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I hurry through the village to the church square. All is quiet, the doors are closed, and there are no passers-by. I hurry to leave this exposed space as quickly as possible, despite the darkening night.
The alleyway that will lead me out of the village is plunged into darkness; no streetlamps have been installed here. Set below the hill, it's surrounded by two walls that give it the appearance of a tunnel with an inky sky as its ceiling. My soles ricochet off the cobblestones. The horizon is turning pink with streaks of purple, with only the mountains still visible.
The farther I go down this path, the less I see of my surroundings. Only the disturbed sound of the night still reaches me. The breeze rustles the leaves still on the trees, but that's not all. My footsteps aren't the only ones I hear; someone is following me. The rustle of their clothes and the puffs of their breath are so faint that they would easily have gone unnoticed if I weren't paranoid and over-trained.
Ever since Eltz passed his burden on to me, I've been prey: the prey of shadows, the prey of light. My presence is required and, paradoxically, I'm so feared that I'm hunted.
Those who hide in the shadows are legion, and they all want the same thing: to eradicate a member of the Brotherhood. To set God up as the sole savior, while concealing the fact that He has abandoned them on this earth, refraining from offering them unconditional forgiveness. He created human beings in His own image, imperfect and greedy, but expects them to achieve perfection that He Himself is incapable of attaining. What hypocrisy!
Pretending not to have noticed anything, I accelerate to widen the distance between me and this village, where I hope never to set foot again. I follow the twists and turns of this potentially fatal trench, my fingertips brushing the irregularity of the rain-worn wall to guide me.
Suddenly, the footsteps become less discreet, faster and louder, betraying haste. A voice rises in the alleyway and ricochets between the icy stones.
“Wait, miss! Please wait!”
My pursuer's heavy footsteps echo, while strange shadows flicker around me. He's running, flashlight in hand, blowing like an ox, a sign that he hasn't played sports for some time.
I turn around and see the old man planting himself in front of me, handing me his flashlight and, with his hands on his knees, trying not to spit his lungs out on the tips of his shoes.
“Are you... leaving?” he asks me in a jerky voice.
“For a hike.”
“In the middle of the night?” he continues, his breathing still erratic.
“You've never done this? It's an exceptional sensation to walk under the stars,” I reply, pretending not to understand his surprise.
I pause for a moment. Why did he run after me when he's so weak? What if he's distracting me while we wait for the police?
“You should try it sometime. I'll leave you to it; my guide is waiting for me.”
“Your... Are you a...?” he asks me, without dwelling on appearances.
“A what?”
“A Sin Eater.”
How does he know that?
I choke as I try to swallow, stunned that an old man who's probably never been out of his backwater village knows things that are beyond him.
“I don't understand.”
“Do you help the dead into heaven?”
“No, I don’t. I'm on vacation.”
“Please come back for me,” he insists, ignoring my response.
While he's still hunched over, his imploring eyes stare at me, as if he fears a curse will fall on him after his death. Has he sinned so much that he absolutely must be helped by one of my own? The Brotherhood will send him someone in any case, so why is he worried?
“I've got to go.”
In a hurry to get out of here, I hand him his flashlight, which he grasps limply, and trot away. It's only when the village fades behind me and the night swallows me in its veil of invisibility that I slow my pace.
How did that man unmask me in such a short space of time?
What did he want from me?
