I laid awake in bed. Sleep wasn’t the goal, not yet at least. I wanted a gameplan for approaching my conversation with Sofia tomorrow but none came to me. Clair must’ve noticed my stirring since she popped her head over the top bunk.
“What’s keeping you up?” She asked, her hair was a falling mess as she was leaning over to look at me.
“Do you know much about Sofia?”
“d’Acron? That haughty bitch?” Clair climbed down from her bunk, inviting herself to a bigger conversation than I had hoped.
“I’m not sure if that’s an accurate representation of her,” I said with a confused look. Clair sat down next to me on the bed to chat.
“She, what, spent weeks ignoring you when you wanted to talk? Sofia’s trouble. She acts like she’s all above us since her dad’s the Bishop. Always keeping to her private quarters and ignoring us. I heard she once hit a young acolyte that came up to ask her something. She’ll send some of her father’s guard to go tell you off if you try and get too close. She’s not even a good apprentice priestess. Always getting reprimanded and the like.”
“I really doubt the validity of all that,” I sighed.
“Then what’s your read on her?”
“I’m trying to figure that out myself. She’s the reason I’m here to begin with. Sofia helped me when I was lost in the woods and I’d at least like to be on good terms with her. I think she’s a good person.”
“Hmph,” Clair snorted, “don’t say I didn’t warn you if Sofia gets you in trouble.” She started getting up off my bed.
“By the way, I don’t suppose you know a good place in town that I could bring Sofia to. So she could heal people and train her magic?”
“Holy magic doesn’t work that way you know… it’s not like you wizards,” Clair said, looking at me incredulously. “Devotion to the gods and service to them through their church above all else is how you grow as a cleric. It’s not something someone outside the cloth can really help with.”
That couldn’t be accurate, or at least it shouldn’t be. I wasn’t in the mood to argue about that with her. “Could you at least humor me? I mean you all still have that mana resistance nonsense when casting spells right? Might as well help her lower that if nothing else.”
“The southern slums would be good. You’ll find a lot of people injured from the nearby wharf.”
“Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes. I do hope you’d be willing to give Sofia a chance.”
Clair climbed back up to her bunk for the night. “You’ll really need to convince me.”
The next morning, I made my way to Fionn’s study at the first bell after breakfast ended. With a sigh and a knock, it began.
“Come in,” Fionn said. I entered to see Sofia, who looked over from the chair she was sitting in, go wide eyed as she glanced between me and Fionn. “Please keep an open mind Sofia. You’re relieved of your duties for the rest of the day.” Fionn walked over to the door to where I was. “Do anything to harm her and I’ll do threefold to you,” Fionn whispered to me, before addressing both of us. “Close my door when you’re done.”
I looked over to Sofia who averted her gaze. Fionn really had done little to help get things started.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this. You should leave me behind. You’d be better off that way,” Sofia said, breaking the silence, as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“Do you want us to leave you behind?” I sat next to her. She didn’t respond. “I’ve been left behind enough times to know how much it hurts. Plus, I don’t see what makes you say that? If anything you were a huge help when you saved me in the woods.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’ve reached the end of the path,” Sofia said, with a monotone voice. “The gods no longer see me worthy for their gifts. No matter how much I pray. No matter how much devotion I show. I’ve reached the end and I need to accept that. You might not think I’m a burden now but I will be. The gods have no more use for me since I saved you. It’s better you find someone else and go on without me.” Her delivery felt like a script she rehearsed until she had no passion nor sorrow when delivering it, despite the fact that she wore them on her face.
I took a deep breath and waited a second. Why did this fall to me? I wasn’t fit to give emotional support, though I knew well enough that was what I signed up for in this. Had this been any other problem it likely would’ve been an easy fix. Forcing myself not to speak, we sat there for a bit. A slew of bad responses flowed into my mind that I struggled to filter out. Sofia didn’t do much aside from looking down and occasionally fidget.
“How long have you been trying to accept that?” It was the first maybe acceptable thing I thought to ask. Sofia didn’t answer. “You don’t want to accept that right?” Sofia didn’t answer. I paused for a bit. “Before they ascended, who gave the Severance Gods their power?”
“W-what do you mean?” She finally responded.
“When they were mortal, who gave them the strength they used to prove themselves worthy of godhood?”
“L-lord Strolph made a pact with Mavalian the Blight Bearer to gain some of his power,” Sofia answered, tinged with uncertainty.
“While that is true, it’s also true to say it was Strolph’s greatest mistake and he fought against it to gain the strength he needed to overcome it. That’s a fair interpretation, correct?”
“I-I suppose?”
“There’s also Stultvultan, who many considered predestined for ascendence. He rejected his so-called birthright to find his own path to godhood.”
“Are you testing my knowledge or devotion?”
“Neither, that’s not the point of this,” I replied, if anything I was testing how much I remembered. “While there’re many types of power, the kinds the gods used to ascend weren't freely given to them. Some like Corlyn were undoubtedly in better circumstances than others, but regardless they fought and strived to grow, to nurture that strength. They made themselves worthy of divinity. When they were freely given power it didn’t serve them; they were made to serve that power. If you’re not capable, then how are you fighting and striving for the strength you seek?"
“That’s- It’s not the same. Only through devotion and reverence can we be blessed with new spells from the gods. I’m not meant to make power, I'm trying to serve the gods.” Sofia said. Somehow sinking deeper in her chair.
“That’s not how anything works. The kind of power you want, magical strength, you need to take for yourself. Make it yourself. Plus, when it comes to blindly serving the gods wouldn’t that go against everything the gods themselves did when they were mortal? If you're lost because you don’t have a special path laid out for you and you alone, then follow the one the gods themselves once walked. Strive for what you want, show the gods you’re worthy.”
Sofia was quiet for a bit. Likely trying to workout a rebuttal. “B-but, it’s what the church and scriptures say. You must devote yourself and find their favor. To be granted their blessings.”
“Did the gods write the scripture or make the church? If you were a follower of the Mortal Gods or the Unnamed Gods it might be different, they’d appreciate your unwavering devotion more. If the Severance Gods desired unyielding devotion, why aren’t they bestowing their most ardent followers with all the spells they can give?”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“I-I don’t know. I can’t do that. I’m not capable… I can’t…” Sofia said.
“You can. I’ll help you. The gods haven't abandoned you. They’re waiting for you to be strong enough that they can give you more.” I faked a smile after having said that.
As far as I can guess it’s not like the gods themselves could refuse either. So long as Sofia believed, which she does, and was strong enough the ‘equal treatment’ would apply to her as well.
“I-I’ll believe in you then,” Sofia said, a new flicker of hope showing in her eyes. One I doubt had ever truly left her, but needed a push to be resparked.
“Great! Then let’s head out and see what we can do.”
Despite my attempt at a motivational declaration the execution thereafter was lackluster. Instead of getting right to work healing people, the initial momentum was lost as we ended up needing to walk for around an hour to get to the southern slums that Clair mentioned. In hindsight I wish I took Glenn up on his offer to tour the city, and might've found more convenient places, though surely he only knew the richer parts of the city.
The weather was nice enough at least. Summer was in full swing. Even though Firstlanding was at the southern most part of the continent it was still well in the north meaning it was only around 80℉.
“How many times can you cast Heal?” I asked Sofia on our walk.
“Umh, maybe around ten times?”
“I see, and is that at your maximum or currently?”
“That’s what I can do right now. At most I can do eleven.”
“I see. Do you use your spells and mana much in your day to day duties?”
“N-no.”
“That’ll likely be part of the problem with your slowed growth. If possible try asking Fionn to get you into a position where you can do more spell casting or just make time to heal towns folks or something. The more you exercise your magic the more it should grow.”
“I-I understand, maybe.”
“That’s all assuming my assumptions are correct. I’ll explain it all to you later, but the key is making sure you keep practising and working on what you can do. What exactly does heal do?”
“I-err it heals people?”
“I mean clearly, I meant more about its extent and limitations. It’ll be good to know what sort of things it can cover.”
“Oh, right. I’ve been told it makes natural healing faster. It can’t regrow limbs or anything if that’s what you mean.”
“I see.” I looked up to the sky, I’ll need to try to keep an eye out for what can naturally be healed then. Though I imagine there was more there, I’m fairly certain people with Aura naturally heal quicker than those without. How do those two play together?
Eventually the southern gate of the main wall was in sight, after leaving through it we came across a more downtrodden section of the city. The main road to the wharf continued undeterred but a second unpaved path eastward led to the slums. The buildings were made of wood that had seen better days with arches and fixtures from ships that seemed like they were added on haphazardly over time. The area looked as though it was forced to build up instead of out. Likely due to the limited space between the main city wall and the southern monster wall. The place reeked of human waste. Something I realized I hadn’t noticed in the city proper.
There wasn’t really a main street we could follow, rather a mixture of alleys of various sizes. Without a clear objective I picked a direction and figured we’d run into something. We followed the sound of someone coughing.
“I can only cast Cure Lesser Illness eight times,” Sofia said, looking at me as we came across a haggard looking woman wrapped in rough linens. If anything food would’ve been of more help than healing, but our charity was more an act of mutual interest rather than of altruism.
“I can’t pay you,” the woman said with a scratchy voice, looking up at us and with the cough that led us to her to begin with.
“Eight times? That’s fine. Our goal here’s to train your magic use. How we do that shouldn’t matter,” I replied quietly to Sofia, ignoring the sick woman.
I didn’t want to care, but I did. Individual assistance could only go so far. Though it was another thing knowing that only a few months ago I could’ve made a better life for not only her, but everyone here. It wasn’t like any of my players were really interested in a campaign centering around solving poverty when they could be fighting monsters. It’s not like post-scarcity society can’t still have its own problems both politically and with literal monsters knocking at the walls. For these people to suffer in this way was a choice I made. Perhaps to be fair plenty of my players had backstories where they grew up poor and were looking for a better life. That was just shifting the blame.
“[Cure Lesser Illness],” Sofia chanted, casting her spell. What I heard in that strangely familiar language was: ‘Oh gods I beseech you to shine a divine light upon the afflicted before me. That you may banish this malady.’
The woman's breath eased and color returned to her face. I pulled Sofia along for us to keep going, perhaps a bit too hastily. Neither Sofia or I were in a position to do much more for this woman.
I’ll have to learn to harden my heart and accept that people have, are, and will be facing hardships, misfortune, and far worse because of me and my choices. Those I made when I controlled everything and those I have yet to make to survive. I won’t lie to myself, claiming I can change things with pacifism alone.
When I made this world, I didn’t often stop to think about how things could've been made better. I mostly thought about how much worse people from my old world could’ve been to each other if they had magic and gods to egg them on. How spells could be abused and twisted. If I’m feeling guilty at the sight of poverty then that would be a weakness I’ll need to overcome. There’d be much worse, I’d need to contend with. I looked over to Sofia who I was still dragging, remembering what Fionn told me. There’s far worse to be had here.
“Thank you!” The formerly sick woman called out after us. I kept leading us until we turned a corner.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” I began, looking for a distraction, “do you know what language you speak when you cast your spells?”
“O-oh, yes. It’s the language of the gods. When I received spells the words came to me. I don’t know what they mean. I don’t think any mortal can, but if I recite them then their effect happens. It… it sort of comes to me.”
“I see. Does anything weird happen if you mispronounce the words?”
“It can be a little wrong but too much and the spell doesn’t take effect.”
“Interesting,” I said, continuing to pull Sofia along. “Is that the delineation between tiered and untiered magic for clerics? The prayers?”
“Umm, I don’t really know. All the spells I know require prayers to activate. When you are blessed with a spell from a god you sort of know how strong it is.”
“Hah, that would definitely annoy me,” I said. Sofia didn’t respond to that, ending the conversation on a bit of an awkward note as we kept walking through the slums.
A little later there was a wider opening in the endless maze of poorly planned alleys. It was a fairly large nearly octagonal shaped market place. There were a number of people gathered around. I wasn’t sure if this marked the center of the slum or just a social hub of sorts. There were a few street vendors haphazardly set up selling wares of dubious quality.
I scanned the area and spotted a man walking by his arm was crushed and mangled. At the very least I sympathized with him after my encounter with the direwolves.
“Excuse me, we’re from the church. Would you like us to heal your arm?” I asked him.
“Don’t bother,” he grumbled, moving past us. “I can’t spare the coin for that.”
“That’s fine, since we’re not taking payment.” He raised an eyebrow at this. I gestured to Sofia and she cast her ritual heal spell on his arm. It took a while for the spell to finish, but eventually the man flexed his arm. It wasn't perfect, but it was better. In hindsight doing this in a crowded area wasn’t the best course of action. Several others took note and began to gather around. I looked back at Sofia whose face had gone pale seeing this.
“What’s wrong?”
“I-I don’t want to keep being the one who decides who I save and who I leave to die.”
I look at the forming crowd. I didn’t think it was that dire at a glance. “I’ll do it for you then. What more can you cast?”
“Umm, maybe eight or nine ritual heals or six Cure Lesser Illnesses.”
“I see, ugh why is magic some stupid linear programming problem,” I said, rubbing my head. Healing would probably be more useful for people so let’s just focus on that. “Alright.” I said, speaking up to the forming crowd. “We only have seven heals to go around, we’ll be prioritizing care takers and gravely injured children.”
I only claimed seven in case there was someone in serious need of an illness being cured. Some respectfully bowed out, others required some corralling and arguments. The man whose arm Sofia healed decided to help us organize the masses. After a bit we had our seven. Some other people who caught word of what was happening arrived after our selection had finished. I had to turn them away. Making some empty promises of us coming back, not that I knew if we would or not since it depends on Sofia’s resolve after this. Though, I could see why Sofia didn’t enjoy picking who was healed and who wasn’t. It was draining.
Sofia was healing the fifth person when a strangely well dressed slim man showed up. He wore a brown vest with a gray undershirt and had slicked back dark hair that made his appearance more put together than the rest of the crowd, though far from fancy or refined. He was flanked by two much broader and burlier men on both sides. Their outfits were closer to matching the residences than the slim man though they had visible daggers strapped to their hips. They were coming in our direction and those in their way were quick to move from their path.
The slim man locked eyes with me and gave a creepy smile. I had a feeling this was going to be trouble.
Is the POV narrator clear from the chapter title?
