No Good Deed

by Jerry Jackson

  Once they got past the foyer, they dismounted. Servants came and took their horses. The main room was huge, about 300 feet in diameter. About 20 feet up in letters large enough for a blind man to see, was the 1st directive: “No paladin shall ever strike down another paladin.” Various carvings and saying were strewn about the area, but that one caught your eyes first. Various doors went around about every 20 feet and in the middle was a desk with several people behind it, kind of like a hotel. Gheriballi walked up to it.

  “Greeting Mr. Triton, Mr. Grailann.” they paused for a moment, “Mr. Grailann,” the manager said, “I do believe this is your first time here, welcome.”

  “How do they know me?” Obidaan tried to whisper to Gheriballi, who was taking a set of keys and some papers from a clerk.

  “We know all the paladins, sir,” the manager said. “It’s our job. We are intimately familiar with you, the Vanguard, who are also welcome here, and your gods.” He rang a bell and a clerk seemed to appear out of nowhere from behind the manager, “Since this is Mr. Grailann’s first time…”

  ”Please, call me Obidaan,”

  “Thank you sir, but that is against the rules. We can give no paladin any special treatment; therefore we refer to all of them by their last name, except for Lucinda, who has no last name,” he cleared his throat after saying her name, implying they had gotten into an altercation in the past. “Anyway, here is a pamphlet explaining our rules and amenities. You will find we are a city that caters only to paladins. There is no charge for anything while you are here, tipping is strictly forbidden, and the rest you will find in the pamphlet. Here is the key to your room…”

  “I have my own room?” Obidaan was excited at that prospect.

  “Yes. All paladins have a room made for them the moment they are anointed. Though you have not been to yours ever, I can assure you it is cleaned and refreshed daily. A bottle of your favorite drink is already there, light snacks and fruits are on the table, and a hot bath has already been drawn.”

  “And on that note,” Gheriballi had been listening to him brief Obidaan, “I’m off. It’s been a long day and I need a hot bath, a good woman, please send up Rebecka, and some sleep. I will see you in the morning. Meet me for brunch at the Gored Boar. There’s a map in the pamphlet,” he walked to the nearest door and was gone.

  “You offer, um,” Obidaan was looking for a polite way of saying it, the manager, though, had no such moral qualms.

  “Prostitutes? Yes, we do. Would you like us to send one to your room tonight?” He reached down and pulled out a book, “here’s the list.”

  “No, no thanks.” Obidaan gave him the book back, “I’m happily married and want to remain that way.”

  “We are 100% discrete.”

  “Still, I’m married.”

  “I understand,” he looked over at the clerk. “Take him to meet his scribe. Only then can he begin to understand what goes on around here.”

  “Yes, sir,” the clerk said. She grabbed Obidaan by the hand and began to lead him to the back of the foyer, “This way please.” Her hand felt unusually warm and soft to the touch. He was put at ease by her as he looked around.

  With the desk clear, the manager turned and disappeared into what seemed to be an invisible door.

  By the time Obidaan looked back at the desk, it was empty. He knew there was no way they could have gone without him seeing where they went, unless, “Humans don’t work here do they?” Obidaan asked his clerk.

  “You’re beginning to catch on, sir,” the clerk replied as she led him through a door. This door had a long corridor and doors on opposite sides about every 30 feet. She led him to the last door on the right and opened it. In this area were 4 desks, 2 on each side with someone writing. The ceiling was 50 up, and behind each desk, all the way to the top were bookshelves, lined with books.

  “Cecelia,” the clerk called out, “Obidaan is here to meet you.”

  From the last desk on the left, a lady got up out of her chair and ran toward them. Obidaan noted the pen was still scribing, she jumped into his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist, gave him a huge hug and planted an even bigger kiss on his lips. Not letting go of him, spoke. Her voice was soft and nearly angelic, “There you are! I have been waiting forever to meet you. Do you know how much flack I take from my coworkers because I was the only scribe who had not met their paladin?”

  “I had no idea,” Obidaan said. He felt a bit awkward. He didn’t want to push her off, but at the same time, he just had no idea what to do.

  “Well, young man, you and I have a lot to discuss,” she kissed him, harder, then jumped off him. “I’ll take care of him now, dear,” and she escorted him back to her desk. The other three scribes in the office acted oblivious to what had just happened.

  “Come here, sweet cheeks, and plant it in this chair.” The pen had fallen down by the time they got there.

  “Now, I’m sure you have a lot of questions, my job, along with chronicling your life, is to answer them. Since you’re here, I don’t have to scribe,” Cecelia closed the book in front of her, opened the drawer and put it away.

  “Chronicling my life? I don’t understand?” Obidaan was very confused and felt again like the butt of a joke he didn’t know he was in.

  “Of course you don’t, baby, you’ve never been here. But just relax and I’ll put everything into perspective for you. Excuse me, but damn, you are so cute,” she reached out and kissed him again.

  “I don’t mean to offend, but could you please stop kissing me?”

  “No, to be perfectly blunt. You see, my job is to spoil you while you’re here, and to spoil myself. You don’t realize it, but for Avatars, these are choice jobs. Most would go dark to get to scribe for a paladin. And you, my naïve little love, have deprived me of five years of perks. You have a lot of making up to do!”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Which brings me to my first question, why didn’t I know?”

  “Ah, yes, I knew you’d ask that.” at that she reached her hand out and a book from the very top of her bookshelf floated down to her hands. “It all goes back to your anointment. You see, you actually weren’t supposed to be anointed yet. At least that’s the explanation I have in your book.”

  “Huh?”

  She opened to book to the first page, “Now this part predates your anointment by a day, but since it starts your story, it’s written down. A quick aside, all paladins have their life chronicled from the moment they are picked, not anointed. From that day on, anything you do, say, feel, or hear, is written down for all eternity. Also, you can read the story of any paladin, just as they can read yours. That’s how Gheriballi knew so much about you; he read some of your books. Now, not everything is written down. Some things, like what happened to you in the forest are written, but…”

  “You mean you wrote down my ordeal in the forest? Can I read it?” He was excited, “I have to know what happened.”

  “Well, here’s the kicker to that,” When I read it, I get the whole story. If anyone other than a celestial being were to read it, they would get it from your perspective, that you wandered through the woods and you know you passed.”

  “Then, can you tell me what happened?” he was still trying anything.

  “Sorry,” she said with a wry smile, “That would be cheating,” and she started laughing. He knew he was the butt of an unknown joke that time. She kissed him again in his confused state. “But anyway,” she gathered her breath, “to answer your first question, there was an unexpected death in the paladin corps, the Paladin of the Hunt, died in a hunting accident, yes I know how it sounds. Well, this left an imbalance, one that had to be filled quickly. The Seers were next on the list, so they chose you. Unfortunately, no one briefed the Seers, so they had no real guidance for you.” She leaned in close and whispered, “That’s the ‘official’ story. My guess is politics, but I can’
t prove it. You see, and this is just between you and me, they Seers weren’t supposed to have the next pick, they ‘foresaw’ their way into it. That pissed off a lot of gods. What usually happens is when a paladin is to be picked, two actually, one from each side, the next in line are called. They are given a briefing by the last ones to pick. Told about this place, the duties, what to expect, etc. Their paladin then mentors the new one. Another twist here, the Paladin of the Hunt, was the last paladin picked for good. The gods were ‘distraught.’ No paladin had ever died that quick before, just under two years, and no one bothered to look back one more pick. You got anointed and basically, everyone ‘forgot’ about it. Technically, you had three years to go; they appoint a pair every five years. Now, when Gheriballi was reading, to decide whom to take on the tribunal, he noticed me here. He asked who I was and what paladin I represented. The fact that he had never heard of you troubled him, so he read up, realized you had not been trained, and the rest is history.”

  “Um, don’t paladins die all the time, like normal people? Why would a death be unexpected? And why didn’t anyone, like you, ever remind them?” Obidaan was quite confused, but glad he had someone to answer his questions.

  “Actually, no. Paladins, because of their abilities, are much stronger and heartier than the average human. In a one—on—one fight, you will always win. You’re divine abilities allow you to take on a 10—1 situation and have a reasonable chance for victory. Now that’s not to say you can’t die, obviously, but the odds are in your favor. That is intentional. As the keepers of the peace for the planet, you need an air of invincibility about you. If people believed they could easily defeat you, the world would go back to the chaos it once was and paladins would be pointless. As for your second question, I simply didn’t know. I’m a scribe. I write things down and do as I’m told. Even if I did know, there would be no way I could tell someone. Let’s just say the chain of command is a one—way street, down. Would you really want to tell a god they’re wrong? Trust me, they believe in punishing the messenger.”

  He took in everything she was saying, and then looked up at the shelves behind her, “So, all these books represent my life story?”

  “Your life as a paladin,” Cecelia corrected him.

  “How much doe each book hold?”

  “Depends on how busy you were anything from a day to a month; on average though they hold a fortnights worth of information.”

  “So, you’re an avatar. What does that mean exactly, and how do you help me here?”

  “I thought you’d never ask, baby cakes. Now, here’s the fun part. An avatar is just another servant of the gods.”

  “Like angels?”

  “Not quite as high on the food chain. We’re gophers, messengers. That’s why the scribe position is so cool for us. It let’s us interact with humans, unlike angels, who do it all the time. Here, we get to take on a corporal form. Also, each paladin gets an Avatar of the opposite sex. Sort of like a consort.”

  “What about that prostitute list? Is that y’all?”

  “My god no! Those are other generic avatars. You see, this place is run by nothing but avatars that come and go as paladins enter and exit. We, the scribes, get to stay.”

  “So, could you and I have sex?” Obidaan was still trying to wrap his head around what he was hearing.

  “We could, or you could use the prostitutes if you like variety. See, I’m here more of a ‘trophy’ for lack of a better word. When parties happen here, when you need someone to talk to, to eat with, to just listen to, that’s what I’m here for. I can eat, and feel, and we do like the feel of human flesh. That’s why I can’t stop kissing you,” she laughed, “See, the thing is, when our paladins are here, we don’t have to write. Nothing that happens in here is ever transcribed.”

  “But you were writing when I came in.”

  “I’ve been writing constantly for five years! I finally caught up.” She opened the draw and tossed him the book she was writing in, “Read the last sentence.”

  “Obidaan and Gheriballi enter the Hall of Paladins.”

  “And that is why you owe me. You better stick around here for a few days so I can show you everything you need,” she grabbed his hands.

  “I wonder what my wife would think about all of this, about you.”

  “Honey,” she looked at him seriously for a moment, “I’m a celestial being. I may look real, feel real, and even act real, but in the end, I am an illusion. I’m just a ball of light. So stop worrying so much about what you see, and just enjoy yourself while you are here. This is the ultimate sanctuary.” She eased up and smiled again. “So what do you want to do?”

  “Take a long hot bath,” Obidaan said with a satisfying smile

  “Can I scrub your back?” she asked eagerly.

  “Sure,” he said with a resigned sigh.

  She reached out and kissed him, “Follow me and I’ll take you to your room,” she grabbed his hand and led him out.

  Cecilia led him to his room. Pulling his key, she opened the door and motioned him in, “All of this has been waiting for you.”

  It was a magnificent room, bigger than his house, more like an apartment. It had 2 levels. The second level was split and that’s where his bed and bathroom facilities were. Below, a huge living room, dining room, kitchen, and den. In the middle of the room was a fireplace, with a fire already burning. It was a suite fit for a king but more. On a table as he walked in was an excellent beer, some peanuts, a fruit basket and appetizers laid out. He went to the kitchen and the cupboards were filled with his favorite foods. There was also an icebox that held beer, cheeses, and other items requiring refrigeration. Obidaan was quite impressed.

  “And everyone gets a room like this?” he was pointing at it.

  “Yes. It is one of the many perks for being a paladin. Here’s another one. Take off your clothes.”

  By this time, Obidaan began to understand some things so rather than mention anything about modesty, he disrobed, but kept his back to Cecilia. She laughed at the gesture.

  “Now, hold out your hand and say ‘robe’” she commanded.

  “Robe.” He blurted out, and on his arm a robe appeared. He put in on.

  “Look down,” she said.

  He looked down and noticed his clothes were missing. “Where did they go?”

  “Go to your bedroom closet.”

  He walked up the steps and opened the door. There, along with suits and other clothes, was his armor and clothes he came in with, cleaned. He turned to look at his bed, it was a huge king sized bed, already turned down. He thought about the beer sitting downstairs, “Wish I had that beer now,” he said to himself out loud. The container holding the beer then reappeared right next to him. His eyes went wide for a moment. He picked up the beer and took a swig. It had to be the best he ever had. He let himself go for a moment and chugged it down. “Wow, that was great.” He was looking in the air at no one in particular, “Can I get another one of those?” His mug refilled. He drank as he went into the bathroom.

  It too was large and immaculate. In the center, was a large bathtub that you walked down to. He dropped the robe and stuck his toe in the water; it was perfect. He walked in and relaxed. The water swirled around him like a Jacuzzi. He sat in the water for 20 minutes before grabbing some soap and bathing. When he did that, he felt someone scrubbing his back.

  “Cecilia?”

  “You said I could, remember.”

  “Yes, yes I did,” he smiled a bit, drank his beer, which was still just as cold as when he got it, and began another barrage of questions.

  “So, anything I ask for, I can get?”

  “Only in your room. But, you will notice that the supplies do come from the panty and cupboards, which replenish as needed. She was slowly rubbing his back. Seemed she got more out of it that he did.

  Obidaan could feel her ru
bbing up against him more than before, he wasn’t as uncomfortable with it as he was before, but he was still concerned. “What is the deal with the touching?” he asked while scrubbing the bottom of his feet.

  “Ah, human flesh, the spirit’s home,” she began. “You are a spiritual being, similar to me, trapped inside a shell, your body.”

  “You’re talking about my soul.”

  “Yes. Your soul, spirit, whatever you want to call it, that which makes you, you. Well, your soul is essentially just a ball of light. But flesh,” she rubbed up against his back, “it’s real. It’s the manifestation of the soul on the material plane. Flesh is sentient, alive, vibrant, intelligent, and it house the most beautiful thing in the universe, a soul. All souls are beautiful don’t you know, regardless of the person. That fusion of material and spirit draw us to it like a moth to a flame. We are warmed, and renewed, and become secure in our purpose.”

  “So basically, you’re saying you’d be attracted to any old bag of flesh,” he laughed at his comment.

  Cecelia splashed him with water. “Silly. It’s similar to attraction between people. You have a naïveté about you that makes you quite attractive, like a baby.”

  “Gee, thanks, I think.”

  “Also, your soul weapons acts like an enhancer making you powerful, so you burn like a beautiful bonfire, warming all around you. Better?”

  “Much. So, my soul weapon enhances my soul?”

  “Most definitely,” she wrapped her arms around him and continued to hug him.

  “How can you know if you’ve never met me before now?”

  “I’ve stood next to lots of paladins; you all burn at about the same level, give or take. Even the evil ones shine brightly. Only their light repels me while being highly infectious to their avatars. There’s only one exception to that rule.”

  “Let me guess, Lucinda. She seems to be an exception to every rule.”

  “Yes. Her flame burns evil but attracts everyone. She has a zest for life like no one we’ve ever met. Anyway, that group tends to enslave themselves to their paladins, and like it. Us, we’re more companions. Still, it’s impossible to resist any order you gave me.”