His very name grown accursed

The wanderer did wander, as he had for many years. Traitor, they called him, his very name grown accursed, and traitor he was. For he had betrayed his master, whom he had loved so dear, and so now he was cursed to walk the earth. Always seeking redemption. Always seeking the acceptance he had once known.
The first time he had tried to settle, after the betrayal, the town was stricken with a plague. The locusts had come, and eaten all of their food, laying eggs, to ensure they would be hungry for decades. They had starved him for it, and he should have died. But he didn’t.
That was millennia ago.
It was the fault of the great serpent, the false star-of-the-morning, that he now walked the earth, the fault of his master’s wayward servant, the snake of six wings, that he now walked the earth. Even the Evil that Is must give glory to God, but he chose to give that glory by cursing the wanderer, by making him betray his master.
He had once tried to end this, all those years ago, with a hempen noose. He had tried to end it, and failed, for though the rope stopped his breathing and circulation, the curse kept him alive. Alive until his beloved master returns.
The wanderer had wandered, for oh so very long, but he had never found what he was looking for, never found acceptance. When he had given back the blood-money, they bought a field with it, a place of burial for the gentiles, an unclean place. Another spit in the face.
He and his brothers had prayed and dined together that week. In that fateful and sad week when he had betrayed his master with a kiss, betrayed him to die. He belonged then. He did not belong anywhere now.
Now he wandered, hoping to one day find redemption for his sins.
Today he wandered into Jerusalem, for the first time since he left, all those years ago… He met a young boy, a poor boy on the street. He fed the boy, and gave him shelter. The boy was an outcast, like him. His master had come to the outcasts, he supposed, to give them a place where they would belong, and yet the wanderer had still betrayed Him
He decided to try to ask for forgiveness, in the hope that be accepted again. In the hope that he would belong. And so he wandered through Jerusalem, until he came to Aceldama, the place of blood, the fruit of his betrayal, and yet also, now, a monastery. However, he was stopped from entering, by a man, a beautiful man, shrouded in light, by an urn filled with lighted charcoal.
“Why do you come here, wanderer?” This beautiful man asked
“To atone for old sins” Replied the wanderer
“Only ask, and you will be forgiven.”
At this point, the wanderer knew who this man was, and why he was here. He went over to the man, and kissed him on the cheek. “Master” He said, echoing the words of his betrayal.
“Go, now, you are forgiven”
He knocked on the door to the monastery of St Onuphrius. A monk came out “Why are you here, child?” he asked
“To do penance, brother”
“Then come in”
He tried to enter, but as he did, he stumbled on the doorstep, and his body was torn asunder. He died then, finally given peace. He was with his brothers again, all of them, once again accepting him as one of their own. And then they were back on earth, surrounding the master, the man outside with his urn. Once again, he belonged with them, his name no longer accursed.



Judas Iscariot