Order of the Shattered Cross: Pt. 05

The priest's sermon was formulated around the concept of loneliness. God is always with you was the ending. Michelle found that rather predictable. She didn't form in line for communion. For communion, one needed to be in a state of grace, free of mortal or grave sin. Michelle felt her very existence was a sin.

Most of the parishioners had departed, leaving only a few who spoke with each other or remained for confessional. Was it even worth the time? A demon spawn confessing to a priest? Does God truly forgive all to those who seek forgiveness? Was there any salvation for the abomination that was Michelle Frost?

More out of routine than genuine belief, Michelle sat in the confessional booth and waited for the door on the other side to close. She didn't hear it, but she saw a form behind the screen and began with the Sign of the Cross as she had done a thousand times before.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession."

"What are your sins my child," the Father replied. It was not the same priest who had conducted the sermon. This man sounded older with a foreign accent. She wasn't sure where, but she had a good ear for accents and thought it was German.

"I am currently suffering a crisis of faith," Michelle admitted. "Hard to discern by looking at me, but I am actually a Sister."

"I discerned that the moment you sat in that back pew," the Father said, and Michelle looked at the screen between them. "You are far from the first Sister, or Father, to falter in their beliefs. What is the cause of this crisis of devotion?"

"I don't even know how to begin explaining that."

"It's easier than you think. Beginning is easy. Stopping is easy. Continuing, now that's the challenge," the Father said, and Michelle sighed.

"I was orphaned at birth. My mother died, and my father wasn't present. I had no family to speak of and went through my entire childhood at an orphanage in Boston. Yesterday, I found out more about my family, and I can't reconcile what I learned. I'm the offspring of rape. I spent my entire life feeling resentment, and pity for my mother, and I never once considered why I was even conceived. I know I was unwanted. If I was conceived a few years later, I probably would have been aborted. How do I reconcile the fact that I shouldn't have even been born?"

"What sin did you commit when you were conceived?" the Father asked.

"That's not the point," Michelle replied. To Michelle, the issue was greater than that.

"But it is. You came here to confess your sins, but thus far you've only expressed a crisis of faith every servant of God has felt or will feel at least once in their lifetime. So, I ask again, what sin have you committed?"

"I am the sin."

"Sin is within man, but it is not, man."

"Shame I'm a woman."

"Sister, what sin did you commit when you conceived?" The Father was not letting that question go.

"My father was a demon."

"That doesn't make you one."

"It makes me half of one. Oh, and my mother was a witch. Double whammy."

"Yet you chose to be a Sister?" the Father asked.

"That was before I knew I was a demon witch." Demon. Witch. Exorcist? There was something horribly contradictory about that.

"And God accepted you regardless."

Michelle was an exorcist. She had successfully given last rights to wandering spirits. Only a true warrior of God could do that. God had to have known what she was, and still permitted her vows to be legitimate.

"I wasn't always a Father," he began. "I came to this life rather late. I had an entire life before this. I was originally from Germany. Wurzburg to be precise. The cross I wear was handed down for generations, father to son, until it was mine. In the 30s, a man began to accumulate power, and my family felt uneasy. He spoke with ferocity, and passion, and anger. People loved the passion and ignored the anger, or believed it justified. My family immigrated to the United States, and three years later, Hitler started another war.

"I didn't need to be drafted. I volunteered and enlisted to fight for America. 10^th Mountain Division, in Italy and Sicily. I saw much combat. I truly don't know how many were slain by my hands. It is on the sides of those cliffs and atop those mountains I found God. After the war I joined the Church. After the war I traveled to Italy again. To see a woman, I had known when I was on leave in Milan shortly after the war. Like I said, I had a different life. On her hip was a baby girl, at just the right age. That was my crisis of faith. Believe me, an Italian woman will make you question many things."

Michelle laughed a little. She was enthralled. Everyone had a story. Even Priests. Sometimes the best stories came from those we expected it from the least.

"What happened?" Michelle asked.

"I continued my life as a priest. Even now, I'm not entirely sure I did the right thing. Did I devote myself to God, or did I use him as a cloak to run away from my responsibilities as a man? I sent money when I had it. And letters when I could. Money and words on paper cannot replace presence. We all have regrets. I acknowledge mine, and they bring me agony in ways I hardly have strength to bear."

"What do I do Father?" Michelle asked.

"What you've always done Sister. You found your way to God; you can find your way back. My words will not ease the pain of your parentage. It is likely, nothing will. What happened to your mother is abhorrent, and your early life was a tragedy, but never feel that you are the tragedy. Your penance, if you require one, is that every time this thought crosses your mind, speak serenity. Do you understand what I mean?"

Michelle closed her eyes and slowly spoke the words. "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

"Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good," the Father concluded.

"For his mercy endures forever," Sister Frost replied. She released a calm breath, and left the booth, slowly closing the door behind her. To her surprise Timothy was sitting on the pew closest to the booths.

"I got here as you were entering the booth," Timothy said and stood up.

"How'd you know I was here?" Sister Frost asked.

"You're a nun and it's Sunday. Educated guess," Timothy replied and gestured toward the booth. "Did you get tired of waiting?"

"I just finished actually," she said with a warm smile. "I didn't expect peace in there, but I feel, better."

"Huh," Timothy replied, and he saw the confusion in her expression. "Nothing, I guess a priest was already in there," he said, not having seen anyone enter. "Ready to go?"

"Do we know where we're going?" she asked.

"For now, breakfast, then we'll figure out the rest."

Sister Frost nodded in agreement and followed him out of the cathedral. She stopped to look at the booth one last time and turned around to leave. If she had gazed for another few seconds, she would have seen a priest entering the empty confessional.

--

Breakfast was a diner just off the highway while driving south with no destination in mind. Where they needed to go wasn't on a map. It wasn't even of this world. It was another world entirely. Eden.

Timothy ordered black coffee, scrambled eggs, and toast. The Sister ordered pancakes with a side of sausage and a hardboiled egg. This diner's menu was a sheet of paper with a picture on the back. The Sister couldn't help herself and began to color with the crayons she found in a coffee cup next to the salt and pepper.

"How exactly do we get to Eden?" Sister Frost asked as she traced the crayon along the inner edge of the line. She had returned to her habit and veil, wearing it with devotion and purpose again.

"No idea," Timothy replied. "Maiden?"

"It's been quite some time since I've been. You've been more recent than I," the maiden said, sitting on the end of the table next to the window. Sister Frost looked between them. "Oh yeah, when the Void was killing him, somehow, his soul was sent to Eden where he conversed with my aunt. Who is also my grandmother."

"I'm sorry, what?" Sister Frost asked as her pancakes were placed in front of her. "Thank you."

"My mother is Lilith, and my father is Cain. Lilith and Eve are sisters, and Cain is Eve's son. My aunt is my grandmother," the maiden explained.

"I get that part," Sister Frost exclaimed.

"That's the least confusing part to you?" Timothy asked but wasn't heard by either of them.

"He went to Eden, and talked to Eve? Like, the first woman? Wife of Adam?" Sister Frost asked.

"Lilith and Eve were created at the same time, Adam just met Eve first," the maiden clarified.

"I'm still trying to figure out how and why, but yes," Timothy confirmed to Sister Frost while ignoring the maidens comment.

"How do we get you to go there again?" Sister Frost asked.

"We can get the Void to come back. Keep trying what we know works," the maiden said sarcastically.

"How about, no," Timothy replied. "This is beyond me."

"Do you know anyone this isn't beyond?" Sister Frost asked.

"There are some witches who can do doorways to hell, that's not impossible. Heaven is a little trickier. Doorways need to be open on both sides, and heaven is usually invitation only. Hell is always open for business. Eden? That's something else entirely," Timothy explained. The Sister looked confused, so he took her crayon and flipped another menu over.

"There are four realms, each thoroughly traveled. The mundane, our world," he said and drew one circle in brown. "Heaven", he said, drawing another circle that partly overlapped the first in blue. "Hell." This circle he drew in red, creating a Venn Diagram. "The space connecting all three is the between. That's where stuff goes bump in the night," he said, filling in the overlapping portion in yellow. "Eden in theory would have to be a realm all its own. A fifth realm."

The Sister examined the art for a moment. Her face scrunched in thought.

"What if you're wrong?" Sister Frost asked. "I mean, you highlighted the intersection and call that the between. But what is it between?"

"All the other realms," Timothy replied matter of fact.

"Between means two. Something between, two things. What if..." the Sister began to highlight the spaces where only two circles intersected in purple. "...what if these are the between, and the intersection of all three is Eden."

"What's outside of the circles?" the maiden asked in the tone of leading question.

"Nothing," Timothy answered. "Just the Void. The opposite of nothing is everything. If this is nothing," Timothy said while pointing outside of the circle. He then pointed to the center. "Then this is everything."

"That's where you find Eden," Sister Frost said with a smile. "How do we get there?"

"We need an expert on doorways, and I know one. That's also the problem."

"Nora?" Sister Frost asked.

"Worse. Indigo," Timothy sighed. "Glad I didn't kill her."

"Do you really think she'll help us?" the maiden asked.

"I do, but someone really won't like that she did."

"Nora?" Sister Frost repeated and received a nod in reply. "Is Nora that unreasonable?"

"Your ignorance is adorable," the maiden giggled. "Nora is a zealot in her devotion to the Confederacy. Assuming we can prevent Nora from finding out, how do we even find Indigo again? Chances are she's actively making sure she's safe from all intrusion."

"I know. That's part one. We need to work two problems at once. We still have to find Angelica. Unfortunately, the person who likely knows where she is, is Nora..." Timothy began before he his vision blurred. Everything in front of him instantly began to appear as if the room was extending away from him. "...you fucking bit..." he started to say immediately before he and the maiden vanished from the table in the blink of an eye.

"Sir?" Sister Frost while looking around frantically.

--

Enchantments are what most witches consider to be highly advanced magic. Anything can be enchanted with enough skill and experience. A stone can be enchanted to skip across the water and never sink, so long as the correct conditions are in place. The stone must be flat. The stone must be thrown and impact the water on the flat side. The water itself must be calm.

Anything can be enchanted. Anything. Physical, or even metaphysical. One with enough talent can enchant the very air to make the temperature always cool. Even words can be enchanted. But not just any word. Proper nouns work best.

The word the, is far too vague to hold meaning. The name Nora is full of meaning. For Timothy that word is full of memories too. When he says Nora, he imagines a beautiful woman with blue lips and dyed bangs over her face. He remembers her in his bed. He also remembers her finding out her sister was in that bed as well. When he says Nora, he sees one specific thing. One specific person. That specificity makes the name Nora enchantable.

The conditions still matter. Enchantments, while powerful, are not broad in their application. He must mean his Nora. He must be speaking about her, not to her. He must speak her name without prompt, meaning he must not be answering a question about her. If all those conditions are met, and he says her name, the enchantment activates. No matter where Timothy Augustine is on this Earth, he will be pulled to her.

From Timothy's perspective, it felt like being pulled by a rope through a keyhole. His body compressed and slipped through the world like an octopus pushing its body through something impossibly small. He moved so fast colors and objects blurred past as streaks of light. When he began to slow down, his body compensated like a car slamming on its brakes to avoid an imminent collision.

Timothy reappeared but still retained some of his momentum. He tumbled across the floor of an unknown space before his back slammed into a wall. The impact stole all the air from his lungs. He coughed harshly, groaning in pain, as he crawled a few feet before trying to push himself up, but couldn't muster the strength from the dizzying experience.

"Well, this is awkward," Timothy heard a distorted voice say. He turned his head toward it, and saw three shapes on a bed, all sitting up to look at him. As his vision cleared, he saw blue hair and lipstick, and two shocked women, younger than the first. "Give us the room."

The two women left the bed naked and placed on silk robes, one pink, the other white. They tied them off at the waist and stepped out of the room barefoot and closed the door behind them. The room was beginning to correct itself, and Timothy was finally able to get to his feet, but still wobbled to his side and caught himself on the wall.

"You certainly have timing," Nora said, covering her naked body in a sapphire blue silk robe and lightly tying it off. Her cleavage was presented, and the bottom of the robe was a minor adjustment away from revealing everything.

"You have a lot of fucking nerve," Timothy grunted out. He jerked his neck until it cracked and looked for something to sit on. There was a chair next to a vanity, so he propelled his aching body toward it. He almost missed the seat but corrected himself and sat down. "When the hell did you even enchant me?"

"If we're being technical, I enchanted my name," she said. She left her bed and walked across the room to him slowly. "I did so when you were on the verge of death after I found out you lied to me about finding Indigo. After that breach of trust, I needed to keep some tabs. May I ask why you were talking about me?"

"Is that a crime?" he asked.

"Just a curiosity."

"I need to find someone. A priestess for an east coast coven," he replied. He decided since he was here, he might as well just ask.

"If you had given me Indigo, I might have helped you," she replied. "Might."

"This coven created the void," he said.

Nora paused in thought. She leaned down and placed her hand on the back of the chair, perfectly presenting her breasts. "Why would a coven do such a thing?"

"Why would a coven summon Flauros?" he retorted. Nora face twitched, as if saying, point taken.

"Which coven?"

"They're mine to deal with."

"Not how this works. That's a serious allegation that I'll need to investigate. Which coven?" she repeated.

Timothy sighed and titled his eyes to her breasts, then back to her face. He made sure she noticed him doing it. "Sisters of the New World."

"Good news and bad news," she said and stood upright. She walked back toward her bed, the bottom curvature of her buttocks visible. "That coven has been excommunicated for several years. That's the good news. The bad news is that because they've been disowned, I don't know where Angelica is. We got bad magic going back years. Let's just say Angelica wanted my job."

"Shit," he said under his breath. "Do you have any idea where she could be?"

"I don't, and believe me, I've tried," she replied. "After only me, Angelica is probably the strongest witch in the country." That told Timothy Angelica was stronger because that's the only way Nora would ever praise her. "She's skilled in dark magic, but immensely skilled in more conventional sorcery, especially barrier magic. It's why I can't find her. Some prior members who left the coven have told some nasty stories. The kind I'm required to investigate. It caused some short-term issues with some covens who believed I only attacked them after being elected High Priestess."

"What kind of dark magic?" Timothy asked, though he wasn't asking.

"The darkest kind. Interbreeding with demons," she said and sat on the edge of her bed. She crossed her legs and for a moment everything was revealed. "Angelica got wind that some of her coven had ratted her out, so her and her loyalists have been on the run since."

"Danielle Parris?"

"You've been busy," she replied, revealing that Danielle was her source. "She came to me when I was elected. I've been trying to find them for three years."

"I may have something they want," he said, and she tilted her head. "My exorcist."

"What would they want with that dainty little girl?" she asked.

"She's her granddaughter for starters," he replied, and Nora laughed in disbelief. "Swear to Lilith."

"She's not a witch. What would they want with an exorcist?"

"She's not a witch, but she is something even more powerful. She's the Black Winged Angel," Timothy said, and Nora uncrossed her legs and stormed across the room. Timothy leaned back when she reached out and placed her palm on his forehead. "Go ahead."

Nora closed her eyes and a blue light shined from her hand. Her eyes opened, glowing blue as her hair levitated. After a moment, she broke the connection to his mind and gasped as she stepped backward.

"Lilith!" she exclaimed.

"We need to find Angelica, and soon. Whatever she has planned, is already well underway," Timothy said, and Nora snapped her fingers. Her silk robe slid off her body and began to swirl around her. One end began to shimmer and vanish like the wick of a candle. As it burned away clothing appeared on her body until it was fully consumed.

Nora's fingertip began to glow as she traced a drawing on her wall. It took the form of a door, and she asked Timothy to think about where he just was with Sister Frost. He thought of the diner and Nora completed the pentagram. The drawing shimmered and began to take the shape of a glass door Nora walked through first. Timothy followed her, and she snapped her fingers to seal the entrance behind her, reverting the doors to their original states.

Sister Frost was still at the table with their food and released a sigh of relief when she saw them.

"I'm surprised you didn't leave," Timothy said as he retook his seat. He took a sip of his refilled coffee and took a bite of his eggs.