October XII, in the Year of Our Lord DCCXCIII.

To Elisse,

My dearest sister, I write to you because today, I do not know who else to turn to. It seems that I have become like Saint Job, losing all that I hold dear in one day, one horrible, God-forsaken day. My faith has been tested far beyond its breaking, Elisse. I find myself wondering how God, the loving God I have served all my fourteen years as a monk on Lindisfarne, could let such pointless death happen. Was it something we did? Was it judgment perhaps, of a long-hidden sin? I do not know.

It happened on a Wednesday. I do not know why I remember that detail, but I do, as I remember everything else, as clear as day. We had just been brought news that a duke from the mainland was bringing his family to pray and hold private mass, and the monastery was filled with activity. Father Aedan was going to and from the cellars, bringing up old barrels of wine and fretting because all of us had taken a vow of abstinence years ago, and none could test the wine for the duke. Brother Canince had the kitchens in a frenzy, with brothers passing here and there with pots, and pans, and vegetables from the garden.

When one of the brothers came up from the shore, claiming that he glimpsed sails on the horizon, we were all horrified, but not for the reasons you may think. We panicked because we all thought it was the duke, and he was not due for another six hours. It was not until almost a quarter of the hour passed that we realized we were gravely mistaken. Brother Samir came running up from the beach and breathlessly brought the cry of "Raiders!" to our ears.

At first, Father Aedan did not believe him. We had heard stories about the warriors who traveled by sea and raided villages on the coast, but the tales were whispered almost like ghost stories at night. That they were here, at Lindisfarne, seemed almost unthinkable. But Father Aedan went up to the bell-tower himself and looked out at the coast, and when he came down, he bore witness to "ships with the heads of dragons and demons sailing straight for us."

The church bell was rung in a panicked warning, and we all rushed to get into the sanctuary of the church, behind the solid oak doors that we prayed would protect us. We tried to help the older brothers in first, as the ringing of the warriors on the beach beating their axes on their shields reached our ears and spurred us on. Elisse, that day I prayed like I never prayed before.

Brother Canince took a few of us into the kitchens to bring supplies into the sanctuary in fear that the raiders would try to starve us out. Most of us knew that the warriors would be more likely to smoke us out than starve us, but in the moment, we needed something to get our minds off of the danger we faced.

But right before I left the church, old Brother Mathias grabbed my arm with his feeble hands. For some reason, the only thing the poor old man could think about were the horses we used for plowing the wheat fields. He was terrified for those poor creatures, claiming that the raiders would slaughter them all and strip them for meat, and that we could not let them do such a thing to the creatures of God's creation. He begged me, pleaded with me, to go out and set them loose. I finally agreed, if only to give the old brother some kind of final peace.

The warriors had reached the outer gates of the compound by the time I ran to the stables. They were trying to cut the gates down, and I heard the brothers bolt the wooden doors of the sanctuary after I went out. I knew that I would not be let back in, and I knew I was to die that day. I was not afraid of death, Elisse. I knew where I was headed was a brighter land than Lindisfarne. So as I ran to the small barn where we kept the horses, I was not afraid.

I let the horses loose, and drove them out of their stalls with the whip that was hanging on the wall. I do not know why, but I briefly thought of our Christ, who drove the money changers out of the temple with a whip such as this. I wondered what He would do if He were here to face the raiders.

Then my wondering was put an end when I heard the wooden gate crack open, and heard the rush of footsteps as the warriors charged to the sanctuary. I thought I was not afraid to die, Elisse. But in that moment, the devil's own fear took hold of me in a death grip and I found myself hiding behind a stack of hay and peering out at the sanctuary through a crack in the wall.

They cut open the sanctuary doors in less than ten minutes, despite all our hopes and prayers that the doors would stop them. I sat in the dark, pressed against the wall and watching in my cowardice as they entered the church. I heard my brothers scream out. I heard the pleas for mercy, the cries of pain, and the sounds of death. But I could do nothing. I could not move. I could not pray.

A brother I knew, a monk named Liam, tried to run from the church and make it to the gate, but one of the raiders cut him off before he had even made it halfway. I watched, helplessly, as the raider swung his sword and sliced open his stomach, spilling its contents out as Liam screamed a final cry of pain. Another monk, one named Athelstan, tried to run the opposite direction and another warrior threw his axe at him. The brother fell not even a foot away from the stables, and the warrior crossed over to finish him off with a quick thrust of the sword into his chest.

I must have made a noise, some gasp or an almost silent cry, because the warrior's head snapped back to peer inside the stable. Fear seemed to tighten its grip on me as the raider neared, a sword in his hand and a cruel smile on his lips. I had taken a vow of peace, Elisse. I had sworn to show Christ-like love to every creature alive, but in that moment, I realized I did not want to die. Faced with death, I realized how much it truly terrified me, even though I knew it should not. And he neared the stack of hay I was hiding behind, my body moved as if it was not my own.

I waited until he had just barely come into view around the hay, and then I lashed out with the whip that was still in my hands. He dropped his sword in pain and surprise, and we both dived for the weapon. Perhaps God truly was there with us that day, even if for only a moment, because I somehow was able to grab his weapon before he could, and sliced the blade against the only part of his body that was not covered by armor, which was the neck. I felt the blood spray out onto my face, and I shut my eyes so I could not see the raider choke to death on his own blood. But I could not shut my ears, and as I laid there in the dirt next to him, I had to listen to his gurgled cries and whimpers as his life drained from him.

To this day, Elisse, I can still hear his chokes. Every time I close my eyes and try to sleep at nights, I hear them. I hear them and I'm reminded that I sent that man to hell that day. I should have let him kill me, because at least I knew I would see our Lord in Heaven the moment my breath left my body. But instead, I gave into the fear, the sin of my flesh, and I sent his soul to an eternal torment. I can never forget that. I can never forgive what I have done. And I know the Lord never will. You know what happens to those of us who break our vows, Elisse. You know who He sends for us.

After he had gone silent, I checked through the crack in the wall and the rest of the raiders were nowhere to be seen from my hiding spot. I assumed the rest of the raiders had moved to the storehouse beside the main church building, an assumption I later found out was correct, and I used the time to drag the dead raider out to the stable's entrance. It took almost two minutes to move him out and place him beside my dead brother, and the entire time I was sure another one of them would spot me and give a cry of warning to his comrades, but none came. I left the body by the other and slunk back to my hiding spot, hoping beyond hope that the other warriors would suspect that the two had killed each other in a scuffle.

Yet I saw something else through the crack in the wall, something my eyes and my faith did not believe. I heard a commotion from the church, and when I turned my tearful eyes out to look, I saw a group of the warriors dragging out Father Aedan. I swear to God on high, I wanted to help him Elisse. I saw his face, covered in blood and dirt. I saw his wounds, the bloody gashes in his cloak that dripped red into the dirt. The warriors dragged him across the stone path and dropped him to the grass, and from where I hid, I could still hear his cry of pain. I almost ran out to try and help him. I swear I almost did.

But then, before I could do anything, another warrior came out of the church. I realized that he must have been the leader of these raiders, and the warriors at Father Aedan's side took a step back in his presence. He was taller than all of them, and was clad in armor crafted from black chain-mail. His face was turned from me and was most likely hidden by the helmet he wore, but there was a marking on his back that I saw when he bent down to look at Father Aedan.

The marking was a five-pointed star that was flipped upside down and set inside a circle, and it was drawn in red across his back. It took me a few moments to realize that the red marking was dripping, with drops sliding down and across the dark chain-mail. It was then that I understood that the marking was painted with the blood of priests, the blood of my brothers. I felt like I was going to vomit once more, and I turned away only for a moment.

Then I heard him speak, a voice that was deep and full and resounded through our entire meager compound. And he spoke in Latin, in our Christian language, yet his words defiled it.

He said, "I see that your God has failed you, Aedan. Your Holy Master has no power over me. He has no hold over all of your souls."

I looked again towards them, and I saw Father Aedan weakly look up to whisper something that I could not hear. I think it was a verse from our Holy Scripture.

The leader laughed. It was a haunting sound that echoed off the stone walls of the church and drilled itself into my head, a sound even more terrifying than the chokes of the man I killed. Then he added, in a voice that I can still hear today, "You've called on the name of your God. Now hear mine."

The words of his name he spoke after that I dare not write on paper. They were unholy words, Elisse, words that had power and darkness bound to the very letters. Father Aedan cried out in protest, and what happened next I pray someday I forget, although I fear it has been etched into my mind for all of eternity.

I heard a scream, Elisse. It was not a human scream, but something dark and twisted that sounded as if it was trying to mimic a human voice. I was repulsed, horrified, but I could not look away. I saw the leader of the raiders, the man who was at his full height, straighten up. I heard bones cracking as he twisted, as his limbs broke and reformed into new shapes. I heard Father Aedan scream as well, his scream marred in terror and holy fear. The man before him was no longer a man, but was something that could have only been described as one of the demons from St John's Revelation. I could not watch anymore, I ripped my eyes from the beast and stumbled away from the wall with my eyes squeezed shut. But I could still hear the beast's screams and snarls of bloodlust. And I heard Father Aedan's last cries of anguish until they suddenly cut off, and I was left with the silence of my fear.

After what felt like a lifetime of waiting behind the hay, two of the warriors found the man I killed and took his body, along with sacks piled high with our gold candlesticks and other items of value, back to their ship. I peered out one final time through the crack to watch them leave, but I saw no signs of their leader or the beast that he turned into. After ten more minutes, the rest of the raiding party had left as well, leaving me on an island of corpses.

When I finally stumbled out of the barn, stepping over the bodies of my brothers to reach Father Aedan, I felt like there was not a single glint of anything clean or holy within me. I felt disgusted. I felt afraid. I felt abandoned, both by my brothers and by my God. And I felt a sorrow I had never felt before when I found the remains of Father Aedan, ripped apart into bloody pieces strewn across the cobblestone.

I buried each and every one of them, Elisse. Brother Mathias, Brother Canince, Brother Samir, Brother Liam, Father Aedan, all of them. I could not leave them there lying in the dirt, waiting for the crows to feast on them. I could not let that happen to these... these children of God. So I went into the sanctuary, the storehouse, the sleeping halls, the fields, and scoured through the mess of rubble until I brought each and every one of my friends and brothers in Christ out to bury. Or at least, what was left of them.

When the duke and his family found me lying in the field five hours later in exhaustion, they said my eyes were red from crying and I was murmuring incomprehensible words about beasts and death. I do not remember anything after I buried Liam, the last of the hundred and two monks on the island. I do not remember being rescued, or my days recovering on the mainland. But I do remember the death. The screams. The beast that had been man. The sound of a man's life being choked by his own shed blood, the blood I shed. I can never forget any of it, Elisse. And to this day, months later, I wonder where my God was when the raiders came. Where He was when Liam was murdered. When Father Aedan was ripped to shreds. Where was He, Elisse? And why did he not take me too, instead of leaving me here to be haunted by the memories of the dead? And when how long until He sends his judgement for me?