The Last of the Wilds

:Yes.

:Should I investigate?

Juran was silent for several breaths.

:No. How well are the Siyee recovering from Heart-eater?

:The disease has spread to all but the most remote tribes. The situation cannot get much worse.

He paused again.

:What are your intentions regarding Mirar?

Auraya felt her chest tighten.

:I can’t kill him if I believe he doesn’t deserve it.

:Not even if the gods order you to?

She hesitated.

:No. It makes all they represent - all we represent - worthless.

There was a long silence.

:Dyara and Rian are leaving for Si today. If they kill Mirar, will you feel they have rendered all we represent worthless?

Her stomach sank at the question.

:I might. I don’t know...

:I executed Mirar over one hundred years ago with as little evidence of his guilt as you have now. Have you lost your respect for me, knowing that?

She could not answer his question. To deny it would be dishonest, yet she still felt a great deal of respect for him.

:Our situations are not the same, she said. Mirar did not open his mind to you. When you faced Mirar the gods had only just begun laying down the laws that we live by. The laws and principles that they are asking me to break.

:They asked me to trust them. Do you trust them?

:Perhaps not as much as I did before, she admitted. I cannot help it. When they asked me to do something unjust, I lost my trust that they would never ask me to do something unjust. She felt a bitter amusement. If I kill Mirar I will hate myself and question the gods’ wisdom for all eternity.

:I fear you will now question the gods’ wisdom anyway.

She felt a cold stab of realization. He was right. There was no going back. She had lost a little of her respect for the gods and couldn’t make herself pretend that she hadn’t. I am a White. A White should not doubt the gods he or she serves! If I can’t regain my respect for them then... She shivered. Then I shouldn’t be a White.

:Auraya?

Her mouth was dry. She forced her attention back to Juran.

:What should I do? Should I return to Jarime?

:No. Stay in Si. There is no point you returning here when the sky people still need you.

He broke the contact. Opening her eyes, Auraya felt tears spring into them. All she had ever wanted was to be a priestess and use her Gifts to help people. To serve the glorious beings that were the gods.

The gods I love, she thought. But not as wholeheartedly now as before. That has been tainted. Ruined. Perhaps my love should be more robust. Perhaps I should be like Rian, willing to do anything, whether right or wrong, in their name. Am I being selfish? Does it matter whether I believe what I do is just?

But it had to matter whether the White cared if what they did was right or wrong. For it to be otherwise was frightening. And it did matter that the gods were good and just. Otherwise... what other abuses of power could the gods ask the White to perform?

If Mirar is right and the gods have abused their power plenty of times before, what would prevent them from doing so again? What if the gods had created the Circlians and White in order to to do whatever they wished in the world, unchallenged?

She felt her stomach clench. It was too frightening to consider. If the gods’ intentions were evil, where did that leave humans?

At their mercy.

The safest path for her was to stay in their favor - to kill Mirar and be an obedient servant. She should be as loyal as Rian, except her unquestioning obedience would be motivated by fear, not love or loyalty.

The thought made her feel ill. Living in a constant state of fear and lies, forced into actions she knew were wrong, would only lead to misery. An eternity of misery.

It might not come to that, she thought. No. The gods are not evil. They want Mirar dead because they fear he will harm mortals. Their viewpoint is too distant for them to see that he is no longer a danger. Mine is closer. I have seen inside his mind. I know better.

But how could that be so? The gods were supposed to be wiser than humans. If she believed they were wrong, then she must believe they could make mistakes. A White should not doubt the gods. She put her head in her hands and faced the simple truth. I am not worthy of this position.

The crew scurried about the deck of the Arrow as if their lives depended on them getting their tasks done as quickly as possible. Rian looked over to the Star. The crew of the other ship was as busy. Dyara stood at the prow. Though the two ships would sail together, he would not speak to her except mentally for the next few weeks.

Footsteps echoed on the deck. He turn to see Juran approaching.

“Rian,” he said. “Have you everything you need?”

“Yes,” Rian replied.

Juran paused as a young priest carrying a wooden box hurried on board. The man approached them nervously, placed the box on the deck, then made the sign of the circle.

“The copies you requested, Rian of the White.”

“Thank you,” Rian replied. “You may go.”

“So what did you ask the scribes to stay up all night to copy?” Juran asked.

“Sennon’s Code of Law, some histories of previous emperors and a few studies I commissioned on the many cults practiced there. I will need some reading material for the journey, and did not want to risk taking originals.”

Juran chuckled. “I would not have thought you’d have time for reading on the way to Si, with your mind occupied in speeding the ship through the water.”

Rian shrugged. “No, but once Mirar is dealt with we may return at a more leisurely pace.”

The White leader’s expression became grim and pained. Rian had seen that look before. It appeared whenever Mirar’s name had been spoken. He had guessed long ago that killing Mirar had been unpleasant for Juran. It must be frustrating to find that the heathen leader of the Dreamweavers had not died, and was manipulating mortals again. And immortals. The sooner he and Dyara rid the world of Mirar the better - for Juran as well as the world. However, talking about it was pointless and would only frustrate Juran further.

“I am beginning to think it will take years, perhaps centuries, to bring Sennon under our protection,” Rian said, bringing the subject back to that land. “These people will worship anything. Have you heard of this new cult of the Maker?”

Juran’s eyebrows rose. “No.”

“It is based on the idea that the world, even the gods, were created by some greater being for some high purpose. This being is known as the Creator. The man who leads the religion offers no tangible proof of this, but uses twisted logic to convince people of the truth. The cult is small now, but it is growing at a disturbing rate.”

“New cults usually do. Their followers’ enthusiasm fails when they realize there is no advantage to be gained from a non-existent god - especially when death is close.”