((Long, rambling post ahead.....mostly for my own amusement...
))
-------------------------Death brought Zak to the stone tower she'd become familiar with from her last visit. It didn't exist physically, of course, but it was a helpful frame of reference for her.
Zak felt like a child, called before her father for something really silly, like climbing the temple roof again. She halted nervously in the doorway, until Death had to prod her inside. "Go on, you're not my only appointment today, you know..."
"Thanks," Zak whispered.
"See you again soon," Death said, patting her shoulder reassuringly.
"I hope not TOO soon," Zak said, though she smiled. It was a comfort to know that Death was not something- or rather, someone- to fear.
"To quote one of my favorite lions, 'I call all times soon...'" Death said with a wink, and vanished.
He was seated in the wooden bench facing the window, grey-haired and stern-looking, clad in a white garment with gold and silver embroidery. He looked like an elder man, his apparent age somewhere in the forties or fifties, but his eyes were ancient, and saw everything. They watched from the tower's sole window, from which everything was visible to those who knew how to see. Everything.
Zak quailed when those eyes were turned on her, and dropped her gaze to her feet.
"Oh, relax, child," He said, not unkindly, motioning her over. "Come here, and have a seat, and we'll talk."
Zak sat beside him obediently, stealing a guilty glance at him from under her lashes. It was painful to look at him directly. She toyed with the ghosly amulet round her neck, before remembering what it was and kicking herself mentally.
Validor, God of Truth and Knowledge, chuckled. "And you're darn right you won't be wearing that when you get back, you know. But I can see you knew that, and meant to be rid of it when you could do so safely, so consider it done." And just like that, it vanished.
((The men carrying Zakiyah's body notice a brief flash, as the amulet around her neck disappears without warning.))
"I-"
"You intervened," He said. "You don't have to explain yourself." He shook his head at her lovingly, as if she were a naughty, but amusing child. "How many times do I have to tell you....? You have an amazingly quick mind for divining the truth of others' motives, but your own heart always remains a mystery to you."
"I'm sorry," she said sheepishly. "But...I know you don't stand for right and wrong, but...it wasn't RIGHT. I was going to tell them--"
"The truth," He replied. When she looked up at Him, startled, she found Him smiling again. "You have two duties, my dear. One is to observe and record the truth, the other is to make it known when you deem it necessary, or when someone requires it. I have no quarrel with your actions today prior to the point when you stopped the prayer and got yourself skewered, but, then, nobody's perfect."
"Except you," she said humbly.
"Flatterer. But then, that's what clerics are for. So why did you do that...?" His tone suggested he already knew the answer, but as he'd said, her own heart was a mystery to her.
"I....I don't know." she said, unsure why she'd reacted that way. "I just...reacted. They would have killed him..."
He sat back, looking dissatisfied with that answer. "Zakiyah, are you discontent?"
The question took her by surprise, but the geas- His geas- compelled her to answer. "I was not....but now I find myself chafing at the responsibility again...but it honestly wasn't suicide that compelled me, My Father."
"I know that. But why do you think this is?"
"Because I care for these people," she replied. "I...did not agree with Dungeonmaster's choice to bring them all here. I do not like what they have been unwillingly thrust into. I do not think that it is...fair."
"Is it your task to judge what is fair and right?"
"No..."
"What is Truth?"
"The truth is neither right, nor wrong, nor fair, nor just," Zakiyah recited automatically. "The truth, is."
"What is the First Directive?"
"Do not interfere."
"And the Second?"
"Give knowledge freely, to any who seek it."
"And the Third?"
"Act, unbiased by emotion, connection, and attachment."
"There you are," he said, reclining again as if this explained everything. Dispite what people think of gods of neutrality, he was not without compassion and a sense of humor.
Zak pondered this for a moment, uncertain at what he was getting at. She knew she'd disobeyed each of those lately, but...."You're not angry with me?"
"Child, you're mortal. I certainly can't stop you caring for people. I merely wondered why you haven't before. You've certainly lasted longer in my order than any other cleric I've had, and not because of your pennance. Had I disliked your service, you know, I would not have required of you ANY pennance." He placed an hand on her shoulder, and even though she knew her body was lying lifeless far from this reality, she still tingled with warmth. "It makes your task all the harder, of course, but I couldn't tell you to deny yourself that. Neutrality does not mean detachment. The Third commands you to ACT unbiased, not BE unbiased. Which, I admit, is much more difficult."
She nodded glumly. "Yes, My Father."
"So what do we do with you...?" He asked. "You've found creative ways to get around even my geas, and you've obviously chosen a side in this struggle. There's still a host of little acts of disobedience that must be dealt with before I send you back, or neither of us will rest easy. Therefore, I am adding a few years to your pennance, and a new charge."
"How long...?" Zak asked faintly, as the current total of years still unfulfilled was staggering. Just because he was compassionate and kind did not mean that acts against His will would go unpunished.
"Another century," He said gravely. "For these were serious acts of defiance. But you can change that," He added, seeing her slump with the anticipated exhaustion of all those years. "Your charge is this: I want you to rebuild the Order. The time is nearly right for change." He patted her shoulder consolingly. "For an extra incentive- Each initiate who takes the vows will serve your time for you. Their years of service will be your years. And you know my standards for clerics, Zakiyah, so no cheating. Fair enough?"
She nodded glumly again, looking faint as she contemplated the enormity of the task.
"Rest, now," He said gently, covering her eyes with his hand. "And for My sake, CALL on me next time before you jump in front of an arrow, you foolish child! I dislike raising the dead, and I especially dislike having to mend bodies."
Souls do not sleep, but Zakiyah still held the memory of the body she'd just left, and felt as if this gesture had just freed her mind to wander while her body sunk into blissful slumber She felt absolved, and at peace, as she always did after meeting with Him. He knew her better than she knew herself, and loved her. Dispite her faults, dispite her grumbling, dispite her expressed frustration with the hand Fate had dealt her, in these moments she was perfectly content to live for Him and to die for Him, and for the Truth that he represented.
