Center of the Universe

by N E Riggs

  The young man with the spear finally finished demonstrating his skills. He took a deep breath and turned to the old man expectantly. He was barely breathing hard.

  The old man considered for a time then nodded his head. The man with the spear grinned broadly, making a fist in triumph. They spoke briefly, but David was too far away to hear what they said.

  “Don’t worry,” Brigid said softly from where she stood at his elbow. “You’re just as good as he is.”

  David managed a sickly smile but didn’t say anything. He didn’t think he could speak, not even to call Brigid on her obvious bullshit.

  The man with the lance bowed to the elderly Sword Priest, his hands pressed to his chest with his thumb and pinky tucked away, and walked towards David and Brigid. He barely glanced at them, walking right past. David supposed that was for the best. He wasn’t capable of conversation at the moment.

  A minute or so later, the Sword Priest walked over as well. He seemed even more intimidating close up. He consulted a com pad in his hand. “David Kemp?” he asked. David managed a shaky nod. “I am Vicar Chirn Hifen. I am in charge of your test. Come this way.”

  Brigid flashed him one last confident smile. David followed Chirn slowly.

  “You’re a traveler?” Chirn asked, glancing over his shoulder. David jerked his gaze back to the old man. He nodded, still unable to speak. “We don’t get many travelers wanting to become priests. I think we should. Might make ’em care more about Bantong,” he said, seeming to himself. “Well, anyway. Your Lost Priest said you’d have to use your normal weapon and that you’d need mechanical targets.” David nodded again. He noticed that Chirn’s mouth almost matched his words. Brigid had said that would happen with his translator over the last few days, but it was still a shock to see. “We’ve got a room set up for you through here.”

  He led David into a side room. It looked much like the room in which David had spent the last ten days practicing. He could even see the targets suspended from the ceiling on wires. He began to relax. Chirn left him in the room, heading to the control box.

  David moved into the center of the room. He wiped his hands once more against his thighs, then unclipped Bramira from where it hung on his belt. The metal was cool and soothing in his grip, and the weapon glowed at his touch. He took a slow, deep breath. He’d been doing this for ten days now and he knew he could do it. He’d be fine.

  “Ready?” Chirn’s voice came over the loud speaker. David nodded. “Begin!”

  The targets began to move. The three closest to him swooped down on him, faster than the ones David had practiced with. He moved to the side and threw Bramira. It curled and angled, cutting through all three targets before returning to his hand. He moved, running around the room, Bramira never staying in his hand for long.

  Bramira always went where he wanted it to go. It was as if it could read his mind, as if his will influenced its trajectory. He didn’t know if that was really how it worked or if it only seemed that way. He didn’t care. It was wonderfully easy to use, once he’d gotten used to it. Far harder had been learning to move around, to keep as many targets in sight at any one point, to find the best place to throw Bramira.

  After days of practice, he had learned, and he’d even become good at it. This was like any other practice session he had over the past few days. He forgot about this being a test, he forgot about Chirn watching from above, he forgot about this being essential to his future. There was him, Bramira, and the targets, nothing else. In a matter of minutes, he destroyed all the targets in the room and stood near the center, panting lightly.

  Chirn came out of the control room. His face was blank, betraying no indication of whether he’d been impressed by David. “Your weapon,” he said slowly. “It looks like Bramira.”

  “It is,” David said. He’d gone looking through The Traveler’s Guide to Bantong to see if it had any information about Bramira. It had mentioned it as a legendary weapon, but no more.

  “It can’t be. Bramira is on Mu,” Chirn muttered to himself, scratching his thin beard. David frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but the Sword Priest cut him off. “Thank you for the demonstration. You may wait outside. I will make my decision shortly.”

  “Thank you,” David said quickly, then let himself out of the room. He made his way back to Brigid and sat down on a bench along the wall.

  “How did it go?” she asked, dancing from one foot to the other. Her speech was almost synced with her mouth too. It must have gradually gotten better, because David hadn’t noticed until now.

  “I thought it went well,” David said. A woman stood not too far from the bench, biting her lip and looking horribly nervous. She had wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes. She must be the next hopeful. “The Sword Priest recognized Bramira, but he said it was supposed to be somewhere called Mu.”

  Brigid frowned. “Well, clearly it isn’t on Mu,” she said, but she didn’t sound very sure of herself.

  David slouched, crossing his arms over his chest. He hadn’t seen Chirn leave the side room. He wondered what was taking so long. Chirn had seemed to decide instantly about the man with the lance.

  Staring down at his hands, he started to fidget in his chair. He wondered if he really needed to stick around to hear the result, considering he’d obviously not made the cut. He wasn’t going to be a soldier or a hero. He’d failed this, as he failed everything else in his life.

  Finally, he saw Chirn approach. He tensed and sat up straight. He shouldn’t look too disappointed when he heard the news, he told himself. He could take failure with dignity – he was used to failing, after all.

  When Chirn reached the bench, he stared down at David for a long moment, silent. David couldn’t read his expression. At last he said, “Congratulations. You may become an acolyte.”

  David sat on his bench in shocked silence as Brigid let out a gleeful cheer. “You want me?” he finally managed.

  Chirn continued to look stern. “You are... interesting. You may not be as skilled as most of the other acolytes, but you show a great deal of potential. And there is your weapon to consider. So, you may go through the training.”

  “Thank you,” David said, his voice shaking. He thought he should probably go to Chirn and shake his hand or maybe bow like the man with the lance had, but his legs felt suddenly weak. He wasn’t sure if he could even stand up.

  “There is more to being a Sword Priest than strength,” Chirn said coolly. “Even as an acolyte, there are vows you must take. Sword Priests receive their gift immediately. Be sure to consult with your Lost Priest,” he glanced at Brigid, “so that she might explain them to you. You need to report back here tomorrow morning at nine to begin training. We will settle you in the barracks at that time.”

  He turned to the next hopeful, the blonde woman, and motioned for her to follow him out into the gymnasium. The woman glanced briefly at David following Chirn, her chin held high.

  “I made it,” David breathed. It was finally starting to sink in.

  “You did.” Brigid smiled broadly.

  David leapt to his feet, pumping his fists in the air. “I made it!” he cried. He grabbed Brigid and whirled her through the air. “I fucking made it!”

  Brigid laughed as David twirled her around. At that moment, he thought Brigid was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She’d done so much for him. She’d settled him in, seen that he had all the necessities, found him a job he’d love, and had even helped him practice. Surely, she was the greatest woman in the world. He thought she might even like him in return.

  He lowered Brigid to the ground and leaned towards her, planning to kiss her. She smiled back at him, tilting her face up, waiting expectantly. Just before he kissed her, he froze.

  “Whatever you do, do not fall in love.” Cethon’s final words burned through his mind. He stood there, a breath away from Brigid, unable to move. Cethon had saved his life at the cost of her own. She’d known who he was, even though they’d never met. S
he’d been the Sword Cardinal, leader of the sect he was about to join.

  Slowly, he pulled away from Brigid, not looking at her. “David?” Brigid asked softly. He thought her voice sounded hurt. But he didn’t look at her. He couldn’t bear to see her face.

  “We should go back,” he said. “You need to tell me about those vows.”

  There was a long silence. “Of course,” Brigid finally said. She led him out of the gymnasium, not once looking behind her to see if he was following. David trailed her silently, trying not to feel like a jerk.

  6

  The Vow

  “How much do you know about Aeons?” Brigid asked when they got back to Kumarkan. She didn’t look at him as she walked to the elevator.

  “Um, a little,” David said. “He was mentioned a few times in The Guide. He’s the main god in the religion on Bantong or something, right?” That was the impression he got. The Guide went on and on about Aeons but never really said much about him specifically. It was like The Guide expected readers to already know about Aeons.

  The elevator deposited them in a room David hadn’t seen before. A library of some sort, he thought, surveying the shelves of books. It had to be the biggest library he’d ever been in; the entire, massive room was filled with shelves. Brigid took a book off the closest shelf without first checking the name on the spine. Looking closer, David saw that every book on the shelf was identical. She handed it to him, saying coolly, “We do not believe that Aeons is a deity. We know he is. He has watched over not just Bantong but every other world since the beginning of time. And he will continue to do so until the end of time. This,” she gestured at the book she’d given him, “is the Condensed Tome of Ages. It chronicles the most important pieces of history and will tell you a little about Aeons himself.”

  David stared at the thick, hardbound book. It had to be at least six hundred pages. He flipped it open and saw the font was tiny. “This is condensed?”

  Brigid pointed to the shelves that covered one entire wall of the room. “We have a complete version there.”

  David gaped at the wall in horror. He stepped closer and read the spines. He found one which was labeled The Tome of Ages, The Book of Eumol, Chapter 15 Part 2. The other books on the wall were similarly labeled, although with different book names. “This can’t be one book,” he said. “It makes the encyclopedia look short!”

  “The Tome of Ages is the history of time, starting nearly six thousand years ago when the Eternist priesthood was founded. Each book is named after the high priest or priestess at the time. Every day, their scribes, who are usually Beloved Priests, write what events took place. Each year of that high priest’s reign is a separate chapter. Some days have much more detail, of course, but there’s something for every day.”

  He stared up and down the wall. He couldn’t see the far ends. He could barely comprehend six thousand years of written history, with something for every day. Most of the books he could see didn’t even cover a full year. He wondered how many books there were.

  “Please tell me I’m not expected to read the whole thing.”

  “Most priests strive to read the full tome,” Brigid said. “I’ve read less than a tenth of it. Of course, there are experts on individual portions. And it isn’t complete either.” She led him down the wall until they finally reached the end – it was a long walk. “Anan is the current high priestess,” she said, pointing towards the last few books. “Her reign is currently in its fifth year.”

  David turned back to the book in his hand. “So this sums up the important parts?” Brigid nodded. He shook his head in awe. “I’m amazed your religion’s lasted this long. Most of the religions on Earth haven’t. And that you’re still keeping track of things!”

  “Eternism is not a religion,” Brigid said, scowling. “It is not a matter of belief. It is fact. Aeons is real. I’ve seen him.”

  “Does he live on Bantong?” David asked, trying not to sound too doubtful.

  Brigid led him away from the wall and back towards the elevator. Not far from the elevator hung a picture. It was a picture David had seen many times before in various places all over Bantong, but he’d not paid much attention to it before now. The picture showed a man wearing a loose, white, Asian-style robe. He was thin and pretty, his dark features also Asian.

  “Aeons left Bantong almost four years ago,” Brigid said sadly, staring at the man in the picture. “Thus began the time of desolation. He has since returned, briefly, but he no longer lives with us. He cannot—” she cut off, shaking her head. “He is real, though, I promise you. He is terrible and wonderful. As a priest, you must dedicate yourself to him. In return, you will receive certain gifts.”

  “What sort of gifts?” David asked. The man in the picture looked sad to him.

  “As a Sword Priest, you will receive the gift of strength. Over the months of training, you will reach your peak level of physical condition, and you will be kept at that level. Your strength, speed, stamina, and toughness will not ebb with age.”

  David whistled softly. He recalled Chirn and how fit he’d still seemed, despite his age. “You’re a Lost Priest. What gift did you receive?”

  “None. The six sects work differently. Sword Priests receive their gifts upon beginning their training. Sword Priests are needed more than any other set, since they tend to die, so they have to have their gift earlier. Most priests receive their gift upon becoming priests. Lost Priests work differently. Only Vicars and higher are given the gift of empathy. Centuries ago, Cardinal Votan decided giving every Lost Priest a gift wasn’t necessary. So I don’t have a gift, and won’t have one unless I reach Vicar – that’s the next level up after brother or sister, but it isn’t easy to reach.”

  At no point in her explanation did Brigid sound resentful. David shook his head in amazement. If he was part of a group that had a supernatural gift that he’d been denied because of his rank, he’d be annoyed. Her calm reminded him of how wonderful a person she was – and how rotten he was, for turning her down. “What about the other sects of priests? The Law and the Heart and, um, I forget the others.” He’d read about them in The Guide but still had trouble keeping them straight. It had talked about ranks too, but all he could remember about was that Brigid, as a sister, was the lowest rank and that Cardinal was the highest rank. He hadn’t recalled that Vicar was just above brother and sister.

  “Law Priests uphold justice. Their gift is post-sight: they can take a person’s mind and clearly see into the past, that they might know whether or not a person has truly committed a crime. Like Lost Priests, only Vicars and higher receive that gift. Heart Priests are healers. If you become a Sword Priest, your unit will have a Heart Priest assigned to it. Injuries on the battlefield are very common, unfortunately. Passion Priests have the gift of fore-sight, seeing into the future. These days, they mostly see visions of where gateways will appear, but sometimes they have other visions as well. And Beloved Priests...” she winced. “There are so few Beloved Priests left. It really doesn’t matter.”

  “I see,” David said. He thought he might have read some of that in The Guide, but he’d forgotten. He supposed he should check when he got back to his room. “And what is the vow I’ll have to take?”

  “There are two sets of vows actually. The second are the priestly vows, taken when you become a full priest. To become an acolyte and receive your gift, the vow is this: ‘My soul I dedicate to Aeons and his laws. My life I dedicate to protecting the weak. My heart I dedicate to upholding justice. May I be struck down forever if I fail.’”

  He shivered at that. Even if he didn’t believe in Aeons – or even Bantong, some days – that still sounded like an awfully serious vow. “What if you make a mistake?”

  “Lay people may be forgiven for slipping, but priests belong to Aeons. We are held to a higher standard. Don’t worry, during your training, they’ll make sure you know everything you need to know. And we know too that you can’t save everyone, much as we may try.”r />
  “Okay,” David said. “I guess I can make that vow. I mean, I won’t be in Bantong for very long, so it doesn’t really matter anyway.”

  Brigid whirled on him, mouth and eyebrows twisted sharply down. “How dare you?” she demanded. Then, remembering they were in a library, she lowered her voice, though it was no less fierce. “The vows of a priest are a serious thing. They last a lifetime. You would just throw them aside when a gateway back to your home world appears?”

  David scowled back. “You know I have no intention of spending my entire life here! Of course, I’m going home as soon as I can!”

  “I thought you’d changed your mind! I thought you knew about Aeons, even if you called him God instead! If you don’t intend to keep your vows, you have no business becoming a priest!” Brigid turned sharply towards the elevator. She entered one and didn’t wait for David to join her. David glared at her as the doors closed.

  Once she was gone, he slumped over. “What kind of idiot am I?” he whispered. Brigid was the only person he knew on Bantong, the one person who’d helped him, who’d believed in him, who’d even liked him. Bad enough he’d acted romantically towards her only to back away at the last minute. Now he’d gone and insulted her religion too.

  He looked back at the picture of Aeons. “It’s not that I won’t mean it,” he said softly to the picture. “Not really. It’s just, I want to go home. While I’m here, I’ll keep my vow. And maybe when I’m back home I can continue to do the same there. So it’s okay.”

  The man in the picture just continued to look sad. David sighed and slowly made his way to the elevator. He’d spent enough time in Kumarkan that he knew which floor his room was on. When he reached his room, he flopped down on the bed with a loud groan. This should have been a great day: for the first time in years, he had a future he could look forward to and a mighty accomplishment of which to be proud. Instead he could only feel miserable.