“Darkness,” the priest said calmly. “Much of my mind is lost to the darkness.”
He waved his hand around the illusionary city and sighed. “I was… lucky, compared to my fellows… my friends.” The priest sucked in a deep breath and whispered, “My family.”
“I was lost in the darkness for so long. So long. It was only my faith, my resolute and steadfast faith in God that saw me through the darkness.
“Make no mistake,” he said in a warning tone. “I was not spared the darkness, only granted fleeting moments where I could gasp for just one more life-saving breath. Brief instances where I could sense the light, far off and too distant to really feel or see… but I knew it was there and it encouraged me. It gave me that moment of focus and clarity that I needed to survive the darkness for just that much longer.”
He held out a hand to a passerby and sighed as the illusionary woman passed through his arm. “The others did not have that to help sustain them through the darkness. They lost themselves in it and now… now they are simply… of the darkness.”
He turned to face the young man at his side and smiled softly. “I don’t suppose any of this is making sense to you, is it?”
Kre reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck while he thought about how to answer the priest. “I mean… no, but at the same time, yes. Something bad happened to your city, your people. Something really bad. You didn’t suffer as badly as they did because you had divine powers that protected you.”
He had intended to continue summarizing, to prove that he had been paying attention, but the priest had suddenly rounded on him and grabbed him by the collar. Anger flashed in his black eyes like sparks of lightning, and he spit out his words as if they were venom, “I suffered greatly. Make no mistake of that. My people have suffered endlessly, and I have suffered right along with them.”
His tone softened then, and he set Kre back down on the ground. He gave the boy’s shoulder a quick dust off and lightly smacked him on the cheek. “I am sorry. I haven’t had a chance to release any of these emotions. You’re the first person I’ve had a chance to talk to since this all began. Or ended… I suppose is a better word for it. It’s all still so confusing sometimes. You understand, right?”
Kre took a reflexive step back and his hand brushed the handle of the tyrfang he had slid into his belt. He thought briefly of pulling it out but discarded the thought as suicidal. Against a creature that could conjure an illusionary world around him, what good was a dull, off-color sword?
“I really just want to get back to my friends,” he squeaked out, his voice betraying him despite his attempt to remain calm. “I did the tour. We talked history. Now you owe me a way out.”
The priest seemed taken aback by the rapid-fire rant of the young man in front of him. “I… yes, well… You know, I thought your kind would be more amenable to learning about my people than this.” He signed and shrugged, “Maybe I should have waited another few centuries for someone more suitable.”
He glanced up, hoping to catch even a faint smile from the boy, but got nothing but a questioning look. “You’re about hopeless kid,” the priest said, partially under his breath. “All this expense of time and energy, wasted on a little punk kid.”