Chapter 16: A Belief Unbound (Part 1!)

I feel it's needed to remind you of my alignment. I am no neutral party, like all other people on these planes. But in terms of what people I support, I do have favorites. In particular the Iozians and the Tripolians. Shameful, really it is. Outside the many and multiple worlds, I choose two. Just as I feel a horrible insecurity when it comes to Ani.

We are both awful, and prefer certain perspectives on the distinctive cultures that these governments are made up by. But it must be known what we are. Judges of people we’ll never truly know.

Beliefs are these unknowing judges, while truth is the evidence that saves the condemned. I will not dispute the benefit of certain beliefs, but there are some that are confused or brittle to conflict. Plenty of them enforce these silly binaries. Like mortal and divine, or ruler and citizen. The only one that is an actual truth is good and evil.

I wouldn’t be so antagonizing of these beliefs if they were adaptive or bendable. Far too often when opposed, these systems of expectations rupture like a failed heart. Just like Ani and I, these ideas haven’t survived the test of time, they’ve only cheated it.

Skaldi held Valiato close, scanning the temple for any clergy members who spit at his arrival. Valiato was noticeably more excited, more than when she went to a cathedral. She enjoyed the maintained form of it rather than the bloated corpse of the precious establishment. But compared to them Liai was in a terrible stupor.

The vestal took in all of what Skaldi was. A violation to the young priestess' view on a man. Most Kai Ren men, not too different to the ones in this town, were wearing shoulder suspended cloaks and ankle length pants, all of the off white color of wool or cloth. Of the few that wore just shirts and trousers were that of the military, laborers, or farmers.

There was a specific hierarchy of classes for Iozians, and especially for these Kai Ren. You could gauge the wealth and status of an Iozian by the color and the length of their clothing. Most poor folk wore either black and grays, but the Oligarchs did have government supplied red dyes. Of all the policies they put in place, their favorite color red being available for all people, freeman or citizen, was the only one.

And the more wasteful and squandering use of clothing, meant the richer of Iozian. For the Sanguains was the Toga, the equivalent in terms of use was the vampiric suit. This twenty foot length of wool was so complicated, that the aristocrats had purchased slaves to maintain its elegant folds. The Kai Ren instead performed the Hanfu, the combination of jackets, skirts, and body garments galore. Definitely not contributing pain to the system of slavery, but absolutely causing pain to noble men wearing it.

What the vestal saw was a man, in all of his effeminate terror, shaven and wearing pants in a traditional Kai Ren temple.

Now this may seems foolish, but you must understand, shaving was very important to these Kai Ren. Truely a matter of national security.

Beards and pants were of very high moral conflict at this time. Firstly, beards were a badge of masculinity, and the maintaining of one showed one's rank. Although it varied from time to time, the preferred form was long mustaches and well trimmed beards. Even if it was drifting down to one’s chest or a few whiskers on the chin, they were valued.

This manly ideal couldn’t be succeeded by most Kai Ren men, as it was unnatural for them to summon any facial hair. Poor men couldn’t get the treatment needed but richer men could. Another sign of status that the poorer men envied. Not that I wished they did, I personally enjoyed the sight of hairless Kai Ren men in my company. Pretty moon skin, clean and milky, and lovely to touch. What was I saying? Ah right…

Kai Ren did tend to differ with this value compared to the Matigas and the Sanguians, as they preferred a full shave. At one point a Sanguian Oligarch outright banned mustaches. But when visiting a Kai Ren aristocrat, it was recommended to at least have a stubble.

Pants however, depending on style, bespoke outsider cultures, specifically the Tripolians. Of their overwhelming numbers, destroying, killing, and most disgustingly, wearing pants.

Overtime, the Iozians gave up the good fight and decided to wear pants. For what reason? Because the Tripolians spared the thought for pockets.

This fight wasn’t given up in the religious space, as the vestal feared. Skaldi with his red hair, his red pants, and his sprinkled red face was opposing the institution by just existing. Again, you may think it silly but remember this. It is often that certain peoples existing is a call for war among groups.

“So… do you have the powder? Because if you just hand it over we can get out of your hair.” Luai stuttered out. Tai was laughing hysterically, pounding the ground hard. Luai knew that the mischievous demon was aiming to cause disorder, but attempted to cease it.

“Got it, Fitanon was it?” Skaldi pulled a bag from his pocket.

“Good! Now just hand to me and you can leav-”

“Hey Ska! Can we go look around? I haven’t been to a temple before, and I want to check it out.” Valiato said, much to the vestal’s dismay. Skaldi stared at Luai for a moment, judging her face. She wasn’t yelling at him to get out, that was new. Brushing his hair aside using only his thumb, Skaldi considered.

“Sure. If it doesn’t bother the girl here. Does it?” Skaldi was refreshed by this new circumstance, he also never got to explore a temple fully.

“Ah… no! No it does not! Because if it did, I wouldn’t have let you in here…”

“Cool! Can you please show us around, pretty lady?” Valiato’s quick and unassuming compliment stabilized the heart of the vestal. She knew that they were not the stereotypical outsiders. But that idea, she felt, wouldn’t get into the priestess’s mind.

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“Luai, you’re taking a long time with the door, who is it-” Florato turned the corner and saw her two companions.

“Hey you two! What are you guys doing here? Did Luai let you in?” Florato rushed over and spoke with a faint confusion.

“Yeah, she was kind enough to let an elf and the kid here to take a look around. Also, this little gal told us to bring some powder for the feast.” Skaldi pointed to Tai. Tai snapped her fingers back at him.

Luai’s mind was racing, trying to find an amicable way for the priestess and the outsiders to maneuver this situation.

The vestal made good friends with the actress, but she could tell that the priestess wouldn’t like it. These Kai Ren had a beauty standard that fiercely opposed Florato. That being no tig bitties. Small breasts were considered attractive here, and again the Sanguians and Matigas Natao argued this against considerably.

I must remind the student reading this that beauty has no effect on the greatness of a people. Physical beauty is supplemental but not essential.

Once in my travels in the Oligarchy, I was in the company of some wisemen and they were in a debate. Not over aiding their comrades in a wartorn region, or the meaning of life, not those silly things. They were arguing over the ideal size of titty. I remember a Matigas man who eventually won the argument saying a most excellent line.

“A women’s chest should be so large that they have to bend forward due to the weight.”

Yes, this was indeed said in the company of wisemen. Large breasted sisters, the men rigged the fucking game against us.

The men later unanimously agreed that large buttocks were ideal, again, with me being the only woman in the group. Not that they cared to ask me for my opinion, with me being the one with the so beloved chest sacks.

I would complain further but I was of great youth and attractiveness to these Iozians. I was statuesque if you could imagine. A fine umber skin, luxurious curls and drills for hair. And yes, to the men reading this, very tig bitties. But that didn’t matter because I had a flat ass so the men didn’t bother to offer marriage.

Seriously, I had yellow eyes! I know I was thirty at the time, but come on! I could have still bore children. Honestly, having only guys as your friends does a number to your self esteem. Let alone the numerous self image issues that it leaves in your wake.

What was I talking about? Ah yes, Florato having boobs and the priestess not liking that.

Before I continue, I must tell the truth or I’ll lose my mind. Women, your chests are not a matter of public opinion. They belong to you.

Luai knew Florato’s great kindness, but she also knew that the priestess would reply with hatred tenfold. Considering these outrageous characters, Luai devised a plan. She could tell that the priestess would end the scarecrow’s path of healing their fracture if she saw one of them mingling with her. So she decided that it would be best if the party finished preparing the ceremony, while she distracted the priestess.

“Okay, you all can go up stairs and help with the feast.” The vestal croaked out, and stared daggers at the demon, “And Tai Pai can show you around while I finish taking care of Mother. Tai Pai will not, under threat of holy water, attempt any mischief.”

“Why are you telling that to us?” Skaldi questioned.

“No reason. Tai, give them a good look around and get the powder back to Vega!” Luai raced down the hall, exiting in disorderly fashion.

“Wait, Vega’s here? Can we go see her Skaldi?” Valiato jumped up and down. Skaldi was not pleased but he nudged Tai.

“Mind?”

“Gotcha, one scarecrow coming up!” The demon soared upward, and within seconds held Vega up like a cat holding on the neck of a kitten.

“Shall we start?”

The party was led by the flying demon, as she transformed the pious history of the temple into lewd and vulgar descriptions.

“Here we have the dildo cabinet. Once Recor ordained in the sky for everyone to go fuck themselves, and so the whole temple did.” What she was actually pointing to was old scrolls written by chaste clergy members. And I can confirm, none of them did indeed fuck themselves.

“Cool-cool. But I have a question, why are all the statues naked?” Vega queried, confused by the various species depicted in marble. Some werefolk, some human. Some human men. Some Kai Ren men… Delicious shoulders, and rock hard abs to pair… I think I’m starting to lose it…

Plenty of Kapre oddly. But they all seemed to be united under the banner of lacking clothes.

“That? Well, they were built in a time where nudity was acceptable.” She wasn’t right. The only reason that the statues remained was because a century ago the temple hired a man to castrate them. He emasculated the men with a single blow. Stripping away femininity with a strike. None were spared. I believe his name was Garrett or something.

“The reason for this was because the artists were all homosexuals.” And Tai lies again. No one in the group believed this, even little Valiato. But the scarecrow did.

“Look Skaldi, the-the artists are just like you!” Vega said with great enthusiasm. Tai giggled and tried to regain her composure.

“Yes. Now here is the spirit Silphuos.” On the wall was a riot of colors and mosaic depicting a wild woman with thin stalks for limbs and a flowery bulb for a head.

Skaldi preemptively put his hands on Valiato’s ears, ready for Tai to say another cruelty.

“Silphuos hates babies.” Tai spoke. It wasn’t correct, but got the point across. This spirit in her infant age, created a supposed miracle plant. When fed to animals, it fattens them. When made into perfume, it spreads soothing auras. And as the Iozians discovered, healed bites and poison.

The plant Silphium was almost immediately picked to extinction, but with a little encouragement, Silphuos fostered its growth every three years.

One problem. It was a natural contraceptive. The Iozians, on learning this, celebrated. Silphuos was thus the only named infertility and health spirit. Compared to Nemesis's potential two hundred and sixty infertility devils. But that didn’t matter to the Oligarchy, as the family became more of a choice because of her.

From poor unmarried women, to prostitutes trying to survive, or a rich family trying to secure only a few heirs, this plant was used and worshiped. Sometimes on Oligarch coins the plant's image is used instead of the spirit.

Don’t let this plant’s mere presence fool you. Not this plant, nor any could save enough families from the heartbreak of unwanted children. If the father didn’t wish for a child, it would be brought to a public place or a field beyond their home. Yet, this abandonment wasn’t always a death sentence.

These babes could be picked up and nursed to health and survive to adulthood. Afterall, there were four hundred spirits for childhood and hundreds for protection against youth attacking diseases. Plenty of these spirits became notable after the Oligarchy discovered the Tripolian’s immense size.

But their survival, especially now, didn’t grant them a life of acceptance. Many of them grew up to be slaves, wretched miners or prostitutes. All of them deemed ghosts, people that have died but still lived to haunt.

For all Iozians, an extra mouth to feed could spell doom. While abandoning a child was a calculated choice, it wasn’t never a celebrated one. Let’s appreciate there are songs of Silphuos, and not to leaving your kids to ghosthood, shall we?

“Cool! Is she your mom-mom?” Vega didn’t know the relationships between spirits and nymphs and sprites.

“No, Nemesis is my mom. Well technically she’s my grandma, but that doesn’t matter. Silphuos tried to make this plant that made dicks too small to go in girls, but ended up making them too big. So whenever you eat the plant, your dick is too big to have babies.”

“What’s a dick Ska?” Valiato called out.

“Something I like a lot.” Skaldi calmly spoke.