Chapter 27: Story Of The False Fate
Breathe in… Breathe out… Damian calmed himself and reflected on his actions. He was acting very unlikely.
The way he spoke to Father Vincent and Sister Deloris wasn't his usual way of speaking and he knew it.
...Dammit. Why am I feeling so worked up? He felt uneasy, like everything in his sights annoyed him just by being there.
Mark was rolling his fingers whilst sitting down on a middle pew on the right after walking about anxiously.
He was bothered about the fact that the people of the church now knew he was a supposed enemy. And to top it off, they were with his daughter and ex-wife.
Father Vincent didn't vex Damian's rude response and just sat quietly on the pew in front of the one Mark was on.
"Why can a demon enter a church? Does it mean those mindless demons can enter too?" Damian calmly asked as he slit through the thick silence that filled the church.
...Oh my goodness, Damian wants to ruin me… Mark threw his hands up and covered his face, then laid back on the pew as though he had lost all hope in life.
Father Vincent raised his head up and gently turned to Damian, then chuckled and said,
"What makes you think those creatures are demons?"
Damian was confused and this time, it was written all over his face. Well, they looked like demons to him and he had also killed tons of them to boot.
Father Vincent continued, "A demon-possessed man was listening to the Messiah's teaching[1]…
"Our Saviour didn't die for the perfect."
Father Vincent chuckled once again and said, "And for a better understanding, it all comes down to what you think demons are."
...What I think demons are… Damian muttered to himself.
He didn't ponder on that and proceeded to ask, "What is this so-called demon apocalypse? And what is its real purpose?"
...I also want to know… Mark listened in, hoping Father Vincent's answer could satisfy his questions.
"Then how about I tell you a story?" Father Vincent asked.
"What?" Damian blurted out in confusion.
...Maybe the story is his way of explaining? Damian sighed inwardly, then said, "Please make it brief."
…What does a story have to do with it? Mark just sat there, not voicing out his opinions and lampooning inwardly.
* * *
In a time, where honour on the battlefield was man's greatest achievement, there was a boy that was born and raised in a home where he had a mother and father that showered him with love and discipline.
He never had to beg or fight for food, nor was he bullied by his peers. He never suffered any type of trauma.
His father was a middle-class farmer, and as a farmer, he taught his son how to till the ground and work hard for his daily bread.
He was quite satisfied with the life he lived up until he became 15 years old.
From a young age, he always saw men of Valor being cheered as they came back from a battle they had won.
They could have everything and could do anything they wanted when they wanted it.
The young teenage boy started longing to be such an important figure one day and make people kneel before him and cower in his presence. In short, he dreamed too big.
He lived as the son of a farmer until he became 18 years old. He left his home on his own accord to join the battlefield.
He had strong hands with a natural talent for battle and came back home after many years as a man of Valor whose name spread far and wide due to his battle prowess.
He had everything he desired, down to a beautiful wife of a regular person at the snap of his fingers.
He lived a covetous and greedy life and died on the battlefield. But before he passed, he had a son of his own born out of wedlock.
This son did not even know his father and was given to his grandparents to raise by his wanton mother.
He was taught like his father in the ways of the soil and never once longed for the battlefield.
When this son came of age he had a striking resemblance to his father.
People that didn't hear of his father's death thought he was his father and it was mostly people his father wronged.
One night, a group of bandits stormed his house and slaughtered his grandparents, and left by saying if he didn't pay what he owed them he would be next.
Sigh, He was raised a simple farmer and did the only logical thing he could think of, running away.
He went to a new town but similar occurrences continued to happen and he always miraculously came out alive.
After constantly running, he decided it'll be better to act the role.
He arrived in cities and boasted about being his father. He got the same treatment as his father and was really happy until reality caught up to him.
Just one rumour spread across and one of his father's fellow warriors that happened to witness his death heard of the imposter.
He came to the town coincidentally and met the imposter.
He heard about the son's past and enacted revenge for his grandparents, then took the son under his wings.
The son was sleeping one night and was assassinated by another faction his father offended.
* * *
"I summarised the story as much as I could." Father Vincent said.
"That was very unrealistic, and what does it have to do with the apocalypse?" Damian retorted.
...What Damian said was right, that story is really bland. Rebecca[2] can tell a better one… Mark was just sitting there and keeping quiet. Although he wanted to say something, he just couldn't. What if he offended Damian again?
"It's not about how realistic it is. This situation is similar to so many in the Old Testament…
"The sins of fathers are passed on to their children." Father Vincent replied.
"So? What does that have to do with the apocalypse?" Damian repeated.
Father Vincent sighed, "Honestly, I don't know. I'm not allowed to."
Damian was perplexed, "Was that the so-called prophecy you said was confidential?"
"It isn't. It's less vague than the story I just told…
"It's 'The Prophecy Of The False Fate'." Father Vincent's face still wore his warm, calm smile.
…The prophecy of the false fate. He didn't say it when Sister Deloris was here. I'll assume he has his own goal in this… Damian sunk into his thoughts.
...He told us just like that? Why? Mark was finally catching up.
Damian deliberated his words before speaking, "...Why did you tell us?"
Sister Deloris came out of the door at the left side of the chancel, followed by a 5'7 Asian woman with short black hair and bangs, wearing an oversized white fluffy sweater, blue jeans and blue slip-ons. She held a 10-year-old girl with tan skin and black hair, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and a skirt.
Father Vincent stood up and walked out of the pew he sat on, then said, "I was told to do what I thought was best."
…
[1] Mark 1: 21-29 (From the Bible)
[2] Mark's daughter
-- Gift
received