Fate Ch 2 Winter

The protagonist, accompanied by the Oracle, visits a cherry tree in the church's garden. They discuss the origins of the tree and its significance. The Oracle reveals her ability to see people's futures through visions and dreams. She also reveals that she has been branded a heretic and shares her past experiences with the protagonist. The Oracle gives the protagonist a note from the heretic, instructing them to meet in the library. They go to the library, where they find the heretic copying books and interacting with a cat. The heretic takes the protagonist to meet Brother Little and explains his name. The Edge of the World Art Radio is proud to present Fate, written by Paris Danielle Leigh, performed by Paris and Helen Leigh, with special thanks to our cat, Fatty, who is an inspiration even when she is sleeping. Fate, Chapter 2, Winter The words of the faithful are the words of God. The words of the sinner are a poison in his mind. Would be better for the sinner to cleave his head from his body and end his life before he poisons his soul and is cast into hell. Damnations, Chapter 8, Verses 10-12 The cherry tree was not native to the Holy City. It had been a gift, brought back by Naraic, the sixth hero of Fate. It stood at the center of the church's north garden. None of the other flowers or trees were allowed to grow within ten feet of it, so it was left standing alone, as if its beauty was intimidating, even to the flowers themselves. I could feel the sword of Fate tapping at my side as I made my way through the church's garden. When I came to the cherry tree, I could see the oracle standing in its shadow. I bowed to her, lowering myself to my knees and looking down at the grass. I would not look up, I would not speak, I would not dare until she spoke first and gave me permission to rise. Winter, thank you for coming so quickly. Please rise, she ordered. So I rose. Do you like this tree? she asked. It's lovely, I answered. When it was just a sapling, it was taken from the nursery that grew the flowers and trees that adorned the Demon Lord's garden. Do you think that's odd? No, why would that be odd? I was born in the Holy City, and I have never left it. I don't know firsthand what the lands beyond the sea are like, but I know what the church says. They say beyond the sea is a violent land full of demons who only know how to kill and devour, and the Dark Castle is a hellish black maze full of wild monsters and deathtraps. I've heard. I like this tree, I think it's beautiful. When I sit under it, I wonder, why did Narek bring this tree of all things back from the Dark Castle? What a strange trophy. What do you think he was trying to say? Why did the Demon Lord grow cherry trees? I don't know. What do you think? I can't tell you, she said calmly, and I wondered why she couldn't tell me such a simple thing. Would you like me to bring you back a gift from the Demon Lord's castle? Do you think you'll return? You're the Oracle, you tell me. I can't tell you, she said again, in the same tone of voice that she used when she was talking about the tree. She sat down in the shade of the tree, skirts spilling around her legs. She patted the space next to her with her hand and said, sit here next to me. I want to show you something. I sat carefully, moving the sword of fate so that I didn't sit on it. She turned to me and held up her hand. On her palm was a tattoo of the Holy Circle, the symbol of the mortar. I'm showing you this, so you will recognize it when you see it again. I know what the Holy Circle looks like. It's not the symbol I want you to see. It's the tattoo. This is what's left behind when a sacred vow is placed on you. A sacred vow? It's a promise made before God, sealed with magic. It cannot be broken, she explained, and then fell back into the grass, looking up at the tree. I have dreams. I've had them since I was very small. Most of them I don't understand. They are about people and places I don't know and have never seen. Then one day, I began having visions. When I meet someone, sometimes I have a vision, and that vision links them to a dream or series of dreams. I realized I've been seeing their future. Instantly, I know who they are and who they will be. For all of that knowledge, I was not prepared. I was just a kid. I saw all the things that people did when they thought no one was looking, when they thought even God could not see them. I saw them. One day, horrified by what I had seen, I yelled out at a priest who had, let's say, a habit of acting inappropriately. He called me a liar and had me arrested. I was branded a heretic and sentenced to be executed. You're a heretic? I asked. She held up her hand once again, showing me the tattoo, and said, I can't tell you. She lowered her hand and continued to talk. Before I could be executed, what I had said was proven true. The priest I had spoken out against was put in my cell, and I was taken to the Holy Father, the head of the church at the time. What did you say? What did he do? I asked, and she held up her hand. I can't tell you. She put her hand down and sat up to look at me. I was taken to the Holy Father. He placed on me the sacred vow. He made me promise never to speak out against the church, its teachings, or its clergy. Why? I asked, and she held up her hand and said, I can't tell you. So every time you say, I can't tell you, what you mean is you are under a compulsion not to answer me? I can't tell you. What do you want me to do? Ask questions. Questions you can't answer? Questions I may not be able to answer. Will I kill the demon lord? I can't tell you. Will I return to the holy city? I can't tell you. How could the answers to those questions contradict the church? I can't tell you. Of course you can't. But what can you answer? She shrugged her shoulders. Why are you sending me with the heretic? There are two million people in this city. They have come from all over the world. The heretic, as you call her, is the only one of those two million people who has set foot in the demon lord's throne room. How? When? Who is she? I can't tell you. Can I trust her? I can't tell you. How could that possibly... Never mind. Why did you save her from the executioner's block? The holy scriptures say that it would be better for a sinner to cleave their head from their body, thus saving their soul, if not their life. For this reason, before being led to the block, the condemned are given a gold coin to give to the executioner. The teachings say that by giving the coin, they are paying for their own execution, thus taking their own life and saving their soul. The oracle began to laugh. When Skye went up to the block, instead of giving the coin to the executioner, she threw it into the crowd. I had to meet her. I had to know who would be so defiant, even in their last moment. I stopped the execution so I could read her future. I'm going to guess you can't tell me what you found out. I can't. So what now? I want you to ask questions, she said, and handed me a folded piece of paper. What is this? I asked. It's from Skye. For you. You want me to ask her the questions you can't answer. I can't tell you. What does it say? Can't you read it? Quickly, and just once, I shook my head no. The oracle opened the note and read it for me. It says, meet me in the library, and it signed the heretic. She calls herself the heretic? I think for her that's a joke. It takes a while to get used to her sense of humor. When I return from the land beyond the sea, what gift would you like me to bring you? I asked her. Ask the demon lord why he keeps cherry trees. Is that all you want? If I knew the answer to that question, then maybe I can stop obsessing over this tree. I looked up at the books and scrolls stacked on shelves towering above me. There were ladders and balconies laid out everywhere. Monks moved like mountain climbers among the shelves, pulling books, putting books away. Everyone worked in a silence so deep my footsteps seemed like hoofbeats, even as I tried to walk softly. I found the heretic at work tables near the back. She had two books set before her. On her right, there were paints, inks, brushes. She worked quietly, copying one book into another. I watched her, a fat calico cat, jumped up onto a stepstool, then onto a chair, climbed up the arms, and onto the table. The cat looked old. Its fur was thin and it moved slowly. It reached out a paw and lightly touched the heretic's arm. I know you're hungry, but you're going to have to wait. I'm expecting a visitor. She explained to the cat. The cat touched her arm again. I'm sorry, she's not here yet. Lunches can be a little late. She tried again to explain. I don't think the cat understands you. I said softly, not to disturb the library. The heretic turned to see me, then turned back to the cat. All right, she's here. Now I can get you food. She got up from her chair, and then lifted the cat and set her on the ground. The cat began to purr and twist around the heretic's legs. Hero, thank you for coming. Will you follow me? She walked slowly through the library. She wore the same black dress she had on before, the same dress all the nuns wore. She had on a new scholar's cap. It had to be new, because I still had the one I stabbed with the sword. Her hair was in a braid that twisted around into a bun, with a couple of paintbrushes pinning it to her head. She was pretty, in the way only a young nun could be, trying so hard to be invisible and unassuming that she did the exact opposite and glowed like a lighthouse. Then I saw a flash of red as we walked. On her feet, only visible every fifth step or so, she wore bright red silk slippers with gold embroidery. Not the shoes any nun should wear. And every time I saw them, I felt the statement of defiance I'm sure they were, the type of defiance I expected from the heretic. Brother Little. She stopped one of the monks. I must attend to other business. Can you take over for me with the scriptures? She asked. Of course, Sister Skye. The monk bowed to her and then walked back the way we'd come. This way, she said, and kept walking through the library, with the cat leading us forward. His name is Little, but he's so tall. Yes. His name is A Little Down the Road. Why? Do you think that's strange? He's an orphan raised in the church. Most of the monks and nuns are. When they turn twelve, they reach the age of obligation. They can become a monk or a nun, if there's room. Otherwise, they're put out into the street. We. I corrected. We? She asked. When we reach the age of obligation, we can work for the church or choose a different path. I explained. Are you an orphan? Aren't we both? Isn't that how you got the name Under a Morning Sky? That's right. You know who I am. Everyone knows who you are. You're quite infamous. There are places in the city where you can place bets on how long until the church puts you back up on the chopping block. What are the odds? Maybe we could make a little money. She suggested. I could make a little money, but you'd be dead. Yes, I suppose so. I'll have to think about that. So were you raised in the church? What would make you think that? The monks, nuns, and priests tend to name lost children after where they were found. Like your name, Under a Morning Sky, or the monk's name, A Little Down the Road. Brought in from the rain? Who is that? I asked. Just a story I read once. Tell me, hero. What is your name? Winter Fire. They found you in a fire? My name is Beside a Winter Fire. Oh. I see. What do you see? Who found you? I am told the Holy Mother found me. The Oracle? That's what they tell me. Interesting. She turned and kept walking. Why? What does that mean? Why is that interesting? The names. There's a pattern. A common theme. And yours breaks it. Did you never question why? No. I don't understand. What are you talking about? Tell me. What did you choose to do on your twelfth birthday? After your Day of Obligation? I became a squire for one of the Holy Knights. But you're a girl. Do they often call you a girl? No. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. 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I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. Goodbye for now.