In a week, the temperature dropped significantly. It reached the point where water would freeze in exposure to the frigid air. Which was quite worrying, as it would only get worse once the deep winter progresses. Unfortunately, I had to work outside, bundled against the frigid air, as I worked with my shape transformation circuit. Even with four air warmers constantly blowing heated air at me, the frigid wind still managed to make the entire process uncomfortable.
Derek's men were constantly delivering scrap iron, wood, and coal, which were piling up near the rear of my yard. Everything from pots, pans, nails, and horseshoes arrived in large crates and was dumped into a pile. With half a ton of spare wood piled up for the deep winter from Mar and Ashe's shopping, I had no worries that I would survive the winter in comfort. Not so for most peasants, dread was turning to despair. Opportunistic merchants were selling wood and fuel at a ludicrously inflated price. Any spare bits of cloth and sheets were flying off the shelves.
Trade was grinding to a halt as merchant caravans arrived in Grenwood in drips and drags, barely enough to cope with the insane desire for resources. But unlike those peasants, I had connections, and even though I had created almost 15 air warmers over the last three days, using up a considerable amount of fuel, I hadn't even touched my own stores.
Apparently, the warmers were for five different clients, so I only had to create five heat absorption rings to power them. I had an agreement with Derek; he paid a third of the cost up front, which was roughly two and a half golden royals. If he couldn't find any solid information on the orichalcum, he would pay the rest.
I didn't really care how much coin he was fleecing the buyers for. It was my understanding that so long as I was the source of his enormous profit, he would do all he could to ensure I was cooperative. So, along with my growing pile of half a ton of wood and coal, there was another pile of around 250 lbs of coal that I was using to create the air warmers. By my estimation, I only needed half of it to finish the project.
The baroness sent the same servant, Ivor, with the items I needed to repair. Usually, it was just fixing runes that were damaged or missing. After stamping in the final rune on the first energy ring and filling it with bronze. I made the binding between them and continued the series to the other airwarmers.
Using the shape transformation to make the detachable wands was difficult, but by linking both my hearth and energy furnace with the new circuits, I had more than enough power to perform the complex shaping. After a successful passive binding, I sighed and looked up at the sky.
The grey clouds hung low, blocking out the sun. In a deep winter, no direct sunlight would shine for another three or four months. This would lead to mass crop death and subsequent starvation. I had enough food to last Mar Ashe and me for almost a year. Even the worst winter never lasted more than a few months, so I, unlike every other peasant, was largely unconcerned.
I stretched and, after gathering all the items, locked them in my house and took to the streets.
~
The lack of horrific dread as I walked in my small territory was always surprising. Most people among the 45 stores I was responsible for had a small icebox, an air warmer, and a few other trinkets. The worry gifts I had received were largely uninteresting, usually tools or clothes. Peasants bundled in thick cloaks smiled and nodded as I passed. I even spread a rumour that I convinced Derek not to collect this month.
I entered Diane's brothel. Business, it seemed, was still going smoothly. Of all the businesses, this brothel probably had the most magical items. There were five air warmers in the main room alone. It kept the air warm enough for the women to still wear their scantily clad dresses. Silvia came sauntering over to me, brown hair styled in large curls with a waist-hugging blue dress.
She wrapped my arm up in a hug. "Sera, my dear, so nice to see you back."
"Nice to be back. Diane in?" I asked.
"With a gentleman at the moment, she should be done soon."
I wasn't actually in a rush, nodding to the bar, I said, "The usual."
"We always have it for you." Silva went around the bar, grabbed a crystal wine glass, and poured me a large cup of Arbor West. "How's preparation for the deep winter?" I asked.
"Good enough, we usually make out fine regardless of the winter. But with your trinkets, we might be able to stay open." She giggled at some joke and continued, "Some of the girls are taking resources to survive the winter as payment. Wood, coal, and things. Hells, we even have half a cow from some idiot."
Diane was useful enough that I made her three iceboxes, each could hold hundreds of pounds of meat.
"Those would become more valuable than coin after enough time," I mumbled
'Selling sex for beef, how amusing.'
"We are grateful to you, Sera. Simply ask, and I would be willing."
I spotted Diane coming down stairs, straightening her dress. And behind her, looking quite satisfied, was a man I would never have expected.
'She's smart enough to know the answer.'
"Confiscation, so I recommend you make a plan to hide those items away, the moment you suspect they'll come looking." Diane nodded seriously.
"Shame, but what if they break?" Diane asked.
"So long as the items are within 450 paces of the ring or energy furnace, they will function. That is why I make them all with metal."
"Quite a distance, I can arrange them to be hidden."
"And I keep no ledgers or records, so long as your girls can keep quiet, you'll have little trouble."
"What of you? Derek will need a replacement Lieutenant."
I stared at her, amused that she didn't see the obvious, "I believe he already has a replacement. I'll put in a word to him. And I recommend you befriend a woman named Colette."
Diane stared off into the distance, contemplating, "I believe I can do it."
"Very good. Now let's discuss how you should take control if I disappear."
~
I walked casually along the street, chewing on some roasted beef strips. I made myself seen among the people, reassuring them that the deep winter would not be a problem. Unsurprisingly, I ran into Jenna, walking with a man. Neil's profits were certainly doing good work. Jenna was wearing a beautiful blue linen dress and a thick fur coat. Some part of me was disappointed she stopped wearing the necklace I bought her.
No matter how many times she sought me out, I refused. Refuse someone enough, and eventually, they stop trying.
She met my eyes for an instant, and a small amount of shame shadowed her face. The young man was handsome, tall, well-dressed, and a man I knew. Lily's son []. By any measure, he was an excellent marriage partner for Jenna. The kingfisher was a successful business after all, with Lily's connections, Jenna's safety, and prosperity was guaranteed.
I gave her a simple smile and nod, and kept walking. Somehow, I stepped a little lighter.
'Goodbye Jenna, live a good life.'
~
I walked for hours perusing the main streets. Ashe and Mar were at my side with constant vigilance. Desperation filled the air as people tried to sell whatever wares they could. Fights broke out for wood and coal. I witnessed no less than two stabbings. The guards were frantic, trying to calm the chaos.
Then I spotted another building, a temple of Anier. The white stone building was dilapidated, and from the wide open doors, I peered inside, and found that it was empty. Sure, it wasn't an Eight-Day, but there were always a few worshippers.
With some nostalgia, I said to Ashe and Mar, "Wait here."
Ashe looked at me like I had grown a second head, "Uhhhh, alright, boss."
They looked at each other and shrugged simultaneously.
I stepped through the doors, observing the empty wooden pews, the stained white stone walls. Behind the dais and podium was a statue of the goddess Anier. A tall carving of white stone with wings outstretched. In one hand, she held a sword; in the other, a shield with a rose carved into the surface. The statue should be decorated with fresh roses, but it seemed this temple had not had proper upkeep.
I remembered, as a child attending the sermons, how uninteresting they were.
So lost in the memories, I was, that I didn't notice someone approaching from the right. "How can a servant of Anier assist you today, my child?"
Though he called me a child, the man was, at best, ten years older. He still had a full head of hair and a large beard, but no grey or wrinkles around the eyes to signal that he was in his middle years. He wore simple grey robes, old by the state of the fabric.
"Nothing, priest, I am simply observing." I stood in the center aisle looking up at the Dais. The man sat to my right at the front-most pew.
"What is it you are observing?"
I hummed, "Not sure, in fact, I don't even know why I entered."
"Do you wish to hear a sermon?"
"Sure, just let me skewer my eardrums before you begin."
The man chuckled with good humor, "Alright then, child, no sermon today. But surely you have a purpose."
I shrugged, still staring at the statue.
"Is your faith in doubt, child?"
'Should I blaspheme in the very church of Anier? Why not?'
"Hard to doubt something non-existent"
"Do you believe in the goddess at all?" He asked, sounding shocked.
"Not in the slightest," I said.
"I sense anger in your words."
'Did he really? I certainly didn't put any anger in them.'
"Do you know what a thrice-cursed is?" I asked.
"Aye, that means your childhood was difficult. Probably worse than most." He said, his voice filled with sympathy, for some reason, that annoyed me.
"For a long time, I blamed Anier; the rage within was all-consuming. I dare say that rage has pushed me to become who I am now."
He nodded with sympathy, "Men freely twist the words of Anier to suit their own needs." He sighed, "But remember this, Anier will always forgive, and will always welcome those within her bosom. No crime is unforgivable in her eyes."
I laughed out loud, "You think I am here for absolution, priest. Please spare me your words, for they will fall on deaf ears. I was serious in my words. I don't blame Anier for anything that's happened to me. Anymore than the sky and trees, it's just a convenient name to use in moments of stress."
"You have seen much for you to no longer believe."
"Oh, believe me, priest, I have seen considerable suffering. If there is a goddess, she is either uncaring or malicious to allow such suffering to exist."
He was silent for a moment, then spoke. "The goddess gives us free will, child, and with that comes both good and evil. "
I sniffed, "That sounds like a convenient way to remove blame from herself for the act of creating flawed people."
He chuckled, "You're rather pessimistic."
I shrugged, "I prefer to call it realistic. I have thought long and hard about the existence of Anier. In the end, I concluded that she is just a story. Created over generations to give peasants a reason to exist and create a system of control. There is no divine presence, no omnipotent mother staring at us with boundless love. The fear of being sent to the Stygian abyss is just a means of control."
"If there is no punishment for crimes committed in life after death, then what is to stop you from doing whatever you please?" He asked as if this were some great conundrum. I suppose for most idiots it would be.
I smiled at him viciously, "Nothing stops me. I do what I want to get what I want. I do not fear that which does not exist." Then another thought occurred to me. "Besides, if the only thing stopping a person from committing crimes is the fear of an eternity of icy damnation, then are they really good people?"
He nodded calmly, "That is a fair point."
I almost wanted him to rage with indignation like any other priest would, but he continues to act in contrast to my expectations.
"Then what of goodness, does it have no purpose?" He asked.
"Sure, a functional society can't operate if everyone is like me. The world will fall to chaos otherwise."
"You are surprisingly candid with your lack of morality, but I sense a lie there. No one is completely without goodness in their heart."
I laughed in his face, remembering the Baroness's party, "You need to get out more, priest. Witnessing the true depravity of humanity is something that would kill anyone's faith."
"On that we can agree, but what of you. Is there goodness within you?"
I shrugged, "I'm no machine, certainly there is some."
"You sound almost upset by the idea," He said, amused.
"It's an annoying weakness,"
"But why enter the temple? Is it just to confirm your biases? Test how a priest of Anier would react?"
"Perhaps, this conversation has been rather interesting."
"This weakness within you, the vestigial goodness, does it truly bother you?" He asked.
"Clearly," I said with a raised eyebrow.
"Why?"
"It interferes with my goals."
I could see his mind working. What he was thinking behind those eyes was unclear. "You say it interferes, but does it stop your goals?"
I shook my head, "No, never, but I could be more efficient."
"Perhaps you should return to Anier and bring forth that goodness. It will always be a part of you. I know the world has been cruel, but there is always an oasis in the desert."
'You disappoint me, priest. This was, as expected, a waste of time.'
"You misunderstand me, my childhood was difficult, but I have seen others suffer far more. Eventually, I found good people, honest, kind, loving, willing to take me in and love me as their own. If I remained, at this very moment, I would be happy and safe. I am not some abused child disillusioned with the temples from their suffering. I don't blame the goddess or anyone else. I made my choice."
He blinked twice, seeing me in a new light.
I continued speaking, "I do not believe in the goddess, by logic, by experience, by common sense. Anyone can see it's just a story created to give people structure, hope, and conformity. There is no eternal paradise, no Stygian abyss. There is us, and our limited time here."
The priest turned his gaze from me and stared at the statue of Anier, "I think you're right. Long I have prayed and never have I heard her voice, seen a miracle. I pray for the souls of those in this city in the coming deep winter, but I know deep down it will do nothing."
Never in my life would I believe a priest would say such things. He was blaspheming in the highest order.
I looked down at the man, utterly confused, "Then why do you bother?"
"You have something that gets you out of bed every morning, that consumes your thoughts, drives you forward unendingly?" He asked.
"Indeed."
He shrugged almost helplessly, "I have this. The words help people, if not tangibly then emotionally. Keeps them going, though their lives are difficult."
'And so he finally speaks the truth. He was just a charlatan offering people hope, even though in his core he knows it is a lie.'
"Just another weakness, to be expunged in the end," I muttered.
'It is as I expected, this vestigial annoyance that plagues me. I must carve it out, root and stem, then I will be free to act as I wish.'
I turned to leave, my thoughts settling.
'Just another weakness to remove Myr. You are close to being perfect, let it all go and you can be free of all hesitation or doubt.'
A chill fell over my mind as I contemplated how to remove that part of myself. I guessed it would be like those nobles, chipping away at it unendingly, until I could commit any sin, any depravity, without even the slightest change in emotion.
"Wait a moment," The priest said anxiously.
I turned to him, "Save your sermons for those fools, priest. I'll hear no more of it."
He held up a hand. Standing in the center of the aisle, his eyes were bright, lacking some of the doubt that had shadowed them earlier. "Just listen for a handful of moments. All I ask is that you think deeply and consider my words carefully."
"Very well," I said impatiently.
"That goodness in you, the desire to remove it from yourself so you can be as effective in your decisions as possible. It is cowardice born from weakness."
I stood there for a moment, carefully considering his words.
He kept speaking, "To act even in opposition to that spirit of goodness within you in order to achieve your goals, is the source of your strength."
'Interesting tactic. Where is he going with this?'
"Go on," I said.
His eyes became almost fanatical, "You have committed many crimes, you suggested as much. But did goodness stop you? No, you pushed forward through it. Through opposition, you grow stronger."
I almost wanted to laugh, "You, a priest, are telling me that I should keep the spirit of goodness within my heart for the sole purpose of strengthening my will? You don't even want to know the crimes I have committed." I was truly baffled by the man.
He nodded almost serenely, "Indeed, even so, continue forward."
'This priest has to be mad, but his words resonate so well. I expected him to make one last plea to come to Anier and embrace goodness, but no, he tells me almost the opposite. And damned if it doesn't appeal to me.'
I stared at the man, utterly pleased with himself. He changed nothing in me; all my opinions and biases remained the same. I felt like this conversation was largely meaningless.
The only difference was that I no longer felt it necessary to kill any ounce of goodness within myself. To become completely unfeeling to the world. It's not as if there was a significant difference between the two. In one case, I maim and murder anyone and anything as easily as breathing. In another case, I occasionally feel slightly bad, but I do the same thing regardless.
I could see in a way how constantly fighting against that inner goodness could be a strength, like a large oak standing strong against the wind. It is what brought me to this very moment.
The more I thought about it, the more I found it acceptable. And slowly, the idea to rid myself of any kind of morality, to become a pure, unfeeling creature in pursuit of my goals and nothing else, died. I would continue as I was.
'And so, the power of words demonstrates itself again. You chose your words well, priest. I'll admit that. Though I do wonder what I would have become if every ounce of morality were culled from me.'
I looked at the man standing there, serene. Then I looked at the statue of Anier, a small amount of suspicion crawling up my spine. I rid myself of the thought immediately.
'No, don't be ridiculous, Myr.'
"What is your name, priest?" I asked.
He smiled like a father, "Just remember me as a priest of Anier, that is all I am."
'What an odd man.'
"Good day then, priest of Anier, I will consider your words," I said. With one last glance at the statue. I turned to leave.
"Good luck to you, my child. Anier's blessings upon you." He said as I walked away.
~
I walked with Ashe and Mar back to my territory. They were silent, respecting my internal contemplation. That hesitation and regret I felt while killing the bandit boy or working for the baroness. It wasn't an enemy but another source of strength. I've always had to strive against adversity, pushing forward through a river of mud to gain everything I have.
A muscle only grows stronger when under tension, after all.
'Yes, yes, I like this. Fight everything constantly, never become comfortable and complacent. Everything is an obstacle, not just the world, but even myself.'
The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.
'Occasionally, like the girl and Junam, I would feed that bit of goodness in me. Keep it alive to fight against, always conquering it and growing stronger.'
Finally, that part of my mind, that vestigial part, that still feels for the world and others, settled in my mind, bringing serenity.
I turned onto my street to see a group of idiots harassing a butcher, angry at his overinflated prices, one idiot had a blade in his hand. Usually, I wouldn't care, but the butcher was under my protection. It wasn't surprising; everyone was terrified of the winter. They had probably had family: mothers, fathers, siblings who would starve and die. But I had territory to run, so I would not tolerate such behavior.
"Break their legs, let them starve in the cold," I ordered. "Their screams will be a suitable warning for others who believe their desperation is a good enough reason to threaten those under my protection."
Ashe and Mar were like animals attacking them without warning, beating them senseless. The idiots screamed and begged for mercy as their legs were broken. Ashe and Mar dragged them through the thin snow to the edge of the street outside of my territory. People studiously ignored the screaming men and went about their day.
The butcher handed me a freshly killed, plucked, and butchered pheasant with a smile, not asking for coin.
'I should make Ashe and Mar roasted pheasant, they deserve a reward for their good service.'