19
Believ
I”m pacing up and down the wall, determined to find a way in, or at least catch whatever is being said in this room.
No matter how hard I try to keep a low profile, I can”t completely hide my footsteps. My heels keep clicking on the stone floor. A kind of echo bounces from wall to wall, amplifying the signs of my passage. Eventually, it”ll give me away. I have no choice: I take off my sneakers, tie the laces together, and slip them around my neck. I find myself in my socks on the shiny flagstones, made slippery by wear and tear.
I scan the hallway until I hear the sound of voices. If they”re shouting like that, maybe standing behind the door will be enough to let me hear this unsettling exchange. I press my ear against the door and hold my breath. The shouting continues, but I can”t make out what”s being said.
The sheer volume of the clamor makes me realize, however, that this isn’t a conversation between a handful of men. I”m afraid the entire chapter of monks is here! Why such a gathering? Who are these people who have come to meet the monks? And why is this audience being held in a remote basement room?
The most important thing is to avoid being noticed. I place my hand on the handle and turn it slowly, before carefully opening the door. I slide my head into the gap and discover that it”s an amphitheater. Monks and visitors are chatting loudly below.
As I enter the huge hall where the debate is taking place, an intense thrill runs through me. I feel as if I”m witnessing a major event; not just for me, but for humanity.
My presence has never been so discreet. I sneak up behind the last seats, close to the door I leave ajar, and stare at this strange spectacle I never thought I would witness. I can now clearly hear this surreal exchange:
“With all due respect, your Brotherhood only exists because we tolerate it! You must submit to our rules and our will!”
That voice! I recognize it; it”s one of those I heard earlier last night!
What brotherhood is he talking about? How many of them gravitate to the shadows?
I”m lost in conjecture before plunging back into the lively debate below.
“I hear you, Your Lordship, and you know perfectly well that we”ve been at it for centuries now. But this is too much! We can”t go on like this. We refuse to—”
“What do you mean, you refuse? When did you think we were asking for your opinion?”
“That”s enough of that! You don”t have to address us in that tone of voice! You run your Church, I run my Brotherhood; to each his cross!”
“You don”t understand! Your Brotherhood only exists because we created it. And why do you think we did it? Because it”s useful to us!”
“You”ve taught me nothing. We understand perfectly well that our services serve your cause. Otherwise, why do you insist on them so insistently?”
“Unfortunately, I don”t think you understand everything. You”re not just here to assist us, you”re an integral part of our institution. A subsidiary, of sorts.”
“How so?”
The man who appears to be the Brotherhood”s leader chokes on his words. He’s clearly outraged by what he has just learned.
“Obviously, you didn”t think the Church would risk getting its hands dirty or being double-crossed. The Sin Eaters Brotherhood was created centuries ago precisely to avoid this kind of unpleasantness.”
The Sin Eaters Brotherhood!
Is the Sin Eaters Brotherhood an arm of the Church? It can”t be!
And what have I got to do with it?
What”s my role?
“You look surprised. Did you really not know?”
Those I now guess to be Sin Eaters remain mute, stunned. So the one I spotted when they arrived isn’t an infiltrator, but an unofficial guest!
“Let me tell you the story in more detail. To get to the point... A few centuries ago, faith in the Church was declining so dangerously—to the benefit of belief in magic—that we had to act to halt this predicted decline. We were forced to kill two birds with one stone: exterminate magic at any cost and frighten the population to keep it under the yoke of the Church. However, we had no effective means of doing so, despite the presence of sorcerers devoted to our cause—yes, I know, it”s paradoxical, but as long as everyone gets something out of it, there”s no need to be too fussy—and we weren”t in a position to get rid of magical beings once and for all.”
Magic? There are sorcerers in the pay of the Church! Like that supernaturalist who took me in at Sir Jones”s...
“That”s where the Sin Eaters came in,” he continues, clearly delighted to unpack this crucial information. “Under the guise of offering forgiveness to the dead, you have enabled us to banish thousands of magical beings from this dimension once and for all. As far as humans are concerned, your intervention has only minimal effects, but it does have a significant psychological influence. The Sin Eaters, therefore, play an essential role in our supremacy. To establish our dominance, we had to be sure that your office would be assured at all times. And what better way to do this than to forbid the use of your services?”
I”m stunned. My colleagues are too, judging by their posturing, even though they clearly knew that the Church”s condemnation of us was merely a facade designed not to tarnish its already crumbling reputation. By giving our lives and our souls, we believed we were doing a good deed, working on the right side, even if it never occurred to me to imagine the Church playing on the wrong side.
In truth, we were the playthings of higher authorities, destined to control citizens in spite of ourselves and turn them into docile sheep, frightened by a radical sentence.
The Master of the Brotherhood finally intervenes.
“I don”t understand how you could have hidden such a thing from us. Our books would have mentioned it. It can”t be true. You”re lying!”
“Let”s just say we didn”t leave anything to chance. Once your Brotherhood was up and running, we erased its genesis to make sure it functioned perfectly. The first person to play your role was captured before we could reveal the inner workings of our collaboration. How could you have played the game of the desperate faithful if you didn”t believe in this divine ban yourselves?”
“And the sacrificed Sin Eaters?” he asks feverishly.
“In the beginning, we were involved. It was necessary to make this prohibition as tangible as possible. Our faithful needed to know that sins could only be absolved by God Himself, and that any other means would be perilous. In this way, the practice could remain confidential and have the desired effect.”
“What are the expected effects?”
“I told you: the annihilation of all magic that does not emanate from our Lord!”
“How can we be responsible for the disappearance of magic? As you know, we use it to recruit our members...”
“That was the subtlety of this manipulation. We don”t mind what you do with it. On the other hand, it was necessary to erase its existence from the minds of ordinary mortals. How can you ensure your power over someone who is convinced that magic will come to their rescue? Thanks to you, uncontrolled magical manifestations have been reduced over time, and with them, beliefs. Confronted with the harshness of reality, people have turned in abundance to faith, the only magic still ‘tolerated.’ And that”s where the mass effect comes in.”
“But what does it actually do for you?”
“Everything! At the time, cash flow was at its worst, and people no longer wished to finance the Church. All this was necessary to remobilize them and assure us of their devotion to our cause. To us, in short!”
“But how can you, who preach humanity, solidarity, and love, condone such a scheme? You”re abusing these poor people for your own individualistic ends, sanctioned by your own rules!”
“You mean this old book,” mocks the monk, pointing with a dismissive gesture to a scratched Bible lying not far from him. “You know, if there”s one thing history—and Nebuchadnezzar, in particular—has taught us, it”s that rules are best respected when they”re written down. The trick is to wrap them up nice and tidy to get the message across. Then it”s just a matter of repeating them and inviting the faithful to immerse themselves in them in their spare time.”
When he finishes his sentence, a heavy silence settles in place of the heated debate, somewhere between amazement and protest. No one really knows how to react, whether it”s the Sin Eaters or the brothers, some of whom are also stunned.
This unpacking is ill-timed, yet the man from whom it emanates has a huge smile on his face. A terrifying smile. I”m sure he wouldn”t be so arrogant if he didn”t still have some cards up his sleeve. In fact, if he”s admitting all this, it”s probably because he”s several moves ahead and is certain to win.
A member of the Brotherhood in his thirties, visibly preoccupied, shyly speaks up.
“How could we have participated in such things without realizing it? Personally, I”ve never seen or even glimpsed a magical creature.”
“That”s the genius of our organization, young man. If you think you”ve never seen one, it”s only because we”ve concealed them from your eyes with a crude enchantment. You were so convinced that you were working for the good of others, in accordance with your conscience, that a simple transformation spell was enough to fool you as to the appearance of the deceased to whom you were offering your services.”
“A transformation spell...” he murmurs, incredulous.
“Absolutely. What word have you missed in what I”ve just told you? Although you seem convinced of the contrary, you are superficial beings, more attached to appearance than to the heart. Deceiving you was child”s play. In fact, that”s the mission entrusted to our guild...”
He then lets out a Machiavellian laugh.
I”m afraid I understand: so even I, who is just discovering the original scope of magic, have contributed to its extinction?
Does my meeting with Ember have any particular meaning in this centuries-old plot?
Does he belong to the community of magical creatures whose appearance has been masked? Could he be a victim of this genocide?