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Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 8.1, The Great Illusion

Brother Rhys was led by the Bishop through the huge collection of Wyranese tents. With the battle line far behind them, the Priest knew he was wholly at the mercy of the invaders... assuming, of course, they were willing to break from the Bishop's decree for a ceasing of hostilities. Thankfully, as he glanced around at the numerous warriors essentially ignoring the Rat, that didn't appear to be the case.

Apparently noticing Brother Rhys' concern, Bishop Fulgaré rested a talon on the Priest's shoulder. "These men are here only because I gave a blessing for this fool's errand... they would not dare oppose my word."

That realization brought a number of questions to Brother Rhys' mind, but the most obvious inquiry was the one that made it out of his mouth. "Why would you allow them to do this?"

The Bishop sighed, strolling through the military camp with the Rat by his side. "Truth be told, Brother Rhys, I did not have the foresight to realize just how far the Duke's lust for power would take him, and my desire to travel to Lehsunia under the pretext of spiritual guidance blinded me to seeing just how far he would go to get what he desires."

Brother Rhys hesitated with the next question, but his curiosity ultimately won out. "What DOES he want?'

The Dragon smiled in an almost apologetic manner. "What most men with power and wealth desire: more of it."

They walked for a time in silence, until Bishop Fulgaré showed him to a large but simple pavilion. It was certainly not what Brother Rhys expected for a Bishop's accommodations and so, he realized, it must have been a meeting tent of some sort. When the Dragon pulled aside the flap and motioned him in, however, the Rat saw something that looked more like an inn room. It WAS a personal space and, though it was adorned with all the necessities it did not hold anything the Priest would have labeled as particularly luxurious.

Brother Rhys stood at the entryway for a time. He didn't realize just how long he had been idle there until Bishop Fulgaré chuckled, and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "You have my permission to enter my apartment, Brother Rhys... there is no need to linger."

The Priest stepped in, and to the side, allowing the large Dragon entry as well. He waited until the Bishop had closed the flap before he spoke up. "The men of Wyra don't travel in luxury, do they? This doesn't look like the kind of accommodations a Bishop warrants, your Excellency."

The Dragon laughed, "Perhaps."

Bishop Fulgaré took a seat on the ground, crossing his legs in front of him. He aimed his muzzle toward a pit full of wood and a single breath later a small, crackling campfire bathed the interior with dancing light. "Oh... the men offered me a much finer pavillion, but it was entirely unnecessary. These are precisely the kind of accommodations I asked for."

Brother Rhys sat down facing the Dragon, imitating the posture with which the Bishop sat. "I was always under the impression that most Bishops traveled in carriages, staying in grand, Church endorsed tabernacles, eating the finest foods that--"

The Bishop smiled, holding out two apples. They were a bright yellow and had the scent of being just-a-little-too-ripe; Brother Rhys noticed that one had a slight bruise on its side. The Dragon gave the Rat the un-bruised one. "You are very correct, Brother Rhys... MOST Bishops DO prefer unabashed opulence."

The Priest looked at the two apples, and reluctently accepted the one offered to him: the better of the two. Brother Rhys had heard of men like the Bishop. There was a movement among some of the faithful who chose a simple life over an extravagant one. He attempted to remember the right term for it. "Are you... an Objetionist?"

Bishop Fulgaré let out a sigh, his smile disappearing in the span of the breath. He shook his head slowly before speaking. "Ah... what the world has come to when everyone expects the Church to seek the entitlement its clergy have fought so hard to deem theirs by right."

Brother Rhys cleared his throat uncomfortably. He had heard of Objectionists and, every now and again there would be a rumor of one coming and going, but his experience had always been that they arose from the lower level members of the Church. To think that a BISHOP was one seemed almost impossible. "So... you ARE an Objectionist."

The Bishop stuck a single claw into the side of his apple and held it over the small fire with a bare talon, completely unharmed by the flame. "No, Brother Rhys... sadly, I am an aging traditionalist whose world views are so antiquated that they simply SEEM new."

The Rat's ears lowered, "I... I'm afraid I don't understand, your Excellency."

The Dragon continued watching the apple in the flames. "Why is it that the Church is entitled to everything it requires, Brother Rhys?"

It was a very fundamental question, and one that was well known to all Priests. "The Church is the voice of God in the mortal realm... a doorway to the divine. People give freely to the Church so that God's will may be manifest in our deeds."

Bishop Fulgaré withdrew the apple from the fire and began to carve it with a claw. "The Church, my dear Brother Rhys, is entitled to everything it requires because it says it is, and people take that statement as the word of God."

The Rat paused at the comment. "It is though... isn't it?"

The Dragon shook his head calmly. "Mortals are, by nature, prone to self-interest and, while I believe in the depth of my soul that the vast majority of those in the House of God are as virtuous and as righteous as they should be, it takes only one small smudge before something is no longer perfect."

Brother Rhys was confused by what he was hearing. It made sense on many levels, but it was unlike anything else he had ever heard preached by the clergy. "But... God's Word is perfect. It is our duty to--"

Bishop Fulgaré held up a talon to quiet him. "The Church is an imperfect window to a perfect being, my friend. Just like any window, what lays beyond may appear to be something completely different if the glass is marred... and the Church has had quite some time in which to become unclean. There has been a divide in the Church for some time between differing views, and that strife had resulted in an unclear message being sent to the masses."

The Rat looked down at the apple he held, turning it around in his paws so he could focus on something other than the disturbing words of the Dragon. "How did that get us to this point, your Excellency?"

The Bishop's smile returned, but with a hint of pain to it. "I cannot speak for the Church as a whole, but I am here because a dispatched a Monk to Lehsunia to learn about the Church's dealings here. It has, unfortunately, been drifting further and further from the True Word for the past decade."

Brother Rhys was surprised by that admission; envoys from Bishops were usually announced, and he had heard no word of any Monks visiting on behalf of the Church. A different question entered the Rat's mind, however. "If you sent a Monk, why did you come yourself?

The Dragon finished segmenting his apple and popped one of the pieces into his maw. He chewed carefully before speaking. "I joined Duke O'Dell because I felt it important to see Lehsunia for myself... and because Friar Juun, my emissary caught sight of a True Dragon on the road."

The Priest paused at that; True Dragons were nothing particularly impressive to the Church; it was populated with them. "Why is a True Dragon on the road anything special?"

Bishop Fulgaré set down the rest of his seared apple. "Because they do not exist."

The Rat froze, studying the unreadable expression on the Dragon's face, trying to figure out if there was humor behind the comment or if the Bishop was being figurative. In the end, he side-stepped the obvious comment that Brother Rhys was sitting right next to a True Dragon-- that Bishop Fulgaré WAS a True Dragon, to choose a slightly different line of conversation. "Why would that Dragon be of interest then? Was he a Heretic?"

"Perhaps... Friar Juun DID say that Hunters were after him, and that he was saved by a group of Tribal warriors led by a Wolf that claimed to be Prince Malcom."

Suddenly things clicked, and the Priest's ears raised. "So... you came with Lord O'Dell in the hopes that you would have a chance to speak with Prince Malcom..."

Before the Bishop had a chance to respond, the flap to the tent was moved aside and a Wyranese soldier poked his head in; the Otter looked particularly young, or perhaps his helmet was just too large. "Your Excellency... Duke O'Dell sends for you."

Taking in a deep breath, Bishop Fulgaré nodded. "Thank you. Please tell the Duke that I will meet with him once I return Brother Rhys to his friends."

The Otter cleared his throat, obviously fighting with a degree of uncertainty when it came to disagreeing. "The Duke said that it is urgent... we are... expected to leave the beach before sundown."

Brother Rhys did a double-take; the Wyranese were leaving? Was the battle really over? The Bishop didn't seem phased in the least. "Very well. Then tell him to meet me here at this tent and I will speak with him when I return."

The messenger was even more ill-at-ease. "The Duke is waiting for you now... your Excellency."

The Rat felt more than ever that he was being an imposition. "I... should be able to find my own way back, Bishop Fulgaré. I wouldn't want to keep you from--"

The Dragon held up a talon to silence him. "Nonsense. Given my choices, I believe it will do well for Duke O'Dell to wait... he badly needs this lesson in Humility."

The Otter shifted his weight uncomfortably. "And what should I say to Duke O'Dell?"

The Dragon pulled a small, perfectly sculpted metallic bird out of one of his robe's pockets. As Brother Rhys watched, Bishop Fulgaré gently exhaled onto it and, before the Rat's eyes, the bird 'awoke', chirping and flittering in the Dragon's talon. "Here... he can speak to me through this, but he will otherwise have to wait for my arrival."

The Rat was dumbstruck. "You... are a Techlar?"

The Bishop smiled. "Not in as many words but, yes. I suppose you could say that I know of their craft... and it brings me a certain degree of joy."

Brother Rhys bowed his head. "Of course, your Excellency... Dragons alone have the right to bask in the divine aura of Pride."

Chuckling, Bishop Fulgaré banished the Otter with the wave of a talon before he stood up. He moved toward the flap in the tent and held it open for the Rat, but not before commenting quietly. "Truth be told, that is a right Dragons exercise far too often."

Rhys honestly didn't know how to respond to that comment.