The New Cult in Town
"Hey," Shadow said to Ladarius as the pair wandered the streets of the newly-freed Thorns with Feathers (Peridot claimed to have better things to do than play with children. The dragonlings, as if proving her point, were babysitting Yan). "You know that guy?"
The master thief was referring to a male dressed in a poorly-fitted dress, standing at a street's corner. The man had, upon seeing Dari, nearly gone into a fit of hysterics and ended up on his hands and knees before Shadow and Dari could cross the street. The Twilight had simply smiled and touched the man's shoulder before moving on. "Is it so weird if I've made a few friends around here?"
Shadow found it entirely too weird. And a little jealousy-inspiring. "Yeah," he complained. "You don't have friends. Yer annoyin'."
"Look," he continued, "I know that with you, it's one stupid thing after another. An' it's always weirder an' weirder. But this is gettin' to be too much. You're struttin' around like you know the place, then you tell me you've never been here--now there's all these folk seem to know you? You got some fessin' up to do."
Dari glanced at him, caste mark glittering even in the afternoon sun--it was nearly always visible ever since he discovered he had picked up something of a strong cult following in Great Forks, providing him with enough power that it was a negligible effort to look upon the world with his sorcerer's Sight at all times. "All right, Shadow," he said. "You deserve to have it straight."
Shadow snorted. "That, an' you get off on explainin' things."
Dari pretended not to hear him. "There are certain metaphysical benefits to being the object of mass worship. The gods gain power from people praying to them, and much the same thing applies here. A select few may have decided, after some of our rather public feats, that I was a figure to be worshipped, some benevolent force of Creation..."
"Y'mean you're an attention whore."
"...They may even think of me as a god. Perhaps the incarnate representation of the uncovering of truths. Judging from the Essence that has become available to me, there must be thousands of them--with that many people, it may even be that there are different groups that worship me for entirely different reasons. Even if I started asking them why, we'll never know them all."
Feathers finally chimed in. "I hate to interrupt, boys, but I might be able to provide some clues to our holiness."
The men gave her a wary look. "You can?" asked Dari.
Feathers smirked. "I got a little literature from the man at that street corner. He was glad to share with me an image of the object of his worship."
The woman was obviously baiting them, but Ladarius would probably give up breathing before he would give up questioning anyone and everyone. "And?"
She held up a piece of paper. On it, a poorly-sketched humanoid of neutral gender, with olive skin and the Twilight caste mark for a face, was trotting daintily along, wearing a dress and wreathed in an aura of power colored like a setting sun. "With the Mask gone, I think a few locals might be going through religious and sexual revolutions all at the same time."
Dari leaned in for a closer look at the caricature, more curious than anything. "You think they see me as some sort of transgendered symbol of sexuality?"
"Says something about the kind of people who like you, doesn't it?" Feathers asked, teasing.
Shadow snorted. "Sure. That they're crappy artists. Dari's way more of a girl than that."
The master thief was referring to a male dressed in a poorly-fitted dress, standing at a street's corner. The man had, upon seeing Dari, nearly gone into a fit of hysterics and ended up on his hands and knees before Shadow and Dari could cross the street. The Twilight had simply smiled and touched the man's shoulder before moving on. "Is it so weird if I've made a few friends around here?"
Shadow found it entirely too weird. And a little jealousy-inspiring. "Yeah," he complained. "You don't have friends. Yer annoyin'."
"Look," he continued, "I know that with you, it's one stupid thing after another. An' it's always weirder an' weirder. But this is gettin' to be too much. You're struttin' around like you know the place, then you tell me you've never been here--now there's all these folk seem to know you? You got some fessin' up to do."
Dari glanced at him, caste mark glittering even in the afternoon sun--it was nearly always visible ever since he discovered he had picked up something of a strong cult following in Great Forks, providing him with enough power that it was a negligible effort to look upon the world with his sorcerer's Sight at all times. "All right, Shadow," he said. "You deserve to have it straight."
Shadow snorted. "That, an' you get off on explainin' things."
Dari pretended not to hear him. "There are certain metaphysical benefits to being the object of mass worship. The gods gain power from people praying to them, and much the same thing applies here. A select few may have decided, after some of our rather public feats, that I was a figure to be worshipped, some benevolent force of Creation..."
"Y'mean you're an attention whore."
"...They may even think of me as a god. Perhaps the incarnate representation of the uncovering of truths. Judging from the Essence that has become available to me, there must be thousands of them--with that many people, it may even be that there are different groups that worship me for entirely different reasons. Even if I started asking them why, we'll never know them all."
Feathers finally chimed in. "I hate to interrupt, boys, but I might be able to provide some clues to our holiness."
The men gave her a wary look. "You can?" asked Dari.
Feathers smirked. "I got a little literature from the man at that street corner. He was glad to share with me an image of the object of his worship."
The woman was obviously baiting them, but Ladarius would probably give up breathing before he would give up questioning anyone and everyone. "And?"
She held up a piece of paper. On it, a poorly-sketched humanoid of neutral gender, with olive skin and the Twilight caste mark for a face, was trotting daintily along, wearing a dress and wreathed in an aura of power colored like a setting sun. "With the Mask gone, I think a few locals might be going through religious and sexual revolutions all at the same time."
Dari leaned in for a closer look at the caricature, more curious than anything. "You think they see me as some sort of transgendered symbol of sexuality?"
"Says something about the kind of people who like you, doesn't it?" Feathers asked, teasing.
Shadow snorted. "Sure. That they're crappy artists. Dari's way more of a girl than that."