The Sunrise

He had heard the ominous chants from the woods himself. Something evil was gathering strength beyond the trees. Of this, there could be no doubt in his frantic mind. The words burned into his memory like a wayward ember leaves its mark upon your skin. He muttered them under his breath his entire way home, stuttering his steps over every rock and root on the way. Omnes fiet tenebris. He recognized the Latin, but with every hushed repetition, his worry grew greater as to what these words could mean. Omnes fiet tenebris. 

He burst through the door and made his way immediately to the pile of books on the far side of his desk. He sorted through the clutter of texts hand over fist until he found his Latin reference dictionary. Thumbing fast through the pages, his shaky hands made their way through the O’s. Omnes. All. That was simple enough. F’s. Fiet. Future tense. Will be made. T’s. Tenebris. Dark. All… will be made…dark.

His hands let go of the dictionary as he toppled onto the books in front of him. He knew that an unwelcome evil had been making mischief in his town for months, but he had no idea that a permeating darkness intended to stamp out any trace of light left. Lisbeth had told him that she made a pact with Eris in the woods that night, but he had thought these the ramblings of a wayward soul desperate for control. Lisbeth had always been a sweet, quiet girl, making no trouble for herself or her family. In fact, she was the only one of her kin still enjoying her freedom, as no one had made nary a complaint about her since the mischief began. He aimed only to warn her of the potential ramifications of her wilderness retreat at the onset of their conversation, but once he heard the chorus of calamity coming from the woods as Lisbeth walked away, he knew that if Eris and her impending strife were able to make their way from the woods into his town unimpeded, all hope would be lost.

The Reverend Thompson hurried to the house closest to him. He knocked repeatedly until he was met with a bewildered, still half-asleep set of eyes. He grabbed William by the arm and pulled him out into the crisp morning air, reaching for the door to pull it closed behind him. His message was hushed, but urgent. William was to gather as many men as he could and have them meet in his barn at sundown. Women too, provided that they had no children in the home to look after. The Reverend Thompson assured William that all would be revealed to him that evening and that they must make haste in spreading the word as quickly as possible. Their lives, and quite frankly, their souls depended on swift, secretive action. The Reverend Thompson then took off in the direction of his other neighbor’s house. 

As the light dipped below the hills, the Reverend Thompson met with a little more than two dozen concerned faces in William’s barn. How could so few have come? Once he was sure that no more would straggle in, he recounted, in vivd detail, the happenings of that morning and his fear of what would befall their town if the faithful few that had gathered together that night did not take immediate action. A voice from the back of the group uttered what no one else was willing to interrupt The Reverend’s diatribe to ask,

“Well, just what would you have us do, Reverend?”

His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. His congregants had spent precious months taking half measures while the evil in their town made a mockery of them all. Prayers and supplications muttered around their dinner tables would no longer suffice. They must be proactive, before it was too late. He cleared his throat and, willing his voice to steady, said,

“Follow the girl…”