The Flames of Virtue

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The flames of virtue, they call it. The eternal fire that burns the sins of the unworthy and purifies the chosen ones. They say if you are marked by the flames, you are one of the blessed, the anointed, and the gods will favor you above all others. But I know the truth. I have seen what lies behind the flames, what horrors lurk in the shadow of the divine light.

The branding ceremony is a spectacle to behold, a grand display of faith and devotion. The chosen ones are brought before the altar, naked and trembling, while the priests chant their hymns and light the pyres. And then the flames rise, hotter than the sun, searing the flesh, melting the bones, scorching the soul. And through the screams and the smoke, the gods look down upon their faithful, pleased with their offering.

But I have seen what happens to those who are branded. The eternal flame burns not only the sins, but also the mind. The blessed become the cursed, the anointed become the deranged, and the gods' favor turns into their curse. They wander the streets, half-mad, half-human, their branded flesh glowing with an otherworldly light, their eyes fixed on a reality beyond our own.

And I have seen what lurks beyond that reality, what haunts the mind of the branded. The flames of virtue are not the gate to heaven, but the portal to hell. Through the branded flesh, the demons of the netherworld whisper their secrets, their promises, their lies. They offer power, knowledge, and pleasure, but at a price that no mortal should pay.

I know this, for I am one of the branded. The flames of virtue burned my skin, my mind, my soul, and left me with a hunger that nothing can satisfy. I have seen the horrors that lie beyond the flames.
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