Monster's Genie

The sun filtered through the ornate stained-glass windows of the prestigious stone church of Mror, casting vibrant hues of red, gold, and blue onto the flagstone floor. 

Inside, the benches were packed with devout worshippers. Men, women, and children bowed their heads in reverence, their hands clasped tightly together in prayer. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the low hum of chants, creating an almost tangible aura of devotion.

At the front of the church stood Father Aldric, a man of commanding presence despite his advancing years. His long dark robes, trimmed with intricate embroidery, flowed as he gestured passionately from the pulpit. Behind him, a massive effigy of their deity loomed, carved from dark wood and adorned with candles that flickered in the dim light.

This deity was no other than Solara, the almighty. A deity of well-known renown.

"And so," Father Aldric proclaimed, his deep voice echoing through the chamber, "we offer our lives, our hearts, and our faith to the Great Divine. For it is through unwavering belief that we are granted protection from the darkness that seeks to consume us."

The congregation responded in unison, their voices rising like a wave, "Glory to the Great Divine!"

Father Aldric smiled, his eyes alight with fervour. He raised his hands, signalling for silence. "Brothers and sisters, today we celebrate the blessings bestowed upon us. Let us give thanks and renew our vows to the Divine, who shields us from the evils of this world."

As the priest continued his sermon, the worshippers hung onto his every word. He spoke of trials and triumphs, of faith tested and rewarded. The atmosphere was one of unity and hope, a shared belief in the protection of their deity.

But then, as Father Aldric paused to take a breath, his words faltered. His hand, mid-gesture, froze in the air. A strange, vacant look crossed his face, and his complexion paled. For a moment, he seemed almost lifeless, his mouth slightly agape.

Whispers rippled through the congregation. People exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what was happening. The silence grew heavier, oppressive as if the very air in the church had thickened.

"Father Aldric?" one of the faitful came forward cautiously, stepping closer to the pulpit.

Suddenly, Father Aldric's eyes widened, and a look of sheer terror overtook his features. He staggered back, clutching the edges of the pulpit as if to steady himself.

"The devil!" he shouted, his voice cracking with fear. "The devil is among us!"

A collective gasp erupted from the congregation. Mothers clutched their children tighter, and men rose from their seats, their faces etched with alarm.

"Evil is here!" Father Aldric continued, his voice rising to a frantic pitch. "The shadows stir, and the darkness creeps into this sacred place. The Great Divine, protect us!"

Panic began to spread. People murmured prayers under their breath, while others looked around nervously as if expecting the devil to materialize before them.

"What is he saying?" an elderly woman whispered to her neighbour.

"He must have seen something," the man replied, his voice trembling. "Something terrible."

Father Aldric stumbled away from the pulpit, his hands clutching at his chest. His breathing became erratic, his eyes darting wildly around the room. "No... no! It's here! The evil is here!"

A young woman in the front row stood up, tears streaming down her face. "Father, please! What do you mean? What should we do?"

But the priest did not answer. With a final, anguished cry, he collapsed to the ground.

"Father Aldric!" someone screamed.

Chaos erupted. People surged forward, crowding around the fallen priest. Children cried, their wails adding to the cacophony of panicked voices. The once orderly church was now a scene of utter turmoil.

"Make way!" a woman's voice rang out, cutting through the din. It was Sister Eli, one of the church's healers blessed with element of Vitalis. She pushed through the throng, her face pale but determined. Kneeling beside the priest, she placed a hand on his forehead and felt for a pulse.

Her eyes widened in horror, and her hands began to tremble. She looked up at the crowd, her voice barely a whisper but filled with dread. "He's... he's dead."

The words hung in the air like a death knell. The gasps and cries of the congregation seemed to reverberate off the stone walls. People clung to each other, their faces masks of shock and disbelief.

"No, it can't be," someone muttered. "Father Aldric was protected by the Divine. How could this happen?"

"What does it mean?" another voice asked, trembling with fear. "If the devil can strike him down, what hope do we have?"

Sister Elara's hands hovered over the priest's still form, her lips moving in a silent prayer. Tears streamed down her face as she turned to the crowd. "We must remain calm. Panic will only give strength to the darkness."

"Calm?" a man shouted, his voice laced with hysteria. "The priest is dead! The devil is here! We're doomed!"

***

It had been a few days since the Mror incident. Three royal knights from the Principality of Ared, summoned by the High Priest, now stood before the grand doors of Montor's cathedral. Their orders from the king were clear: assist the church in investigating the strange occurrences plaguing its holy grounds.

The three knights, Sir Bucha Marol, Sir Roswald Persiwal, and Dame Rosalind Everstar, exchanged uneasy glances. Rumors had spread across the principality about worshippers going mad during prayer, speaking in tongues, or collapsing into fits of hysteria. Some whispered of cursed relics or demonic influence, while others suspected more earthly causes.

"What do you make of it, Dame Rosalind?" asked Sir Bucha, his heavy armor clinking as he adjusted his daggers. His voice was deep and steady, but his furrowed brow betrayed his concern.

Rosalind, her long red hair tied in a braid that flowed over her silver-plated armor, frowned thoughtfully. "If you ask me, it's too widespread to be mere coincidence. It could be some kind of poison or drug, seeping into the church's sanctuaries. We'll need to investigate thoroughly."

Sir Roswald, a wiry man with sharp eyes and a quick wit, nodded. "Agreed. And if someone is spreading such a substance, we'll root them out. The people are terrified enough as it is."

The heavy doors creaked open, revealing the dimly lit interior of the cathedral. The scent of incense was overpowering, and the flickering candlelight cast unsettling shadows on the walls. At the far end, near the statue of Solara the Almighty, a man crouched, trembling and pale as death. It was the High Priest.

The knights approached, their boots echoing against the stone floor. As they drew near, the High Priest looked up, his eyes wild and filled with terror.

"You've come at last," he rasped, clutching at the hem of Rosalind's cloak. "It's here. The great evil. The devil himself walks among us."

Sir Bucha's expression hardened. "Calm yourself, Your Holiness. Tell us what you've seen."

The High Priest shook his head violently. "It's not what I've seen but what I feel! The air is thick with corruption. The shadows move. And the king..." He glared at the knights. "He sends only three of you? Three, to face such a menace? He should summon every soldier in the principality!"

"With respect, Your Holiness," Rosalind said coolly, "we need more than numbers. We need clarity. Tell us everything you know."

But the High Priest only muttered incoherently, his fingers trembling as he clung to the statue of Solara. "The devil... the devil..."

Sir Roswald sighed, exchanging a weary glance with Bucha. "This is getting us nowhere."

Rosalind knelt, placing a firm hand on the priest's shoulder. "We'll look into this. Rest assured, we'll do everything in our power to uncover the truth. But for now, you must compose yourself. Fear will only weaken the faithful."

The High Priest gave a weak nod, his muttering subsiding. The knights bowed to him and turned to leave, each offering a final reverent bow to the towering effigy of Solara before stepping out into the crisp evening air.

As they walked through the quiet streets of Montor, Rosalind spoke first. "This madness must have a source. We'll need to investigate the churches and question the clergy. If it's a substance causing this, we'll find it."

"And we should increase the city's security while we're at it," Bucha added. "If people hear of the High Priest's condition, panic will spread like wildfire."

Roswald smirked faintly. "Looks like we've got our work cut out for us. Let's hope this really is just a case of poison or drugs. Anything else..." He trailed off, his expression darkening.

Rosalind placed a hand on the hilt of her sword, her eyes narrowing. "Anything else, and we'll deal with it. For Solara and the people of Ared."

The knights continued down the cobbled streets, their minds weighed down by the mystery before them and the ominous warnings of the High Priest.