The Lifeless Light: A Tale from Dema

Chapter Three: Behind the Curtain

The sun rested low in the sky. Another day of consistency and hard work was finished. Yet I never thought it would end with me fleeing the city one final time—this time for the sake of my life.

When I returned to the city a month prior, Keons, gracious as he was, found a way to preserve my status within the monastery in spite of my transgression. I could continue the work I knew. The only remaining mark of my adventure was the issued "failed perimeter escape" badge put into my file.

"FPE" badges were typically worn like a scarlet letter for an entire year by those who ventured through Trench but skirted the highest reprimand. Keons willingly negotiated on my behalf and spared me utter humiliation. While I was rather upset with the dismal life I came back to, his kindness made it just a little more bearable. I shuddered to think where I would be without his benevolence.

I walked through the calm streets of Dema, heading back to my dwelling in the third tower. It was time to prepare for tonight's Assemblage—when the dead were unified with the light of the city and properly laid to rest. Attendance was mandatory.

It was about an hour before I unexpectedly met the Banditos—completely unaware of their mission to free their smeared friend.

I habitually brushed my back pocket to check my keys. A rush of anxiety boiled in my stomach. I grasped for them again—nothing. Stopping in my tracks, I franticly tried to remember where I misplaced them.

Earlier that morning, I brought supplies to the third tower, then purchased bread for the sacred banquet at noon. The majority of the late afternoon consisted of collecting, preparing, and releasing those who had passed. They were the final individuals to be honored in this year's Assemblage.

When summoned to the Quiet Room, the Bishops transferred the vessels to us—empty bodies draped in white cloth and resting on special mobile platforms. I, and a small group of fellow servants, rolled these platforms to the Chamber of Ash, where the rest of the process would take about four hours. I finished my work by having dinner with close friends—a fresh breath of air after something so heavy and somber.

The last time I recalled possessing my keys was in between lunch and standing in the Quiet Room. I remembered placing them down when the vessels rolled out from behind the curtain.

I made my way down to the sub-level of the nine-towered monastery, where both the Quiet Room and Chamber of Ash stood. A guard was assigned to protect both rooms, but I knew there wouldn't be a problem gaining access. When I approached the entrance to the Quiet Room, the brawny guard furrowed his brow at me. No one, except a bishop, entered at such an hour.

"I seem to have left my keys in there, Leal," I said.

"Ah! I see," he replied, before his face fell to apprehension. "...Are you sure you need them?"

I was perplexed by his odd question, "Of course I do. I can't even get into my room without them—and the Assemblage begins in 45 minutes."

"Ah yes," Leal conceded. "You're right. Just ... make it quick."

"Certainly," I reassured.

I entered and walked down the curved, walled-in flight of stairs. The door shut behind me—echoing through the chamber. When transferring the vessels below, workers accessed another passageway, level with both chambers. A long, wide hallway connected the two rooms, making our work much easier.

When I reached the bottom of the stairwell, a tall, fiery-red curtain towered before me. Its thick, heavy fabric stretched from the ceiling to the floor, supported by a sliver rod. Only Bishops were allowed to cross it.