Chapitre 2: Chapter 1: The Escape of the Fallen

March 1450, Spain

A horse-drawn carriage was seen galloping through the dark woods of Castille. Inside, was a young man, dressed in black robes, holding a rosary, muttering his prayers. Although he was jostled by the rough handling of the coachman, he was also excited.

His uncle, who raised him after his parent's early demise, would be proud to hear about his new position. Being an advisor to one of the prominent families in Spain is not only a great honor. To him, it would be a fulfillment of his mission. Bringing God closer, to those in ruling, in hopes that they can influence their subjects to take up the religion. However, he did not know how to proceed with his first task though.

Although Catholicism was rising in popularity, especially among the nobles, the influence of the Moors and other religions was also rampant. He was nervous about how to approach the young monarch. Based on what the letter told him, he needs to get close to young Isabella, the daughter of the Royal House of Seville.

A deafening bang followed by the jerking of the carriage woke Tomas from his thoughts. He could hear the person outside trying to calm the horses down. He looked out of the window and could barely see anything. "Are you alright Damian? Whatever spooked the horses?" He called out to the coachman.

"I am very sorry Padre Tomas. A large bat suddenly swooped down. I think it bit Margiallo." Damian replied, referring to one of the stallions that pulled the carriage.

"No worries, just calm him down. The Monasterio expects my arrival in a day or two. No need to hurry, it is important that we take care of our safety." said Tomas, as he closed the curtains and settled back into his seat.

"This woods just creep me out, Padre. I want to leave this place as soon as possible."

Tomas kept his silence and waited for the carriage to move again. Unbeknownst to him, an inky black smoke was slowly meandering towards the horses. The smoke smelled horrible. Like a thousand rotten eggs combined. It then showed itself to Damian, seemingly materializing out of nowhere.

Damian, wanted to scream, to call out for the Padre inside the carriage, however, his limbs refused to cooperate. The crooked, long, ghostly hand reached out to Damian's chin. He slowly raised it up, as if examining every part of the pale coachman's face.

The faceless creature then glided around Damian, as if it was sizing it up. Damian followed it with his eyes, limbs still frozen into place. Everything happened in slow motion. It was as if Damian was hyper-focused on the creature that he couldn't see anything else but it.

Then, he saw the creature lean towards one of his ears. "We know you, Damian. We know of your desires. We know your sins as well as you know the curves of Madre Sofia." There seemed to be thousands of voices whispering to him at the same time. "You'll do for now. Your mortal body will house us, and take us away from this prison. You will house us until every one of the Fallen and their legion can find vessels of their own and create a place where your God will not exist, and only darkness and damnation will prevail. You'll do for now Damian, and we hope that you serve us well or else…" The creatures finished their message with a hair-raising laugh.

After the creature or creatures revealed their intentions, their fingers gripped Damian's cheeks tight and forced his jaws open. Damian's mouth opened wider and wider, as though he were a snake, his jaw was boneless. Wide-eyed, Damian saw the inky black smoke go in his mouth, choking him, and preventing him from breathing. It seemed like ages, but it only took a minute or two for Damian's encounter with the creatures to end.

Once every inky black smoke was sucked into Damian's body, he jerkily held the reins, and started the horse carriage.