"Of course, child," Olynna said firmly, speaking past you to the gallery of standing helots. "On page after page, we learn of our duty to show compassion to every human. And there is nothing in Codex or Canon which supports the exclusion of the helotry from humanity. Their vocation is a distinct and a difficult one…but one which calls for greater compassion, not lesser."
Lord Keriatou was staring directly at you now, face knitted into an imperious scowl. "Sweet Angels, will no one control this child?" he barked.
Your father, wilting under his cousin's glare, snatched you away from Olynna and out onto the street. "Xthonos' Eyes, child, what are you thinking?" His voice grew shriller with every word.
"I just wanted to understand," you protested.
"You don't need to understand! Damn it all, what does it matter?" When you arrived home, he hurled you to the floor and slammed the massive door behind you. "We just lost your mother. I won't l…won't let you get us killed by your foolishness!"
Three weeks later, in a willow grove near the river, Ecclesiast Olynna gave her last lesson to you and the other noble children of Rim Square. Under your kyrtle, the last ghostly bruises from your father's thrashing were finally beginning to fade. The priest had regained her usual good cheer after her clash with kurios Keriatou; but that day her smile as she catechized you only made you feel worse.
"What is our highest duty and calling?"
"Compassion," chorused twenty voices around the clearing.
Olynna nodded warmly. "By this, we serve both our fellows and the Angels."
The question burst from you, incongruous even in your own ears: "What about Xthonos?"
"Almighty-Xthonos-is-the-Source-of-All." A four-year-old restarted her catechism in confusion, then glanced at the other children and burst into tears.
"You know it so well, Calyse!" Olynna deftly calmed the youngster, then turned thoughtful eyes on you. "But I don't think that was the intent of the question."
"It doesn't matter to Xthonos, does it, hiera?" Other than your cheeks growing hot, you managed to ignore the gasps and laughter around you. "It knows no compassion. It doesn't care about what we do."
"The Angels do," Olynna said gently, hushing the other children with a gesture. "The blessed emanations of Xthonos. And we are under Their care."
"But…" You searched for the right words. "Everything emanates from Xthonos. It doesn't know the Angels, any more than It knows us. It's perfect. And It doesn't have compassion. So why should compassion matter so much for the Angels, or for us?"
One of the things you loved most about the Ecclesiast was the way she always took your questions with full seriousness. She paused now, forehead creased as she contemplated the sun-dappled river beyond the shelter of the willow.
1) Despite my inner turmoil, I waited silently for her to speak.
2) Aware of all the dubious eyes on me, I blurted, "I don't…I'm not a heretic."
3) I muttered rebelliously, "And why do we think the Angels are so compassionate, anyway?"
You are an aristocrat of the Shayard Rim.
Traits
Charisma: Not yet defined.
Combat: Not yet defined.
Intellect: Not yet defined.
Ruthless: 49% Compassionate: 51%
Skeptical: 50% Devout: 50%
Homelander: 50% Cosmopolitan: 50%
Anarchy: 0