The Heretic: ACT III

By Matthew David Carroll

...The one that ties all the others together...

"The landscape warped again, Kairos caught it this time, like a distorted mirrored image.

Cold tingles electrify his body suddenly recognizing a ghostly presence.

His horse began rearing.

The volunteer still held his knife to the wretch’s throat.

“Wait,” Kairos told him.

The volunteer pulled back his knife and kicked the wretch to the ground.

Kairos surveyed the tree line, not at eye level but the branches behind the leaves.

The wretch smiled, his crazy eyes followed Kairos.

“You’ve seen her before.”

Kairos thinking he should’ve let the volunteer kill him.

The smell of ink in the air, he flashed back to the battle and the same woods snow covered.

He’d seen now then, and vice versa.

He pulled in his breath to keep his eyes from watering as his blood boiled.

He heard her say.

...

“Look at you,”

His body acknowledged no reaction, but he could not stay on horseback and dismounted.

He looked at the wretch.

“What is this?” He demanded.

Snow fall hit his cheek. He looked up at it falling all around. He looked back everyone was gone and the ground was covered.

A penetrating mesmerization.

She said

...

“Look at you”

(not a light read, expansive, expressive)

#Fantasy, #Horror, #Time Travel, #paranormal, #Mythic

This is a work of fiction, the product of the author’s imagination used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
© 2020

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matthew David Carroll
• Release date: Dec 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005731175

Matthew David Carroll

Hello,For those of you who are new, I hope you enjoy.If you've already read some of these, I'm glad you're back.It's been terrible for building trust and invites all sorts of nonsense, but my lack of presence is better for new readers to get into the story and character. So I'm elusive for that reason, mostly.If you're interested in getting to know me, forgive us, you can check my other social media for that, but I'm afraid you won't find much at the moment. I keep putting it off.Some of these are quick easy reads I hope will leave you laughing or with some sort of satisfied wonder (I know. I'm finishing them.) Others are over stylized with complex plot structures that require inquisition.I can't promise you'll like everything I write, but you'll know (for the most part) what you're getting into.Complex issues, simple themes. Characters opinions are their own.If you like any of them please share. I appreciate every one of you who have.

Book preview

Dedication:

Two faces

Trading places

Madness waiting patiently

The Heretic

ACT III

Copyright 2020 Matthew Carroll

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction, the product of the author’s imagination used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

~***~

SCENES

Trespass

Relay

The Village

Failsafe

Hidden

Reunions

Unveil

Trespass

The water, soothing ripples in the scrying pool interrupted by the echoes of the olive grower’s slave.

Why are you doing this to me!

The waves, white lines reflecting amid the cold dark room.

Two guards drag the wretch into the tholos and drop him, The Hierophant and Cleric behind them light the braziers around the room then approach the slave.

The wretch, weak. Please don’t let them! He pleaded.

The Cleric looked concerned.

The hierophant tells him, It weaves both dreams and nightmares in his mind staying in the background until it needs to take control. He hides it from himself.

Is this wise? The Cleric asked.

It’s all we have.

But it has never worked.

Because there has never been a reason.

The Hierophant removed the ornament from his scepter. Inside, an orb containing a strange crystalline mixture.

He placed it in the Clerics nerve ridden hands.

The Cleric held it out as he approached the pool.

He placed it on the central pedestal and kneeled.

He closed his eyes and cleared his lungs.

The slave’s forehead beads of sweat he looked up at the Hierophant demanding pity.

It isn’t in me… The slave insisted.

A blinding soft light emitted from the orb quickly enveloped the room.

A piercing silence, then light rain drops in water.

The Cleric opened his eyes.

He was somewhere else.

Rainfall reflecting in the moonlight from the oculus in the dome, it fell into a pool a step from the floor, the water gently overflowing.

He touched the columns, examining them closely. He was in the ruined temple, the marble pristine glazed in light oil.

He placed his hand over the pool catching the rain.

It was real.

He looked at his reflection in the full moon