Darkness

Pain blossomed out from the wound like a shocking sunset. Slowly, and then everywhere at once, burning, so intense that it consumed all of his thoughts. Seth cried out in pain as red arced across his vision.

Through the haze of pain, Seth made out Kith’s distorted words. “He will come around. Continue his treatment, every three hours until he confesses his allegiance to the dark one.”

Pain. There was only pain: like he was drowning in a nest of fire ants; being eaten alive, piece by piece,  by their burning mouths. Searing pain. They kept coming back, demanding his confession. Every time, he denied them. Seth lost count of how many times the stinger pierced his skin. His throat was raw, his tongue dry. All-consuming pain. Every gasp of air felt like trying to breath in  hot sand. Too exhausted to move, Seth saw the shadows of his captor’s approaching. No. Not again.

“Will you confess?”

Seth grunted, the only sound he could force out of his poisoned body. “Please.”

“We will purge you of your darkness, in the name of Moire,” the voice chanted.

A silent plea. Please Moire. You know my innocence. Please, please, please. The prayer fell unanswered as he felt the barb scratch against the sensitive flesh of his belly.

“Confess.”

Seth locked his teeth together to steady himself.

The poison entered his body again. His back arched in pain.

***

Conscious thought took effort. But Seth’s muddled thoughts realized the constant barbs had stopped. He took a claw, and gingerly felt around his body. Seven, no eight. Eight puckered, burning holes in his skin. His throat was dry.

He stared morosely at the watching Kith, Cursing her with every fibre of his being. She spoke: “To withstand so many stings and still not repent. A single dpes alone usually extract a full confession. But eight? Lesset’s hold on you must be very strong.” She shook her head, “It is just as the inquisitor says, the greater the denial, the greater the treachery. We were lucky that we were alerted to you your presence. Imagine how much damage you could’ve caused if they had not come forward?”

Seth looked away. Someone turned me in? The thought that he had been betrayed cut him to his core.

“Will you confess?” Kith asked.

“No.”

She brought forward a fresh scorpion barb.

Seth spat at her. No spittle. His mouth too dry. “You are most evil Meer I have ever met.”

“Many have said that,” she replied. “The inquisitor tells me otherwise. I do not enjoy this, but it is a necessity.”

She positioned the barb keenly against his spine.

Something in Seth fractured. “Wait,” he choked out. “I’ll confess. At my trial.”

“Admitting your misdoings to yourself is the first step,” Kith said. “You will brought forward to trial at the next public session.”

Seth collapsed with relief.

“As a follower of Lesset, to allow you to gather your senses would be folly,” she remarked. He felt His world dissolved in a red haze.

***

Seth’s captors drove him to his feet. He staggered lethargically through the tunnels, his body aching. The world spun. He was led into a long, shallow ceilinged chamber. Skulls of sky beasts lined the walls at regular intervals, with snake skin was stretched over them.  As he approached, Meer struck them rhythmically. Seth recoiled at the noise. He resisted the urge to claw at his ears as the drums rang out through the chamber.

A small gathering of Meer blanched away from him as he approached. He didn’t blame them: blood matted his unkempt fur, almost as thickly as clay marked theirs.

He saw what lay at the end of the chamber. He was there: The Inquisitor Meerkat; sprawling horizontally on a raised mound of dirt. A woven crown of cactus rested on his head. Seth clenched his claws into the hard dirt floor. No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. He recalled the gruesome horror stories, the brutish acts that Tim (for that was the inquisitor meerkat’s name) committed in the name of Moire. The inquisitor expelling followers of Lesset, by  any- usually painfully graphic - means. Seth’s breath caught in his throat.  

Tim was obese. No wonder he’s closest to Moire, Seth thought morbidly, his entire body looks like Moire’s bulging trunk. With such a round belly, Seth wondered if the inquisitor could walk without his stomach dragging along the ground. The thought brought a bitter smile to his mouth.  

When the inquisitor caught sight of Seth, a frown tugged at his mouth.

“Imposter,” he said disdainfully, gaining the attention of the room’s inhabitants. “Agent of Lesset, the dark one: What do you have to say for yourself?”

Seth gulped dryly. “I’m not an agent of Lesset. I’m-

“Incapable of telling the truth? Because that’s exactly what an agent of Lesset would say,” Tim countered, raising his voice. “You have been accused of conspiring with the sky beasts, falling from the light, and of not standing guard over our people.”

“I’m innocent!” Seth protested. “I only know one watcher, and that is Moire: from the beginning of days to the end of time. You’ve got to believe me!”

Tim gestured to a young Meerling steward, who brought forward a frog, and gingerly fed it into the inquisitor’s gaping mouth.  Seth felt his stomach turn as he listened to the ferocious crunching of frog limbs. It seemed particularly loud today. With Tim’s sickening eating,  Seth half expected him to devour the young attendant too. “How can I believe you,” Tim asked, wiping his mouth lazily with his arm, a thin twig against the fatness of his body. “If you are a dark one? Your treachery is so great, it’s a wonder that your tongue isn’t forked.” The cactus crown bobbed absurdly on his head.

“This is ridiculous,” Seth said, fear being replaced with frustration.

“There are reports that you have consorted with a sky beast,” Tim pressed. “Do you deny that?”

“What?” Seth said. How did they know about that? He thought to the long talon-inflicted scars that traced his skin from neck to rump. “I narrowly avoided being eaten when I was a Meerling,” he admitted.

“And in return for your life, you struck a deal with the sky beast, didn’t you?” Tim asked.   The crowd recoiled, entranced by the revelation. They murmured amongst themselves. Seth felt their judgemental eyes burning into his back. The snake drums sounded, echoing around the chamber.

“You gave him your allegiance.” Tim continued. “I know!  The sky beast has marked you! Behold!”

With a gesture of his long clawed hand, a contingent of Meer probed Seth’s skin, finding the thick scars under his fur in a matter of seconds.  The crowd gasped,  as the drums gained momentum.

“I am merciful,” Tim said with unfelt empathy, “but what I cannot forgive is a liar, and a traitor.”

The words sounded rehearsed, like they had been said many times before. Seth was suddenly afraid of the theatricality of the fat meerkat’s speech.

“I was lucky,” Seth said, choosing his words carefully. “What-“

“You were lucky until your ruse was discovered!” Tim crowed, “Until your heretic ways were found out! Lesset wishes the death of all Meer kind. You have conspired! You have tried to aid him in his mission. You will atone!”

The sound of drums swirled about the chamber, drowning out the crowd’s nervous chatter. The horrific corphany swirled around Seth’s head.

“Please,” he begged, shouting to be heard above the din.  “There’s got to be something that I can do to prove my innocence. Anything!”

The drums fell silent. Seth’s plea lingered in the air. He became of his ragged breathing. He suddenly suspected that this was what the inquisitor wanted to hear. Every rehearsed word had driven them them to this. The inquisitor scrutinized him.  “Anything?”

Seth was filled with dread. I can’t back down now. For Rita’s sake.

“You will stand trial in the branches of Moire,” Tim declared, his eyes gleaming brutishly.

“What must I do?” Seth asked, his voice cracking like the baked earth.

“You must climb the great Moire, and remain there until their judgement is passed.” Tim said, “If you are innocent, Miore will send your soul to the afterlife.”

“How?”

The inquisitor’s lip curled. “You will become one with the ground.”

He wants me to jump. “That’s completely idiotic!” Seth growled. ““Moire is so great, even if I jumped from the lowest branch, I’d die!” He paused. “What if I survived the fall?”

“If you survive, it is proof of your treachery- that your soul is not good enough for the tunnels of the afterlife. Our warriors will tear your treacherous flesh apart.”

“There are obvious flaws in this logic,” Seth pointed out desperately. “No matter what I do, I’ll be condemned to death.”

Tim raised his twig-like arms in an apathetic gesture. “Moire has declared it. You will be tested. Do you doubt them?”

“I do! Moire is meant to watch over me, they would not wish me dead!”

“You dare to speak for Moire, traitor?” The inquisitor’s fur bristled. He turned to Seth’s escorts. “Take him to the holding cells.” Tim barked, spittle spraying the dirt  “The test will commence as the sun sinks into the ground.“