58. The Blight Test

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While Aja strapped in the remaining participants, two more priests entered with carts containing a few vials of liquid and needles. They approached me first, offering up a prayer and inviting me to join. I did, in hopes that the Three Mothers would give me strength, that they would guide me out of this darkness and into the light. But as I prayed, my stomach churned.

I was scared.

I was so scared.

"Is that really..." The word sat heavy at the back of my throat.

"Blight," the priestess finished while wielding the filled syringe. "Yes."

Memories resurfaced of the beast that cursed my dreams. Seeing Mama on the floor clutching the very thing killing her as if it gave her life. Her deranged eyes rolling into the back of her head accompanied by giggles and moans. What kind of monster made someone forget the fear of death?

I was about to find out. The syringe pierced my skin. I groaned, trying to prepare myself for the toxin, to steel myself into fighting it off. I was a fool.

Every thought faded away to be overtaken by a mixture of ecstasy and comfort. My muscles relaxed and my body trembled. The room swam as melted colors, twisting and combining to form vivid hallucinations. I imagined so many things; my family alive and well, laughing beside me. Standing along the edge of the sea, tasting the salt in the air. The metal tiles morphed into butterflies that fluttered around the room. Their wings tickled my cheeks. When I heaved a long breath, I tasted mint and chocolate and candy.

But then the colors faded and the world crumbled into dust. I cried, choked tears and whimpers mixed in with the deranged laughter of those around me. The highs and lows came and went. Sometimes we laughed. Sometimes we screamed. I didn't want to hear any of it... nor the moans. Or the creaking of my bed. The touch of someone's hands. Someone's lips on my neck. My chest. All of me. The pain I told myself was part of the hallucination. Even if my muddled mind tried to understand and accept the truth, I couldn't because after every high came a consuming rage. A desperation like no other, and a thirst that couldn't be quenched without blight. Without another hit that sent me reeling.

The time spent strapped to that bed felt too long and too short. I screamed out in a desperate plea for more. But the priests would skip a dose or lessen it and we all lashed out. I heard the others. Kicking. Screaming. Gnawing at the leather straps until our lips and gums bled. I nearly bit through my own tongue to get the priest's attention. They had to gag me afterwards.

Day after day, night after night, I felt the ecstasy of blight, then the sudden down. And when I was so addicted I honestly believed I'd rather slit my own throat than go a minute in the real world, the priests stopped coming all together.

We screamed and screamed until some of the trainees went eerily quiet. Then came the sweats. I thought I was on fire one moment and frozen the next. I struggled breathing. My muscles ached. My bed sores bled. I'd beg the priests for just a drop, just one little taste to ease the pain, but they wouldn't give any of us so much as an herb to chew on for the pain.

Weeks went by before I took my first painless breath and another two before the priests shot me up for the last time. But it wasn't the same. When the priest spoke, I actually heard him say, "Seren, who is speaking to you?"

"Priest... Aja."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"How are you feeling?"

"...drowsy," I whispered, only realizing a few moments later that drowsy was all I felt. No pleasure. No pain. Just exhaustion.

"Good, that's very good." Aja placed his hand on my arm. The touch felt oddly familiar... and uncomfortable. Like poison. Like pure fear. I thought of the bed creaking. The scent of cigar smoke that I only now realized lingered around him. And pain. I pulled my arm away, staring wide-eyed at Aja. That fear amplified, for some reason, like something wasn't right. When I blinked, I thought I remembered Aja on top of--

"Drink this." Aja handed me a glass of water. I chugged it, hoping it'd help disperse the convoluted memory of Aja leaning over my bed, of his twisted smile and his hands all over me. It was a nightmare. Nothing more. Something the darkness tried to use to hurt me, tried to make me lose faith.

"You've done well to pass this test," Aja added. "The Three Mothers smile upon you and led you here. No longer will you fall prey to the vampire's evil. Their bites will make you tired, like this, but you can overcome it, can't you?"

"I can," I croaked. Peering about the room, I noticed some of the beds were empty. "Some are missing..."

"They did not pass the test."

I knew some of them. Friends from the orphanage. Those I talked to and laughed with not that long ago. They left without me getting a chance to say goodbye.

Aja put his hand on my shoulder. I wanted to puke.

"Do not worry, my child," he said. "The Three Mothers will guide their souls to return here when they're ready."

Then he left to inspect the others, leaving me to practically inhale the food on my tray. I passed the test. I was on the path to becoming a paladin, battling the very beasts that caused such pain to others. The memories of Aja, they were... they were a lie. No matter what the darkness tried, I would not lose faith. The Holy Church was my family.

Family would never hurt each other.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

And there we have it; how Seren became immune to blight and all that he went through. Did you expect it to be this bad? Will Seren ever be able to truly face his past? Will he ever be able to tell Lore or anyone about all that he has went through?

 Did you expect it to be this bad? Will Seren ever be able to truly face his past? Will he ever be able to tell Lore or anyone about all that he has went through?

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