Chapter 106
Where Ill is Born
The story that followed was both ordinary and yet strange, a woven tale of dualities that painted the state of the village beyond perfectly. According to the two women, the village was founded around a hundred years ago or so by a pair of brothers, which was precisely where the feeling of duality began.
One of the brothers belonged to Aynerns, the order of the Kingdom's prime religion where the central tenant of worship was the sun itself. The other brother, however, didn't belong to any religion and was even a staunch proponent of non-religious rites. As such, from the onset, there were issues with trying to decide the direction of the village.
The religious dominance won in the end, and the majority of the village's rituals and the way people lived were aligned with the Aynern's Ways, as they were called. This meant that everyone was forced to attend the Church twice a day for the Sunrise and Sundown worship ceremonies. Furthermore, during the zenith, everyone was instructed to say a prayer.
Additionally, people were disallowed to leave their rooms after sundown, and during the cloudy days, all entertainment was banned, including the use of alcohol. ‘A Day of Doom’ was instituted immediately and it took Sylas a moment to realize they were talking about the eclipse.
There were forty-four main tenants in total, he learned, chief among which were, beyond just the main rules of worship and prayer, cemented monogamy, the limit of four children (in accordance with the seasons), rituals of Sunbathing, Sundawning, and Sunsailing, all of which only sounded to Sylas at least like prime roots of skin cancers, and so on.
Though there was nothing particularly unique among most of the tenants, as they seemed to be fairly consistent, the tenants themselves were quite commanding, demanding, and limiting.
Early on, however, people were allowed to make a choice--those who didn’t wish to be part of the Aynerns could choose so and weren’t forced into participating in any rituals. Over time, however, as the number of religious people increased and the non-believers decreased, largely because the religion’s traditions were quite hereditary while the non-believers were more likely to leave in pursuit of the opportunities elsewhere, the pendulum waved toward one side far more.
In the end, just before this winter, in fact, there was an Inquisition of sorts, where all those who didn’t publicly proclaim their belief in the Sungod were executed on the spot. Some managed to escape, using the tunnels that they’ve been building secretly for a while now to hide underground. Nonetheless, it could hardly be called living.
The atmosphere turned heavy when they ended the story; it seemed everyone except for Sylas had their mood trampled, even his ‘sister’. It wasn’t as though he didn’t sympathize, but he was far more curious than angry. After all, this was his first look at the broader geopolitical structure of the Kingdom. If he ever wanted for Valen to sit upon the throne, he’d first have to understand how the Kingdom operated and which levers to pull to obtain the best result possible.
What he learned that the Kingdom was actually fairly free in terms of religion--though it had a predominant one that most followed, it wasn’t enforced by law for the most part, though there was a lot of pressure from the institution itself under the guise of ‘spreading the message’. It was the same here, he mused inwardly; institutions taking something mostly pure and corrupting it to serve their needs.
All the same, it was a key piece of information. If he wanted Valen to rule, he’d either have to get the institution on his side or take their power away. This village was his opportunity to get a closer look at how the fundamentalist chunk of the religious folk in the Kingdom behaved. Though it was unlikely to be a representative of the larger state, since that is rarely ever truly the case, if he learns of the extreme limits, it’d be much easier for the future.
“... what do you want me to do?” Sylas asked.
“Though Aynerns even hold the nobility and royalty with certain disregard,” the two women said. “There is one group that even they defer to greatly--the Divine. Exorcists, Sages, Beholders, Prophets, Vanquishers... if--if you talked to them, maybe...”
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“...” Sylas stroked his chin for a moment, falling in thought. He wasn’t hurried to help them--after all, he’d inevitably reset it, so just tossing himself in heroically wouldn’t really change anything outside scoring a few pointless moral points that would hardly hold any sway inside his broken psyche. “Can any of you use magic?”
“Hah, if only,” the two women smiled bitterly. “Only An has any talent, but his is extremely limited. For the rest of us... I’m afraid we are just ordinary folk who merely wish to live our lives without a massive hammer looming over our heads.”
“Do you mind if I talk with my sister for a bit first?” Sylas said. “After all, going after Aynerns, even with my identity...”
“Of course, of course,” the women nodded, with one of them taking out a tiny bell from her dress and putting it on a table. “Ring that when you are ready.”
“Will do,” escorting them with his eyes, he immediately shifted them to his ‘sister’ who finally pulled away from him. “Really?”
“... w-what?” she mumbled, looking away from his gaze.
“Considering all the vile crap you spew in front of me,” he said. “I thought you’d be even worse in front of the others.”
“S-shut up! It’s... it’s been a while.”
“Anyway, that aside. What do you think?”
“We should help them, of course!”
“Huh? No, not that,” Sylas said. “Wait--you trust them?”
“... what?! You don’t?!” she exclaimed in horror, looking at him.
"Of course I don't," he shrugged. "Don't you think that the story is just a wee bit too perfect?"
“What do you mean?”
“Here’s a life lesson for you,” he said. “If someone tells you a story in which they one hundred percent, absolutely, unquestionably come off as a victim... it’s always a lie. No fire stirs from nothing.”
“What are you saying?! That they’re at fault for not wanting to worship a God?!” it seemed as though she was genuinely hurt on their behalf, causing Sylas to sigh. She truly was quite naive.
“Put aside your naive, noble, humanitarian heart that I oh-so-deeply envy,” he said. “And think about it. They just happen to somehow escape the town-wide persecution using the tunnels that they just happen to have been building for years now, in secrecy, that just happen to function and not collapse? Please,” he scoffed. “The story stinks more than my shit.”
“Then... w-what are you saying?” she mumbled, though still appearing unconvinced. “Why would they lie?”
"Why do people lie in general? 'cause they want something," Sylas said. "For all we know, they could be criminals hiding from the law and want to use my identity to either fight their battles or to distract the people in the village while they go off to commit some more crime. Then again, some of what they said is likely true. They were quite convincing, and it's difficult to do so without weaving some truth into the lies. If I were to bet," he thought back to the story for a moment before continuing. "It's likely true that the majority of people in the village were believers, but the part about being persecuted for not believing is likely fabricated or greatly exaggerated. The true reason as for why they were kicked out of the village is probably far less innocent."
“...” she remained silent, pulling her knees against her chin. It was clear that she didn’t like the implications, that she didn’t want to believe in them. After all, Sylas had long since realized that she held the purity of the world in high regard, believing in the best of everyone. After all, she extended that faith on him of all people.
“Hey,” he called out to her, causing her to drift her gaze toward his. “Even if I’m wrong, isn’t it better to be sure? Wouldn’t you feel awful if we just blindly condemned a group of people for their beliefs?”
“I... I know,” she grumbled. “I just... I don’t want to believe it.”
“I know,” he smiled lightly, patting her head gently. She winced but didn’t move away. “That’s because you’re somehow a thirty-year-old woman with a mentality of a teenage girl thinking that yelling really loudly at old people will change the world.”
“... fuck you.”
“Ha ha ha,” Sylas regaled in laughter for a moment at her pouting expression, pulling back. “Looks like you’ve regained your spirit. We can finally start talking about the plan then, huh?”
“What do you have in mind?” she asked, sighing.
“We’ll accept their request, naturally,” Sylas said. “But I want you to stay here with them.”
“H-huh?! Why?! If you think they’re the bad guys, aren’t you just leaving me to die?!” she exclaimed angrily.
“No, no, no, just hear me out! Look, I’m gonna reset this loop anyway. As such, I want you to beg and pray to your God to let you keep some memories, at least from here on out. I want to know how they behave, and what you can learn from them. They’ll likely be less on guard against you since they just think you’re an ordinary, shy girl. While I deal with the village, observe them. So, the next loop around, we’ll have a greater and broader picture of exactly what’s going on.”
“... let me tell you this straight away: it’s unlikely my prayers will be answered,” she said after a brief pause. “Whatever I end up dreaming about is beyond my power. It’s entirely possible I’ll completely forget we even went on this journey.”
“Still, we can only give it a shot,” Sylas shrugged. “If you forget, I’ll just repeat everything like the last time and wait for you under that ridge where we can resume our little adventure. The next time, we’ll do things differently. Besides, I’ll likely learn a thing or two from my visit above, so everything should even itself out. Can you do it?”
“Humph, of course I can! Don’t underestimate me!”
“Aii, I’m really worried now...”
“Tsk, you bastard.”