Icarus Awakens

Thomas was sweating as he ran about Hand’s church, checking on patient after patient. He was doing the equivalent of fighting dragons, pulling double shifts and barely sleeping. He’d kept this up ever since coming back to Aughal. The church was staffed enough that they didn’t need him to do this, but Thomas was chasing advancement. Sure, he’d gained quite a lot from helping Khiat, but it wasn’t enough.

Silora’s deadline was near. He had made his decision, but if he wasn’t prepared then it would cost him years of his life. Sharise, the head Cleric of the church and Quala’s sister, had noticed but not commented yet on what he was doing. People could chase advancement for any number of reasons and she had no reason to suspect he was being coerced. Neither could he tell Sharise the reason for his ills without giving up on any chance for a normal life.

As if he needed any further reminders, a general call went out across the church, carried by members to other staff. “We are preparing for a Resurrection service. All clergy are requested to attend if they are not in the middle of a case. Attendants will see to acute needs.”

Thomas sighed, finishing the splint he was tying before excusing himself. Someone else was already entering to take over. The church didn’t just have Blessed on its staff. People didn’t need powers to have a drive to help others, and since you could learn to treat some ills without magic it made sense to train those with that will.

But there were some things only magic could cure. Such as death. The mood was somber as Thomas entered the main chapel. The lights had been dimmed, almost to the point that you couldn’t see the emblems of the Hand along the walls. The body lay on the altar. In another circumstance, this may appear to be a ritualistic sacrifice, but this wasn’t a victim of anyone present.

Thomas overhead the story while he was taking a seat somewhere in the mid-rows. It had been a murder from last night and there was concern of a repeat offender. The time of Aughal’s only known Cleric with Resurrection was very valuable and reserved either for those who could buy it, or for the public good.

Xavier, Thomas’ unknowing peer, had to be judicious with whom he brought back. Every life returned came with a cost: time. Upon use, his Focus would break and another couldn’t be bound for a full week at best. If you had to use the power on someone who was at a higher level than you, things got far worse. The first step increased the wait to a month instead of a week, and then a year, and then a decade. Beyond that, well, you might as well give up your class.

Despite having lived for a century himself, Xavier was only in the lower reaches of level 3. It didn’t matter if he’d hit his wall or not, he wouldn’t advance much further. The old man spent more time without a Focus than with one, and you couldn’t advance without a Focus.

Thomas barely paid attention as the ritual was carried out. You didn’t need all of the chanting and reading from the book of the Hand, but he didn’t begrudge showing faith and respect to the one who had given society as a whole the chance to bring people back. In truth, all Resurrection needed to work was contact with the deceased, and the willingness to pay the cost.

Xavier was standing up front by the body, and to Thomas’ eyes, he looked drained. Maybe at some point he’d felt special, and important for being the only person in the region with Resurrection. It was an honor, but also a burden. He’d lived a century, and every moment since awakening his power had been owned by Aughal in practice if not on paper. The church would never allow one of their own to be subjugated, but they also couldn’t just ignore the importance of Ressurection.

Am I being selfish? Thomas thought as he reconsidered his perspective and looked around. The family was sitting closest to the altar, a pew set out just for them like this was a marriage ceremony. They were the only ones that looked concerned that this wouldn’t work. Ressurection had a chance for failure, but that grew with time, and getting to someone within a day was practically a guarantee.

Anyone who died in the next week wouldn’t have that chance. If I revealed myself, I could take some of the pressure off of Xavier. We could trade out weeks or something. No, that wouldn’t work. The nobility would just insist that both Clerics be used as frequently as possible.

If Thomas was acting out of selfishness then he would reveal his ability. Money, power, women, fame, the nobility of Aughal would give him whatever he wanted to sway his judgment. Thomas didn’t want that. He wanted to help people and to be a Cleric.

He bowed his head, joining everyone in prayer, although he wasn’t focused on the one on the altar. Hand, why give me this? Questioning his god in the seat of their power, during a service dedicated to one of their greatest gifts, made him very uneasy. It showed how much he was doubting himself that he continued. You could have given this to anyone. Some other level 2 who wants to just come in once a week and bonk someone back to life. Me? Why choose me?

He didn’t hear a response. If the Hand told him, here and now, to confess his power he would without question. But there was nothing. The gods rarely contacted their followers. Calius coming to his aid for Khiat was more of a miracle than he should have expected, and if he prayed every day from now on without an answer he still would have come out ahead of the average Cleric.

At the front of the room, Xavier lightly passed his hand over the deceased’s eyes, and color returned to them. The family jumped to their feet and ran over. In the far corner of the room, a guard waited for an appropriate time to question the victim. Would this person have ever been brought back if the guard thought they didn’t know anything? He knew the answer, and he knew that no matter what, he did not want Xavier’s life.

Thomas waited until the rest of the clergy began standing, still barely paying attention, and returned to his duties.

…

Sometime later, Sharise found him. She must have learned he was advancing again and had come in time to stop him from reaching the trance. “Thomas. We haven’t had much chance to speak since your return.”

“Head Cleric.” Thomas bowed his head, hating how dull his voice sounded. “I can’t believe Quala’s staying in Threst.”

“My sister is where she is needed,” Sharise returned evenly. “I am glad she found an apprentice in you, though I doubt she taught you to disregard your health for the good of others.”

Great, Thomas thought, She’s here for a lecture. “I just want to advance. Get better so I can help people better.”

“Advance you have,” Sharise agreed. “And yet, to my eye you still have some level disparity in most of your attributes, which makes me wonder where all that potential is going.”

“You’ve been spying on me?” Thomas kept his voice from sounding accusatory since he otherwise respected Sharise. Almost as much as he did her sister.

“Quala wouldn’t forgive me if I let someone she cared about go astray.” Sharise gave him a piercing look and Thomas knew at that point that even if she didn’t know everything, she suspected a lot.

“I have to do this.” She wouldn’t understand, but neither was there much she could do. Oh, Sharise could banish him from this region’s church, and that would hurt. But they both knew she wouldn’t do that.

Sharise drew closer, speaking with a firm voice. “If someone is putting you into a dangerous position, or if you are trying to improve a power to heal someone, then tell me.” She looked at him, worried. “A mortal’s advancement path is their own, but you are making a mistake. This could set you back years or worse, make you hit your wall. What you saw and experienced in the Thormundz could make anyone want to grasp for more power. There is always someone here you can talk to if you need to.”

It could hurt me, sure, but I make up for it on the other side. Thomas sighed and tried his best to keep his voice steady. “It’s not like that. I just need to be level 3.”

“Why?”

He wanted to answer her, but he was trapped. It was as she suspected, but telling Sharise was just as dangerous as advancing to level 3 with an endurance of 17. “I can’t tell you.”

“Is this what Quala would want you to do?” That was a low blow.

“I’m good. Really. Please, just let me do this.”

The head Cleric stared at him and then sighed. “When my sister learns of this, you are going to tell her I tried to stop you.”

“Yeah.” Thomas closed his eyes, then cried out when sharp talons dragged him up. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to stop you.” Sharise began dragging him away from the quiet meditation rooms within the church. There was no malice behind the action, but neither did she relent.

“You’re kicking me out?”

“Yes.” Her tone made it clear this was not exile. “Please, come back when you are ready to talk.”

Sharise gave Thomas the dignity of walking out, at least, although the look in her eyes hurt more than being thrown out. It wasn’t disappointment, just… Ok, it was disappointment. The kind people felt before someone was going to make a mistake, not after. Thomas sighed as he walked out the front door.

The Divine Quarter had been one of the first to be caught up in the wave of new renovations, and the painted brick adorned the structures built in their traditional pattern. There was flexibility in how each city and region constructed theirs, but there were always common elements such as the layout.

Not many took notice as Sharise didn’t slam the door and Thomas didn’t storm away. He just walked, taking note of the sky and speeding up just a little. He was getting to level 3 tonight, and if he had to advance in an inn instead of his church, so be it. He still had a room at the Painted Dusk even though he spent most nights in the church. It wasn’t that expensive, and with there being fewer travelers with everything going on, the innkeeper wasn’t rushing to vacate the room.

As Thomas walked for the main road out of the quarter, someone tripped right in front of him, scraping their knee on the stone. Instead of the packed sand that made up most of the roads, the Divine Quarter had a proper courtyard. Knee-skinning stone and all. It was a young human, and Thomas only hesitated for a moment because they were wearing a symbol of the Cloak.

“Here, let me.”

“I shouldn’t keep you,” the other Cleric said, making to stand before Thomas stopped him. Despite level disparity working against his strength, he had no issue holding the younger man down. The Cloak Cleric must have had the same issue and a lower level.

Thomas didn’t squirm at the sensation of broken skin below his hand. When you awakened Healing Hands, you quickly got used to that. The man’s face did give him some pause though. “Hey, I don’t know you, do I?”

“Me? No. Do I know you?” The younger Cleric was wincing slightly from the pain, but that was going away. “I’m Callister. Callister Bynes.”

“That you’re real name?” Thomas asked with a knowing smile. Trained in the Thormundz though he was, he’d spent a few weeks in the Divine Quarter after his family had found out what he’d done. There’d been plenty of time to learn the reputations of the other churches. Callister, the one supposedly named Callister, shrugged beneath his simple robes. Looking at the rest of him, Thomas was surprised to find no sign of a Focus. Cloak would be the church to have concealable Foci, but then again, maybe Callister was just that green. Or their church’s version of an attendant. “You’re not related to anyone high up in your church, are you?”

“No. I’m not really anyone important,” Callister replied innocently, in the way of someone hiding something behind their back.

“You shouldn’t lie to someone healing you,” Thomas said seriously, scowling. Callister looked frightened suddenly until Thomas smiled again. “No one’s not important. Now, I’d tell you to take it slow, but I gotta run.” And then he left, giving no chance for a reply. The scrape hadn’t taken long at all to heal and Thomas did have to start advancing if he was going to meet Silora’s deadline.

…

“Hey, Ev. Where’s everyone?” Thomas made it to the Painted Dusk in the early evening. He could have gone anywhere with a quiet space, but he knew seeing his friends would improve his mood. In a twist of good luck amidst all of his misfortune, he’d found Evalyn sitting in the bar. Thomas needed to start, but there were things you simply made time for. Like someone injured on the side of the road. Or someone as beautiful as Evalyn.

“What’s that look?” Evalyn asked piercingly, and Thomas’ gut clenched.

She didn’t get a mind-reading power, did she? “N-nothing. Did the others come back with you?”

“Yep. Daniel’s up in his room with Hunter. Tak, Lograve, and Khiat are around here somewhere.” She took a sip of her drink and smiled. “My team’s getting our collective bounty for all the hunting we’ve been doing today. It’s not too late to sign back up if you’re hurting for coin.”

Thomas chuckled, both knowing she was half-joking and that even if he didn’t have a shavi holding a crossbow to his future, he wasn’t interested in hunting. “Your team? You’ve kept that up then?”

“Why, you think it should be Daniel? Or Hunter?” She laughed, expecting a grin from him. He didn’t disappoint, but maybe something was off with his face because she narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on? You can’t normally look at my face for this long. Wait.” She shook her head. “I get it. You’ve been back in the city for a few weeks, and now with daddy’s money and name. I’m sure you’re pulling at least one good time a day. You probably don’t have to pay for some of them. Do I not look that good anymore?” She elbowed him and he looked away.

“I’m hitting level 3 today.” The confession slipped out before he could stop it. In truth, she did look that good, and he couldn’t find it in himself to lie to her.

His quiet answer was punctuated by the shattering of Evalyn’s mug. They were glass, the material being somewhat plentiful given the bounty of sand, although the process was not refined enough to make the clear, durable kind needed for windows. Evalyn’s best apologetic smile couldn’t mollify the glare the bartender gave her. “Damn you Thomas, I’m probably going to have to pay for that! We don’t have the money from all those hunts yet. Don’t joke like that.”

“It’s not a joke.” His steady eyes and lack of smile made her pause. Thomas looked down, one finger rubbing into the wood of the table. “You know how it is for people like me who don’t want to almost die every day. I got my wisdom to 25 when we got out of the Thormundz. Put a few into charisma too.”

“Of course you did. But Thomas, this is insane. We all advanced a lot from what we survived, but there’s no way you’re at level 3.”

“I kept going with wisdom after that,” Thomas said, not reacting to her words. “It’s at the brink now.”

Evalyn thought for a second. “You’re taking on that much level disparity? Thomas, that’s how Kob died!”

“But I’m not fighting anything, am I?” Thomas challenged, getting just a little angry that his friends couldn’t accept that. “It’s… it makes sense! Everything I get from now on will be level 3. I’ll be a healing powerhouse.” He stood, making for the stairs. “I need to get started.”

Evalyn stood to follow him and felt a burning gaze on her. No power, but a function of societal awareness and a debt owed. She looked between the barkeeper and the retreating Cleric, felt a little guilty, and then charmed the avianoid covertly before running upstairs. That wasn’t so bad, right? She was going to pay whatever she owed. At some point.

She just caught the door before the Cleric closed it. He tried to force the bolt into the latch, but she was stronger. Some of the wood began to bend as the Bard made the moment into a brief contest of strength, but relaxed before she would have to pay for a door too. “Why are you doing this? You’re smart enough to know you won’t level as fast as you would, even with better powers. It’ll be harder to fix your disparity, and you could hit your wall!”

“I know!” The soundproofing of the room, complete now that the door was closed, saved the slumbering duskers from the argument. “Gods, but I know. I just have to do this.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“No.”

“Can we do anything to help you? Stop you from doing this.”

“No.” Thomas’ voice almost broke.

Evalyn considered her options and took the measure of their relationship like a jeweler with their scales. “Can I do anything to stop you?”

“Don’t do this to me now. I’ve made my choice.” He didn’t look at her, but there was no mistaking the implication in her voice.

Evalyn took a step back and frowned. “Are you under some kind of enchantment?“

“Flash Balance.” Thomas took the hand off his face and sighed. “This is my choice. Look, it’ll be fine. None of you are getting to level 4 anytime soon. I can heal you for a while before you advance past me. If you can.”

Evalyn exhaled suddenly, finding the wrong answer. “Wait, you aren’t close to your wall, are you?”

Thomas shook his head. “I need to get started and I can’t do that distracted. Could you let me do this, please?”

“I’m not distracting you.” Thomas stared meaningfully, and not at her face. “Fine. Just, come down when you’re done? We can celebrate at least. Everyone else should be here by then.”

“I’d like that. I just have to do something first.”

“What?” Thomas shook his head, not answering. Evalyn’s thoughts turned to the weeks he’d been away from them after Khiat had been saved, wondering what could have happened to cause this. She didn’t realize that the events had been set in motion well before Daniel had escaped from his captivity. She couldn’t have known, because just as the team had been keeping a secret from Thomas, so had he from them.

…

“You’re late! I’d almost…” Silora paused, thinking on whether she would have made good on her threat, and pressed on. “Are you finally ready? I want to get out of here as soon as I can.”

Thomas was almost a meter taller than the woman. The average shavi would be half his height and she was no great example of her species physically. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

The Fate peered closer at him, breaking out into a wide, sharp grin. “You did it! You’re level 3. Barely, but there. Not that I know why that matters, only that you somehow convinced me to wait another week for it.”

“I did it, didn’t I? And you’ll keep your part of the bargain?”

“Oh, yes, don’t worry.”

“If you don’t, I have people who are going to make you regret going back on your word.” Thomas’ eyes burned at her, the raw anger he’d briefly shown Evalyn now just the ashes of a spent fire. Silora thought for a moment to point out that she was level 5 to his 3, and then remembered who his friends had the attention of. And who Thomas was. A Kaysian. Not the most renowned name of Aughal, and if its current scion was any measure the family was in deep trouble, but they had the means to kill her if they wanted the trouble that would come with it.

“Fine. Not that I would go back on my word, but I understand your brutish threats. Let us be clear, if you don’t hold up your end, Rait will pass along my missive.” Said human had been relieved to be freed from jail only to be slightly crestfallen to find himself back in her service and then completely askance at being roped into a blackmail scheme. But Silora held him by the throat too, metaphorically speaking. Both of their freedoms were at her discretion.

“And if I do what you want me to? How do I know he won’t tell anyone?”

“Because he doesn’t know what you can do. Only where to find the information. If I’m going to be traveling with you, then I don’t want another reason for people to be hunting us.” She pulled herself up into her throne, looking down on Thomas for once. “Well, are you ready? I don’t think they’ll find out immediately what’s happened but we’ll probably have a day or so before someone checks that contract.”

“I’ve got the mana.” Thomas took a seat, collapsing into it and putting a hand over his face. “How are you going to do it?”

“I’ve given it some thought. Naturally. Poison was an obvious idea. My endurance isn’t the best,” she whispered almost scandalously. There was almost excitement in her voice. “But that could hurt. I don’t know, I’ve never been poisoned. When M- the Assassin was still here I idly thought about hiring him. I have some money and they can do it painlessly if they want. Although he’s gone now. A bow to the back of the head? Or a sword, something quick. But I need to be sure it works, it needs to happen how I know it will. That I’m not paying you just to bring me back into slavery again.”

“So?”

She looked at him and kept silent until he returned the look. “You are certain you can do this?”

“Yes! Just do whatever it is you’re going to do and let’s get this over with. The longer you hold your breath the longer I have to wait.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining about that when you asked for more time,” Silora harrumphed. She was afraid, but also anticipating something. Her voice shook for a moment, taking on an odd formal inflection, as if speaking words she’d already heard herself say. “I, Silora Thelonas, Fate of Aughal, willfully break my blood contract with this city. I exercise my exit clause!”

Thomas looked confused for a moment, thinking this was another joke. Then, Silora died.