Chapter 6: Knowing Resentment

T’was midday by the time I arrived back at the Brick-Layer’s, solemnly standing before the front door I took a moment to breathe deeply. I knew I couldn’t possibly ready myself, for, for the deliverance of awkward and terrible news one can only do it. Preparation kills the moment.

I pushed the doors open and immediately asked for Vidal, speaking to two men who should’ve been standing watch, but were rather playing cards quite distractedly, who both, without looking at me, pointed towards the kitchen. The door into the building, otherwise barred, lay open.

I set aside my annoyance for their lack of compliance and arrived at Vidal, dressed now much more appropriately, in a fresh tunic, boots, and smelling of lavender, seated with coffee and bread at the head of the table.

“Vidal–Santiago’s injured, but okay.” I slowed myself down so as to speak without sounding out of breath, and did so as I pulled out a chair to join on his right.

He paused mid-sip to eye me, mouth agape. His cup tapping the porcelain was soft, timid, almost, and he took a moment to pat his lips with a napkin before speaking,

“How did Santiago get injured?”

“We were unexpectedly ambushed by a small group of men, and he took a bolt to the face. Thankfully, it did not pierce anything–.” He cut me off, screaming whilst his left hand smashed the tabletop twice.

“He took a bolt to the face?!” Vidal stood, furiously whipping his hands up and forward as if dismissing me.

“Okay, okay…” I spoke quietly, allowing him his moment of boiling rage.

“My life was fine before you waddled in and turned this comfortable gig into some, some… some ridiculously serious ceremonious bullshit!” He kicked out the chair from behind him, and I stood to face him, he continued,

“Who do you think you are?! That man was like a father figure to me! There for me, supportive, helpful! This is important and you’re ruining everything for me, for us!” His last words seemed to appeal to the men, his now-former compatriots, who had gathered behind me in a semi-circle at having heard the sudden fight.

“Okay Vidal, okay…” I was growing impatient, but I held it in, “Please, please allow me to reply and I will try to give you a satisfactory answer.”

Vidal’s left arm and hand tensed up, and he shot it into the air in a release of frustration, a nothing-gesture, a fury-flex, so to speak. “Speak.” He was cold and dry.

“Would you give us a minute?” I asked of the men, whose eyes, I followed, turned to Vidal who shooed them out of the kitchen. They closed the door behind them.

“Thank you.” I started, adjusting my waistcoat before sitting back down, gesturing for him to join me. He remained standing.

“What you have become at my will serves the greater purpose of helping Santiago. Although this is not its grandest purpose, it is larger than what I want. What I want, what I came here to do, is help Santiago at his request.”

In the interest of avoiding a perpetuation of this conflict, or worse, its worsening, I spoke as clearly as I could muster, uttering each word with confidence and clarity. Vidal, thankfully, seemed receptive, as when I spoke he lightened and loosened, and by the time I finished my first articulation he sat down, arms yet crossed.

“Your position with him must’ve given you the opportunity to witness the degradation of his holdings in the city. This little under-empire of his is in shambles from what it was when I helped him build it in the first place.”

“You helped him… in the first place?” He inquired of me.

“I was with him when he expressed the desire to make of this city, and by extension of it, Juhasz, his legacy.” I cleared my throat before continuing, “His purpose, in other words.”

“I’m sorry I… I was under the impression you were an outsider. I wish he’d said something.”

“You do not need to apologise to me, Vidal. You are not to blame for anything, here. Your ire is justified.” I was, of course, lying, but he didn’t seem to notice, looking off towards the ceiling, in thought, it glossed over him.

I continued, “What you are now is what we call Ascended. It means you have been given the opportunity to take a step up and elevate yourself, both physically and mentally, into something greater. When I say, elevate yourself, I mean this truly, because achieving this required you to succeed in your trials. I can only bring you to the gate, walking through is independent of outside influence.”

“The ritual? “ He asked, I nodded, and he went on, “That world was like a hell I couldn’t have imagined… Jack… full of horrors and these… these…” He seemed to struggle to find the words to describe what he had seen, rather moving his hands about incoherently in what I perceived to be an effort to give shape to the shapeless.

“I know, but I too cannot speak of it, Vidal. We all saw the same thing.”

I sensed this click within him. The lingering tenseness from his outrage relaxed, and was replaced with peppy curiosity.

“Your successful navigation of those trials proved to our Mother, she who gives life to this echelon above basal Humanity, that you were worthy of joining us. Thus, you are here, before me, and not ashes in the sea.”

I continued quickly before he could respond, as the proposition of death seemed to furrow his brow, “Your life is on track to become far more interesting and purposeful. Where Humans struggle with this sensation, having a purpose, finding meaning, we know it in our core, because we are greater and in direct service to a goddess who certainly lives, for she shows herself and communes with us.”

“Do you declare God to be dead, Jack?”

“The question of God is unanswered and irrelevant, but many of us still pay homage to him. I, however, serve Yhov alone.”

“Strange…” Vidal started to go on, but stopped himself, looking at me as if prompting me to elaborate.

“The gaps will fill themselves in as you grow into your new suit. In the meantime, Santiago’s incapacitation requires me to railroad you into a position where you can begin to exert influence. Thus, what was previously our mission, Santiago and me, has become our mission, you and me, Vidal.”

Vidal took a few minutes to give me a reply, pinching his brow, shifting from left to right in his chair, and groaning and grunting whilst he seemed to contemplate my exposition. Having come this far, pushing him at a pivotal moment would be too risky. He has to convince himself that this is necessary.

“What is your mission, then?” He finally asked, settling into a comfortable, albeit reclined and inappropriate, posture.

“Late-Rodrigo’s faction. He is dead, as far as I am aware, but his cabal is large and malleable; they are likely to recover quickly and resume status-quo. So, we need to make a trip to the heart of his district and attempt to discern their headquarters.”

“And once found, destroy it?” Vidal asked.

“If it’s within our power to do so, yes. However, if we run into other Ascended, which we are likely to, then we may have to leave it as a reconnaissance trip, and return when we are able to muster a plan of attack.”

“Other Ascended? I thought that you and Santiago were the only ones.”

“Applying that title is respectful, but misleading. To keep it brief, they are Astray. This is to say, they are abusers, they are ignorant, and they are selfish. Rude, yes, judgemental, yes, but it is not my judgement, it is the Mother’s, and I am merely reiterating it. They are like us, but they do not operate within the Mother’s veil, and thus upset the balance.”

“What is the balance?”

“Another matter that you will find explained in time and on your own. It would be unorthodox of me to instruct you in these things better discovered in solitude.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t bark back. I wanted to slap him, but he’ll learn. I went on to speak again,

“Once the balance of Juhasz is restored, we can supplant Santiago at its head and resume the norms we had previously established. As you can imagine, I am sure, this task is not small nor easy, and will occupy a great deal of our time over the course of this next year. The city comes first, then the countryside, and then the broader countryside, if necessary, so as to be sure that he will not again easily be threatened.”

“And we can’t wait for Santiago to recover before working on this?”

“No. Not anymore. The blow we inflicted is too visible and too serious to go without repercussions if we fail to act on it. They will strike back at us if they are allowed to reorganise their resources against us. This has to happen, we’ve started moving and we cannot stop, yet, at least.”

Vidal sighed very loudly, and pushed his seat back a foot to allow him to rest his head in his hands, elbows on knees. “Okay Jack.” He mumbled, muffled beneath his palms that massaged and shielded his face.

Vidal went on, “On the condition that you understand I am still mad, and that I still need time to think about this, for Santiago I will help you.”

“Thank you for understanding, Vidal.” I replied through pursed lips and tight teeth, “Take some time to talk to the men. I don’t want them wandering about on the assumption that I have betrayed their trust. When you feel that you’re ready, meet me out front. This has to happen today.”