The plan was simple. Gather the town for an exorcism. A man who had been at rest was corrupted by a dark power and all Malachi needed to do to help was to protect the inner circle while the man was helped.
If only it were that simple.

The fight began. A fight had been expected, but the only thing that had been known was that the anger of this man would manifest and try to enter the circle.

It was dark. Malachi’s eyes had trouble adjusting but he stood fast, protecting his section of the circle. It was just him and Neccio so they would need to remain vigilant at all times and work quickly. Something rushed Malachi and he stepped forward on instinct and struck out. When his blade came back to a guard position there was fresh blood. And a cry of pain from his opponent. He had harmed a man. Horror scraped up from his gut, threatening to reach his heart.

“Remember your training. Stay calm. The wound isn’t fatal, he can be stabilized.

The soul does violence to itself to itself when it harms any man – for all humankind is but a single emanation of God.”

Malachi stood there for several seconds on that battlefield, staring down at the man on the ground. Another assailant charged forward and struck Malachi, but their blade seemed to slide off his flesh as he took a breath to center himself against the pull of his anguish. In another moment he was mobile again, moving to put himself in between the soldiers and the members of the Runeheim Forum, in the hopes of preventing any more harm coming to people.

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The battle ends. The malefic releases the soldiers and many of them fall to the ground screaming in pain. Several people move over to help them. Malachi is relieved, knowing that those that remain will be okay. And so Malachi also falls to the ground and cleans the blood remaining on his blade.