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Songs Into Stories: Church AsylumEvery individual carries sins with them and Milrath was no exception. But his sins were so heavy, his crimes so severe that he could feel their weight on his back constantly, no matter where he went, no matter if he tried to find some hidden purity from his stained and twisted soul. His sins were like a corpse that was riding on his back, reminding him of his bad deeds and laughing while the weight would crush him. And some of his sins followed him from the shadows, sneaking around him, watching, judging, sometimes they were pulling the shadow his own body casts. There was evil inside him, Milrath was aware that he was a bad man, but that was a twist in his life; unlike most people like him who have done wicked, terrible things, he felt guilt and wished for forgiveness. He wanted to get rid of the darkness that had a hold of his soul. For a long while already, Milrath had been running away from himself, but so far it had been futile. And yet, still he was trying. The snowstorm was awful that day. The visibility was very poor and the huge snowflakes were getting into Milrath's eyes while the freezing wind was cutting him with its cold viciousness and he had to protect his face with his arm. Traversing the mountain road was hard in such weather, it took a lot of effort to be able to proceed when there was a thick snow blanket covering the ground. Still Milrath found strength to keep going, refusing to let the storm overpower him. His sanity was being tested with the unnatural sounds he could hear from the depths of the mountain and occasionally he could see figures dancing behind the veil of snow, appearing and disappearing, and there was no way to tell what he saw and heard was real and what wasn't. But even though the mountain was playing these tricks, Milrath remained adamant and he continued his lonely journey. After some time, however, the mountain decided to show mercy on Milrath. As he was getting closer to the top, the snowstorm which had been tormenting him this whole time started to subside gradually and the wind lost its harshness, and Milrath didn't have to shield his eyes anymore. The blizzard had calmed down into a mild snowfall and as Milrath progressed, it then ceased completely, and suddenly the skies were clear and the great radiant sun was blessing the mountain with its light. Such an odd travel this had been, Milrath surmised in his head when he was unexpectedly basking in the golden rays of the sun. He wondered if the mountain had been testing him, to see if he was worthy of what he was seeking. It was the only reason he could think of to explain the strange weather anomaly. But now, as he was completely free from the snowstorm and could see around, he now had his destination in sight. A great building stood tall in the cold embrace of the mountain, surrounded by pillars of ice that never melted; it looked like the ice and the black stone had fused together. The building was a church and everything in its exterior looked sharp, like every nook of it was meant to pierce evil. A couple of towers were puncturing the sky and here and there Milrath could see gargoyles guarding the holy structure. He could feel their stony gazes at him as they silently observed and judged him; they could see all the sins he had brought with him. Milrath felt like they could get on their wings and attack him at any second. Under their harsh stares, Milrath cautiously walked towards the church, every now and then glancing at the stone monsters because he was afraid that they would come to life. But they remained stationary even when Milrath had managed to reach the grand double doors that granted entrance to the building. He raised his shaky hand and knocked on the dark wood. There was no response for a while. Milrath pondered if anyone had even heard his knocking. But just when he was about to knock again, one of the doors slowly creaked open and somebody peaked their head outside; a young man who was wearing priest's black robes. “How can I help you?” the young man asked humbly as he pushed the door more open. “I'd like to have a word with the high priest”, Milrath responded quietly. “Of course. Come inside”, the young priest invited him and stepped aside so Milrath could make his way in. Soon the door was closed again, leaving the coldness to the outside world. Milrath learned as soon as he had stepped in that the building was just as magnificent from the inside as it was on the outside. Beautiful pieces of artwork, whether it was paintings or sculptures, decorated the place moderately, portraying saints of the past. Gorgeous candelabras brought a little bit of light inside, together with the sunshine that flowed from the windows. The church was silent, but Milrath could feel some strange vibration in the air; maybe it was some sort of holy energy? “Follow me”, the young man said as he passed Milrath and kept walking forward. “The high priest is in the prayer room.” Without saying a word, Milrath started to follow the priest. The sound of their steps was muffled by the blue long carpet that stretched somewhere into the heart of the building. Milrath could distinguish a pair of doors in the distance and assumed that it was where they were heading. The journey wasn't long, but it felt uncomfortable to Milrath since just like the gargoyles outside, he could feel all the people in the paintings and sculptures judging him. Maybe he just had to get used to it. Once he and the priest had reached the doors, the young man pushed them open and they were allowed to enter the prayer room. It was the most magnificent place Milrath had ever seen in his life and he got filled with the radiating holy powers that dwelled in this room. It made him feel humble. The place was spacious; two rows of church pews took their places on the left and right side of the room. The most well-crafted candelabras were standing here and there and currently they were holding candles that brought a scent of honey into the air. At the far end of the room there was the altar, the heart of the church. Three tall stained-glass windows depicting holy figures were the ones that captured Milrath's gaze for the longest time. The altar consisted of a white pedestal where various objects were waiting for their use, though Milrath couldn't tell what they were used for. Then there were two other pedestals at the left and right side of the altar, filled with vivid flowers. Milrath was a little surprised as he saw the plants; they were blooming beautifully, even though they were inside a building located in the mountain where snow and ice never melted. Maybe it was just one of the holy miracles this place held. It really left Milrath with a sense of awe. There were a few people, all of them priests, on the altar, mumbling something Milrath couldn't hear. Soon they noticed him and the young priest walking closer and the whole group turned to look at them. Once they had reached the altar, the young priest made a slight bow and said: “A guest has asked to speak with you, your honor.” Milrath wasn't exactly sure who was the high priest as all of them wore the same black robes. However, there was undeniable authority radiating from one of the priests. A middle-aged man with long blond hair with certain dignity carved onto his face. And his eyes, Milrath had never seen such bright blue eyes. All the priests were observing him, but the one with those stunning eyes seemed to be able to look deeper, right into the very soul. Milrath felt so small, so insignificant in front of him. It was like the priest knew every bad deed he had done just by looking at him. Milrath's hunch about who was the high priest turned out to be correct. He opened his mouth and said: “Welcome, guest. Will you tell us your name?” Milrath fell on one knee in order to show respect and lowered his head. “My name is Milrath.” “Such a strong name”, the high priest said. “You may call me Casmia. What is it you seek from the house of Melresh?” Milrath barely knew what Melresh was; he was the great lord of the sun and this church had been built to worship him. But Milrath was pretty sure he would get more acquainted with this sun lord if he was allowed to stay and he said: “I'm humbly asking for your guidance and an asylum. Please, give me a place to stay and purify my wretched soul and I will pray to lord Melresh's name.” He lifted his head again and met once more the blue eyes of Casmia. For one short moment the high priest was piercing his soul and Milrath felt like he couldn't hide a single thing about himself. It worried him, for would Casmia let him stay once he knew the truth about him? “Very well.” Milrath almost couldn't believe his ears. The high priest had given him his permission. It was probably the greatest thing that had happened to him in years. “Oh, thank you, your honor!” Milrath exclaimed and stood up. “I will show my devotion to Melresh with all my heart.” “I do not doubt that”, Casmia said calmly. “Now, I will give you a little tour. Please, follow me.” It was that moment when Milrath thought his soul could be purified and he could gain a new start for himself, free from the sins of the past. Seeking guidance from faith was the last thing he could think of that could help him to redeem himself. He hated and feared the man he had become, but when you're born wicked, it's hard to not be like that, it's hard to strive to become something else, something better. Not all were able to resist their nature. But Milrath had this small strand of thought slithering inside his head, like a snake, that he could turn his life around. He allowed that snake to grow, absorbing its essence. Milrath himself felt like a snake as he gave up his clothes he had worn for a long time, thus shedding his skin. From that point on, he was wearing the black robes of a priest. These robes were his new scales and through them he could soak up the golden light of lord Melresh. Milrath adapted to his new life quickly. Living in the church was rather simple; pray and help those who occasionally would come to seek aid from the church. The high priest Casmia also demanded silence whenever they weren't praying, but that wasn't hard to achieve, although Milrath found this to be a little strange since Casmia was so adamant about it. But maybe it had something to do with this being a sacred place of worship and it was necessary to keep it devoutly silent. Just like the life of priests, their diet was simple as well, consisting of bread and water. That was probably the thing Milrath had most trouble getting used to, somewhere in the back of his mind was a voice that craved the meat of other living beings. But he wouldn't let himself consume flesh any more, his body had to turn into a holy instrument and shouldn't be tainted with anything, like with eating substances of other creatures; you'll never know if they've been even grazed by something evil. Bread and water should suffice as he would be vitalized by the holy light of Melresh. He thought that he had been able to run from himself and hide in the mountain of light. But radiant light also casts a dark shadow. These hands that now would be gently pressed against each other to pray had raised a blade to spill blood and end a life, more than once. These eyes that were allowed to witness the holy power of Melresh in the altar where the most vibrant flowers bloomed, they had been filled with hatred and watched how the light of a human life was extinguished. This black heart that was now letting in the golden sunshine had never learned how to love, only hate. Milrath had opened up his heart to seek guidance from the light, but it was hard to shed every bad deed he had done. He was able to feel guilt, perhaps that was a good sign. So many of his own crimes were haunting him in his sleep, the faces and the screams and the begging of all of his victims just repeated themselves in his nightmares. He wanted to forget them, perhaps even yearning for their forgiveness although he was sure he would never deserve that, so he continued to pray. Such a tormented soul. And every day he could feel the gaze of judgement by Casmia's piercing blue eyes. The high priest seldomly spoke with him, but Milrath couldn't help but notice that he was often staring at him. Casmia always remained expressionless so Milrath had no way of knowing what he was thinking or what he was searching for with his invading gaze. But it was uncomfortable, like he was keeping track of the beast Milrath had tried so hard to conceal from everybody. However, Casmia still let him stay in the church, so Milrath felt also a spark of hope whenever he was looking at him with those eyes that seemed to see everything. Milrath tried so hard to become a better man through faith, there was no doubt about that. However, no matter how much he prayed, no matter how devoted he strived to be, a monster still lived inside him. It never went away, it was merely slumbering, waiting for the day when it could raise its ugly head again. It had been there since the very beginning of his life; there was no way it could be separated from him. It didn't take long before Milrath would kill again. The monster was whispering to him, making him crawl back to his old tendencies. All it took was a quarrel with another priest and in a fit of rage Milrath had ruthlessly taken his life by stabbing. He just left the corpse to rot for other priests to find. They were merely the first drops of blood that would be spilled in the church. The beast was now loose and it would attack anyone. The faith, the radiance of sun and holy powers of Melresh, none of them were able to chasten the monster, and Milrath's attempts at striving to become a better person had ultimately failed. He would sin again, killing people who had shared their lives, food and prayers with him. He would take lives as if he had the authority to decide when someone's life should end. Why was he doing this? Even Milrath himself wasn't sure. He had been born wicked and as wicked he would stay. His desire to kill was unnatural, but so tainted and twisted his soul was that he didn't even care anymore. He had tried to run away from his true self, but it had caught him and stuck with him until the day he would die. The mountain church soon transformed from a holy place to a house of horror. Murders would happen frequently; the blood of the priests were staining the holy ground. Anxiety blossomed among the priests as they didn't know who or what was carrying out these murders and of course, Milrath's lips were sealed. In fear for their lives, some of the priests even decided to flee, abandoning the church that had been their home for decades. Some adamantly stayed, like high priest Casmia. Milrath had avoided him as well as he could, for he was sure the high priest was able to just take a quick glance at his soul and find out the truth behind the murders. However, he wouldn't get away with these slaughters forever. In the end, the culprit would always get exposed. One morning, the atmosphere inside the church felt heavy somehow. Milrath could tell something was different the moment he left his quarter. The church was always silent, but that morning, it was even more quiet, like in a grave that had been sealed for centuries. Milrath saw no one as he slowly walked towards the prayer room where all the priests gathered first thing in the morning to make their first prayers of the day. The great double doors were open and Milrath noted that everyone else was in the prayer room already. They had been muttering something between each other with low voices, but as soon as they noticed Milrath coming, they went silent. It was suspicious. Very suspicious. There was tension in the air, but nonetheless, they held the morning sermon just like any other day. Once this was done, however, Casmia then spoke to Milrath: “Brother Milrath, could you please kneel down?” Milrath instantly felt a sting in his black heart. Casmia was staring at him with that familiar piercing gaze, but somehow, it felt even more intense than ever before. He knew. He definitely knew. Nonetheless, Milrath did as the high priest had told and fell on one knee, just like he had done the day they first met. There had been many eyes judging him during all these years, but Casmia's gaze was without a doubt the sharpest one, giving Milrath even physical pain. For a moment Casmia just watched him and let the tension in the air drill into his skull. His back felt heavy as if all the sins he had carried throughout the years were gathering into a single mass, wanting to crush him. “Brother Milrath.” Casmia's voice resonated powerfully within the prayer room. “You came here asking for guidance and an asylum. I accepted your presence and granted them to you and you took lord Melresh into your heart. Or so I thought.” The sunlight behind the stained-glass windows suddenly became brighter and Milrath found it blinding. He had proudly stared at Casmia's face, but the light forced him to look down, making him look more humble than he wanted. “When I first saw you, I knew you were a sinner. That is the reason you came here in the first place, am I correct?” A moment of silence followed these words. However, Casmia soon continued. “You wanted to wash away your sins. That is a noble idea. You hoped that from faith you could find a blade of light that could slay your inner demons. But devoting your life to lord Melresh was not enough to kill them.” Milrath felt like there was a clawed hand inside him, crushing his heart more and more firmly with each word that came out of Casmia's mouth. His heart was a black one, but still a heart nonetheless. From the start Milrath had felt like Casmia could read his soul, but just how accurately he was able to do it was frightening. “I pity you, harbinger of darkness. You gave in to your inner evil and disturbed the house of Melresh. You wanted to feed your demons and so you fed them with the blood and flesh of your brothers. That can never be forgiven.” Milrath heard how multiple steps came closer to him. He could practically feel the eyes of priests on him, judging and despising him. He remained stationary like a statue, his head still low because of the brightness of the sunlight. He knew that this was the day of ultimate judgment, but would he accept it? “Brothers!” Casmia's voice echoed strongly in the room, so strongly that it almost felt like the building was shaking. “What is the fate of Milrath? Is it absolution and exile? Or is it execution?” There was only a short moment of whispering among the priests, they all came to the same conclusion very quickly. Milrath's black heart was trembling. “We have decided that Milrath's fate is…”

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