Return of the Hero 12 - Murder is On the Table

Lucas was going to bite the bullet. It had been two days since his confession with his siblings, and while things had changed a little bit, they hadn't changed nearly as much as he had feared. It was really in the little things, like how they listened to him when he talked about magic, or actually paid attention when he spoke about life. However, he also figured they were still coming to terms with things. It wasn't like people could accept something so huge within a day or two, especially something as big as this. If his siblings were anything like him, and they were, they needed some time to come to terms with reality. Or, more accurately, figure out how they felt about it. Time to process! That was the phrase he was looking for.

That said, he'd needed to get out of the house. Both of them were becoming less, well, hovering, but at the same time not. Now they paid too much attention to him in a different way, less constant worry, more constant presence. And he was becoming increasingly convinced that they were hiding something between the little looks they shared whenever he had a story or lesson to tell and the hushed conversations when they thought he wasn't listening.

Maybe things have changed more than I thought. He realized, then pushed the thought out of his head. He'd gotten out of the house to avoid the tension in there, not carry it with him. Now, he was facing an entirely new kind of tension.

He was going to church.

He'd finally broken down. Azazel's cryptic statement about checking out Solarianism had finally bugged him enough that he'd actively sought out one of their churches. It was a little thing, set in the base of an apartment building in what might have once been a restaurant. A little stylized sun hung over the door way, a decal silhouette of a man holding up the sun like it might have been a basketball plastered onto the tinted glass door.

He'd already watched a few people enter and exit the place. Most were dressed casually, and ranged from old folks to the very young. Some seemed average. Some were hippies. He didn't have a better word for them. Not that there was anything wrong with that, it just made sense that a new religion would attract that kind of crowd.

Lucas sucked in a deep breath and looked down at himself, feeling a touch overdressed. He wore nice black slacks that were a hundred percent Merino wool Elizabeth had gotten for him - the local mall had a terrible selection of clothing, especially when comparing to how it was pre-Gates - and a nice, button up, blue shirt. He'd even gotten his old watch out of storage, a self-winding thing he'd worked his tail off to save up for way back in the day, and had since been sitting in one of the boxes of his junk the twins had stored for him.

"Well, here goes," he muttered, already feeling rather worried about the entire thing. He sucked in a deep breath, mentally steeled himself as if he was going into battle, and walked into the church.

The sermon had yet to start. It was only seven fifty, when the service started at eight, which gave Lucas plenty of time to...admire? the interior. It clearly had been a restaurant at one point, and was surprisingly well lit with almost purely natural light.

Two entire walls were made of windows, the church dominating the corner space of the apartment complex ground level, sunlight illuminating the metal pews lined in neat rows. Where the bar might have once stood was now a podium raised slightly above the pews, a copper metal sun hanging behind it. Directly to the right of that was the swinging metal doors that would have led to the kitchen and was now whatever passed for the back of a church. Maybe that was where youth group was held. Did they even have youth group?

Decor-wise, as expected of a religion named 'Solarianism,' everything had to do with the sun. There were sun motifs everywhere. Posters along the back wall depicted three different people moving the sun across the sky; one, a golden-haired man with a sword and armor lifting his weapon heavenward as the sun rose. The third, another figure, standing beneath the sun with his hands raised. The third, guiding the sunset down while holding a bow.

Lucas' eyes narrowed as he found a seat in the back of the line of pews, his back to the windows, sunlight warming his neck, hands folded in his lap. He looked up at the ceiling, and blinked. There were little figures and the flickering, candle Christmas lights dangling from the rafters.

"You new here? Haven't seen you around before," a voice asked, startling him. He turned to the woman who had just lid into the seat beside him, smiling and dressed in a baggy purple sweatshirt with the name of some band on it, and ripped jeans. Her hair was dyed blue, though it was starting to fade, and she had a few piercings in her face. Couldn't have been older than twenty-one.

"Yeah. Just came to check it out," he admitted with a little shrug. "I like learning about all kinds of different religions and mythos, and there's only so much you can learn about something without attending or seeing it, y'know?" Which was completely true, even though that wasn't explicitly why he was here.

"Oh, so you're checking out all the different religions, seeing what clicks? I did that too. Been to all different kinds of Christian churches, Buddhist, Islamic, I even tried turning Wiccan for a few months. Nothing really clicked until I came here. I hope you find what you're looking for." She said with a beaming smile. "I'm Angela. You are?"

"Lucas," he said, appreciating this initial interaction despite the continual sinking feeling in his gut.

"You're dressed nice," she commented.

"Oh, thanks. Yeah. I do this every time I come to a place of worship. Shows respect for what it stands for," he admitted honestly, picking at his shirt a little. There were maybe two, three other people among the forty or so sitting in the pews dressed like him. The rest were far more casual.

"Never thought of it like that." She admitted. Lucas hummed, not sure how to respond to that, and fell quiet as they waited for the sermon to begin.

"You chose a good sermon to visit for," Angela whispered, just before the thing began. "Today's about the Lord of Dawn. Good beginner sermon."

"What?" Lucas asked, the bottom of his stomach dropping out, but she just smiled and faced the front as the pastor, a man with a bald head, a bushy black beard, and simple white robes. He was immediately recognizable as a Super, Lucas wasn't quite sure how powerful, but he held himself in a way that made it clear he had power. The bit of holy magic radiating from him helped, too. Literally radiating from him, motes of golden light streaking off of him like sunrays in a deliberate display.

Lord of Dawn.

No, it couldn’t' be.

Lucas bit his lip and prayed, hoping against hope that this wasn't what he thought it was.

Alas, he was wrong. So very, very wrong.

The longer the pastor talked, the more familiar it became. The details were wrong. The people were, too. But the structure was there. And Lucas found himself mired in a horrifying mix of nostalgia and abject terror. The pastor was unfortunately well-spoken, talking about lessons the sunrise can give people, he spoke of the Lord of Dawn, how every morning he would rise and cross the land, healing the sick and wounded and fighting demons, driving them back to the darkness with holy light.

He spoke of redemption, turning the entire sermon into a story. Lucas found himself petrified as the man described, in particular, the aftermath of a particularly gruesome battle in the Seventh Layer of Hell - though he didn't call it that, the name was something Darkworld, the events and description immediately made Lucas think of that battle. He turned the story into a story of redemption, how the Lord of Dawn descended into the underworld and stopped the constant infighting himself, driving off the devils who were invading and redeemed one of the beings within who sounded suspiciously like Azazel.

Azazel. Who was still very much not “redeemed.”

"I am not nearly that poetic," he whispered as the pastor described, in shockingly good rhetoric and rhyme, the words the titular "lord of dawn" had used to redeem the demons of the underworld. Something about finding the light again? Lucas could barely hear him through the horror.

"I know, right?" Angela breathed, smiling. "It's a little metaphorical, but no less beautiful." Lucas did his best not to look at her with abject terror in his eyes, and, to his credit, he did not scoot away from her.

He was in hell. This was his personal hell. And worse? He couldn’t bring himself to walk out no matter how much he wanted to. He had questions for the priest, if he knew anything. So. Many. Questions.

Finally, after an hour and a half of the worst torture he had ever had the displeasure of experiencing, the sermon was brought to a close.

"And remember, no matter how dark the night may seem, Dawn Will Always Come. Go now, and dwell in the glory of the sun!" he said. Immediately people applauded and began to move, some getting up and forming little groups, others heading toward the door, and Lucas was frozen in place in momentary indecision.

Did he rush straight to the pastor, or wait in this dungeon of hell for others to clear out?

"So? What did you think?" Angela asked, turning to him and beaming. Lucas flinched, staring at her wide-eyed, momentarily afraid she might recognize him as the one from the stories, no matter how ridiculous the notion may have been. "You ok?"

"I think...I want to know how this religion came about. That's a very complex mythos to have just appeared like that." He admitted stiffly, biting his tongue to keep from screaming.

"Oh! You don't know? Well, unlike Arcanism, which is the worship of actual magic, Solarianism actually came from the Gates." Angela said as if it was a perfectly normal thing. Lucas stiffened even further, slowly turning to meet her eyes.

"What."

"Yeah! Supposedly the head priest met the Lord of Dawn himself. What is known is that he found the scriptures within an S-Rank gate. You could probably ask Pastor Brian if you really wanted to know more. He's actually met the Head Priest. Pretty cool, right? It’s a religion from another dimension!" Angela said cheerily.

"Thank you." Lucas said, abruptly standing. They'd found scriptures. In the gates. Either mortals were writing things about him, or he was on the receiving end of one of the cruelest pranks Heaven has ever devised. He was going to murder Michael. Or Heracles. Or Houyi. Definitely Azazel. He was already on the list, but this jumped him straight to the top.

With purposeful steps he pushed through the crowd, muttering “excuse me's” and “sorry's” as he made his way to the pastor, who was locked in conversation with one of the members. He stood off to the side, patiently waiting for the man to finish speaking.

"...now, if you'll excuse me, it seems a new member has some questions." Pastor Brian said, turning away from the middle-aged man with a faded Legend of Zelda t-shirt to face Lucas. "I don't believe I've seen your face before. Is this your first time here? How may I help you?" he asked with a genuine smile, despite the 'service industry' nature of his statement.

Lucas was momentarily caught off-guard, having not quite planned his approach properly. He blamed his fear. And the simmering rage threatening to burst to the surface.

"Hi, yes, uh, first time. Came in just as a curiosity. Friend recommended it." And I'm going to kill him for it. Slowly. Painfully. The Pastor's smile widened at Lucas' rambling.

"And what did you think?" He asked, looking Lucas up and down. Lucas had to forcibly hold himself back from interrogating the man's aura with his own, inspecting it for any sign of connecting to Heaven, and bobbed his head repeatedly. That may accidentally reveal his hand, and was rude to boot.

"Uh, yes, it was...nice." Terrifying. How do I have worshippers?! I'm not even that powerful yet! "I had a few questions about where all this came from? Who found the scriptures? Why do you worship this Lord of Dawn guy?" What kind of a name even is that. It's so...so...bad! I know I said my magic is “the dawn,” but that’s ridiculous!

"Oh, well, let me correct you a little. We don't worship the Lord of Dawn specifically. He is but an aspect of the Lightbringer, the warrior who brings light to places too long touched by shadow." Brian corrected softly. Lucas made a noise of distress in the back of his throat, disguising it by nodding like he was interested. "And, in fact, we encourage our followers to engage with other religions as well. Unlike some, we do not deny the existence of other pantheons - the Lord of Dawn has fought demons alongside angels of the Christian heaven, for example, just as the Duskfather has treated with the Hindu gods."

"Right, right. And where did this religion come from?" Lucas asked, then hastily added. "Sorry, I'm a history buff. Exploring mythos and everything is kind of my thing, I'm not trying to question your beliefs, I'm just trying to learn because I heard the scriptures were found in a gate and I justreallywannaknow." He smiled a weak, shaky smile, and Brian chuckled.

"Oh good, and here I was thinking you were questioning our beliefs," he joked, and Lucas gave a fake little laugh. Then he studied Lucas for a moment, expression growing serious. "In truth, we are not entirely sure where it came from. The High Priest did discover the holy book in one of the gates, as well as a statue built in the Lord of Dawn's honor. We are still deciphering most of it - I help, when I can. But allow me to ask you a question instead. You have the look of a man who felt something. Did you feel it, during my sermon?" he asked.

"Eh?" Lucas cocked his head to the side.

"No need to play dumb. I can see it written on your face, and feel the holy magic radiating from you. Unlike some Supers, we with the holy magic affinity can sometimes feel things that others cannot. Spirits. Truth. That is why our religion is growing so fast. There is truth in other religions, powerful truth. But in Solarianism? There's a purty there that hasn't been diluted by time and ancient religious practices and the fallibility of man. The truth within is newer. More attuned to a modern audience. So I ask again, what did you feel?" he asked, eyes gleaming with interest.

Lucas stood there for a hot minute, gaping like a fish.

This...this was worse than he could have ever imagined.

***

Elizabeth looked up from where she'd been watching TV the moment Lucas entered, her eyes tracking him as he trudged dejectedly across the living room floor.

"You were gone a while. You ok?" she asked as he flopped face-first onto the couch. He groaned and shook his head. "What? Run into another pocket of bad energy? You big baby," she teased. Lucas groaned again, not even having the energy to protest against her statement. He somewhat regretted telling her and George about being able to feel energy flows in the land.

But he regretted being alive more right now.

And he was going to regret telling her what he found out. He could already hear the teasing.

"What's up? I thought you'd be happy to drive your Bel Air again." Elizabeth said. Lucas kept his face buried in the sofa.

"I'm being worshipped." he moaned into the couch cushion.

"What?"

Lucas didn't answer her verbally, instead holding up a pamphlet Pastor Brian had shoved into his hands when he'd fled the establishment.  

"Use your words. I have no idea what that is. Did you go to church?" she asked. "For a really old man you sure act like a child sometimes."

Lucas lifted his head and met her eyes with a dead stare, holding the pamphlet out to her. "I'm being worshipped," he deadpanned, trying to put as much of his pain into his words as possible, and buried his face back into the couch.

The silence that followed was deafening, punctuated only by Elizabeth snatching the pamphlet out of his hand.

"You're joking?" she asked hesitantly. Lucas shook his head, face still buried, feet dangling over the arm of the couch. "Solarianism? The Lord of Dawn? Wait – dawn?"

"Don't say it out loud!" Lucas cried slapping his hands over his ears and rolling over to sit upright. "It's such a dumb name."

"Not the worst I heard," Elizabeth commented, raising an eyebrow. Lucas whined, holding his head in his hands. Maybe that was true, but the actual problem was that it was his. Something other people had given him. They called him this. The only saving grace was that they didn’t know it was him who was the Lord of Dawn. “Are you certain it’s about you?”

“They described, in detail, one of my battles. The names were wrong and the events dramatized, and they made me sound far more poetic than I was, but it was unmistakably me.” Lucas said, rubbing his eyes.

"You sure you weren't hearing things that weren't there, because you were looking for it?" Elizabeth pressed.

"Unfortunately, I am positive. As the pastor himself said; I could feel the truth in it." Lucas hated that it was true. With such a burning passion it was truly starting to overcome the oddness and fear that came with the idea a religion had formed around him. Well, not just him, but that was beside the point. He was part of a religion now. “Someone needs to be yelled at for this. Murder is still on the table.” And this time, for sure, his call would not be redirected.

***

Lucas: The Lord of Dawn. Spooky. Yes, he did flee from the church. No, it wasn't a tactical retreat. He owns his terror.

Elizabeth: One of Lucas' siblings. Really, kind of amused, but also weirded out by this revelation.