SSD 4.60 - Judgment From On High

Once more into the breach. Smaller cliff at the end. About halfway through the next chapter. Assuming it is written by tomorrow, I will post it here then.

Things left untended have a tendency to go wrong. Whether that is a problem growing, a solution dying, or simply a huge mess of mundane things that need to be dealt with.

A ruler cannot afford to neglect his kingdom for long. Not if he expects it to survive intact.

Dealing with a problem in a timely manner means that you have choices. Mercy can only come before things have progressed too far. Justice only comes when all of society’s preventive measures have failed.

Justice is not the true objective. There is no success there, only failure.

-Jek’jadic The Decisive, fragment from a mostly destroyed text.

==Caden==

Coming out of my soul was jarring.

Suddenly, I was more than human again, and sensations crashed into me like waves. And for moment I felt myself swept away. I tried to focus, to only look at a particular area, but it didn’t work. Neither did separating my mind into shards. Each time I tried, I was submerged beneath uncontrolled sensation once more. Eventually, I emerged again, pushing through the sensations, reclaiming my control piece by piece.

Looks like I need to get full control back, before I can deal with anything.

Distractions tried to claim my attention, but I pushed through them.

The dungeon had expanded enough to fill the entire mountain above me?

Great, keep going, get everything back under control.

Traces of magma were visible in the furthest edges of my control, showing the dungeon expanded even further than my aura had been before, via some mechanism I didn’t know.

Oh God, was Exsan done first and out messing with things? No… concentrate.

Speaking of, was that part of an ancient city that had been sealed under rock, and was now part of my dungeon?

Yes, yes, it is. We’ll get to that in a moment.

My focus moved inwards.

Everything in the dungeon checked out, there were even a few people in the Wandering Woods.

Holy crap that fire moves fast! Well… they seem to be prepared for it. Guess I should have tested that out more.

Focus…

A large crowd of adventurers were gathered together in front of a stage, with a strange stone structure on it.

“However, when you are done fighting, and...”

Huh, looks like Tarrae is giving a speech. Awesome that I can understand them now. Get to it in a moment…

There were corpses waiting behind the Door of the Dead.

Goddamn it. FUCK!

NO! No. I’ll deal with this, with… all of this. I can handle it later. Cannot do anything until I have full control back.

For a moment, I teetered on the edge of control, before wrestling my perceptions back under my direction.

I kept pulling inward, regaining the control I hadn’t needed for who knows how long, until finally, I was back at my core.

There we go.

Everything snapped back into place. Almost in a literal way. I could even recognize what had happened, my increased perception of the soul enough to recognize it.

My soul had fallen out of sync with my core. I had been away in my soul long enough that things had started to disconnect.

What if I had stayed away for too long?

I wasn’t sure of the answer, but I had a feeling that it wouldn’t have been good.

Maybe there was a reason Exsan wasn’t diving down into his soul…

Usually, I didn’t miss having the dungeon instincts, but I suspected that they could have helped keep me out of trouble.

Right, note for the future. Do not spend too long inside my soul.

Not that I knew how long I had been gone, regardless.

Guess it’s time to get back to everything.

With a cautious thought, I multiplied into shards, spreading my consciousness across my dungeon once again.

Holy fuck!

A stone began to fall.

==Zidaun==

As Tarrae spoke, my feelings were at war.

I couldn’t argue against the needs of my people. And yet…

That didn’t mean I was happy.

No, I was mostly just sad. Sad at the waste, at the cost.

My eyes prickled with tears and I looked up at the stone.

As per tradition, it was not a plain stone.

Well, it wasn’t an Adar tradition, it was a human one.

Nothing used in an execution should ever be reused. Each method should be crafted, intricate, and unique.

Supposedly, it was about effort. That it should never be easy to kill. That time and effort should be taken in crafting anything to take a life. That the time spent crafting it should be used to reflect, and the uniqueness of the craft was an echo of each unique life. The tradition called for the one ordering the execution to watch over the crafting, or ideally, if they had the skills, craft it themselves.

I made it myself.

The four corners were the only part that was plain, smooth so they would slide against the indented pillars holding up the stone without issue. The only exception were indentations linked to stone protrusions. When those withdrew, the stone would fall.

Past that, I had imitated the dungeon’s art.

Just from my brief experience being incarnated, I knew more about creating and wielding stone. My skill level hadn’t increased, but I could do more with that I had.

I had made various colors of stone, creating them out of nothing but mana, before weaving them together over the surface in Celtic Knots. The top and bottom had a hollow square pattern of knots. In the center of both, I carved a single word: “Judgment.”

I had finished by anointing it with my own blood. My own acknowledgment that I didn’t want to kill, That to kill Tarrae would hurt me too.

Tarrae was finished speaking, invoking Otga.

I sent my own prayer to join his.

I don’t know if you can hear me Otga, or if you would listen to one who doesn’t worship you. Watch over Tarrae as he passes through the last gate.

Tarrae finished and walked under the stone, stepping down into the recess that would hold the stone.

Tarrae’s body quivered here and there, faint shakes echoing through him, and his eyes were faintly glassy.

I turned away from him, drawing no attention to his trembling, and addressed the crowd.

“Without shackles, bindings, or chains, Tarrae goes willingly to face judgment. May we all meet our end as bravely as he. May his own god welcome him home.”

I paused for a moment, turning to Tarrae.

“Are you ready, Tarrae?”

He nodded jerkily, managing to get out a “Yes.”

It was enough, I certainly wasn’t going to ask for more.

With all sincerity, I invoked my God.

“May the dungeon forgive you.”

I pulled on the stone, and judgment descended

.

.

.

Until it didn’t.

==Tarrae==

My eyes had reflexively closed as the stone descended, but I felt no pain.

Silently, I thanked the gods for their mercy.

Thank you for making it painless.

A voice boomed through me, echoing.

“You are forgiven.”

Gasps mirrored the echoing voice with their own sounds.

My eyes snapped open, ready to be in the realm of the dead, but I still felt decidedly physical.

Which made more sense as my eyes opened.

I’m alive?

For the first time since I had walked beneath the stone, I started paying attention to my surroundings again.

The crowd was there ahead of me, gaping up at where the stone had been. Which seemed appropriate, since it had vanished entirely, along with the four pillars.

What the in the frozen hells happened?

I noticed Zidaun. He was on the ground, kneeling. His face was filled with worship and relief, tears streaked down his face, and he smiled the widest smile I had ever seen on him. He looking at where…

No.

Looking behind me.

I whirled around and almost felt to own knees.

Burning Maw…

Standing twenty feet high, a living statue emerged from the basalt columns of the building behind it. Made of the same type of stone, it looked like it was made of living night, with flowing robes of deep crimson.

It was looking down at us, no at me.

I gulped.

It nodded at me with a slight smile, before speaking again.

“You are forgiven.”

Its voice was nothing human, instead sounding like the rumble of stone, like an avalanche had chosen to speak. It echoed and roared and then was echoed in turn by the surrounding stone. Like thunder that crashed against valley walls, repeating again and again in diminishing swells of sound.

I didn’t know what to say, my mouth simply hung open.

Say something you idiot.

Before I had a chance to speak, its gaze turned away from me, looking over the crowd.

“I am Caden.”

==Zidaun==

I refused to turn away as the stone descended.

I had built the stone, I had declared the sentence, I WOULD watch as it came down. I would watch and honor Tarrae’s bravery.

It was the last thing I could ever give him… at least in this world.

So with the stone only the barest bit from the top of Tarrae’s head, I caught the sudden absence as the it was suddenly not there. It, and the four pillars that had guided it, were gone in an instant.

Wind pushed down on Tarrae and fluttered against my clothes, the interrupted descent still sufficient to move the air.

There has been no pulse of mana, no changes, only the faintest flicker of something that was familiar.

There was a stunned moment of silence, and I allowed myself to hope.

Please be what I think that was.

Stone moved like water as a familiar power gathered together, manifesting in the stone. The stone grew faster than I had ever seen it before, making it seem that the figure was merely stepping through a doorway into the light.

He spoke, as he emerged.

“You are forgiven.”

I crashed to my knees, but I scarcely noticed. My arms reached out for him, as if I could embrace him, as tears of gratitude cascaded freely down my cheeks.

Thank you Caden, for hearing my plea.

I’m not sure I have ever been happier.

The worship I felt in the past was nothing compared to this, the emotion magnified a hundred times over by my gratitude and relief.

Tarrae finally seemed to realize what was happening, goggling with mouth agape at Caden.

Now that he had been seen properly, again, Caden issued his decree of forgiveness, his eyes kind, even as he smiled.

Caden’s eyes turned away, flickering toward me before looking over the gathered adventurers.

“I am Caden.”

Again, I felt the power of the dungeon burst forth, and another figure emerged from the stone, though this time is was clothed in robes of black.

“And I, am Exsan.”