SHILOH HOLLOWAY
Your name is Freya Hazelwood. Yesterday, you were in treatment for hours, but you got through it. Your eyes have started to hurt from the blinding hospital lights, beaming directly down onto you as they prod and poke at you for hours. You got sick to your stomach last night, but that's okay, because it exhausted you enough to sleep through the night without getting up until the sun started pouring in through the window. It's a good thing too, because you had a particularly strange dream last night.You like to catch the sunrise when you can, but you don't force yourself. North Tide Medical Center is aptly near the water, so the view from your room, of the sun cresting the ocean, usually is enough to stun you. When you wake up this morning, you catch the most gorgeous rays of light, which paints your room a golden orange, like a breath of life. You feel a lightness to your body you haven't felt in months; a void where your sickness usually rests (though you can still feel it resting there, but it feels as though it has decided to hibernate for a while). Your mind feels clearer, and your aches are diminished under the noise of energy that takes you upon waking up and taking the sun in.Today, you feel strangely lucid.There's a letter right by your bed, resting in one of those metal dishes the nurses bring you. An old parchment paper, but neatly folded.
“My dearest, Agent,The world might be new to you, yes? I understand that you have chosen your vessel, but has your vessel chosen you? Struggling to find yourself in a body already well acquainted and bruised by circumstance? I know the bigger picture. This vessel you've inhabited knows more than you, and perhaps you will come to conflict over it. But let me give you a leverage. Sometimes, a little bit of exposition comes in handy. After all, you're the one in control now, right? That funny word we love and hate, control! You can't be floundering around like you’ve never been here before, it simply will not do.Let’s talk formally and without smoke and mirrors for a moment: your job is to encounter the people of Witch City and learn all you can from them. Your main subject of interest is an emerging cult, known for working in the dark, using the forest as ritual sites, and traveling by catacombs. You must know what the people of Witch City know, and try your best to differentiate their biases from their truths. Of course, with personage and life comes the tricky matter of feelings and fears, but I trust that your own intuition shall serve you to sort the facts from fiction.The disappearances are worth noting. Over the course of the summer, now heading into autumn, many people have been reported missing in the city, the number steadily climbing, approaching thirty over five months. We are not a town known for people moving out or in for that matter, so these subtractions are noticeable and upsetting. I can't confirm whether all of these are related to this cult activity, but there must be a tie, right? They coincide with each other during these times, after all. It may be worth mentioning or asking about in your travels. You may meet someone closer to it than you want to.Now, let's talk about why this cult is such a go-getter. Witch City is governed by its tradition, which you should familiarize yourself with. Over half of Witch City is Pagan. The dominating religion will smack you in the face more than the cult probably will. The Coven Revolving, the judges and the juries and the executioners of this town. The devoted Renovacist ways of the Coven will come up at nearly every turn, so it’s best you know what you’re getting into. The main point of Renovacism comes down to death: we revolve. Reincarnation is the ultimate goal, to come back as another creation, and take your second chance at life. Otherwise, your spirit will be bound to the earth. So to treat the earth and its inhabitants as sacred, potentially even ancient iterations of what once was, and care for all things… All of this, just to amount to eternal life. Revolve and revolve and revolve. Not my thing, but we know this about me already.And what is religion without Gods? Dissiri, Karsia, Halycon, and Amasius. King, Queen, Knight, and Page. You’ll hear the names. They are… not big fans of me. Maybe it’s best I leave that information to you to find out. Gods. There's a whole holy book about it, Witch City has a fascinating collection at its library. But yes. The Holy Court. Four of them. Really riveting stuff.Now, do all Gods need angels? No, but people love a good right hand man. Witch City’s regulation has been conflated with its congregation in the form of The Tarot Court. These bozos, if I can say that, are the closest thing this place gets to a leader: four quasi-prophets each serving a Deity as some sort of mouthpiece. They're so mysterious that even I do not know much about them, but I'm more than sure you’ll find yourself tuned into the conspiracy grapevine that leads back to them somehow. The Tarot Court is lucky that the city’s crime rates are exceptionally low…Now, have I said too much? I'm sure you’ll find your way, but I’d hate to see someone as precious as you get lost in it all. Your job is to fill in the gaps, the missing links of knowledge that I cannot gather myself, being bound here alone. I may as well share what I do know to give you an upper hand. But not too much information, of course! You are still a seeker worthy of the hunt. I know this now.As you meet the people of Witch City, I will also help guide you to other sources of information that may help you. The Witch City news, the radio station, even newer inventions such as the internet will be beneficial. 2020 is such a revolutionary year, it appears!You will do good. I believe in that, truly.And, once again, I need you to find out everything you can about the one they call The Visionary.All the best, and may you be blessed,The Oracle”
When your nurses come in, you tell them how great you feel, and how lonely you’ve been, cooped up in the hospital for weeks. How you’re desperate to go outside and get some fresh air and see the city for what it really is: the people that make it. Their confusion and potential dread is not lost on you, but they reluctantly agree after seeing your energy. If you have any sudden weakness, you are to immediately return back, but the evidence they see in you is convincing enough. Clearance to come and go from the hospital for a week, health permitting. You hope that’s enough.You throw on your favorite battle jacket, which was starting to look a little sad resting on the chair next to your bed. You put the letter from the Oracle into one of the pockets and head out into your city.
Witch City, like you, is strangely alive at this hour. Just barely touched by the day, and though the streets may find themselves quiet, there's something very magical that hangs in the air. How the wind chimes dance against the breeze, how the leaves rustle against the pavement, how squirrels and chipmunks chitter and bounce after each other. The distant roar of the ocean on one side, and the haunting call of the forest on the other. The trees are all dipped in their autumn best, and the echo of ravens calling one another resonates on the bricks of old roads. All of the cathedrals are in various stages of setting up their decorations, with Witch City’s own order of The Coven Revolving putting their best foot forward to prepare for the oncoming October holidays.The cathedrals look a little prettier today. You've always wavered in between being agnostic and being in it for the aesthetic as far as The Coven goes, but something feels strangely pagan about you today. Your vision, sent to you by the Oracle, combined with your sudden bout of energy… It feels bigger than you. Your stomach doesn't ache, your eyes don't feel heavy, and your lungs feel unbound. You feel clean. The sickness sleeps in you. But you will make it stay asleep if you have to.Maybe a little divine magic on you from The Oracle was the answer. After all, not only do you feel clean, but you feel in tune with your instincts. You leave the hospital and you round the edge of Witch City by the water, and you know where you need to go without having been told it. You let yourself be a victim of this destiny, even if the moment is fleeting.
You follow the northern coastline of the city until you find yourself near the Witch City Primeval forest, the farthest point of the city cutting it off from the rest of the world. The woods, cradling some lonely cemeteries and roads, home to several walking trails and haunted happenings. This corner is particularly known for its spirits. But that doesn't bother you. Maybe they're just happy to see you out and about.This side of the city grows quieter as you move towards it. Maybe it's that very stillness that draws you to it. Instead of running headfirst into the noise, you can’t help but feel there's something hidden in wait. Your instinct takes you to the top of a little road, hidden away, right across from the Bethesda Cemetery. It is marked with a crooked sign, hugged by tendrils, color chipped away underneath, calling the road by its name: Dogma Grove Road. It’s not much, but it’s a start.
The street isn't very well kept, dotted with colorful apartment complexes of various shapes and sizes with lawns in various states of overgrowth. Something tells you the biodiversity is part of the bigger picture. All sorts of flowers and plants across different lawns, some outdoor art projects in different stages and states of disarray, and all sorts of graffiti lining the building walls. You can hear some music coming from inside one of them, down towards the street’s opposite end, and you can tell from the tuning alone that it is live, improvised, and from the soul. An acoustic guitar from one room, and a piano from the other.You remember doing some apartment searches here, but decided against it once you got your diagnosis.
In the midst of the art and music, you notice one singular person. She is sitting on a step at the end of a walkway of one of the smaller complexes, wearing a hoodie two times her size, with hair wild all over her forehead, taking long drags from a cigarette. She feels so organic with the scenery. She's the epitome of the artistry that this street fosters. At peace with herself, but likely brewing something under the surface. She’s in her own world. And she’s the type of handsome you considered yourself to be.She doesn't notice you at first, but you've gotten good at taking up the space you deserve. You bounce towards her, with a life in your step you haven't felt in a long time. And she turns her head right at you, chuckling at the contrast of your clothing and your energy.
????: All that energy for this early in the morning, huh?
????: I suppose it is when you want it to be.
She crushes her cigarette against the cement next to her and stands up.
????: You lookin’ for anything in particular?
????: For sure. Well, you look like you belong here anyways. Name’s Shiloh, by the way. Holloway.
SHILOH: Freya. What an awesome name. So the winds just brought you here, Freya?
SHILOH: What's got you wondering today?
SHILOH: If you want the truth, I don't believe in anything that's divine. I don't think anything is divine. I'm one of very few atheists you’ll find around here. Or at least, one of very few that'll just come out and put a label on it.
SHILOH: I suppose so. I know sometimes things happen and they seem right, but I dunno. Maybe coincidence is the closest thing we get to fate. Did something divine bring you here?
You fluster Shiloh a bit. She laughs a bit to herself, trying to remain cool despite being charmed by you.
SHILOH: Well, if you're proof of something divine, maybe atheism isn't for me after all.
You can feel Freya is getting a bit off task. You shake her head a bit, which may come off as sudden to Shiloh.
SHILOH: Sorry. I’m sure you have better reason to be here than just seeing me, yeah?
SHILOH: Let's just call it fated coincidence then, that you were just around here when I was the only one out, yeah? So… what's REALLY bugging you, other than me?
SHILOH: Oh, wait.
She takes a step back, as if to get a better look at you. And when she catches what she’s doing, she clears her throat and looks down.
SHILOH: I'm sorry, Freya. I… couldn't even tell. You… seem so full of life. So I think you're doing a great job on that front.
SHILOH: I'm glad to hear it. So, what, you think a higher power brought you to me? Which one, Halycon?
You know she is an atheist, but something about this particular question seems genuine. Maybe she pities you being on a time clock, or maybe she thinks you're cute. You can't quite tell.
You notice Shiloh tense up a bit. Her smile drops and her voice hushes.
SHILOH: The Legion already has eyes on me. I’ll have to ask you to leave if that’s what this is about.
Shiloh grows panicked, taking a sharp inhale.
SHILOH: OH! Oh. You're not… You're not with them… Fuck. Um. I'm sorry, I…
She starts glancing over her shoulders rapidly. As if she didn't know already we were the only two people on the street, but still she searches.
SHILOH: I thought you meant…. something else.
SHILOH: You have no clue about The Legion?
Shiloh pauses. Considers her options.
She makes extra sure no one else is on the street. Then, she shakes her head, mutters something like, “Fuck it” under her breath, and takes you by the hand and pulls you down her walk way. She takes you inside the stairwell of her apartment. Hearing the echoes, she continues pulling you up the stairs up to a door on the right, presumably her apartment. She fumbles with a set of keys against one of them before flinging the door open and urging you inside, closing it tight behind you. On the other side of the door are many more locks, all of which she begins to frantically fumble with, locking every single one.Her apartment is small, so very indicative of a musician living here. An unkempt living room wild with scraps of scribbled lyrics and sheet music, some flannels and hoodies draping the couch, and the distant scent of tobacco. A tattered loveseat seems to have become the home of a sleek blue guitar, very clearly well loved but also well kept. Her kitchen is shockingly clean, perhaps too much so, aside from one empty bowl on the counter that looks like it was used for some ramen noodles. Many band posters line the walls, along with some shadow boxes full of concert memorabilia like bracelets and confetti. It's so… her.She goes over to the lone window overlooking the street and shutters the blinds, only after double checking no one strange has appeared on the street.She gives you a minute to process before she clears her throat, holding a single finger up to her mouth, and bringing her voice down to a raspy, forlorn whisper.
SHILOH: Alright. So. The cult. They're called the Legion of Eyes. They use the catacombs to do their bidding and escape broader groups of people knowing about it. They’re particular about where they put their feelers out. At least, right now, they are. They’re elusive but hidden in plain sight, and it's freaky as hell how they're just everywhere when you're not paying attention. They call themselves Scryers and just have their noses in everyone's business. They oppose the Coven Revolving with their ideas about the afterlife. I don't like talking about it much. I'm…. not really supposed to.
SHILOH: I'm taking a huge risk just by having you in here and telling you. But it’s been driving me fucking crazy. I know we just met, and I know you're sick and…. I dunno, there's something about you that... This feels different. Am I right in thinking that?
SHILOH: I think The Legion found me through my music. Which sucks so bad, since I love speaking my mind through my work and it's brought me a lot of love and joy. How was I supposed to know it would get used against me?
So one of them found me at one of my night gigs at Sol’s Cafe, had to have been two months ago. Came up to me after most of the crowd had gone home. He said he works for a label called Balladeer Records, was connected to the Witch City Radio Station, that Sound and The Fury radio show they do or something. He said he’d love helping produce my stuff and get it out there. Boost it on the station and streaming and get me some kind of album deal. I was ecstatic, dude, finally! Finally something bigger than just recording my woes in a friend’s makeshift studio. Didn't think twice about the fact that I had never heard of the label before. He said all I had to do was sign some papers and meet one of his higher ups. He didn't even give me names or anything. I was so fucking stupid in hindsight, but I was just so excited. It felt like such a huge move for me.
SHILOH: So I agreed. But what he didn't tell me was that he would immediately be taking me somewhere, that night. He grabbed my hand and tried to rush me out of Sol’s and barely gave me any time to get my equipment and stuff cleaned up.
It felt so shady. He took me to this tiny little shack over by the Primeval Forest, near Bethesda Cemetary. Right fucking over there. It’s right there, but it's easy to miss. Inside is this secret entrance to the catacombs, definitely not an authorized entrance or any shit like that.
SHILOH: This person sitting there is, I think, the highest person of power in the Legion. They had these piercing eyes. The guy from my show explained to them that I had agreed to join their ranks in exchange for artistic recognition. I tried to explain that I was confused and that the Balladeer guy was being vague, but it didn't seem to matter. I still initially agreed. They tricked me right in front of me.
The person on the throne explained that this was the corridors of The Legion of Eyes, and that here, I could find community, artistic success, and an eternal paradise. Because I agreed, I was one of them. They were going to pull some strings and get me a record deal, and all I had to do was join them and worship their god, who this person called The All-Seer. The deal was in motion before I could even process it. I felt so hopeless, watching these few people decide this for me without giving me a chance to explain myself. They forced me to sign some papers and congratulated me on my ability to see now.
SHILOH: I immediately was met with an EP marketing campaign and a plan for album rollout. But they're still pressuring me about doing some initiation ritual. They’re everywhere, man. I'll notice someone out in public pointing to their eyes and giving me some dirty look. I get cryptic letters in the mail. I go out early in the morning to smoke, and keep my ears open so I know that none of them are trying to come to my door. I'm scared, man. I don't think I should be even telling someone all this without trying to get them to join too.
My EP comes out next month. I know they're gonna try to initiate me before it comes out, but I dunno how much longer I can put it off.
What's gonna happen when people find out my albums were bankrolled by The Legion of Eyes?
Before you can think of an answer, you and Shiloh both hear a knock at the door downstairs. She freezes, moving only to cover your mouth with her hand. She hesitates to take too deep a breath. She stays put for a few seconds, and flinches when the knocking comes again. You both stay frozen for a few minutes, and the knock does not return a third time. Shiloh slowly tip-toes towards a window, with you not far behind her. Peaking through the blinds, you see someone walking down the sidewalk. Dressed in all black, but that's not out of the ordinary, and didn't look to be any sort of work dress like a postal worker or anything. Shiloh gives them a few to keep walking, and makes sure they don't turn back. You can't tell if she recognizes them or not, but that might not entirely matter.
Dressed in all black, but that's not out of the ordinary, and didn't look to be any sort of work dress like a postal worker or anything. Shiloh gives them a few to keep walking, and makes sure they don't turn back. You can't tell if she recognizes them or not, but that might not entirely matter.
SHILOH: Could you do me a favor?
SHILOH: I have a gig up at Sol’s around noon, I'm leaving in a bit for soundcheck. Would you be willing to walk me there? And maybe walk me home after? You don't have to stay for it if you don't want, but I just…. I'm sorry. I'm really freaked.
SHILOH: Thanks. I'm sorry, I'm probably throwing your whole day off and shit. I just… Fuck. I'm sorry. I mean.
Something occurs to her.
SHILOH: You're interested in knowing more about the Legion, right? You might get a kick out of Roman. He works at Spellbound, it's that little magic shop in the Pentacle district. It’s not far from Sol’s either, maybe you could stop in and talk to him while I'm doing soundcheck. He’s kinda all in on Legion stuff, but he's not a threat, trust me. He’s all talk and no bite. But he knows more than I do.
SHILOH: Thank you, man. You know, you're pretty cool, considering you basically showed up on my doorstep as a stranger. But, uh. Yeah. We should hang out more.
You give Shiloh some time and space to get ready to leave for soundcheck. You sit in this girl’s apartment and feel your heart ache for her. Hearing this story about The Legion of Eyes makes you resent them already. You sit in her apartment, surrounded by the epitome of all her love and all her passions, knowing she was bound to something looming over her. All this art and all this emotion, just fuel for some cult agenda.You have to make sure you know the full story. As much evidence as possible. Whether it’s going to The Oracle or to someone more powerful than you doesn’t matter. What matters is protecting the vulnerable for the claws of this cult as much as possible.You can't lie: the prospect of getting in over your head with information about the Legion is overwhelming, but also a bit thrilling. Deciding to live in spite of your illness is the best decision you've made in a long time.You leave with Shiloh and start making your way across town towards the Pentacle District. You two talk about music, about Witch City lesbian drama, about energy drinks, about atheism. But you notice her looking over her shoulders a lot. It fills you with a very distinct sadness.Maybe you don't really have that much time left, but you will spend it well. You feel the fire of Witch City burn in your blood. You will know what they know.Your heart beats.And you are alive.
SHILOH: Not by choice. I’ve come to find out they are not above blackmailing just to gain another body for their cause, so I can only imagine what other shit that they get away with.
SHILOH: As long as you promise not to tell another soul, dead or alive.
SHILOH: One of them found me at one of my night gigs at Sol’s Cafe two months ago, ranted and raved with me while everyone else was leaving. The murmurs of a cult were very dull at this point, but they were very much around. This guy seemed so genuine and professional, I would have never known. I wasn’t thinking, it wasn't even on my mind. But whatever. He said he worked for some label called Balladeer Records. I had never heard of it but he said they were desperate for new talent and that I fit the bill. He knows the people that run that radio show, Sound and the Fury, and they were looking for new artists to feature on the show. I was buzzing, dude, it felt so surreal that I wasn't even thinking about all the red flags. Vague about fucking everything. He said all I had to do was sign some papers and meet one of his higher ups. No names or anything, just needed a yes or no to working with them.
SHILOH: So I agreed. Didn't even really think about it, I was high off of just performing and the prospect of signing a deal. And before I knew it, this stranger was rushing me out of Sol’s and muttered something about that night being “perfect to introduce me”. Barely gave me anytime to get my equipment and stuff cleaned up. We were out the door within minutes of him walking up to me. Didn’t give me a choice, didn't listen, didn't hesitate.
He rushed me around the northern edge of town all the way to just across the street, near Bethesda Cemetery. It's so easy to miss, but there's this little shack hidden by the leftmost fence right outside the cemetery, it’s tucked away behind the trees. Once you notice it, you'll never forget it. There's a hidden staircase down to the catacombs in that shack. That’s where his fucking “office” was? I've never been so terrified in all my life. Not only is it cramped, dark, and reeking with death down there, but I was being guided by a complete stranger to who knows where to, do who knows what.
SHILOH: We walked down there for a few minutes before we came to this open chamber, alit with the most candles I've ever seen in my life. There were a few other people in there, but most notably was this person sitting on a big throne. It was gold and black and had eyes all over it and wings on the back. Someone in there was working on building another throne, and there were other smaller thrones in the corner that they probably made. This was, I think, the highest person of power in the Legion.
SHILOH: The Balladeer guy explained to them that I had agreed to join their ranks in exchange for artistic recognition. I tried to explain that this was not the fucking case, but it didn't seem to matter. I still initially agreed. I was afraid of what they'd do to me if I argued further.
The person on the throne explained that this was the corridors of The Legion of Eyes, and that here, I could find community, artistic success, and an eternal paradise. They were going to pull some strings and get me a record deal, and all I had to do was join them and worship their god, who they called The All-Seer. I felt so hopeless, watching these few people decide this for me without giving me a chance to explain myself. My life changed in front of me, and I feared debating it would cost me that very life. They forced me to sign some papers and congratulated me on my ability to see now.
SHILOH: I walked back home in the dark and knew someone was watching me with every step.
The next couple days I found myself in a flood of an EP marketing campaign and with a brand new plan for album rollout in the mail. It was at least cool doing all that and I’ve tried to funnel all my time into doing gigs and promoting. But they're still pressuring me about doing some initiation ritual thing. I don't want to go to paradise. I don't want to “see”. I'm worried that everyone is gonna know that my EP is Legion made. The last thing I want is for my music to be propaganda. It comes out next month, and I know they're gonna try to initiate me before it comes out, but I dunno how much longer I can put it off.
They're gonna come for me eventually. They're probably gonna have someone at my event today.
SHILOH: From what I know, their initiation ceremonies take place in the Primeval Forest. Something about a shrine and a rosary I have to find or something. Then I'll be officially a ‘Scryer’ and I’ll be able to go to their paradise when I die. I think somebody must have listened to my music and heard my lyrics about faithlessness and feeling lost and put me on their radar. I'm half convinced it was someone I know, maybe even someone on this street.
SHILOH: I'm scared of anything and everything, Freya. It's so new and deranged and confusing that I don't know where the Legion’s morals really are. They claim that they've unlocked the way to an eternal paradise, and preach high and mighty about worshipping The All-Seer and rejecting The Coven Revolving and the Book of Rebirth. To what ends, I don't know. They might want to see the Coven completely bend to their will. And I don't know what their limits are on achieving that.
SHILOH: I just don't want people to think that me opposing the Legion means that I'm now magically part of the Coven Revolving or a Renovacist in any way. I'm still an atheist. I can oppose two corrupt religions at the same time. I feel like the movement against the Legion is through the Coven, when I don't really think it should be? I dunno, man…
SHILOH: You don't want to get involved, dude. You’ve only got so much time—
She trails off, feeling the weight of what she just said to you. But you meet her with a smile anyways.
SHILOH: It would be a waste of your time.
SHILOH: You just want to be extremely careful. And like, I don't know how you'd even help me, specifically. I might just have to be in it for the long haul and take the wins with my music where I can.
SHILOH: I know.
You can hear her struggle against starting to cry. But she wins.
SHILOH: Listen, can we like… hang out more? And maybe figure this all out. If you're hellbent on getting more information without being roped in, I might be able to point you to people. But it's a dangerous game to play. You just… you have a will and energy I’ve never quite seen before. Feels like you could actually do something about all this.
SHILOH: Thank you. Really. So… I'm gonna be leaving in a bit to head to Sol’s cafe, I have an afternoon show and I gotta get there early for soundcheck. Could you maybe walk there with me? It's over in the Pentacle District. There's a guy I know that works over there who I think knows even more than I do about The Legion. It’s a good place to get information.
SHILOH: I envy that energy of yours.
She takes a second, as if she considers adding something to say, but she resists. You have a feeling it's something to do with your illness. Which wouldn't have bothered you, really, but the fact that she considered you…You give Shiloh some time and space to get ready to leave for soundcheck. You sit in this girl’s apartment and feel your heart ache for her. Hearing this story about The Legion of Eyes makes you resent them already. You sit in her apartment, surrounded by the epitome of all her love and all her passions, knowing she was bound to something looming over her. All this art and all this emotion, just fuel for some cult agenda.You have to make sure you know the full story. Anything to protect people like Shiloh. You can only imagine the other victims of this kind of manipulation that are out in the city. Or worse, victims of tactics much more damaging and horrifying. You can’t ponder it too much without making your stomach drop.You leave with Shiloh and start making your way across town towards the Pentacle District. You two talk about music, about Witch City lesbian drama, about energy drinks, about atheism. But you notice her looking over her shoulders a lot. It fills you with a very distinct sadness. Never again.Maybe you don't really have that much time left, but you will spend it well. You feel the fire of Witch City burn in your blood. You will know what they know.Your heart beats.And you are alive.
SHILOH: The afterlife? Has paganism disenchanted you too?
Shiloh takes a sharp inhale she seems terrified of letting go of.
SHILOH: Listen, Freya, I'm kinda the wrong person to ask about that sort of shit. Atheists are few and far between in Witch City and you just happened to be on the doorstep of one. But uh. I guess I can offer a piece of advice: doesn't matter what you believe, but make sure what you follow is what you want. Don't let them prey on you. ‘Preach' and ‘leech’ sound the same for a reason.
You can't see the top half of Shiloh’s face but something tells you that her eyes bug out of her head a bit. She starts fidgeting with her belt chains, taking noticeable glances over her shoulders, surveying the street. Her voice hushes to an intimate rasp.
SHILOH: Nice to hear someone else say it…
She coughs, loud.
SHILOH: My point is, uh… Don't be blinded by empty promises. Are you… looking for an afterlife?
You feel a tug. Not at anything tangible, but something set deep in your conscience. It’s your soul, and then there's… Freya, separating from you. She wants to talk, uninhabited. You let her.
FREYA: Nah, I just... People think I’m at death’s door or something so it's something I hear a lot. “Oh, what do you want to be reincarnated as?” “Oh, are you devout?” “I'll do my rituals for you!” It's all kind of exhausting. And then there's that…. that cult thing I’ve heard a bit about.
SHILOH: Oh, yeah. That.
FREYA: If I’m dying soon, I just want to have fun and go on my own terms. If I am nothing but my disease, I'll reincarnate as a new cancer. If I live my last couple months or whatever full of life, maybe I'll get lucky after I go or something. I dunno. I'd describe myself as a bit of an agnostic. But when you know one thing your whole life, it can be hard to follow an alternative.
Something Freya says makes Shiloh fidget even more. Maybe the thought of the sickness makes her uncomfortable. Freya lets you take control back.
SHILOH: If you think you're really gonna die soon, I'd say you're doing the right thing by living your full life and exploring before you go.
She grits her teeth and gets a little closer to you, words crawling from the back of her throat.
SHILOH: But don't listen to that fucking cult. They’ll infect everything.
Shiloh shakes her head, with the panic she’s been putting off becoming ever clearer. She whips her head around, making sure no one else is around, before she mutters something like, “Fuck it” under her breath, and takes you by the hand. She yanks you down her walkway and takes you inside the stairwell of her apartment. Hearing the echoes, she continues pulling you up the stairs up to a door on the right, presumably her apartment. She fumbles with a set of keys before flinging the door open and urging you inside, closing it tight behind you. On the other side of the door are many more locks, all of which she begins to frantically fumble with, locking every single one.Her apartment is small, so very indicative of a musician living here. An unkempt living room wild with scraps of scribbled lyrics and sheet music, some flannels and hoodies draping the couch, and the distant scent of tobacco. A tattered loveseat seems to have become the home of a sleek blue guitar, very clearly well loved but also well kept. Her kitchen is shockingly clean, perhaps too much so, aside from one empty bowl on the counter that looks like it was used for some ramen noodles. Many band posters line the walls, along with some shadow boxes full of concert memorabilia like bracelets and confetti. It's so… her.She goes over to the lone window overlooking the street and shutters the blinds, only after double checking no one strange has appeared on the street.She gives you a minute to process before she clears her throat, holding a single finger up to her mouth, and bringing her voice down to a raspy, forlorn whisper.
SHILOH: You plan on taking secrets to your grave?
She puffs her cheeks out with an exasperated breath. She rubs her forehead, briefly lifting her fluffy fringe for you to see her sullen, tired eyes.
SHILOH: You want information, right? That's why you came here, yeah? You want to learn about the cult, right? Right?
Her voice nearly breaks. You can only nod.
SHILOH: Well, you might as well get it from a source that's been entirely uprooted by them.
SHILOH: So they’re called The Legion of Eyes. I can only assume it was born as someone’s fever dream of a way to oppose The Coven Revolving. They use the catacombs to get around and hide underneath everything. They’re particular about where they put their feelers out. At least, right now, they are. They’re elusive but hidden in plain sight, and it's freaky as hell how they're just everywhere when you're not paying attention. They call themselves Scryers and just have their noses in everyone's business. But they're looking for people that are vulnerable. Those that are disillusioned with The Coven and the idea of reincarnating. People like me. They promise them an afterlife. A heaven.
SHILOH: I can only assume so. Must have heard my music and my lyrics or something. Disenchantment and faithlessness, a heavy target on my back. Doesn't help that they completely lied to me to get an agreement out of me. So maybe I was a target for my beliefs or lack thereof, but I was completely blindsided.
SHILOH: One of their higher-ups found me at one of my night gigs at Sol’s Cafe like two months ago. The murmurs of The Legion were very dull at this point, but they were very much around. This guy, he ranted and raved with me while everyone else was leaving, gassed up my music and performing and all that. He seemed so genuine and professional, I would have never known. He said he worked for some label called Balladeer Records. I had never heard of it but he said they were desperate for new talent and that I fit the bill. Something about the radio station, that show, The Sound and the Fury, and wanting to feature me on there. I was buzzing, dude, it felt so surreal that I wasn't even thinking about all the red flags. He said all I had to do was sign some papers and meet one of his own higher-ups. No names or anything, just needed a yes or no to working with them.
SHILOH: So I agreed. Didn't even really think about it, like I fucking should have. But I was high off of just performing and the prospect of signing a record deal. Why the fuck not, right? And before I knew it, this stranger was rushing me out of Sol’s and muttered something about that night being “perfect to introduce me”. Barely gave me anytime to get my equipment and stuff cleaned up. We were out the door within minutes of him walking up to me.
He rushed me around the northern edge of town, in the dark, all the way to just across the street from here, near Bethesda Cemetery. It's so easy to miss, but there's this little shack hidden by the leftmost fence right outside the cemetery, tucked away behind the trees. Once you notice it, you'll never forget it. There's a hidden staircase down to the catacombs in that shack. That’s where he was taking me. I've never been so terrified in all my life. Not only is it cramped, dark, and reeking with death down there, but I was being guided by a complete stranger to who knows where, to do who knows what.
SHILOH: We walked down there for a few minutes before we came to this open chamber, lit up with the most candles I've ever seen in my life. There were a few other people in there, but most notably was this person sitting on a big throne. It was gold and black and had eyes all over it and wings on the back. Someone in there was working on building another throne, and there were other smaller thrones in the corner that they probably made. The person there was, I think, the highest person of power in the Legion.
SHILOH: The Balladeer guy explained to them that I had agreed to join their ranks in exchange for artistic recognition. I tried to explain that this was not the fucking case, but it didn't seem to matter. I still initially agreed. I was afraid of what they'd do to me if I argued further.
The person on the throne explained that this was the corridors of The Legion of Eyes, and that here, I could find community, artistic success, and an eternal paradise. They were going to pull some strings and get me a record deal, and all I had to do was join them and worship their god, who they called The All-Seer. I felt so hopeless, watching these few people decide this for me without giving me a chance to explain myself. My life changed in front of me, and I feared debating it would cost me that very life. They forced me to sign some papers and congratulated me on my ability to see now.
SHILOH: I walked back home in the dark and knew someone was watching me with every step.
The next couple days I found myself in a flood of an EP marketing campaign and with a brand new plan for album rollout in the mail. It was at least cool doing all that and I’ve tried to funnel all my time into doing gigs and promoting. But they're still pressuring me about doing some initiation ritual thing. I don't want to go to paradise. I don't want to “see”. I'm worried that everyone is gonna know that my EP is Legion made. The last thing I want is for my music to be propaganda. It comes out next month, and I know they're gonna try to initiate me before it comes out, but I dunno how much longer I can put it off.
They're gonna come for me eventually. They're probably gonna have someone at my event today.
SHILOH: I was willing to give it the benefit of the doubt too. Like sure, if someone wants a way out of reincarnation and truly believes in a paradise, be my guest. Who am I to scoff at another dissenter that just wants peace in death? But it doesn't seem like everyone is in it on their own volition. And I'm not entirely convinced there isn't something more sinister going on for the people that are genuinely in this thing for the higher power of it all.
She nods.
SHILOH: I wish I caught their name. But I could tell, just from my brief interaction with them, that they were smart as a whip. Big, dark eyes, long, white hair, but not as tall as you’d think. They didn't need to be charismatic with me, I was essentially a captive already, but I could sense that urge… That charm that they clearly knew they had. Just with a tilt of their chin or a roll of their shoulders, how they looked down through their eyes, I could see how they could make someone fold. A quiet intensity, a fake warmth, and so attentive and cautious. Evident in how they surveyed the room, how they surveyed me. What a fucking bastard.
Shiloh puts her face in her hands.
SHILOH: Haven't seen them or the Balladeer since. They’ve got to keep profiles super low, right? If you knew them, they're so recognizable too. It’s fucking frustrating.
Shiloh looks on the verge of collapsing into tears.Freya takes over again. You let her.
FREYA: I know religion isn't your game. It isn't really mine either. But as someone on a time clock, I want to be as honest as I can be. I believe that one of my last acts on this planet will involve me finding out everything I can about The Legion of Eyes, and seeing all this bullshit dissolve. I know The Coven Revolving isn't exactly the greatest either, but what they do is very much in the public eye. Maybe they can help. I think, if we find like-minded people like us, we can expose them or something. Because you're right, if they’re lying off the bat and luring people in on false pretenses, who knows what else they’re getting up to? The disappearances lately, those are probably part of this too. It’s all shady as fuck. Being born in the catacombs alone should be enough to get people willing to weed it out.
SHILOH: Freya, if the Legion finds out I'm aligning with some sort of smear campaign against them, I'm scared they'll….. I dunno. I'm already a target for avoiding imitation. I'm scared shitless, man.
FREYA: You don't have to be a frontliner on anything. That's my job anyways! I might just need some help direction wise. I mean, you've got connections, right?
SHILOH: Yeah… Yeah, of course. I can help however I can, but I may need your help in return.
FREYA: For sure! Is there anything you need from me now?
SHILOH: I have a gig up at Sol’s around noon, I'm leaving in a bit for soundcheck. Would you be willing to walk me there? And maybe walk me home after? You don't have to stay for it if you don't want to, but I have a bad feeling. I'll find you right after and I won't stay and talk to anyone after. I don't think they'd send the Balladeer guy, but they might send someone else.
Freya lets you take the control back.
SHILOH: Thanks. I'm sorry. But hey, if you're looking for my connections, I do have an idea. There’s this guy, a former friend of a friend I guess, who works at Spellbound, it's that little magic shop in the Pentacle district. It’s not far from Sol’s, maybe you could stop in and talk to him while I'm doing soundcheck. His name is Roman. He’s kinda all in on Legion stuff from what I know, he knows a shit ton about what they're up to. He’s kinda all talk and no bite so he’s not a threat, trust me. But he knows more than I do.
SHILOH: Thank you, man. You know, you're pretty cool, considering you basically showed up on my doorstep as a stranger. But, uh. Yeah. We should hang out more.
You give Shiloh some time and space to get ready to leave for soundcheck. You sit in this girl’s apartment and feel your heart ache for her. Hearing this story about The Legion of Eyes makes you loathe them already. You sit in her apartment, surrounded by the epitome of all her love and all her passions, knowing she was bound to something looming over her. All this art and all this emotion, just fuel for some cult agenda.You have to make sure you know the full story. As much as you can. For The Oracle, for Shiloh, for all those gone missing, for you… Witch City deserves its clarity. Maybe the way to resist the Legion is just to protect the ones being preyed upon.You think about that person she mentioned, the one on the throne. It’s so obvious, right?You leave with Shiloh and start making your way across town towards the Pentacle District. You two talk about music, about Witch City lesbian drama, about energy drinks, about atheism. But you notice her looking over her shoulders a lot. It fills you with a very distinct sadness.Maybe you don't really have that much time left, but you will spend it well. You feel the fire of Witch City burn in your blood. You will know what they know.Your heart beats.And you are alive.
SHILOH: Good. Keep it that way.
A gust of wind cuts between the two of you, and brushes some of Shiloh’s bangs out of the way of one of her eyes. You catch one of her eyes, round with heartache and the color of fire. You'd like to think she also sees you, untethered and unbound from illness, taking note of the lesbian flag in one of her gauges and counting the eyes printed on her hoodie. She looks like she’s bursting at the seams to tell you something. But she keeps pushing it down.She sits back down on the curb of her walk way. She invites you down next to her.
SHILOH: Can I ask you something, Freya?
SHILOH: Do you ever think about what's beyond Witch City? Not afterlife shit, but real life shit. What's on the other side of the Primeval Forest. Where the ocean ends and meets another shore someplace else. Do you ever think about that? About the globe outside of our sphere?
SHILOH: Rumor is that the forest goes on for miles before there's another town. There's a mountain somewhere a little northeast, too. Maybe there's other atheists and agnostics out there. Maybe there are towns not built on their beliefs. A world that exists that isn't holy or unholy, but just is. Do you think that exists?
SHILOH: It's been heavy on me lately. The idea of someplace else. Shit, maybe I’m starting to sound like The Le…
She gives you a look, but you simply give her back a smile of understanding, and light her spark to keep speaking.
SHILOH: Not that I'm trying to convert people to a fucking cause. I'm just thinking of someplace else. For me. Like it's a self indulgent thing. You know?
And then, so quiet as if it is to herself instead of you.
SHILOH: I wonder if they would keep following me if I just ran away…
She flinches at herself and then looks briefly at you. But you understand. You just nod and bump her shoulder with yours to urge her to keep talking. She keeps the quiet tone, keeping her eyes over the street to make sure you're both alone.
SHILOH: I dunno why I even try to hide it at this point. The cult…. The Legion of Eyes, they’re called… they’ve upturned my life already. Have been blackmailing me for like two months now. They're the reason I’ve been rolling out more music and have more gigs, they baited me with artistic promise in exchange for my compliance. I’ve been avoiding them for weeks, but I don't know how much longer I can miss them. It’s heartbreaking, that this is what it took to get anywhere with my music and I was completely manipulated by them in doing so. I love my music, man, I love it more than anything. Except for one thing, and that one thing is my free will. So skipping town has been on my mind a lot.
SHILOH: But I can't. At the end of the day, I still see beauty in this city, I see it everyday. I see the witches drawing circles in the sands over by the wharf. The lights and costumes in the parade during the Autumn Equinox celebration. I go by Violet Moon university and I find myself falling in love with their little garden out front, with the rocks all arranged in pentacle shapes, and the coffin shaped plant boxes and the smell of the lavender. I see how the moon falls in love with the ocean and how the light dances on the water's surface. I see a guy with a jacket covered in spikes bend down to a little kid who wants to show them a frog they found and they laugh together. I see other artists at Sol’s cafe trading worn pages back and forth and writing poetry for each other. I may come off as cynical, but I love looking beyond the rosary and seeing people and nature for what it is and not what some book tells me they are. I don't see the cycle of reincarnation, I don't see the Gods moving things beyond my power. I see life. Both holy and unholy. Both the sacred and profane.
Is it possible? That my love for this city and its people outweighs my sense of freedom?
SHILOH: Sometimes, I fantasize about running away. But something always brings me back. Usually something mundane and small and maybe even insignificant. There was a ladybug on my door the other day, and it brought me back. The smell of Sol’s cafe, with the coffee brewing and the pastries fresh, that'll bring me back. I look into the forest and wonder what's beyond it, and sometimes it scares me too much, and that'll bring me back. I don't know if the unknown scares me more, or if the Legion threat does. So I’ve just been in a loop of my own thoughts. From ‘I could run away’ to, ‘But I’d be completely alone’ to, ‘I love this city too much'. You know?
SHILOH: I don't know why I'm even talking to you about this. Of course I'm just gonna stay here. I just need to figure it out.
SHILOH: Thank you, Freya.
She stands up and offers you a hand to pick you up.
SHILOH: I do actually have a potential favor for you, if that's chill.
SHILOH: So I have a gig up at Sol’s around noon, I'm planning on leaving in a bit for soundcheck. Would you be willing to walk me there? And walk me home after? You don't have to stay for it if you don't want to, but I just…. I'd like you there. We can talk more on the way. And it would just make me feel more at ease not being there alone. Just in case anyone is there looking for me.
SHILOH: Thanks. I'm sorry, I'm probably throwing your whole day off and shit. But uh... You're interested in knowing more about the Legion, right?
SHILOH: You might get a kick out of Roman then. He works at Spellbound, it's that little magic shop in the Pentacle district. It’s not far from Sol’s either, maybe you could stop in and talk to him while I'm doing soundcheck. He’s kinda all in on Legion stuff, but he's not a threat, trust me. He’s all talk and no bite. But he knows more than I do. He’s a little eccentric, but I think you’ll match his energy, maybe? It's a place to start at least.
SHILOH: Thank you, man. You know, you're pretty cool, considering you basically showed up on my doorstep as a stranger. But, uh. Yeah. We should hang out more.
You give Shiloh some time and space to get ready to leave for soundcheck. You sit outside her apartment and watch the street start to wake up. The music down the street gets a little louder and gains another singer. Two women, who couldn't be dressed more opposite to each other, emerge from the complex across the street holding hands and appear to be in deep conversation. A guy skateboards past you with a guitar case on his back. The clouds part from the sun and the October chill is broken by the dimmed heat hitting you. And the trees are exceptionally red and orange. The vision of fire.You have to make sure you know the full story about The Legion. As much evidence as possible. Whether it was going to The Oracle or to someone more powerful than you didn't matter. It’s becoming clearer to you that you need to help. Especially if no one else will.This is what your newfound energy must be for. To rise to the occasion, you need the strength to do so.You leave with Shiloh and start making your way across town towards the Pentacle District. You two talk about music, about Witch City lesbian drama, about energy drinks, about atheism. But you notice her looking over her shoulders a lot. It fills you with a very distinct sadness.Maybe you don't really have that much time left, but you will spend it well. You feel the fire of Witch City burn in your blood. You will know what they know.Your heart beats.And you are alive.