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10 - The Imposter Among Us

Nightfall had descended onto the world. The sky was shrouded in a majestic greenish light once again, only a star and moon puncturing its veil. And yet, as the green-tinted wagon rattled from the cobblestone road, there were still only crops both left and right.

A while ago, they’d passed by a meadow slowly enveloped by winter’s clutches, fauna turning dull and brown, flowers wilting while most wildlife had migrated or entered hibernation. However, this scene didn’t last very long, as they soon reentered farmland.

Deus speculated most of the area that was now-farmland was once similar meadows, but converted as the soil was fertile and it required less arduous deforestation measures. By the same conjecture, it was likely wilderness still prevailed in other biomes of this country.

Marial sat cross-legged at the feet of Misses Pinker, listening to her boisterous ramblings. In her arms, she strangled her brown stuffed rabbit.

“–He’d glance at me every couple of seconds. Although I was slightly anxious, his charm helped soothe my worries. Meanwhile, his father angrily glared at him — this would secure his ownership over a thousand acres of land.”

Monte raised his eyebrows, saying skeptically, “A thousand? That’s a lot, for sure.”

Misses Pink ignored him and continued, “And then, the priest asked him if he would take her as his wife. At this moment, all whispering from the crowd had stopped as they awaited his affirmation.”

Mariel chewed on her fingernails. “What? What did he say?”

Misses Pinker’s lips curled into a smile. “I remember it as if it were yesterday…”

“He turned towards the audience and said,” She cleared her throat to adjust her voice, deepening its pitch, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am honored by your presence. Ever since being exposed to the light of this world, your generosity towards me has seen no bounds. I thank you all for that.”

Mariel tightened her grip, the stuffed rabbit’s button eyes bulging.

“At this moment, his father was about to intervene, but he raised his voice and walked down the aisle, taking my hand.”

“However, it is not wealth which moves the heart. Today, I choose true love. At this moment, he kneeled in front of me, all he’d ever known at stake. And he asked me, Will you marry me?”

Just before the story was about to reach its climax, Monte interjected, “Are you sure? Especially when wealth is involved, wouldn’t there be legal repercussions? You’d have to consider the Prenuptial Marriage Act of–”

In response to ruining the suspense, Mariel almost ripped off the rabbit’s head. She turned and screamed, “Shuut up!”

Monte flinched, the fabric of the wagon cushioning his recoil.

Mariel turned back to Misses Pinker, who chuckled slightly. Sly as she was, she had already prepared a response, “Honey, you’re way too young — laws can change. Let me get back to the story…”

From thereon, Monte sat slouched, sullen in his seat. Deus had to admit that the lady’s bullshitting skills were on par with his. He took the opportunity to scoot over, patting his back in an effort to lift his spirits and deepen their bond. If one focused solely on his body’s age, he was at the right age to be his father.

“Say, when do you think we’ll escape this maze? It’s like this farmland will never end,” he asked as he lit a smoking pipe, offering it to him.

“Umm,” Monte perused as he accepted, “We’re already fairly close to the Duchy of Lilius. Because of his Grace, — or rather, excuse me in advance, but — his Idiocy, the Duke of Crowley’s arrangements, we should notice this very abruptly.”

He puffed and cleared his throat. “Sorry, I got carried away. I would guess it’ll take only a few more hours to reach the Duchy of Lilius, and around three days in total to reach the train station at minimum. We’ll see.”

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Deus raised his eyebrows. “What’s up with your reaction?”

“You don’t know?” asked Monte and yawned. “Well, before the Duchy of Crowley was turned into this sacrilegious monstrosity, its people respected nature’s laws. The faith in her Divinity, the Mother Goddess of Earth and Springs, was blossoming.

“When industrialization was first soaring, all duchies participated in a tacit competition, the outcome of which would decide the future of their families. However, the Duke of Crowley’s people were thinly spread, and decades of little investment in education painted a bleak picture for him.”

His expression contorted. “You know, my family was considered squatters, although we’ve lived here for generations. We’ve been farmers, supplying the local community. At times of crop failure, we’d revert to ‘Her’ gifts.”

Deus nodded and put on an expression of compassion.

Monte continued, “Well, the Duke of Crowley decided to resort to his greatest advantage — smooth and fertile soil. He hired mercenaries to remove all squatters, and instead of compensating them, they would extort them of all possessions.”

“Back then, I wasn’t born yet, but I endured the aftereffects. We lived in the slums of Bourd, scraping by with the bare minimum while the people lost faith in ‘Her’.”

“At the same time, rumors say the farmers contracted to plow the fields unearthed ancient ruins and soon met strange deaths. Although people are afraid to admit it, I’m sure of this — this is ‘Her’ wrath!”

Deus fell into contemplation, Is this the limit of Gods' influence on this world? If so, there must be major constraints. They’re far from omnipotent.

As the night grew darker, Deus consoled the young man while diverting the topic to something less loaded. While Monte babbled like a waterfall, most of his words were jargon to Deus, consisting of bureaucracy and policies. Without the right context, even insomniacs would be put to sleep.

However, the work ethic of actors was tight, leaving little room for sleep. Even after shooting, actors would be immersed within their roles for countless hours, memorizing lines and practicing skills. Even though Deus felt like at the edge of insanity, he endured the tiredness.

In the following couple of hours, he learned that although Monte worked as a pastry chef, he taught himself law, which was in accord with his ramblings. After they would visit his mother, they would directly move to the Earldom of Dermount, in which he hoped to attain a license as a lawyer due to some obscure loophole.

Eventually, tiredness settled even in Monte, who was very enthusiastic in his quasi-monologue. It seemed there was rarely someone who actually tried listening to him attentively. He covered Mariel with a woolen blanket, who lay in the lap of Misses Pink, unperturbed by her loud snoring. Meanwhile, brother Zarael had already long fallen asleep after his evening prayers.

Next, he exchanged glances with Deus, who gestured for him to lay down on the wooden floor of the wagon, while he lay on the bench. Monte drifted off immediately, while Deus remained awake for a couple of minutes, watching the night sky blanketing all in a greenish hue.

Early in the morning, when the sun had yet to rise, he awoke to a sudden jerk. His eyelids opened slowly, adjusting to the gas lamps which cast his shadow against the canvas tarp. From outside, the shadow twisted into a horrible figure, like in shadow puppetry.

When his eyes had fully adjusted to the light, he saw that it was brother Zarael who shook him from his slumber. As he was the first to fall asleep, he was comparatively energized.

“Sir, it’s a government checkpoint. You’ll be the last up.”

“Thank you,” Deus responded tiredly and directed his attention behind, where two men in uniform stood, round helmets strapped to their heads. While one’s face was weathered with scars and white sideburns peeked from his helmet, the other’s skin was pale and spotless like porcelain.

To Deus’s surprise, it was the younger officer who was the superior — while he supervised the group tightly gathered behind, the older officer patted down Monte.

Deus rubbed his chin in thought, In this society, even with years of experience, one will be restrained by the status placed upon oneself at birth. This is the natural order, accepted by both the wealthy and the poor.

When sister Mary was adopted by the aristocracy, this very law was disrupted. Could this be the cause that truly angered the public?

“Old man, it’s your turn,” said the younger officer, his words dripping with arrogance, as Monte reunited with his daughter, Misses Pinker, brother Zarael, the coachman, and — Deus paused.

Who’s that?

The officer balled his fists, raising his voice, “Have you gone deaf already?!”

Deus snapped from his shock, complying with the policeman and approaching them. However, his gaze remained lingering on the stranger who’d mingled with his group.

Despite the winter’s chill, the man wore a threadbare linen shirt, revealing his hairy chest. His eyes were covered with a white blindfold, while long hair hung to his shoulders. Wrapped around his neck was a brown shawl.

When Deus arrived at the older officer, and he began patting him up and down, the stranger’s lips curled into an eerie smile.

Who’s that? Shivers ran down Deus’s spine.