image [https://i.imgur.com/hR8GDmy.png]

THE CHILD

"We decided to move service an hour later. Just in case folks wanted to go to both. It has been depressing how few people show up anymore. A little new blood is going to be such a blessing." Dancia's mother had been flitting around her humble kitchen all morning. She gave Monte a seeking look as she spoke, as though she might find some redeeming quality in his face. Then she put a steaming bowl of porridge in front of him.

"Eat up dear. You'll need it." She leaned in close and spoke quietly, glancing sideways at her husband.

"It's just not right Thora. I don't care how charismatic this preacher is. What with his god that will make us all flush with coin. It's nonsense! He should be changing to suit us, not the other way around!" Dancia's father spoke up now. He either didn't hear, or chose to ignore, Thora's instructions to Monte.

He was seated opposite Monte and Dancia at the small table. In front of him was a large steaming mug of coffee and nothing else. He held a boot between his legs and he was brushing it furiously. The boot appeared to be older than Monte. No amount of polishing could possibly make it look any younger than it did.

"Now now Torsten, we already went through this. Our neighbors have made their choice, and we will honor it." Thorna said, sitting down at the table with much smaller bowl of porridge that was somehow already cold.

"Besides, I think some folks are starting to realize the preacher isn't all he says he is." Thorna said as she cut off the end of a pad of butter and slid it into Monte's bowl. Just then the cat hopped into her lap, looking expectantly at the mound of butter. Thorna gave the cat a scratch, turned to Dancia and Monte, and spoke in an exaggerated whisper.

"Your father's not too happy about things changing. Reminds him he's getting older." Thora said. Her eyebrows were raised.

Thorna carefully sliced a sliver of butter off and offered it to the cat. Monte heard her bell tinkle. If he hadn't known better, he would have said the bell sounded delighted.

"Tell you the truth I just miss being finished with service before the sun's out in full." Torsten grumbled. The justification wasn't entirely convincing.

Monte suspected there was something else happening in the little hamlet that Dancia's parents weren't discussing. The cat stuck her paw out to claim some more of the butter and Monte gently swatted it back. This time her bell sounded angry, but Monte assumed it was him interpreting the look she gave him.

"I think it's very big of you to go along with it, Dad." Dancia said to her father. He didn't stop working on the boot, but Monte saw the stiffness in his movements soften slightly at the words. Dancia had finished her porridge and was sipping on her coffee.

"And I do want to see what all the fuss is about." Dancia took a pause. Monte knew what was coming next. Everyone in the room did. He made sure not to look at her, fearing it might give him away as the source of the coming question.

"But do we really have to go to both?" Dancia spoke and promptly lifted her mug to cover all but her eyes. She leaned back in her chair. Monte was on the edge of his seat.

Torsten stopped brushing the boot and looked at Thorna like a child who just heard he could skip dinner and go straight to desert. Thorna took a long, contemplative drink from her mug of coffee. Monte thought she looked like she might change her mind.

"Yes." She said, pulling her mug away from her lips finally.

Then the cat jumped onto the table to get the butter and Monte had to scoop her up. The entire scene went from tense to chaotic in an instant.

Monte thanked Dancia for even asking while they dressed. He had given him a pretty stern rebuke when they got upstairs to the bedroom they were sharing. Dancia wasn't the cat's biggest fan and wondered aloud why she had to be here. Monte placed the cat down on their bed and she curled up, satisfied with herself as usual. Monte didn't respond, but she would have to stay behind for the two services.

Within the hour the four of them were filing into the old house of the infirm. Monte felt as though he must have been introduced to forty people. As soon as they walked in, they were greeted by other families from the hamlet. They were all very polite to Monte. He must have met twenty people and afterwards he remembered none of their names.

How the other families treated Dancia and her parents differed widely. Some looked and spoke to Thorna and Torsten as though they pitied them. Others almost seemed to be apologetic. One interaction stuck with Monte for how strange it was.

"Thorna, Torsten, what are you doing here?" A woman roughly the same age as the two of them asked.

"We're here to see what everyone is talking about." Thorna responded as though the question was cordial.

"Oh, you shouldn’t have come here for this." The husband of the woman said. Monte took him at his word, but was apparently missing some cultural context. Torsten managed to chuckle in response.

"Please. We wanted to know what everyone's been raving about." Torsten said to the man.

"Well. Good luck then. I hope we see you again." The wife said. Once again Monte thought the words were meant to be sincere. The couple did not appear to be excited to see them there at all. Were they disappointed? Monte thought they almost looked afraid.

Dancia found the group some space in the back row just in time for the show to start. Monte had no idea what to expect. When he finally saw the preacher, it took a few minutes to place what he reminded Monte of. In the Capitol there were street criers of various kinds who would bellow for attention. He'd met many people with a tendency towards the theatrical like Terran. And of course he'd seen obvious Company men. Lately, he'd seen too many for his liking. The man who took the stage in front of the seated crowd was a combination of all three.

"You can receive favor. You can receive wealth. You can receive blessings and riches beyond your wildest dreams in your lifetime. Do you know it?" The preacher yelled the question as he took the stage.

"We know it!" The crowd responded in ragged unison.

Monte saw that contrary to his reputation, the preacher was both shorter, plumper, and redder than he expected. He had a shock of straw-colored hair and blue gray eyes. He was dressed completely in bleached white cotton clothes, with shiny black boots.

"You can rise above the commoner. You can be one of the chosen ones, who toils not for others, but for themselves. Do you know it?" The preacher asked again. This time the crowd was ready and uttered their response with gusto. Monte found himself already tired of it.

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"Take the humble tavern owner right here in your town." The preacher indicated a man. Monte recognized him as the server from the night before. He saw the man bow his head as the preacher pointed to him. Monte noticed he was wearing a high collared tunic, and the bruises and cuts on his face had healed a little bit.

"How did he do it? Not with help from others. He doesn't need that. He did it with the will of our god, and his own will. He was spending too much on things he didn't need. He was letting money walk out the door.” The preacher took a dramatic pause and looked out the door. Monte watched some heads turn in the same direction.

“Focusing too much on the needs of his patrons. Focusing too much on the needs of others over his own needs. If you let the money rule you then you are not in charge. Take back the control like our friend here has." The preacher indicated the server again and took a pause. Some people shouted an affirmation and there was a hearty applause.

What exactly are they clapping for?

Monte reflected on last night's mostly empty tavern and its meager offerings. It wasn't a tavern experience that lived up to Monte’s standards. Not to mention the man had recently been roughed up. The innkeeper needed more than applause, he needed to stop following the preacher's advice.

"He isn't waiting around for riches. He's chosen to make them. He's chosen to become one of the blessed. You have to want it first, isn't that right? And once you want it, it's simply there for you to take it." The preacher kept going on, saying mostly nothing. Monte looked down the row. Torsten did not appear to be listening at all. His eyes were closed, but Monte didn't know how he could have already fallen asleep.

That's impressive.

Thorna was looking around the room and mostly paying attention. Monte saw her roll her eyes at a particularly vapid line from the preacher. Monte respected that she was here because her friends and neighbors asked her. He guessed it would be the last time she or Torsten put themselves through it. Dancia, like the rest of the room, was rapt by the words of the man on stage.

What is she hearing that I'm not?

"We all once knew of the seven. The Holy Seven. When you divide yourself by seven, you're left with nothing, you must see that. One split into seven gets nowhere. When you receive the blessing of our god, the god of yourself, your rewards come seven times over!" The preacher's words were getting louder and more emphatic. He was pacing slowly across the stage. Any time he paused there were murmurs spurning on the energy. The crowd was eating it up.

Monte always thought of the seven idols as representing different but overlapping aspects of a community. Part of simply surviving in this world was putting trust in others to do the things you couldn't. But if you never provided any help to the community, it would break down. As he listened to the preacher spout ideas that felt empty and wrong-headed, he felt something he hadn't in many years. He longed to speak to his mother.

"Who here rejects it? Who here, in this crowd, this morning, doesn't believe?" The preacher was scanning around the room with his hand over his eyes. To Monte he looked ridiculous. He stopped. The preacher was staring directly at Thorna. Others nearer the front snuck glances at who the preacher had landed on.

"Some in this room believe it's the seven that will bring them to prosperity. They're wrong. With the seven you get nowhere. It's up to us here to show those non-believers the way. We must show them the true path to prosperity. The true path to riches and wealth is through the self. Through the one, not the many." He spoke, once again quiet and still, staring straight into Thorna.

People in the crowd were still following the preacher's gaze. Many turned around to leer at the object of his ire. Monte glanced over and found Thorna's face frozen. She was mortified by the negative attention.

I wish he'd looked at me instead.

Then the preacher broke the eye contact and turned to the crowd again. He wiped sweat from his brow and strutted across the stage like a gamecock. He was more animated than before and the energy in the room was buzzing.

"As we leave here today, I ask you. I beg of you. Go out and make your own righteousness. Go and make your own fortune. Do not allow the ties to community lash you to the mast of mediocrity. Do not allow the asks of the sick and the weak to trim the sails of wealth and industry. In the end, is not the individual alone who stands in judgement? Then go and be guided by your own actions, your own desires, towards personal gain! Go and claim the riches you deserve and may nothing stand in your way!" The preacher concluded and the tension in the room broke. People were immediately on their feet.

Monte did not stand, but Dancia did. Thorna shook Torsten awake and the two of them escaped the hall immediately.

"We'll catch up with you. I want to meet the preacher." Dancia said to her parents as they left. Monte wished he could go with them. He had no desire to stay in this place, and even less to speak to the charlatan who had just droned on for the better part of an hour.

The line to speak to the preacher stretched around the interior of the building. It seemed like every congregant wanted to have a personal conversation after hearing his words.

"At this rate we're going to be late for the prayer. Didn't you want to talk to your mother about something?" Monte asked. Dancia was transfixed on the preacher and acted like she hadn't heard him at first.

"What's that? Oh. Yes. It can wait though." She said dismissively.

Monte wasn't too broken up about missing out on the labor no doubt involved in praying to the Husband. He was looking forward to asking Torsten what he thought of the sermon.

And how he falls asleep so fast.

"That was so inspiring, wasn't it?" Dancia asked him. Monte couldn't remember her sounding this enthusiastic about anything except applying for the Academy. He took her as someone legitimately interested in healing the sick.

"Well…" Monte said.

"You didn't love it?" Dancia looked at him. Her eyes were seeking about for his affirmation. He had a hard time ever denying her anything.

"It was… inspiring. I guess." Monte allowed himself the lie.

"I just feel like I could do anything now. I want to ask him what I should do. How can I seize being a healer for myself? How can I make the academy mine?" She wasn't really talking to Monte anymore.

You could start by reading the books I bought you.

Admission to the Academy was no small thing. Monte was fortunate to have been able to call on his community for tutoring, and his town had so many former students he had plenty of people to call on.

It hadn't occurred to him that Dancia’s hamlet might not be so lucky. Attending the Academy would be a notable achievement for her. She had put so much pressure on herself. In that moment it occurred to Monte why someone offering a simple path to success would be appealing.

"You could ask your mother if she knows any Academy healers. You said she prayed to The Healer her entire life, right?" Monte asked. He was trying to be helpful, but sometimes he felt like his advice fell on deaf ears.

"We're in the house of the infirm, they shut it down to use it for better things. There are no more healers here." Dancia said, her head clearly somewhere else.

"So where do people go when they’re sick? Where does your mom pray?" Monte hadn't considered that without the house of the infirm had apparently been converted for other purposes. He knew he wasn't going to get an answer. They had moved through the line and Dancia was already shaking the preacher's hand.

"Welcome and thank you for coming. It's so nice to see new faces here." The preacher said.

"You were so inspiring. I feel like I can do anything!" Dancia said. Monte thought she seemed more eager for this man's attention than she'd ever been for his.

The preacher extended a hand towards Monte. Forgetting his manners now wouldn't make this interaction go by any faster. He took the man's hand. Monte expected it to be soft like the rest of him, but it was anything but. His specific callouses let Monte know he was shaking hands with someone who could wield a sword. He looked into the cold eyes of the preacher and felt the hairs on his neck stand up.

"Thanks for being here. It's great to meet you." The preacher said. Monte noted a look of recognition coming from the preacher. It felt especially strange coming from someone he was meeting for the first time, and never wished to meet again.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too. I'm Monte. We're just visiting for now, we're from the Capitol." Monte said to the preacher. He didn't know why he said so much. It was like he lost control of his mouth for a moment.

"The Capitol eh? I hope you're spread the good word when you go back!" The preacher's grin didn't appear manufactured, but there was still something Monte found disquieting about it.

"Please preacher I need your help. I want to be admitted to the Academy. How can I claim it for myself?" Dancia asked. Monte thought the question sounded pleading and silly. There was no reason to ask this man either, how could he possibly know?

"Remember that if you just reach out hard and take it, it can be yours. You must do things for you and just you. Remember that. If you do there is nothing you and our god together can't achieve." The preacher's smile broadened as he said it. Dancia somehow looked smitten with the answer.

He didn’t say anything!

"And what about you Monte? What do you want for yourself?" He turned to Monte and asked.

"Oh. I'm just fine with the old ways thanks. I'm trying to get more involved in the community." He watched the preacher's smile flash from his face. For an instant Monte was sure he'd seen the man's eyes and the corner of his mouth turn slightly into a look of pure malice before recovering. Monte knew then he was looking at a killer.

"Well… we will just have to see about that."