15.2 What is the Beast?

Day 172

Amytri rides beside me for the better part of the day pestering me with (welcome) questions about elven culture and oaths in particular. We talk about the structure of our oaths, how they are sworn with a blade to the heart, neck, wrist, or another part of the body. It’s symbolic of what you’re prepared to offer and what the other person is now sworn to protect and respect.   I tell him of the different people I’m sworn to - my family, the people in my army, the Empress and all the elvish people.   He reacts the way most humans would. It sounds fanatical to him that someone would swear to plunge a knife into their own heart if commanded by the Empress (or sacrifice their life if their commander told them to do so). This is such a deep cultural understanding that elves have, that your oaths are sacred not just because of what you are offering but because of the things for which you hold responsibility. Each of my soldiers has pledged that they will spend their lives as their commanders direct. In turn their commanders hold the weight of hundreds of lives in the balance. That Amytri sees the vulnerability of the elves but not the duty of the Empress is very human of him.   And with this perspective that I don’t have...I ask him what happened to the human god of knowledge. He gives me another question in return - What is the Beast?   And then lays out his theory before me:   The Beast is ignorance, fear, and anything unknown. You can confront and overcome ignorance with either knowledge...or faith. The Master, he tells me, is the embodiment of natural law. He represents how the world works and the reality of the situation. The other human gods are easy - believe in them and they’ll offer simple solutions and protections. They won’t teach you how to face the world or confront your ignorance, just how to survive in the meantime.   It’s a dreadfully appealing theory. It is coherent and sensible and very reflective of what we’ve seen in the human churches. It provides a thoughtful reason for the Master to be working purely against the gods and churches and not simply for their reform.   But the idea that knowledge and faith are in opposition strikes me as strange. He tells me that when you continuously examine your faith and find it reinforced it becomes stronger. Human faith is unexamined and thus weak and vulnerable. It makes sense - every time I’ve reached for the Empress I’ve found the sanctuary of her shade. When I’ve called on her support, it has been there. The stories of the elvish sacrifices that she’s wielded are not fantasies - I hold the same magic in my mind. For all humans tell me that their gods are not silent, it seems that there isn’t a foundation for their faith. Would the Weaver have stood by the decision of that Brighton healer who told us it was Bran’s time to die? Would the Candlemaker and Fisherman see the Severed elves and think it just?   Amytri is giving me lots to think about prior to meeting with Drakken. I’d like to give him enough information to provide good counsel but I’m still cautious. His agenda seems to be the pure pursuit of knowledge but I’m not ready to trust that.   We arrive at his intermediary destination in the afternoon after repeatedly missing the forks in the road that lead to it. Much to Alder’s annoyance it appears that the forks only show up for those who know where they’re going.   The town itself is unlike anything I’ve seen before. Half the size of Ipth and surrounded by wind magic that powers mills like Garend’s and boats sailing across the lake even against the wind. From a nearby cliff I can just make out people leaping off of the towering rock and gliding down on sails held against their bodies.   The guards at the gate wear fine armour that looks nearly elvish in make and carry enchanted halberds of a much nicer caliber than any human guards we’ve seen so far. They greet Amytri with deference which he waves off good-naturedly.   Within the walls there are lanterns powered by gas instead of open torches, mechanical inventions that allow them to move faster than running with very little effort, and shopfronts made of clear, even glass. Amytri points out the University and library and a coveted neighbourhood where people apply to live and research on a topic of their interest. It’s a wizard’s dream, to be sure.   As he leads us to an inn he tells me that this sort of place wouldn’t be allowed to exist on the other side of the sea. Worship of the gods is not taught here and so they face the Beast with knowledge and learning instead of ignorance. The Beast can’t be eradicated, just tamed and brought to heel.   The proprietor of the inn welcomes us warmly and is eager to talk with Alder and I about elvish hospitality. Camellia is given the choice of a summer or winter fae room (there is already a spring fae in residence) and the humans are shown to suitably human rooms. She seems delighted at the prospect of learning how to prepare a proper elvish room.   This is what I imagine Deldrin could be like with fewer politics. I wonder how this place is governed.