Slumrat Rising

Truth allowed his inner vision to float up into his soul. Everyone knew that the body and soul were connected and that mind and apertures touched both. Being able to see your soul was just one of those side effects of cultivation. Do it enough, and it happens. Even old-timers at Level One could do it.

A Level Three who had the benefit of a Stellar Dowsing ritual at a comparatively young age? He could absolutely do it. There just wasn’t much to see. Not to sneer at the mysteries of the soul or anything, but if there were grand transformations happening there, he was too much of a rookie to spot it. Generally, he didn’t bother poking around.

That may have been a mistake.

Following the sound of furious chanting, Truth’s mind drifted up through his soul. There may have been a starry universe within, but it also had bounds. Pressing up against the edge of it, he could see them.

Nine glowing worms, yes, worms, but also dragons. World serpents. Void eaters. What name could bear to define such immensity? Serpent-like, yet pliable, yet unyielding, soft cruelty made real. Far, far too real. Some terrible creator had given them faces and mouths like the maws of entire prides of lions were pressed together into one circular mouth, their leonine features still present, still a reminder of their murderous origin. Most terrible of all, they were holy.

He kept tripping over that thought, again and again- they were holy. The worms were holy, the glow a divine light. They were the “realest” things he ever saw. The worms were holy, and they were outraged. They were absolutely furious. At him. At the sin of his existence. Something utterly fundamental about his existence was worthy of the most severe punishment.

His mind couldn’t stand the pressure and crashed back into his body. He fell sideways out of the chair, landing harmlessly on the floor. It would have given a Level Zero a concussion, a fall like that. Raised a lump on a Level One. He hardly felt it, just a harmless sensation, not pain. Because of the endless body refinement. Refinement done by… the worms.

While you were… dead… the worms turned up in your body and started making microscopic changes and repairs to you. I was able, with a lot of experimentation, to get them to make use of little chunks of the Meditations of Valentinian. In retrospect, they seemed kind of picky about what they would use. It sped things up a lot, but even by themselves, they would have rebuilt you. Whatever they are, they don’t want you dead.

Why? Why would my Rough Patron create such a thing? Did he create such a thing? If he didn’t create them, why send them out as part of his legacy?

The System was silent. Truth lay on the floor for a long time, trying to come to terms with what he had experienced. It didn’t really go anywhere productive. Eventually, he uncurled, tidied himself, and went to the double room. The horny had been firmly banished from his mind, but grabbing ahold of Etenesh and hanging on tight sounded very, very good.

Etenesh was there already, waiting in her pajamas. Her eyes were almost solid ocher. His plans would have to change.

____________________________________________

It was a rather bemused-looking Truth that walked into Merkovah’s little office/cell the next morning.

“There’s the look of a man who rid himself of his virginity.” Merkovah grinned.

“No, honestly, I’m not ready. It was an educational night in other ways. I have even more questions today than I did yesterday. I think Etenesh suspects.”

“You say it like it’s a crime. And so what if she does? Tell her. She’s already having a ball with whatever you are doing together. I bet she’d enjoy training you up even more.”

Truth considered that. The System had told him more or less the same thing, and clearly, nobody in Siphios gave a damn, but it was still embarrassing. He knew he had to just get over himself, but… he didn’t want to look like a fool in front of Etenesh. Merkovah was grinning at him. Truth squinted.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you.”

“Immensely.” The grin emerged like a badger through the thickets of Merkovah’s beard.

“Watching your students love life.”

“Mr. Wells, It might shock you to know that I was a terrible romantic in my youth.”

“Women love a beard?”

“Some do! I wore it shorter in those days. Marriage changes a man.” Merkovah’s eyes had gone misty with nostalgia, but he managed to shake it off.

“Anyhow. I have a paying job for you. On top of the job I am already paying you for.”

Truth perked up. “Paying Job” was a phrase that had never lost its charm.

“The working group the University put together was more effective than expected. This was not the first time talismans of this type have been recovered, so there was a lot of information scattered around. Nobody had properly compiled it all until now, let alone under the supervision of the intelligence services and the police.”

Truth waited somewhat patiently for the point to arrive. The humor evaporated from Merkovah.

“Have you ever heard of Anti-Theists?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I understand the term.”

“We aren’t really sure what they call themselves, this generation. It’s an ancient and particularly pernicious lie. Don’t bother trying to understand their evil ideology. You will only contaminate your mind.” Merkovah gathered himself. “The very short version is that there is really two universes, one material and one made purely of thought and spirit. We are trapped in the material universe, a universe that was never supposed to have existed. Our spiritual self, our divine spark, was always supposed to be part of that divine, spiritual universe.”

“Ok, so… why are we in this universe?”

Merkovah snorted. “Because there are two gods, obviously. One, an evil, incompetent boob that made the material universe, the other the perfect divinity of the spiritual universe. Our divine sparks are trapped by the evil one, and therefore, “It is every prisoner’s duty to escape.” Which they do by committing the most depraved of atrocities. Trying to force their way through the bars of reality.”

Shame. They sounded like they were on to something, but they lost him at the final step.

“They are periodically purged, of course, but like cancer, they keep coming back. The superficial details change and specific doctrinal conceits shift around, but it ultimately comes back to the same nonsense. God is evil. The universe is a trap. We must escape the physical and return to the purely spiritual.”

Truth sat with that a moment, digesting it.

“The fact that we can see our soul?”

“We see it tied to our bodies, trapped in the prison of the “real.”

“Spirits?”

“Illusions, or some other creation of the material universe, that our degraded souls cannot differentiate from true spiritual existence. Incidentally, while the exact nature of angels and demons is in dispute amongst the apostates, it’s much the same thing. They are all servants, one way or another, of the evil god.”

Truth nodded slightly.

“What’s this all have to do with me and getting paid?”

Merkovah winced and pressed his fingers to his temples. “Mr. Well… Mr. Medici, do you fully understand the enormity of the crime these anti-theists represent? The sheer, calculated monstrosity, perversity, of their ideology? It is a mess of palatable half truths and false dichotomies designed to lead astray the spiritually weak and theologically ignorant. It is, perhaps, the purist distillation of evil I know of.”

Truth nodded. Then waited. The silence continued.

“Mr. Medici?”

“Oh, I thought it was one of those questions where you didn’t actually want an answer. No, I really don’t understand what’s so terrible about their ideology, but if they’re the bunch that killed all those people in the apartment building, and they sent the crow headed smuggler that tried to kill me-”

“And called you a fuckboy, which seems a much more accurate description these days,” said Merkovah, with the look of one who has completely given up.

“And called me a fuckboy which is still outright slander,”

“Have to prove damages for it to be slander under the law. It was clearly a mere insult.”

“THEN they should probably be permanently dealt with. Which… you want me to do? Why? You can just call the cops. Hell, you can send literal armies of angels and demons after them.”

Merkovah’s shrugged. “That was Plan A and Plan B respectively. Still is, sort of. Here’s the thing though. In addition to transmitting their ideology, these pricks pass down technology. In their insane quest to “liberate” our souls from their physical prison, they have gotten very good at disrupting the material bodies of spiritual entities. They have also developed a particularly nasty form of anti-magic, which they tend to deploy liberally.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“You are working on magic resistance- being so much more real than the things thrown at you that they only affect you to the degree you permit. Anti-theists view this approach as fundamentally wrong. Rather than becoming more real, you are becoming more like the false god and, therefore, more bound to the physical, false universe. Wards work by either forcibly resisting spellforms or by redirecting the cosmic energy generated by magic or a talisman.”

Merkovah looked grim. “The Anti-Theists disperse cosmic rays. Essentially make the warded areas vacuums for the very stuff of magic.”

Truth quickly connected this tidbit with Merkovah’s plans for the System Astrologica. “Ah. You want it recovered, not destroyed.”

“I want it destroyed, but I want the first look at it, and I want to see if there is something there we can use. I also want to know what that murderous apostate trash are doing in my damn country!”

Truth nodded again. This was the sort of logic he could understand. Another, more personal, thought intruded. “Apostate. Tefen?”

“Why yes, Mr. Medici, that would be an appropriate use of the word. In fact, etymologically speaking, it’s derived from a word referring to anti-theists generally.” Merkovah managed a grim smile. “You can understand now a little better why Etenesh and Jember were so utterly furious, and for that matter, why I was too.”

“They seemed calm enough.”

“Don’t kid yourself. They were holding it together to make sure you held it together. There is currently a massive debate amongst the Faculty about restoring the ban on swords in the Well. You left quite an impression. “Ready to wash away insult with blood,” one fella said. Nice turn of phrase, I thought.”

Truth nodded. It was quite true, after all. “And you aren’t walking in there and slapping everyone to death with the raw strength of your body because?”

“Because here in Xandre, where a cabal of these anti-theists has been discovered, I am surveilled by far too many eyes. You too, of course, but to an infinitely lesser extent. You would be much more able to acquire the technology and get away with it than I would.”

Didn’t entirely trust that but… ok for now.

“How much does the op pay?”

“We bill it as a recon/covert raid, undertaken by… certain agencies you don’t need to know about. Use it as political leverage to get you access to those national treasures I mentioned; boost your level.” Merkovah looked satisfied.

“Absolutely not. I decline.” Truth stood and swiftly moved for the door.

“Pardon?!”

“My fee will be the operational supplies needed to do another job for you? No. Absolutely not. Cash is good, and elixirs are better, but I am not going to be scammed out of my fee.” Truth was almost flashing back to some contract negotiations he was involved with at the PMC. Sergeant Murthey might not have been the most enlightened soul, but he represented a vast, cataloged, and indexed library of employer tricks and treachery. Truth had been a diligent student.

“Young man, are you somehow unclear on the phrase “National Treasure?” These are not things I can simply gift on a whim, and the political consequences-”

“Are absolutely not my problem.” Truth interrupted. “A bargain has been struck. If you want to renegotiate, we can talk about it, but I will tell you now- my fee will only be higher, with more to be paid in advance. If you want to hire me for a second job, you will have to pay for that separately.”

Merkovah stared at him, wonderingly. “Where has the young man gone who just said “OK” to everything?”

“He’s still here. Along with the kid who learned you never, ever, not for any reason or for anyone, work for free.”

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