Bad Apples
Time stamp: Sentinel Island Camp
"Is it true?" Till blurted out before he could stop himself. "That the natives practice magik and offend the gods?"
"If you are referring to the Odsier tribe, yes..." she said softly. "Yes. I'm afraid so, my dear, Till. Does that trouble you?"
Till frowned. He had not thought about that way before. It had been more curiosity that made him speak. Magik had been pretty much extinct in Helias, with a few odd occassions serious enough to be worthy of the Inquisition's involvement. But he guessed if he thought about it or did bother him. "It does." He said truthfully. "The pillars teach us to raise arms against the maleficium..." He made the sign the waves as if warding any evil he could attract by uttering the word.
"The very practice of witchcraft is an offense to the gods and the Inquisition. I do not yet know of the natives of Sentinel Island but we know for certain that the Odsier tribe practices Oneiromancy. I have witnessed that firsthand, and their people do not see this witchcraft as an offense, for they know naught of our Gods. What is more, they admitted to the practice of communing with the dead."
"What's Oneiromancy? Till asks with a confused look on his face.
"Dream magik. They use dreams to divine the future. It is unclear to me how much they know of the people of Helias but they knew of my coming to this land... dreaming of it before it happened... knowing that I can spell their doom. Even with this foresight they allowed me to come into their camp, live amongst them and move about freely with their people... That is the part that temporarily stays my hand."
The Arbiter had been meditating over the past few days, interpreting her experiences. The tribe, the lands of Arcadia, the Beleia, and the unfamiliar ship; to her these were omens. Perhaps a warning. This new place, the people, and the creatures. It was all a great, uncertain danger that must be handled with caution. She felt it was just to deliver her own warning like that of the rattler before striking.
Her eyes looked off into the sky then, as if talking to herself or speaking her thoughts aloud, "Now... I find myself tasked with bringing down unto their witches the wrath of the Gods... regardless of their unknowing transgressions... which is why I bear a great pain on this part of my journey of faith. Their witches did me no harm or offense and I feel I must know more about them and their god Erewhon. Before I can bring myself to strike them down with the holy sword, it is only right that THEY learn more about OUR Gods. Therefore, if I can, I must first embody the Revelation of the Pillars to the uneducated tribes of Arcadia before I become their Reckoning. I go carefully forward... ready for war."
Till nodded, moved but also confused by Voah's words. He wasn't sure how one taught religion to witches. ~Do my prophets no harm and suffer not the witch to live.~ was the maxim everyone in Helias had lived with for centuries. What the Arbiter was talking about was... difficult to grasp for one such as him. He did not have the words or knowledge to debate her. But it seemed to him one did not teach fish how to stop swimming. He dropped a few cubes of stock into the hot water and waited for it to melt glad for her company.
She sensed the confusion in Till’s silence. She took a minute to think about her words and taking out a skin full of mulled cider she took a draught.
“Make no mistake… We must determine whether the rotten fruit has spoiled the basket. Salvage what we can before we dispose of the whole?” she offered the ciderskin to Till. “Even so… a rotten apple has its purpose.”