Höbin's Last Discovery
Once and for all, Höbin Luckyfeller will put the fables and assumptions to rest with cold, hard facts!
Demoni Vankil is the historical and award-winning work of Höbin Luckyfeller, and the precursor to Chronicles of a Hero.
An ancient puzzle box.
Fourteen letters.
A Council of Whispers.
…and a clerk.
Discover the 700 year old secret millions died to protect.
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Höbins Last Discovery
These letters sent me to far lands over the course of two years, putting together one of the greatest puzzles in my career.
I grew very fond of this Eamon, from Tildan. In the end, I travelled to Andilain once more and gained permission directly from King Robert III to study the records of the Church.
I had missed something.
I took a few days to remember that the Church requested me to supervise a kirk excavation site decades ago. I forgot to access the most obvious resources available to me: the Brotherhood. The records are independent from the rest of the world and protected by the power of the crown.
It was the law that for anyone condemned to die, a priest of the Brotherhood would be present to be a witness and record all that was done.
Mahan did not die, but he was being condemned…which meant there was most likely a priest present and recording during the event.
I was feeling embarrassed.
Could it actually be this simple? To quench the burning desire to know how Mahan, the greatest evil of all, had been bound and exiled. And to piece together the fragments of a life which had become a friend to me. A friend by the name of Eamon.
Brother Owens’ journal states:
“Old age has come too soon for me. I fear that this request of Queen Älodiä may be my last opportunity to serve her. Alas, King Gaston is dead. I administered to his burial myself. I am old and worn and unable to be the man I once was, but still I stand by our Queen in this mournful hour in defiance of darkness.”
“They gathered us around the Prime Gate in Andilain. Being created first it is the strongest. There are none here who are unnecessary to the ritual. Mahan is in the center of the platform. None may stand near the prisoner, only the Gnolaum and the mägo, exerting their powers to keep the devil quiet and still.”
“There is an older man, pale, withered and hunched in a red robe, working with the Kutollum in stoking a fire just aside the steps of the Gate. There are three irons in the fire. We wait in hushed silence for the man in red to begin.”
“The Dark Lord struggles and cries out to the Gnolaum, ‘Would you curse a wayward friend?’”
“I do not understand, but it took aback the Gnolaum as the Dark Lord laughs.”
“The man in red looked to me as he took one iron from the fire. ‘I am ready.’”
“I ask if he would like to have his name recorded. He said ‘no’.”
“Two Kutollum take the other irons from the fire and we follow the man in red up the stairs and to the devil’s side. He examines the iron in his hands and then leans down to the devil’s ear and I am forced to follow.”
“‘For this moment, I have sacrificed all I have ever had to give.’ And without hesitation, he thrust the burning iron into the devil’s forehead, chanting words I cannot recall or identify.”
“The hysterical laughter turns to screams as the man in red leans in hard. A scream which rends the very fabric of nature. I can smell the stench of burning flesh.”
“Trees within the courtyard split in twain and the ground rocks and trembles. The Gnolaum calls out to the man in red but he was unmoving. I question if this is really necessary. He only smiles as he pulls the iron from the wound, casts it aside and holds out an open hand to the Kutollum.”
“I am stunned to see the flesh completely burned away, and the marks seared into bone.”
“The Dark Lord’s screams grow with each touch until I fear the world will rip asunder. Three times is the devil branded thus, but as the third mark penetrates the devil’s flesh, silence falls upon us. The ground is still. Though evil thrashes, eyes wide in pain and terror, he cannot scream.”
“The Prime Gate is opened when the Gnolaum speaks the words. Through the portal, I can see only darkness. The devil’s body rises from the altar, an invisible force pulling him violently into the void, still restrained by chains.”
“The man in red whispers so only the devil and I can hear: ‘From darkness you came, to darkness you will return.’”
“With a snap of his fingers, the chains of the altar release their captive. They cast the contorted body of Mahan into the darkness, his eyes wide with a terror I cannot even imagine.”
“The Gnolaum closes the gate, and all is silent. There are no cheers, no laughter, not a sound of nature.”
“We have ended the war, and we have defeated the enemy. I turned to speak peace unto the man in red, but he was walking away. I never saw him again.”
So where did Eamon go?
I could only assume to find Ethany and the children, which would lead to the kirk excavation.
It wasn’t long before I located the personal journal of the priest of the kirk in question. There was a note on the box from the Church that caught my eye:
“Contents: Journal of Brother Drydan, Book of Songs, Laws of The Brotherhood, …one red puzzle box (missing)”
Woops.
Brother Drydan.
He seemed determined to have his journals endure. I say this because they committed none of his records to paper but on brass sheets bound by simple metal rings.
Interesting, maybe clever. Probably a former blacksmith.
Anyway, I didn’t find what I thought I would.
“An old man, soaked and shivering in dirty red robes, was turned face down and nearly frozen to death, not more than a hundred feet from my doorstep.”
“Oh, that I would have heard him! Seen him! I could have saved him. Throughout the night, I prayed and worked to break his fever, but it would not. Death was determined to have him. May the Gods bless his soul for the sufferings he must have endured along this long road alone and away from his loved ones.”
“It is rarely that circumstances prevent me from keeping my vow, for I know not his name and in this I am tormented. He clung to a small red box as if his soul were contained, and only whispered 'Ethany' from his lips.”
“So I have done what I can. His body was prepared and buried, but not without a stone. I cannot bear to lay him to rest without a name, and so I place upon his stone, ‘He who loves Ethany’ in the hope that the Gods will have mercy on his soul…and mine.”
“I tried to open the box he clung to, but was unable. I can hear the contents inside, and so I will send it on to those wiser than I to discover its fate.”
That was it. The end of the path.
Eamon was alone in the end and had the box and was the one who ended up at the kirk.
Before I returned home, I traveled south to the original excavation site. The hole where we dug was now a fishing pond, filled in by the overflow from the river. There were no gravestones to look at, so I walked the land for a spell and ended up resting under a large cottonwood tree, the red puzzle box turning in my hands. This was a disturbing end. My hands absentmindedly slid the pieces randomly across the surface.
The bottom of the box popped open.
…there was a locket, two small bracelets and a folded, fragile letter.
It had the red wax stains of a royal seal.
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Paid subscribers can access the entire archive of this series from the beginning, along with other stories and every article I’ve ever written. If you aren’t a paid subscriber, you can access the archive for free with a 7-day trial OR earn a paid membership by joining the referral program!
Almost missed this one somehow. but I’m glad I came back to it.
So as far as we know Ethany never received the letters? That’s... tragic.
So tragic. What a powerful scene at the condemning as well!