Path of the Sinned [FANTASMICAL 2023]

Lilith's Stone (Lowfantasy)

January 3, 1835,

I saw her last night. In a dream.

God forgive me, but she was more beautiful than I had ever imagined. She entered my chamber. her long raven-colored tresses reaching below her waist. With lonely grace, she drew them to one side, and the moonlight on the floor reflected her naked form.

I knew I should look away. I tried to. 

My mind reached for God's grace. Instead, I breathed her name.

Lilith...

She sighed in answer. God, the longing in her voice pierced my soul.

She knelt beside my bed. Her hand slipped under my head, supporting me. I'm left wretched at the memory of her touch. Her eyes held me prisoner. A willing prisoner. I couldn't have turned away even if I wanted.

She spoke to me, but with words I could neither hear nor understand. As she spoke, she undid the top of my nightclothes, spreading the collar apart to lay bare my chest. I wanted to ask why she did this, but I could only whisper her name. 

She laid her palm just below my bosom. At once I felt an unbearable fire burn in my lungs. I thought my heart must be inflamed. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. I thought perhaps this wasn't a dream but death.

But Lilith's gaze was so tender, so lonely, I couldn't fear her. So I rebelled the pain, but surrendered myself to its maker. 
  
And that's when I saw it. The glimmering stone embedded in her swarthy bosom. A tear of blood fell from her eyes, staining the stone crimson, and dislodging it from her chest.

It fell upon mine. 

The pain transformed into bliss, into strength. I felt my body transcend the chains of mortality, as if soul and flesh were one. The walls of my chamber fell away. Lilith held me in her arms as room after room of the university flashed by in endless stream of moments. Like we were anchored in a sea of unending change.

I was happy. 

Her fingers caressed my skin. I heard her murmur one last word. It sounded sorrowful. Then she plucked the stone from my chest.

Everything stopped. The pain returned, redoubled. Her spell shattered and I screamed. Crying out, Lilith dropped the stone. She fell, weeping, unable to look at me. I watched as the crimson stone sank beneath the flagstones of the courtyard alcove.  

And I heard a whisper, "Seek." 

I woke in a cold sweat, my chest burning up. The sound of her sobs echoed in my head and I was overwhelmed with a fierce urge to find the stone. I stumbled from my bed. The rush of air between my open collar cooled my sweat, leaving me cold. Throwing a cassock over my bedclothes, I fumbled through the halls.

Every step was torture but I couldn't stop. I must've been mad, obsessed, driven by a single thought. I wondered if this was how beasts thought. I crossed the porter once. Thank God it was the dead of night. Or the porter would have seen my disheveled state. I know he could hear it in my voice. I managed to convince him I wanted to keep a midnight vigil in the chapel. I had overslept, hence my hurry. And, no, I didn't need a companion to pray with me. Thank you.

It seemed ages later when I finally reached the courtyard. I could barely see. The night was moonless, starless too. I felt along the walls to find the alcove. The fever had spread from my chest, and my head swam with agony. I had to clutch the stone structures to keep from falling more than once.

At length my hands touched the familiar worn arch. I ducked inside and collapsed. Oh, I would have just let myself fall then, but I felt her whisper in my heart, like a healing balm.

Seek...

Rolling onto my stomach, I clawed between every flagstone, desperate to find one that was loose. The stones battered my fingertips. I felt a dampness on my knuckles, tasted a metallic scent on my tongue. I didn't care.

My head pounded. The fire in my chest consumed me; I tore my collar apart, exposing my upper body to the night air. I feel ashamed as I write this. When I think what might have happened had I been found, crazed, hands bleeding, lying half-naked on the cold flagstones for desperate relief. Rodger would have me shut up in a madhouse. Or excommunicated.

I tried to pray. Some vague blasphemous form of the Hail Mary came out. And ended with her name. Over and over. 

Until I heard my voice echoed back to me. From a flagstone just below my face. I  wrenched it away and clawed the gravel and earth beneath it.

My fingers touched it before my eyes saw. 

The crimson stone.

Immediately, I sensed the fever drawn from my body, absorbed into stone. In the wake of the fire, I was hollow, emptied of myself. Weightless. Filled with Lilith's whisper. 

I drew the blood from my fingers over the stone. And swore upon it never to rest until I found her again.


January 5, 1835,

...I've tried to remember what happened after I made that vow. But it's all a vague recollection. 

I know Uncle scolded me for my laziness, but the porter came to my defense. I let him. Later I heard rumors of a displaced flagstone in the alcove. Odd that.  

Tonight, I had to fit the stone in a small pouch around my neck. To keep it on me at all times. Whenever I leave it, the absence makes the fever return. Yesterday I barely made it back to my room before the thought of the stone overrode all my control. I had to conceal it in my hand the rest of the day.

I don't know if Lilith cursed me and the stone is her cure. Or vice versa.

...but I can still sense her presence in the stone.

I will look at the tome tonight.