Chương 35: Chapter-35

Belief in the faith of Vorulsht, long seen as the god of death, monsters, the underworld, and spirits, experienced a significant resurgence following the Great Culling, which followed the apparent abdication of the lich Tal the Risen's imperial throne. After months of silence, one tenth of one percent of the adult population between the ages of sixteen and thirty five was selected. Millions of men and women died between one breath and the next, their eyes burning and their minds destroyed, utterly.

And far worse, they were warned. The young people of the generation had grown up under the threat of Lottery. They were not used to such high odds of selection, however. Millions of corpses joined the ranks, shambling off to the beaches where they were loaded into boats, filing in neat, orderly ranks hundreds deep. The people of Elup were terrified of their undead overlord. And so they flocked to the one deity who had not abandoned them. Vorulsht, who had spoken to a child.

Jerup the Mapfinder's blessing spread far and wide. The people of the surface, many of them undecided on which deity they feared more, explored the entrances to the underworld. And they found vast underground cities at the bottom of deep caverns. Cities with magic, where water flowed from taps, and spirits appeared to give instructions. Cities where food—tasteless but palatable—was aplenty and nobody was selected by Lottery to die. Not everyone made the migration.

Those who did not, however, made note of the nearest entrance to the underworld. They were prepared to flee for their lives if the undead came calling. Just in case. They were foolish to wait so long. * I created a base state. A basic copy of myself, which recalled everything up to my conversation with my father following my abdication. And from this instance on, I allowed myself to be in many places at once. I allowed myself to diverge. I allowed myself to create new spirits which would have different memories.

I split myself tens, hundreds, thousands of times as I undertook the task my father had set for me. I required new hosts. I took new hosts. I made the process as painless as I could make it. I saw no reason to be cruel. I made the process as fair as I could make it. I saw no reason to do otherwise. And once I committed to the process, I could not make it stop. Once I began spreading copies of my soul across Elup, I would not stop my reign of terror until I had saved humanity from the death of a star.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. *"What do you think? Should we? We'd be giving up everything we have here," Urstin's wife asked.

"I'm tired of the Lottery, Wenna. I'm tired of wars. I've been through too many Lotteries and too many wars, and it looks like we're about to have more of both," he said.

"Please. Will you at least consider it? I don't want our children to grow up under the fear of this cursed place any longer. Let's at least try living underground. If it doesn't work out, if it's worse than up here, we can always come back, right?" She hesitated. They were in their cottage, talking over the table. Their children were listening, silent. Ever since the unscheduled lottery, everything had been different. Then a raven flew in through the open window.

It flared it's wings as it came to a stop, and Urstin smelled the scent of rotting flesh. It had the mark of Tal upon it, and immediately the temperature in the room dropped. Literally. The corpse-bird looked at Urstin.

"You were a soldier. Name and Rank?"

"Private first class Urstin Nobody," Urstin said.

"Honorably discharged at the end of the unification wars. Your Lordship."

"I have visited you recently. You were selected by Lottery, but passed over. I see why now."

"Veterans are immune to the lottery."

"I did not check the lists of veterans before this lottery. My other self was in error. You should have been selected, but he saw the wound you suffered in the previous war. He interpreted that wound and the residue spirits of death upon you and determined that you should be immune to his selection. He was in error." Urstin blinked.

"What?"

"I am tracing the version of my spirit that visited this town. I have a message for him. When I saw that you were marked, I came to investigate. He has tagged you as previously selected, but inappropriate for his use. I have use of you." Urstin closed his eyes.

"I knew this day would come. Ever since I drew the yellow stone I knew it. Okay. I'm ready. Please, just make it quick, like you did for Bolen." The bird cocked its head to the side.

"You drew a yellow stone?"

"Yes. I suppose it doesn't matter now. Where I used to live, my name was Perith. I drew a yellow stone on my first Lottery day, but they said it was a mistake. Said there wasn't supposed to be a stone in the urn for fifteen year olds, so they weren't going to drown me. But they made me join the army instead." It cocked its head to the other side.

"Was this practice common?"

"I thought it was."

"It is unfair. The process was meant to be fair to everyone involved. The risk of selecting a yellow stone should have been distributed evenly, but these people violated that principle. Why?" Urstin thought about the answer for a moment.

"I can't say exactly, but I was very grateful for the extra years I got out of it. Nobody wants to die young. And nobody wants to die on their first Lottery day. I guess they figured they'd fix the odds for the younger ones and increase the risk a bit for the older ones not because it was fair, but because it was unfair."

"That is unjust."

"Probably, but injustice doesn't seem unjust when it's in your favor. That's why I never said anything. Well, only once. I kept what I thought I knew a secret until I was proven wrong. I don't know why they saved me back then. But I'm grateful for the extra years I've had because of it. Can I just hug my family before you take me?"

"That is an acceptable delay." He hugged his family, taking his time. They were crying. He was not. He'd faced death in the tent where they'd stuffed his intestines back into his stomach. He should have died then. Almost did. He should have already been dead three years before that. Instead, he had so much. He was so grateful. After he had set his little son down, he patted the boy on the head. The poor kid didn't have any idea what was about to happen.

"Can we do this outside? I'd rather that my family doesn't see me die." The bird flew up and landed on his shoulder.

"You shall go where I tell you and do as I tell you to do. Go and saddle the horse that is in the stable." Urstin blinked in surprise, but obeyed. He looked back as he left the house one last time, thinking he'd never see his family again. Then he went and saddled a horse, expecting to die at any second.

"Ride the horse eight miles northeast. When you find the army, wait for further instructions." Urstin blinked.

"You're not about to kill me for my body?"

"I need living servants as well. You will serve until you are dead or no longer useful." A flicker of hope.

"What happens when I cease being useful? Will you kill me then?"

"That depends on whether your corpse will be more useful to my purpose than allowing you to return to your family and grow food," the bird answered.

"Now go. You will serve the version of me that is assembling the army." The raven flew off. And Urstin rode to follow it's commands.