The Darkness Within

During the four days he has to contemplate prior to leaving for the island, Matthias meditates as he did before. Only this time, instead of entering Constantine's vision, he descends into his own dark dream.

There is a flash and suddenly he is standing in a courtyard before a great temple, much like the one inside the Crystal Tomb. Only with more shadow than he remembers, seeping out from behind closed doors and high in the ceilings as he walks through the open doorway. The golden light of Pelor still glows from the central altar but it is different somehow. Its light is now darker, almost gritty, the illumination dulled.

Upon the altar is a large gold and black sunburst, the holy symbol of Pelor. The light seems to emanate from within it. Steeling himself for whatever might lay ahead, Matthias walks to the altar and peers down at the symbol. The holy symbol is actually loose, and not, as he first thought, a piece of the altar. It hums a little as he approaches.

The humming noise increases in intensity. The light seemed to be pulsing in time to the vibrations. Matthias reaches out and touches the symbol and with a sigh the humming stops, and he feels a jolt of energy flowing into him.

A voice echoes inside his head, speaking in a strange tongue. Matthias ponders to himself the meaning behind the words but realizes that the tongue is nothing he understands, yet the voices seem slightly familiar, almost comforting in a way. But these thoughts are quickly forgotten as the light diminishes in intensity, and golden flares start washing like waves up his arm.

In a flash, with his finger still on the holy symbol, he realizes why the voice sounds familiar. It is not words it is speaking, but the sounds of magic. Specifically, these are the sounds of the healing fires of Pelor.

This magic is dark, not tainted but angry. The magic is filled with all the rage of the burning sun, filled with life-giving and life-destroying power. The symbol seems to grow hotter as the moments tick by.

Matthias pulls his hand away, startled by the sudden intense heat. Immediately he feels a sharp pain all throughout his body, as though tearing away all the muscles, all the flesh, all the sinew in one moment. He doubles over, kneeling in front of the altar.

This is when he sees the cracks spreading on the golden face of the altar, cracks pulsing with an eerie red glow. Matthias senses something is wrong and backs away from the altar, but when he reaches for his mace and shield, shocking realization hits him.

No shield. No mace. Just himself, his robes, and the connection to his god. Looking again at the altar, a feeling washes over him, and he knows.

It is sick.

It is dying.

“It is you, Matthias.”

There is a voice, talking to him, whispering thoughts.

It's difficult to differentiate between the voice and his thoughts. Even as he listens hard, he can barely make out the whispers.

"Heal me. Embrace me. Call me brother. Pick me up, and carry me into the world as your own. Heal the sick, taste the rage. Embrace it, and by doing so, be cleansed."

The statues of angels all seem to watch in anticipation. Matthias bends down and picks up the symbol and holding it between his hands places it against his breast, pressing it against himself in what seems an effort to become one with it. As Matthias places his hand upon the holy symbol, the burning sensation starts again, almost immediately.

Gradually it increases as he strains to lift the unbelievably heavy thing. Finally, with a great heave, he slings it around his neck where it drops, without a single bounce, to hang upon his chest.

Matthias stands, breathing heavily for a moment, but realizes the ordeal is not over. The heat from the symbol suffuses him, but a new sensation is now radiating from the altar itself.

The cracks in the altar are spreading visibly now, and as they spread, Matthias feels cold running up and down his body, prickling his skin. The chill spreads out, engulfing the room. The red light within the cracks darkens and begins to throb in a slow rhythmic pulsing.

Almost like the beating of a heart.

At once Matthias knows what he must do: heal this sickness, purge the altar of the darkness, and set everything back into balance.

Matthias raises his voice above the noise to call out for Pelor to bring life, and, reaching for the altar his hand unconsciously brushes the holy symbol at his chest, its weight still dragging against his neck. There is a flash of golden energy and he feels as though his limbs are burning themselves away in the pure fury of it.

And then there is a silence.

So profound is the sudden quiet, that Matthias finds himself holding his breath for fear of breaking it. A moment passes as the red light seems to ooze back into the altar. Some of it drips down upon him, seeping into his flesh before he can move. Where it touches Matthias, he feels the anger and the rage all over again. But that too becomes quiet, until all that is left is the lightly throbbing weight of the holy symbol, pulsing in time with the light from the altar.

The pure, golden light. Unbroken, unmarred, uninjured.

His breath escapes, and he awakens. Matthias clutches for the symbol around his neck.

It's still there.

So heavy.

But it feels right, somehow.