I was the Emissary of a chthonic deity. My appointment with the king wasn’t until tomorrow, so I swung by an old friend to catch up. Now, the ‘old friend’ had been reborn, so ‘he’ was now a ‘she’, and she was only 17 years old while I was 35.
But she remembered her previous lifes, and remembered me. That she was a chosen Vessel for the Bright Ones might have helped in the matter.
So, we’re having tea at her home. Her parents are both away, leaving her to take care of her young siblings. The Bright Ones called on her, but at that time of night, there was no one to take her siblings to for babysitting.
I told her I would stay and watch them. It wasn’t a bother. I wasn’t scaring the kids after all. The girl was pulling on a shadow tentacle and the boy was playing with a veil. She transformed into a Warrior of Light (complete with oversize sword), thanked me, and flew off to perform her duties.
I fixed the kids’ dinner, fed them, washed them up, and we settled down for story time.
The king’s men kicked down the door. They were expecting to find the siblings alone and unattended. They had me to deal with. Their orders were to take the children into “protective custody”. They found their weapons tied around their necks and sent back to the king. I was nice. I didn’t hurt a single one.
My friend came back from her duty to find me repairing the front door. I explained what happened (with help from her siblings) and asked if the king was up to trouble. Turns out, the 20 year old monarch had been trying to force my friend to be his… personal… attendant from the day he took the throne (two years prior). Her call this night was not from the Bright Ones, but from an abbot that was helping to pressure her into complying in exchange for royal favors and indulgences. The attempted kidnapping, if successful, would have allowed the king to blackmail my friend.
Oh hell no.
The next day, I attend the appointment in my official duties. I was formally protesting the actions of the king in regards to an ancient holy site. The king had ordered the site completely dug up and all relics destroyed to make way for a grand new cathedral to be built in the Bright Ones’ name. Except the Bright Ones didn’t ask for this. It was the abbot attempting to place himself as the sole representative of the Bright Ones.
When the workmen initially refused, the king had their families arrested and threatened with execution. As the workmen did as they were ordered, they cried out loud apologizing to the spirits for the desecration of the relics and lamenting the treatment of their families. The chthonic deities heard, and I was their initial response.
“You were never authorized to do this, and if you had asked, you would have been rejected. Per the agreements made by the gods before your birth, we can not touch a hair on your head. But there are other means to make you uncomfortable. If you do not rescind your orders, and release those you have imprisoned unfairly, all about you will suffer for your impiety.”
The king didn’t care. Instead, he screamed for my immediate execution because of my presentation. The only gods he followed were bright and true, because the abbot was his personal priest and told him the truth of things. I was dark and deceptive. Obviously, I had to be destroyed for the good of the kingdom. When none of the guards moved, he called for the Warrior of Light to appear.
My friend came, as he commanded. He ordered her to draw her weapon.
My friend did, as he commanded. He ordered her to kill me, and was obviously taking great relish in the idea of watching us fight to the death. In my mind, my masters whispered, “Do not move. Accept what comes and do whatever the Warrior of Light asks of you.”.
My friend swung her sword, and knocked the crown off the king’s head. “Dammit! I missed! Why must this sword be so big! Emissary of Shadows! Hold that bastard still! It is the will of the Bright Ones that he be removed from the throne, the bloodline, and this life! He has gone too far!”
The king screamed and called for the guards. The guards all knelt. He called for the abbot. The abbot came and held up a holy trinket. “By the glory of the Bright Ones, you are condemned! Cease and kneel!”
She cut through the trinket. “Where is the real one? This isn’t it! The real one is remade every year as a testament to the covenant! This gold and gemmed monstrosity isn’t holy! It’s money you have stolen! The only brightness you worship is the glint of treasure!”
In the mean time, I had moved under everyone’s feet and had caught the fleeing king in my shadow tentacles. My friend delivered a Boot of Righteousness to the abbot’s head and came quickly.
“Hear me, O Born King, you who have ascended the throne by quirk of parentage! The Bright Ones did promise your ancestor that none shall draw royal blood but them. we they said nothing about protecting you when you break covenants! You have profaned the holy and lifted blasphemies before us. You have assaulted the peaceful and laid knives at the throats of the innocent! If you had listened to the emissary of our brethren, we would have allowed you time to improve yourself. But you demanded death. We heard you, and we shall give you precisely what you wish!”
My friend swung the sword, and cleanly decapitated the king.
“Yay! I found the sweet spot to hold it by! I thought I would never get the hang of it!”
As I released the body of the king, the guards decided to arrest the abbot. Other emissaries of other gods arrived, and the rest of the royal family was brought forward. However I didn’t get to see who was crowned as successor. With the death of the king, a person mounted up and came to the work site calling for the restoration to begin at once and the release of all political and religious prisoners. With the workers now singing praises instead of laments, the chthonic gods had no further interest in the goings on of the court, and I was immediately recalled.
The king’s and the abbot’s insistence that I just had to be evil because I was dark and spooky stuck with me, and that’s what led to the musing about different kinds of holiness.