Wrath & Ruin

“I have no need to listen to a peasant! You have no authority here. Leave now or be removed.” I rose from behind my desk and walked to the door, clearly indicating that this meeting was over.

“You would do well to heed my warning.” The man stood and adjusted his rags.

“Your rambling has been noted.” I put as much unmistakable finality into my tone as I was able without my rage boiling over. What does this beggar know about the workings of the church? Who is he to judge me? I have spent years building up this church, and refuse to be told it was all for naught. Everything I did was for the adherents.

“Mark my words, you will be cut down if you cannot cleanse this church of corruption.” The old man moved with painful slowness as he gathered his walking stick from its place by the door and left.

I shut the door and returned to my desk. I sat heavily in my chair, a heavily carved and plush chair nearly 600 years old. I leaned forward and tapped a clear crystal at the edge of my desk. It floated a few inches above its stand.

“Sir?” The disembodied voice of my assistant Jaysin resonated through the crystal.

“That meeting was a disaster. Make sure to screen my appointments more thoroughly from now on. I do not have time for loons and beggars.”

“I do apologize, sir, I will be more careful in the future.” The young adherent responded sounding appropriately repentant if confused. I tapped the crystal again and it settled into its stand. Something told me that the old man had to have a reason to be so troublesome, why else would he work his way through the tangle of bureaucracy to even merit talking to Jaysin, let alone me. One does not simply walk into the highest office of the church. Or maybe he did. I tapped the crystal again.

“Sir?”

“Do you have a name for my last appointment?”

“No sir, I thought he was your guest. You do not have any appointments today.”

“You did not let him into my office?”

“No, sir.”

“Jaysin, I want you to find that old beggar. Send the guard out to search. I want him back here as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Sir. Right away.” This time Jaysin cut the connection. I watched the crystal settle into its cradle yet again.

“Who are you?” I wondered aloud to my empty office.

***

One Week Later

***

“Sir, the Captain of the Temple Guard is here to see you.”

“Let him in.” I ended the communication and rose, smoothing my robes as the door opened to admit a tall, stern-looking man in his mid-forties. I never liked him much, but he did his job well.

“Ah, any news of the search, Captain?”

“Unfortunately not, your Holiness. We have spent the last week searching for this beggar, to no avail.” He gave his report standing to attention. I stifled a chuckle. Once a military man, always a military man.

“You searched the city and the desert towns?” I knew the answer of course. The captain was nothing if not thorough.

“Of course. We searched every town within two days’ ride.”

“Thank you, Captain.” I sighed. “Any other report?”

“No, your Grace.”

“Dismissed.” He nodded smartly before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

I leaned against my desk as the door shut. Infinitely frustrated. This was just an old beggar that could barely walk. How far could he have gotten? I commanded the largest military force in the region and still could not find him. With a roar, a small marble statue shattered against a wall.

***

Two Months Later

***

I rode through the city, comfortably nestled on a stack of silk pillows inside the palanquin. It was a garishly appointed vehicle, gilded, oversized, and carried by a dozen of the strongest acolytes. I stared through the sheer curtain walls at the lowest of humanity as we passed, all were kneeling prostrate, as was the law. I was on my way to consecrate a new abbey just outside the city. We called it an abbey, but it was more of a military fort in function. As the highest office in the church, the task fell to me. A boring task to be sure, but necessary. I shifted my gaze forward as the acolytes slowly hobbled forward, my attention drawn by some commotion up ahead. A small group of three or four people had not bowed. They had the look of outsiders or foreigners judging by their dress and were looking about at the local citizens in confusion. Drawing nearer, I saw a pair of doctrine guard step from the shadows behind the standing group. Without word or warning, they struck two of the bystanders behind the knees with the butts of their spears causing them to fall to the ground. One of the pair that remained standing wheeled around and tried to fight the guards. He received a solid hit to the head for his trouble. The guards then laid into the man, brutally beating him with their fists, boots, and spears.

“Halt!” I called as the palanquin drew level with the scuffle. The acolytes stopped in place, but the guard paid no mind. I drew back the curtain that hung between myself and the world. “What is the meaning of this?” I called.

The pair of doctrine guards ceased their beating of the traveler and turned, immediately taking a knee and bowing their heads.

“These outsiders refused to kneel, and this one tried to strike the lord’s servants, your Holiness.” one of them called.

“And you felt the need to beat him half to death for attempting to defend his friends?”

“It is the against the Law of Doctrine not to kneel.”

“As I recall, allowances are made for heathens,” I stated, testing their knowledge.

“Yes, your Holiness. The Law of Doctrine allows for a fine rather than a beating in cases of ignorance.” the guard replied.

“If I may add though,” the other guard finally spoke, “that allowance is at the discretion of the particular member of the doctrine guard.”

“That is correct. Arrest the man and his companions. Exact your payment, such as it may be, in private. If they refuse or cannot pay for their crimes, send them to the camps. We do not need to make a public scene.”

“Yes, your Holiness.” the pair answered in unison.

I dropped the curtain back into place and with a word, my acolytes were on the move again. I urged them to move faster. This mess had made me late.

The next morning, my duty to the abbey carried out, I once again climbed aboard the palanquin and waited impatiently as it wobbled into the air. It was not the most comfortable or timely way to travel, and I would have much preferred a portal or even a horse, but someone in my position was expected to be lazy and travel in style. Why make any effort at all when others would do it for you? I hated relying on others to do things, but the most powerful man in the city walking through the slums would send the wrong impression.

The procession made slow progress back to the temple, as the streets were abnormally crowded. It was the first morning of Bhaagras, the annual festival celebrating the harvest. The law requiring citizens to bow was suspended, and people lined the streets, cooking various meats and pastries on small grills as was customary. These bits of food were then traded for other bits of food or mugs of strong drink. Here and there, instruments appeared and dancing would fill the streets, often growing lewd as more drink led to less clothing. I knew that by the third and final night, grilled meats and ale would turn to hallucinogenics and public orgies. It was a vile practice, and adherents of Doctrine were forbidden to partake in the festivities, a rule which was rarely enforced, due to the excessive amounts of money that stood to be gained by the church in bribes. The more carnal festivities were also a boon to the healers, as they had ways of preventing unwanted consequences from the revelry, and those remedies happened to be particularly expensive.Nearer the temple, the palanquin made slow and wobbly progress through a large square. A circle of people sat near the fountain at the plaza’s center, drumming away on a series of wooden instruments. A girl danced seductively to the rhythmic cadence, flowing from pose to pose with her eyes shut. The dress she wore was sheer and flowed with her movement like water in a breeze. The palanquin stopped to clear a path as I watched her movements. She was quite lovely, having grown into womanhood recently.

“Jaysin?” I pulled back the curtain and summoned my assistant.

“Yes, your holiness?” he said drawing level with the procession.

“Bring her.”

“The dancer, Lord?” Jaysin asked, following my gaze.

“The same. The church has need of her.”

“It shall be done, your holiness.” Jaysin dipped his head and turned away.I dropped the curtain back into place as the palanquin lurched forward again.

Several hours later, in my apartment, I poured myself a drink before replacing the stopper in the decanter. I took a sip and, returning to my desk, was diverted by a knock on the door.

“Enter,” I called, looking to the heavy wooden doors. No one entered. Annoyed by the lack of obedience, I walked to the door and opened it.There was no one there. I looked up and down the breezeway outside the doors, and even over the edge of the promenade into the gardens below. There was no one around. I turned back to my door and saw a parchment nailed to the door. It had a single phrase scrawled across it, the ink still wet.

“You were warned.”

I stepped back into my apartment and shut the door, examining the parchment from every possible angle. No other marks. As I studied the mysterious note, another knock came at this door. I jumped, startled out of my concentration, and grabbed a dagger from my desk before answering.

“Enter,” I called.The door slid open silently, revealing Jaysin.

“Is something wrong, your grace?” he asked, eyeing the dagger in my hand. I glanced at the weapon and laid it back on the desk.

“Just a little jumpy,” I replied.

“Of course. I have brought the girl, as you requested.” He entered the room fully, followed by the dancer I had seen earlier. She kept her eyes pointed firmly at the floor, her posture confident, but her face suggested nervousness or fear.

“Excellent. Leave us.” I said, eagerly taking in her form through the sheer fabric. “Oh, and, Jaysin?” He paused at the door, “Post a guard.”

“Yes, sir,” he said and shut the door behind him.

The girl remained where she stood, making no effort to move or speak. I poured another drink and offered it to her. She took it but did not drink it.

“What is your name, girl?” I said gently.

“Havilla, your Holiness.” her voice was soft and musical.

“You are quite the dancer, Havilla.” I sipped my drink.

“Thank you.”

“Are you afraid of me?” I sat.

“I am afraid of no man, least of all you,” she answered, finally looking up. Her eyes were a deep blue-gray and held a piercing quality. They were striking, particularly in a city full of brown eyes.

“That is an odd answer.” I mused, “Tell me then, what are you afraid of? I have a strong dislike of snakes, personally.”

“I fear the selfish actions of those with power.” She straightened and met my eyes, defiance burning in her gaze.

“That makes two of us then. Selfishness and power combined create vile men.”Havilla seemed surprised by my statement, confusion crossing her face for a split second before she was able to bring her expression under control.

“What is it you want from me, your Holiness?” She asked.I gestured at the cart standing near the wall. It was covered in rich foods and decanters of drink.

“I wish to celebrate Bhagraas, same as you. Power can be so lonely, would you celebrate with me?” I said.

“Yes, your Holiness.” Havilla flashed a sinister smile and downed the drink I had given her in one go. “Will any others be joining us?”

“Only if you wish them to.” I smiled and downed my own glass of spirit.

Three days later, I pulled myself from a drunken, drug-fueled stupor and climbed over the dozen or so unconscious people scattered about my apartments. Each of them was to some degree intertwined with one another, and all of them were in various states of undress.I moved to the attached washroom and opened the valves. Heated water flowed through a grate in the ceiling and the ensuing cloud of steam helped to clear my head. One of the benefits of being the most powerful person in the world was having comforts that few others possessed. I closed the rooms as I left, nodding at the guards posted outside.

“Arrest everyone inside,” I stated and left without a second glance.

***

Four Months Later

***

No one truly believed anymore. That was obvious from the reactions of the people currently trying to capture or harm the beast that had manifested in the heart of the temple. Temple guards and clergy alike swarmed through the nave like ants waving poleaxes and spears. A few of the higher ranking clergy used their spells, to even less effect. The effort to defend the temple was brave but pointless. The church had lost its way over the centuries, turning into a writhing mass of heresy, greed, and lust for power. I alone had stayed true to the doctrine. I had followed every ritual to the letter, and I had been rewarded. It had taken thousands of years, countless vessels, and innumerable lifetimes to reach the very pinnacle of the church, but I had risen, and I alone calmly faced the manifestation of my god. The god that it seemed the ants had forgotten they worshiped.

My orders to bow, rather than attack had been unheeded by the throng of lesser adherents. Most likely because they had forgotten the most basic tenets of doctrine, that our god was infinitely changeable, taking whatever shape was most advantageous. Depictions were forbidden, but most imagined god as a mighty warrior. The creature before me was most definitely not that, taking the form of a massive white dragon, but I knew without a doubt who I witnessed.

The beast opened his maw, and the back of his throat glowed with holy fire. Now my God would judge the unfaithful masses, those driven by pride and lust for power. Now I would finally be rewarded for my devotion. I deserve no less. My piety and years of service would be recognized. I locked eyes with the beast. The fire in his throat grew brighter.

No. No, this wasn’t right.

YOU WERE WARNED, ZEALOT

The voice rumbled through my head like a rock slide.

No.

TYRANT

No. This isn’t right. I have been faithful!

YOU HAVE FAILED.

The voice of my god burned through my brain for the last time, just as my vision filled with orange light, the world erupted into pain, and everything went black.