Chapter 16
Autumn was approaching and Aiden had become as much an expert woodsman as any of his brethren. Again, he found himself and the Abbot, standing outside the back wall of the monastery. By this time, he was able to read aloud the Rite of Exorcism without referencing the text. He did, however, hold the Bible close as a powerful link with the Almighty. Up to this point, the book of black magic had not changed, to any degree. But, there was one thing Aiden began to notice. At first, he thought it might be the difference in warmth between the inside of the monastery and the cool autumn air. He discounted this idea when he realized that the only part of his body to be affected were his hands. It was upon speaking the rite of exorcism that Aiden felt his hands warm significantly. Heat without burning. The only explanation he could arrive at was that it must be of divine origin. Given the strength of his faith, there could be no other reason.
The Abbot's words of advice were the same as they had always been. 'Concentrate. Focus on the book. Speak from your heart.' The Abbot continued to speak with sincerity and patience, yet Aiden was beginning to find the repetition of his words exhausting. But, he was beginning to feel a change. Something building within him. Vague, yet obvious. But with the Abbot behind him, Aiden once again, stood in front of the grimoire reciting the rite of exorcism. Almost halfway through, he felt his hands warm. Following his belief that this was an extension of the hand of God, he continued without hesitation. He lost himself in the words as the of his hands spread rapidly, enveloping the rest of his body. The Abbot watched carefully as the dried grass around his feet began to blacken. After all the years of waiting, the power of God would be revealed before his very eyes. And with his attention shifted to the grimoire, the Abbot watched in wonder as its cover began to blister, then liquify. Waves of heat rose from its surface as Aiden continued the rite. Seconds later, the pages blacken as smoke transformed into fire. The book of black magic suddenly collapsed into ash. The evil contained within it leaped up and flew off like a bat, terrified of the night.
Aiden finished the rite. But even though the grimoire's evil nature had been expelled, the exorcism required closure. Regardless of the outcome, if the rite was interrupted, the opportunity would arise for the arrival of Hells unholy minions. The devil never did his own dirty work. Not when he could command others to do it for him. Aiden expected he would deal with one or two of these creatures, soulless soldiers of darkness and death. But, he would also need to be mindful of keeping the devil's door shut. Without the final prayer, the consequences would certainly be dire.
Through Aiden, the power of God had destroyed the grimoire. In a state of shock and disbelief, he took a few steps back as the Abbot approached him. "The Spirit of God now moves through you," he said. Aiden brought his hands up and readily noticed a faint blue shimmer surrounded them. After months of preparation, he had finally accomplished what he was beginning to think of as impossible. Had it not been for the Abbots words of encouragement, he might have believed it had not happened at all but had perhaps occurred in a waking dream. The Abbot, however, stood in awe, having witnessed the culmination of three centuries of waiting and preparation. As Aiden lowered his hands, the Abbot touched his arm and spoke with a comforting voice.
"This is a great day Aiden. You are ready now."
The reality of his first successful exorcism was beginning to sink in, but Aiden was still confused.
"But father," he began. "It's only a book. How can this be done when the host is living flesh?"
The Abbot smiled gently.
"It matters not what the devil has taken. From one accursed thing to another, evil does not change its nature. You did not exorcize the book, but the evil within it." Aiden walked up to the grimoire's black ashen remains. And as his gaze became fixed in the charred heap, a question arose in his mind. He turned toward the Abbot with a look of concern.
"In destroying what had taken possession of the book, the book itself was destroyed. Will this be true of a living host as well? Will I have to kill the innocent to purge out the creatures within them?"
The Abbot immediately saw his concern and paused to gather the right words. "We are lowly servants of God," he answered. “It is not for us to decide who lives and who dies. In performing your service to Him, you act only as an implement. Nothing more."
The idea was simple, but thinking made it complicated. Aiden came to understand their conversation in simple terms. God does not show Himself to us directly, but molds our lives like clay, shaping them to the conditions of His divine plan. Aiden was simply another ball of clay and it was not for him to question the part he would play on the world stage of God. He had always believed that there was a role for everyone, but only if each of us accepted the part. The day was soon coming when he would leave the monastery and wander out into the world, alone. Doing God's work was the only thing that mattered. There was nothing else. Life had fallen into black and white, right and wrong, good and evil. Those who assisted him, he would see as being one with the grace of God. Those who would not he would see as obstacles, to be put aside by whatever means necessary in order to carry out his divinely assigned purpose. With his blade at his side, Aiden would open himself as a vessel to the will of God, giving aid and defense to the weak, fighting the devils work like a man cursed with lunacy.