Chapter 17
He woke to a state of exhaustion. Having successfully used what God had given him required a great deal of strength. Eventually, Aiden would learn to recover more quickly. But for the time being, the Abbot had given him a few days to himself, away from the routine of monastic life. There was, however, one condition. He would have to stay within the walls of the monastery. Venturing out alone was not allowed as, occasionally, the call of worldly life could be a little too strong. So for those few days, Aiden made use of the library. He walked the halls in meditation and spent a considerable amount of time praying in the chapel, seeking God's divine counsel. But on that day, he spent most of his time in his cell. He had come to a point where there was nothing more that books could offer and would have to continue learning through experience and instinct. He demonstrated this to himself while in his cell, working with the glowing blue orb he'd used to destroy the grimoire. Using his will and imagination, he brought his mind into oneness with the ball of light, making it change in both color and shape. There was still a great deal to master.
Aiden took his dinner alone in his cell that evening. A bowl of water, two apples, and loaf of bread and a piece of venison. Meat was a rare commodity in the moors, but two of the monastery's best hunters had brought back a large buck. What remained would be heavily salted and stored. Monks were not known to eat heavily. Doing so was considered a sign of decadence, so a heavy set monk was unheard of. But that night, everyone at the Urielin monastery ate well.
The night always brought a chill to the stone walls of the monastery, turning the air inside to ice. Aiden sat in front of the single candle, standing on his small reading table. He brought his hands only inches from its yellow flame, trying to exploit what little heat it produced. Again, without warning, the Abbot pushed open the door of his cell and motioned him into the hallway. The first few times this happened, Aiden had been startled by the Abbots sudden appearance. Now, making use of his gift, he could almost hear the Abbots heartbeat as he approached. Grabbing his robes, he followed the Abbot outside where a large fire roared as his fellow monks sat in two lines, one on each side of him. They sat on their ankles with their knees in front, as if about to pray. The two turned toward the other as the Abbot spoke.
"Aiden," he began. "You have passed every test with great courage and character. Now, it is time for you to receive the mark of this Order."
He instructed Aiden to remove his hood and lie down on the ground. As he did so, he glanced up at the fire and noticed a branding iron leaning against a rock, one end glowing in the fire.
The Abbot stood several paces from his feet and within an unemotional expression, ordered that Aiden's hands and feet be bound to four stakes, planted deeply in the ground near him. Remembering back to his purging, Aiden came to the conclusion that this would be another painful test of faith. He cooperated completely as the ropes were tied tightly around his wrists and ankles. The trust he held in the Abbot and his fellow monks was unquestionable and he knew that he would survive anything the Abbot could put him through.
"You are Aiden, of the Urielin Order," the Abbot began. "Throughout your life, you have met many challenges and passed every test. You are now ready to receive the mark of the Order and go out into the world to carry out your purpose, as assigned to you by God."
He motioned two of the monks over. They crouched down near him, one holding him by the sides of his head while the other retrieving the branding iron from the fire. It glowed with a white heat that Aiden felt against his head, long before he saw it. Holding the branding iron, the monk stood over him, each foot at either side of his body. Again, the Abbot spoke.
"Receive this mark forever on your body as a constant reminder of the struggle between all that is good and holy and everything that so much as whispers of evil, darkness, and sin. In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
The hooded monks that sat surrounding him chanted the Abbots Latin repeatedly as the glowing end of the branding iron was lowered onto his forehead. Once it made contact, the hands that held it pushed it down into Aiden's forehead. He tried to be strong as the stench of his own burning flesh made its way into his nose, the smoke burning his eyes as his painful screams were heard across the moors. Any settlers with the misfortune of being awake that night would hear his shrieking and quickly attribute it to something dark. The work of the devil. But, no one with an ounce of sanity would be willing to investigate. Not on the moors and definitely not at night.
The ropes were removed from his wrists and ankles and Aiden was allowed to sit up. The end of the branding iron was shown to him. It's forged design still glowed brightly against the night sky. Its appearance was strange, yet somehow familiar. A figure eight lying on its side, a double crucifix rising from its intersecting center. As he got to his feet the other monks pushed their hoods back to reveal the same symbol, burned into the same place. But, there was a difference. Theirs were upside down. Aiden's mind spun with the shock of having his skull branded and wasn't nearly clearheaded enough to consider this difference. Later, the Abbot would tell him that his fellow monks had also experienced the same series of tests, but failed in their attempts to wield God's might. Aiden realized that he may well have been chosen for some divine purpose, that the majority of his life had led up to a few seconds of burning agony, that all the torment brought upon him over the course of his life was for the glory of God.
He awoke the next morning with the familiar feeling of exhaustion. He had come to expect that the most valuable challenges in life came with varying degrees of pain. One may not remember the sensation of pain, but one always remembers the associated experience. Therefore, pain sets the lesson into memory and with the brand, Aiden now carried on his forehead, the event of that dark night would be with him forever.
Again, the Abbot brought him food and water. But this time, he opened the door slowly. Any other time, he would simply open the locked door with little regard for Aiden's privacy. Now, the Abbot seemed somewhat careful. Perhaps respectful. But Aiden quickly discounted this possibility and came to the conclusion that the Abbot may have become afraid of him. After placing the food and water on Aiden's small table, the Abbot left as quickly as he had arrived. Sitting up on the edge of his cot, he leaned over the wooden bowl of water. The monastery was absent of any mirrors. Looking for God didn't ordinarily involve staring at one's own image. Aiden resorted to the waters reflecting surface as he inspected the burn on his forehead. It was deep and red around the edges. But Aiden thought it best to leave it uncovered, so as to speed its healing. Eventually, it would turn into a thick, inflexible scar and a great deal of time needed to pass before he grew accustomed to the sensation of its presence.