Above Market Square, from the balcony of the Lord’s Residence, an inquisitor has promised the desperate citizens of Ossard salvation:The shimmering forms of winged angels materialised above Inquisitor Anton, scores of them, and each played a long golden horn. Robed in white, they smiled with beautiful faces marked by nothing; not age, pox, nor ill form.
The crowd grew louder, many letting tears run free, as most cried out of miracles.
The angels finished their clarion call and dove down to glide over the square. They swooped low to lay their hands on the sick, to bless the needy, and to chase away any lingering despair.
How could any doubt the inquisitor and his declared pious empire?
How could any doubt the future when it came heralded by angels?
But, amidst it all I remained alone and forsaken.
Having got what I came for, to know the future of the Inquisition’s Ossard, I made to go.
I began to cross the square as one of the angels glided down, unknowingly heading straight for me. At the last moment, he looked up, but then averted his eyes as he set his great wings to beat. He still passed above, but at a greater height, and I swear that as he did he shivered.
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