Slumrat Rising

Etenesh eventually fell quiet, just curling up on herself. Jember sat next to his cousin, hip to hip, and put a comforting arm around her. Truth just sat there, feeling useless. It was Merkovah who managed to pull them out of their solitary silences.

“When I was younger, the land of Siphios was alive. I mean that in a way you youngsters probably don’t understand- I mean that God had imbued every pebble, every blade of grass, every gust of wind, with meaning. With the potential of undergoing its own spiritual journey or simply finding purpose in eternity as a rock. As a twist of air. A drop of water passing through its transformations.”

He sighed.

“Then Starbrite and his demon came to this world. It was both insidious and fast. We didn’t understand what we were dealing with. At all. We thought it was just another gangster, another powerful man looking to create a pocket world for their pleasure and benefit. Well. We weren’t wrong about that, at least. But I was there, and I can tell you that we truly didn’t understand. We weren’t up against a man. We were up against a system. A philosophy polished and refined to a glassy perfection. Slavery built on the illusion of prosperity. By the time we saw it, it was too late for people to listen. By the time we fought back…”

He looked up to the stars.

“By the time we fought back, God had turned his face away from us. He didn’t even bother to let us know. He just left. The covenant is broken. Now, Siphios merely echoes with the sound of past glory. Each echo fades as it bounces again and again. The streams no longer laugh with the children splashing in them. The air no longer whispers its mysteries to the wise. The people are lost among the throng groveling before God’s chariot, hoping that once more, he might glance our way.”

Merkovah’s eyes never moved from the heavens. Looking for what only he knew. “Starbrite didn’t just rob our elixirs, ores, or other precious things. He didn’t just steal our time or our dreams. He stole us from God. He stole us from God, and now God doesn’t even want us back. We tried, you know. We tried often. But God doesn’t want us back. So we must grow up. And fight on. For ourselves and each other.

Truth just listened. He had never felt the eyes of God upon him.

“We cannot go back to how things were. We were children raised under the hand of a benevolent and loving father. Now we have to solve our own problems. Still revering him that gave us life and wisdom. Still fearing his awesome wrath. But remembering that he is not watching over us. We must remember his teachings and pursue virtue and morality as he showed us. It is up to us to be moral and to do the right things. He cannot make us good nor forgive our sins. He cannot lead us to victory. Not anymore.”

They spent the night in the temple, in the rooms set aside for pilgrims. It was a long time before anyone slept.

Truth woke up before dawn. The holy folk- Monks? Priests? Teachers? He didn’t know what they were called, but they were up and cleaning. Some were mopping the temple, some wiping the windows. It wasn’t a large place, so the few old men didn’t find it much trouble. Truth nodded to them silently and found an empty patch of dirt by the front of the temple.

He hadn’t cultivated last night. He would do it now.

Truth let his body move and flow through the old patterns. They felt a little different this morning. He wasn’t just exercising and letting the energy flow. He was showing his respect. He was showing his dignity. The watchers above the sky might not know or care, but he knew. He cared. So he moved and cultivated, imbuing each act with meaning. I respect you. I am thankful for you. I revere you. But this power is mine now. I will take it and do what I will. And while it might not be good enough for you (he felt something stirring in him at that thought,) it certainly will be good enough for me.

Breathe, flow, move. Let the energy fill him up, spill from aperture to aperture, letting the overflow flood his body. He had been worried that he was turning into some kind of monster. That worry… no longer existed. Despite what the rough man said, he might not be The God, but he certainly was A God. At least to Truth.

He would embrace his own strength. He would not fear his instinct to fight. Though he would try to remember that fighting should be his last choice. He would dig into the legacies and fate tied to his body. Whatever they were. They could become his strength. Strong enough not to need a gang. Strong enough not to need a God.

He finished the routine, his breath leaving like a long arrow. System. Status sheet.

Status Sheet is unavailable at this time. Processing.

You what? Truth asked, quite reasonably.

Processing, you cursed prick. As in, I’m trying to figure it out myself. Look, do as much… stuff as you can today. Run, cast spells, whatever. I need more data to sort out what all this is. Use Incisive a lot. All the time, actually. Have people attack you while you defend with your sword. For once, I’m not just looking to watch you get tortured.

Well. That… might be ominous? Actually, it might be a good thing. Nothing to be done right now, though. Truth shrugged and turned around to find he had an audience. Jember sat on the steps of the temple and gave Truth a wan smile.

“I didn’t want to interrupt. Do you do that every morning?”

“Evenings, actually, and mostly in my room. Still, there is something I like about doing it under the sky.” Truth thought about it and smiled slightly. “I will probably do it exclusively outside, now, if I can.”

“It seems you had a good experience.”

“In some ways. I also nearly went crazy, so,” Truth waved, “not all perfect.”

“Hah. Well. That’s why I studied Apocalypticism at Uni. I trained for just that kind of thing.”

“Really? I had no idea that was something you could train for. Seemed like a… I don’t know. Some kind of unique religious experience.”

“In a little out-of-the-way Temple like this? Hardly. Not common, mind you. But at least in Siphios, it’s not unheard of. With an expert like Merkovah overseeing things, we were safe enough.”

“So… it’s something I could do again?”

Jember wiggled his hand. “Yes, but not for a long while. Your nous, which is a technical term for that point where your mind and soul interconnect, took some strain last night. Not damage, but strain. It needs to get back into shape. Also, I suspect you have a lot to digest. I could tell your gains weren’t small.”

“You were literally glowing for a moment there.” Truth gave Jember a little smile. Jember smiled back, a bit of his usual sun shining through. Then dimming.

“Could you check on Etenesh? I think she would rather see you than me right now.”

“I will, but… why?”

“We are very close because, out of all our generation of cousins, we were the most devout. And we come from a very religious family. You may not be able to tell, but… well, by the standards of Siphios, we are very… restrained. Very strict in our conduct. For me, it was because I enjoyed the wonders of theology. I embraced the faith because it was all so marvelous, you see? But for Etenseh, it was more,” he spun his hand, “more like getting along with another part of the family. Like things had to be done a certain way, or Grandpa would throw a fit, and Grandma would never speak to you again.”

“Ok?”

Jember sighed, looking as frustrated as Truth had ever seen him. “Do you remember how she had her hands last night? Palms pressed over her eyes?”

Truth nodded.

“It’s the Sign of the Faithful. We see no deception that would lead us to sin. We hear no temptation that would cause us to forget our duty to god. We speak no slander that would disgrace God or ourselves. Better that we have no eyes, no ears, no tongue than we do otherwise.” Jember couldn’t help sounding bitter.

“She wished she hadn’t seen.”

“Putting it very mildly.”

“So why does she want to see me?”

“Because she wants you. She likes you, and she desires you. You would be more comfort to her now than I would.”

Truth started waving him away. Denying that she might want him. Or like him. Certainly, he liked her and hoped they could become friends, and he certainly dreamed of being more than friends, but she was beautiful and smart and went to university, and he was a slumrat. He knew his place.

The coarse man grinned at him from his memories. And Truth could swear he smelled a whiff of tobacco. Yeah. His place. Just another slumrat.

Like fuck he was!

“Hey, Jember? Don’t fuck with me on this. Are you sure she feels that way?”

Jember gave him an odd look. “You aren’t? She practically posted a public notice. What else do you want her to do? Get it notarized?”

Truth looked back up into the lightening blue sky and wondered which star was his rough patron.

_____________________________________

Truth went and sat with Etenesh for a while. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He just sat with her and held her hand. She cried once. He asked if he could hug her, and she nodded, and once again, he held her like she was made of spun sugar. She told him to hold her stronger than that. She might fly away. He did. She didn’t. Soon, Merkovah came and collected them. It was time to go to the Capital.

______________________________________

They played the water ball game on the road again. It was eight hours to the capital, and Hell, everyone was bored. Two hours in, they were sending storms of water at him as he dodged and twisted out of their way. The drivers they passed gave them looks, but a few people cheered in appreciation, watching Truth’s antics. He could keep the precognition going pretty steadily, and his accuracy was getting a lot better. He couldn’t wait to start practicing the cutting part. The image of Botis was seared into his memory.

It would have done his ego some good to hear what people were saying about him. Even Etenesh was smiling now and again. It seemed that watching a handsome man move like a snake on a speeding iron horse was enough to brighten her day.

They hit the exurbs and had to stop playing around. Boring houses, boring stores selling boring things in quantities that only interested the dull. Someone, somewhere, needed two hundred square meters of white ceramic floor tile. Truth did not. There was a lumber wholesaler. It seemed to be doing well. Huzzah. Merkovah appeared to be trying to speed up, but traffic was rapidly becoming a problem. They came to a full stop between a garage and a place that sold fishing supplies to hobbyists.

“How, exactly, did I go from contemplating the mysteries of the heavens to wondering if I can afford a full teardown of my two-wheeler in less than twenty-four hours?” Truth muttered to himself. Odd or not, his faithful steed needed the service. It had put in the work. Not like the stars or those great stellar beings. They didn’t work at it. They just were, and that was enough. Truth flexed his hand. He had to work at it. But that was ok. He didn’t mind working hard. He just needed some maintenance now and then.

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