THE BALLAD OF SETT THE ABANDONED?
“I hope Father Giovanni doesn’t call me to his room again.” “Why do orphans have to be so cute?” “I stole an extra piece of bread from the cafeteria and no one noticed. Maybe I should try for something bigger.” “Dear Goddess Argentina, please make the hunger go away.” “My back hurts again.”
Sett Sautierre found himself walking idly down an empty hallway lined with marble walls and gold leaf. He had hoped that the place would me more isolated, but unfortunately the corridor to the orphanage lay past the next door. It was always harder to sort through his thoughts when the chorus of voices was present.
One of those voices. Did that belong to an adult?
With a sigh of disappointment, he opened the door to find a slightly-less-ornamented hallway. The muffled sounds of children could be heard, and he saw a fat, middle-aged man in a priest robe staring through a crack in one of the doors.
“Sarah is cheating at cards.” “There’s no way Kristy knows that I’m cheating at cards.”
Sett’s white robes and red sash gently waved as he glided toward the distracted man. He stopped when the moment the other man noticed him.
“Oh it’s him. The Puritan.”
“Ugh, good evening, Bishop Sautierre.”
“Father Giovanni.” Sett nodded.
“I was, uh. Just checking on the children” the priest stammered as he closed the door.
“He’s gone.” “Does this mean I’m safe?” “What hope do I have of advancement if I’m never chosen!?”
“I can see that” Sett answered to the obvious lie. Forcing down his disgust, he ran his fingers through his golden hair - trying not to bury his face into his palm.
“But is it necessary to check on the girl’s dormitory? Why did you not ask a nun?”
The fat priest frowned. “This prick.” “Bishop-” he said in a placating tone, “I didn’t want to disturb the nuns is all. They’re usually so busy taking care of the children.”
“Is that how you want to play it?” Sett replied, tone cold.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bishop.”
“Seriously, why does this asshole have to ruin all of our fun? I can’t wait for Bartholomew and Pax to get rid of him.”
Hm, they’re going to get rid of me, eh?
“Do you know if there’s anything for me to do around here?” Sett prodded. He did not hear hear the man’s answer over the sound of his thoughts.
“I expect not to see you here at this time of night again, ‘Father’” Sett threatened. Then he headed back through the door toward the stairs heading down. Mulling over the words he heard in Giovanni’s thoughts. “Pax will give him a task that will keep him away from here for a while. Hopefully permanently.”
Sett descended. Further and further. Finally, no voices could reach him besides his own. The base of the monastery looked more like a dungeon, with its walls carved out of the rock. He passed by one locked door said to contain the crypt where the six angels - the hunters of the destroyer - lay in perpetual torpor. Past the wooden door at the end of the hall he found a stone statue of Aura - the god of the sun, fierce and muscular - bringer of light, warmth, and the protector of the weak. Beside him stood a feminine statue: Argentina - the silvery moon goddess of night, rest, rejuvenation, and of the information magic that lets men see without light. Despite being decent carvings by the standard of a normal craftsman, they looked so crude compared to the ones in the main floor of the church.
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“Is that why no one comes down here?” Sett wondered aloud to himself.
Sett preferred the rough hewn shapes. It allowed him to address the statues without pomp and circumstance.
“Why… have you abandoned us?”
The church was rotten.
This world was one where the strong dominated the weak, and nobles held the power of life-and-death over the peasants. This disparity was even greater in the church, where the noble-born priests retained magical power, connections, and the backing of their own families, whereas the orphan children would not be missed by a single person. It was only inevitable that some would abuse this power and, without the gods to intervene, they would encourage each other and spread like maggots over an open wound. The church did have a god-given function: to oversee and maintain the balance of the world. The priests had at least enough integrity to go through the motions. Otherwise the organization would have crumbled completely long ago.
Oh Dianna, why did you have to always go ahead of me?
Once again, his thoughts trailed back to a certain dark-haired woman. One with eyes like dewdrops and a smile like sunshine that radiated through the forest leaves. Dianna The Saintess, she was called. A child of god who joined the church and performed miracle after miracle, until she ascended to the highest position in the church – that as the living voice of the gods. With that power, she made reforms one after the other, and even instituted the orphanages and the protection of all children as church doctrine.
“To have outlived you by over a hundred years. Blessed woman, you make me feel old.”
He looked up again at the two statues as if confirming a thought, and the seed of a decision he would not utter began to weigh on his mind.
“For as long as I can remember, she has done far more for this world than you.”
Hardening his resolve, Sett turned and slammed the door behind him, before striding to where he thought one of the two priests might be. As he approached the priests’ lounge he heard familiar voices.
“Man, I could really use a three or two.” “Why? Oh why, does my family expect me to entertain this dullard for their connections!”
“Do you have any threes?”
“Go fish.”
Two portly men in white (bishop) robes sat at a table with a deck of cards between them. The one on the left was pale, and had eyes like a fox. The other was tan with very grey hair. When the two turned to look at him the sounds Sett heard changed.
“Oh, it’s!- Pshtnwass .. fshtlshxtls ffuuplxw kill .. fish .. hsrddboitonxeria” “Ah, Sett! Maybe he could join us? It would be fun if he did.”
“Greetings Bishop Tartoriis, Bishop Wight.” Sett announced.
The second man’s brow knit with concern.
“Please, it’s just us three. Everywhere else it’s ‘Bishop this’ and ‘bishop that’. I wouldn’t mind if you just call me ‘Bart.’”
“Yes.” the first one agreed. “Everywhere else it’s ‘Bishop this’ and ‘bishop that’. We deserve a space to ourselves, Sett.”
“hsathstths cckxmc,x.88tp”
Men at the same rank as Bishop Sett Sautierre would have both the access to know that Sett’s blessing is that he can read minds, and how to guard against it. In Pax’s case, that took the form of static, mixed with random words and phrases. As much as Sett often hated his ability to read minds, Pax’s concealment annoyed him in it’s own way. Bartholomew didn’t seem to make any effort to conceal it at all. From Sett’s perspective, Bart was either an unparalleled master of his own thoughts, or a remarkably honest man. Sett couldn’t tell which was more rare.
“I will accept your argument.” Sett replied. “Except that my presence here is for church business.”
“Oh, how very formal” Pax japed.
“What brings you here?”
“I heard that you two had something for me?”
“Yes!” Pax started, adjusting his skull cap to better cover his bald head. “There are signs that a new Child of God is awakening. In case the waves this one makes are too large, we need someone to go to each of our allies and make our alliances are intact”
Bart handed Sett a piece of paper listing out all the people he needs to visit. The list was not short. At least half were not human.
“This will require enormous travel, excellent cultural sensitivity, negotiating, and potentially combat skills. You know better than I do how easily things can go sideways, and I can’t think of anyone more qualified to do this task than you, Bishop Sautierre.”
“Did the other bishops agree to send me.”
“No.” Pax interjected. “But the next time the five of us meet, I would have nominated you.”
“And I would have seconded.” Bartolomew added on.
“Very well.” Sett replied.
“That’ll keep him away for a while.” “He’s been doing this since before I was a small boy. By the light, do I admire that!”
It seems that Pax’s thoughts leaked through a bit. Sett looked into the man’s fox-like eyes, and Pax held his gaze.
You want to get rid of me that badly, eh? Bart’s reasoning may be right but I can still punish you for that - at least a little.
Sett broke into a grin and Pax’s eyes shifted.
“Deal me in, Bart. I don’t have to leave right away.”
The tan man grinned through his grey mustache. And an opulent room of marble and gold leaf, with plush couches more expensive than a village’s annual income, housed three old men playing with a deck of cards.