1 Soul Bound
1.2 Taking Control
1.2.1 An Icy Welcome
1.2.1.22 The blind preacher
Kafana brought up her map, and looked for Bungo and Tomsk. Tomsk was with Lelio, but Bungo was nearby. She headed towards the tree near the Eastern side he was standing under, listening to an adventurer wearing a blindfold who was standing on a wooden crate covered in a rainbow cloth, preaching to the people moving between the Plaza of the Public and the Plaza of the Founders. About fifty of them had stopped to listen, mostly children or old folks.
Irus the Blind: “The world is ending. Not today, nor tomorrow, but within the next 10 years. It will not end in fire from devils nor shattering by Seth awakened. Rather it will die in darkness and quiet.”
He didn’t rant or seem insane. Rather he spoke in a voice of reason and firm conviction, as one who knows something you do not, and he was more convincing for it.
Irus the Blind: “I am one of Cov’s chosen questing spirits. I have seen the world beyond this world. I know the true nature of the deities, and of the powers above them. And I tell you, this world will be ended. Shut down. Terminated like a chess player putting aside their pieces after a match. Because that is all you are to them. Just pieces in a game.”
He warmed to his theme, passion entering his voice, and his audience stilled, caught up in his words.
Irus the Blind: “I may be blind, but I see more than you do. I know why there is so much evil in this world. I know what your purpose in life is. Would you like to know? Do you dare?”
A few in the audience cried out “Yes”, but it was enough. He ploughed onwards.
Irus the Blind: “Evil was put on this world because it amuses these higher powers to see you struggle against it. Because it makes for a good story. Because just letting you live happy, peaceful and fulfilling lives would be boring for those in the world beyond. That is your purpose in life. And when you are no longer sufficiently interesting, when the numbers of adventuring spirits who choose to come among you dwindles, that will be the sign that the Great Darkness is imminent.”
She turned to Bungo, who was looking as white as a sheet.
Kafana: “Bungo, what’s up? Why are you listening to this guy.”
Bungo: “I recognise him. I frigging recognise him. The words may be different, but the turn of phrase, the tricks of pacing, the body posture - they’re identical. I spent so many years being forced to listen to them for hours every Sunday and Wednesday, I can’t possibly be mistaken. And that voice, oh Lord that voice. It is him.”
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Kafana, cautiously: “Who is he, Bungo?”
Bungo: “He is my father, and the man I hate more than anyone else I have ever met.”
Kafana: “The one who hit you on the head with a big leather bound Bible?”
Bungo: “The one who I could never be good enough for. The one who every day told me how loathsome and sinful I was. The one who said all technology was a sin that separated us from concentrating upon God. The one who made me kneel for hours on a cold concrete floor, praying for forgiveness for reading a science magazine. The one who ensured I never had any friends, just people who mocked and pitied me. The one who never quite stepped over the line, who I was able to make excuses for, to myself and to others, until he finally did that one unambiguous thing I could point to and which I used to free my mind of his influence. That day I left, changed my name, hitchhiked to California and never looked back, never contacted my family again. At least, that’s what I thought.”
Bungo: “But standing here, going over my life in my head, I think I’ve spent all the years since reacting to him. As controlled by him as if I were still under his thumb. I didn’t escape at all. There’s nothing I could do to him in a game that’s bad enough. I don’t have any words to say. I don’t have any roles to hide behind. I think I’m going to throw up. Flipping out.”
Oh, Lord. Bungo! Be ok!
He was no longer there, but she held out her arms to give his Vessel a hug in his place. It was a poor substitute.
[Kafana, you asked me to remind you “Consequences!”]
Melchior’s voice interrupted her increasingly vengeful thoughts as she glared at the preacher. She settled for putting an orglife annotation upon him: “Hypocrite and Abuser.”
Kafana: {Guys, head’s up. Bungo just got a severe emotional shock, meeting someone here that he knows in arlife. It isn’t my secret to tell, and don’t push him on it, but if any of you have a way to check in on him in arlife, support him. Also, count him out of any plans for a while. Even if he does log back in, he’s going to be fragile as hell.}
Tomsk: {Sounds nasty. I don’t know his details, but Bulgaria might. I’ll ask him after the tournament. The final looks like it will take a while. It is incredibly close and they’re fighting every point like it is life or death.}
Kafana: “Dino, will you take my orders?”
Dino: “To the death, Suor Kafana, without question. You are our saviour, and Cov speaks through you.”
Damn, did she want that amount of authority? It was yet another responsibility, like having to cast her magic carefully lest it kill people she didn’t intend to kill. This was why she was walking around dressed as a bard, rather than an operatic diva or crowned monarch.
Kafana: “Dino, for now Bungo needs protection more than I do. I’m reassigning you all to guard his Vessel. He’s your Guru, and a good one, but don’t forget he is a person too.”
Dino: “Yes, Suor Kafana. As you command.” and they left with him, as he headed back to the Sanctum.