World Filter

As it turned out Willow was an incredibly competent healer, but on top of that, her ability to round up people and give them direction in times of medical emergency was second to none. Even Friedrich had made use of her skills. Mark decided that if she wanted to try he’d be willing to let her assume control of his healer’s training and use that to see how well she worked. She had said she needed time to think about it, and Mark had not pushed it. For Friedrich though he had made sure to get a promise that he would at least come and see their territory when he had the chance. From what he could tell the Religious districts were putting pressure on the nearby Healer's house to relocate.

If Mark had to guess, they probably didn’t like the doctors cutting in on their turf. While they couldn’t cure the Corruption like the churches, they had methods of offsetting some of the symptoms. For most, that was enough, especially if they wanted nothing to do with the churches.

Honestly, it just looked like a more complex territorial dispute to Mark and one that he was happy to not be a part of. All three main factions watched over the hospital though so getting them to move would have to go to the very top. And to be honest, Mark was not sure how much influence the holy district had by now.

So once he was done chatting with Friedrich and Willow. Mark made his way out the back entrance and took to the sky as discretely as he could.

But rather than continuing to wander, or head back, Mark made his way over to one of the gates to the religious district.

When he got there he lowered himself to the street. Remembering how well that had gone last time Mark moved forward but the templars at the front barred his entry.

“To which pantheon do you belong? The gate has been barred. Only those initiated or intending to swear allegiance are allowed in at this time.”

Mark paused and scratched his neck.

“Would you be willing to let me see one of the high priests of the church of Brilliance?”

The man’s face remained unchanged.

“Do you intend to swear on their power to join them?”

Mark had to stop himself from shaking his head too violently. There was no way he was messing with the idea of joining an Ideal. Next thing he would be trapped into some sort of contract.

“Then you aren't getting in, come back when you’ve found the sight.”

Mark mulled it over as he looked up at the walls. Stealth had never been his strong suit, maybe he could manage something with [light control] but he wasn’t certain. Nodding to the guard Mark was about to step out of the path when a voice rang out from behind him.

“That man is interested in guidance, why do you continue to turn people away?”

Turning back Mark spotted a small group of men and women. Probably only ten strong, yet they all held a sense of conviction in their stances.

Mark was a little surprised and was about to ask who they were, when the templar's voice growled out.

“Be gone outsider, your kind are not welcome in this district.”

When the man had been talking to Mark, there was boredom in his eyes, but now anger twisted the lines of his face in disgust.

Looking closer, the group gave off the feel of their own religious faction.

Which just further confused Mark. They weren't all wearing matching clothes, in fact, the only thing that identified them as a group, was the symbol of an obelisk with a snake wrapping around it. The image was burned into their clothes as though by a branding iron, and the man at the front had a fresh scar blistering on his neck. He was also the one who spoke.

“Now-now Mr. Templar, I meant nothing by it, and as you have all already stated, this is a public space, anyone is welcome.”

Now Mark was interested because the templar didn’t rebut the man immediately.

Instead, his hand dropped down the holster on his hip.

“This is true of the faithful and the faithless, but you are neither. I have been authorized to use force if you refuse to leave. Your request to join our ranks has already been declined. So leave.”

The man shrugged his shoulders.

“Of course, I was just trying to help you.”

The look of murder the templar gave the man, showed exactly what he thought of that idea.

They began to back off as a group, but the man’s eyes flickered to Mark for just a second.

Mark decided he wasn’t going to get any answers from the religious district unless he could sneak in.

So Mark turned in the opposite direction and moved into the crowd. The Templar didn’t even spare Mark a second glance as he left. When Mark was mixed in with the crowd, he changed course and headed back toward that group of people.

They had only moved a short distance away to a nearby alleyway. When the man in the front saw Mark he broke into a smile.

“Hello, friend. I’m real sorry you couldn’t get the help you needed from them.”

The man had a bit of a southern drawl along with a comfortable smile on his lips.

“The name’s Shelby, what can we do for ya.”

Mark introduced himself and decided to just come out and say it.

“Mind telling me what had that templar all up in arms? Are you a religious faction are you not?”

Shelby grimaced, but Mark noticed a couple of the others behind him looked more off-put.

“Yeah, he really wasn’t polite was he? Well, it’s quite an unimpressive story. We don’t particularly like to call ourselves religious. It’s more a set of instructions.”

Mark’s brow rose.

“And yet you chose to request entrance into the Religious district?”

Shelby shook his head.

“Oh no, that was their choice. They demanded we come to them for their approval, and then publicly rejected us in the hope of shaming us. But honestly, it didn’t work out how they were hoping.”

Mark’s eyes fell on the brand peaking out of Shelby’s shirt. By the look of the angry red, and seeping pus, the wound could not be more than a couple of days old.

“I see, and can you tell me why they aren’t letting anyone in?”

Shelby seemed to um and ah as he tilted his head from side to side.

“Well, my best guess would be that they are trying to consolidate their power. People are getting desperate out here. Best time for faith to go to work.”

“But not you…”

Mark asked with skepticism. Even the way they had approached Mark seemed planned to him, yet Shelby didn’t seem to take the accusation to heart.

“Well. no. As I said we’re not trying to indoctrinate anyone into our number. We're just offering an alternative. Here, I can show you if you like.”

Shelby held out his hand and all sorts of warning bells went off in Mark's head.

“We’re considering becoming a faction because there are quite a few of us but as of yet we haven’t decided on leads. We only recently gathered around the spire, so this is all new to us too.”

Mark only then registered what the brand meant. It wasn’t a snake wrapping around an obelisk. It was a tree wrapping around a spire. Mark felt silly for not seeing it sooner. He’d seen firsthand people's reactions to the structure. It had pushed back the Corrupted, sending them fleeing with just its light. A shiver ran down Mark's spine and he couldn’t help the next question.

“Do you worship the spire?”

Shelby’s smile seemed to return as though thinking of a fond memory.

“No not really, we're grateful but it's probably not some god or something. We do however want to live by the example it set.”

Mark was both relieved and uncomfortable. From the outside, they didn’t seem like fanatics, but the fact that they had gathered so quickly was honestly worrying. Just like Patrica’s church, things seemed to build very quickly when it came to faith.

Shelby had never dropped his hand while they spoke and Mark’s eyes came to rest on the outstretched palm.

Were they already faith-casting? How long exactly did it take to form an entirely new Ideal?

Mark glanced over to the others in the alley and saw they had not moved since Mark entered. Nor did they seem that interested in him.

Mark pressed his lips together and summoned up a massive amount of Prana. Protecting his mind from any outside influences, he took the offered hand.

The moment he did their energies rushed through their interlocked hands and something similar to when Mark had first met Patrica happened. A presence descended, but this one was different in its own right.

Unlike the lord of Brilliance, this one was fully matured, more than that, it felt ancient. As though the weight of countless years came bearing down from above. It contained thoughts and emotions that Mark never thought possible. Yet they were separated by a distance so vast everything felt muted. Which was probably for the best, because then the Ideal began to scan Mark's body when it found the crest it seemed to let out an excited cry and attempted to deepen the connection, offering him flashes of its creed. Somehow Mark knew it would be a disaster if it found his mutated core. So with little thought to spare, Mark lowered his Prana like a screen. In doing so, he blocked the entity from advancing, but what he hadn’t intended was for a construct to wrap the entire alleyway up in Mark's power.

Energy churned through the alleyway, brushing across everything and everyone. Carrying with it the Ideal, it had somehow piggy-back on Mark's power. It had used the crest as an ignition point, realizing this Mark broke contact with Shelby and retracted his construct all at once.

The man took a step back reeling and then looked at Mark with confusion and interest.

Mark ground his molars. What the hell had he been thinking? He had almost made contact with some entity behind the spire. The only thing that made sense was that this particular Ideal had been around for a very long time. It was not just some surface-level deity.

He now understood why the religious district did not allow them in, they felt threatened by the alien ideal.

Faith-casters built up a symbiotic relationship with their gods. They fed and maintained the Ideal through worship, and in turn, the Ideal would feed power back into them in times of need. However, the longer an Ideal was around the more of a consciousness it developed.

The Lord of Brilliance had been ‘alive’ for what a couple of weeks?

This entity had been worshipped for countless eons. Its desires were complicated and Mark struggled to sort through the packet of emotions that came, but the most prevalent one was the calling to protect the spire and those in its proximity. It felt pure and uncomplicated.

Mark managed to get his breathing back under control as a worrying light appeared in Shelby’s eye.

“You said your name was Mark, right?”

The others in the alleyway slowly began to rise one by one, all giving him the same curious glance. Mark wasn’t sure what they were thinking, but he wasn’t interested in the Kool-Aid, as it were.

“Well, sorry for wasting your time, but whatever you guys have going here is not for me at all. I should be going.”

Mark took a couple of calm steps backward and turned to leave, but he still heard Shelby speak.

“Sure no worries, but you know I haven’t seen the spire react to someone like that, Mark.”

Mark didn’t stop but the words did raise something in him, and he spoke over his shoulder as he reached the opening to the alleyway.

“And the spire’s been around for less than a week, who the fuck knows what it wants.”