Seth was having a terrible day, and so he reasoned he was having exactly the kind of day that he deserved. The stern and contemptuous expression of the Senior Acolyte in front of him was all that Seth needed to see to know how the conversation would end. Seth had come to this place seeking wisdom, purpose, and most of all, honor, but it was now clear to him that he would be leaving only with embarrassment and shame. Just like every other place his life had taken him.

The old man in front of Seth hardly moved at all beneath the thick, billowing white and gold robes that he wore. Seth considered this to be quite a testament to the man’s self-control considering how hot the day was becoming. The roof of the building in which Seth stood had disappeared more than a hundred years ago, and the light of the noonday sun grew hot on his light brown hair. If the heat or sunlight bothered the Senior Acolyte sitting in front of Seth, he gave no indication of it.

“Seth,” the old man said in a tone that sounded both bored and disgusted at the same time, “do you know precisely what you did wrong today? And don’t try to say, ‘everything.’ That answer may be correct, but it will not satisfy me.”

“Well, Senior Acolyte Pokriz,” Seth said in a low voice, “I believe I know what I did that has made you so angry.”

“I’ll remind you that in this sanctuary I am known as ‘Honorable Senior Acolyte Pokriz,’ Seth,” said the old man. “Of course, that’s an easy mistake to make for one as new to our sanctuary as you are. I assume it is also because of your inexperience that you fail to realize that one in a position such as myself does not become angry. So I will ask you again, do you know what you did wrong today? I expect a yes or no answer.”

Seth knew exactly what the man wanted to hear. He wanted Seth to tell him what he had done that had gotten him in trouble with the acolytes. But the Senior Acolyte hadn’t asked if he knew what he had done to get in trouble. He had asked if he knew what he had done wrong. Since Seth believed he had done nothing wrong, he could not give the old man the answer that he wanted without lying.

Seth stood quietly under the bright sunlight, trying to choose his response. He did not want any more humiliation or disgrace. He had come to this island for the very opposite. If he just told the Senior Acolyte what he wanted to hear, he might be able to get away with some demerits and a mild reprimand. If he told the truth, he would most likely be cast out by the end of the day. Seth gripped the intricately carved shillelagh in his right hand. As his finger passed over the notch on the walking stick left by his father, Seth knew it was never really a choice at all. He would speak nothing but the truth, come fire or flood.

“My patience is growing thin,” said the Honorable Senior Acolyte Pokriz. “Can you tell me what you did wrong?” He was now sitting forward in his high-backed chair. The chair itself was accented with gold paint, and attached to the back were two large wings made of wire and white goose feathers. Seth had thought that the man and his chair looked quite imposing the first time he had seen them a month ago, but now he began to see clearly. The gold paint was flaking off of the chair and feathers were falling out of the wings. The Senior Acolyte’s robes had looked grand and regal from a distance, but up close Seth could see that they were becoming threadbare and torn around the edges, and the insides of the collar and sleeves were filthy.

“No,” said Seth, raising his head. “I cannot tell you what I did wrong today.”

Senior Acolyte Pokriz frowned deeper than before. “That’s most disappointing, young man,” said Pokriz. “Despite your many other shortcomings, I was at least hoping to hear the truth from you. Very well, I shall read the accusations from the Junior Acolytes’ report.” The old man clapped his hands and a balding man came out from behind one of the nearby columns. The man was wearing robes similar in appearance to the Senior Acolyte’s, but less ornate.

The man handed a piece of parchment to Pokriz and bowed very low. “Here is our report, Most Honorable Senior Acolyte Pokriz,” said the man.

“Thank you, Junior Acolyte Lyktar,” said Pokriz, waiving a hand at the man. “That will be all.” Pokriz flattened and straightened the report several times until it seemed smoothed to his satisfaction. Seth had learned in the three weeks he had spent at the sanctuary that Pokriz was not fond of any wrinkles or blemishes on any object handed to him.

Pokriz picked up the report and addressed Seth in a grave tone, though he did not take his eyes off of the parchment. “Seth, you have been accused of blatant transgressions against The Devout Acolyte Brotherhood of the Celestial Guardians and the Sanctuary of Skatterr. Your association with our most elite brotherhood stands in jeopardy of termination and you will be forthwith banished from our midst unless you can answer these accusations to our satisfaction. Do you understand this, Seth?”

“Yes,” said Seth, staring straight ahead at the Senior Acolyte. “I understand.”

Pokriz kept his eyes fixed on the paper in front of him, not acknowledging Seth’s gaze. “Since you have refused to voluntarily confess your wrongdoings, I will read the accusations, and you will be given the opportunity to deny any which have been falsely brought against you. Silence will be considered a lack of denial and therefore an admission of accusation. Any attempts at deceit are forbidden, as you are reminded that you are standing in the once and future home of the most exalted and enduring of the original Immortals of this world, the glorious Celestial Guardians. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Seth. “I understand.”

“Seth,” said Pokriz, with interest creeping into his voice for the first time, “you stand accused of obstructing two junior acolytes, your superiors in this brotherhood, in their efforts to uphold the honor of the brotherhood and subdue a violent enemy of the Celestial Guardians. Do you deny this?”

Seth thought back to that morning when he and the two junior acolytes had encountered the “enemy” that Pokriz mentioned. He was an old man that many on the island called “Tipsy,” and Seth had met him before. From the large dent in Tipsy’s forehead, Seth had assumed the man was a former soldier with a wound that never healed properly. He was called Tipsy because most days he spent his time traveling back and forth across the main streets with a crooked walk that almost look like an off-rhythm dance, but this morning he hadn’t been dancing. He had been screaming at the clouds and anyone passing by about his dead wife and son, and how he had cried to all of the Immortals to save them, but none of them had answered him. Tipsy said they were worthless and false and dead.

When the two junior acolytes that Seth was with had heard the old man’s ranting, they cornered him and insisted that he must be mistaken in railing against all of the Immortals since that would include the most glorious Celestial Guardians. One of the junior acolytes had grabbed Tipsy’s arm and suggested he revise his statement. Tipsy had responded by stepping on the junior acolyte’s foot and spitting on his robes. Apparently that was enough to be considered “a violent enemy of the Celestial Guardians.”

When the two junior acolytes had first started beating the man, Seth couldn’t figure out what was going on. Though little was known about the ancient Immortals known as the Celestial Guardians, it was widely accepted that when they did roam the world of mortals long ago, they had been charged with the protection of the weak and oppressed. Why would the acolytes of the Celestial Guardians be beating a defenseless old man? Seth had wondered if perhaps Tipsy possessed some dangerous dark magic that the acolytes knew about that he did not.

As Seth saw Tipsy crouch on the ground with his arms trying to shield his head from the acolytes’ blows, he knew that there was no wicked magic at play, only wicked fools. Seth had used his shillelagh to strike the two acolytes from behind, drawing their attention and allowing Tipsy a chance to slip away.

“What is wrong with you?” one of the junior acolytes had yelled at Seth. “You were permitted to leave the sanctuary to assist us in our duties, not thwart them. Now that maniac has escaped, and will probably respect the glorious Celestial Guardians even less.”

“The old man is confused and overcome with grief,” Seth had said. “If he had spit on the Guardians themselves, they would still not have wanted brutality like that.”

“Do not presume that you know the will of the most glorious Celestial Guardians better than we,” the other junior acolyte had said. “Do not forget that you are still merely a novice acolyte, and by the time we’ve told the Senior Acolyte Pokriz about this, I expect you won’t even be that.”

Seth was pulled from his memories by the annoyed voice of Pokriz. “I will remind you only once that silence will be considered an admission of guilt,” said the Senior Acolyte. “Do you deny this accusation, Seth?”

“No,” said Seth. “I do not deny it.”

Pokriz cleared his throat and continued to read the report. “You also stand accused,” he said, “of defiling the consecrated robe of Skatterr that was entrusted to you. Do you deny this?”

Seth remembered how he had wandered the streets of the island for a time that day after the junior acolytes had run off to report his earlier transgression against the honor of the brotherhood. As he had walked along the streets, a cold breeze had blown in off the nearby sea and sent a shiver across Seth’s body. He had pulled tight around him the novice’s robe that he had woven a month ago in the sanctuary. Many of the acolytes had sneered at Seth for making the robe too thick, but he had been glad that morning for its warmth and protection from the cold salty air.

As he had walked and huddled his robe, Seth looked down a small alley between two houses and saw a little girl. The girl was dressed in dirty rags and was holding her hands close to the open window of a house, trying to feel some of the warm air from the fireplace without being seen by the occupants inside. The alley provided her some protection from the wind, but her thin arms and legs were totally exposed, and she was shivering.

Seth had walked over to the girl as quietly as possible to avoid drawing any attention, removed his robe, and draped it around the girl. The little girl had seemed frightened at first, but after Seth had produced a small biscuit from one of his pouches and offered it to the girl, she had rewarded him with a bright smile and a tight hug. Snuggled up on the ground inside the thick wool robe, the little girl had soon fallen asleep, with Seth sitting nearby and keeping watch.

Not long after, one of the junior acolytes had found Seth in the alley. A look of shock and disgust had crossed the acolyte’s face when he saw Seth’s robe covering the dirty little girl. “Novice Acolyte Seth, come with me at once,” he had said with upturned nose. “Honorable Senior Acolyte Pokriz has summoned you back to the sanctuary. But first, collect your robe. It’s getting filthy.”

“Keep your voice down,” Seth had said. “I’m coming.”

“And your robe?” the acolyte had asked.

“I think it’s doing more good where it is right now,” Seth had replied.

“It’s forbidden!” the acolyte had said indignantly. “I realize now that you may not care about the brotherhood after all, but we take these things very seriously.”

“Well,” Seth had said, “it just so happens that I take orphans shivering on the streets very seriously.”

Seth cleared his throat before responding to the man in front of him. “No, Honorable Senior Acolyte Pokriz,” said Seth. “I do not deny it.”

Pokriz put the report down on the desk in front of him. “Well then,” said the Senior Acolyte, “it seems there is just one accusation left to bring against you. I asked you only moments ago if you were aware of what you had done wrong today, and you replied that you did not. And yet, you have denied neither of the very grievous accusations brought against you. I can therefore only assume that you are also guilty of lying to a Senior Acolyte within the walls of the Sanctuary of Skatterr. Do you deny this?”

“Yes,” Seth said boldly, “I do deny it. I have spoken nothing but truth since I arrived on this island, and I will continue to speak nothing but the truth, even if you will not hear it.”

“I’ve had enough of this!” hissed Pokriz, losing the temper that he claimed not to have in the first place. “You betrayed the brotherhood for a lunatic, defiled your robe, and now you even lie in the house of the most glorious of Immortals. Have you no shame? Just who do you think you are?!”

“I know exactly who I am,” said Seth, walking forward to the acolyte’s desk. Seth raised his shillelagh and Pokriz ducked under his arms as if he were afraid that Seth would strike him. “You see this?” he said. “The entire history of my fathers is carved on this walking stick, all the way down to me. You want to know who I am? I am Seth the Fourth, son of Seth the Liar, son of Seth the Thief, son of Seth the Traitor. There’s nothing you can tell me about my shame. I carry it in my hands everywhere I go.”

***

Seth walked along the beach of the island, watching the sunset and feeling very foolish and sore. Apparently the junior acolytes had considered it bad manners for a guest to raise his voice at their Senior Honorable Noble Whatever-Title-He-Had-Made-Up-For-Himself. They especially didn’t like the fact that when they had entered the room, Seth had appeared to be brandishing a weapon at the old man. Their fists had requested that he and his face leave immediately, and their boots made sure that his backside had understood the message as well.

As Seth continued to walk along the sand, he realized that while he was embarrassed to be expelled from another group of devotees of the Immortals, what he really felt foolish about was that he had expected anything else. Whether he was trying to find a higher purpose at the School of Caster, the Library of Destiny, or the Stronghold of Sentinel, Seth found that he never found belonging, nor did he ever feel closer to fulfilling his mission to restore the honor of his fathers.

Seth had reasoned that perhaps it was because Caster, Destiny, Sentinel, and most of the other well-known Immortals were the second generation of Immortals. Since the Celestial Guardians were the only First Immortals not overthrown at the end of the First Age, Seth had hoped that by traveling to this island and joining the acolytes, he might finally come closer to the great purpose he was seeking. But the acolyte’s devotion to the Immortals they claimed to revere was even more hollow than the others had been. He was lost and out of ideas.

Seth sat down on the sandy beach and felt a chill blow in from the sea. He looked up at the sky and watched the stars begin to appear one by one above him. While still looking up at the stars, Seth began to speak aloud. “It was said that at one time the Immortals had grown so powerful they could hear the cries of every mortal on the face of Reulla. And that they were so gallant they would answer those cries when the mortals needed them most. So why don’t they answer anymore? Have Caster and his subjects finally forgotten what it’s like to be mortal, and so stopped caring to help us as well?”

Seth’s words hung in the silence of the increasingly chilly air. As the beach continued to darken, Seth got up and began walking once again. A moment later, he let out a yelp as he stubbed his toe on something hard in front of him. He reached down and was able to just make out the form of a rusty old lantern. Seth determined it must have washed to shore after falling off one of the ships that regularly came and went from the island. As Seth’s toe throbbed, the feeling of foolishness returned and the threw the lantern down the beach.

Seth was mildly surprised when he didn’t hear the lantern hit the sand. He was much more surprised as he saw a light in the direction where he had thrown it, and saw that the light was coming from the lantern, which was now level with his face and coming closer to him.

Squinting his eyes against the bright light in the darkness, Seth could see a figure holding the lantern, with two other figures following behind. As the three figures drew near, Seth realized that it was Tipsy holding the lantern, with the little girl wearing Seth’s robe on one side, and Senior Acolyte Pokriz on the other side.

Seth was bewildered to see these three individuals in front of him together. “Sorry Tipsy,” Seth said, trying to shield his eyes from the blinding light. “I didn’t realize that was your lamp. I hope I didn’t damage it.”

“Why did you show me compassion when it would have been easier to join your comrades?” asked Tipsy. The old man’s voice was deep and sounded nothing like the ranting tone that Seth had heard earlier that morning.

“What?” asked Seth, not sure he had heard the question correctly.

“Why did you do it?” the old man asked again.

“Because,” said Seth, “it was the right thing to do.”

“Why did you show me kindness and give me your robe?” asked the little girl. Her voice was that of a child, but she sounded older and more confident than any child he had ever met. Certainly more than the scared little girl he had met in the alley that day. “Nobody else knew I was there. It would have been easier to just keep walking by.” Seth didn’t know what was happening, but he had the distinct impression that he was being tested.

“Because it was the right thing to do,” said Seth.

“Why did you tell me the truth when you knew your honesty would get you banished?” asked Pokriz. Gone was the tone of boredom and contempt. His voice was now penetrating and rich. “If you had told me what I wanted to hear, I might have let you stay.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Seth replied.

Tipsy held the lantern a little higher and the light shone right in Seth’s face. “And do you always do the right thing?” the old man asked.

“No, I don’t,” replied Seth. “But I try to.”

“That will do,” said the little girl.

At that moment, Seth saw all three of them waver and disappear while the light in the lantern became so bright that Seth could see nothing else. Even the sand beneath his feet and the great sea to his right seemed to fade into white as the unearthly light blinded him.

“What’s going on?” shouted Seth. “Who are you?”

In response, Seth heard a voice all around him. “Even if I told you my name, you would not know it,” said the voice. “There are none left on this world, my world, who know me or my magic.” As the light intensified, Seth fell to his knees.

“But I want you to change that,” said the voice. “I have a job for you, Seth.”

Seth
Art by Ryan Salway