⸂The last type,⸃ Emilia said as they walked, and she fiddled with the {Blood Marble}, rolling it between her fingers and trusting Hyr’s arm to shoot out and catch it if she fumbled, ⸂are the people who like the way the world has changed. They enjoy bringing bits of other cultures into their lives. I suppose there are two subtypes: those who want to continue changing, and those who like the current changes, but would rather stop.⸃ Her lips quirked as she shot off a collection of examples of Baalphorians and Free Colonies exchanging customs long before the war, moments of peace or conquest leading to an adoption of beliefs they would previously have called uncivilized, the creations of heathens and mongrels. ⸂People like to think we only started adopting customs during the war, but it was happening long before that. I think some people just like being mad about change, as though the world doesn’t change every day.⸃
“The world cannot stop changing,” Hyr agreed, side eyeing Zyrex, who had once more fallen into silent contemplation. “I would agree. Most of our people fall into these categories. The middle is most common, but some push for a return to the old ways.” They frowned, telling Emilia the byren and pyr in particular were especially pushy.
⸂Really? The pyr? I would have thought the keepers of knowledge more open to adopting change, even if minimal.⸃ Usually, teachers and librarians—although the pyr weren’t quite librarians nor even oral historians—were more open to change, having been subjected to a lifetime of learning. She supposed that just because someone knows things, it didn’t mean they understood or accepted that knowledge.
Lips pressed tight, like they were suppressing a smile, Hyr told her there was a theory that the pyr just didn’t want to memorize more stories or facts.
“That’s rude,” Zyrex said, his tone implying that something about being the hy meant he had to defend the pyr. When she asked, he agreed that was the case. “They’re kinda touchy? They don’t like questions or contradictions. Sometimes, outsiders come and share contrary knowledge, stories of the same events as our stories, with different information. The pyr do not take it well, and…” He trailed off, looking like he actually wanted to let go, reveal a little about a terrible part of his role as hy.
Emilia liked gossip, and after offing a handful of Clarity members they stumbled across, the blood coagulating into another {Blood Dagger} that Zyrex greedily snatched up and tucked into the other side of his pants, she sidled up to him.
She smiled, blinked coyly at him. He looked extremely uncomfortable. Hyr politely turned away, their shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
⸂So~ what happens when someone disagrees with the pyr?⸃
The young man swallowed, tensed when she slipped her arm into his, pressed herself a little further into him. Evidently, whatever caused northerners to begin to see sex as something simply for making babies, it either hadn’t quite settled with Zyrex yet, or he had yet to even learn what it was.
“The hy are expected to declare their words as law, the others as blasphemy. The offending party is expected to agree. If they do not… exile is the best they can hope for.”
⸂Even if there’s proof?⸃ Emilia asked, unsure what to think about the hy being expected to exile or kill people for bringing information the pyr didn’t agree with into the north.
“Even if it’s over something silly,” Hyr grumbled. Obviously, they had experience with this unfortunate phenomenon as well, and while they didn’t offer any examples, it was clear they had some.
“The pyr… do not like being questioned.”
⸂Hm… so, how does Eruzia deal with that? I imagine she must have some stories from the Nur'sa that contradict Nur’tha stories.”
Norvel and the Northern Tribes had shared a border for millennia, and had a long history of war. Even during their war against monsters—when the last war between the two Free Colonies had been several generations prior—tension between the soldiers from both had been difficult to navigate. There had been a few fist fights, one death that may or may not have been murder—but had definitely been deserved, if it was—and a lot of pranks.
“You sound as though you are in Eruzia-lutya’s acquaintance?” Hyr asked in their odd, lilting Baalphorian. Emilia supposed she should be grateful that the syn was putting her first, wondering if they’d continue to do so, should her name come up once they were back in the real world, the northerner returning to Brylish and its hierarchical grammar rules.
⸂We’ve met,⸃ Emilia admitted, wondering how much to tell the pair of northerners. The fact that they didn’t know about her own acquaintanceship with Eruzia meant Hetexia probably hadn’t mentioned it either. That alone was weird—the two women had definitely disliked each other during the war, but to completely deny their knowledge of one another?
Seriously, what had happened?
A bubble of resentment for her past self—for the trauma she had let encompass her life and for the asshole who had spit cracking hatred at her—rising up her throat and threatening to burst into the world. She swallowed it down. Those feelings had no place here, no proper outlet. These young men certainly didn’t deserve to either have her take out her frustration on them, or for her rant about it.
⸂I haven’t seen her in a long time. The last time I was in Norvel—although that was years ago—I was told she was travelling, visiting a war comrade.⸃ Mostly, they’d been told that so she and Helix would stop glaring around, waiting for the woman to pop out and annoy them. No one in their unit had liked the Norvel noble much, not even her prince. ⸂I wasn’t aware she had ended up in Nur’tha.⸃
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“We have only had her for a few years. She gives supplementary lessons on the Nur’sa.” Lips quirking into their soft smile, Hyr admitted that the pyr did not like her much. “I believe they have come to some understanding. As long as she does not claim one story as truth, she is allowed to continue teaching.”
“Yeah,” Zyrex agreed, poking his head around a corner and surging out to snap a few necks. “Eruzia-lutya has to be cautious with her words, she’s good at it, though! Eruzia-lutya never speaks badly about anyone because—”
“All beliefs are valid~” Hyr recited, a note of annoyance entering their voice. “Emilia did not already cover that those beliefs are too wide?”
Once more, the pair devolved into an argument, their words fading back into Brylish. Their voices rose, and across her map, a collection of Clarity members—at least, she assumed they were Clarity members—started heading their way. As they’d travelled, it was about 50-50 whether the locals they came across had the ability to hear visitors or not, so for the most part, they hadn’t bothered suppressing their voices. Occasionally, someone would hear them and come their way, but given they were trying to kill off Clarity members, it wasn’t that much of a burden.
It would just be really helpful if they could question someone on where Ajarni was, was the thing. Unfortunately, by the time Clarity members reached them, they were always taken by the hive mind, and while Hyr could read a bit off their energy, it wasn’t enough to warrant trying to keep anyone alive, not after their first few attempts at questioning them had failed, anyways.
Behind her, the hy and syn continued to argue, and Emilia felt bad for them, and more than a little concerned for Zyrex. For a period of time, it had felt like her words—her terrible example of the horrors people of their world were capable of—had reached him, had managed to at least soften his belief in this terrible teaching of unending tolerance.
Evidently not. While it could be that he needed more time to think on it, Emilia had seen this sort of vehement belief before—it was, in the end, the same sort of wholehearted belief that the people of Chinsata themselves held against silverstrains, along with a few other irregular deviations. It was difficult—if not impossible—to break. Hopefully, the fact that he hadn’t grown up surrounded by such beliefs was enough to make the young hy more malleable on this point, and as she moved through the halls, pulling out her now-well used {Blood Sword}, Emilia contemplated how to get through to the boy, as well as what Eruzia was doing and how far-reaching her teachings were.
Sword sliding through the stomach of a Clarity member and pressing through the jaw of another, Emilia rolled what she knew around in her head. Hyr didn’t believe what Eruzia was spinning—another slash, another death—so either her teachings weren’t affecting everyone, or not everyone was receiving them. Still, Hyr had clearly heard their friend talk about her views before. Still, even with Zyrex’s own belief behind his words, Hyr hadn’t come to believe them.
Dropping out of the path of a magic shadow, Emilia surged forward, spinning and letting her sword slice through several bodies. In a normal battle, with regular people, they probably wouldn’t have gotten up. The hive mind didn’t seem to care for pain, however, and until they were good and dead, they’d continue trying to get up. As such, Emilia stabbed a few in the heart, decapitated a few more, each little dot on her map turning black.
Awesome. Only an unknown number of Clarity members left!
Out of all the things the visitor system could have done, giving her a mission to [Kill All Clarity Members!] and a count of how many were remaining would have been seriously helpful. Instead, what she got was a notification popping up that she’d earned ten more tokens for reaching another step goal.
Honestly, seeing how many steps she’d taken in this world was just getting depressing. The stair count was worse, though, and as she shooed the dialog away, Emilia refused to retain how many steps she’d taken. It was too many, and the raid wasn’t even done, even if it was quickly coming to an end, and they still had no idea of where Ajarni was.
For all they knew, he might not even be around anymore. In that case, the Risen Guard would be left killing off as many Clarity members as they could, hoping to erase his cult from the world. That wouldn’t stop him from creating another cult, though—from him and his descendants forming a whole new group over the next hundred years, something better than this failure.
Something niggled in the back of Emilia’s brain—some bit of forgotten information that she couldn’t quite dig up. Just like so many other moments of remembrance in this world, without the aid of her Censor, it faded away and all she was left with was the sense that she was missing something.
⸂Do you all attend lessons with Eruzia?⸃ she asked as her companions caught up with her, Hyr stepping fearlessly through the swirling magic while Zyrex waited on the edge of her carnage as the blood curse settled into another {Blood Marble}, as it had been doing any time she killed people without the other two present since Carne had given her the first. She slipped it into the little pouch that had formed on her {Blood Armour} to hold them. The now-four marbles clacked together as they returned to walking.
“Sometimes. They are not mandatory. She gives lectures. Most people attend one or two, or they attend them all.” Hyr’s eyes flicked to Zyrex in silent communication that he attended them all. The syn, clearly, hadn’t been a fan of Eruzia’s teaching from the start.
In other words, her teachings were the sort to alienate or call believers in. There was no in between.
Now, Emilia might be crazy, or just influenced by the whole… wandering through a building inhabited by cult members thing… but that certainly sounded a lot like Eruzia was starting a cult!
Concerning, to say the least. Still, the question was why? Despite their history of conflict, Norvel and Nur’tha actually had a lot in common, in terms of how their citizens behaved and what they believed. As much as the Dread Coliseum was something of a sore spot in many places, swathes of people viewing the practice of allowing death within its competitions as barbaric, the Northern Tribes weren’t one of them. Rather, despite their bad blood, northerners were regularly allowed to attend the Dread Coliseum, seeking glory.
Out of all the places where a Norvel noble might go, attempting to sway people into letting Norvel have its traditions, the Northern Tribes seemed a silly choice.
Something else, then? Some other reason?
Some terrible custom or belief, hidden within Norvel, that would cause Eruzia to forbid exceptions within this belief of tolerance she was filing away into the heads of impressionable children?
Four dots appeared on her map as she listened to Hyr and Zyrex discuss whether people should be required to attend more of Eruzia’s lectures—and honestly, the fact that Zyrex was all for making her lectures compulsory was worrying. The dots were… odd. They weren’t the normal red, for one, two a light purple, just as Conrad’s had once been, while the others were a slate grey and—
Another dot appeared, this one a colour Emilia recognized, and she was running, bolting through the twisting hallways while the northerners yelled at her and attracted the attention of not just the five dots she was racing towards, but the dozens of Clarity members scattered through the floor.
Zyrex really was a little too loud.