novelraw Chapter 33: A Table Of Sin
Chapter 33: A Table Of Sin
Perhaps! We are still young!
Perhaps! We are small!
Perhaps! In the eyes of adults, we remain children, and that is all we will ever be to them!
But a mind crowded with selfish interests is no mark of true maturity!
When we come together, when we unite, we are not small at all!
In time, adults will grow old, worn down by decay, by selfishness, by violence to the living world. All of it will end in the dustbin!
But we will not!
One day, we will be the masters of this city, and of this world!
Delyss!
Delyss!
Delyss!
The chant surged again and again, voices overlapping and rising in waves. The young students shouted together, faces flushed with excitement as the winter wind cut into their cheeks.
Delyss stepped back from the podium, offered a measured bow, and left the stage while the cheers continued. At the same time, two bodyguards moved to clear a path for her. Behind the curtain, she slipped into the back seat of a black Dixor, a vehicle known for its imposing presence.
Her female bodyguard draped a brown fox-fur coat over her shoulders. “Are you cold?”
Delyss glanced down at the fur, her gaze flat. “Change it.”
“Yes, Miss.” The brown coat was promptly removed and replaced with white fox fur. As the bodyguard adjusted it, she spoke quietly, “Mr. Orkan is hosting a banquet for Mr. Forde tonight. He requests your presence once you are finished here.”
“Mr. Forde?”
“The mayoral candidate of Roja City. Mr. Orkan is supporting him, hoping to help him unseat the incumbent mayor.”
“Alright.”
“You can rest for now. I will wake you when we arrive.”
Delyss closed her eyes. Twenty minutes later, the black Dixor rolled into the underground garage of the Roja Grand Hotel. She was woken gently and escorted out. They rode the elevator in silence. Soon, Delyss entered a private suite on the thirteenth floor.
“Well, well, our angel has arrived,” Orkan warmly greeted the girl with a raised glass. His broad shoulders shook with laughter. “Come, let us toast the angel of the green cause!”
“Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
There were five people at the table, Orkan included: Forde, the mayoral candidate; Humir, editor-in-chief of the Roja Daily; Harget, a senior councilor of Roja City; and Mr. Morf.
Mr. Morf was the head of Morf Consortium, a corporation founded in Roja that had since spread its influence across Swillen. Morf cigarettes had become the most popular brand in the city, and the Morf family also held significant investments in hospitals, operating a major medical chain throughout the country, as well as controlling shares in several of Roja City’s private clinics.
“Good evening,” Delyss said, offering the men a gentle smile. In this setting, she appeared deferential and obedient, a complete contrast to the leader who had stirred the crowd outside.
Orkan waved a hand, dismissing the girl. “Delyss, you must be tired. Go on and rest.”
She retreated to an adjoining room where tea and fruit had been prepared beside a warm bed. A man in red robes waited for her there, his face hidden behind a plain white mask.
Delyss slid her coat from her shoulders and fell onto the bed, her arms loose and open. The man sat down beside her and placed his hands against her temples, beginning a slow massage. “Tired?”
“Mmm.”
“I know you wish you did not have to exhaust yourself like this. The Berai Church requires your sacrifice, as does the God of Nature.”
“Mmm.”
“I don’t enjoy dealing with those people, either, but if the church is to grow, they are necessary.”
Delyss opened her eyes. A faint smile flickered at the corner of her mouth. “I know.”
***
Back at the table, Councilor Harget spoke first, “The protestors stormed the power plant this afternoon, causing the eastern district to lose electricity for several hours. The public will not be pleased.”
Orkan waved it off. “It can’t be helped; Young people get excited easily. Cheap tools always come with flaws. I’ve already handled it. They were merely some overenthusiastic students who went too far. Editor Humir, I trust the paper will keep this quiet.”
“That will not be a problem,” Humir replied smoothly. “We will frame it as an infrastructure failure, so that the blame will land on the mayor’s neglect, not the protest.”
Morf followed, “I’ll contact the other newspapers and radio stations. With the advertising money they receive from us, I doubt any of them will suddenly discover their principles.”
Orkan laughed and patted his stomach. He turned to Forde. “Look around you. Roja is already behind you. What could possibly stop your victory?”
Forde nodded, though his eyes betrayed a bit of lingering hesitation. “The industrial district remains loyal to the old mayor. He rose from among those workers. He’s always had their votes.”
“That is no longer your concern,” Orkan calmly corrected. “Time crushes rust and stubborn men alike. We already have a plan.”
He leaned forward. “The day after tomorrow, students from Roja’s universities, vocational schools, and colleges will mobilize. They will surround a number of government buildings, blockading entrances and stage sit-ins. The city’s administration will grind to a halt.”
Forde frowned. “University students are not children. They will not move so easily.”
“On the contrary,” Orkan said. “Their leaders have already agreed. Support the cause, and several universities in Veyn will immediately admit them. Who would refuse?”
“And after that?”
“That is only the prelude,” Orkan continued. “A lawsuit is coming. Factory workers with pneumoconiosis are suing management, but they will lose. When they do, they will protest. Ten more injured workers are ready. The union leaders are being handled.”
Forde still hesitated. “The old mayor will still be able to calm the workers.”
Orkan nodded in agreement. “Which is why, after he speaks and the crowds disperse, one family will take their own lives in despair.”
Forde stiffened. “Will they actually do that?”
“They will,” Orkan said coolly. “The father will poison himself, his mother will hang herself, and his wife will jump, while holding their child. Editor Humir believes this will be enough to ignite true outrage.”
Humir nodded. “The funeral will need to be modest; too grand, and it will backfire.”
“Exactly,” Orkan said. “Once the funeral begins, the district will burn. The old mayor will fall, and you will step in to calm the people. There will not even be an election, as he will resign.”
Privately, Orkan thought that even a pig could win at that point in time.
“Mr. Morf will provide supplies to protest groups,” Orkan continued. “So we must thank him again. To Mr. Morf!”
Forde raised his glass. “Thank you.”
Morf spoke before drinking. “Roja’s tobacco and medical device laws...”
“Rest assured,” Forde said solemnly. “Smokers deserve a choice, and medicine should remain competitive.”
“Good.”
“To our future mayor,” Orkan declared.
The banquet ended. Later, Orkan was alone when the masked man in red robes entered the room.
“A gathering of filth,” he remarked.
“And yet, in the eyes of the world, we represent light.”
“What a shame the Church of Light is long gone,” the robed man replied. “Otherwise, it would surely have taken you in.”
According to ancient myth, the God of Light had once “awakened” the God of Order. The fact that a true god of an orthodox church had once been woven into the mythic canon of another great faith was proof enough of how dominant the Church of Light had once been.
Yet a thousand years ago, a great calamity had struck. The Church of Light had suffered devastating losses and, under deliberate pressure and encroachment from rival churches, was gradually erased from history.
As for the particular nature of that catastrophe, some claimed it had been caused by the descent of a heretical god.
Orkan patted his belly and laughed. “Light is eternal, only that has just been converted into banknotes.”
He rose to his feet. “When the time comes, we will need your hand, Priest Alothar. The family we’ve chosen must die peacefully.”
“I understand.”
***
Reception room.
“This way.”
Piaget entered, and Alothar greeted him, “Praise Nature.”
“You can call me Piaget.”
Orkan soon joined the two men.
“I knew your wife,” he said. “Is she not here?”
“My wife passed away more than a month ago.”
“...” Orkan fell silent.
Priest Alothar placed both hands over his chest and spoke in a low, solemn voice, “She has returned to nature’s embrace.”
The awkward beginning made it so that Orkan could only sit in silence for a long stretch, merely listening as Piaget and Priest Alothar conversed. Orkan did not interrupt even once.
When the conversation finally drew to a close and Piaget prepared to leave, Orkan rose to his feet. “Mr. Piaget, shall I have my driver take you home?”
“No need. I drove myself.”
“I see. That’s good. Oh, by the way, Mr. Piaget, may I ask where your wife is buried? I would like to pay my respects.”
“Oakwood Cemetery, in the eastern district.”
“I know it well. One more thing, if you don’t mind. Was your wife’s funeral handled properly? I’m very sorry, but given that I never received word, I wasn’t able to attend. I truly regret it.”
Piaget looked at Orkan and evenly stated, “The followers of the Berai Church keep their funerals simple.”
“...” The brief silence was quickly smothered beneath the thick layers of flesh on Orkan’s face. He recovered almost immediately. “Of course, of course. What I meant is that I have an uncle living here in Roja City. He is currently at death’s door, and I wished to ask if you might know which funeral home in this city offers the most proper services. He raised me with great care, and I would like to give him a dignified farewell.”
“Your uncle has not yet passed?”
“Ah, not yet, but soon. Among us Veyn folk, certain matters are attended to in advance. It brings peace of mind to those nearing the end.”
“I understand. I hope your uncle recovers.”
“Thank you, truly.”
“As for funeral homes, I do know of one which is quite good, though it may not seem deserving of a man of your standing, Mr. Orkan.”
“No, no. My uncle is a man who prefers simplicity. He is practically half a follower of the Berai Church himself. What is the name?”
“Immers Funeral Home, on Mink Street.”
***
“May the merciful Lord guide her into His kingdom, where there is no sickness, no calamity, no suffering. May His light rest upon her, and upon us all.” Tiz, dressed in his priest’s robes, led the gathered family and friends in prayer.
Once the prayer ended, Paul and Ron picked up their shovels and began filling the grave, covering the coffin that lay within it. Later, flowers would be planted around the headstone.
The girl’s mother stepped up to Aunt Mary, thanking her again and again in a trembling voice. The father walked over to Uncle Mason and bowed low.
The funeral had been carried out with remarkable care, feeling measured and complete. The parents had attended other funerals before, and noticed the difference immediately, especially when they considered the price they were paying. This was the only way they could express their gratitude.
There was also that boy named Lent. During the wake, he had stood beside the parents for the entire day, bowing to every mourner who passed by to pay their respects.
When the salt was cast for the deceased, the boy broke down completely, sobbing until he could scarcely breathe.
Such a kind child.
Aunt Mary and Uncle Mason comforted the grieving parents while Karon went to help Tiz gather his things.
At that moment, a man in a black suit stepped forward. “Excuse me. Are you from Immers Funeral Home?”
Tiz pointed to Karon, picked up his scriptures, and walked away without ever speaking a single word. As a rule, he did not handle business matters.
Karon smiled politely. “Yes. How may I help you?”
Walk-in inquiries always put him at ease. They were far better, and far safer, than waiting on a bench outside an operating room.
“I’d like to ask about your service packages.”
“Of course.” Karon pulled out a brochure and a list of prices from his bag and handed them both over. “May I ask who the funeral is for?”
“It will be in a few days.”
“I hope you won’t need us.” A few days usually indicated the person was critically ill, and so it was a reply demanded by courtesy.
“No. We will need you.” The man paused, then asked, “Can your funeral home handle multiple people at once?”
“Could you be more specific?”
“If an entire family were to die in an accident, could you conduct a joint funeral? Have you done that before?”
“We have.” Karon was not entirely sure.
“I see. Then I’d like to reserve a general time frame in advance. Is that possible?”
An entire family. A vague date. A reservation.
“Yes,” Karon replied. “But a deposit would be required.”
“That’s fine. Money isn’t the issue. What matters is the service. This is the ninth, so we would like to reserve four days, from the fourteenth to the seventeenth. During that time, I don’t want your funeral home making any other arrangements. Just tell me the required deposit.”
“No problem,” Karon said. Those days were still free.
“Good. Then we’ll sign the agreement shortly.”
“That’s fine. However, I am curious; Has the family already passed?”
If there was an illness, it made no sense for an entire family to be dying at once.
“They’re very close.” The man shrugged lightly and smiled. “Close enough to leave together.”