The mountain trail grew steeper as we climbed. “Hold.” My companion said stopping. “Do you see it?”

I squinted to where he pointed. Ahead the air shimmered like desert heat. “I see it.”

Pulling out his dagger, and holding it up in front of him by the sheath, he advanced towards the demon. “By my power I compel you!” He shouted as he withdrew the circlet of thorns from his belt. He squeezed the braid drawing blood, and whipped that hand forward, crimson droplets splattering themselves on the shimmering shape in front of him. “This realm is not yours. Return to the place from whence you came!”

“Our brother comes.” Hundreds of voices shouted and whispered all around.

He looked up to the sky where dark clouds were forming, then he charged the demon, dagger still held out and pressed it against the demon’s chest. “I said begone from here!” Steam rolled up where the dagger touched, leaving an imprint of its shape floating in the air. Slowly it faded, as did the voices. “We have no time, let us continue.” He said replacing the dagger and thorns.

At the summit, I was stunned by what I saw. An alter awaited. Bloodied bones pressed into the ground formed runes in an ever-diminishing concentric pattern, and in the center stood a blood-stained slab of rock.

My friend turned to me, sadness in his eyes. “I must ask you to stay back.”

“Why? I am sworn to fight by your side.”

“I must face this alone. You must bear witness.”

“I will give my blood and body for you. Please let me fight with you.”

He took my head in his hands kissing my cheeks. “You will bear witness to the other twelve. I am sorry. I love you brother.” As he stepped into the circle, mad ranting voices rang out, crying in a demonic tongue.

Under the dark sky he walked to the stone alter, disrobing to his small clothes. He laid down and drew his dagger. The blade glistened darkly, the color of fresh blood. Defiantly he looked into the black abyss above and shouted, “By my power I compel you! This realm is not yours!” With that he plunged the dagger into his heart.

As I let out an anguished cry, a pure white bolt shot down, connecting the hilt of the dagger with the celestial realm. The force of the bolt pushed me back, the holy light blinding me. When my vision cleared, I saw, there on the alter, nothing but the dagger was left. I stumbled forward over the light bleached bones to the cleansed rock.

The dagger shone brightly, like finely polished silver. I took the blade in shaking hands. As I did, I spotted something else. His circlet of thorns lay just under the alter. I retrieved it, setting it upon my head. The pain of the thorns digging into my scalp was a pitiful thing compared to the loss of my dear friend.