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They continue to argue without really finding a solution to their problems. Although I've heard enough to understand that it's my ghost's body that's at stake, I'm forced to remain hidden.
So, my deceased’s name is Ember Crow. A strange and sweet name, both poetic and mysterious.
What could he have done to make them want to get rid of him so badly?
And by what miracle does his flesh not decompose like any other body?
I'm getting used to the idea that his spirit lives on somewhere, but I'm stunned by the physical effects of his spiritual survival. These men are equally astonished, even though one of them is a “paranormal specialist.”
What kind of invention is this again?
Are there other magical manifestations in this world?
Could it be that the supernatural is more than just a few dead people and ghosts?
Quite apart from the existence of magic as such, I'm shocked that the Church should be involved in this kind of occult activity, since it has always formally condemned all forms of magic except that of its Savior. That's why, century after century, they have eliminated all opponents on the grounds of witchcraft. So how can they justify having a sorcerer in their ranks?
It's so hypocritical. It's like common politicians saying, “Do as I say, not as I do.” As always, there's a double standard and, of course, the rules are more restrictive for ordinary citizens than for those in power. It's despicable.
The voices rise again.
“Wake up, there's no time to procrastinate. This is an emergency!”
“I know, but what can we do?”
“Try everything you can. The body has to go! Now! You wouldn't want that Ember Crow devil to come back to life, would you?”
“Is that even possible?”
“Of course it is! Why do you think we use Sin Eaters? It's far from an entertaining whim; it's to put a stop to this kind of heresy!”
Silence now reigns.
I don't think they were expecting such revelations.
Nor was I, for that matter...
The Church, which claims to be on the hunt for Sin Eaters it accuses of sinning, would our their services?
And then, it would be possible to resuscitate? Really?
Questions race through my poor head. It's a lot of information all at once, and I've barely digested the previous material. Now I've reached the in-between stage: I'm stunned by what I'm discovering, but I don't know enough to grasp the events as a whole. I'm going to have to learn more without being spotted. It's becoming a habit.
Above all, I must find Ember and tell him what I've discovered. Where the hell is he now?!
This pleasant interlude soon came to an end. We each had a mission to complete and, of course, we had to part ways. We returned to our respective rooms at the stroke of midnight. I had trouble falling asleep. My mind was torn—torn apart, in fact!—between the relief of having met Christy and the despair of having to leave so soon someone who could have become a true friend.
Leaving the room the next morning, before sunrise, I discovered a Kraft paper bag leaning against my door. Christy apparently wanted to keep in touch and had made sure he could, by giving me a state-of-the-art cell phone, complete with instructions on how to use it. Browsing quickly, I discovered his number in the phone book and a freshly received SMS:
Chris
We'll be in touch.
It was succinct, but clear: he didn't want to cut ties any more than I did. A wave of warmth swept through my heart. I now had a friend to whom I could confide my doubts and sorrows, a little happiness that restored some small light to my dark life.
Eltz's journal
17
