Priestess in the Riot

The airship has descended. The vessel is too big to land anywhere in Korben, and hovers some fifty Length off the ground. Its massive twin metallic hulls reflect a blinding glare from the emerging sun. Below them, the iron-plated wooden gondola is abuzz with people running back and forth across its open bottom deck.

An anchor from the ship crashes down into the brick courtyard. The steel cable attached tightens up, and Imperial soldiers in long brown coats slide down, sparks flying from the braking handles they hang on by. The sentinels’ remaining contingent who didn’t run off to pursue the other Helbenders gathers in the courtyard, and their commanding officer orders them into a tight formation. Workers start to wander out from the refinery, and their families out from their homes. Some slam their doors shut and take shelter. Others head down to see what is going on.

Kurri and Perra are accompanying priest-apprentice Nisho down the shale steps toward the scene. Walking into that crowd as conspicuous as they were would have been absurd. Luckily they had their apprentice disguises to wear. So Kurri finds himself once again a priestess-apprentice of Thea. It may be sacrilegious, but if any sort of trouble breaks out down there, nearby medics could be the difference between life and death.

Perra passes for a girl well enough--he looks just like his sister anyway. Kurri isn’t so sure of his appearance, but Perra insists he passes fine. Ketha with their facial hair would not pass as a priestess before the eyes of Imperial soldiers, so they stayed behind at the temple. Once he and Perra were dressed--in their clean white robes sewn together with blue thread, embroidered with the runes of the four greater guardians, tied shut with a silk belt--Nisho left the temple immediately, and they followed him out of the garden gate and down the shale steps.

“Ready for our first religious mission, my fellow priestess?” Perra says.

“If you have to make a big deal out of it,” Kurri says, “I know, I can teach you to conduct yourself like a Theanist if you can tell me how to seem more like a girl.”

“Oh, why would you think I would know how to be a girl?” Perra says.

“Oh, but didn’t you, didn’t you used to...”

“You’ve got a few things to learn about changelings, Kurri. Nah, I’ve been a boy long as I can remember. Now, if Filla were here she would be way more useful to us.”

Nisho speaks, “I think given both your lack of experience as clergy, you’d better just let me do the talking here. It is fitting with temple protocol anyway.”

“Got it, taking a deeply personal vow of silence,” Perra says. “But wait, I look unmistakably Aran don’t I?”

“You think colonizers could tell an Aran from a Kogai? Their eyes aren’t that good,” Nisho says. “Just stay calm and let the image you wear be your shield.”

By the time they reach the bridge, a crowd has gathered around the edges of the courtyard. They keep their distance from the sentinels and soldiers.

Up close, the airship is huge and imposing, even if it is one of the Empire’s smaller vessels. Emblazoned on the iron sides of the gondola is a name--I.A.S. Deliverance. Eight K.D.F. troops have descended from the Deliverance. They have long brown coats buttoned up over top of white pants and brown combat boots. Their black helmets match those of the sentinel corps, except with a line of yellow around their edges. Each has a rifle in hand, with a sword bayonet attached.

Now an officer reaches the ground. She is the only woman among them, a tall and intimidating woman with white skin, light brown eyes, and blonde hair, cut short on the top and even shorter on the sides in the officer style. She has a shorter brown tailcoat embroidered with yellow thread around its edges, with black pants underneath, and no helmet. A rank insignia with two stripes is sewn into both of her upper sleeves. A short-barreled officer’s carbine rifle is slung over her back, and in her hand is a scroll.

The apprentice and his fake apprentices reach the edge of the crowd, and he motions to the people gathered there. They clear a path for the holy delegation.

“Brother Nisho,” an old woman grabs the sleeve of his robe. “What’s going on?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. But I aim to find out. Do not fear, the Goddess is with us.”

“Citizens of Korben!” the Imperial officer addresses the crowd. “I am Lieutenant Ilyssa Karrys, first officer of the Imperial Airship Deliverance. We have been dispatched to patrol this valley after recent terrorist attacks here in your town. We believe, given the recent engagements between K.R.A. terrorists and Imperial Sentinels, that they must be striking from a hidden location near this town.”

She opens up the scroll in her hand, it contains two papers. She holds the first one out to the crowd--an official notice of some kind. “The K.D.F. has decided to offer a financial reward for information that leads us to the discovery of the terrorists’ hideout.

“That said, we are not going in completely blind, thanks to one courageous sentinel who survived a skirmish with the terrorists.” She gestures to the sentinels and signs, “Come.” A sentinel steps forward. He has a bandage tied around his right hand, and a medal pinned to his coat. “Officer Gehls here provided a description of the terrorists he fought.”

Kurri recoils. He steps behind Nisho to hide his face. He had kept his head down for all of the battle that day, they shouldn’t recognize him. Yet, he’s shaking with fear.

Perra puts his hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’re just priestesses here. When you’re in a uniform like this, nobody ever looks past it.”

He squeezes his holy symbol tight.

Lt. Karrys unrolls the other paper and reveals it--a wanted poster, a sketch of a person who looks just like Razha. “This person is one of the ten most wanted terrorists in Kogaku--known as the Black Death. She has personally taken over a hundred lives. There is a substantial bounty on her head, and anyone who even supplies information leading to the capture of the Black Death will be most generously--”

The crowd is uneasy. Some gasp, some shout and point. Next to Ilyssa Karrys is a person who Kurri never noticed being there before. They have a black pointed hood, and dark goggles cover their eyes. A black leather mask covers their mouth and nose, woven with rubber tubes and hoses reaching down from their face to become entwined with their long white coat. Embroidered on their chest is a symbol of eight expanding arrows, in black. The robed figure turns the gaze of their dark goggles toward the lieutenant. She leans toward them as if listening to some whispered message.

“Oh, fuck,” Perra says, quietly.

“I’ve seen a person like that once before,” Kurri says.

“Do you know who they are?” Nisho says.

“Imperial Wizard.” Perra clutches at Kurri’s arm. For the first time since he’s met him, Kurri thinks he looks afraid. “It’s an--well, basically, an abomination of science and magic gone wrong. Nobody knows much more than that,” Perra says.

“Is it...human, under that mask?” Nisho says.

“The best answer I’ve got is, we ain’t sure,” Perra says. “But, some people believe the wizards can read minds. That could be big trouble for us.”

“We can’t risk being exposed like that. Can you keep your thoughts focused on, I dunno, being priestesses of Thea?” Nisho says.

“I’ll try,” Perra says.

“Um sure, I’ll try,” Kurri says. Temples, altars, rites and spells, he thinks of the life of a priestess, her emotions calm, serene, her mind unclouded, a complete person. He focuses on that. Blessings--he’s memorized at least the basics--he recites them mentally, over and over--specifically, protection from chaos.

The braver ones among the crowd start to step forward for a better look. The wizard turns its gaze upon them. One of the workers steps forward, approaching Lt. Karrys. “It’s bad enough y’all have our home crawling with sentinels, watching our every damn move. Now you’re landing gods damned troops in our town square. And, this?” He points to the Imperial Wizard. “What the Hel even is this?”

She takes a few steps toward him. “This is Unit 565, ‘Mirage.’ It is a soldier of Kogaku, just as I am. Do not be alarmed by the equipment it wears.”

The crowd shifts, with some in the front pushing backward. Some shout, and all are speaking amongst themselves in a cacophony of voices. Kurri looks back up at what has them so perturbed, and now there are two Imperial Wizards flanking Lieutenant Karrys. He never saw either of them arrive.

The officer speaks, “Unit 228, ‘Thundersnow.’”

“I’ve had about enough of the army and the sents and all their damned secrets!” The worker takes a step forward, and the whole crowd comes along. Some push to the front, pulling bricks up from the pavement. The brown-coated soldiers step forward and raise their rifles on the crowd. The workers freeze, looking to each other with uncertainty. Some start to break away from the front and fall over each other in their panic.

“Bad timing, y’all,” Perra says to his fellow clergy. “They ain’t got their guns yet, and the enemy has a lot of ‘em.”

Nisho pushes his way out to the front, with Kurri and Filla sticking close by him. He positions himself between the soldiers and the crowd, with one hand extended palm out toward each side. Perra and Kurri step forward, but Perra freezes as one of the wizards looks at him. Kurri stays behind with him.

The crowd quiets down as the true apprentice speaks, reciting an ancient Thean verse:

”War should not be fought
In the spring, the heavy rains
No good for fighting

Nor in the summer
In the scorching heat, the sun
Blinds every fighter

War should not be fought
In the fall, the dying leaves
Conceal every trail

Nor in the winter
At the mercy of the wolves
The frost will hinder”

Lt. Karrys gives a signal and the soldiers stand down, as the crowd slowly backs away. The sentinel formation moves in and forms a line facing the workers, with batons in their hands. The priestess-apprentices find themselves on the other side of it, standing before the Lieutenant, the wizards, and the soldiers, alone.

“I would certainly hear what you have to say, brother priest,” Lt. Karrys says.

“I am Priest-Apprentice Nisho, appointed overseer of the Temple of Thea in Korben. The Goddess compels me to remind you that unprovoked violence would be a most heinous chaotic act, and those who fall to the ways of chaos will surely face retribution of their own making.” He stares at one of the soldiers, who looks visibly uncomfortable, and looks away from the priest-apprentice’s glare.

“We came with no intentions of violence, you have my word,” Lt. Karrys says.

“No, you merely came in a giant metal war machine, with the most intimidating looking soldiers you could find, to threaten a village of poor, unarmed, hungry and blight-stricken laborers,” Nisho says. “Two years I have kept my temple, watching it slowly turn from a place of quiet reflection to a last refuge for the sick and dying. How many times did we file a request for aid from the state? Did you bring us medicines? Food? Clearwater? No, you came with guns and swords, not to help Korben, but to threaten us!”

The crowd cheers for him, and the Lieutenant looks a little shaken.

“Your point is taken,” she says.

“Then take your men and this metal affront to nature and do not return here to treat the very people you claim to protect like they are the terrorists you seek!”

Only a priest could chastise an Imperial officer and get away with it. She is probably not a devotee, Kurri thinks, but many of the people here are, and making an enemy of the temple may not be ground she wants to tread on right now.

“We will not disturb the life of your village. But we will be making regular patrols along the Black River, should you need us. I will personally look into the matter of humanitarian aid, and see that we do not return empty-handed.” She signals to her troops, and they gather on the platform of the huge anchoring hook embedded in the town’s brick walkway.

The crowd stirs as Lt. Karrys and her forces move in an unsettling harmony.

Ilyssa Karrys steps onto the platform last. “We are on your side! Don’t forget.” She signals to the ship, and the anchor lifts from the ground with the grinding of a motor up on deck.

The crowd shouts at them as they ascend.

“Empty hands, empty words!”

“You ain’t gone a day without water!”

“Flatlanders fly on home!”

“Hope you crash that bucket!”

“Take those monsters with you!”

Some try to hit them with the bricks in their hands, but fall short. The sentinels push them back, and some step back up to try and force their way forward. The sents swing batons, and Kurri hears some hard hits. Some of the workers punch back in retribution. The sents step backwards. The workers try to advance on them, but a few of them draw their pistols, and the villagers hesitate.

“It’s a bluff! All their powder is wet from the storm!” A worker steps forward. Others follow--they push the sents backwards.

Two of the sentinels behind the line pull glass bottles from their belts and throw them into the middle of the crowd. They burst into pale yellow clouds--those caught up in it gasp for breath, falling over each other trying to escape it.

Nisho tries to pry apart two of the sentinels from behind. “Stop this! Let us through! Let us through, we are healers!”

A sentinel turns halfway around and strikes him aside the head with his baton. Nisho loses his balance, and Perra catches him falling. The crowd is not happy with this. They charge, even unarmed, and push the sents back toward the bridge. Two of them are picked up and thrown into the black water. One panics and swims toward the shore. The workers stomp on his hands as he tries to pull himself up.

The sentinels retreat across the bridge, and the villagers pick up more bricks to throw at them, striking their helmets mainly, but at least one is hit in the face. They take up a defensive line on the southern side of the river, and the workers continue to shout and try to hit them with projectiles from across the black water.

By now the soldiers and their officer are firmly aboard their ship, but it lingers in the air, keeping its shadow over the town.

“Let him through!” a worker shouts. They clear a path for an old man. His brown hands lean on a cane as he steps onto the bridge. The wind blows his long white hair around behind him.

“Tell ‘em, Mikal!” another worker says.

The old man crosses to the middle of the bridge, while the sentinels’ most decorated officer walks out to meet him.

People come to surround Nisho as Kurri and Perra look over his wound. Tollin pushes his way through the crowd to sit by him.

“Nisho! What did they do to you?!” Tollin says.

“What is your name?” Kurri says.

“Nisho.”

“What day is it?”

“Uh, Zuday, Spring Decay.”

“What’s going on here?”

“That,” he points up at the airship looming over them.

“Do you feel nauseous?”

“Not that I can tell...”

“Hey Eliana, I’m gonna go check on the other wounded,” Perra says.

“Go, I’ll come help you in a minute,” Kurri says.

“I’m okay, he didn’t hit me that hard, really,” Nisho says. “Go take care of my village.”

“Okay, I will check on you later. Stay with him, Tollin. Come get me if he starts vomiting or loses consciousness.”

Tollin nods, looking down into the apprentice’s dazed eyes. Kurri heads into the crowd, and they make a path for him. There’s a kind of respect to the way they look at him and step aside that he’s never really noticed before.

“Priestess! Over here!” A woman waves him over. A few people are sitting on the ground by her, coughing and rubbing at their eyes. Kurri kneels down beside them.

“You’ve been hit with an alchemical weapon, try not to touch your eyes, or you’ll only make it worse.” He reaches into his bag for the leather flask of clean water he keeps separate from his drinking water, marked with red yarn tied around its mouth. “Okay, you first. Now sit on your hands so you won’t touch your eyes, it’s really important.” With his thumb, he rolls open the patient’s eyelid, and with a squeeze of the leather bottle, he sprays a short burst of water into his eye. He repeats it for the other.

“This holy water?” his patient says.

“What? Oh, no, regular water, but it’s clear filtered rainwater.”

“Bless you, dear priestess,” says a woman kneeling down by his patient.

“Oh, I’m not--I mean, I’m just an apprentice.”

“You’re sure to make a lovely priestess soon,” she says.

He washes out more people’s eyes until his water runs dry. Then he looks over bruises from the sentinels’ weapons. There is one possible broken arm. He ties a makeshift splint.

As he sits down to rest and have some of his drinking water, he feels a hand on his shoulder, and looks up to see Perra looking down at him.

“Kurri, the workers’ representative Mikal negotiated with the sents, they say they’re gonna allow us to take the wounded to the temple clinic,” Perra says.

“Are they gonna fuckin’ leave?!” a nearby worker says.

“Uncertain, they seem like they’re waiting for orders, and I see their commander signing with the officer up on the ship, but I can’t tell what they’re saying from here.” Perra stands up and addresses those around him. “Help us carry the wounded up and follow me.”

They head for the bridge with a few followers, either with injuries of their own or helping those who can’t walk. There they regroup with Tollin helping support Nisho, and they step onto the old metal bridge. Whatever that old man Mikal said to the sentinel captain must have worked, the sents are making a path for them. They form two lines on either side of the walkway to the shale steps leading to the temple.

The medics take slow steps across the bridge as it shifts and sways beneath them. “I don’t like this,” Perra says. “They could surround and capture us all if they want to.”

“Thea is with us here,” Nisho says.

“Do you really think your Goddess will protect you from the cruelty of the state?” Perra says.

“I think my vestments will. They won’t arrest three Thean apprentices in broad daylight.”

They step off the far end of the bridge onto the dirt road. The sentinels are close, with weapons in hand, but they stay still as they walk past. Kurri looks up at them. Their eyes are all on him as he walks past. He feels they can see right through him, but they remain still. He can’t tell what they think when they stand so still and silent. They don’t even seem like people, just statues imposing fear upon the town.

Once the medical delegation reaches the stairs, the sentinels suddenly break away. They split into two groups and run for the gates of town. The crowd across the river is in an uproar, still trying to throw bricks across the wide river. Some start to make their way across the bridge after the sentinels. But a piercing shriek from above stuns them.

Kurri has heard this sound, it’s feedback from an electrical sound amplifier. A booming low voice bears down on them from the sky.

“This is Captain Annosov of the Imperial Airship Deliverance. This is an unlawful assembly. You are ordered to disperse immediately.”

The crowd does not respond well. They stand their ground and shout up at the looming metal giant. Up on the open lower deck of the ship, soldiers stand with guns pointed at the crowd. But at one of the openings in the deck’s rails, an imperial wizard stands with its hands outstretched.

There is a sound like soft, distant thunder, and suddenly an extremely cold wind bears down on them. The air turns from a warm spring day to the coldest winter night in seconds. Kurri is paralyzed in the intense winter wind, fixated on the wizard as it weaves its spell.

“Kurri!” Perra takes him by the wrist and pulls him along. Kurri snaps out of it and helps his patients ascend the stairs. When they are halfway up he looks back across the river. The crowd is in disarray, fleeing to shelter. The surface of the river is icing over. The sentinels have fled, but the crowd’s cohesion is shattered as panic overtakes them.

Once most of the workers have gotten indoors, and Kurri and the wounded have reached the top of the hill, the burning cold wind finally ceases. The cold lingers under the shadow of the airship, until the drone of propellers echoes around them, and the oppressive shadow moves off of them. The Deliverance ascends away from them, and the sun shines down on the village again.

At the temple garden, Ketha awaits them, with Elliv and Maris and Lein. Perra runs up to his comrades. But Nisho freezes in his tracks as they approach the garden. Kurri stops, nearly running into him. The ivy encircling the wooden arch in front of them is withering and sickly. This yard, earlier a place of vibrant life thriving against all odds, now lays dying in the grasp of the frost.