Chapter 1

Jerusalem 38 A.D.

Demas drummed stubby fingers on the polished table surface, all the while enjoying the distraught look of the woman sitting across from him. She reminded him of a mouse-small features, sharp dirty face, and piss poor.

“I do not know what to do. He hasn’t spoken or eaten in days. The other day-” The woman gulped and looked away. “-markings… they appeared on his body then miraculously disappeared. It was like I dreamed what I saw.”

Demas lifted a curious brow. He had only heard of markings but never seen it happen.

“He… he doesn’t attack anybody. I move him about, bathe him but he wouldn’t eat. He stares at nothing and mumbles in a tongue I do not understand. Miskar help me, please. My son would die if he goes on like this. He hasn’t eaten in days.” She struggled to hold in her sobs, her face contorting hideously from the effort.

Demas stared on, refusing to utter a word as she silently wept. When he stood, he carefully arranged his robe around his shoulders and circled the table. “Help, you say?”

“Yes, please.” The woman sniffed and swiped an arm over her runny nose. “I beg you. I can no longer bare to look at him without weeping. Gasmir was his father, surely you must have heard of him. He gave to the temple frequently. I am his widow.”

If she truly was the wife of Gasmir, why did she look so…beggarly? Her gown was a tattered mess, worn from too much washing, her hair possessed a dirty brown colour and hung to her shoulder like filthy strings.

“I remember Gasmir was a man of means. Whatever happened to his wealth?”

The woman’s gaze dropped as she clutched her garment with bony fingers. “His creditors came.” She looked up suddenly, large eyes brimming with more tears. “They took almost everything. My boy and I have struggled since the two years he died.

Her tears didn’t spark a single flame of sympathy in Demas heart. All he was able to catch in her speech was almost. That surely meant the woman still possessed something of value in exchange for his services.

“I am sorry Gasmir passed.”

The woman wiped her tears before nodding. “T-thank you.”

If only she knew what was coming next, she’d keep her gratitude. Demas walked to the open window of the little attending room. The street of Jerusalem was bustling with activities; donkeys pulling burdens, Roman soldiers walking past and speaking in their accursed tongue, and poor people-poor people everywhere.

Though his father was the chief priest whose livelihood had to be maintained by the offerings the people, Demas and his six brothers had since devised a means to create their own wealth. Knowledge was a freeing tool-a tool that brought liberation from poverty. It was knowledge that kept their purses heavy as they moved from town to town casting out demons.

The act of exorcism, though complicated, was possible to learn. Knowledge was power and if wielded properly would bring about astounding results. There were some basic spiritual laws that affected the physical and when these laws were manipulated, it almost always brought about a needed result.

As sad as Gasmir’s widow’s financial status was, there was no way he would offer his services for free. After the exorcism goes right, she would certainly spread the news of his free service to other poor people like herself and before he could blink, they would flood the place, asking for free exorcism the same way they did with a certain Jesus of Nazareth. He chuffed and looked away from the busy street, facing the sniffing woman once more.

“Twenty pieces of silver.”

Her reaction was instant. Face paling, she stared at him as though he were mad. Demas simply walked back to his seat and settled into its plush comfort. Pity his heart was dead to compassion when it came to money.

At last she spoke. “B-but. Please, Miskar. I beg you. You are the son of a holy man.” She dropped from her seat and held her palms together as if in prayer. Her tears fell in big drops, landing on her arms and garment. “I have no one else to turn to. Please, my boy would die if he is not freed f-from t-that.” She began to weep again, releasing loud sobs and doubling over, hands trembling as her stringy hair formed a curtain around her face.

The woman was so much like those who entertained the Romans with their disgusting lewd drama, summoning tears and moving with practiced theatrics. He knew she had the money, in all her pleas and explanation she never mentioned once that she had nothing. She just kept pleading for him to perform an exorcism for free. Irritation flared on his inside. Standing to his feet, he marched to the door and snatched it open. “Get out!”

The woman looked up, disbelief crossing her features. “Miskar?”

“I said, get out. You know what we use the money for yet you stay here, weeping for sympathy?”

“I-“

“Enough! I wouldn’t even take nineteen pieces. You stated your problem, I was gracious enough to listen and now you cry in order to prove what? That I am unrighteous for giving you the bill I charged? You insult me, woman. Leave, When you have what I require, come back.”

The woman used her cloth to wipe her tears; it would even seem the waterworks had done a marvellous job at cleaning her filthy face. Standing shakily, she clutched both hands in front of her and looked up. All sadness disappeared from her eyes, hardness replacing it. “Gasmir has a plot of land close to Giberthot. I would sell it and give you the required sum. Please, Miskar, try to make it soon enough. I fear delay would kill Hezekiah.” With those words, she brushed past him and stepped under the scotching Jerusalem sun.

Demas shut the door before he allowed a broad smile stretch his heavily bearded face. He had good news for his brothers.

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Awesome citizens of the wattpad nation, greetings! *waves enthusiastically*

How’s the chapter? I think Demas is such a nice fellow. 😊