The Lost Letters of Brother Gabriel

Brother Gabriel, Daniel’s mentor and an ancient Urbat, plays an important role in
The Lost Saint
as well as the upcoming conclusion to the Dark Divine trilogy,
The Savage Grace
. We were first introduced to Gabriel in
The Dark Divine
when Grace receives a book of ancient letters that Gabriel (a young monk at the time) wrote to his sister during the Crusades, detailing his search to know more about the Urbat. The book of letters ends just before Gabriel falls to the Urbat curse, leaving us to wonder what happened to him in the following years to turn him into the man he is today.

Most of Gabriel’s letters were written during the thirteenth century, and later translated and compiled by an Orthodox priest in the eighteenth century. For whatever reason, some of Gabriel’s letters were lost after translation and did not make it into that original book. But good news! A few of these “lost letters,” detailing Gabriel’s fall to the Urbat curse and his quest to seek revenge on the man responsible for his demise, have recently been “discovered” by the indomitable crew at Egmont USA, and are compiled here for your reading pleasure.

I hope you enjoy
The Lost Letters of Brother Gabriel
. I think they give a lot more depth to Brother Gabriel’s character and the mythology of the Dark Divine trilogy.

Always,

first letter

Katharine! Oh, Katharine!

I write to thee now because I do not know when, or if, I will ever have the opportunity again. I do not even know how much time has passed since I last wrote to thee—since I was last human.

I tried to run from the Urbat curse after I was infected. I tried to flee this wretched place before the curse could take me over. I left my other letters and a dagger for you in my tent, then packed a sack and headed for the forest. Before I got too far, the most horrible noise filled my ears. I’d heard nothing like it before. It was high-pitched and ethereal, yet it filled every fiber of my soul and clutched at my heart like the devil himself. The noise pulled me toward it, out of the forest, and through the burning walls of the great city. My friend Jonathan de Paign tried to stop me in my tracks, telling me to go back before I was swallowed by the chaos of the city. Alas, there was no escaping the draw of that noise.

Oh, how I wish now I had let Jonathan stop me from finding my horrible fate!

It took me only moments to follow the noise through the city—like a supernatural speed carried me on my feet—to a crumbling church. Flames lapped from its boarded windows like the tongues of yellow serpents. Five knights from our encampment stood in front of the chained entrance doors, holding torches in their hands. They shouted at me to join them, smiles on their sooty faces. The sound was so strong here; it engulfed me to the point that I was sure I must be a lunatic, for the others did not seem to notice it. To my horror, I realized that the high-pitched noises were screams. The screams of women and children—trapped inside the fiery church.

Burning alive.

I ran for the door, shouting at my brothers to help me. Surely, they heard the noise—even over their laughter. One of the men caught me by the arm as I attempted to pull at the chains from the door. He laughed and said he enjoyed the delicious smell of burning traitor flesh. The others laughed and made crude gestures.

And then I knew. These knights from my encampment, men I called
brothers
, had set fire to this church themselves, knowing people were trapped inside. Women and their babes, from the sound of their dying voices, choking off now from the smoke, who had most likely sought sanctuary from the ransacking of the city in this place of God.

“Thou didst this?” I shouted at the knight. “Under what authority doest thou desecrate this holy place? Let me go, and free these innocent saints!”

“Under my authority, Brother Gabriel,” a voice said from behind me. “And there are no saints inside there. Only heathens and traitors, and I am sending them to hell where they belong.”

I whirled around, the knight still gripping my arm, and found Father Miguel standing before me. The torch in his hand seemed to burn brighter than the others. I knew right then that this man who claimed to be God’s servant—this man I followed to this place in an effort to build the Church—was responsible for this evil.

Rage filled my heart. A terrible trembling shuddered through my body, and a voice inside my head told me to destroy Father Miguel; these men must die for this heinous crime. That was the only way to save the souls inside the church.

Before I knew what was happening, I’d lunged at Father Miguel, my hand outstretched to grab him by the throat. Alas, as I made the movement, that rage in my heart ripped through me, and I collapsed in a writhing, quaking shudder, and it felt as though something was clawing its way out of my body. I heard the knights scream, and everything went hazy, like when we’d open our eyes under the dark water of the lake in the woods behind our home. Father Miguel dropped his torch, and he and the five soldiers ran.

I lunged after them, yet my body was no longer my body.

I was an animal.

A beast.

It felt as though I was watching this monstrous version of myself chase after them, as if I were out of my new body, watching from a great distance. Unable to stop myself as I caught one of the men with my claws, sinking my new fangs into the flesh of his skin…

I do not remember much more of what happened. What I did. For I awoke several hours later, even days later, for all I know, with dried blood caked on my hands—my human hands—and on my face. The bodies of two of the soldiers I had chased lay near the smoldering ruins of the church. I knew it was too late to save the people inside. They were as dead as the men I was surely responsible for killing.

I stumbled back to my encampment to find that Father Miguel and everyone else had gone. Fled from me—the beast—before I could come after them also.

I am all alone now, Katharine. And I am lost.

So very, very lost.

The monster has devoured me.

How can I go on?

Katharine,

Doest thou remember the promise I made to my beloved Marie?

That night the baby would not come, and the midwife said there was nothing more she could do, I held Marie in my arms as she cried out for the Lord to come take her and our child so the devil’s spirits would not claim them before the angels could. I brushed her wet hair from her face and reassured her that heaven awaited her soul. She smiled up at me for the briefest moment and told me she could see a light, and her mama, waiting for her. Then she tried to squeeze my hand and made me promise I would come find her in heaven when my time to leave this world came. She said it would not be heaven without me. She made me swear that I would reunite us in our love.

When Marie left me, I held her cold body for hours. I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole to save me from my sorrow. I did not know how to keep my promise to find her. Marie’s good heart was the only thing about her greater than her wit and beauty, and how could I, a simple seventeen-year-old peasant, dream to live a life pure enough to meet her in the heavens? That is why I chose to join the monastery despite thy and Uncle Jean’s protests. I planned to sequester myself away, devote myself to God Almighty, if that is what it would take to bring me back to Marie.

Alas, I foolhardily followed Father Miguel on
his
crusade. We were supposed to help build up the Church, bring salvation to the Holy Land. Only now, Father Miguel has destroyed me. He and those knights who burned those souls in that church—they have made me break my promise to Marie. Because of them, I will never know heaven. I will be damned to hell as a demon-wolf for all eternity. They have stolen my Marie and our child from me.

That is why they deserved to die, Katharine. That is why I have punished them. Two of the six men who burned the church and murdered those women and children died by my hands the night I became a wolf-man. At first I was disgusted and frightened by what I had done. Yet, now I know it is what they deserved. They needed to die.

I have hunted down more of the knights. Found them back in their homes with their families, living under the pretense that they had done nothing wrong.

In Dijon, I discovered one of the knights, telling stories in a tavern of his courageous feats, poisoning the crowd with his lies. Flaming rage filled me once more, and that night I let myself become a demon again. I stalked the knight on his way home from the town’s square and killed him, and the tavern wench who hung on his arm, before he could speak another lie to anyone.

In Amiens, I tore the flesh from the man who laughed outside the church and said he enjoyed the smell of burning traitors, but only after I killed his son in front of him.

The third man must have heard of the others’ fate, for he fled to Venice before I could find him in Amiens as well. He must have supposed himself safe from a wolf in a city surrounded by water. I left his body in a canal.

I have punished many others who I have encountered in my journeys. Alas, the worst murderer of them all continues to elude me. I know he hides behind his unholy robes, seeking refuge in monasteries, cowering from the stories of the demon-wolf who seeks to destroy all the men who took part in the slaughtering of the Greek Christians.

I swear this to thee, Katharine: I will not rest until he pays for what he has done. If I cannot follow my Marie to heaven, then I will drag Father Miguel to hell with me.

No matter where he runs.

Oh, Katharine, what have I done?

I do not know why I write to thee now. Thou wilt never see this letter. Not unless the angels themselves were to light it to thee on their wings. Alas, no angel would dare to come near a demon as horrible as I.

Why did I not stay away?

When I heard Miguel had returned to our village, that he was living like a fatted pig on the hill overlooking the cottage I once shared with Marie, I should never have gone after him there. I should have fled as far from home as possible, stayed away from even the thought of seeing thee.

I should have known I wasn’t strong enough. I let the wolf force me home to our village. It told me I
must
finally take my vengeance against Miguel. Alas, I realize now it was not Miguel that the wolf wanted me to find.

It was thee, little sister.

When I came to our village, I wanted to go straightaway to destroy Miguel and leave before anyone recognized me. Only, the wolf in my head prodded me to go see thee first. It knew my heart and how badly I longed to be home with thee.

I thought I could watch thee from a distance so I could know that thou were happy in thy life with Simon Saint Moon. The wolf assured me it was what I must do if I were ever to rest.

I stood at the edge of the forest and watched thee pick sweet herbs from thy garden. Thou hadst grown so much in the last few years—from a girl into a woman. Thy hands were strong, and thy face was fuller and softer; I realize now from becoming a mother. Seeing thee was not enough. I wanted to embrace thee, and swing thee around in the air like I used to when we were young. I wanted to feel human and loved again.

Yet it was the love I felt for thee that frightened me. The wolf recognized that feeling and wanted me to kill thee. I could feel it writhing in my heart, under my skin. I fought with its howling cry for thy blood in my head. For every step I took farther back away from you, the wolf prodded me two steps forward. I prayed that thou hadst received my letters and the silver dagger, and that thou would know what I was, and what to do, if thou didst see me.

At one moment I thought thou
didst
see me at the edge of the forest, or maybe thou didst only sense the danger near thee. I watched thee straighten up and look into the forest, thy gathering basket clutched in thy hands. Then thou didst call out, “Doni, Doni, go into the house, my boy,” and I saw the toddling child for the first time. I watched his tiny feet as he followed your order and went into thy cottage with a small cloth doll, like the kind Marie happily made in anticipation for our own babe.

My heart felt like it had been ripped out by anger and grief as I remembered the child that should have been mine before Marie was taken from me. The child I would never have now.

A flaming pain overtook my body and I fell to the ground. I fought the beast, tried to keep it at bay. Alas, I knew I had lost the battle when a great howl surged through my body and everything went murky inside my mind.

I imagine thou didst not have enough time to run from thy garden to thy home when thou didst see the giant wolf lunge out of the forest. I seem to remember thy screams for Simon to keep Doni safe.

I awoke in the forest some time later. Blood painted my arms. Blood that smelled like sweet herbs from thy garden, and knew what I had done.

I am so sorry, Katharine. Thy love for me was the only possible cure to rid me of the curse of the demon-wolf, and now that thou art gone like Marie—as was the wolf’s greatest desire—I will be trapped in its claws forever. I wish only to die now, so I can receive my eternal damnation for what I have done to thee.

If thou findest my Marie in heaven, tell her I am not coming for her—if she does not know already what I have become.

I have forsaken my promise.