All the Dust that Falls - Chapter 299: The Great Schism

Chapter 299: The Great Schism

Bee watched as Zeal and his followers slowly marched from the city. Her position on the wall gave her an ample view as they walked off into the distance, the long line leaving a trail of dust floating in the air. A trail that the white-robed cultists avidly tried to stifle with wet clothes.

She had better things to do than stand here and watch, but she couldn’t take her mind off of what had just happened. Something heavy weighed on her heart, something she couldn’t quite identify. A mixture of relief that the trouble was gone but also regret and anxiety about what was to come.

As Void had requested, they had talked doctrine and what a talk it was. It was actually less of a talk and more of a lecture. Void had gone on for pages upon pages of projected text, laying out in no uncertain terms her master’s thoughts on the matter of what constituted proper punishment for uncleanliness. She was proud of how close she had been to what her master had explained. She had been preaching the same thing for almost a year at this point. But even still, there were some nuances she’d missed and things she had taken special note of.

The amount of forgiveness that Void had for those who made messes was one such thing. According to it, messes were a fact of life. Humans made messes by simply existing, passively and actively. But it was also a duty to make efforts to minimize them and clean up after oneself. It was a novel concept and one she was having trouble grappling with, but it was hopeful and uplifting. And in every possible way, it contradicted Zeal and his beliefs.

That wasn’t to say she had been entirely spared. Void had heaped some criticism on her, too. It was gently phrased, but still, she knew there were things she could have done better. Many things. But as Void had said, she was still learning. And despite her master’s reassurances that she had done admirably, that didn’t mean she would allow herself to grow complacent.

Zeal, though, had taken all criticism with a stoic face, neither reacting one way or another. She had expected a direct lecture from their god to straighten out all of the cultists, and to some extent, it had. Many of the white-robed followers behind Zeal had fallen to their knees, weeping and begging for forgiveness.

Void had been more than willing to forgive them. Obviously. But Zeal himself had suggested a punishment for himself and his followers as atonement. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

The only punishment he would accept was exile or death, nothing less. And her master, being merciful, had granted him exile. Many of his people had followed, having seen that they, too, were guilty of his misdeeds.

Bee was reluctant to watch them go. They could have been saved, corrected, and brought into the light. But no, they would go with Zeal, and she had her doubts that he would actually change his ways. But overall, it was a good solution. The cult and those adherent followers who were too far gone to make the corrections that Void wanted in an easy, simple manner would be gone. They would not be in the city, causing problems and letting Arthur, the Warden, and Bee do their jobs.

Still, it made her feel hollow. There was so much more she could have done to head off this terrible situation. She should never have agreed to Zeal’s help. They could have taken the city without him. Then, he would never have gained this kind of influence. In fact, with the demons reacting the way that they had, she doubted that the city would have taken too much more damage than if she had recruited from her own people. She could have made her own organization in the city, but no, she hadn’t bothered.

When it came down to it, she hadn’t wanted to make Void do more than necessary. That’s the whole reason she’d gone about infiltrating the city to smooth its conquest. But instead, Void had to personally step in and lay down the law like that. It hadn’t been immediate, but that didn’t matter. It made her feel as if she had failed.

Her master had always taken a rather laid-back approach to the governance of its religion, and she had squandered its trust. That her master had to put its claw down meant that she had not done well enough.

A hand clapped onto her shoulder with such force it sent her stumbling despite her high level. The surprise drew her out of her misery. Turning around, she found Arthur standing beside her. He looked just as uncertain as she did and just as grim.

“Don’t take it too hard,” Arthur said. “This isn’t your fault. It’s far more mine than yours. I should never have let Zeal get such a handhold on the city when you were gone, especially not within hours of your departure. Clearly, this was planned. And we were not quick enough to stop him.”

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Bee shook her head. “No. This is my fault. Zeal should never have gained such power in the first place. He never should have been in a position to challenge you.”

Arthur cracked a grin, and Bee realized that she had fallen into his trap. “Then how can you say the same for yourself? You heard what Lord Void said. Everyone makes mistakes. And if this is something that I can forgive, then you can forgive your own mistakes as well. Besides, real harm wasn’t done. Not yet. There’s still plenty of stuff left to rebuild with.”

Bee looked out over at the receding marking of the cult’s passage. “I suppose that’s fair, but still. It’s never fun to be reminded of failure.”

Arthur agreed. He stood there for a few moments before Susan came up the stairs next to them.

She looked out over the walls and spat. “Good riddance,” she said. “Maybe they will find redemption, but I doubt it. Should I keep an eye on them, Arthur?”

Both nodded their agreement. “Please do. I don’t expect we’ve seen the end of those troubles,” Arthur replied.

“It’s possible that they come around, but I wouldn’t count on it. It’d be best if we always know what’s happening with them,” Bee added.

The three of them stood there and watched long after any signs of Zeal were gone.

—

Zeal walked away from the city with his followers, his head held high and a smug grin plastered to his face. He tried hard to wipe it away so that he could look back and stare at the uppity girl, the supposed “high priestess” claiming to know everything about the faith. Sure, sheep-like her were needed by a god, but he knew the truth. Lord Void had spoken and laid down their doctrine, but the doctrine was for believers. Doctrine was what you told people after you had conquered them after their hearts and minds had already been won.

But Zeal had read between the lines. He had understood the hidden messages that the Lord had snuck into his doctrine, unraveled them, and untangled them. It had been difficult but not impossible. After all, how could one god be held to such simple standards? No, there was far more that Lord Void needed to do. For those unsaved, for those unwilling to be cleansed.

And he was willing to get his hands dirty in the name of a spotless tomorrow.

But how could one such as him, one who went willingly to accomplish what was beneath their god, bask in Lord Void’s presence within the capital? No, that was for the cleansed. Those who had been saved and called to serve in their own ways. Ways that were different than Zeal’s.

The god had spoken its will. Their god had mentioned that human life was to be preserved. He understood that. But at the same time, mess makers needed to be destroyed. And some of the worst mess makers were human. Therefore, sometimes, humans needed to be destroyed. Clear and simple.

Zeal knew the task that he and the faithful had; the truly faithful were those who believed in scripture but were willing to enforce it. To give those beautiful ideals forming the religion weight. To strike fear in their enemies so that they would not be disrespected and more would be encouraged to follow the proper and good path.

It was a distasteful truth. He understood well Lord Void’s hesitation to do more than allude to it. Things that were not on this path had to be done. But eventually, Lord Void’s world would come to be such that everything was either clean or gone. Everything that was not perfect and beneath their god’s notice would be wiped away. The High Priestess would then, truly, be the established beacon of light, the merciful teacher of cleanliness.

But there had to be a driving force, just as a sheepdog forced the sheep toward the shepherd. He would be the darkness of the void. He would separate out those heretics who did not deserve mercy, leaving them to be scoured, while all those who had a hope of mercy would be driven towards that beacon.

Void had shown that himself when their god had taken their captives to jail. All those that followed Zeal were of one mind. They knew that they had been sent to do the “dirty work.” And as his second had put it, just as a king didn’t lower to take to patrol the streets himself, their god could not be bothered to clean up all of the human sins that were beneath him, especially in the other lands.

Zeal knew that he was no longer needed in the capital. That was his Lord’s demesne. He would watch over his flock there. But further out? Further out, his god’s presence had yet to reach so far. Zeal knew that he had grown complacent. He had stayed too long in the capital, trying to make things perfect in his way and the only way he knew how. But it wasn’t the kind of perfect that his god would accept.

But no, there were still places where his work would be needed. Places out there in the world where no word of Void had yet reached, where no fear of dirt had been instilled. His work here was done. The capital was Void’s, but there were so many places that were not.

As they crested over a hill, Zeal turned his congregation slightly, heading off to a new destination. A new place that would soon hear the good news. Perhaps he could find a better way to deliver this time. More quickly than just word of mouth.