The List

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The List
#1
The List
A long time ago, but not so long I don't remember much about what things were like beforehand, Dark Lord Vaeru appeared. Nobody seemed to know where he'd come from, or who he was before he started calling himself a Dark Lord, or how he amassed power so seemingly-suddenly, but there wasn't time to find much out before he made his move. Within months, most of the major kingdoms had fallen or surrendered, and in under a year only the Free City of Terrus was flying its own flag. The city hunkered down for an extended siege, counting on its cliffs to defend it and extensive internal agriculture to sustain it. It sat for weeks, surrounded only by a token force that prevented refugees coming or going, waiting for a strike that would never come. In time, the Dark Lord himself arrived and requested an audience with the city's council; nobody knows what happened that day, but the rumor is that he explained that he'd finished developing some sort of alchemical superweapon that would completely annihilate the city if it didn't surrender to him. Regardless of the truth, the council acquiesced, and Vaeru crowned himself uncontested emperor of the entire known world. There was a perfunctory celebration, and he immediately began rebuilding.

It didn't take long. What surprised most people, looking back, was how little devastation there was. There simply hadn't been that many major battles, and those that had happened had mostly been quick and surgical. Vaeru had succeeded early on mostly by shock and awe, carefully dividing kingdoms and city-states such that there was rarely any reason for neighbors to come to each other's aid. By the time he was a clear enough threat on a global scale that a major organized resistance began stirring, he and his armies had grown big enough that he couldn't reasonably be contested. Most simply surrendered as Terrus had: it probably helped that the ones that didn't see what he called reason, he completely wiped off the map.

What was strange – or at least, what I found strange – was that he never stopped rebuilding. I suppose I'd have expected someone who called themself a Dark Lord, with capitals and everything, to just sort of play with the world like a toy, to use it until it broke. But Vaeru went on a relentless campaign of urban development, replacing decrepit slums with free and livable housing, building roads, rooting out bandits and monsters. Instead of the secret police and roving bands of corrupt guards everyone expected, civil service sprang up behind him. In a strange way, life got... better. For a lot of people. It was almost enough to make people forget about the whole dark lord business, and the public executions that still happened sometimes.

Almost.

And I guess that's why I'm thinking about all this. Some people still want to overthrow Vaeru. Maybe even a lot, I don't know. Some don't want to have their freedom restricted, some lost family in the wars before he was crowned, some people just object to the whole evil empire thing on principle. There are still attempts at assassinations and coups pretty regularly, although they keep getting less and less frequent as time goes on. Nobody's managed it yet, and organized rebellions tend to get quashed. Heavily and quickly. And after a failed assassination, there's always the aftermath. It's happening downstairs right now. We got a visit from a couple of armed guards and some bureaucrat, and they told us my brother had been killed while making an attempt on the Dark Lord's life. I couldn't stay down there and watch how stony my parents' faces got at the news, watch them not react to the gush of soothing, businesslike words. Watch my mother fiddle with her apron strings like she always does when she's trying to stop her hands shaking. They'd always told Gareth he was going to get himself killed. And now they were right.

Up here, I can't hear anything but a low murmur, but I already know what's being said. Same thing that got said to my friend Becca last year. They're very sorry for our loss, accept this pension for the death of our son, his remains will be delivered next week. Tax adjustments will be made for us this year to account for the tragic death of a family member until arrangements can be made. This is the address of a priest of Solenus who can help with any grief counseling we need. If any surviving member of the family ever makes an attempt on a government official's life or is discovered to be a member of a rebel organization, the entire family will be summarily executed, all property seized, and any titles stripped posthumously. Please accept whatever aid we need in this trying time.

The talking stops, and I've barely heard my father speak once. There's silence for a while, and I know it's because there are forms to be filled out. Eventually, the voice that talks the most speaks up again, and my mother answers. A few seconds later, there's a knock at my door and the bureaucrat lets herself in. She introduces herself, but I'm not really listening. She's wearing what I assume is a very calculatedly nonthreatening knit garment and a brown skirt, and Vaeru's emblem is pinned at her neck. It strikes me how much it almost doesn't look like a skull anymore. How easy it is to forget the meaning of a symbol you see every day. She keeps talking, and hands me some papers and a stub of lead. I start filling them out. There's no reason not to, to resist. It's all strangely mundane. Could almost be tax forms, until I get to the last few questions. One in particular stands out to me.

Which of the following best describes you?

a) I am a squire training for officership in a military or paramilitary organization, about to achieve full recognition and nervous about taking the final steps into leadership and true combat roles. (Please indicate affiliation and primary weapon proficiency)

b) I support my family primarily through hunting and trapping, and have become somewhat reclusive or withdrawn after spending the majority of my time in the wilderness by myself. (Please indicate type of environment you specialize in surviving in)

c) I am a novice priest with strong resolve, but am finding my faith tested by the state of the world and the restrictive and sometimes seemingly contradictory rules and tenets of my church. (Please indicate deity's or deities' name[s] and domain)

d) I am an apprentice or student alchemist with ambitions of eventual greatness, looking forward to completing my training and beginning my own studies or business. (Please indicate alchemical specialty and name of master or educational facility)


The answers are... weirdly specific. Which I guess is why I'm a little annoyed one of them fits me so closely.
#2
RE: The List
A priest of Blaspheme, patron god of rebels, scholars, and truth.
#3
RE: The List
C), deity is Adheros the Crimson, domain is Filling Out Forms.
#4
RE: The List
Alchemist, specializing primarily in transmutation to base metals and secondarily in the purification thereof. Not as glamorous as turning lead to gold, but Master Abdulrashid always claims the gold's not as useful.
#5
RE: The List
You are a hunter/trapper, living far away in the great northern forests. You specialize mainly in capturing magical/exotic animals, to sell as pets.
#6
RE: The List
[Image: thelistresponse.jpg]
#7
RE: The List
I am a novice priest, follower of Obviata, goddess of the obvious. Obviously.
#8
RE: The List
I circle c and fill in the blanks. Cram them in, really. They never seem to give enough space on these things. Or maybe I'm just long-winded, I don't know. After that particular question, nothing really jumps out at me as particularly weird, just more demography and history and stuff I privately imagine is just there to give the army of clerks something to look at. Hell if I know. Towards the end my mind starts to wander and I just check things off at what I think is a reasonable enough pace that the still-smiling bureaucrat watching me won't suspect I'm not taking her job seriously. b, d, a, b, b, c d c c b b a a a aaaaa

I slide the papers back towards her, assuming that'll be the end of it. I'm a little surprised when she starts reading the answers then and there; I'd figured she was just here to collect, not process anything. Or maybe she is and she's just nosy. She hums tunelessly and idly bites at her left pinky nail as she flips through the pages, eyes whizzing back and forth with the practiced speed of someone who's seen hundreds of lives condensed down to forms and bubbles and fill-in-the-blanks. Near the end, one of her eyebrows rises.

"Akash? Huh, looking at you, I'd have guessed you were a Blasphemer. I'm usually pretty good at this!"

"No."

I don't mention that I nearly joined the Ekklesia of Blaspheme back when I first decided to enter the priesthood. Everything else had seemed mundane and inconsequential, compared to a life of interpreting the divine, but it turns out even divinity becomes mundane when you see it up close enough. Close enough to see how human the whole endeavor is, anyway. Even the angels seem to have agendas, on those rare occasions I've been around for a Missive. I still can't really say why I settled on Akash. I'm not sure if the teachings just resonated with me more, or if I felt divine inspiration and a calling to the Shackled God. Or maybe it's just that I could already see there wasn't much future for a Blasphemer. Not under Vaeru. There was a time when people were worried he'd outlaw religions he didn't like, or try to instate some sort of theocracy. There were suspicions that a lot of the faiths would want to rise up against him. The collective priests and faithful of the Pantheon held their breath. And started to turn blue, eventually, and ended up panting and looking at each other with confusion. He seemed to have no interest in meddling with the way the world worshiped, or setting himself up as a god. Even the Blasphemers, whose teachings meant they were outspoken critics and opponents of the Dark Lord, found nobody burning their temples or quietly assassinating them. They simply began... falling out of favor, as the other faiths started to adapt to a new world with Vaeru in it.

Gareth had been a Blasphemer. They'd always told him he'd get himself killed.

I can feel my attention wandering. I blink a few times and try to focus on the woman in front of me. She's laughing, folding up the rest of the papers. Hasn't even looked at the last page or so.

"Alright, that's more like the Akashis I know."

I color a little at that, or at least imagine I do. It seems like I ought to feel embarrassed or annoyed, but I just... don't.

"I'm glad I have your approval, then."

She doesn't respond, except with the snap of her bag closing around my forms. That seems to be all she needs of me. I briefly wonder what would have happened if it had been Blaspheme in that blank, if she'd have reacted differently. I consider getting offended on behalf of my god to be so dismissed, but...

Oh, she's talking again.

"Now, I'd like to have you come back to the department with me for a follow-up interview. I understand you've lost your oldest brother, and this can be a trying time. I'd like to make sure you get everything you need, and there's a bit more we need from you, too."

Not really knowing why, I point to my prepared vestments hanging by the door. "I can't. I have a sermon to deliver."

It's true, by and large. I do have a sermon to deliver. This evening. In the same city she'd be taking me to for an interview. The two would in no way interfere with each other, but something deep inside me automatically rejects the notion of going to this interview.

Her eyebrow comes back up. "But you're just a novice."

"It's traditional to have one of the novices lead the services at least once a week." Any member of the flock that actually notices is considered for the priesthood themself.

She purses her lips, but doesn't object further. After a few moments, she fishes another slip out of her bag, grabs my lead, and scribbles something down, muttering "Religious... exemption."; I decide to push my luck.

"I need to prepare now, please. If I could have my room back?"

She nods, dropping a card on my table. "Remember, if you ever need anything..."

"Yes."

"We'll be in touch."

She leaves.

I slowly pull on my robes, watching out my window as she collects her guards and meanders back down the road. After a time, a carriage comes to collect them, which makes me wonder why they walked at all. Surely the carriage could have come all the way to the house.

As I pull on my boots, I realize the house is silent. Nobody in the kitchen, no voices in the den, nothing clinking in my father's toolhouse. Without warning, the quiet becomes oppressive. I can't just stay here, studying the Phuenixis and preparing for tonight, even though that had been my plan half an hour ago. An hour. However long. Without thinking, I sweep downstairs and out the front door. I'm halfway to the old oak up the road before whatever's burning inside me burns out and I realize I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing. Or why.

Ahead, a couple hours' brisk hike or an hour's trot if I bother to get a kelpie, is Kellinsburgh. I'll have to get there eventually, if only so I can deliver my sermon this evening, but maybe I should head there early. Maybe even go that interview. Maybe it's important. Or maybe I should blow it off and wander the city for a bit. Find some shops, visit some people. Maybe indulge in some carnality, I just lost a brother, shouldn't I be drinking and whoring our of grief? Or something. It feels kind of forced and empty, but most things do. Who knows, if I do it right, it might not.

Behind me is the tomb-quiet form of my home, and well behind that is the dark shape of Becca's. Maybe I should turn back. Find my parents, find out what's going on. How they feel. Or go find Becca instead. Or just turn back even farther, march past the farms and fields until they turn to forest, get lost in the tall pines and my own thoughts and hope I can make it to Kellinsburgh in time. Or just not even bother. Gods, I don't know.

At my feet there's a little splash of yellow, some tiny squarish blossoms peeking out of the scrubbish grass. Whatever it is, it's blooming late, if thoroughly unimpressively. A part of me just wants to flop down right here and stare at it until whatever mental fog has me feeling so out-of-sorts and indecisive clears. It'd certainly involve a lot less walking than anything else.
#9
RE: The List
Steal a kelpie. Later avoid punishment by claiming grief for your brother hit a little too hard.

Otherwise, I'd go straight to church and have a chat to one of your seniors. Seek guidance. It's why you joined the church in the first place, right?
#10
RE: The List
Just start walking. Anywhere.