by J. S. Volpe
* * *
In a clearing in the woods midway between Moe’s Tavern and the Millisin River, the three Yellow Pawns stood facing each other in a triangle.
“Before undertaking this endeavor, it is meet to offer our thanks and prayers for success to our great and faceless king,” said Brother Tantora, the leader of this, the local branch of the infamous sect. He was tall and lanky, with a big beaky nose, wild eyes shadowed by bushy black brows, and a collection of warts.
He raised his arms to the cloudy night sky and said, “Oh, mighty King in Yellow, he who lurks in the void, king of nothing, slayer of gods and stars, hear our prayers. Grant us success in this journey that we, your humble servants, perform in your name and to further your aims.”
Brother Wisswick took up the prayer. He was in his twenties, only half the age of Brother Tantora, but the light of zealotry burned just as fiercely in his large, moist brown eyes.
“Oh, Great Dissolver, he who waits at the end of all things, unconquerable nothingness that resides behind the false face of the universe, hear our prayers. Grant us a true path to this rumored block of gold that we may use it to further your ends, to advance the universe closer to its inevitable and glorious extinction.”
Sister Moshi, the third member of their group, shifted her weight from one foot to another, emitted a small impatient sigh, and said, “Is this shit really necessary?”
The two men stared at the diminutive young woman. She stared back at them with a bored expression. She was an Ajin, that subgroup of humanity often distinguished by straight black hair, tan skin, and monolid eyes. There were so few of them in Glí that people often stopped and gawked at her when she was out in public. Some of those people assumed she was a member of a different and presumably hostile species and treated her accordingly. She cited this as one of the key reasons for her decision to join the Yellow Pawns.
“Excuse me?” said Brother Tantora. His low, ominous tone said that he knew exactly what she had said, but wanted to give her an opportunity to recant it.
She didn’t.
“I said, ‘Is this shit really necessary?’ I mean, all this ritualistic bullshit is just, well…” She shrugged. “Bullshit.”
The ends of Brother Wisswick’s jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth. Had he clenched them any harder his molars would have shattered.
“Your words edge dangerously close to blasphemy,” he hissed.
Sister Moshi gave him a disbelieving raise of her eyebrows.
“You do realize that the King in Yellow represents a denial and negation of any and all systems, while a claim of blasphemy implies a deviation from a religious/ethical system, which is, y’know, a total fucking contradiction.”
Brother Wisswick’s eyes widened. The ends of his jaw were now bulging rhythmically like the throat of a croaking bullfrog.
He whirled toward Brother Tantora. “She blasphemes, does she not?”
Brother Tantora opened his mouth to respond, but Sister Moshi broke in instead.
“Look,” she said, “there’s nothing blasphemous about it because there’s no such thing as blasphemy. I mean, Xiggon himself said so in The Answer. Most of chapter six is devoted to a scathing denunciation of all religious worship and belief, even those directed toward the King in Yellow himself. He put it best at the end of that chapter: ‘Ultimately even the Twelve themselves will be gone, and the universe will grind to its inevitable halt. Worship nothing, for in the end nothing will prevail.’”
The two men stared at her, Brother Wisswick with his jaw still clenching and a vein pulsing on his left temple, Brother Tantora with a thoughtful frown.
“That…that is…” Brother Wisswick pinched his lips together into a thin white line and shook his head, his eyes never leaving Sister Moshi’s. Then, unexpectedly, his face broke into a condescending smile. “I suppose it is too much to expect one as young as yourself to fully understand the words of the great Xiggon.”
Sister Moshi scowled at him. “Okay, first of all, I’m only three years younger than you. Second of all, I’m not misunderstanding anything. While it might not be explicitly stated, it’s perfectly clear that Xiggon considered the notion of blasphemy to go hand-in-hand with the notion of religion. In other words, you can truly blaspheme against something only if you believe in that something in a religious sense, and religious belief is irrefutably bullshit.”
By now Brother Wisswick’s face had turned an alarming shade of red. The vein in his temple was fluttering faster than a hummingbird’s wings. He stabbed one bony index finger at Sister Moshi. “You speak nothing but nonsense.”
“That’s not true!”
“Yes it is!”
“It is not! Have you even read The Answer?”
Brother Wisswick’s mouth opened, shut, opened, shut, and then he jabbed his finger at her again. “I have no need to read it. I have been educated perfectly well in the school of real life. I do not need books to show me the truth. It is evident all around us every day.”
Sister Moshi regarded him with narrow eyes for a moment, then smirked and planted her fists on her hips. “I’ll bet you can’t even read, can you?”
“I can read!”
“Yeah, right.”
“I can!” [2]
“Silence!” barked Brother Tantora. “Your argument, like all things, is completely pointless. But it is also needlessly delaying us, and thus it must stop now.”
Brother Wisswick pointed his finger at Sister Moshi again. “But she—”
“I said silence!” he bellowed. Spit sprayed from his lips and spattered the fronts of both Brother Wisswick’s and Sister Moshi’s black robes. He glared at his two fellow Yellow Pawns, then his face softened and he gave them a small, indulgent chuckle. “The brashness of youth. I remember it well. I thought I knew everything myself at your age.” He looked up at the dark gray clouds covering the sky, sighed, and said, “In your own ways, you are both correct.” He fixed his gaze on Brother Wisswick. “Your sister in darkness is correct that prayers and ceremonies are as futile as everything else, and that now was probably not the best time to engage in them, since speed is of the essence if we are to acquire the gold.” He turned then to Sister Moshi, “However, you brother is correct to insist on prayer and ceremony, futile though it is. Such activities serve to remind us of what we do and why we do it. They are an important means of ensuring that all brothers and sisters of darkness keep their hearts and minds focused upon the proper path.” He eyed the two of them with an avuncular smile. “Do you understand?”
Brother Wisswick and Sister Moshi bowed their heads and said, “Yes, Brother Tantora.”
“Good. Let us go, then. And if anyone gets in our way, we shall bestow upon them the bliss of nonexistence.”
Brother Wisswick grinned, obviously hoping lots of anyones got in their way.
Sister Moshi just said, “Yeah, cool.”
They strode out of the clearing and into the woods, their black-clad forms quickly merging with the darkness.
