Chapter 898: Raised In The Shadow Pt 3

No matter how much he did, there was always more to do, Beyn lamented as he faced down a desk full of paperwork. Whoever had managed to start creating paper in Renewal was both a blessing and a curse in the priest’s opinion. It was so much easier to organise things now, but the sheer number of documents that he had to deal with was almost dizzying. Or perhaps that was just the mana deprivation…

The priest raised a hand to his temple and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the moment to pass. Immediately an aide was at his elbow.

“Are you alright, head priest?” he asked.

“It is nothing,” Beyn waved him away. “I simply need to return to the Dungeon, I am not currently acclimated to the surface and it is taking a toll on me.”

“Perhaps you should rest,” his aide encouraged him, “you’ve been working for days now.”

Beyn frowned.

“I have little choice. The work must get done and I have to do it before I return below ground. I wish it were otherwise, but these projects require my attention and they shall have it.”

His brothers and sisters in the faith had expanded to the point where they had truly become a church in the truest sense of the word. The faithful flocked to the cathedral to hear their words, the ranks of the antspeakers grew every day and the donations the people provided, despite being asked not to, had to be diverted to worthy causes. The orphanage needed more funding and the cathedral would provide. So many poor children were left without families after the disaster that it broke Beyn’s heart. When the Colony had learned that these children were without family, food had begun to arrive on the orphanage doorstep within the hour, grown fresh in the fields below. Diplomant had been openly confused at the concept. Although the ants intellectually understood that every human was not part of the same family, it still didn’t make sense to them on a fundamental level. Since all the people of Renewal lived together in harmony, then they were one Colony, surely? And if they were one Colony, then they were family. That is only right!

Just another way in which they teach us, Beyn thought.

Still, the forms in front of him had to be dealt with. The next one came to his hand and he forced his tired eyes to focus.

“Mission to the farming communities,” he read aloud before diving into the document.

More and more smaller villages were being established across the former territory of Liria and even extending into the border kingdoms. The ants had even expanded to the site of the former capital and established a mighty hill there, sweeping aside the rubble and destruction Garralosh left behind in a matter of weeks. Wherever the ants went, the people were sure to follow and a small community had left to establish a new steading there, unafraid of the Dungeon entrance that the Colony now guarded.

This was wonderful, of course. As the people spread, so too did the new way, which lifted his heart and nourished his soul. Yet these far flung communities were no longer able to attend the cathedral, could no longer be nourished by the teachings of the Colony, which was a tragedy. He quickly skimmed the proposal. Sister Yowyn had gathered a team of ten who were willing to go on a two month mission to the villages, preaching and assisting the people in whatever way they could.

Beyn brushed a tear from his eye. Truly, wherever there was a need, his brothers and sisters would step forward without hesitation. Their hearts were so pure they shone like mirror glass. This endeavour must be approved. Things would grow more difficult for them here in Renewal and within the Dungeon beneath with ten of their number away, but they would rally together as they always did. The work would get done.

One matter dealt with, another quickly followed as Beyn drew another paper from the stack and began to read. He worked long into the night, long after his aide had left and the town had grown quiet. A solitary lamp was the only source of light in the office in which he worked at the rear of the cathedral. Distantly, he could hear the hum and mutter of the few souls still within the nave offering their devotions to the Colony but no other sound reached his ears as he continued to work.

“You are diligent.”

“There is just too much to do,” Beyn replied absentmindedly, passing another paper to the side as he reached for the next.

“We did not expect that you would need to be reminded of your path so soon.”

The priest frowned as he continued to read.

“I tread the path as carefully as I can,” he muttered, “I strive to be an example to all.”

“You are an example to all. That is why we have come.”

The light flickered and Beyn’s eye twitched, jolting his mind from his work induced stupor.

“Who is talking?” he asked as he put the page down, looking around the sparse office, seeing nobody. “Diplomant? Is that you?”

No, she had remained below ground when he came here. She had matters to attend to in Rylleh, something to do with trade… and coffee? He couldn’t remember.

He felt so tired.

“Where are you?” he called again, “I’m afraid I cannot see.”

He froze. Had he heard that voice?

Have you come from the Colony? He used his new method of communication, turning mana into pheromones to speak as the ants did. I bid you welcome.

You have sought to live as the Colony lives. But you do not.

How can you?

The Great One has demanded that all seek rest.

Yet they do not always do so.

There are those who enforce amongst the Colony.

Those who seek to ensure the word is followed.

The others rest because they know it is right. But also…

They fear.

You do not fear.

How can you?

You have lived without the consequence of transgression.

Did you think it would last forever?

Did you believe they would abandon you?

They would never.

Wisps of scent so faint, so ephemeral that he could barely perceive their edge drifted across the outskirts of his mind such that only if he reached for them could he hope to grasp the meaning.

“I don’t understand,” he said aloud.

You will.

The priest brought his hands up to rub his eyes. His eyelids felt so heavy all of a sudden. Was he really this tired? His thoughts moved sluggishly as he tried to grasp what was happening. He glanced down at the table. What had happened to his papers? He shifted his gaze to the lamp. Was it burning less brightly? Yes, he believed it was. In fact, as he watched, the light grew dimmer, and dimmer, and dimmer still, until the flickering light within barely reached the glass that contained it.

As the light had faded, so too had the sound. No longer could he hear the murmur of the faithful through the door, or the whispers of his brothers and sisters in faith as they tended to the flock. He strained his ears, but he could hear nothing at all…

“I don’t understand…” he said again, a tinge of fear in his voice.

You will.

There was a hand. The light was gone. Consciousness faded.

Eight hours later, Beyn awoke in a comfortable bed with plush cushions and a stuffed toy tucked under his arm. As he sat up he realised that the pain he’d been experiencing in his hip was gone, and his hair had been cut and brushed. He’d heard of the torpor police of course, even seen the signs of their passing a few times, but he knew they were not to be spoken of. Now the Colony had ensured that the humans would receive the same treatment, to ensure that they did not stray from the will of the Great One.

“They truly care for us as their own,” he choked out, overcome with emotion.

When he had mastered himself, he turned to study the space he was now in a little more carefully. A row of beds, each with the same lush furnishings. A rich carpet covered the stone floor. They must be underground, he surmised. He turned to look the other way.

“Don’t say a damn thing,” Enid grumbled as she sat in her bed holding a steaming cup of tea.