Worlds Adrift Wiki
Advertisement

Section 1 MISSING


Section 2

A small and frail hand reaches through the opening and releases a disc of currency into my hand.

"Oh, Forgiveness, I am pleased to find you," says a slight voice from under the cowl, and I know at once poorly-disguised owner. I extinguish my lantern and commence my routine.

"What can I do for you, nameless one, under the sight of our holy Empress. I shall let no word slip, for I am Warlock of Forgiveness, empowered to listen, if little else, to your crimes and tribulations, in the hope that you may heal."

"But I cannon heal. I cannon," says the meekness beneath the cowl.

"If you speak it, then you may heal. I promise," I saw flatly. I can muster no zeal, so frequent is his patronage. He is a figure not just well-known to me, but to all others. Ah, but already I have said too much.

"I cannont bear this burden alone. I have lived a sorry life, and must confide in you. No other can keep my secret."


Section 3

Until now, I have said not a whit of these audiences. The gauze traps the words between my patron and I. The obligations of the ordainment are not to be taken lightly, coloured by the tradition of a thousand Warlocks of Forgiveness before me. When the hottest day comes, I ride to the southernmost bay of Ishgiru, and lie on a rock where by body is scalded. Only by suffering can the evils I have soaked up be purged.

But now, when the light of the world is blinking, the ground shakes, and the footmen who carry my palanquin stagger, that I defect. I become an informant. Dear reader, you must know at whose door lies the blame.

"You pushed her in?" I say with mock surprise, for I have heard it all before.

"It was not a push, but the gentlest touch, at which she flinched. She never let me touch her. Oh the way she fell, her eyes bulged in mid-air, and I saw awfulness there. Then she was down over the bank. When I looked, I saw her body bob quickly away on the white water."


Section 4 MISSING


Section 5

The stranger refers to our last discussion. His is a soulful urge we Warlocks have. A divine voice impelling us to take action, good or bad.

"You still feel guilt?"

"I must do what I do, it is the path of the Karem. Our forefathers would agree. But I am finding it hard. To destroy everything goes against logic. Though what goes against logic is often truth."

I nodded as if in agreement, though truly I was bemused. THe maniac voice meandered on.

"The path is dark ahead. None can hold a candle to this blackness in me. I must come to you for the comfort of last light, of the gloaming, and if you deny it, then I ask for pity."

"We must all make sacrifices. I shall say nothing of this," I said. At last he was finished. He bowed and paced away. I closed the curtain door, and sentenced myself to a nap.


Section 6

I am rudely awoken by a rat-tatting. Two visitations in one evening. I wonder if it is the position of the two moons.

"Goodness, what is it?" I say.

"It is I, the Nabob Vulio."

I sit bolt upright, discomposing the stack of cushions about me. I get my eye up close to the gauze. He is unrecognisably gaunt, unwell even. He coughs and splutters, and his catchpenny jerkin has ridden up revealing pleats of skin at his side, where the fat used to be.

"Vulio? What the bloody hell happened to you?" I say, but then I realise he must be here for professional support.

"I have come for forgiveness, Forgiveness."

He roots about in his satchel and pulls out his purse, pennies spilling out onto the cobblestone. He plants the whole thing in my votive cup with a crash.

"What can I do for you, nameless one, under the sight of our holy Empress. I shall let no word slip, for I am Warlock of Forgiveness, empowered to listen, if little else, to your crimes and tribulations, in the hope that you may heal."


Section 7 MISSING


Section 8 MISSING



Advertisement