Or pretending to be....
The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox
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Or pretending to be....
Chapter 171: Lodia's Decree
Chapter 171: Lodia's Decree
In the morning, a happy group of friends had run down to the beach and plunged into the water. Well, Steelfang and his wolves had plunged in, anyway, Stripey thought. Floridiana had needed to be dragged away from her sketchbook, and Lodia had needed a lot of encouragement before she dared so much as dip her toe in the water. It was a sadder, wetter, much more injured group who returned to Flying Fish Village.
And they hadn't all returned.
"Oh, Ssstripey! Ssshe's gone! Ssshe's gone again!"
Heedless of either of their injuries, Bobo flung herself at him and wrapped her body around him from neck to tail. She bumped his wing, and he squawked.
"Oh, sssorry! Sssorry! Are you okay?"
She unwound the top third or so of herself so she could lean back and scan him. That was when he got a good look at the long, shiny, melted lines that crisscrossed her scales.
Bobo! What happened to you?
She shrugged, which, considering that she was wrapped around him, felt more like being choked. "It's not a big deal. The jellyfisssh ssstung me, that's all."
"That's all"? he repeated incredulously. What do you mean, that's all? You look – you look –
"I sssaid I'm fine! I'm alive, aren't I? Rosssie's gooooone!"
She burst into tears. Her sobs wracked her body, which in turn jostled all of his bruises and cuts and broken bones. Working his good wing free, he patted her on a part that looked less melted.
There, there. It'll be okay. It's not the first time she's died on us. She'll find us again. She promised she would.
A sniffle. "Did ssshe? Did ssshe sssay ssshe would? Did ssshe promissse ssshe would?"
Yes. Right before – he quickly changed what he had been about to say – the end. She looked me in the eye and said, "I'll find you. No matter where or what I am, I'll find you." There, see? Nothing to worry about. Now, if you could loosen yourself a bit –
"It was my fault!" wailed a new voice. The latest human girl whom Piri had adopted, Lodia, ran up to them. One of the village elders had already splinted her arm, and she cradled the sling to steady it. "I'm so, so, so sorry! She wouldn't have died if it hadn't been for me! It was all my fault!"
At the sight of someone in greater distress, Bobo immediately let go of Stripey and slithered over to Lodia. Taking much more care than she had with him, she draped a coil over the girl's shoulders and rubbed them soothingly. "It's not your fault. Of courssse it's not your fault. How could it be your fault? It was a misssunderssstanding. They thought we were invading. They didn't give us time to explain that we jussst wanted to play in the water."
The girl hunched over as if she were trying to disappear into the sand. "It was, it was, he said it was. He said I offended a goddess, so he was here to kill me. This was all my fault!"
Stripey felt as if a tidal wave had just crashed over him. He said you offended a goddess, he repeated slowly. Each word felt unreal. A goddess.
"Yes! A goddess! I don't know how anything I do is important enough to offend anyone, let alone a goddess!"
Stripey rather thought that taking up the mantle of the Matriarch of a temple that was collecting offerings solely for one god counted as "important," but he didn't have time to argue with her right now. Listen to me, Lodia. I need to know: Which goddess?
"He didn't know, he said he didn't need to know – oh! But Pip said something! Just before – you were there too! Something about a star?"
Stripey shook his head regretfully. I was too far away to hear. Do you remember anything else about the star?
"Um, um, it was a long name. Or title. The Star of…something. She – Pip – got it wrong the first time. The Star of – of – " Lodia's face screwed up in frustration. "Reflected something. Reflected…Reflected…Light? Brilliance? No, that's not it…. I can't remember!"
"Brightness," came Floridiana's voice from behind them.
It lacked her usual crisp energy, but then she, too, had one hand pressed to a bloody bandage on her side. Den hovered over her as anxiously as if his future reincarnations depended on keeping her alive. Which, from what Piri had told Stripey, they did. But he didn't think that was the reason.
"It's the Star of Reflected Brightness," Floridiana told them. At their blank faces, she blew out an exasperated breath. "You know, the goddess that Empress Aurelia turned into after she died? The last empress of Serica, whom she had killed?"
"She…?" Lodia lifted her head at last. Tears streaked her cheeks, her eyes were puffy, and her nose was lychee-red. "Um, I know I'm not supposed to know this, and I don't understand how it could be because it doesn't make any sense, but…somehow, Pip is – was – Lady Piri, wasn't she…?"
Stripey traded glances with Floridiana and Den. Well, she was bound to figure it out at some point.
"Would have been safer if she hadn't," the mage muttered, before saying in an emphatic whisper, "Never say that out loud again. You never know who's watching or listening." In case the girl hadn't understood, she rolled her eyes Heavenward.
Lodia gulped. "But she's not like…that anymore. She's even helping the Divine Intercessor. Why would – why would they still…."
Floridiana put a gentle hand on the crown of Lodia's head. "You've seen how many factions there are in the South Serican court, haven't you? Imagine what it would be like if each of the courtiers were infinitely powerful, and immortal too."
"They're not infinitely powerful," Den murmured but didn't elaborate.
"I messed up the politics, didn't I?" Lodia asked miserably. "I never get the politics right. I messed up, and she had to come save me, and the oystragon killed her for it. It's all my fault."
Bobo rubbed her back in big, soothing circles. "It's not your fault, it's not your fault. If it's anyone's fault, it's the goddess', not yours."
Den sucked in a sharp breath. "Bobo, don't say that!"
"But it's true!" she snapped. Her eyes were over-bright. "Why should anybody have to die jussst becaussse they messsed up sssome politics or offended the wrong perssson? It's not fair! It's not right! I won't ssstand for it!"
Bobo, said Stripey, it's just the way the world works. On Earth and in Heaven.
"Well, it ssshouldn't be! It's wrong. We're re-founding the Empire, aren't we?" She glared at them until everyone nodded. "What's the point of re-founding the Empire if it's going to be as awful as it usssed to be? We have to make it better. We're going to make it better this time!"
Better? Stripey opened his beak to tell her what he, Floridiana, and Den were all thinking, which was that that was a lost cause if they'd ever heard one.
But Lodia beat him to it. "Yes," she said. The word came out quietly but firmly, with no hint of compromise. "Yes. Bobo, you're right. We have a chance to do it all over. We're going to make it better. We have to make it better. For Pip. So she didn't die in vain."
Looking at her determined expression, Stripey decided not to tell her that Piri, in whose name they were re-forging a more virtuous Empire, almost certainly preferred her politics with a dose of corruption. A hefty dose, no less.
In Heaven:
"No! I can't believe it! She survived! How did she survive?!"
A porcelain vase sailed across the office of the Director of Human Lives. It shattered against a display of little clay humans, sending translucent shards spinning everywhere. The shelf itself creaked and cracked, then collapsed, spilling the precious figurines towards the floor.
"No!" shrieked the Goddess of Life. Those were the first original humans, shaped from river clay by the hands of Lady Nu and given life by the breath of the great goddess. The Jade Emperor Himself had granted them to the Goddess of Life when she became the Director of this Bureau. "Stop!"
The figurines froze midair.
"Mend."
At her command, the pieces of wood flew back together, knitting themselves back into an ornate shelf. The figurines floated back into their positions. In slow motion, the shards of porcelain fit themselves together into a vase.
The Goddess of Life sank into her chair and massaged her temples. How could the Dragon Commander have botched the simple elimination of a single human girl? Humans were such fragile creatures. They died at the drop of a hair stick. Disease, starvation, accident, childbirth, murder, old age – the options were endless! Well, maybe not starvation, childbirth, or old age, since she'd wanted Koh Lodia removed quickly, but that still left a virulent disease, a tragic accident, or straightforward murder.
How hard could it be to murder one human girl? Even a human girl protected by one former nine-tailed fox?
Apparently, very, given that the ruler of all dragons himself couldn't get it right!
A tentative tap came on her door, probably her head clerk bearing more documents for her to skim and stamp with her official seal. She'd thought that she knew all about paperwork from essentially acting as the Director of Reincarnation on behalf of the ever-absent Kitchen God. She hadn't realized until her dreams were granted and she received her own Bureau that there was even more paperwork for an official Director to deal with. Back at the Bureau of Reincarnation, the sour-faced, humorless Superintendent, Glitter, had handled more of it than she'd realized.
Now, here, it was all her responsibility.
Schooling her voice to calm, she called, "Come in!"
As expected, her head clerk came in and prostrated himself before her desk.
"Oh, do get up," she snapped. "It's a waste of my time to go through this rigmarole every time you have a new document for me to stamp."
"Yes, Heavenly Lady." Even his voice, as colorless as the vase she'd just repaired, grated on her nerves. He rose, keeping his head bowed.
"Well? What do you have for me this time?"
Still without looking up, he proffered a scroll and a lacquered box in both hands. "The Assistant Director of Reincarnation sends his regards, my lady."
"I'm sure he does. Let us see what kind of gift the Star of Heavenly Joy sends to curry my favor." She couldn't keep the contempt out of her voice as she lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled on silk brocade, were three large peaches. Their fragrance wafted out of the box and filled her office. Her eyebrows rose slowly.
"Not bad, if these are what I think they are. Clerk! Do you think they are genuine peaches from the Queen Mother of the West's orchard?"
He shuffled from one foot to the other before he remembered himself and held still. "I must apologize, my lady. Never having seen one of the Peaches of Immortality up close, I could not say whether these are genuine or not."
Useless star sprite. Had whoever assigned clerks purposely saddled her with the most incompetent staff?
"However," he continued, "I have heard rumors that the Star of Heavenly Joy is…close to one of the Star of Reflected Brightness' handmaidens. As an employee of the Bureau of the Sky, she may have special access to the gardens…?"
Maybe not so useless after all. Even if it were an open secret that, just as he had on Earth, the former Emperor Cassius had once again gone after his former wife's handmaidens. And if he had gone to the trouble of obtaining Peaches of Immortality, then his message was worth skimming, at least. She extended the scroll to the clerk, who unknotted the silk cord so she wouldn't damage her nails.
The Assistant Director of Reincarnation sends respectful greetings to the Director of Human Lives, he had written in adequate calligraphy. I find myself troubled by a particularly complex case, which records show that you handled personally during your tenure at the Bureau of Reincarnation. If you might spare a moment of your time, I would be honored to receive any guidance you may have to offer on the role to which I have so recently been promoted, and in which you served so admirably as my predecessor.
A particularly complex case that she had handled personally, was it? Even though she had handled countless complex cases personally during her tenure, she could think of only two that would draw the former emperor's attention. One was that of the Star of Scholarly Song, his former cousin, whom she had returned to the cycle of reincarnation on orders of the Bureau of Academia and the Jade Emperor's own deputies.
The other was that of one former nine-tailed fox, to whom the Goddess of Life had personally granted the gift of retaining her memories when she reincarnated, as recompense for Cassius' own overreach. It would be an affront for him to revoke that gift without her express permission.
And just now, the sparrow reincarnation of aforementioned nine-tailed fox had helped Koh Lodia defy the death decreed for her by the Goddess of Life.
Well. Who said you couldn't kill two sparrows with one stone?
The Goddess of Life's lips curved up into a smile. "Draft a reply to the Star of Heavenly Joy," she commanded her head clerk. "Tell him that I would be happy to share the experience I gained during my tenure as Assistant Director of Reincarnation. Invite him here for tea."
A/N 1: Super excited that Confessions made it onto Summer Madness' Most Active Threads list as #27! Thanks so much everyone!
A/N 2: Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, Autocharth, BananaBobert, Celia, Charlotte, Ed, Fuzzycakes, Ike, Kimani, Lindsey, Michael, TheLunaticCo, yoghogfog, and Anonymous!
In the morning, a happy group of friends had run down to the beach and plunged into the water. Well, Steelfang and his wolves had plunged in, anyway, Stripey thought. Floridiana had needed to be dragged away from her sketchbook, and Lodia had needed a lot of encouragement before she dared so much as dip her toe in the water. It was a sadder, wetter, much more injured group who returned to Flying Fish Village.
And they hadn't all returned.
"Oh, Ssstripey! Ssshe's gone! Ssshe's gone again!"
Heedless of either of their injuries, Bobo flung herself at him and wrapped her body around him from neck to tail. She bumped his wing, and he squawked.
"Oh, sssorry! Sssorry! Are you okay?"
She unwound the top third or so of herself so she could lean back and scan him. That was when he got a good look at the long, shiny, melted lines that crisscrossed her scales.
Bobo! What happened to you?
She shrugged, which, considering that she was wrapped around him, felt more like being choked. "It's not a big deal. The jellyfisssh ssstung me, that's all."
"That's all"? he repeated incredulously. What do you mean, that's all? You look – you look –
"I sssaid I'm fine! I'm alive, aren't I? Rosssie's gooooone!"
She burst into tears. Her sobs wracked her body, which in turn jostled all of his bruises and cuts and broken bones. Working his good wing free, he patted her on a part that looked less melted.
There, there. It'll be okay. It's not the first time she's died on us. She'll find us again. She promised she would.
A sniffle. "Did ssshe? Did ssshe sssay ssshe would? Did ssshe promissse ssshe would?"
Yes. Right before – he quickly changed what he had been about to say – the end. She looked me in the eye and said, "I'll find you. No matter where or what I am, I'll find you." There, see? Nothing to worry about. Now, if you could loosen yourself a bit –
"It was my fault!" wailed a new voice. The latest human girl whom Piri had adopted, Lodia, ran up to them. One of the village elders had already splinted her arm, and she cradled the sling to steady it. "I'm so, so, so sorry! She wouldn't have died if it hadn't been for me! It was all my fault!"
At the sight of someone in greater distress, Bobo immediately let go of Stripey and slithered over to Lodia. Taking much more care than she had with him, she draped a coil over the girl's shoulders and rubbed them soothingly. "It's not your fault. Of courssse it's not your fault. How could it be your fault? It was a misssunderssstanding. They thought we were invading. They didn't give us time to explain that we jussst wanted to play in the water."
The girl hunched over as if she were trying to disappear into the sand. "It was, it was, he said it was. He said I offended a goddess, so he was here to kill me. This was all my fault!"
Stripey felt as if a tidal wave had just crashed over him. He said you offended a goddess, he repeated slowly. Each word felt unreal. A goddess.
"Yes! A goddess! I don't know how anything I do is important enough to offend anyone, let alone a goddess!"
Stripey rather thought that taking up the mantle of the Matriarch of a temple that was collecting offerings solely for one god counted as "important," but he didn't have time to argue with her right now. Listen to me, Lodia. I need to know: Which goddess?
"He didn't know, he said he didn't need to know – oh! But Pip said something! Just before – you were there too! Something about a star?"
Stripey shook his head regretfully. I was too far away to hear. Do you remember anything else about the star?
"Um, um, it was a long name. Or title. The Star of…something. She – Pip – got it wrong the first time. The Star of – of – " Lodia's face screwed up in frustration. "Reflected something. Reflected…Reflected…Light? Brilliance? No, that's not it…. I can't remember!"
"Brightness," came Floridiana's voice from behind them.
It lacked her usual crisp energy, but then she, too, had one hand pressed to a bloody bandage on her side. Den hovered over her as anxiously as if his future reincarnations depended on keeping her alive. Which, from what Piri had told Stripey, they did. But he didn't think that was the reason.
"It's the Star of Reflected Brightness," Floridiana told them. At their blank faces, she blew out an exasperated breath. "You know, the goddess that Empress Aurelia turned into after she died? The last empress of Serica, whom she had killed?"
"She…?" Lodia lifted her head at last. Tears streaked her cheeks, her eyes were puffy, and her nose was lychee-red. "Um, I know I'm not supposed to know this, and I don't understand how it could be because it doesn't make any sense, but…somehow, Pip is – was – Lady Piri, wasn't she…?"
Stripey traded glances with Floridiana and Den. Well, she was bound to figure it out at some point.
"Would have been safer if she hadn't," the mage muttered, before saying in an emphatic whisper, "Never say that out loud again. You never know who's watching or listening." In case the girl hadn't understood, she rolled her eyes Heavenward.
Lodia gulped. "But she's not like…that anymore. She's even helping the Divine Intercessor. Why would – why would they still…."
Floridiana put a gentle hand on the crown of Lodia's head. "You've seen how many factions there are in the South Serican court, haven't you? Imagine what it would be like if each of the courtiers were infinitely powerful, and immortal too."
"They're not infinitely powerful," Den murmured but didn't elaborate.
"I messed up the politics, didn't I?" Lodia asked miserably. "I never get the politics right. I messed up, and she had to come save me, and the oystragon killed her for it. It's all my fault."
Bobo rubbed her back in big, soothing circles. "It's not your fault, it's not your fault. If it's anyone's fault, it's the goddess', not yours."
Den sucked in a sharp breath. "Bobo, don't say that!"
"But it's true!" she snapped. Her eyes were over-bright. "Why should anybody have to die jussst becaussse they messsed up sssome politics or offended the wrong perssson? It's not fair! It's not right! I won't ssstand for it!"
Bobo, said Stripey, it's just the way the world works. On Earth and in Heaven.
"Well, it ssshouldn't be! It's wrong. We're re-founding the Empire, aren't we?" She glared at them until everyone nodded. "What's the point of re-founding the Empire if it's going to be as awful as it usssed to be? We have to make it better. We're going to make it better this time!"
Better? Stripey opened his beak to tell her what he, Floridiana, and Den were all thinking, which was that that was a lost cause if they'd ever heard one.
But Lodia beat him to it. "Yes," she said. The word came out quietly but firmly, with no hint of compromise. "Yes. Bobo, you're right. We have a chance to do it all over. We're going to make it better. We have to make it better. For Pip. So she didn't die in vain."
Looking at her determined expression, Stripey decided not to tell her that Piri, in whose name they were re-forging a more virtuous Empire, almost certainly preferred her politics with a dose of corruption. A hefty dose, no less.
In Heaven:
"No! I can't believe it! She survived! How did she survive?!"
A porcelain vase sailed across the office of the Director of Human Lives. It shattered against a display of little clay humans, sending translucent shards spinning everywhere. The shelf itself creaked and cracked, then collapsed, spilling the precious figurines towards the floor.
"No!" shrieked the Goddess of Life. Those were the first original humans, shaped from river clay by the hands of Lady Nu and given life by the breath of the great goddess. The Jade Emperor Himself had granted them to the Goddess of Life when she became the Director of this Bureau. "Stop!"
The figurines froze midair.
"Mend."
At her command, the pieces of wood flew back together, knitting themselves back into an ornate shelf. The figurines floated back into their positions. In slow motion, the shards of porcelain fit themselves together into a vase.
The Goddess of Life sank into her chair and massaged her temples. How could the Dragon Commander have botched the simple elimination of a single human girl? Humans were such fragile creatures. They died at the drop of a hair stick. Disease, starvation, accident, childbirth, murder, old age – the options were endless! Well, maybe not starvation, childbirth, or old age, since she'd wanted Koh Lodia removed quickly, but that still left a virulent disease, a tragic accident, or straightforward murder.
How hard could it be to murder one human girl? Even a human girl protected by one former nine-tailed fox?
Apparently, very, given that the ruler of all dragons himself couldn't get it right!
A tentative tap came on her door, probably her head clerk bearing more documents for her to skim and stamp with her official seal. She'd thought that she knew all about paperwork from essentially acting as the Director of Reincarnation on behalf of the ever-absent Kitchen God. She hadn't realized until her dreams were granted and she received her own Bureau that there was even more paperwork for an official Director to deal with. Back at the Bureau of Reincarnation, the sour-faced, humorless Superintendent, Glitter, had handled more of it than she'd realized.
Now, here, it was all her responsibility.
Schooling her voice to calm, she called, "Come in!"
As expected, her head clerk came in and prostrated himself before her desk.
"Oh, do get up," she snapped. "It's a waste of my time to go through this rigmarole every time you have a new document for me to stamp."
"Yes, Heavenly Lady." Even his voice, as colorless as the vase she'd just repaired, grated on her nerves. He rose, keeping his head bowed.
"Well? What do you have for me this time?"
Still without looking up, he proffered a scroll and a lacquered box in both hands. "The Assistant Director of Reincarnation sends his regards, my lady."
"I'm sure he does. Let us see what kind of gift the Star of Heavenly Joy sends to curry my favor." She couldn't keep the contempt out of her voice as she lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled on silk brocade, were three large peaches. Their fragrance wafted out of the box and filled her office. Her eyebrows rose slowly.
"Not bad, if these are what I think they are. Clerk! Do you think they are genuine peaches from the Queen Mother of the West's orchard?"
He shuffled from one foot to the other before he remembered himself and held still. "I must apologize, my lady. Never having seen one of the Peaches of Immortality up close, I could not say whether these are genuine or not."
Useless star sprite. Had whoever assigned clerks purposely saddled her with the most incompetent staff?
"However," he continued, "I have heard rumors that the Star of Heavenly Joy is…close to one of the Star of Reflected Brightness' handmaidens. As an employee of the Bureau of the Sky, she may have special access to the gardens…?"
Maybe not so useless after all. Even if it were an open secret that, just as he had on Earth, the former Emperor Cassius had once again gone after his former wife's handmaidens. And if he had gone to the trouble of obtaining Peaches of Immortality, then his message was worth skimming, at least. She extended the scroll to the clerk, who unknotted the silk cord so she wouldn't damage her nails.
The Assistant Director of Reincarnation sends respectful greetings to the Director of Human Lives, he had written in adequate calligraphy. I find myself troubled by a particularly complex case, which records show that you handled personally during your tenure at the Bureau of Reincarnation. If you might spare a moment of your time, I would be honored to receive any guidance you may have to offer on the role to which I have so recently been promoted, and in which you served so admirably as my predecessor.
A particularly complex case that she had handled personally, was it? Even though she had handled countless complex cases personally during her tenure, she could think of only two that would draw the former emperor's attention. One was that of the Star of Scholarly Song, his former cousin, whom she had returned to the cycle of reincarnation on orders of the Bureau of Academia and the Jade Emperor's own deputies.
The other was that of one former nine-tailed fox, to whom the Goddess of Life had personally granted the gift of retaining her memories when she reincarnated, as recompense for Cassius' own overreach. It would be an affront for him to revoke that gift without her express permission.
And just now, the sparrow reincarnation of aforementioned nine-tailed fox had helped Koh Lodia defy the death decreed for her by the Goddess of Life.
Well. Who said you couldn't kill two sparrows with one stone?
The Goddess of Life's lips curved up into a smile. "Draft a reply to the Star of Heavenly Joy," she commanded her head clerk. "Tell him that I would be happy to share the experience I gained during my tenure as Assistant Director of Reincarnation. Invite him here for tea."
A/N 1: Super excited that Confessions made it onto Summer Madness' Most Active Threads list as #27! Thanks so much everyone!
A/N 2: Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, Autocharth, BananaBobert, Celia, Charlotte, Ed, Fuzzycakes, Ike, Kimani, Lindsey, Michael, TheLunaticCo, yoghogfog, and Anonymous!
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- Location
- PA
Oooh, hrrrm.
That sounds like potentially Piri's going to be cut off from her wealth of memories…
But.
A part of me wonders.
Will she make fox, be disallowed to remember, and slapped down somewhere where she screws up by antagonizing the local humans, before getting slapped back down to earthworm? Possibly with an advisory note attached to her file so she never makes Fox again-at the correct karma level she ends up slapped into some other mammal animal instead.
That sounds like potentially Piri's going to be cut off from her wealth of memories…
But.
A part of me wonders.
Will she make fox, be disallowed to remember, and slapped down somewhere where she screws up by antagonizing the local humans, before getting slapped back down to earthworm? Possibly with an advisory note attached to her file so she never makes Fox again-at the correct karma level she ends up slapped into some other mammal animal instead.
Well, we known that she gets back to being a fox at some point in the future, she's a fox in the framing chapter of the story. Though the circumstances of that part of her journey haven't been revealed to us.
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Yep! She'll definitely become a fox again at some point, although I do need to go back and revise the prologue. She's become a better person than I envisioned when I first started writing this story.
Chapter 172: Special Permission to Revoke a Decree
Chapter 172: Special Permission to Revoke a Decree
Insultingly, the Star of Heavenly Joy arrived barely on time, which meant that he was late. Not a good look for someone begging a favor from her.
The Goddess of Life had not, of course, been waiting in the entry hall for him – way too many documents required stamping for that, plus whoever heard of a Bureau Director waiting for an Assistant Director? She had, however, been rehearsing variations of their conversation, and by the time her head clerk announced her guest's arrival, she was already sick of both it and him.
Make that "them," she decided as the star sprite prostrated himself before her desk.
"Don't grovel," she snapped. "Show him to the west balcony. Tell him I am held up by matters of critical import but will be there shortly."
While the clerk bowed himself out, she picked up the next scroll and skimmed it. One of the Commissioners of Pestilence was applying for permission to unleash a plague on North Serica.
Offerings from the north have dwindled as humans have forgotten their respect for us, he wrote. We request permission to remind them what they owe the Bureau of Human Lives and the great Lady who leads us.
About to stamp the bottom and toss it onto the "approved" heap, she paused. A plague in North Serica. A pesky soul who was even now re-coalescing in the Bureau of Reincarnation. She rolled the scroll back up and tucked it into her sleeve. Accompanied by only two attendants (this Bureau really did need more funding!), she swept onto the west balcony in a cloud of sweet lotus fragrance.
Most rudely, the Star of Heavenly Joy had his back to the doorway when she arrived. Relying on his horde of attendants to alert him to any backstabbing, he was sipping tea from a crude cup. He held it in the tips of his fingers, as if the clay might flake off and soil his smooth, white skin. It was a far cry from the porcelain tea sets that the other Bureaus brought out for formal events.
"Why did you use that set?" she hissed at her head clerk.
"Forgive me, Heavenly Lady, but I thought you would want us to use our most precious set," he babbled back. "These vessels were shaped by the hands of the earliest humans. They are treasures of the Bureau, so I thought – "
"You're not hired to think. Next time, use the modern porcelain."
"Yes, yes, I see now, these are far too fragile for everyday use. I do humbly beg forgiveness for – "
She swept across the balcony to join the Star of Heavenly Joy at the railing. The height afforded them a fine view across the rolling sea of clouds, dyed vermilion and scarlet and lotus pink by the Weaver Maidens.
"Assistant Director," she said in her most serene voice, "what a pleasure it is to speak with my successor in person. Welcome to the Bureau of Human Lives."
He bowed gracefully. "Director, thank you for making time in your impossibly busy schedule to mentor me." When his head came up again, a smile lit his eyes and softened his lips, the very picture of a schoolboy contemplating the object of his adoration.
Oh yes, she could see how this man had charmed the committee into approving his promotion to Assistant Director, how he had charmed those three Peaches of Immortality out of whoever was supposed to be guarding the orchard. She felt an answering smile lift her own lips and flattened their corners.
"Please, shall we sit?" She gestured at the table that had been re-set with modern porcelain while they conversed. After the obligatory remarks about the deliciousness of the teacakes and the skill of her pastry chef (singular), she brought the conversation around to business. "You mentioned that you are troubled by a case at the Bureau of Reincarnation?"
The Star of Heavenly Joy's face set into stern lines. It was a sudden and breathtaking change from the affectionate manner he had affected earlier. This man you could imagine as emperor.
"Yes. Soul Number 11270 has been abusing its special permission to retain its memories on Earth."
Special permission that I was forced to grant because you broke the regulations and meddled with its Tier.
The Superintendent of Reincarnation and all the Accountants had been livid. Individually, they were mere star sprites and could accomplish nothing, but together, they had the power to gum up the functioning of the Bureau. A delay here, "lost" paperwork there, one clerk going home on time instead of staying late to finish a case, another staying resolutely asleep instead of rushing into the office to resolve an emergency – it all added up to catastrophe.
The Goddess of Life sighed lightly. "Has this soul been abusing the gift I granted it in recompense for an error in judgement made by one of my employees? How fortunate, then, that that employee is still at the Bureau and can take steps to rectify the situation."
The Star of Heavenly Joy leaned forward, his sudden intensity washing over her. "Do you have any advice on how the situation should be rectified?"
Her heartrate had gone up. She trailed a bored hand across her armrest to hide it. "Goodness, there are so many options that it is difficult to list them all. Simplest, of course, would be to revoke the special permission in light of the soul's recent transgressions."
"Ah, yes." From his satisfied tone, she could tell that was what he'd been hoping to obtain – her express permission to revoke her decree. He neglected to thank her for it. "There is a related, delicate matter on which I wished to consult you."
The Goddess of Life felt the scroll inside her sleeve. She arched her eyebrows, inviting him to continue.
"Soul Number 11270 has abused its understanding of the karma system to accumulate positive karma at a rate that is unfair to others. Worse, she has been spreading that understanding to others. If the way the system works becomes common knowledge, it will no longer function to reward true virtue. Instead, it will reward those who are most talented at feigning virtue."
Still bitter at the fox demon who brought down your empire, are you, Cassius?
The Goddess of Life picked up another teacake and pretended to admire its golden-brown crust. "Well, if the soul has transgressed so badly, surely the Accountants will take that into account when calculating her total karma."
"But that is the problem! They tell me that she has accumulated so much positive karma that, under their model, she is due for a promotion!"
My heart bleeds for you, who have such a crafty soul working to enrich your Bureau with offerings.
Aloud, she said, "A promotion in Tier?"
"No, nothing quite so extreme. But a promotion within her current Tier, from feathered to furred creature."
"With such a plethora of furred creatures to select from, I fail to see the problem." The scroll in her sleeve crinkled as she popped the teacake into her mouth. "Although, I do have it on good authority that the Commissioners of Pestilence are concerned that humans in North Serica have forgotten them."
The Star of Heavenly Joy's eyes burned. "Why, then, a good plague might remind them of the respect due the gods."
"Indeed."
They smiled at each other over the teacups. He broke their stare first and inclined his head.
"Thank you for your most generous advice, gracious lady. If I might ever be of service to you...."
You already have. "I will be sure to let you know."
After the Star of Heavenly Joy had left, the Goddess of Life took the scroll out of her sleeve. Her head clerk leaped forward with a brush and inkstone, and she wrote across the bottom, Implement the plague no sooner than one moon hence. Fiat.
Let it be done.
With great satisfaction, she stamped it with her official seal.
I awoke in darkness in an archival box. Whew! That meant I was still Black Tier. It would have been terrible if founding the Temple to the Kitchen God had earned me so much positive karma that I'd overshot and landed in Red Tier with the monkeys or, worse, in Yellow Tier with the humans! Flicker had once hinted that the amount of karma required to advance from Tier to Tier grew exponentially (and then had had to draw a picture to explain what "exponential growth" was, i.e. some Accountant's evil dream). To drop myself from Yellow Tier to Black, who knew what I'd have to do? Destroy another empire?
Bobo's face filled my mind, eyes wide and shocked. "But we jussst re-founded this one!" she'd protest.
Stripey's face – his whistling duck face – superimposed itself over hers. "Oh, Piri. Really?"
Their imagined disappointment was hard to bear.
No, I said out loud. Not really. It was just a joke.
And now I was talking to figments of my imagination. Lovely.
For the remainder of the forty-nine days, I fretted over all the trouble that my friends would get into without me. The foxling was as dangerously erratic as, well, me, if I were being honest. Steelfang and his wolves wouldn't lift a paw to restrain her. Floridiana, meanwhile, would leap on Dusty's back and go galloping off at the first hint of adventure, with Den flying after them. Even Lodia had begun to display a worrisome tendency towards impulsiveness. I had to get back as fast as I could.
Let's see. If I reincarnated again as a sparrow outside Lychee Grove, how long would it take to fly to Flying Fish Village?
Too long.
In that case, could I convince Lodia's grandmother or father, or maybe even the Lady of the Lychee Tree, to help me?
Unlikely. All of them distrusted me too much.
However, if I waited until my wings were strong enough to carry me to Goldhill, I could seek out Anthea. She'd wail about the expense and her emptying treasury, but that was all right. I merely needed to remind her that the Temple benefitted her more than anyone else.
All right. I had a plan.
"And if you aren't reincarnated as a sparrow outside Lychee Grove this time?" Stripey asked inside my mind. "What then?"
But without knowing what I reincarnated as or where, the possibilities were infinite. So, in the end, I settled down to wait.
"Congratulations," Flicker said, sounding anything but congratulatory. "You have accumulated so much positive karma that you have been promoted from feathered creature to furred."
My reaction matched his tone. My plan depended on having wings. Now how was I supposed to return to Flying Fish Village?
Are you sure about that? I pressed, before the implication of his final word hit me. Wait! Did you say "furred"? As in, an animal with fur? As in – a fox?!
Flicker sucked his cheeks in as he searched for a way to let me down gently. "Well, you see, you're only going to be an entry-level furred creature...."
The door banged open behind me, then slammed shut behind a tall figure draped in the midnight-blue robes of a star god. Cassius. Surveying the silk with distaste, I thought that Lodia could have done such a better job on the embroidery. None of these utilitarian, five-pointed stars – she could have made you feel as if you were falling into the night when you looked at the constellations.
Flicker scrambled to prostrate himself. "Assistant Director! How may I be of service?"
Uh…. Assistant Director?
I swung from side to side, as if the motion could negate the reality. Cassius had become the Assistant Director of Reincarnation? But that meant – with the Kitchen God away all the time – Cassius was effectively in charge of the Bureau! Cassius, who hated me! Cassius, who had already interfered in my reincarnation once before, so blatantly that the Goddess of Life had been forced to redress it –
Oh, no. No no no.
Cassius was Assistant Director now. That meant – that meant – if he wanted to, he had the authority to –
I dipped all the way to the floor in a soul's approximation of a genuflection. Heavenly Lord, might I congratulate you on your promotion?
I thought I'd injected the perfect amount of awe into my murmur, but the hard lines of his face didn't relax. Instead, he strode forward. Too late, I realized where his path would take him and glided sideways –
Splat.
He crushed me underfoot, leaving me a smear of black on the floorboards.
Flicker gasped. I cried out, more from shock than pain. Being smashed and ground into the floorboards under his heel didn't actually hurt. I was strong. I was resilient. I was a squishy ball of light. Chanting this over and over, I peeled myself off the slats and popped back into a sphere.
Level with me was Flicker's horrified face.
A screech of chair legs told us that Cassius had just commandeered the only seat in the office. Papers rustled.
The last time he'd come in here, I'd flattered him, snuggled up to him, stroked his ego. It had failed, but I'd had nothing to lose by angering him either. This time – this time –
Staying put on the floor, I breathed, Heavenly Lord, your interest in my case honors me. Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit?
A sharp rap on the table above me.
"As Assistant Director of Reincarnation, I hereby revoke the permission granted by my predecessor for you to keep your memories when you reincarnate."
A/N: Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, Autocharth, BananaBobert, Celia, Charlotte, Ed, Fuzzycakes, Ike, Kimani, Lindsey, Michael, TheLunaticCo, yoghogfog, and Anonymous!
Insultingly, the Star of Heavenly Joy arrived barely on time, which meant that he was late. Not a good look for someone begging a favor from her.
The Goddess of Life had not, of course, been waiting in the entry hall for him – way too many documents required stamping for that, plus whoever heard of a Bureau Director waiting for an Assistant Director? She had, however, been rehearsing variations of their conversation, and by the time her head clerk announced her guest's arrival, she was already sick of both it and him.
Make that "them," she decided as the star sprite prostrated himself before her desk.
"Don't grovel," she snapped. "Show him to the west balcony. Tell him I am held up by matters of critical import but will be there shortly."
While the clerk bowed himself out, she picked up the next scroll and skimmed it. One of the Commissioners of Pestilence was applying for permission to unleash a plague on North Serica.
Offerings from the north have dwindled as humans have forgotten their respect for us, he wrote. We request permission to remind them what they owe the Bureau of Human Lives and the great Lady who leads us.
About to stamp the bottom and toss it onto the "approved" heap, she paused. A plague in North Serica. A pesky soul who was even now re-coalescing in the Bureau of Reincarnation. She rolled the scroll back up and tucked it into her sleeve. Accompanied by only two attendants (this Bureau really did need more funding!), she swept onto the west balcony in a cloud of sweet lotus fragrance.
Most rudely, the Star of Heavenly Joy had his back to the doorway when she arrived. Relying on his horde of attendants to alert him to any backstabbing, he was sipping tea from a crude cup. He held it in the tips of his fingers, as if the clay might flake off and soil his smooth, white skin. It was a far cry from the porcelain tea sets that the other Bureaus brought out for formal events.
"Why did you use that set?" she hissed at her head clerk.
"Forgive me, Heavenly Lady, but I thought you would want us to use our most precious set," he babbled back. "These vessels were shaped by the hands of the earliest humans. They are treasures of the Bureau, so I thought – "
"You're not hired to think. Next time, use the modern porcelain."
"Yes, yes, I see now, these are far too fragile for everyday use. I do humbly beg forgiveness for – "
She swept across the balcony to join the Star of Heavenly Joy at the railing. The height afforded them a fine view across the rolling sea of clouds, dyed vermilion and scarlet and lotus pink by the Weaver Maidens.
"Assistant Director," she said in her most serene voice, "what a pleasure it is to speak with my successor in person. Welcome to the Bureau of Human Lives."
He bowed gracefully. "Director, thank you for making time in your impossibly busy schedule to mentor me." When his head came up again, a smile lit his eyes and softened his lips, the very picture of a schoolboy contemplating the object of his adoration.
Oh yes, she could see how this man had charmed the committee into approving his promotion to Assistant Director, how he had charmed those three Peaches of Immortality out of whoever was supposed to be guarding the orchard. She felt an answering smile lift her own lips and flattened their corners.
"Please, shall we sit?" She gestured at the table that had been re-set with modern porcelain while they conversed. After the obligatory remarks about the deliciousness of the teacakes and the skill of her pastry chef (singular), she brought the conversation around to business. "You mentioned that you are troubled by a case at the Bureau of Reincarnation?"
The Star of Heavenly Joy's face set into stern lines. It was a sudden and breathtaking change from the affectionate manner he had affected earlier. This man you could imagine as emperor.
"Yes. Soul Number 11270 has been abusing its special permission to retain its memories on Earth."
Special permission that I was forced to grant because you broke the regulations and meddled with its Tier.
The Superintendent of Reincarnation and all the Accountants had been livid. Individually, they were mere star sprites and could accomplish nothing, but together, they had the power to gum up the functioning of the Bureau. A delay here, "lost" paperwork there, one clerk going home on time instead of staying late to finish a case, another staying resolutely asleep instead of rushing into the office to resolve an emergency – it all added up to catastrophe.
The Goddess of Life sighed lightly. "Has this soul been abusing the gift I granted it in recompense for an error in judgement made by one of my employees? How fortunate, then, that that employee is still at the Bureau and can take steps to rectify the situation."
The Star of Heavenly Joy leaned forward, his sudden intensity washing over her. "Do you have any advice on how the situation should be rectified?"
Her heartrate had gone up. She trailed a bored hand across her armrest to hide it. "Goodness, there are so many options that it is difficult to list them all. Simplest, of course, would be to revoke the special permission in light of the soul's recent transgressions."
"Ah, yes." From his satisfied tone, she could tell that was what he'd been hoping to obtain – her express permission to revoke her decree. He neglected to thank her for it. "There is a related, delicate matter on which I wished to consult you."
The Goddess of Life felt the scroll inside her sleeve. She arched her eyebrows, inviting him to continue.
"Soul Number 11270 has abused its understanding of the karma system to accumulate positive karma at a rate that is unfair to others. Worse, she has been spreading that understanding to others. If the way the system works becomes common knowledge, it will no longer function to reward true virtue. Instead, it will reward those who are most talented at feigning virtue."
Still bitter at the fox demon who brought down your empire, are you, Cassius?
The Goddess of Life picked up another teacake and pretended to admire its golden-brown crust. "Well, if the soul has transgressed so badly, surely the Accountants will take that into account when calculating her total karma."
"But that is the problem! They tell me that she has accumulated so much positive karma that, under their model, she is due for a promotion!"
My heart bleeds for you, who have such a crafty soul working to enrich your Bureau with offerings.
Aloud, she said, "A promotion in Tier?"
"No, nothing quite so extreme. But a promotion within her current Tier, from feathered to furred creature."
"With such a plethora of furred creatures to select from, I fail to see the problem." The scroll in her sleeve crinkled as she popped the teacake into her mouth. "Although, I do have it on good authority that the Commissioners of Pestilence are concerned that humans in North Serica have forgotten them."
The Star of Heavenly Joy's eyes burned. "Why, then, a good plague might remind them of the respect due the gods."
"Indeed."
They smiled at each other over the teacups. He broke their stare first and inclined his head.
"Thank you for your most generous advice, gracious lady. If I might ever be of service to you...."
You already have. "I will be sure to let you know."
After the Star of Heavenly Joy had left, the Goddess of Life took the scroll out of her sleeve. Her head clerk leaped forward with a brush and inkstone, and she wrote across the bottom, Implement the plague no sooner than one moon hence. Fiat.
Let it be done.
With great satisfaction, she stamped it with her official seal.
I awoke in darkness in an archival box. Whew! That meant I was still Black Tier. It would have been terrible if founding the Temple to the Kitchen God had earned me so much positive karma that I'd overshot and landed in Red Tier with the monkeys or, worse, in Yellow Tier with the humans! Flicker had once hinted that the amount of karma required to advance from Tier to Tier grew exponentially (and then had had to draw a picture to explain what "exponential growth" was, i.e. some Accountant's evil dream). To drop myself from Yellow Tier to Black, who knew what I'd have to do? Destroy another empire?
Bobo's face filled my mind, eyes wide and shocked. "But we jussst re-founded this one!" she'd protest.
Stripey's face – his whistling duck face – superimposed itself over hers. "Oh, Piri. Really?"
Their imagined disappointment was hard to bear.
No, I said out loud. Not really. It was just a joke.
And now I was talking to figments of my imagination. Lovely.
For the remainder of the forty-nine days, I fretted over all the trouble that my friends would get into without me. The foxling was as dangerously erratic as, well, me, if I were being honest. Steelfang and his wolves wouldn't lift a paw to restrain her. Floridiana, meanwhile, would leap on Dusty's back and go galloping off at the first hint of adventure, with Den flying after them. Even Lodia had begun to display a worrisome tendency towards impulsiveness. I had to get back as fast as I could.
Let's see. If I reincarnated again as a sparrow outside Lychee Grove, how long would it take to fly to Flying Fish Village?
Too long.
In that case, could I convince Lodia's grandmother or father, or maybe even the Lady of the Lychee Tree, to help me?
Unlikely. All of them distrusted me too much.
However, if I waited until my wings were strong enough to carry me to Goldhill, I could seek out Anthea. She'd wail about the expense and her emptying treasury, but that was all right. I merely needed to remind her that the Temple benefitted her more than anyone else.
All right. I had a plan.
"And if you aren't reincarnated as a sparrow outside Lychee Grove this time?" Stripey asked inside my mind. "What then?"
But without knowing what I reincarnated as or where, the possibilities were infinite. So, in the end, I settled down to wait.
"Congratulations," Flicker said, sounding anything but congratulatory. "You have accumulated so much positive karma that you have been promoted from feathered creature to furred."
My reaction matched his tone. My plan depended on having wings. Now how was I supposed to return to Flying Fish Village?
Are you sure about that? I pressed, before the implication of his final word hit me. Wait! Did you say "furred"? As in, an animal with fur? As in – a fox?!
Flicker sucked his cheeks in as he searched for a way to let me down gently. "Well, you see, you're only going to be an entry-level furred creature...."
The door banged open behind me, then slammed shut behind a tall figure draped in the midnight-blue robes of a star god. Cassius. Surveying the silk with distaste, I thought that Lodia could have done such a better job on the embroidery. None of these utilitarian, five-pointed stars – she could have made you feel as if you were falling into the night when you looked at the constellations.
Flicker scrambled to prostrate himself. "Assistant Director! How may I be of service?"
Uh…. Assistant Director?
I swung from side to side, as if the motion could negate the reality. Cassius had become the Assistant Director of Reincarnation? But that meant – with the Kitchen God away all the time – Cassius was effectively in charge of the Bureau! Cassius, who hated me! Cassius, who had already interfered in my reincarnation once before, so blatantly that the Goddess of Life had been forced to redress it –
Oh, no. No no no.
Cassius was Assistant Director now. That meant – that meant – if he wanted to, he had the authority to –
I dipped all the way to the floor in a soul's approximation of a genuflection. Heavenly Lord, might I congratulate you on your promotion?
I thought I'd injected the perfect amount of awe into my murmur, but the hard lines of his face didn't relax. Instead, he strode forward. Too late, I realized where his path would take him and glided sideways –
Splat.
He crushed me underfoot, leaving me a smear of black on the floorboards.
Flicker gasped. I cried out, more from shock than pain. Being smashed and ground into the floorboards under his heel didn't actually hurt. I was strong. I was resilient. I was a squishy ball of light. Chanting this over and over, I peeled myself off the slats and popped back into a sphere.
Level with me was Flicker's horrified face.
A screech of chair legs told us that Cassius had just commandeered the only seat in the office. Papers rustled.
The last time he'd come in here, I'd flattered him, snuggled up to him, stroked his ego. It had failed, but I'd had nothing to lose by angering him either. This time – this time –
Staying put on the floor, I breathed, Heavenly Lord, your interest in my case honors me. Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit?
A sharp rap on the table above me.
"As Assistant Director of Reincarnation, I hereby revoke the permission granted by my predecessor for you to keep your memories when you reincarnate."
A/N: Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, Autocharth, BananaBobert, Celia, Charlotte, Ed, Fuzzycakes, Ike, Kimani, Lindsey, Michael, TheLunaticCo, yoghogfog, and Anonymous!
We knew this was coming since last chapter, and now the other shoe has dropped... I have faith in Piri, but how will she get out of this? In all likelihood, it'll be thanks to the friends who remember her
Piri's thought exactly!
Yep! Luckily she's made a group of loyal friends. You'll see what they decide to do about this mess!
Bob-omb
(Verified Fuse)
- Location
- Canada
Ah yes, good old work to rule, i expect Cassius's continuing feud with Piri is only going to make things worse. Especially considering that the normal ways of resolving issues won't work anymore. We've seen that complaints go to the director, and if they aren't present the assistant director, but what happens if the problem is the assistant director?
Theoretically you could escalate your complaint over the assistant director and director to the office attached to the Jade Emperor...but you'd better have a really good reason for doing it!
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
How about "he was wrongfully acquitted and rewarded for the crimes I was punished for as his co-conspirator?"
JK, this version of the Celestial Bureaucracy doesn't do real justice.
Heavenly Bureaucrat: Huh? Real justice? What's that?
- Location
- PA
Actually if I recall, Life I think is more passively recruited versus having that much in legit dirt on her.
Arguably the tea skip thing was done above board, I thought, and unfortunately while Cassius is being a slimy jerk I've not heard of any rules that say she had to keep allowing Piri to do shenanigans, especially seeing as Piri was spreading illicit knowledge…
Soo I think Piri was technically breaking the rules…
But, it's hard to say if she's been properly paid backs for the whole 'losing an immortal nine-tail fox life and eating the blame for Heaven's schemes.'
Arguably the tea skip thing was done above board, I thought, and unfortunately while Cassius is being a slimy jerk I've not heard of any rules that say she had to keep allowing Piri to do shenanigans, especially seeing as Piri was spreading illicit knowledge…
Soo I think Piri was technically breaking the rules…
But, it's hard to say if she's been properly paid backs for the whole 'losing an immortal nine-tail fox life and eating the blame for Heaven's schemes.'
Yeah, the Goddess of Life isn't particularly corrupt, so far as the Heavenly Bureaucracy goes. Technically once she left the Bureau of Reincarnation and Cassius took over as Assistant Director, he could have revoked her decree himself. It would just have been poor politics for him to do so, as if he were saying that his predecessor had erred.
Piri would argue that it takes a lot more than keeping her memories during her lives on Earth to recompense her fully!
Fall Dumpling Party + Happy Thanksgiving!
View: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aMIf5oJ-C1cOSmuCXLx5bose_Nh0DT-C/view?usp=sharing
Happy Thanksgiving to all my wonderful readers! I am so grateful to all of you for following along with Piri for over three years now, keeping watch over our favorite ex-nine-tailed fox as she slowly progresses from being a selfish, narcissistic destroyer of empires to a…less selfish, less narcissistic builder of empires? Thank you for encouraging me to keep writing by backing me on Patreon and by sending kind words and feedback. I couldn't do it without you!
In case you can't see the image, it's also here.
Just for fun! I was out on a walk and found something that looked like an acorn but had a leafy green cap (like the ones they're wearing). I thought it looked interesting, so I brought it home to draw.
Chapter 173: Cassius' Revenge
My worst nightmare unfurled before my, well, not-eyes.
This was Cassius' revenge. He would condemn me to reincarnate without my memories, without my mind. He would sentence me to an eternity of lives as thoughtless animals who moved through the world with no strategy, no awareness of how their actions might impact humans and karma totals. It would be like my lives as an earthworm.
"Try not to scare any small children," Flicker had advised all those centuries ago, before I'd learned or bothered to learn his name. I'd thought it was inane advice, for how could a worm with no eyes tell whether the coolness of the shadow that fell over it came from the shoe of a human child or something that wasn't human at all?
Then Cassius had flagrantly violated regulations by kicking me from Green Tier down to White, Flicker had found the courage to file an official complaint against a god, and the Goddess of Life had decided, perhaps on a whim, to grant my request to keep my memories when I reincarnated. Since then, Flicker's advice about not scaring small human children had been my lodestar.
And now – now – Cassius was back as the Assistant Director of Reincarnation, the unchallengeable authority in the Bureau for most of the year, with absolute power to destroy me. Could you literally destroy a soul? I didn't know, but he'd erase me in the figurative sense. Just as I had erased him, his family, his dynasty, and his empire.
If I could take it all back, I would.
His dark eyes were scrutinizing me, waiting for any hint of dismay that he could seize on and gloat over. Think! There had to be something I could say to improve this situation! Even if all it did for now were to lay the groundwork for future improvement.
What would I have done, back when he was emperor and I was a thousand-year-old nine-tailed fox?
I floated above the table and attempted to tilt seductively. Since I was a ball of light with no distinguishing features, this had no effect. I soldiered on anyway, like One Ear in that fight against the joro spider chieftain, Lodia in that fight against the oystragon, Stripey and Bobo in any number of fights against my enemies.
Aww, but Heavenly Lord, surely that's a little harsh?
If only I could have accompanied my wheedling with the dip of a fan, the brush of a tail! Maybe then I could have elicited more than a fake scowl.
"The laws of Heaven are clear, and I, as a star god loyal to the Jade Emperor, am sworn to uphold them with incorruptible integrity."
How he got through that sentence was a marvel greater than anything in Heaven or on Earth.
I drifted closer, testing whether I could dim my glow to convey my penitence. Nope. My soul had one brightness.
Of course you are! I would not dare suggest otherwise. Your integrity shines in the night sky as a star!
Okay, not my best line. But seriously, how was I supposed to stroke his ego when all I could see were Bobo's shocked eyes and when all I could hear was Stripey's sniggering? How was I supposed to flirt with anyone with such an audience in my mind?
Surely, in your infinite mercy, you might find a way to apply the laws with justice and compassion?
"Justice and compassion," Cassius mused. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on Flicker's documents and wrinkling the thin paper. (Thinner and finer than anything that South Serica, the only kingdom to remember the technology of paper production, could make.) He laced his fingers under his chin. Go on, I'm listening, said his eyebrows.
How many times had he, as emperor, leaned across his massive, carved rosewood desk, ready to listen to me, to be cajoled, flattered, bribed? I relaxed slightly. We'd always understood each other, Cassius and I.
I know I have – what was the right word here? "Erred"? "Wronged you"? "Transgressed"? – I know I have abused your patience and that of Heaven in the past, for which I deserved the strictest punishment. (Which I had already, in my opinion, more than served.) Which I have received and accepted. I have been attempting, in some paltry way, to atone for the trouble I caused then.
Cassius had to benefit from the influx of offerings to the Kitchen God, didn't he? As the highest-ranking official in the Bureau most of the year, he had all the power he could wish for to arrogate offerings to himself. Certainly they weren't going to clerk office renovation, because the floor didn't look any newer or even cleaner than it had.
I ask only that I be given a chance to continue to atone.
"And your atonement. What form would it take?"
I would set things right on Earth, Heavenly Lord. I would mend what was smashed. I would be the advocate of Heaven's will, reminding all of their duty to the gods.
There. I thought I'd left that vague enough to tempt him without committing me to any specific course.
"Ah, yes. You refer, I presume, to your formation of a Temple to the Kitchen God and your announcement of the re-founding of the Serican Empire?"
I bobbed down, then up. Just so, Heavenly Lord. Although I stand ready, as ever, to take guidance on such affairs.
In my mind, Stripey wheezed with laughter. Hush, you, I thought at him.
"You do, do you?" Cassius steepled his fingers and considered it for so long that I began to hope I'd hooked him. Then he gave a curt shake of his head. "No, Piri. Soul Number 11270," he corrected himself. "I shall not be swayed by your wiles. Clerk."
Still prostrate on the floor, Flicker asked, "Yes, Assistant Director? How may I be of service?"
"Reincarnate this soul normally. Her feeble attempt at bribery shall not pervert Heavenly justice."
Yeah. Sure it wouldn't. I just hadn't found the right way to bribe him. I'll get you, I vowed silently. Someday, I will see justice actually done.
"Erm, yessir! I mean, Heavenly Lord! I shall reincarnate her at once!"
Flicker scrambled to his feet. Dust bunnies cavorted across his black robes, but he was so flustered he didn't notice.
"Piri – um, Soul Number 11270 – um, I mean." He clenched his fists to calm himself. When he spoke again, it was in a passable imitation of the drone he'd used in the beginning, before we got to know each other. "Please state your name and nature for me."
Piri. I hesitated, then amended it to, Pip. Sparrow.
Flicker's fingers twitched, habit telling him that he needed to confirm that information against my curriculum vitae. Which was still crushed under Cassius' elbow.
"Thank you. Now, if you would dip yourself in the Tea of Forgetfulness – "
Wait! Flicker wouldn't do this. He couldn't do this. Weren't we allies? Friends, even? Wait, Flicker, you can't –
"If you do not dip yourself in the Tea of Forgetfulness, I will be forced to dunk you."
No! Flicker! Please! You can't! What am I reincarnating as? What if I harm humans by accident? Don't do this!
A wince crossed his face. His eyes darted towards that smug, smiling god behind his desk. He took a deep breath. "It is against the regulations to provide souls with such information beforehand. Not that it will help you without your mind. Piri, will you please just cooperate, for once in your many, many lives?"
Some part of me registered that this was as agonizing for him as for me, but panic drowned it out. Wait! There has to be another way! I can – I will – please don't –
Cassius covered a fake yawn with his sleeve. His eyes danced. "Clerk, I don't have all day. Will you or will you not do your job?"
I'm sorry, Flicker mouthed before he lifted his hand.
I saw his finger straighten to point at me. Then I was sailing through the air, towards the vat of Tea of Forgetfulness.
Flicker! Flicker! No!
Splash.
Sniff. Sniff.
Nose twitching. Smell of decay. Rot. Death.
No large shadows. Nobody walking. Safe to go out.
Scurry scurry scurry.
Food smell. Apple core. Still good. Nibble nibble nibble.
Itchy. So itchy. Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch.
Light! Door opening! Loud scream! Running for hole! Scamper scamper scamper!
Shadow coming closer! Nearly at hole! Run run run!
Large shadow overhead. Dark shape coming down!
Run!
Crunch.
Cassius was there to gloat again when I entered Flicker's office. The clerk was groveling on the floor, so haggard that his skin barely glowed. Under bright sunlight, I might have taken him for a human.
Psst! I whispered. You all right?
He gave a fractional nod.
Overhead, Cassius pronounced in a passable imitation of the Kitchen God's jovial boom, "Ah, Soul Number 11270! We meet again. Please state your name and nature."
I'd had plenty of time to figure out the latter while I was recovering in the archival box. My soul still ached with phantom pain from getting crushed by a cooking pot.
I had no name, I replied as evenly as I could. I was a rat. Heavenly Lord.
"Not just any rat," he corrected cheerfully.
Cassius – cheerful? Of all the moods I'd seen him in or provoked him into, bubbly good cheer had not been one of them.
What's wrong with him? I hissed at Flicker.
The clerk mouthed, "He'll tell you."
Indeed, Cassius affected magnanimity. "You may rise, Piri. No need to stand – or should I say grovel? – on ceremony."
He'd always been most dangerous when he was pretending to be clever. I floated up so he could see all of me.
"Still Black Tier?" he marveled. "Even after the life you just led? Truly, the Accountants favor you."
The life I just led? I searched my memories, but I only hazily recalled dark passages and dashes to sneak food when no humans were around. I didn't think I'd bitten any humans. Had I stolen too much of their food?
I do not understand, Heavenly Lord, I murmured.
He'd always delighted in knowing more than anyone else. (In practice, what his ministers had done was pretend that they hadn't read – or, in some cases, written – the reports on his desk.)
"You don't even know!" I half-expected Cassius to clap his hands, though of course that was beneath the dignity of a god. "You killed so many people and you didn't even know it! Come now, Piri, I expect more from you than that. At least, in the past, when you killed someone and earned negative karma for it, it was on purpose."
I certainly had not earned any negative karma on purpose, but there was no advantage in contradicting him. I am not what I once was, Heavenly Lord.
"That you most certainly are not." He heaved an exaggerated sigh and rotated my curriculum vitae so it faced me. "Have a look."
Warily, in case he decided to smash me for fun again, I sank down to read it. Words leaped out at me. North Serica. Plague. I froze from the edges of my soul to my very core. Oh no. The empty rooms. The stench of decay. The old apple core no one had thrown out. The itching. The incessant itching. My fur had been home to the fleas that carried the plague, and I had paid for it in karma.
My only consolation was that the fleas had probably earned more negative karma.
Is the plague still going on?
If it had burned itself out, if I reincarnated as a rat again, then maybe I wouldn't accidentally spread the murderous disease.
Cassius shook his head in mock sorrow. "Alas, for too long, humans have neglected the Commissioners of Pestilence. They will not be so swiftly appeased."
Oh dear. And with humans dying in droves, there wouldn't be enough people to till the fields or cook the foods or weave the cloth to offer the gods. An idea began to form in my mind, and I worked it out as I spoke.
And justly are the humans punished, but surely, if a god, full of compassion, were to extend his hand to them now, in their darkest hour – if he were to avert their punishment, lessen their torment by persuading the Commissioners of Pestilence to dowse their ire – that god would be beloved by humans everywhere. For he would be the true Divine Intercessor, would he not?
As I conjured the vision of adoring masses pouring into temples, sweeping aside the statues of the Kitchen God and replacing them with Cassius' own image, his eyes lit up. His lips quirked into his genuine smile.
"But he would also be a traitor to his own Director, would he not?"
I tipped myself from side to side. Not necessarily, my lord. It would all depend on how it is framed.
The altars were, after all, wide enough for two images. More, even. Enough to add all the Commissioners of Pestilence themselves if we wished.
"I will think on what you have said," he told me, and I could tell that he meant it. "For now, it is time for your next life."
In the interest of preserving his good mood, I flew myself over to the Tea of Forgetfulness. Maybe, if I tried hard enough, I could will myself to keep my memories. I will remember, I will remember, I will remember, I chanted to myself.
I did not.
A/N: Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, Autocharth, BananaBobert, Celia, Charlotte, Ed, Fuzzycakes, Ike, Kimani, Lindsey, Michael, TheLunaticCo, yoghogfog, and Anonymous!
This was Cassius' revenge. He would condemn me to reincarnate without my memories, without my mind. He would sentence me to an eternity of lives as thoughtless animals who moved through the world with no strategy, no awareness of how their actions might impact humans and karma totals. It would be like my lives as an earthworm.
"Try not to scare any small children," Flicker had advised all those centuries ago, before I'd learned or bothered to learn his name. I'd thought it was inane advice, for how could a worm with no eyes tell whether the coolness of the shadow that fell over it came from the shoe of a human child or something that wasn't human at all?
Then Cassius had flagrantly violated regulations by kicking me from Green Tier down to White, Flicker had found the courage to file an official complaint against a god, and the Goddess of Life had decided, perhaps on a whim, to grant my request to keep my memories when I reincarnated. Since then, Flicker's advice about not scaring small human children had been my lodestar.
And now – now – Cassius was back as the Assistant Director of Reincarnation, the unchallengeable authority in the Bureau for most of the year, with absolute power to destroy me. Could you literally destroy a soul? I didn't know, but he'd erase me in the figurative sense. Just as I had erased him, his family, his dynasty, and his empire.
If I could take it all back, I would.
His dark eyes were scrutinizing me, waiting for any hint of dismay that he could seize on and gloat over. Think! There had to be something I could say to improve this situation! Even if all it did for now were to lay the groundwork for future improvement.
What would I have done, back when he was emperor and I was a thousand-year-old nine-tailed fox?
I floated above the table and attempted to tilt seductively. Since I was a ball of light with no distinguishing features, this had no effect. I soldiered on anyway, like One Ear in that fight against the joro spider chieftain, Lodia in that fight against the oystragon, Stripey and Bobo in any number of fights against my enemies.
Aww, but Heavenly Lord, surely that's a little harsh?
If only I could have accompanied my wheedling with the dip of a fan, the brush of a tail! Maybe then I could have elicited more than a fake scowl.
"The laws of Heaven are clear, and I, as a star god loyal to the Jade Emperor, am sworn to uphold them with incorruptible integrity."
How he got through that sentence was a marvel greater than anything in Heaven or on Earth.
I drifted closer, testing whether I could dim my glow to convey my penitence. Nope. My soul had one brightness.
Of course you are! I would not dare suggest otherwise. Your integrity shines in the night sky as a star!
Okay, not my best line. But seriously, how was I supposed to stroke his ego when all I could see were Bobo's shocked eyes and when all I could hear was Stripey's sniggering? How was I supposed to flirt with anyone with such an audience in my mind?
Surely, in your infinite mercy, you might find a way to apply the laws with justice and compassion?
"Justice and compassion," Cassius mused. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on Flicker's documents and wrinkling the thin paper. (Thinner and finer than anything that South Serica, the only kingdom to remember the technology of paper production, could make.) He laced his fingers under his chin. Go on, I'm listening, said his eyebrows.
How many times had he, as emperor, leaned across his massive, carved rosewood desk, ready to listen to me, to be cajoled, flattered, bribed? I relaxed slightly. We'd always understood each other, Cassius and I.
I know I have – what was the right word here? "Erred"? "Wronged you"? "Transgressed"? – I know I have abused your patience and that of Heaven in the past, for which I deserved the strictest punishment. (Which I had already, in my opinion, more than served.) Which I have received and accepted. I have been attempting, in some paltry way, to atone for the trouble I caused then.
Cassius had to benefit from the influx of offerings to the Kitchen God, didn't he? As the highest-ranking official in the Bureau most of the year, he had all the power he could wish for to arrogate offerings to himself. Certainly they weren't going to clerk office renovation, because the floor didn't look any newer or even cleaner than it had.
I ask only that I be given a chance to continue to atone.
"And your atonement. What form would it take?"
I would set things right on Earth, Heavenly Lord. I would mend what was smashed. I would be the advocate of Heaven's will, reminding all of their duty to the gods.
There. I thought I'd left that vague enough to tempt him without committing me to any specific course.
"Ah, yes. You refer, I presume, to your formation of a Temple to the Kitchen God and your announcement of the re-founding of the Serican Empire?"
I bobbed down, then up. Just so, Heavenly Lord. Although I stand ready, as ever, to take guidance on such affairs.
In my mind, Stripey wheezed with laughter. Hush, you, I thought at him.
"You do, do you?" Cassius steepled his fingers and considered it for so long that I began to hope I'd hooked him. Then he gave a curt shake of his head. "No, Piri. Soul Number 11270," he corrected himself. "I shall not be swayed by your wiles. Clerk."
Still prostrate on the floor, Flicker asked, "Yes, Assistant Director? How may I be of service?"
"Reincarnate this soul normally. Her feeble attempt at bribery shall not pervert Heavenly justice."
Yeah. Sure it wouldn't. I just hadn't found the right way to bribe him. I'll get you, I vowed silently. Someday, I will see justice actually done.
"Erm, yessir! I mean, Heavenly Lord! I shall reincarnate her at once!"
Flicker scrambled to his feet. Dust bunnies cavorted across his black robes, but he was so flustered he didn't notice.
"Piri – um, Soul Number 11270 – um, I mean." He clenched his fists to calm himself. When he spoke again, it was in a passable imitation of the drone he'd used in the beginning, before we got to know each other. "Please state your name and nature for me."
Piri. I hesitated, then amended it to, Pip. Sparrow.
Flicker's fingers twitched, habit telling him that he needed to confirm that information against my curriculum vitae. Which was still crushed under Cassius' elbow.
"Thank you. Now, if you would dip yourself in the Tea of Forgetfulness – "
Wait! Flicker wouldn't do this. He couldn't do this. Weren't we allies? Friends, even? Wait, Flicker, you can't –
"If you do not dip yourself in the Tea of Forgetfulness, I will be forced to dunk you."
No! Flicker! Please! You can't! What am I reincarnating as? What if I harm humans by accident? Don't do this!
A wince crossed his face. His eyes darted towards that smug, smiling god behind his desk. He took a deep breath. "It is against the regulations to provide souls with such information beforehand. Not that it will help you without your mind. Piri, will you please just cooperate, for once in your many, many lives?"
Some part of me registered that this was as agonizing for him as for me, but panic drowned it out. Wait! There has to be another way! I can – I will – please don't –
Cassius covered a fake yawn with his sleeve. His eyes danced. "Clerk, I don't have all day. Will you or will you not do your job?"
I'm sorry, Flicker mouthed before he lifted his hand.
I saw his finger straighten to point at me. Then I was sailing through the air, towards the vat of Tea of Forgetfulness.
Flicker! Flicker! No!
Splash.
Sniff. Sniff.
Nose twitching. Smell of decay. Rot. Death.
No large shadows. Nobody walking. Safe to go out.
Scurry scurry scurry.
Food smell. Apple core. Still good. Nibble nibble nibble.
Itchy. So itchy. Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch.
Light! Door opening! Loud scream! Running for hole! Scamper scamper scamper!
Shadow coming closer! Nearly at hole! Run run run!
Large shadow overhead. Dark shape coming down!
Run!
Crunch.
Cassius was there to gloat again when I entered Flicker's office. The clerk was groveling on the floor, so haggard that his skin barely glowed. Under bright sunlight, I might have taken him for a human.
Psst! I whispered. You all right?
He gave a fractional nod.
Overhead, Cassius pronounced in a passable imitation of the Kitchen God's jovial boom, "Ah, Soul Number 11270! We meet again. Please state your name and nature."
I'd had plenty of time to figure out the latter while I was recovering in the archival box. My soul still ached with phantom pain from getting crushed by a cooking pot.
I had no name, I replied as evenly as I could. I was a rat. Heavenly Lord.
"Not just any rat," he corrected cheerfully.
Cassius – cheerful? Of all the moods I'd seen him in or provoked him into, bubbly good cheer had not been one of them.
What's wrong with him? I hissed at Flicker.
The clerk mouthed, "He'll tell you."
Indeed, Cassius affected magnanimity. "You may rise, Piri. No need to stand – or should I say grovel? – on ceremony."
He'd always been most dangerous when he was pretending to be clever. I floated up so he could see all of me.
"Still Black Tier?" he marveled. "Even after the life you just led? Truly, the Accountants favor you."
The life I just led? I searched my memories, but I only hazily recalled dark passages and dashes to sneak food when no humans were around. I didn't think I'd bitten any humans. Had I stolen too much of their food?
I do not understand, Heavenly Lord, I murmured.
He'd always delighted in knowing more than anyone else. (In practice, what his ministers had done was pretend that they hadn't read – or, in some cases, written – the reports on his desk.)
"You don't even know!" I half-expected Cassius to clap his hands, though of course that was beneath the dignity of a god. "You killed so many people and you didn't even know it! Come now, Piri, I expect more from you than that. At least, in the past, when you killed someone and earned negative karma for it, it was on purpose."
I certainly had not earned any negative karma on purpose, but there was no advantage in contradicting him. I am not what I once was, Heavenly Lord.
"That you most certainly are not." He heaved an exaggerated sigh and rotated my curriculum vitae so it faced me. "Have a look."
Warily, in case he decided to smash me for fun again, I sank down to read it. Words leaped out at me. North Serica. Plague. I froze from the edges of my soul to my very core. Oh no. The empty rooms. The stench of decay. The old apple core no one had thrown out. The itching. The incessant itching. My fur had been home to the fleas that carried the plague, and I had paid for it in karma.
My only consolation was that the fleas had probably earned more negative karma.
Is the plague still going on?
If it had burned itself out, if I reincarnated as a rat again, then maybe I wouldn't accidentally spread the murderous disease.
Cassius shook his head in mock sorrow. "Alas, for too long, humans have neglected the Commissioners of Pestilence. They will not be so swiftly appeased."
Oh dear. And with humans dying in droves, there wouldn't be enough people to till the fields or cook the foods or weave the cloth to offer the gods. An idea began to form in my mind, and I worked it out as I spoke.
And justly are the humans punished, but surely, if a god, full of compassion, were to extend his hand to them now, in their darkest hour – if he were to avert their punishment, lessen their torment by persuading the Commissioners of Pestilence to dowse their ire – that god would be beloved by humans everywhere. For he would be the true Divine Intercessor, would he not?
As I conjured the vision of adoring masses pouring into temples, sweeping aside the statues of the Kitchen God and replacing them with Cassius' own image, his eyes lit up. His lips quirked into his genuine smile.
"But he would also be a traitor to his own Director, would he not?"
I tipped myself from side to side. Not necessarily, my lord. It would all depend on how it is framed.
The altars were, after all, wide enough for two images. More, even. Enough to add all the Commissioners of Pestilence themselves if we wished.
"I will think on what you have said," he told me, and I could tell that he meant it. "For now, it is time for your next life."
In the interest of preserving his good mood, I flew myself over to the Tea of Forgetfulness. Maybe, if I tried hard enough, I could will myself to keep my memories. I will remember, I will remember, I will remember, I chanted to myself.
I did not.
A/N: Thanks to my awesome Patreon backers, Autocharth, BananaBobert, Celia, Charlotte, Ed, Fuzzycakes, Ike, Kimani, Lindsey, Michael, TheLunaticCo, yoghogfog, and Anonymous!
- Location
- Not your place of residence
What's funny is that at this point I feel like Piri and Cassius' wife would make for good allies over this. Both are balking at this massive plague that just happened, both despise Cassius, and both know enough about earthly and heavenly politics to figure out a way to lessen the impact of this plague.
Of course that would require them working together and I'm not sure they could be in the same room for half a minute without verbally sparring, much less actually working together.
Of course that would require them working together and I'm not sure they could be in the same room for half a minute without verbally sparring, much less actually working together.
Yeah, it was a maliciously clever way to tank her karma total....
Hang onto that thought for several chapters from now!
If Cassius got Quarta with the plague, he's going to hear words about it.
Oof, yes! Aurelia would be incandescent with rage. Luckily the plague is pretty far away from Claymouth (for now).