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A long time ago, in a town that’s no longer there, lived a priest.
He was a foundling, someone who grew within the church, who saw no need to be anywhere else. So, when he was grown, he joined the church, to give back what he was given.
He was a kind man, with a strong sense of justice. Perhaps too strong, considering things…
For you see; while helping those among his flock, he had angered the local lord. The lord was already envious, for the priest was handsome, with many ladies lamenting his devotion to God. But when the priest stood up to him, that was too far in his book.
The lord went into the woods, offering the local hag his son’s hand in marriage, in exchange for sending a demon to tempt the priest into sin and depravity. The hag did so, but remembering the kindness the priest did for her a year ago, also sent an angel there, curious which would win over the priest’s soul.
The priest, oblivious to the lord’s actions, was in the chapel, the light of the stained glass coating him as he prayed. That is where the demon found him. The demon was in a human form, his form lithe as he approached the priest, but never going past the steps of the alter.
“Why are you praying, dear priest?”
“I pray for my flock, so they are safe, happy, and fed.”
“Are you sure your Lord can hear you?”
“I am sure.”
“And what if they are not? What if they are out on the street, starving without a hand to help them?”
“Then I ask to be able to find them, so that I can care for them here.”
“And what if they would not come in? What if they do not wish to worship your god?”
“Then I will pray for them, then help them go where they feel more comfortable.”
“And what if they are bait for robbers?”
“Then I would give them what I have, though it’s not much, I’d admit.”
“And would you expect them to be kind to you?”
“I will try, but even if they are not, I will do so anyway.”
“People can be cruel.”
“True, but people can also be kind.”
“People can be both.”
“Which is why I must try to see the good in them, for people expecting cruelty will see such, even if there is none around. The same is true for kindness.”
“There are those much higher in the faith, who hold not even a tenth of your conviction.”
But before the priest could offer his rebuttal, a figure came to strike at the demon, the angel whom was summoned.
It was quick, for the demon was weak in such holy grounds, only able to speak to convince the priest out of the sacred chapel. There he would work his way with the priest… or at least he hoped so.
The angel drew his sword, ready to behead the corrupted one, when the priest came over, taking his sword before throwing it away.
“Why would you stop me? He is obviously a demon.”
“Is it not true that demons were once angels? And that all are God’s creation?”
The angel looked away, ashamed.
“And even if it were not so, I cannot allow this sacred place to be stained with bloodshed.”
The priest then went to the demon, helping him up. The demon does not know what to do with this, for he had tempted many before, even those of the cloth. They all fell, tempted by pride, or lust, or greed, even a few felt to wrath. But this priest, a foundling from a backwaters place like this, not only resisted, but offered him mercy.
The angel was also mystified, but more in why he sees this demon as something that could be saved.
“Come, let us have a meal together, so we could discuss things further.”
The demon and angel did so, both of them wary of their opposite number, but following the priest, holding a private war about what to do with this mortal.
They had stayed for weeks, months, years, trying to damn, save, or defend, depending on the person. And with that time came familiarity. Familiarity bred understanding. Understanding bred affection. And affection soon gave way to love.
None of the three knew what to do with this new feeling. None of them dare say it. The demon due to fear, for what is love but an unknown for one who has seen the worst of humanity. The angel due to pride, though he would deny it, falling for a demon and a mortal, as if that was possible. The priest, who was the worst of all in taking this news, kept his feelings silent due to duty, for he was a man of the cloth, and what was he compared to those of a higher existence.
Perhaps they would have eventually spoke it. Perhaps they would not, playing an eternal game of denial, keeping themselves from what they wanted.
But the local lord was not so patient, believing that he was tricked by the hag. And so, he killed, wife, son, daughter-in-law, even his infant grandchild. He then came to the church, followed by his guards and his own priest, for why should he lower himself for a priest of such lowly origins. The lord’s priest wanted to do a show trail with the town priest, give the illusion of fairness, but the lord was impatient, throwing a torch through the stained-glass window, right when the priest was praying.
He died burning, the demon begging him to take a deal, to save his own life, the angel crying, unable to save him. But the priest kept praying, a small part of him hoping that he could have some way of being with his loved ones. Soon the church was ablaze, the local lord cackling at the sight, the lord’s priest nervous but doing nothing else to stop him.
Soon the fire spread. The town was burnt to the ground, all but the lord and his followers surviving.
Some say it was divine intervention. Some say a demon screamed at them, scaring them out of their minds. But there are some who say it was the priest himself, robed in black cloth, holding a book in one hand and a scythe in another, a kind smile on his lips as he directs them out of the town.
The townspeople disperse, going to other towns, hoping to rebuild again. But one child looked back, hoping to find a lost toy, only to see the priest, demon, and angel smiling, an image of the town’s stained-glass window going over them one last time before the left this plane, never to be seen by the living again.