May I Enjoy My Life Entry 32

1100/8/4

Bars are usually one of my favorite places to be. And no, it’s not just because you can get wasted, though that is fun, but because you can hang out with your friends, and dance, sing, and party the night away! I’ve spent a lot of time in bars with Texas, Sora, Croissant, and of course, Boss! Heck, Penguin Logistics owns the Ends of the Earth, and it’s basically our HQ!

Which was why El Garfio y el Grito was such a total bummer! The lightning sucked, there was no decor to speak of, the floor was old planks with so many stains you had to wonder if your feet would stick in the gunk, and they only had beer! Iberian beer! At least have something GOOD, like a Rim Billington Pale Ale or a Leithanien lager. I mean, I guess it’s not Columbian Light Beer? Blurgh. 

Anyway, we were in this charmingly rustic setting for a hand off. Just me and the girls, and Miss Amiya! Oh, and the girls now included Irene. She didn’t get a vote in this, because she needed to learn to have fun! We were making progress on that front, as she’d added a pink sash to her outfit! So it was me, Mudrock, Surtr, Irene, and Amiya in a bar. I wasn’t totally sure why we were sitting there and drinking Iberian pisswater, but it was fun to chat with Amiya.

Oh, and no beer for Amiya. She got milk, which was the only thing they served aside from beer. Not even a Roi Rogellus or a Sirelia Templar! Seriously, worst bar ever. The bartender was an older Liberi man who couldn’t decide between glaring at us or being scared to death, as he’d probably figured out that Irene was an Inquisitor. Actually, he kept calling me “Lady Inquisitor”, so maybe he thought I was one? I just laughed and asked him if they had any girlie drinks with umbrellas. I think he nearly wet himself when he had to tell me no. 

Though at this moment, I’m having a bit of a heated debate with Irene. 

“-what you’re talking about sounds like Heresy, Exu,” Irene said, frowning at me. 

“Well, then the church is dumb! Besides, I’m not Iberian, I’m Lateran,” I said, with a shrug. “Sarkaz are people too, and aren’t we all just human at the end of the day?”

“...it is the same church. You know this, yes?” Irene said, shaking her head at me. “I would not have thought a Sankta to be an apostate. Though I suppose I should not be surprised, after how you acted back at the Monastery.”

“Well, you’ve hung out with Mudmud and Surtr, so you know Sarkaz aren’t automatically evil!” I huffed, stabbing the table with my finger. “No more than Aegir are!” 

“I…” Irene trailed off, looking uncomfortable. 

“Oh, so now you’re going to tell me that Behemot and Surtr are evil!?” I demanded hotly. 

“No!” Irene snapped, then sighed and rubbed her forehead. “No, the problem, Exu, is that you are making too much sense. I…I never thought too hard about why the Islanders and the Devils were evil and should be destroyed. I just did it. But now…now I am wondering…what if the reason so many of them join the Church of the Deep is because we have driven them to it by denying them the Light of the Law?”

“See!? Exactly! We’re all just people, Irene! Sankta, Liberi, Sarkaz…I mean, would you still be friends with me if I said I were a Sarkaz?”

“I…yes. I think I would,” Irene admitted. 

“Well, good. Because I am,” I leaned across the table, expression as serious as I could make it. Which, uh, I have been told still makes me look like a kid planning mischief, but I try, OK?  “Look, Sarkaz and Sankta are actually the same race! I just have this nightlight over my head instead of horns and a tail! But, you should see my friend Mostima! She’s got horns and a tail, and no one says she isn’t Sankta!” 

“You can’t be drunk yet, you’ve only had two beers,” Irene said, frowning at me. 

“Irene! It would take way more than two beers to get me even buzzed,” I protested, mildly offended. 

“So you say,” Irene sighed, which was when Amiya came back with Surtur and Mudrock. They’d been looking for someone who had a package, but Amiya was the only one of us who knew who it was, and wasn’t talking much. “She’s drunk, don’t listen to her.”

“Oh? What’s Exu saying today?” Surtr asked as they sat down with their own drinks. 

Irene blushed and waved it off. “Oh, she’s saying she’s Sarkaz or some such nonsense.”

“Yeah? And so what if she is?” Surtr demanded, glaring across the table at Irene. 

“I, you…what?” Irene spluttered. 

She glanced at Mudrock, but good ol’ Mudmud just nodded. “She is Sarkaz.”

“I…Amiya, is insanity mandatory amongst your employees? Because if it is, I might need to reconsider my application,” Irene groaned. “Or are you going to claim to be Sarkaz too?”

Amiya was quiet, while Mudrock and Surtr went suddenly rigid, eyes darting to Amiya. 

Our fluffy bunny mascot quietly sipped her milk for a moment, then carefully set her mug down and met Irene’s eyes. “And what if I am? What would that change about me, about Rhodes Island, Irene? How would our mission to provide Salvation to the Infected and hope to the downtrodden change?”

“I…I guess it wouldn’t? I just…how would people react if I started calling myself a Sankta?” Irene said, looking very uncomfortable. 

“You’d look kinda stupid with a night light over your head,” I told her, draping my arm about her shoulders. “But, who knows? Maybe the Law will feel like granting everyone Halos. Then we could all be Sankta! But that would be kinda boring, so I’d have to pass. You’re more fun as a Liberi!” 

“Just don’t let anyone hear you saying things like that,” Irene lectured. “If I were a less neighborly inquisitor, telling me that Sankta and Sarkaz are the same race could get you burned at the stake!”

“Illogical. The penalty for Heresy has not been Stake Burning since the Conclave of 638. Instead, the properly prescribed penalty under the Law is confiscation of patron firearm and exile. Though in this case, that would not be applicable as Lemuel Exusiai does not reside in Laterano.”

I jumped a full meter in the air and spun about, Scardy and Katt flying into my hands. To my horror, Katt was knocked right out of my left hand. I fired Scardy on impulse, the bullet sending splinters flying as it impacted next to my attacker’s foot. I tried to adjust my aim, but a fist took me in my solar plexus and the breath went out of me. I sank to my knees, wheezing for breath, but Irene had her rapier out and was slashing at our attacker. A shotgun blast sent the blade spinning out of her hands, and Irene, crying out in pain and clutching her hand, though it had been a bean-bag round. 

That was when Surtr knocked the table over, causing two of the bars other patrons to have to scramble out of the way before it smashed into theirs, though our attacker just sidestepped and raised his shotgun, firing another bean-bag at Surtr, who snarled in pain as it smacked into her arm. 

Mudrock waded forward, taking a beanbag to the stomach without flinching, then grabbing the barrel of the shotgun. She looked like she was about to bend the barrel in half, when the notes of a haunting melody on a cello filled the bar. I sort of lost focus for a second there, though in the back of my mind, I was screaming as I watched that smug bitch Arturia saw away. 

“Meddle not in the emotions of my people.”

Amiya’s voice cut through the music and caused the haze of emotions clouding my mind to vanish like a puff of smoke. I surged up, even as Mudrock shook off her stupor, but she was too late, as Federico had yanked away his gun and was pointing it at her head. 

“These rounds are not non-lethal. I apologize, but according to Notarial Hall regulations, when facing Sarkaz, lethal rounds are required to be used,” the Law’s Most Autistic Angel stated matter-of-factly. Then he shifted, drawing a second shotgun, and pointing it at his sister of all people. “You were not authorized to engage your arts on our allies.”

“Mmm, but Fedi, you were fighting them. How could I let my frater fight without helping?” Arturia the Smug asked, lightly drawing her bow across her cello’s strings. 

“I told you not to play with the emotions of my people,” Amiya said calmly, raising a hand and letting black lightning arc between her fingers. “I will not repeat myself gently, Arturia.” 

“You’re all no fun,” Arturia laughed, but lowered her bow. “Well, I suppose instead of fighting, we really should be delivering the package.”

“Yes. I apologize, Lemuen Exusiai. It seems I startled you. That was not my intention,” Federico stated flatly. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m just…jumpy,” I admitted, and let my empathy connect to Fred and Arturia. As usual, I got about as much as you’d get from a brick wall from Fred. It’s not that Fred doesn’t have Empathy, like Mostima, but rather that my rubber fowlbeast back home has more of an emotional range than he does. I used to just think he’s weird, now I’m pretty sure he’s just like Texas and has that autism stuff. 

The difference is, I like Texas. Fred is a complete killjoy. Did you know he once confiscated my homemade party favors and said they were “illegal contraband!?” Seriously, I know those laws are probably on the books and stuff, but no one in Laterano enforces that! We’re a dynamite open carry society, thank you very much! 

I was so mad that I filed a formal complaint! By which I mean I spray-painted his bike hot pink and graffitied “BJ PRINCESS” on his door. You know what he said!?

“My initials are not BJ, nor am I royalty of any sort. I am but a humble servant of Notarial Hall.”

Danger, Rill Wobinson, Danger! Sense of humor not found! 

He did keep the hot pink bike. Said it was “more visible in traffic.” So that was kind of amusing. 

Anyway, the less said about Arturia’s emotions, the better. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with her, but my prognosis is “raging bitch.” 

I am not fond of the Giallo siblings, in case you didn’t realize. I know, I know, I try to be subtle about it.

Oh and they’re technically cousins or whatever, but they grew up together and they’re both complete pains. Also, they fight like Lemuen and I do, but without the fun vibes. 

But I guess I’ll take Empathy where I can get it. Even from the Giallos. 

“Do you have the package?” Amiya asked, calmly stepping forward even as the rest of us picked up our weapons and glared at the Giallos. 

“I do. Aya was cooperative and provided it when I gave my credentials,” Fred said, and produced a small box, which he handed to Amiya. “Additionally, I have a communiqué from his Holiness.”

Amiya took the proffered paper and unfolded it. I tried not to glance at it, but my curiosity nearly got the better of me! Professionalism did win out, but then Amiya held the note out to me. “Exusiai, what do you make of this?”

I took it eagerly and scanned the document, then let out a gasp and read it again more carefully. 

His Eminence 

Saint Yvangelista XI

Apostle of the Law and Pope of Laterno

Dear Amiya of Rhodes Island, 

I greet you in the name of the Law and the people of Laterano, and pray that this letter finds you and all the good people of Rhodes Island well.

I have received the letters from you and Dame Kal’tsit. Their contents trouble me greatly, but they align with my own fears and suspicions. Now is not the time for disunity, nor for strife: Now is the time for the people of all nations and peoples to come together as one, setting aside all old grudges and quarrels. I happily agree to your terms and suggestions. Even now, I pen letters to leaders of every nation, and entrust them to my couriers. Yes, even unto the good folk of Kazdel, and Wiš'adel, whom I have also been in contact with. 

I do not ask that you reveal all your secrets to me at this time, nor do I propose to share all of my own thoughts with you now. Only know that in pursuit of peace and the wellbeing of the Sankta, as well as all of humanity, myself and Laterano stand at the ready to do whatever is necessary to ensure the continuation of all life on Terra, no matter the origin of that life. 

I have heard of this Dr. James McCoy and his efforts, and I applaud them. I myself am greatly troubled by the plight of the Infected of Laterano, and as you know, have worked alongside Rhodes Island to succor those the Law would cast out. Even now, I think perhaps the time has come to set aside those old strictures and to embrace our fellows who suffer in this world, even as we do. 

For your current mission, I send to you two of my Saints: Saint Federico Giallo of Notarial Hall, and his cousin and soror, Arturia Giallo. I know that Federico has cooperated with Rhodes Island in the past, and I encourage the association to continue. He has been granted full papal authority as a Saint, and has been chosen by the Law Himself to act in this matter. 

As for Arturia, Federico will help guide her along the proper path, but the Law has also chosen her as a Saint and His agent. She claims to have confronted and learned from the Witch King himself, which is a disturbing enough proposition on its own. In such times, I fear we will have need of powers even such as hers. 

Law be with you, and your people. I pray that the people of Laterano, and of Terra, will be ready for the revelations that you and Rhodes Island bring. No matter what Catastrophe we face, you will have my support, and that of my office, so long as you strive to bring the light of Dawn to all of Terra. 

From the Pen of His Eminence 

Saint Yvangelista XI

Apostle of the Law and Pope of Laterno

I felt myself hyperventilating, and the paper trembled in my hands. I took back everything I had said about His Holiness. Yvangelista XI did not just have immaculate drip. The man was an icon of everything I aspired to be, and everything I hoped the Sankta would become. 

He knew! His Holiness knew! And he wasn’t just OK with it, he was supportive! I…I didn’t know what to say! I thought he was a stuffy old man, but instead, he was the most progressive person in Laterano! Maybe even more than me! I was going to buy that man a slice of apple pie with char siu!

I looked up at Fred, beaming with delight. He just looked back at me stone-faced. I didn’t care! I jumped forward and gave him a big hug, which took him by surprise enough that he didn’t even try and put me in a submission hold. That, or he could tell I was too gleeful to mean him harm. 

“Do, do you know?!” I gasped, tears in my eyes. 

“I am unaware of the contents of the letter. I am merely the messenger,” Fred said stiffly, not even trying to hug me back. Sheesh, he wasn’t even gay, I could feel the horniness coming off him. And I don’t mean the Empathy. 

I stepped back and grinned up at the beautiful, tall bastard. “About the Sankta! And the Sarkaz!”

“Ah. Yes. I have been informed,” Fred said with a serious nod. 

“Mmm, it seems we will be working together in harmony,” Arturia said, plucking a string on her chello. I was so elated I gave her a hug too! She reacted with more shock and discomfort than even Fred. What a weird family. Most people in Laterano are super big huggers. I mean, we can already share emotions. So we can totally tell when someone needs a hug. I’m bigger than most, but even my Big Sis has been known to hug Sankta she just met. Even…even after the…incident…

“I…was not aware you were so…fond…of me, Lemuel,” Arturia managed, frowning at me as I did a little happy jig. 

“But you KNOW! I’m not alone anymore!” I said, tears streaming down my face. I hurried over, and grabbed Surtr and Mudrock, pulling them forward. I took a deep breath, then said, “Fred, Arturia, these…these are my sisters. Behemoth of the Gargoyles, and Surtr, of, uh…you know, we never talked about what tribe you are?”

“Fucked if I know,” Surtr said, frowning at Arturia and Fred. They were reacting, oddly. Federico had recoiled slightly at me calling Mudmud and Surtr my sisters. Arturia had put her hand over her mouth, which was hanging open, eyes wide. 

“I see. I am Federico Giallo of Notarial Hall,” Federico said, his tone somehow even more stiff and uncomfortable than before. He gestured to Arturia, who still hadn’t recovered. “This is my soror. Arturia Giallo.”

“Lemuel,” Arturia managed, her voice rather strangled. “You…name these two…sisters? Does…does Lemuen the Silent know?” 

“She will,” I said firmly. “And she’ll accept them, too! I just have to tell her about the Apple Pie with Mayonaise!” 

“Apple pie with…” Arturia’s lip curled in disgust, then she shook her head, and bowed, hand and bow over her heart. “Well. I have always believed that people should be liberated from their own suppressed emotions, and I suppose you embody that ideal perfectly. A pleasure, Sister Surtr and Sister Behemot. May the music we create together open the eyes and hearts of all the world!” 

I could feel it! Empathy from both Federico, and Arturia! They weren’t hateful, or even resentful towards Surtur or Mudrock! They accepted them!

“By the Holy Eyes…then, what you said is true?! All of it!?” Irene gasped, going white as a ghost. 

“Every word,” I said firmly. “Right, Mudmud?”

“Indeed. It is time for all the tribes of lost Teekaz to achieve enlightenment together. The time of Disunity, of Weeping, brought on by the poison of our ancient enemy, is to be banished from these lands,” Mudrock agreed.

“Fuck if I know what this shit is about,” Surtr grumbled, then grinned. “But let’s go kill some Seaborn together!” 

Amiya nodded. “Rhodes Island fights to end the threat of Originium to the Infected, to all of Terra, forever. We have that now within our grasp. Come. With the key in hand, it is time to find the lost Stulifera Navis, and reopen the Path of Life once more. We shall reclaim the Arbor, and then, bring Grace to the Law itself.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but I was pretty sure it did mean I was going to get to shoot some seaborn! WOO HOO! Team Apple Pie Godslayer, IS A GO!

As we left the bar, a couple of figures in what amounted to moldy rags approached us. I put my arm between them and Amiya, Victor in my hands immediately. They looked suspicious as hell, and this wouldn’t be the first time the Church of the Deep tried to bushwack us. 

However, Amiya gently brushed my hand aside. “It’s alright, Exusiai. They are not our enemies.”

As they approached, I saw that one of them had a babe in her arms. The other was a filthy little boy, with sunken cheeks. And…and all three of them had the horns of Sarkaz. 

“Please, they said you…you are giving alms! Even…even to the unclean,” the woman begged, stopping several paces from us, and extending a grimy hand. 

Amiya stepped forward, and the woman flinched back. “W-we are, we are unclean, Señora.”

I could see the lesions on them, and I winced at the sight. Infected. Yeah, there wasn’t much worse you could do than to be the local Sarkaz and be Infected in Iberia. They probably survived by picking through the local dump, or being forced to service crystal power plants. They were already infected, so what if they breathed in a little more originium dust? Even the little boy has visible lesions on his hands. 

“So am I,” Amiya said, holding up her hand and lowering the sleeve to show the veins of originium there. 

The woman gasped, then hastily reached out and tugged up Amiya’s sleeve. “Señora! Do, do not let them see! They…they will beat you, and toss you out of town!”

“I’d like to see them try,” Surtr sneered. There had been some people who made noises about that until Irene produced an Inquisitorial writ. But no more than noises. It was one thing to harass a starving woman and her children. It was another thing to do so to a group of heavily armed PCMs. 

“Here,” Mudrock said, kneeling and pulling out a small sack. She removed a piece of rock candy, and extended it to the boy. He quickly stepped forward and took it, then retreated a step back. He stuck it into his mouth, then hesitated. “You…you are devils, too?”

“I am Behemot, Daughter of Eretzha, Daughter of Golemath. What is your name, Son of Kazdel?”

“That…that wasn’t daddy’s name,” the boy said, looking up to his mother, who was weeping as Amiya gently took her baby. 

“Your father…your father was Sobras. You…you do not have a name,” his mother said bitterly. 

“They just call me Diablito,” the boy said, hanging his head. 

Sobras…that just meant leftovers. Probably what he begged for. I guessed daddy wasn’t around anymore, and my heart felt sick. Arturia and Fred just stood quietly, watching. Irene was glaring at the passing townsfolk, stroking her rapier. They crossed to the other side of the street or closed their doors and went inside. PMCs were one thing. Angry inquisitors meant bar the doors and hide. 

Amiya began to sing softly to the infant, rocking her back and forth.

“Please, I heard you have drugs,” the woman asked. “My children, please. They…they are infected. Can you…?”

“Your daughter is not infected,” Amiya stated. “But we will give drugs to you and your son.”

The woman laughed bitterly, then coughed. It was wet and ragged, and there were flecks of blood on her hand when she lowered it. “Why waste them on me? I will be dead soon. I…I do not know…who will care for my children, then?”

“Hey, we’re Rhodes Island. They’re safe now!” I said, kneeling down and offering my hand. The kid flinched away and hid behind Mudrock.

“Do not fear, child. This is Exusiai. She is Sarkaz, as we are,” Mudrock said gently, guiding the boy back out to face me. 

“But, but she is…she is one of, them,” the woman said, her lip curling in disgust, and I flinched slightly. 

“Here, kid, something for you,” I said, and handed him a handful of party poppers. Actual party poppers. He was like, six or seven. You start them off easy before you give them the real fun stuff. 

He curiously pulled one, then started at the explosion, then laughed with delight, and pulled several more, sending out sparks and streamers onto the street while his mother watched. 

Almost no one else saw, but I was keeping an eye on Amiya. Courier training: keep your eyes on the package. 

So, I saw when a black crown formed above her head. I heard as her song changed, to an incantation. Not in any language I knew, but one I recognized: Old Kazdelian. The language of the Sarkaz.

And I saw as a handful of black splinters left that baby’s body, trailing drops of blood. And I beheld in horror as the orginium shards were sucked into Amiya’s palm. She met my eyes, then put a finger to her lips, the crystal crown fading. 

I stayed there, kneeling in the dirt, my eyes wide, breathing heavy.

Holy fucking shit. 

Amiya…Amiya was the King of Fiends. 

Holy Law..

Those seaborn are fucked. 

Author’s Note:

YOU THOUGHT IT WAS IS3

BUT IT WAS ME, IS5 THE ENTIRE TIME