Fisher: Empty Saints

The beginning of the end

Philip walked through the streets of Sigil at a leisurely pace. Street lamps shone, the weather was fine. But nobody else occupied the streets. Not a single resident of Sigil stepped out of their homes today. Because today marks the end of the world. It won't be long before the world is consumed by the monsters that have haunted it since day one. And Philip knew this.

He stopped by the docks and stood for a while, admiring the sunset once more. The waves turned a brilliant, vivid orange, still serene as ever. Philip took out a photograph from his cloak. A photograph of himself and a pretty woman, both happy. He still had his right eye in this photo. His cloak began to flap violently in the cold breeze. The sky turned darker as the sun left Philip's sight. He looked up at the stars, his hair flapping forth. He raised the photograph to the sky and let it go. He watched as the memory soared away. Philip turned to walk away, whispering to himself out loud:

"I'll see you soon, Valora."

The blood moon loomed over Sigil now. The evil in the air was now easily noticeable, as shadows fell over the city and monsters kept trying to claw their way past the massive walls of the city. Philip walked quickly now, a determined stride, instead of meandering like earlier. He kept walking until he stood at the gates of the church of Sigil. He stepped inside.

Figures in cloaks chanted, noticeably unnerved after seeing Philip arrive. There were cloaked priests and priestesses singing throughout the hall on two floors. Philip kept walking through the center of the church and stopped at the bottom of the stairs to the stage. A single priestess in black and white robes raised her arms. The chanting stopped immediately, leaving behind a frightening reverb that shook the flames of the candles that were lit. She pulled down her hood, revealing her short curly hair and smooth dark-skinned face.

"You've come to fulfil the prophecy at last, Philip."

"I didn't come to fulfil your prophecy."

Philip crossed his arms. The figures were noticeably disturbed by his defiance.

"I came to avenge someone."

The priestess rested her hands on the altar in front of her.

"You know the prophecy, Philip. A Fisher will seemingly appear from thin air and prevent the end times."

"Either way, we want the same thing. I want to kill Vail Vanguard, and you want the harbinger of the end dead. So we've got a common interest."

"So why are you here, Fisher?"

"I need my gun."

The priestess gestured to other priests to come over. They pulled on both sides of the altar. Philip watched as the secret compartment came apart, revealing his magic handgun he'd used when he worked as a royal guard. He made his way up the stairs and grabbed it, remembering the weight of the tiny machine.

The priests all knelt down and prayed for Philip. Some of them followed him as he went into the courtyard. The priestess led Philip's mount, a massive wolf, to him. He climbed on and faced the gates to the city, preparing to leave.

"Fisher."

The priestess called. Philip slightly turned to her.

"God be with you."

Philip turned away, resting his hand on his sword.

"God's gonna sit this one out."