.”

“We from Onocrotalus get used to it. Besides, it’s a blessing.”

“You don’t seem too blessed with that crimson crown of thorns, cuts all over your arm, that bleeding hand that’s holding your mace, and that mask of yours. Why do people like you wear it anyway?”

“It’s another part of our penance. Each mask represents a sin that we do penance for whether it be ours or someone else’s.”

“What does your mask represent? Is it your sin?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve been so open to us so far. Why keep this from us? We won’t judge you if the mask represents your sin. We’re all devout Catholics guilty of some sin. I know that I have to confess later this week for sins of my own.”

Astorath looks around the room as if aware of some danger and then gets up with his mace even more firmly gripped in his bleeding hand. The three sitting with him are unsure what to do or say to him and choose to simply watch. Everyone else in the bar is now refocused on him as he walks around while looking around the room. He comes to a sudden stop before looking at the floor. In the blink of an eye, a ratman emerges from the floor just as Astorath lifts and brings down his mace to kill the half-man, half-rat monstrosity.

Seeing the ratman scares everyone in the bar who then go to the guards to immediately mobilize them since seeing one ratman means that there are more nearby, and sure enough, more start coming out of the ground and dark hiding places to attack, eat, and kidnap the town’s population. These ratmen are armed with rusty daggers and short swords and clothed in dirty rags. Some of them have armor and weapons that are in better condition that were stolen from the town’s armory and some are as tall as men, if not taller and more muscular with more humanlike faces than the others. While this is happening, Astorath is taking care of the ratmen that emerge from under the floors of the bar and holes in the ground that appear too small for them to fit through, and yet, a seemingly endless number of them keeps coming. Everyone around him is doing their best to not get in the way or help out by fighting with spears and swords that the bartender keeps in the event of a bandit or ratman attack, though what they have doesn’t seem to be enough.

As Astorath’s right arm begins to bleed, he begins to conjure his blood magic. He then says, “Enough of this,” before striking the ground with the palm of his right hand and making the ground beneath the town floor with blood. The ratmen underground are drowned and flushed out and those that are above ground near the holes are stabbed by tendrils formed by the blood. Soon after, the entire town is cleansed of the ratman threat and the blood that was bursting from the ground subsides along with Astorath’s bleeding. Walking out into the streets of the town, Astorath is met with thanks and cheers from its inhabitants though he is not celebrating at all, and looks around as if there’s still a threat remaining.

“What is it? Are there more coming?” a concerned townsfolk asks.

Despite the concerns and questions of the people of the town, Astorath keeps quiet and walks around looking for something. That particular something comes bursting out of the ground. It is a multiheaded ratman with muscles greater than those that any man could obtain and faces that look uncannily human despite also appearing like a rat. It immediately punches Astorath’s head clean off and then violently tears his body into pieces before yelling out a terrifying cry of victory. Half of the townsfolk run away, others are frozen in fear, and few hold their weapons firm despite wanting to flee.

“Surrender and we may allow you to live as our slaves, or better yet, turn you into one of us,” the large mutated ratman says.

A few of the townsfolk fall to their knees in surrender while others are still unsure of what to do or are still willing to fight. One of Astorath’s hands starts twitching and then one of his legs. His head starts rolling around and his blood that’s spread around begins to stir as his body and limbs lift themselves up in the air before forming themselves in the shape of his original body, but taller with his limbs and head connected to his body only by his blood that visibly flows between them like strands of wire. Seeing this fills the townsfolk with hope and the mutated ratman with confusion who goes to try to kill him again, however, this time, it is unable to land a hit on Astorath as his limbs fly in the area to avoid all its attacks. Blood comes out of Astorath’s right hand and into the ratman drowning it and making blood burst out of each part of its body.

“Repent, if you still can,” Astorath says to the ratman before it explodes into pieces and a mass of blood.

Now that the fight is over Astorath’s body reforms itself back into what it once was. After recovering from the sight of it all, the townsfolk cheer and thank God and Astorath who is walking away from them.

One of the townsfolk asks him, “Why don’t you stay? We need a protector like you and we need to repay you for saving us.”

“Send a messenger to the Church’s authority about what happened here and they’ll send troops here to defend you and help you get back those who were kidnapped,” Astorath says.

“We’ve asked for their help before and you’ve seen that we’ve had to defend ourselves.”

“They’ll send troops this time now that you have proof of God’s favor and that the ratmen have interest in this town. Also, it is God who you must thank and give praise to for saving you. Not me.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Continue on my path of penance as always.”

A crimson mist suddenly appears in front of Astorath, filling the townsfolk with unease. They watch as he walks into it and disappears, and no matter how much they search, they can’t manage to find him. Afterward, they do as Astorath said and the Church does send troops to set up in the town. The townsfolk also give greater praise to God and spread the story of what happened here throughout the Church’s territories.