Thana Mourningjay

The temple to Veteo was bright, open and fairly nice if I had to compare it to other temples I'd been in. The décor was simple, but there were benches, and places for lighting incense beside them. Near he front there was a small box of such, a cheaper variety, and another for coins to be deposited in payment for it. The incense was sold at cost, something to burn while you spoke to the dead. People had, and could, just steal the pleasant smelling sticks, but it was considered very distasteful, and rather foolish to steal from a temple, what if some higher being was paying attention?

I wasn't sure exactly how my money translated, but I had some, and we were here for me, so I dropped a gold in the box and took the requisite number of sticks, handing a few to Milo.

“Do you not have someone you would like to pray to as well?” I asked, before turning and heading to one of the many sanctuaries here.

He didn't follow, which matched with what I knew. A priest might come to greet you or pray with you, but it was considered rude to intrude on people during religious events.

I found one of the many altars here and stuck the incense in, lighting it with a nearby candle. I didn't have the magic to do something like that sadly, and began to speak.

“Perry Redthorn, I am sorry, sorry that I didn't get to give your body to your kin, and sorry that you never got a proper burial. I did mean it when I said I would give you one, as you were known to Milo, but it didn't happen. You may not have liked me, but thank you for the aid.”

There was shuffling behind me but I didn't bother turning right now, as I wanted to set up the rest of the offerings for the dead. I counted one for each of the zombies that I'd taken control of, and lit it, offering a small thanks and apology for not seeing them to their graves.

When I was finished I turned, and saw an old man there, lightly stroking his beard.

“Those are rather odd prayers young lady,” he said, motioning over to one of the benches where we might sit.

“I didn't exactly know them,” I replied, taking his offer.

“And yet you came to pray for the dead, and wished to see them to their graves, why?”

“Because I said I'd see to it that the first got buried, and he never did,” I answered lightly.

“Odd, what about the rest, who were they?”

“Don't know, they were undead I ran into, seemed right to at least light some incense for them.”

The priest looked concerned. “Undead are quite dangerous, and consorting with them equally so. We do not take the same stance that Vitala's people do, but it is illegal in this land, and as I said, dangerous.”

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

“Huh, and what is the god of death's stance on undead?” I asked, I'd never gotten a full set of his strictures, only the most general of information, so it seemed reasonable to just ask.

“Veteo doesn't care. The fact is though that the creation of undead is an evil act. Evil acts can be done in the service of good or without other malice, and depending on the type and manner of creation that would change. We are encouraged to take a more middle path, doing what brings joy, neither being overly harmful, nor overly focused on trying to right every wrong in the world.” He scratched his chin for a moment. “In other terms one might say Veteo cares about how you lived and died rather than what happened to your body. If you had a good life, and had fun, and tried not to cause too much pain to others who didn't deserve it.” He laughed at a thought. “Though I assure you he does support screwing over those who do.”

“So he's not going to what, demand part of our life for messing with the dead?” I asked, interested in what the man had to say.

That got me a true laugh. “Everyone whose ever spoken to him seems to believe that he doesn't care how long we live or exist. Everyone dies, today, tomorrow, a thousand years from now, we all die, all of us, and he's there for when we do. Why would he need to rush things or want 'part of your life'? It all comes to him in the end.”

“Would you mind telling me more about your god?” I asked, only to watch the man smile.

Milo Greyson

“Have I lost my way my love? Is my soul tainted now?” I asked over the burning incense.

“You know it's considered rather rude to put your burdens on the dead,” a voice called out to me.

I quickly turned to see a young man, one might even call him a boy, sweeping the floor a few feet behind me. I hadn't heard him, or noticed his approach.

“Spooked me there friend,” I said, pulling my hand back from where it had gone to my sword.

He laughed, “I get that every now and then, but my comment stands. You should tell them about the fun times, not the burdens. Anyway, I doubt your soul is tainted, people who get that way generally don't think about such things. Though if you wanted you could check.”

“What just look at it?” I asked. “I always heard it was dangerous to do stuff like that.”

He smiled as he spoke. “Oh it can be, there are definitely paths you shouldn't go down, but what I'm talking about isn't one of those. There are methods to feel your own soul, and eventually use its power. Just don't go doing that demonic shit and you'll be perfectly okay.” I noticed he wore the simple robes one normally found on a priest, unmarked and dark gray.

“Its power?”

“Oh yeah, souls are powerful buddy, that's why so many things want them. There's so much potential and energy bundled up in there. Even gods use them, that's why they care about mortals. They want the souls, the worship too; we're not talking about that though, we're talking about sensing your soul, different stuff.”

“And you'll what, teach me to do that?” I asked the guy.

“No,” he snorted. “For several reasons, but I'll tell you how to learn. There's a book, Meditations on the Soul, by Lobern Strongfoot. Give that a read and try out the techniques in it. That'll help you figure out if your soul is 'tainted' or anything.”

“Thanks, I'll keep that in mind,” I said as nicely as possible.

“I mean it, it's a good book, and if you have any more soul problems, you might well find help in a temple to death. Ah, please excuse me though, I've got some other things that need taking care of.” The young priest swept the dirt into a small dustpan, gave me a nod, and turned to leave. “Messes everywhere, some that actually need cleaning up, ha!”

I noticed as he left that the stick had burned out, so I lit another and found a spot on one of the benches. I spoke to my wife, as much as I could, about the happy moments in our lives, the good times, the funny stories. Told her I still loved her, still tried to keep doing the right thing, even if it didn't always go the way I thought it would. As the smoke burned down again I felt well, like I'd actually had a full conversation with someone I loved.

When Thana reappeared she had a small book in her arms. She too looked to be in a good mood.

“Where'd you get the book?” I asked as we headed towards the door.

“The priest gave it to me. He's nice, told me a few things about their beliefs,” she said as she put more coins in the offering box. “I'd feel bad taking this without leaving them something, even if he said it was free,” she explained.

“So the book?”

“The main teachings of Veteo. It's super small isn't it?” She must be comparing it to the absolute tomes used in Vitala's worship.

“I guess so, but don't go flaunting it about till we're out of the country. Veteo's worship might not be outlawed, but it certainly isn't popular in some circles. His priests have a reputation.” At her raised eyebrow I continued. “They like to give Vitala's clerics a hard time, basically whenever they think they can get away with it.”

“Surprised nobody's tried to remove them,” she mused.

“They deal with funeral services, and fix really evil problems if they come up. That and nobody wants to see if they could actually irritate death himself doing it. Easier to just tell the people in the back row making fun of you to shut up.”

“Okay, that is great,” she said, laughing.