Shadows quivered upon the wall, the tallow candle lumped in its liquid fat. One flame was all that brought uneven light to the chamber. A deep breath, in and out, to find the vision.

The quill began its scratch into the vellum and the iron-gall ink began its flow into the etched ravine:

Ye, my Brothers, had besought and bade me to wit what shall come in a five hundred years time in MMXXII anno domini nostri Jesu Christi. Ye list to wot what the year shall shew. I tell you this, it shall be a time of light and darkness. Ave Maria, gratia plena.

Men, who shall not look much different than ourselves - though with particoat garments unusual and hair cut in most odd forms - shall still walk the Earth. Though their wagons have not a horse, their wheels quicken from some force of their own. Whether powered by Angels or fired by Hell, I cannot perpend and I am left to want in knowledge of that.

Ye may think I am unpregnant, but do not become wall-eyed. I have seen how the light of the Moon shall shine in the eyes of human offspring. A pale blue infernal trap shall adhere to hands and ears. Their fingers shall wildly tap- their hearts and words full of hate and vitriol - they look no more to sky nor ground - nor to the face of the other.

They look but into that infernal gleam, turn themselves from the Face of God. Gloria Patri, et filio, et spiritui sancto!

The Devil hath taken them; ravin they lose their souls ere Death dost seize them. Their eyes a blank stare, their thumb grown longer than the Demon Lamashtu’s.

A far future that bodeth not well.

I lapse and want the will to go on. Suffer me this that I draw the future no more. Ora pro nobis!

The quill quivered to a halt. The inkwell had dried, the candle gone out. A vision depleted, and to be no more.

Brother Provisus Lucidus was burned at the stake, none could believe his hellish vision. They thought it had been sent from the Dark Lord and was not a warning from the Most High and Holy God.

They were wrong, not all light comes from the triune Face of God.