Ethria 3: The Liberator

by Holloway, Aaron

  I shook myself and refocused on what was happening. The Priest of the Dead God had nearly finished his explanation and had lowered his arms, bringing them to rest on the shoulders of the two lieutenants standing closest to Quinn. This had the odd effect of enfolding Quinn in what looked like an awkward air-hug.

  “With the legal requirements for my exercise of authority having been met.” The little man glared daggers back at his fellow clergy, who could only huff in annoyance. “I claim dominion over the souls of these men should they accept the oath pact about to be placed before them. Wizard Rayid Tear has offered you membership in an Army of Vengeance against the dread sorcerer who has plagued these lands for far too long under the,” The small cleric paused. Just for a moment, looking for the right word. “Distracted and unaware eyes of my fellow clergy from noble orders.” That dang near set three of the four Dominus clerics into muted apoplectic fits that were as amusing to watch as it was filled with rage. I admit, a smile crossed my face as I found the fourth priest standing next to the man in red, beaming a smile as bright as a sunrise.

  Those two want to see the Dead Gods clerics actually doing something. Why are the others so angry? I thought before realizing exactly why. Power. Their authority over the city was, even in this small way, being challenged, and they hated it.

  “Wizard Rayid! Do pay attention!” The small, black-robed cleric hissed at me. I looked down and found he had one hand on Quinn’s head, and another held out to me.

  “Ah, I apologize.” I took the priest’s hand, and a screen appeared in my vision.

  Gre’don the Dark Priest is attempting to form an Oath Pact between you and 46 men, and 9 women combatants, and 37 non-combatants under their care. Warning: The effects of such a bond are far-reaching, potentially even beyond the grave. Those who enter an Oath Pact will be bound to obedience to your word by an Oath under the Dead Gods Law as the Oath Keeper. Be fairly warned, however, they are still human with wills, and agency of their own. Free to break or keep any oaths as they will. Their actions shall reflect upon you, and vis versa. Your honor shall be theirs, and their deeds shall be yours. Your power shall be theirs, and their strength shall be yours. Your will shall be theirs, and their will shall be yours.

  Oath Pact Participants:

  Oath Givers

  39 Men / 6 Women - Criminal Mark (Repeat Offender - Misdemeanor)

  6 Men / 3 Women - Criminal Mark (Repeat Offender - Felony, Moderate to Severe)

  37 - non-combatants

  Oath Keeper

  Wizard (Daniel) Rayid Tear

  Warning: This oath might synergize with your Cosmic Gift “Oaths Reclaimed” in unknown ways to be discovered.

  Do you consent to allowing this process to begin? Yes / No.

  I really hope I’m right about these guys, I thought as I mentally selected Yes.

  “I begin the process. The cleric said, in a normal voice. Magic poured out of him, dark magic tinged with something new, and yet somehow familiar.

  Death magic? What in the world? But it was too late for me to back out, the magic swam over me, and a think black and brown tether appeared connecting me with every person in the band of prisoners. I could feel them, their emotions, though not their thoughts. Most of them were cold, fearful, and yet hopeful.

  “Feel them, see if they are ones you can accept,” the cleric whispered to me. And I did just that. I took in the entire web of connections, allowing myself to feel their emotions first as a combined thing. As I did, one emotion seemed to undergird all of their feelings. Almost to a member, they were afraid for others, loved ones that were hidden somewhere they thought was safe. Those they cared deeply for. Those they felt responsible for.

  I knew it; I thought as a smile crossed my face. I was about to open my eyes and celebrate, when there were suddenly two pings through that line of something different. Something far darker, almost acidic. I let my mind travel through the connections until I felt it again. The ping of something I knew to be toxic.

  Anger, hatred, and a desire to harm others. Not out of revenge, or a desire for justice, but out of a sickening feeling of needing to fill an empty hole in their heart. Someone was deeply ill among those who I was about to bind myself to. Someone I wanted nothing to do with. Someone who should be put in a dark room with four padded walls and never allowed to go anywhere near another living thing again.

  It was only an instant, and suddenly light filled that void. The person, whoever it was, radiated love and kindness for everyone and everything around them. The pit, that unfathomable hole, was still there, just swapped out for whatever this was. It felt genuine; it felt real, the light and the hope, but then so had the darkness. And then it shifted again. This time it was the feeling of an old man, one who had lived too long and wanted only to rest. Then another shift, and another, each a unique flavor of person rather than a shifting of emotions.

  I see, I thought, and I moved away from that individual. Someone has multiple personality disorder, or something like it at least. I’ll see what we can do for them. But then there had been that second ping, the other source of that same emotion. I went hunting for it again. What felt like hours later, I found it. It was a single person, kneeling on the stairs. They felt shame, not anger. Deep and abiding shame for something they had done.

  It was a new emotion for me to sense in this raw, nearly all-consuming connection I had with these people. But as I grew used to it I found it was common. Nearly every person it connected me to had some level of shame. Some level of that searing pain in the soul that told you what you had done had hurt others and broken eternal truths laid down at the foundation of the universe that then was twisted into a form of destructive self hatred. As I looked at myself, I knew I felt it as well. Every mistake, every time I had felt jealousy, rage, or some other passion I couldn’t control, I felt guilty and ashamed. If I didn’t have a largely healthy outlook on life, if I didn’t have hope, that shame would have consumed me. But this person, they had hurt someone. Someone they cared about. Their sins were grave, and they knew it. I knew I couldn’t have this person hanging around in this state. There was only one thing to do.

  I mentally broke the connection with everyone there and gently removed the cleric’s hand from mine. “I and they are not ready yet. There is something that needs to be done first. Before I can give or take any oath in good and clear conscience.” The cleric nodded and stepped away for a moment. Hushed whispered ran through the crowd, both among the prisoners and among those looky loos who looked on, looing at us. I sat down on the stairs and folded my legs Indian style, then motioned for the priest to do likewise. He did, if hesitantly. Then I tapped the shoulder of the man I suspected had been the one I felt through the connection.

  “Excuse me, what is your name?” The man looked up from where he was kneeling on the hard stone steps. His face was clean shaven, but that might not have been intentional. A massive fire scar covered nearly half his face.

  “Why?” He asked, his voice raspy and filled with indignation. But I smiled at him and urged him to speak. After looking around, then back at me and realizing he really didn’t have any other choice, he answered me. “My name is Teric.”

  “And where are you from, Teric?”

  “From the southern duchy. Just across the border with the Federation.”

  “And who is it you harmed, Teric?” I asked. My voice still kind as I kept my expression as non-judgmental as I could.

  “What, what do you mean?” Teric asked, his voice filled with near panic.

  “Come now, child, I felt it when I made the bond too. Do not lie to the wizard. You hurt someone you care for, and the shame is destroying you.” The small, black-robed man next to me patted the stone steps and urged him to sit. “All of you, please sit. I will not have you damage your knees for the sake of ceremony.” I was growing to like this little cleric I had befriended. Teric eventually took a seat on the steps as soon as he saw Quinn do the same.

  “So?” I urged. The man’s
eyes went wide and filled with tears. He whipped away with a rough and calloused hand.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “It is if my soul is going to be connected to yours.” I said, still tying to keep my voice even and calm.

  The cleric cleared his throat and spoke again. “Redemption begins with the first step, always has and always will. Confession.” Silence hung between all of us for a long moment before Teric spoke.

  “I, I don’t know if I can talk about it.” I kept my mouth firmly shut and let the cleric do his job.

  “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to yourself. I am here to listen. And our friend here I suspect, is here to do the same.” The man held out another few seconds before chocking back a sob.

  “I, It was my—My, my little girl.” He sobbed for a while after that as everyone there waited to hear the rest of the confession. I reserved my horror, as I wanted to hear the rest before I made my judgement. A whole minute later, I know because I kept track on my HUDs clock. The man regained composure enough to speak. Quinn sat next to him, and the other lieutenant patted Teric’s shoulder as they attempted to comfort their friend. Lending him what little strength they could to finish his confession.

  “We. Oh gods, I don’t know if I can say it.” Teric looked to Quinn. “Can, can you tell it?” Quinn looked to the priest, who didn’t respond. Quinn started saying something, but Teric interrupted. “No, I—I think I can tell it. I, I killed my daughter.” Silence filled the air as thick as the snow that was falling. Though the magic of the city melted most of it, enough snow fell at its heart that everything was dusted in a thin white layer.

  “Why?” The priest asked. His voice filled with nothing but invitation.

  “I was with my first caravan of refugees, heading to the coast. We all hoped to grab a ship and passage to the north. Away from Tor and away from the Federation and their slavers.” He practically spat the last word. A sentiment of disgust that in principle I agreed with. “We were crossing the Dain. A uh, a rather large, but shallow and warm river that cuts the duchy in half. It’s only really deep right in the middle, where it gets to about midway up to a grown man’s chest.

  The rest of the river was filled with tall grasses and reeds we used for cover. Slavers had been hounding us for days. They had tracked us all the way from our hometown. We didn’t know this at the time but they were herding us to the Dain, where they had river boats that could catch us with nets. Like fish.” He choked up, and it took him a few seconds to recompose himself.

  “We got halfway through the deep part when the boats appeared like lightning. They grabbed women, children, old men, even caught some of the livestock in the nets. Me and my wife and daughter got through the gauntlet to the other side. We hid in the reeds, waiting for the slavers to leave. But somehow, they knew we were there. They stayed, hunting us. If we got up to run through the shallows, they would have spotted us. Killed me, and took them both alive for God’s above only know.

  We stayed hidden for hours, and nothing changed. My daughter was less than a year old, she got hungry and, and she started crying. Their search lights started looking all around us. I had no choice. It, it was her or, or my wife and I. I watched her crying until she didn’t cry anymore.” He stopped, unable to continue.

  “So, you drowned your daughter in the river, to save yourself and wife from a life of slavery.” The priest said. More a statement than a question. Teric nodded, unable to speak. Grief riddled his features.

  “His wife took her own life a month later. After they had boarded a ship to Gul-haven.” Quinn said, his voice low and severe. “That’s where I found him in a drunken stupor. Branded by the local guards for refusing to leave because he has a pervolin bloodline.”

  I swallowed, unwilling to trust myself to speak. The priest reached a hand out and touched Teric’s shoulder. “What you did, you did to save your life and that of your wife. You took life, to save life. The grief you feel at the passing of your wife and daughter is mixed with your shame at being unable to defend them any other way. I see this truth, and the God of the Dead sees it too.” The priests’ words were whispered so only we could hear them. It was the first time I had ever heard anyone speak of the dead god as actually doing, or being anything other than, well, dead. I felt like I had just witnessed something moderately heretical, but somehow it also felt right. “He has walked with your family to the halls of the dead. Where they happily await you.”

  I looked at the little cleric in astonishment, hoping he wasn’t saying what I thought he was saying. But what I found was his eyes were an unnatural milky white, and his smile was genuine and concerned. “And they would be happier if they kept waiting. That when you meet again, you would have more stories to tell. More laughter to impart, and more lessons to teach. Will you stay with us and do your best to atone for the sins you have committed since?”

  The theology of the Dead God, heck, even Dominus, was totally foreign to me. I did not know what any of this meant, but whatever was going on, I knew it meant something major to the men sitting with me. Toric was at a crossroads of a sort, and now was his time of choosing. He slowly reached a hand out and took the priest’s hand in his own. “I will, and I do.” With that, I suddenly felt like something had come to a close. The decision had been made, and a soul had been set on a different path. For good or ill, I didn’t know.

  I cleared my throat before I spoke. “In my faith the first step on repentance and redemption is confession of the sin as the priest has said. But particularly confession to God. Only sometimes using the help of someone who can guide you through that process.” I patted the priest on the shoulder. “You have done this. I would count it an honor to accept you as an oath participant.” I stood and shook off the snow from my cloak.

  “But first, I think there are more that might need to take advantage of your services, priest?” I said and gestured towards the roughly 50 men and women patiently waiting out in the cold. “If you would hear their confessions, and send them inside, I would appreciate it. Might be good to do this oath business out of the snow and away from prying eyes, yes?” I was about to leave, but then stopped remembering the other person who concerned me. “Watch out for someone who.” I didn’t know how to describe the issue. “Switches personalities. They might need help of a different kind. One that should not be provided on the road.”

  The priest examined me, trying to see if I was lying to him. After a moment he sighed, agreed. “Such people are rare, but we have ministrations that might aid him. If it is magical in nature, it will be much easier to heal. Natural maladies of the mind so deep require a specialist. It is one of the few areas of healing where mundane and alchemical treatment methodology is more advanced than magical.”

  “Understood, thank you.” He smiled and snapped his fingers. The two knights, whose faces I couldn’t see inside their thick black and intimidating heavy platemail, opened the door for me. I strode in, Teric following close behind.

  ---

  It was noon, and the bells in all the cathedral chapels and temples rang just as the oath pact was formed. The notifications I received were as cryptic as they were unhelpful. Warning that only I could release them from their oaths, and that their actions would reflect upon me anywhere I went. I stood in front of them now, at the front of the pews in the chapel, as they all shuffled in their seats uncertainly.

  “So, where is your camp and the people you are all so eager to get back to?” I asked, voice booming in the chapel. “Wow, this place has great acoustics.” I said, modulating my voice down to a normal level. “Look, I’m really busy right now. So, I’m going to let y’all leave the city and go wherever your camp is. Get your families and friends all packed up. I’ll find you all a place to stay, but out in the woods where the other bandits know where you’re at? After they left y’all to die out there trying to frame you? That will not be a safe place for your loved ones.” The crowd of men and women erupted into shouting, motion towards the door,
and cries of alarm. I tried to restore calm by shouting, but that didn’t help matters.

  They couldn’t leave, really, not with the six black knights that patrolled the halls and the two that were standing at the exits of the chapel. But they might accidentally break something, something I didn’t want to have to pay to replace. “Quinn! Get your people calm!” I shouted over the cacophony.

  A sharp whistle broke the silence and nearly shattered my eardrums. Everyone there, except the knights, winced in pain and looked at Quinn, who was standing on a pew. One leg raised on its back end like a pirate standing on his ships rigging. I sighed internally, not knowing what the Death God thought of as disrespectful, but pretty sure that standing on seats and jumping back and forth in the heart of his chapel probably qualified.

  “Hey! Shut up and listen to the god’s damned wizard!”

  I’m sure that shouting obscenities would go over well with the pious brothers of the Dead God. “Thanks, thanks for that, Quinn. Alright look. Your people are probably safe right now, but they won’t be in short order. So, I’m going to send my friend here.” I motioned to Ailsa. Who was flying in loops and giggling madly as she danced in the streams of colored light created by the stained glass windows. “She’s going to help you all get to the city gates safely. With this.” I raised the compact bundle of three rods that I was using to control the golems. “These control rods, will let us call allies. Ailsa will take those allies with a small group of you to help bring in your families behind the city walls. The rest of you are going to the Traser estate and setting up camp there.”

  “What are YOU going to be doing?!” someone shouted.

  “As I said, I’m busy!” I shouted back, anger coming out a bit. The crowed of ex-cons stilled and I continued. “I have other people to visit today. You all sidetracked me from my actual work. Not that I’m grateful for that, it would have just been some stuffy meetings with nobility. But still! I have a lot of work to catch up on. So do my other friends.” I motioned to Tol’geth and Traser who were waiting impatiently by the Death Knight at the front entrance. “Trust me, I’ll be back before you guys get back. And if I’m not, Ailsa will make sure you’re safe until I do. Now, before I go, I have a few rules I’m going to need all of you to follow.” They all groaned collectively, and I grinned.