“I’ve been trying to make them understand, Father. Both humans and Chimes must coexist for heaven to receive souls.”
Sympha’s mind floated above the clouds along with the Burning Bell. She touched his warm metal and updated her father on what happened below.
“I wish for a bit of your time. If you’d speak to your children, this will be resolved quickly.”
Rings, dings, and chimes flowed into Sympha's mind.
“I see… I will convince them, then. That is my duty.”
They continued for several hours, providing information on savings, church attendance, Ember Days, Soot population, etc. Then Sympha remembered this Monarch character and explained what she was about.
“…and she creates a painful blight crystal butterfly things. Gretgle has discovered many Soot bodies infested with this. But now a Chime has been murdered. She can kill our kind without Fallite.”
Dings filled Sympha’s mind.
“Gretgle theorized that it's an evolved Soot. It has happened before, and some Soot resemble humans and even wear clothing. I’ll put more Chimes on finding this Monarch.”
Rings graced Sympha’s thoughts. She wanted to stay longer with her father and have a normal conversation like the ones she had when she was first created, but she’d run out of excuses to continue.
“That is all, Father….”
***
Sympha snapped back to earth with multiple displeasures. The Burning Bell summoned her right when the parade happened, so she missed the whole event. She loved parades.
She sighed, but then her eyes widened. She sensed a great conflict. Both humans and Chimes were suffering loss of life on a grand scale. A sigil of light appeared beneath Sympha’s heels, and she vanished.
***
A few meeker Dowsers recoiled, but the three Drowned glared at the pitch-black sky. Nothing could be seen above except the dim light of the Burning Bell. A bell-themed sigil of light formed in the air, and the tall Maiden Sympha emerged from it. From her back were six white wings raining soft feathers.
Back on the ground, medically knowledgeable Dowsers were taking away the injured. Seven tied Two's stub while another medical Dowser gathered his arm.
“And whose idea was it to ruin my parade?” Sympha asked calmly. Her words were clear at any distance. “I never got to see it….”
“All my idea,” Two grunted instantly. “Since I’m the lowest number here, I tricked these morons into following me for my big speech.”
Sympha swiftly descended before Two. She peered down and grinned. “How wonderful of you to lie for your comrades’ sake. Do you plan to shoot me now, Two?”
Two examined his gun, then tossed the weapon aside, saying, “We’ll all be dead before I pull the trigger. I’ve declared your secret to the world. Whether you admit it or not doesn’t matter now; the Dowsers are coming out of hiding real soon, and people will no longer fear your kind.”
“This secret isn’t true, but you’ve already stated it doesn’t matter. I’d rather not have a war, and I’ll prevent it peacefully.” Sympha leaned in and whispered in Two’s ear, “I wish you a swift recovery, Bernard.” The sky returned as the direct word of God vanished.
***
“I told you I don’t know nothing about nada-zip.” Cherub hovered with crossed arms. “You all popped in on me and gave me a shriek. Some of you look hideous, but I won’t say that out loud,” she bellowed carelessly.
“It felt like I was dragged here by a large hand,” Gadreel said.
“Those insects ruined my glorious body,” Sachiel, who was merely a head, whined. “I can’t revert from this.”
The Bearers and their Chimes were at the central church in O'Landra. They were dazed, befuddled, and worn. Cherub, Gretgle—who had left before the fight started—and Sympha's other loyal Chimes rang blessed bells over the injured.
Hasmed glared at Zaqiel lying on the floor. He knelt, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her to her feet. She thanked him, became timid and flustered, and her ivory cheeks bronzed.
Hasmed quickly released his grip and said, “I don’t care if you're a Bearer or even an Ascended. Respect the church and yourself, and wear some clothing, Zach.”
“You have no respect for the Ascended. You suck, Hasmed,” Cherub proclaimed with her childlike voice.
“I do suck. That is what happens when dealing with two Ascended all the time. Speaking of which…” He looked over to his right.
A sigil of light appeared under the atrium, and shortly after, Sympha walked out. Those in the church only stole a flash of Sympha's six majestic wings before they folded inside her body. Without a word, she strolled to Sachiel and rang her bell over his head. The Kindlers failed to heal Sachiel, but Sympha succeeded instantly.
“What happened?” Sympha asked, putting the bell in her dress sleeve.
“The humans, the Dowsers, attacked us,” Phanuel answered furiously. “They were organized and had far too much access to Fallite. We aimed to smite them until we popped up here.”
“I did that, yes.”
“Why did you do that? We could have destroyed the people that attack and hate us. Hate God. And it was all because they believed there is something beyond the death fog. For nothing.”
“They are hopeful, and their imaginations are wonderful. The whole point of this meeting is to better human/Chime relations, so you see why I stopped the fight. The reason the Dowsers exist is because they’ve become unfaithful to the Burning Bell. This was not overnight; this happened over hundreds of years. This falls upon the Bearers.”
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“That’s correct,” Gadreel replied. “But our methods are all different. I’ve found that strict protection works the best. Curfews and order lead to no crimes. We live in a heavily infested Soot area, but no one has died from one in nearly fifty years.”
“Absolute hogwash,” Sachiel choked. He sipped on local O’Landran wine. “Monetary competition and rewards keep them occupied. You can even buy a saving in my city. Not one Dowser has ever popped up.”
“Cleanliness is what I found to be the best. Everything spotless.” Zaqiel now wore a cute winter jacket. Now and again, she'd glance at the chain-wrapped-head Chime and grin coyly. “The purest and cleanest get saved. The dirtier ones… are asked to work harder.”
“It’s all about bureaucracy. Proper paperwork. Signatures. References!” Phanuel cleaned her glass. “With everything in order, they go to heaven, and the Burning Bell gets its souls.”
“And out of all your methods, what do you do about ones who disagree with their clergy? Or maybe they couldn’t physically or mentally comply.” Sympha walked the Bearers. “Couldn’t be clean. Can’t file paperwork. Poor and can’t work. Not pushed around by authority. Punishment? Torture? Death?”
Phanuel spoke for everyone. “Our methods are effective, and souls go to heaven. You do not hear about outbreaks of Dowsers from our cities. No. But when we come here where humans are wild creatures, we are attacked openly by Dowsers.”
“You don’t agree with freedom?” Sympha placed a finger against her bottom lip and raised a brow.
“I don’t agree with you. We’ve been here for hundreds of years to guide humans to heaven. We are naturally above them, but you see them as equals.”
“I didn’t always have that view, but I’ve gained wisdom. I watched as the Chimes were created. You were all empty and indifferentiable. But slowly, you all gained personalities, opinions, styles, and creativity. And you learned that all by interacting with humans. That’s why I adore them.” Sympha's air wholly changed, and her tone was less motherly. “And the behavior of you, Bearers, is troublesome. I allow you all to do as you please because I believe you also need freedom.”
“Allow?” Gadreel crushed his brows and pounded a table. “God allows us to do as we plea—”
“And I am the direct word of the Burning Bell. If I wanted to replace you, I could do it easily with my Kindlers. Cherub is already beyond three of you as an Ascended.” Cherub fluffed her big bow proudly. “If I were to pay a visit to the cities you rule over,” Sympha walked closer to the four Bearers. Her sclerae were back, and her irises were bright-glowing orange. “Would I kill you over what I saw?”
The Bearers became quiet, and their temperaments submitted. Sympha’s motherly ways returned, and she skipped to a chair.
“Now, let’s discuss how to improve all our cities collectively.”
“Dispense products for proper hygiene.”
“Help the poor get back up to standard.”
“Applications for savings.”
“Better policing and hunting of Soot.”
While they finally discussed ideas, Sympha’s Kindlers finished healing the other Chimes and were finding them places to stay for their time here.
“I’m going to be gone for the next few nights,” Gretgle told Hasmed and Cherub. “Sympha’s aware of it. She wanted me to take a true vacation, but that’s unnecessary. Find a Kindler to cover for me in the southbound church.”
“We got it,” Hasmed sighed. Then, referring to Zaqiel, he said, “If it keeps me away from these Bearers, I’ll cover your days as well.”
“Just turn invisible, brat,” Gretgle cackled. “Watch your rump.”
***
Vora, among everyone else, saw the Dowsers and Bearers fight. She heard the declaration that shook Ruth, but Vora did not attend the gossip and news. All she dwelled on was her father's double life. Was it true? How long? Does mother know? How could he hide this from her? This devastated her dream of a mundane life. Vora failed to recognize her hypocrisy.
Her mother was gone that night. It was just her and her father bunkering in the lit house surrounded by cold gray fog. Vora was up in her room, trying to fix her Monarch mask with glue and wood. She grew frustrated and eventually tossed her mask against the wall in the closet. The combination of her father, Klev, and puberty spiked her emotions.
“Vora?” came a voice from below. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“I'm busy!” Vora shouted, slapping a bug that landed on her hand.
“Be unbusy and come down here. It’s important.”
Vora groaned and slumped downstairs, where her father waited in his checkered night robe and slippers.
“Let’s go into my study,” he said with a calm rumble. “Best place to talk.”
Vora had never been in her father's study before; It was locked when he wasn't there. She entered the room to find it disappointingly plain. A desk, chairs, lamps, filing cabinets, and other dull objects. Rudolf locked the door and guided Vora to a chair. She sat, and he sat across with nothing in between.
“I know you have questions to ask me, dear daughter. I know you overheard me and the Drowned.” He ignited his pipe. “You always lost at hide and seek. I just let you win,” he said, waving the end of his pipe around.
“So, you are a Dowser.”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Well, before you were born.” He pondered with a skin. Sixteen, I think. No. Fifteen….”
“Does mother know?”
“I hope not, for both our sakes,” he chuckled.
Vora was not amused. “Why?”
“I’ll just simply say, ‘Your father is an idiot,’ and leave it at that.”
Vora leaned in. “Is what that man said true? The world still lives beyond the fog?”
“I’ll stake my life on it.”
“Seems you already are,” Vora replied with disapproval. “All while wearing those tacky masks.”
“They are not that bad.” Rudolf was slightly hurt.
“They are awful.” Vora nodded. “What’s with the numbers?”
“We Dowsers are anonymous. We do not exchange faces and names, only masks and numbers. Though, there are a few I knew the identities of. Nigel was a dear friend…. I knew that one boy’s mother. Klev? Love Bekkan was a wonderful Dowser.”
“One through Ten are for the strongest, then? So what about the rest of them?”
“They are not the strongest; they are the most skilled. They are also the public leaders of the Dowsers and are well respected, too. The other numbers don’t mean anything. Dealer’s choice.”
“What ridiculous number are you?”
“I’m number Zero, Vora. I’m the true leader of the Dowsers.”
“So, Mr. Crowdon and Klev's mom are dead because of your orders.”
After a long pause, Rudolf answered, “No. Not them. I’ve only been Zero for a year. Nigel was Zero before me. He was Zero for decades. He retired a year ago and offered me the spot. I reluctantly took it. Then, only a few months ago, Nigel was murdered.” Rudolf cleared his throat. “No one is forced to be a Dowser. It’s a sacrifice. We all have personal reasons, but the similarities involve the fall of the Burning Bell.”
“So, what if you die? What then? You’ll leave Mother and I alone, grieving over your body.”
“I understand your concern, but do you think your old man would die so easily? I used to be in the Ten Drowned.”
“I don’t care… What number?”
“Eight… Listen, I understand I’m challenging your beliefs, but the Burning Bell is pure evil and will fall. It’s going to take some years to do so.”
“I’ve never had an opinion either way. I disagree with evil, and that’s all. Why can’t we be a normal family?” Vora stood and paced. “You won’t give it up until the Burning Bell is done. Fine. I’ll help you.”
Rudolf put out his pipe. “This wasn’t an invitation. I wanted to clear the air.”
“A Dowser? Eww. No. I have a much more elegant identity.”
Vora held her palm upward, and an explosion of Eoa butterflies fountained to the ceiling and spread about the room. Rudolf's astonishment knocked his chair backward, and he hit the carpeted floor hard. Vora stopped and helped her father up.
“What was even that?” he exclaimed.
“So that Monarch you’ve been hearing about: that’s me. I’m a beautiful witch, and this magic manifests pain in its purest form. I call it Eoa,” Vora grinned proudly at the name. “I’ve been able to feel others’ pain since I was born. I’ve only recently made it useful.”
“You can feel others' pain?” Vora nodded. “How cruel. Who could do this to my little girl?”
“It’s what I am; no one did it to me. Now, I still need some practice, but in a week or two, I could help you end all this.”
“You’re not helping me with anything.” Rudolf grabbed his daughter’s shoulders. “I want you to stop using these powers. Please stop this Monarch nonsense. It’s dangerous.”
“If I could turn this off, I would.” Vora formed a butterfly on her fingertip. “I’m gaining control by being Monarch. You were doing dangerous stuff at fifteen. Probably younger. I can help you.”
“I will not weaponize my daughter! It’s made worse that you must suffer to use this horrible magic. We can find a way to free you from this. I know a few Dowsers who are scientists and doctors.” Rudolf pulled a key from his neck and opened a secret drawer in the wall. He pulled out a candlestick phone and began to dial. “I’ll make you better, honey.”
“It won’t help. I’ve looked into it to the best of my ability. Stop dialing.” Vora pulled her hair and screeched in frustration. “I’ll control my powers and destroy the Burning Bell to stop this nonsense. If you won’t help, don’t get in my way.”
Vora stomped out of the house. Rudolf did his best to stop her, but his back pain crippled him in the hallway. Vora ran down the street with her back on fire as well.