The Infinite Night

The Infinite Night is the foreteller of Death, To hear his bell is a death sentence.

## History

The Legend of how the infinite night came to be is one that has been told in Arkian legend for nearly as long as the city itself. This is a transcription of the tale:

The boy holds his lucky bell and stares out into the growing dusk. Night is coming and with it the promise of monsters worse than anything his father has ever described in his campfire stories. Rumours of endless massacres terrify him, and he hopes his mother and father will soon return. They heard a promise of safety to those hiding and they left with others to investigate. He spent the whole day staring at the dirt road leading out of the village waiting for them to return. A few returned with wounds and horror stories. Endless stories of death, destruction and mayhem. He didn't understand any of them. He feels a tear slip down his face, and he knows, just knows... he will never see his parents again.

*Grandmother Abigail hasn't smiled for days. A terrible smell of rotting flesh drifts into their village and she tells Philip it's the stench of decomposing cows. Philip nods, but knows she's just trying to protect him from the truth. He heard the elders talking by the well. So many dead and... they are burning the bodies before there is an investigation. Who is burning the bodies? Killing crews... Human butchers. Men paid to make his people disappear as though they were an infestation of cockroaches. A deal with the devil for money. He hates them all and tries to sleep but can't. All he can do is stare at the door where he hopes against hope to see his parents again. But he knows... they're never returning and all he has left is Grandmother Abi.*

*Abi approaches him and lies beside him. He leans his head against her and closes his eyes and cries. He hears her open her mouth to say something... but no words come out. He opens his eyes and she's crying silently. Before he can say anything, a bell rings, her face grows hard as she grabs him by the wrist and leads him outside to a hatch. A moment later they're underground with the muted sounds of slaughter vibrating through the ground. He squirms in Abi's embrace. She holds him tighter and tighter as cries and shrieks swell into an unbearable pandemonium. He never realised humans could emit such sounds and it's all he can do not to scream himself. He squirms and Abi covers his mouth just in case.*

*Silence. Horrible, gut-wrenching silence. Philip shifts uncomfortably in their make-shift bunker and listens for something... anything. Abi nudges him. "Let's see your maths skills, Philip!" Maths? She's trying to distract him from the hell outside. "Six plus twenty-four minus eight!" He works it out. "Twenty-two!" She smiles and nods. She levels another challenge and another. He answers with growing tears in his eyes. She touches his face. "Don't think about what is happening outside... listen to my words and play the game!" He nods and tries his best to work out her challenges... but he can't help but think about his mother... his father... They said maths would strengthen his brain. Make him good in school. Give him all kinds of opportunities his father never had. His father... he'll never do maths with him again... never play chess with him again... or hear his stories... and why? Because of men who take money to do the devil's work.*

*Abi nudges him. Philip asks her to repeat the challenge just as the cry of a toddler rips through the silence. He instantly looks to his grandmother. Her eyes go wide as she stands and approaches the ladder. Philip runs to her and grabs her hand. "Don't go... please... please...!" She hesitates, staring at the hatch above. "I cannot leave the boy out there alone!" Philip nods and wants to hold her soft, wrinkled hand forever. But he lets go and watches her as she bravely ascends the ladder and disappears into the scorching day.*

*Hours? Days? Weeks? He's not sure how much time has passed. His eyes never left the hatch as he repeated countless maths problems in his mind to avoid facing the truth that she has disappeared with the rest of his people. He hears her voice, her laugh, her sighs. He wants to see her again. He wants to see his parents. His friends and neighbours. He wants to see them all. But he knows... his life will never be the same again and he would rather be dead than live without them. He closes his eyes and ascends into the cool night. The smell of rotting humanity instantly assaults his senses. Reminds him of roadkill left in the sun for days... only... worse... He searches the moonlight ground and soon finds his father's bell by the charred, remains of a body. "What happened? You were supposed to keep a look out? You were supposed to warn us!" He takes the bell and cries out for his grandmother in a raspy whisper, but the whisper turns into an endless scream. He screams until he loses his voice, and all that answers back is the deafening silence of the cold, indifferent night. He falls to his knees, taps his bell with his finger, and wishes he could just disappear from this living nightmare.*

#### *Memory 660*

*Village to village it's always the same scene. Death and destruction. Burnt cars, homes, and bodies. His people disappearing in a seemingly endless mixture of fog and smoke. He can't move anymore. He doesn't have the strength or will. The smoke stings his eyes. The stench makes him want to retch with every inhale.*

*But most of all he can't take... the silence. The horrible silence. The oppressive, dreadful, indifferent silence. He stops and sits by a tree with a vulture hovering close to him, waiting for him to die. This one wants its meat fresh. Raw. Not burnt or doused in kerosene. He closes his eyes for a moment and drifts away, far away, but soon he hears a voice... a voice like his mother's... he opens his eyes to see a woman and several muddied children staring at him. The mother extends an open hand. "You must come with me!" Philip doesn't answer. He can't answer. There's no warmth or wetness in his mouth. His throat is like sand. His eyes are like tar. The woman hands him a flask, and he drinks as though he's never had water before. She tells him her name is Funanya and that he should come with her. "I don't want to run anymore... I want to die...!" The mother keeps her hand extended. "And that is why you must live... you must live to tell others what happened... to bear witness...!" Philip stares beyond the woman and fixes his gaze on one boy and two girls. He takes Funanya's hand and together they trudge into the thick smoke and fog refusing to be disappeared.*

#### *Memory 661*

*Philip enters a home that's been ransacked by killing crews. There's blood splatter on the wall and a dark, familiar stench.*

*Philip doesn't want to think about what happened to the owners. For a moment he sees his mother approaching him, but then she disappears to reveal Funanya. She approaches Philip with some salvaged school supplies. "Sometimes drawing helps get you get your mind off things!" Philip shakes his head. He doesn't want to draw and he doesn't want to do maths. He doesn't want to do anything, but wake up from this terrible nightmare. He stares at the other boy... Emeka... as he draws a picture of his village. He has a dozen colours to choose from, but he only uses black. Funanya doesn't understand why, but none of the colours appeal to him... it's as though he's stopped seeing colour. Philip stares at the picture of the colourless village and steps outside where Nikki and Chika keep watch. He shows them his father's lucky bell, though he's not sure it's so lucky anymore. He hands it to Nikki, explains she should ring it if she sees anything.*

#### *Memory 662*

*"I hate the smell of kerosene!" Funanya nods and agrees with Philip. "It's not the kerosene, but everything else attached to it!" Nikki looks at Funanya and asks why the crews are burning everything. Funanya doesn't answer and maybe she doesn't know. Philip turns to her. "They are burning evidence!" Nikki and Chika look to Funanya, and she nods. Philip hears his grandmother's voice. "Death plus destruction equals good business for devils disguised as humans." Philip grinds his teeth and answers the disembodied voice. "They should all be killed... those who pay for murder and those who profit from murder...!" Funanya stares at him. "Philip... don't say such things... they are trying to take our humanity from us and that is the one thing they cannot take unless we give it to them!"*

*Philip feels his face harden. "I don't want a sermon. I want my family back. I want them to pay for what they did!"*

*Funanya puts a hand on his shoulder. "Pray to the Angel of Mercy that we survive so that we may bear witness!" Philip stares past her at the growing night. "I'd rather pray to the Angel of Death and watch them suffer. Forgive, and be forgiven. I can't! I hate them! How can they take money to do such things?" "There will be justice, Philip. They will not get away with their crimes!" Philip doesn't say anything. He doesn't say anything because like his father he believes that those with money, those who can afford killing crews and the quantities of kerosene required to burn humans by the thousands, can get away with any crime they choose to commit - even mass murder. She can pray for mercy all she likes. He'd rather pray for vengeance.*

#### *Memory 663*

*Those who profit from murder are worse than animals. He can't get the idea out of his head that people would do such dreadful things for money. If he survives this... if he escapes this scorching hell... he'll have his revenge. He can't help but share his dark thoughts with Funanya who says that an eye for an eye is not the way. That an eye for an eye would make the whole world go blind and plunge us all into infinite night. The world go blind? The world is already blind to what is happening to him and his people. To hell with the world. The world doesn't care. All this unrest and destruction was meant to happen. It was a mathematical formula to divide and conquer and rob his country of its beloved resources. He heard the elders say this a hundred times. Funanya gives him more wise words from dead leaders and he stops talking about revenge. For a moment he thinks that maybe she's right. Maybe revenge is not the solution. Maybe the world will one day wake up from its slumbering indifference and help his people.*

#### *Memory 664*

*Nikki hands Philip back his bell in the dark night. It's his turn to watch for killing crews, but he hasn't slept in days and his eyelids are stones. He holds his bell close to his heart and for a moment just a moment he closes his eyes. Just for one minute. He awakens in the heat of morning with a start and a terrible feeling. He vaults to his feet and searches for his new friends. He finds one... pieces of one... of another... he's not sure. He hears someone moaning. He searches and finds... Funanya... not dead, but dying... sliced at every tendon... writhing in agony... covered in something golden... honey... they poured honey over her... and a million tiny black things swim, drown, and gorge on the gold and crimson streams dripping from her open wounds.*

*The ants are crawling under her skin and eating her alive. He kneels beside her and tries to swap them away but it's no use. They're everywhere. Funanya whimpers and sputters blood as she tries to speak. But her tongue is missing and all that issues is a terrible, rattling noise. Philip kneels before her. He doesn't know what to say or do. "I fell asleep... I'm sorry... so sorry...!" But sorry doesn't put her back together again. Sorry doesn't get rid of the ants or bring back the children she was protecting. She barely scratches something with her finger in the dirt. "I forgive."*

*Philip stares at the words for a long moment. Silent tears fall as he raises his hand in front her face. She closes her eyes and waits for her suffering to end. He doesn't want to do it, but he has to. He knows he has to. He closes his eyes and lowers his hand over her mouth and nose, and for a moment, just a moment, he becomes her Angel of Mercy.*

*Philip enters another decimated village under the cover of darkness and sees a crew... A killing crew. Maybe the very ones who killed his guardian. Maybe the very ones who killed his grandmother... his parents. No hell is good enough for these demons who would take money to disappear people. They're cooking something by a fire, laughing, and making jokes at the expense of those they butchered. They talk about his people as though they were animals. No. Less than animals. No one takes pride or ridicules the animals they slaughter. He's never seen anything like it. Dogs without humanity, that's what they are, dogs, rabid dogs, nothing less, nothing more. Something ancient tugs at him. He feels darkness like a tendril from another world take hold of his young, innocent heart. Not young or innocent, anymore. He hears Funanya's voice. "Forgive, and be forgiven!"*

*But he doesn't want to forgive and he doesn't want to be forgiven. He wants them to suffer like they made his people suffer. He wants them to suffer for taking everything from him. He hears his grandmother's voice trying to distract him from his dark thoughts of revenge with infinite maths problems. But over her voice is the raging, maddening heartbeat of his hate. Her voice screams out equations and challenges. But he glares at the men. He feels kerosene coursing through his veins and he's ready to explode. An eye for an eye and the whole world plunges into infinite night. Good.*

Philip notices their bows. He could grab one and shoot them all. But he's never used one and they'd probably run away. He could find a knife or machete... but these dogs would overpower him... "Just walk away. Never look back. It's your duty to survive and bear witness!" He ignores the voices in his head and only wants one thing. He wants them to suffer and disappear. He wants to... yes... take their oil and make them disappear the same way they made his friends and family disappear - in a swirl of smoke. And for a moment... just a moment... he is the Angel of Death swooping through infinite night.