The Day of Transformation

When Shenaria and Matthias woke, they found themselves lying surrounded by ill-smelling refuse in a filthy steel skip.  Their arms were tied behind their backs in ungentle knots and both of them had been disarmed - or so their assailants thought.  As they regained consciousness they could make out the group of men who had attacked them – the same group that they had seen earlier in the storage silo – all surrounding them, and all wearing sadistic smiles on their faces.  The sky overhead was still too dark to see everything clearly, though the silhouette of the storage unit could be made out behind them.

One man stepped forward.  It was Brogan.  A half-smoked, cheap cigarette stuck out from his mouth, and a brutal cudgel hung from one burly hand.  His other hand roughly encircled the waist of a waif-like girl who couldn’t have been more than sixteen.  She was painfully thin and her intense blue eyes looked too large in her emaciated face.  His coarse grip on her had clearly caused bruises on her stomach, which, Shenaria saw, were matched by other forced discolorations of her skin all over her almost completely exposed body.

I don’ know who you two are’, he said through his yellowed and stained teeth, ‘but I’m Brogan, head of the Farmers’ Union in these parts.  An’ I object to my union’s activities bein’ spied upon.  Ain’ that right, Pixie?’ he added, giving the girl a rough slap on her behind.  ‘So, who are you?’ he added, staring down at them both.

Shenaria got to her feet awkwardly, then stood and looked up at him with all her dignity.  The rim of the refuse container came up to her chest.  Matthias did likewise and stood next to her, substantially taller.  Unseen by all the men he gave her hand a particular squeeze - one that she recognised with approval.  She gave an almost imperceptible nod, then turned all her attention back to Brogan.

‘I am Sanctifier Shenaria Calvert.  By the authority of the sacred name of the Saviour-King, Brogan, I arrest you on suspicion of heresy, ownership and distribution of tainted and unwholesome goods, and knowing collusion with Malevolence.’

Brogan laughed, and several men laughed with him, though Shenaria was gratified to see a good few turn pale.  The girl Brogan gripped so roughly opened her blue eyes fully, and looked at Shenaria with new animation in her face.

‘Oh yeah?’ said Brogan, ‘an’ what’s that mean, exactly?’

‘It means that you are dead’, replied Matthias.

All humour left Brogan’s face.  He let go of the girl and stepped towards the refuse container.  Then he took out his half-finished cigarette and pressed it into Matthias’s left cheek.  Matthias didn’t flinch at all.

‘You’ve got it the wrong way round, scumbag’, he said.  ‘Come on, Boys, let’s show them that the dreaded Sanctification isn’ so tough.’