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Cyrith

A new Messenger

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Things at the Millennium Mall seemed normal at lunchtime that day. The last few days of pleasant, almost spring like, weather had brought out groups of shoppers, many of whom were enjoying lunch at the food court. At first no one noticed a short, thin, almost sickly looking man enter the open air food court and stride purposely to the edge of the building. When he threw off his coat to reveal his simple black shirt and clerical collar, a few people looked and mumbled at the weirdo who had just thrown his coat over the balcony. When he began to yell, people began to listen. His voice is harsh, and of a higher pitch then most were expecting from such a severe looking man. Throwing back his head and shouting, the man begins to speak.

"Hear me Freedom City! I have come to you with a message. Your city has become a den of sin. You have opened yourselves to those who would corrupt you, allowed to flourish those who distract from the pursuits of the soul. And I can assure you, there is nothing more important than the soul. For one whose soul is pure is the only one who can hear my message, and can follow in my way. Only he who is pure shall receive the gifts. But you, Freedom City, you are not pure. You are corrupted! You hold in highest esteem your so-called heroes. You spend your time in worship to them. Not to the All-knowing, but to mere mortals. You have succumbed to the sin of Idolatry. But there is hope. I have come, a messenger of the higher power, to restore you to the path. I, with my unwavering faith, will restore you Freedom City. And once the rest of the world gazes on the beacon of chastity and morality that I will mold you to, they too will be restored to the path. But be wary Freedom, for the path is a very narrow path. You can not be allowed to waver! And those that do waver, will find themselves submitting to purification. But those that stay on the path, those that never stumble, and never fall, they shall be rewarded as I have been rewarded. For I fear no man, and my faith allows me to succumb to no wound of mortal means. Listen to me Freedom, head the words of the messenger, the chosen one, Matthias! Gaze upon me as I perform for you a miracle, that you may know that I am no liar."

Matthias, still facing the mostly silent crowd, steps up onto the railing of the balcony and throws himself, with arms extended, off the building. There are screams of fear and disbelief from the lunch crowd, and quite a few people rush to the edge of the balcony, expecting to see something very different than the man who has been preaching to them sitting up, eyes lifted to the heavens. He picks up his jacket and yells back to the balcony, "Remember what you have seen here today. Spread the message. For though I am a messenger, I am also permitted to judge, and to act with authority. A change is coming Freedom. Be with me!"

Matthias turns as he hears the sounds of sirens approaching. For a moment his face flashes with a burning, intense anger, but he turns from their source and runs toward the parking garage where he parked his car. Experience with other cities had taught Matthias that though they could not hope to stop him, police often brought in costumed beings. And though Matthias knows he will one day, likely soon, have to face down the false idols that make up the cities heroes, he also knows that now is not the time. He will wait until he knows the city. He will wait until he has the upper hand. And then judgment shall begin.

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