May I Enjoy My Life: Entry 29

1100/8/2

When I imagined Iberia, I liked to imagine it during its golden age. Ships full of treasure sailing the seas for adventure! Bright lighthouses shining in the darkness, and heroic inquisitors battling the Seaborne, while alchemists in labs created wondrous marvels!

The reality is kind of a major bummer. Everything looks…old. Not like, cool old stuff that’s interesting, but like…stuff that people don’t care about and just doesn’t work right anymore because no one has bothered to try and fix it since it broke, and that was probably like 30 years ago. Instead of dashing sailors and wise alchemists, there’s suspicious peasants who close their doors in your face. There is the Inquisition…but instead of well-manicured heroes, they are suspicious lunatics with the light of madness in their eyes and zero fashion sense. 

That said, they do have awesome enemies!

“APPLE PIE!” I shouted and blasted away another horror from the deep with Leonard. It looked sort of like a weird black and white flower that also crawled on legs. It flew apart in a spray of ichor and body parts, very satisfying. First time I’d really felt anything in days. 

Beside me, Surtr used her big flaming sword to carve two more into itty bitty pieces, while Mudrock splattered three of them with her hammer. She’s a lot taller in her armor, to the point I would have thought she’s twice as big and super muscley! Not that she doesn’t have muscles, I just, you know, imagine more. 

I picked off a couple of stragglers with some well-timed bursts, then turned to an irate-looking liberi woman. She probably wasn’t pissed because of the seaborn parts staining her clothes and face, but I offered her a hankie just in case that was the reason. 

“Hiya! Are you Miss Irene? We’ve been looking for you!” I said brightly. In Iberian, of course. Best to be polite when you meet new people. 

“Who is asking?! An angel, and two devils!? What sorcery is this!? Are you with the Church of the Deep, another servant of these monsters?!” the Inquisitor hissed. She really didn’t have much fashion sense. Black long coat over black pants over a white blouse. No color at all! Even her inquisitorial crucifix was made of ebony wood. 

“Well, if we were, we would have like, sucked your brain out and made you drink squid juice. Or just helped the monsters that you were fighting!” I said cheerily. 

“You can either come with us, or we can kick your ass too and drag you with us,” Surtr huffed, extinguishing the flames of her sword by running a cleaning cloth over it to get the fish goop off. 

Irene, I was pretty sure it was Irene, darkened her expression and glared at us, raising her rapier. “Come then, devils! You will not find this daughter of the Inquisition lacking in battle!” 

“Peace,” Mudrock said, her voice echoing slightly as she stepped between Irene and Surtr. She had hooked her hammer back on her belt, and raised her open hands. “We share the same enemies, Inquisitor Irene. We are from Rhodes Island, and are here to help in Sal Viento.” 

That was the name of the mostly wrecked nomadic city we were standing in the shadow of. It was nestled up against the shore, and we’d found Irene right as she was fighting a dozen little seaborns. I assume they’re the little ones, because they’re boring to fight really and the big ones sounded way cooler. The whole place was even more dilapidated than the fixed villages we’d passed through on our trip here, and this was apparently our first destination. 

“Why should I go with a bunch of mercenaries?” Irene sniffed, but she lowered her rapier, though she didn’t sheathe it.

“So you can help us blow up the seaborne base and save the city!” I said cheerily. Then glanced up at the rust and big holes in the old girl and winced. “Well, um, what’s left of it, anyway. Look, I’ve got like, 100 kilos of explosives and a hankering for mayhem, and I heard you were a fun girl to party with! As long as the party involved blowing up sea monsters.”

“I…what?” Irene said, blinking at me in surprise. 

I slung Leonard over my back with Victor and put an arm around Irene. She glanced at me suspiciously, but I just grinned at her. “Look, we all want the same thing, right? To not turn into orange goop!” 

“Orange goop?” Irene asked, still sounding uncertain. “I do not understand. What do you mean?”

“Oh, like in Sekiryū Gōshōten where EDEN tries to enact human instrumentality?” Surtr piped up, and I pointed to her and made a little finger gun bang. 

“Exactly! So, we enact the same plan as Crimson Fist, and blow them to hell and gone! I’ve already booked their reservations, you know.”

“Reservations?” Irene asked, but a smile was twitching at her lips. 

“At Hell’s most exclusive hotel! Hotel du Soufre, where evil little seaborns dream to go when they die,” I sighed dramatically.

“You are a very amusing Sankta, but I am afraid that I alone cannot sanction this, even if I were inclined to work with you,” Irene said, slipping from my hug, though I wasn’t trying very hard to collar her. “We must talk to my Master, Dario.”

“Oh yeah, he’s with Leader at our field base! He’s in the time-out shirt with Gladia,” I said helpfully.

“Time out shirt? Sankta, you must begin speaking sense, or I will have to kill you simply to alleviate my headache,” Irene sighed. 

“She’s Exusiai, aka, a pain in my ass. You can call me Surtr, and the big quiet one is Mudrock. Mudmud to her friends.”

“Greetings,” Mudrock said, pressing her fists together and inclining her head slightly. 

“D’oh! Thanks, Surtr! Guess I forgot my manners. Yeah, um, your boss is uh…tied up back at base with Gladia while Leader and Amiya talk some sense into them,” I explained. 

No, really, he was literally tied up. We’d had to stop him from blowing the brains out of some poor souls who’d stumbled on the seaborn. Our medics were checking them to make sure they weren’t actually contaminated with seaborn parts. If they were…well, back to plan blowing their brains out, but you can’t just like, do that because you suspect they might be evil sea monsters or cultists. You need evidence and stuff, I saw it on TV. 

Then I grinned at Irene. “But we can totally blow the seanborn the fuck up first, then go see them.”

“Can we?” Irene asked, raising an eyebrow.

Surtr and I gestured with jazz hands towards Mudrock, who helpfully turned around and showed off the 100 kilos of plastic explosives she was carrying. “Ta-da,” she said, but without much verve. We had to work on that girl’s presentation!

Irene bit her lip, then glanced at the seaborn corpses. “You…truly know where the rot at the center of this city lies? How?”

“Well, it’s not because we’re seaborn. We’ve got the Ghost of Babel with us,” I said, dropping my voice back to a conspiratorial whisper.

Irene’s eyes went wide. “You- the Ghost of Babel!? You mean, your leader…it is the one they call…the Doctor?”

“Yep! Amiya’s here too! She’s like, the actual leader, but Doktah is the Leader as far as I’m concerned!” I said, and Surtr and Mudrock both nodded in agreement. 

“I…” Irene put a hand to her head. “That would explain how you have such information…and you have approval from Dario?” 

“Well…we don’t have unapproval,” I said with a shrug and a grin.

“We got orders to ‘save civilians and exterminate seaborn.’ More or less. So I think blowing up a musty old church fits the bill,” Surtr said. 

“Yeah! And if we do it right, everyone will give us tons of awards and stuff, and we can go on to fight bigger, meaner seaborns! Like the ones on that legendary dreadnought. That sounds fun!” I said brightly. 

“Wait, legendary dreadnought? You don’t mean the Stultifera Navis?!” Irene gasped. 

“That sounds right,” I said, tapping my lip with Scardy. I shrugged. “But, you’re an Inquisitor, right? So, with your permission, we can totally do some unplanned demolition and kill the bad guys!” 

Irene looked back and forth between the three of us. “This is beginning to sound suspiciously like unsanctioned terrorist activity.”

“Well, it won’t be if you sanction it. Then it’s sanctioned terrorist activity!” I said brightly. 

Irene snorted in amusement. “You are very funny, Sankta. Well, if you know of a nest of seaborn…well, really I should execute you on the spot.”

“I don’t recommend it,” Surtr said casually, using the edge of her sword to trim her nails. “Wouldn’t work out for you so well.” 

“We seek peace, but we come prepared for war,” Mudrock said, resting a hand on the haft of her hammer. 

“You could also like, deputize us instead! Then we can know the horrors beyond knowing. And blow them up!” I suggested. 

Irene sighed heavily. “This is…most irregular. I really should consult master Dario first…but, I am also sworn to defend the people of Iberia. If there is a seaborn threat…then we must expunge it immediately. Show me this place you say is infected with the Seaborn.”

“Ok, but first, you have to promise not to kill my buddy,” I said. I raised one hand. “I promise, she’s not a seaborn.”

“What do you mean?” Irene asked, eyes narrowing.

“She means, little Iberian Bird, that we will do our duty and slay these monsters, with or without you,” Skadi said, stalking out from behind one of the holes in the old nomadic plate, Specter humming and skipping along beside her. 

“Aegir! So you are allied with the seaborn!” Irene snarled, raising her sword. 

“No, no, nothing like that,” I said, putting a hand on Irene’s arm and gently lowering it. “They’re like, super anti-seaborn soldiers. Trust me! These fins are friends, not fools.”

“And why should I trust you?” Irene demanded hotly. “You speak in riddles, have a ridiculous amount of dangerous contraband, and are allied with devils and seaborn pawns!” 

“Because the world sucks enough, so we should make friends where we can and fight for the light together,” I said, completely serious for the first time in the conversation. I plucked Victor up, and raised him over my heart. “I, Lemuen Exusiai, do swear by my Patron and Halo that we of Rhodes Island mean Iberia no harm, and are here as allies to you, Irene of the Inquisition, and as an enemy of the Seaborn.”

My halo glowed and flashed three times, and Irene sucked in a sharp breath. “You…that is a very holy oath.”

“Well, I’m not a very holy woman, but I do like to blow stuff up,” I said, putting my irreverent grin back on. I knew the type of person Irene was. She was a good person at heart, and very devout. She WANTED us to be friends and fight the seaborn together, she was just suspicious because, well, she was an Inquisitor and that sort of was her job. 

Irene considered this for a moment, then sighed heavily and sheathed her sword. “Very well. I suspect if I do not aid you, you will attempt to blow up some hapless innocent’s home and cause great destruction.”

“And here I thought the Inquisition believed there was no such thing as innocence, only degrees of guilt,” Skadi sneered. 

“Some inquisitors believe that, but they are the ones who no longer believe Iberia can be saved. I believe that He can, and that one day, the Golden Age will return in splendor,” Irene said, putting a fist to her heart. 

That made Specter cackle and show off her mouthful of teeth.“Hehe, a song of fools, a cantor of false gold! An age of lies that was swept away in silence!” 

Irene glared at her, but Skadi sighed and shook her head. “Your golden age was built on lies and false assumptions, Little Iberian Bird. But so long as hot blood burns in Iberian hearts, perhaps your land is not lost. Come. We will show you the church. I have scouted it already. Our target is within.”

We clambered up rusting stairways onto the nomadic plate, where I paused. “You know, we should give you something before we go any further, Irene.”

“And what is that?” she asked coolly, resting a hand on one of her guns. The Iberians have some level of gunsmithing ability, but it’s about 400 years out of date from modern firearms. They still use black powder for the non-arts ones, if you can believe it, so she had a single action revolver that required her arts to fire. It looked like a really nice model, so I was willing to bet it was Sankta forged. 

“An official Rhodes Island arm band! That way, you look like part of the team, and you have some color to go with that drab outfit of yours,” I said, and pulled out a blue armband with the Rhodes Island logo on it. 

Irene accepted it suspiciously, looking over it carefully, but it was just a simple cotton armband that we gave out to identify operators in the field. 

“You should put it on, reduce the chance of friendly fire,” Surtr told her, then gestured to her own forearm where she’d tied hers. Skadi and Specter had them on as well, though Specter had hers on over her eyepatch like a pirate. 

“Very well,” Irene agreed, and tied it on to her right bicep. “Now, let us continue.”

“Gotta get directions first,” I told her, and pulled out my tablet and logged in. A moment later, the PTRS logo popped up. Then fuzzed and glitched out. I frowned, shaking the screen a few times. An error message I’d never seen popped up, and I frowned. “Well, that’s weird. Anyone else’s working?”

Even as I did so, the error suddenly resolved itself, and I smiled, pressed my thumbprint to the screen. 

“BIOMETRICS RECOGNIZED,” the PRTS voice said. “HEHE. WELCOME BACK, OPERATOR EXUSIAI.”

Huh? Hehe? That was…new. Had closure done an update or something? Well, whatever, it let me in. After a couple of moments, a connection was established, and Leader’s icon popped up. “Under,” they said. 

“Tides,” I responded. “Bird is in the hand, not the bush.”

“Copy that, Squad Leader. Welcome to Rhodes Island, Inquisitor Irene,” Doktah said.

Irene leaned forward, looking suspiciously at the screen, but the Doktah had video off. “I am Inquisitor Irene, yes. You seem to know an awful lot about me. Who are  you, exactly?”

“Some call me a Ghost. But I am just a man, like any other. What I am is here to stop the Seaborn threat, and save this city,” Doktah said. 

“Do you have my master, Dario?” Irene demanded. 

“We do. He’s right here, actually,” Doktah replied. A moment later, the video feed activated, and the weathered face of a middle aged liberi man appeared. “Irene. The Rhodes Islanders picked me up. For now, cooperate with them. I’m working with the Doktah and CEO Amiya. They have an interest in stopping the seaborn. More than that, I don’t want to say, even over a secure line. Assist them, but keep your eyes and ears open and do not betray your mandate. For Iberia’s Prosperity.” 

“For Iberia’s Defense,” Irene responded with her own callsign, nodding. “Very well, Master. If you trust these Rhodes Islanders, then so will I. They seem to know a great deal.”

“Yes. I’m still trying to find out how. But for now, the threat is grave enough we should not question heavily armed allies when they appear. Dario out.”

The video feed went out, and Doktah’s voice spoke again. “I’m highlighting your route. I’ve already got the information from Skadi and Specter’s scouting mission. I’ve marked where to place your explosives for maximum impact. We want to destroy the Church of the Deep before they become a threat, so this is a surprise attack. Don’t let them see you coming.”

I lowered my goggles, and my HUD displayed the route, even as the others did the same. Mudrock passed a pair of goggles to Irene, who put them out, then muttered an oath. “¡Por los Ojos! This technology…no wonder Rhodes Island is so successful. I feel like I can see through walls with this.”

“Depends on how thick they are,” Surtr laughed, but Skadi shrugged.

“It’s crude, but functional. The lack of motion tracking or biosign scanners is a disadvantage, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Heartbeats, heartbeats, pitter-patter pump! Hear the sound of the blood that flows, find the sound of the silence that shows!” Specter chanted. 

Look, I don’t judge, but the whole rhyming nun thing was pretty creepy. I think she does it intentionally, but she could also just be crazy. I just hope she’s not so crazy she doesn’t know where to point that big power saw of hers. 

We made our way through the decaying city, and the drones we had on overwatch showed us how many people got out of our way. There were a surprising number of them, all of them in ratty clothing and many with obvious signs of malnutrition or other diseases. I helpfully marked all of them for package deliveries later. We had brought a lot of relief supplies, and most of them hadn’t gone with Gavial and Eunectes to Sargon. There were people here who needed helping, and me and Rhodes Island would provide!

I mean, sure, it’s not saving the world from oripathy like Bones and Sussurro, but…it’s still important, right? And we are saving the world from turning into sea monster orange goop, so there is that. 

Speaking of, there wasn’t much orange goop at the old church PRTS led us to, but if there wasn’t a bad infestation of black mold, I’d eat my halo. 

“Quintus is inside,” Skadi whispered. “We saw him go in, and he hasn’t left.”

“This city is riddled with catacombs. He could have left by another route,” Irene hissed back. “I should have known that old man was a member of the Church of the Deep. Damned slimy aegir.”

“Ah, little bird, little bird, watch where you spread your wings! Some fish are foul, some fowl are fish, but some sharks hunt for sweeter meat,” Specter sang, showing off her chompers again. Ok, so maybe it is an act, but the bitch is crazy. 

“Are you certain these Aegri are not allied with the Church of the Deep, Sankta? They look like islanders to me,” Irene growled, hand on her sword. 

“They’re from Aegir, Irene,” I said. 

She frowned at me for a moment, then her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. Her gaze flitted back to Skadi and Specter. Specter was still grinning, but Skadi looked smug and nodded. 

“We are the Abyssal Hunters. Consider our order to be the homeland’s equivalent to your own order, but without the barbarism and superstition.”

“But…Aegir…it’s a legend. Lost for hundreds of years under the waves, since before the Golden Age of Iberia,” Irene said slowly. 

“The Seaborn are a threat to all. Even the might of Aegir is not enough to stand alone against their threat,” Skadi said, frowning as she admitted it. “In this, we fight alongside you landwalkers once more.”

“What matters is we’ve got 100 kilos of explosives, and one bad guy in that building. So, who knows how to place demolition charges?” I asked, taking a brick from Mudrock.

Everyone raised their hands. I knew I had picked out a good group of friends!

We quickly and quietly rigged the entire church to explode, then took up overwatch positions. I teamed up with Surtr, while Mudrock stayed with Irene, and Specter and Skadi moved to cover another sector. 

“Alright, who knows the first rule of blowing up bad guys?” I whispered over the radio. 

“There is no kill like overkill,” Surtr said fervently, and I nodded. 

“Right!” And what’s rule number two?”

“Just because you didn’t find the body, don’t assume you vaporized them,” Skadi said grimly. 

“Exactly! So, rule number three?” 

“Let me guess: See rule one,” Irene said dryly. 

“Of course! And, I brought my good friends to help ensure that. So, after I do the honors, everyone pick up Horatio, Richard, and Steven, and get ready to finish the job properly,” I told them. 

Then, I pressed the Big Red Button. Look, there are some perks to being a squad leader, and one of them is you get to push the buttons. 

There was a satisfying WHUMPH as the shaped charges all detonated at once. Now, 100 kilos of explosives is not enough to blow a big stone church to smithereens. What it IS enough is to collapse the church on itself and pulverize everything inside. So there was a lot of rumbling and dust spraying everywhere. I held my breath, and waited. 

To my delight, there was a roar of, “FOOLS! YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU AWAKEN!” 

Then a giant sea monster, who I assumed was the former Bishop Quiteus, burst up out of the ruins with a roar. He looked like a two headed giant squid…thing. More of those sea monsters also bubbled out, some of them on four legs like dogs, others the smaller tentacle flower things.

Unfortunately for them, I already had Horatio to my shoulder. “FIRE!” I screamed and pressed the launcher. 

Three arts-powered rockets flew into Quietus and exploded, causing him to wail and writhe. I didn’t wait to see if that worked, and neither did Surtr or the others. 

“MORONS! JUST DIE ALREADY!” Surtr roared and drew Laevatain and hurled herself down as her blade ignited. 

I had Viktor in one hand and Leonard in the other. It’s usually stupid to try to shoot like that, because the recoil makes your accuracy complete crap, and you’ll drift off target. But, when your target is, you know, building-sized, that’s less important. I also didn’t know enough about seaborn biology to bother with pinpoint aiming. My strategy was more “make lots of big holes until it stops moving.”

Wounded first by us blowing up a building on top of him, then shooting three rocket launchers at him, and then unleashing two angry Abyssal Hunters of questionable sanity and one Inquisitor of questionable fashion sense, along with three Sarkaz (yeah, yeah, I know…) meant that the fun only lasted about another minute. And that was only because we kept shooting and slashing for a good thirty seconds after Quietus stopped moving. Well, on his own. He was slapped aroundquite a bit by Mudrock and her golems. 

“Well, now there’s only one thing to do,” I said, looking down over the broken forms of seaborn. 

“Burn this place and kill all the witnesses,” Irene said grimly. 

“What!? No! We don’t- no killing witnesses!” I sputtered. 

“The soil here is contaminated. We will purify it,” Mudrock said solemnly. 

Irene looked up at Mudrock, who still had her armor on. “And how do you plan on doing that, Sarkaz?” 

“Fire, mostly,” Surtr said with a shrug, and Mudrock nodded. 

“That wasn’t what I meant, but sure,” I said with a shrug. 

“What did you mean?” Skadi asked. 

I grinned and rubbed the back of my head sheepishly. “Well, um, I was going to say go out for ice cream. But burning the bodies works too.”

“A woman after my own heart!” Surtr cackled, then used her arts to ignite the remains. 

Mudrock had to carry Surtr back. I offered to help, but Mudrock insisted, and she is a lot stronger than me. 

We made our way to the outskirts of the city, where Rhodes Island’s convoy had set up our forward base. There were a lot of townsfolk who had come to us for treatment, those desperate enough or still sane enough to recognize help when it was offered. I passed on my data of the civilians I’d marked to Thorns, and he promised he’d lead a squad to see to them. 

After that, we met with Leader and Amiya and I gave my report. Mission Accomplished, no survivors! Um, I did have to reword it to clarify I meant enemy survivors. All the good guys made it home in one piece! Even Surtr, though she had to be treated for arts overdose. 

Gladia and Dario weren’t trying to kill one another anymore, which was good, and it seemed like the Inquisition and Abyssal Hunters were willing to work together to deal with the threat. They talked about a lot more stuff, but I was tired and I kinda started napping with my eyes open. I’m just…I’m so tired all the time these days. I feel…dull. Listless. I try not to let it show, but it’s hard. 

“Sankta, are you well?” Irene asked me, and I startled awake. 

“Yep! Super! Fine! Just getting a little shut eye!” I said, smiling at her and hoping she didn’t notice the bags under my eyes. 

She studied me, then asked, “I don’t see any other Sankta on this team. Are you alone?”

“Huh? No way! I got lots of friends here!” I said brightly, nodding to Mudrock, who had taken off her armor. The look on Irene’s face when she realized how short the “giant” Sarkaz was was priceless!

“You know what I mean. When was the last time you spent time with your people?” Irene demanded.

My shoulders slumped despite my best efforts, and I gave her a tired smile. “It’s not been too long, I just…Well, I miss Laterano sometimes, you know? Well, probably not, but I bet you miss your own home! Where is home for you, anyway?”

“There is a monastery near here, where my gun was made,” Irene said, putting her hand on her pistol. Damn Inquisitors. Never let you change the topic. Not that I minded this time, actually. 

“Really? They have a gunsmith there? Is he laterano trained?” I asked eagerly. I’m always up to talk about my babies with someone who knows!

“It is not far, a day's journey. We will be heading in that direction regardless, if what my Master says is true. I can show you the way. I think it would do you good: it is a monastery of your people, though they are all Iberian.”

A whole monastery of Sankta? I…I needed that. I needed it so bad. There are enclaves of Sankta around the world, though they’re most common in Siracusa or Iberia, where the Lateran Church is strongest. There’s also a big population in Columbia too, I’ve visited them a few times in Fort Barron. Takes the edge off, you know?

“Well, I mean, maybe I’ll stop by, but I need to stay with-” I began, but then I nearly jumped out of my skin when Mudrock put a hand on my shoulder. She moves really quietly when she wants.

“No. You will go. You must commune with your people. We will come,” Mudrock said. “I will tell Amiya and the Doctor. We depart at once.”

“I can come to, to show you the way. I…owe you. Iberia owes you a debt for what you have done,” Irene said stiffly. 

Surtr woke up before we left and insisted on coming, and we borrowed one of the smaller transport vehicles. I felt really guilty about it, but Amiya just smiled and told me to take care of myself. 

We left first thing in the morning the next day. The trip took us about 6 hours with a modern land transport. I’d have been able to do it faster on a messenger bike, but it was more fun to go on a road trip with the four of us. Irene turned out to have zero taste in music. She’s one of those types who just listens to religious stuff 24/7. Like, OK, yeah, some of that is alright, but seriously, the good shit is the hip-hop coming out of Lungmen and Trimounts these days. I invoked my privileges as Squad Leader and blasted my own personal tunes. Surtr has good taste and enjoyed them, Mudrock didn’t object, and even Irene had to admit that my rendition of “Rap God” was pretty damn awesome. 

Monasterio de las Alas Brillantes was up in the hills above the sea, which is probably how it survived the Profound Silence. Well, that and the Apostolic Gun Knights that were there on pilgrimage at the time. The abby supported itself by providing the Inquisition with many of their firearms, but also from the vineyards and farmland that were worked by the peasants who worked the parish land. 

The village was in much better repair than the other places I’d seen in Iberia, and the people there seemed less downtrodden. They were suspicious at first, until I waved at them, then they all did that stupid bowing and scraping thing and calling me “blessed angel” and all that bullshit. I just smiled and waved and drove on. Well, I mean, I also did make the sign of blessing out of the window. The religious bullshit drives me bonkers, but I’m not an asshole. 

The monastery itself was in excellent repair, with stained glass windows from before the Profound Silence in some places, and others showing the Apostolic Gun Knights blowing up waves of Seaborn. Damn, that looked like fun. I’ve never been the hoity-toity type to be a gunknight…but seriously, every kid in Laterano dreams of being one. They’re just so cool!

A frowning priest and two nuns came out to meet us, and I could see their patrons under their robes because I knew where to look. However, when I popped out of our vehicle, their faces instantly relaxed into smiles.

“Mail’s here!” I said brightly. It was too, I was returning to my roots, and we’d brought all the messages and info we’d picked up along the way.

“Ah, sister, welcome to Alas Brillantes. I am Padre Diego, this is Sister Juno and Sister Isebella,” the priest said, bowing to me slightly and making the holy sign of the law: right hand touches your head, your lips, and then your heart, to show that the Law guides your mind, your worlds, and lives within you. I returned the gesture, and…oh Holy Law, I could feel them. The warmth, and the love, and the joy at seeing a fellow Sankta. I instantly understood that Padre Diego was an older Sankta in his 100s, and his joints ached something fierce from days of hard labor. His wife, Sister Juno, was one of the two nuns, the other was his actual sister, Isabella. 

Yeah, yeah, I know. Look, the fact of the matter is that Sankta in remote places have to breed or they’ll go crazy. Juno was from Laterano; I could sense that immediately, having been sent here to keep the gene pool from being a wading pool. Isabella was actually visiting from another Monastary here in Iberia, her own husband lived there and was another Sankta. Most Sankta, well, basically all Sankta who don’t want to get ex-communicated, marry other Sankta.

I, uh, well don’t spread this around but I’ve fucked more than a few non-Sankta. I always used protection! I wasn’t that much of a heretic at the time…but it feels…empty. Not at all like being with another Sankta. Sure, it’s still fun to have sex with non-Sankta…but there isn’t that deep spiritual connection you get with Empathy. 

And, this is going to sound weird if you’re not a Sankta…but I was closer with Diego, Juno, and Isabella than I had been with any of those non-Sankta boyfriends (and one girlfriend, look, I was seriously lonely) I’d been with. And that was after like, five seconds. I knew their aches, their pains, their joys, their delights. And they knew mine. Not everything, of course, it’s not mind reading, but we could just…feel each other. 

Then Mudrock and Surtr jumped out of the car and everything went to hell. 

“Devils, here!? Sister, why do you defile this holy ground and sully yourself with such as them?” Padre Diego depended.

I blinked at the old man, then recoiled in sheer horror at what I was feeling from him. He didn’t just dislike Sarkaz. He hated them. He wanted to shoot both of my friends dead here and now. 

This is…well, it’s distressingly common. Not just in Sankta, there’s racist pieces of shit everywhere, but it’s especially common in Sankta. The Law does say to scourge the Sarkaz from your lands. I was getting so much backwash, I felt myself starting to hate them and want to shoot them.

“No, look, listen, these are my sisters!” I protested, shaking my head and putting a hand to my head as I tried to sort through this. “Sankta, Sarkaz, we are not-”

“Heresy!” Isabella gasped, and Juno looked sick. 

“She is no heretic,” Irene said, coming to stand beside me after genuflecting to Padre Diego. 

“Ah, Inquisitor Irene, welcome back,” Diego said, giving her a smile, though it quickly turned to a frown. “I had thought you more holy than one who would consort with devils.”

“Oh piss off old man,” Surtr called, and flipped Diego off. The rage he felt…he was near to drawing his patron and shooting her! I put myself between the two of them, my own rage a reflection of his, but for obviously different reasons.

“Did you- did you take this filth as a lover?!” Diego hissed. 

“What if I did, asshole?” I snarled. “I told you, we Sankta and Sarkaz share-” I cut myself off. This was too much. I was losing control. Empathy is only so deep, but the rush after being cut off for so long was doing things to my head. 

“You have much to repent,” Diego hissed, making a sign of superstition to ward off evil. “I will not turn you away, Sister, not without hearing your story, but the Devils cannot stay.”

“We will leave,” Mudrock said calmly. “We can camp in the hills outside the village.”

“Yeah, we can,” I growled. I stomped to the back of the truck, pulled out the mail packages, and tossed them at Diego’s feet. “Here’s your damn letters. Try not to be such a racist asshole. Sankta can’t afford to hate Sarkaz. We have enough actual enemies, like the fucking sea monsters that want to eat you all. Law be with you.”

Then I got back in the car and slammed the door. Irene made a few excuses then got in as well, Surtr and Mudrock were already inside. As we pulled away, another Sankta stepped out, and his cold eyes met mine for a moment.

I shivered. What the fuck was the Law’s Most Autistic Angel doing here? Well whatever, Fred wasn’t my problem now. I sped off down the hill, and this time I flipped off the peasants instead of blessing them. I bet there were racist pieces of shit, too!

We were halfway down the mountain before Surtr put a hand on my shoulder. “Uh, Exusiai? Maybe slow down a little?”

“Why? Fuck them!” I growled, and there were tears running down my cheeks. I felt the sudden urge to vomit, and I slammed on the brakes, then pulled over and ran to the side of the road, where I threw up over the stone wall onto the slope below us. I was shuddering all over. I had been close. So close, to the dose of Empathy I needed. Now I was going into withdrawals. 

Mudrock got out and rubbed my back, while Irene gave me some tea and Surtr stood around, looking uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” I rasped, wiping bile from my lips. “Can…can one of you drive? I don’t…I don’t feel so good.”

“You…you can go back. We can camp outside, it’s fine,” Surtr said, fidgeting with her sword and looking uncomfortable.

I shook my head fiercely. “No! This hate, it has to STOP! I can’t…if I stay there, with them, with their hatred…I’ll become like them! I just…I can’t! We have to-”

Then I threw up again. So much for my morals. 

We didn’t go back, and by the time we rejoined the convoy on the way to Gran Ferro, I did feel better. I was going to be fine. I could go another few months without Empathy. Probably. 

When I curled up on the back sleep, alone, to sleep that night, the door of the van slid open. I looked up to see Surtr’s silhouette. She silently closed the door, then rolled out her mat beside me. 

“Thought…thought you didn’t want to be around me,” I mumbled. 

“You remember what I said? About being Sarkaz?”

My mind was hazy, but I managed to remember it. “Uh, something about suffering?”

“Well, you’re fucking suffering, sister. But you don’t have to do it alone. That’s another part of being Sarkaz.”

Then she rolled over and started snoring. Despite how awful I felt, despite the longing for Empathy…I felt at peace in that moment. I clutched Viktor to my chest, and let myself drift off.

Tomorrow, I got to kill a god. Or, well, at least in the next week. But I was so getting to kill a god. Just me, and my sisters. Mudrock and Surtr. 

Lemuen, wherever you are…I hope you understand when I find you again.