The Blind Bandit - A Divine Apostasy Short Story

The Blind Bandit

a Divine Apostasy Short Story

Bliz narrowed his eyes and for the first time, doubt surfaced. The Blind Bandit had never remained hidden for so long, and Bliz wondered if his luck had finally run out.

The choices before him were grim and encountering the Blind Bandit now would have catastrophic consequences. He thought of his wife and wondered if she had prepared for his defeat.

Bliz shook his head. Thinking of family would only distract him. With everything on the line, he needed to focus.

The surroundings had become eerily quiet, confirming the danger Bliz found himself in. He considered the decisions that had brought him here and wondered if this time, he’d made a terrible mistake. As the final moves in this contest wound down to a single loser, Bliz feared it might finally be his turn to face the ultimate consequence.

Bliz had searched for the Blind Bandit in its most common hideouts, but this time, his opponent had outsmarted him. Bliz desperately searched for the pattern that must exist, some clue to help him understand what he’d missed.

Bliz wiped his brow, sweat beading across it like dew on a cold morning. He couldn’t remember the last time his choice meant so much. The pressure felt unbearable, like he might die, the Blind Bandit’s final victim.

“It’s a drinking game,” Tora said from the chair next to him. “Not nap time, old man. Are you too drunk to remember it’s your turn?”

Bliz glanced at his debuffs.

Intoxication (Level Three): +10 Strength, -15 Wisdom

Greater Vertigo: -50% Attack, Mind Resistance -75%

Bliz looked around the hushed bar, hundreds of eyes eagerly awaiting his next choice. Smooth stone walls and oak pillars made the Dizzy Judge a sturdy bar, able to withstand large and rowdy crowds. Vents in the ceilings and walls circulated stale air out, replacing it with fresh air. He had designed the system himself and paid an Air Mage to construct the flows.

Tora pointed at the thumb-sized statue of an infant that sat on the oak table in front of Bliz. “You should use your Wailer.”

A drunk Healer in the front row raised his tankard. “I’ll clear your debuffs!”

Bliz smiled at the wobbling Priest. “Thank you, friend. But that would break the rules.”

Tora and the other Bands had used their Cure Poison items long ago. Bliz covered the token with his hand and opened the minimized notification that appeared.

Tring!

The Dizzy Judge has loaned you…

Name: Wailing Baby of Shame

Quality: Uncommon

Charges: 5

Durability: 8 of 10

Weight: 0.5 lbs.

Effect (Triggered): Pushing down on the baby’s head will Cure Poison at 100% effectiveness against level 1 poisons. Effectiveness decreases by 20% per poison level increase.

Description: Two-inch statue of a vomiting baby. Go drink a bottle of milk, quitter.

“I don’t have any debuffs and would hate to waste a charge,” Bliz said.

Tora shook her head. “Liar.” A moment later she continued. “There has to be a time limit or something?” she asked, gently rocking her full tankard.

Bliz concentrated on the young women until they all resolved into just one figure. She was the newest Band, and on leave from Deepwell’s primary terium mine. The tall thin woman wore the standard brown Worker clothes they all wore, and they matched her hair, which she had tied into a ponytail.

“Are you in a rush to lose?” Bliz asked.

Tora shrugged. “I just figured everyone was getting thirsty.”

The crowd erupted with cheering and yelling. Bliz raised his arms to quiet them but quickly stopped as it made his dizziness worse.

Bliz glanced at the other four Bands at the table. They had already passed out and would need another Cure Poison and probably a Lesser Heal to rejoin the game.

Tora eyed Bliz suspiciously. “Are you delaying to trick me into thinking you don’t have the Bandit?”

A valid strategy and one Bliz had used often when the bartender dropped the bandit into Bliz’s Void Band.

But this time, he didn’t have the Bandit, and he’d thought Tora didn’t either. But now he wondered if she’d manipulated him somehow.

“Flip my wagon,” Bliz muttered. He should have stopped drinking an hour ago, he thought, as he took a sip of cider.

Spiced Void Cider was a Dizzy Judge favorite, and one of the personal recipes Bliz had created in his youth as he crossed the continent on his own. People came all the way from Stone Harbor to try it.

Bliz visualized Tora’s Inventory and ran thorough the choices he’d made on her Void Band, along with the ones the other Bands had made. He studied the mental ten-by-one-hundred grid, and even this drunk, his high Intelligence, a prerequisite for the Void Band, made the task simple. Well, not simple, but doable.

Tora probably had her Void Band arranged differently than a ten-by-one-hundred grid, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was if she had the bandit, and if so, in what Inventory location.

The mental grid fell apart in Bliz’s head, and feeling a little reckless, like the man he’d been four hundred years ago, he sat up straight.

The crowd’s murmuring quieted. The vast majority of those that frequented the Dizzy Judge were Workers like Bliz. They were the backbone of Uru’s Realm, the most common Class by far, and the most looked down on.

Void Band wearers were different, though. Their high Intelligence made them rare. The vast majority of high Intelligent Ascendants came out of the temple tubs as Mages. It took a special kind of stupid to choose this life and the risks of the Void Band.

Bliz’s Void Band had killed him three times. Or, rather, his poor planning and choices had led to his Void Band killing him. Each death came with a staggering loss of six Attribute points. The first two deaths had some justification, but the last one had combined poor judgment and alcohol and resulted in a reward of five symbols that still held no meaning for him.

Tora rested her head on the table and fake-snored loudly.

“Okay, okay, I’m almost ready,” Bliz said.

Tora raised her head and rested it in her palm, waiting.

If Bliz’s memory served him right, four sections of Tora’s Inventory remained hidden still. Each slot choice a participant made also included the twenty-five Inventory positions on each side.

Bliz glanced over at the Grid Manager. They kept track of the sections chosen in each of the six Bands’ Inventories. If Bliz picked an inventory slot already uncovered in a previous choice, he’d have to drink an entire tankard of spiced void cider as a penalty. And that might increase his alcohol poisoning to level four.

“Six hundred seventy-eight,” Bliz said.

The crowd all turned to the Grid Manager as Bliz and Tora locked gazes.

After a few seconds the reply came. “Valid.”

The shouting started as bets were made on the contents of Tora’s Inventory slot. Bliz could chance a choice of his own as well. If he guessed one of the six choices correctly, Tora would be penalized with three long drinks. If he guessed wrong, he would take a single penalty one.

Bliz took a sip of his cider and considered. Tora was the newest Band, and only raised ten years ago. She took the Void Band despite Bliz’s warnings on how High Priest Fusil had chained them all to Deepwell. The priest had gone mad with power, demanding they all stay within Uru’s Blessing and rotate as glorified mules for Deepwell’s mine.

Bliz saw the logic of using the Void Band’s one hundred percent weight reduction for transporting the precious terium, but it should be the Worker’s choice, not a requirement. The priest had turned wearing a Void Band into something akin to handcuffs.

What would a baby Band who had only worked in the Deepwell mine carry in such a high Inventory slot? Bands had a thousand slots, far more than the average dimensional bag everyone else received.

Tora had high Intelligence, obviously, so she would have planned for Blind Bandit. Bliz didn’t like being predictable but drinking games in the Dizzy Judge were a given, and she would have prepared. She likely didn’t have enough personal items to fill many of her slots, which meant this one was either empty or something common at the mine.

“Are you seriously going to guess?” Tora asked. “Another penalty drink will put you under.”

Bliz smiled and pointed to Tora’s tankard. All the Bands had their own mug at the Dizzy Judge. But the youngest Band’s mug held twice as many ounces. Poor Tora had suffered that cup for longer than any Band, but she bore the responsibility well. Bliz really liked the young woman.

Bliz held up a finger for each choice as he spoke. “You’ve had eight choices on your Band. Four inorganic, one personal, one dangerous, and two organic, but not a single empty slot or piece of gear.”

The high likelihood of inorganics in Tora’s Inventory made that choice a safe one. She was young, and only had her Band ten years. High Priest Fusil had kept her tethered to the mine, and the poor girl had never even left Uru’s Blessing. She didn’t yet know the exhilaration and fear of no longer being synched to your goddess. Of knowing a death meant losing all the experience and memories since the last backup.

Either Tora had emptied her Band and filled it with rocks, or she had moved her personal items to unlikely Inventory slots. And the bigger question. Did she have the Bandit?

“Gear,” Bliz said, and the bar exploded with conversations. Bets were claimed and new ones made.

Tora smiled and moved her right arm toward the center of the table. She waited until all the wagers had finished and the bar quieted again.

What looked like an inch wide black tattoo wrapped around Tora’s left wrist like a bracelet. It slowly opened until a dark oval two feet across appeared. Now came the moment of revelation. Would the Blind Band appear, handing Bliz his first loss in forever, or something else?

After a dramatic pause, a three-foot rod dropped to the table. It had small protrusions, buttons, and sliders covering it.

Cheering and groans filled the bar and Bliz grinned. He picked up what everyone called a Worker’s Baton, but its true name was the Baton of a Thousand Uses. He slid his thumb across a protrusion three inches from the top. The baton lengthened another two feet and a shovel appeared on the other end.

Bliz studied the shovel and then faced Tora. “Shame on you, Tora. What kind of Worker has a spade in such pristine condition? Have you ever even used this?”

More laughter and jeering erupted from the crowd.

Tora sighed. “Some of us haven’t dug as many holes as you Crew Chief. But my brothers and sisters of the Lodge will certainly agree, a smart Worker always uses Dig.”

The laughter increased and many heckled Bliz.

Bliz stood and took a moment to regain his balance as a Blackout debuff flashed for a moment next to his Intoxication and Greater Vertigo ones. He held his tankard high. “Tora is right. The soft handed Workers who speced in Dig deserve recognition for their avoidance of hard work. I’ll drink to the fools who use shovels more chipped than their teeth.”

Tora laughed as yells filled the bar.

Bliz pointed at Tora’s tankard, twice the size of everyone else’s. “I hope you’re thirsty.”

Tora used Retrieve to pull the Worker’s Baton to her hand, barely catching the tool as it flew through the air. She tried to touch the button to withdraw the shovel, but her finger slipped, and she turned the baton into a pick. Trying again she created a rake and then saw.

Bliz shouted into the crowd. “Is there anyone here who knows how this thing works?”

The laughter turned deafening and Tora, her cheeks bright red, laughed as well. Tears streaked her cheeks and she waved at Bliz, gasping out a single word. “Stop.”

Bliz expelled his Worker’s Baton from his Void Band with one Energy per second. It shot out of his Void Band and he almost missed grabbing it, causing more laughter. He held the baton high, and every Worker present removed theirs as well. It was standard gear given to every new Worker after their Ascendancy.

“We are the hands of Uru, bless her name,” Bliz said, his voice serious.

“Bless our hands,” the crowd said in unison.

Bliz smiled. “A free round for everyone to celebrate Tora using her baton for the first time.”

Shouts of joy mingled with laughter and Tora convulsed with laughter again.

Bliz dropped the baton into his Void Band and sat hard, almost falling off the chair.

Tora recovered enough to start her three penalty drinks. Bliz hoped when she eventually finished the forty ounces of Void Cider, she would finally trigger a Blackout debuff. The other four Void Bands had passed out already and that would leave Bliz the victor.

By the time the free round had been distributed to everyone, Tora finished. She looked terrible and Bliz admired the woman’s tolerance. She must have been practicing up there at the mine.

Tora looked around at the older Void Bands who had passed out. She turned to Bliz. “If you don’t have the Bandit we are going to pass out as fools.”

Bliz grinned and parsed her words. She had spoken as if she didn’t have the Blind Bandit and assumed Bliz did. His muddled mind couldn’t sense the truth and he wondered how high Tora’s Charisma had gotten. Was she influencing him?

Tora held up her arm and wobbled on her seat. The bar quieted. She let her arm drop and pointed at Bliz. “I choose, Bliz.”

The crowd cheered and Tora closed her eyes. Probably trying to recreate the previous choices in her mind and all the overlaps they created.

The prerequisites for a Void Band were simple. The Ascendancy must result in a Class of Worker and the new Worker’s base Intelligence must be at least fifteen. Since the vast majority of high Intelligence Ascendants became Mages, and the few who became Workers usually picked the safer House Administration Specialization, there were very few Bands.

No one dreamed of being a glorified pack mule, but the Void Band had many advantages, like far more storage than everyone else’s simple dimensional bags. In addition, the Band had a one hundred percent weight reduction, no limits on the contents, and the ability to launch things from your Inventory using Energy.

The danger of course was the chance of death. Opening the Band or firing things out of it cost Energy. And if the Energy bar dropped to zero with the Void Band open, it caused instant death and a weeklong revival at the nearest Temple of Uru. That had happened to Bliz twice.

The third time the Void Band had killed Bliz, his Energy bar had remained full. Really that death should be blamed on his curiosity, and maybe Uru. She had created the Void Band’s description, after all, so really, she deserved some of the blame. Bliz would have never—

Tora opened her eyes and spoke, interrupting Bliz’s thoughts. “Nine hundred forty-eight.”

Everyone looked at the Grid Manager and a moment later he spoke. “Valid.”

Bliz glanced at the time above his map, shocked again at the game’s almost three hour length. He moved his focus to the bottom right corner and opened the person-shaped icon that allowed him access to his Inventory.

Bliz quickly moved to the nine hundreds which usually held rare plants. But for the Blind Bandit he always scrambled his Inventory. Nine forty-eight held something special and brought back great memories. His wife would be upset when he revealed the contents, though, as damaging bar property made her angry.

Shouting erupted as the crowd begged Tora to guess the Inventory slot type. Everyone knew Bliz had the best things in his Band.

“Fine!” Tora shouted. “But a Healer better fix my liver for free. A sober one!” she added.

Shouts of free Heals filled the bar and Tora narrowed her eyes at Bliz as she considered her choices.

Bliz wasn’t the oldest Band, but he had traveled the farthest. Much of the excitement around Blind Bandit was seeing what came out of Bliz’s Inventory and the stories surrounding it. In the past month he’d revealed snow from the peaks of the Desolate Mountains, water-chestnuts from the bottom of the Frigid Sea, a plant that ate insects, a two-hundred-foot idlewood tree, and a carnage golem from the god Izac’s capital of Malth.

The two-hundred-foot tree had destroyed an entire wall, and injured six patrons, when it had exited Bliz’s Void Band. Thankfully his wife had already left the Dizzy Judge and enough Workers remained sober to repair the wall in record time. The injuries weren’t life threatening and most Workers took the spell Massage, a heal-over-time spell, and in less than thirty minutes, everything appeared normal again.

Bliz refocused on the present. The crowd shouted suggestions at Tora, but she stayed focused on him. She couldn’t afford to be wrong in her current state.

After a few seconds she sighed and raised her hands as if giving in to the obvious. “Dangerous.”

The crowd roared and Bliz looked shocked. He raised his arm and pointed to the Void Band.  “You think I’d keep something dangerous in here?”

“Hypothetically!” The crowd said as one.

Bliz laughed at hearing his usual disclaimer shouted in the bar. He stood slowly and placed his wrist over the center of the table. He waited for the betting to stop and then he looked at the bar and found his beautiful wife. Their eyes met and he mouthed one word to her. “Sorry.”

Then Bliz tried his best to squeeze a tiny drop from the hundreds of thousands of gallons he kept in that Inventory slot.

A blob of red-hot lava the size of a thumbnail struck the table. The smell of sulfur filled the room and then smoke as the lava burned through the oak table.

The crowd went wild chanting “lava” over and over. It was a crowd favorite but far from the most dangerous thing Bliz’s Void Band held.

Tora looked relieved, having guessed the contents correctly and she pointed to Bliz’s tankard. “Drink up, Lava Boy.”

Bliz usually told a short story with his more interesting items, but he was far too drunk tonight. He heard others in the crowd telling the younger Workers the tales for him. Most of these people would never reach level ten or leave Deepwell. The death penalty for revival was too steep for most people to stomach.

Bliz only needed to take three penalty drinks but raised his half-empty tankard and drained the contents in one go. He sat the cup down as his vision disappeared. A Blind debuff flashed and after three seconds disappeared, replaced by a Nausea debuff. He couldn’t keep this up much longer and the ruined table would only make his wife angrier. Being married to the bar owner only protected him so much.

The room went silent and Bliz turned carefully to see why. A small woman had entered the bar and stood just inside the doorway. Her high Charisma hit his drunk mind like a punch to the nose. Why was Big D here?

Pit Boss Durn, known just as Big D, led the Worker’s Lodge and was the highest-ranking Worker in Deepwell. She stood on her tippy toes and looked around. “Are there any Workers here tonight?”

The crowd cheered and after a moment Big D raised her hand. The crowd immediately quieted. “We are the hands of Uru,” she said into the silence.

“Blessed be our hands,” the crowd responded.

“The next round is on the Lodge!” Big D shouted.

The crowd erupted again and Big D locked eyes with Bliz. The message was clear. She wanted to talk to him. Big D turned toward the bar and waved at Bliz’s wife who strode around the counter to hug the Pit Boss.

Bliz turned back to Tora with a groan. How could such a small woman cause so much stress?

Tora raised an eyebrow at Bliz. Big D rarely left the Worker’s Lodge and Tora was smart enough to know that meant trouble for Bliz.

A proactive Air Mage forced the smoke from the smoldering table out the open door and the normal smells of sweat and hard work returned.

With Big D here, Bliz needed to wrap this game up. It was a shame really. Tora wouldn’t have lasted much longer. But there were more important things than his pride, and as competitive as he could be, he also recognized a good exit. And if anyone deserved some success, Tora did.

Bliz grabbed an empty bowl from the passed-out Band to his left and raised it above his head. He needed to start the process of sobering up. “Ahvy! Clusters!”

A young blonde-haired woman watching from the bar turned, scooped an empty bowl into a small bucket, filling it with clusters, and flicked it at Bliz without looking. The bowl spun thirty feet through the air and landed perfectly in the bowl Bliz held.

The crowd chanted. “Shooters. Shooters. Shooters.”

Bliz smiled as he sat the bowl on the table and took a handful of the roasted nuts. Ahvy held the Crew Lead position for Deepwell’s best Shooter team. She had Sub-Classed as a Laborer and Specialized as a Handler, making her aim perfect. Her team could load a moving wagon as it passed the warehouse or pack a Band with enough equipment to field an army in just minutes. Ahvy was the only person in Deepwell as accurate with a bandball as Bliz.

Bliz pictured a two-dimensional grid ten-by-one hundred and overlaid all the choices made tonight. There were still three significant gaps and Bliz knew this game could continue for another hour.

But Bliz didn’t have an hour. Big D wanted to talk and that probably meant trouble for him. He liked to face these things head on and didn’t want to delay by continuing with the game. Plus, as soon as he reached level four Intoxication there was a fifty percent chance he’d pass out. For a variety of reasons, Bliz needed to end this now.

Bliz now believed that Tora held the Blind Bandit. If she didn’t, she would have likely mentioned quitting when the other four had passed out. That she couldn’t offer that suggestion pointed to her almost certainly having the Bandit and he should have seen that earlier.

Bliz overlaid the items Tora had been forced to reveal. The Worker’s Baton, six small stones, a stack of jerky and pants.

Again, no pattern jumped out at Bliz. Wondering if the young Band had visualized her Inventory in three dimensions, he rearranged his mental picture into a ten-by-ten-by-ten cube.

The alcohol slowed Bliz’s mind, and he forced himself to concentrate. Utilizing his exceptional Intelligence for something other than causing trouble he formed the mental structure. The cube materialized and an instant later, Bliz realized where the Blind Bandit likely hid.

Seeing Tora’s Inventory like this Bliz could see how she’d arranged it. Only playing for a decade made Tora new to Blind Bandit and she’d made a rookie mistake. Instead of scrambling her Inventory randomly, she’d just pushed her first set of ten-by-ten slots back three layers and placed stones to fill the gaps.

Bliz considered Tora and what thought process she would use for the Blind Bandit. With only three areas still masked in her inventory, it made the process vastly easier.

Tora remained a kid, probably not even thirty yet. She had spent her whole life near Deepwell and more recently in the terium mine. She would consider the safest place likely the bottom of the mine, near the center.

If Bliz pictured Tora’s Inventory like a cube shaped mine, that meant the bottom would translate to four hundred ninety-five.

Bliz whistled at how close Jasper had come to finding the Bandit. The lower end of his choice had ended at four hundred ninety-six.

Tora tapped her head. “Whistling to yourself is a sure sign your orchard is rotten.”

Bliz let the overlay dissolve and refocused on Tora. “The only thing rotten here are your Blind Bandit skills.”

Tora leaned back as the bar either shouted support or disagreement with Bliz. “And yet here I sit. You going to choose sometime tonight?”

“I already have,” Bliz said.

“Then let’s have it.”

The bar silenced as Bliz leaned forward. He picked up the Cure Poison item and walked the baby statue around the table in front of him.

“Here is a poem Baby Band. ‘Five to the right, and ten below, it’s black as night, for Tora’s fellow. Five quick hops to find our winner, to finish the game, and eat some dinner.’”

Tora went still as she realized Bliz had given her the exact coordinates to her Blind Bandit location. Her reaction confirmed his analysis and he pointed at Tora. “I choose Tora.”

Bliz waited for the sound to die down and then shouted. “Four hundred ninety-five!”

A moment later the Grid Master spoke. “Valid!”

Tora hung her head and Bliz hid a smile. Not only had she lost, but it would be a spectacular loss. All Bliz needed to do was pick “Bandit”, an almost unheard-of choice. It meant Bliz would forfeit the twenty-five slots on each side, but if the location he chose contained the Bandit, he won, and the loser had to drink ten tankards. That would certainly push Tora into a coma.

Tora raised her head as the crowd frantically bet on the contents of slot four hundred ninety-five. She smiled ruefully as she locked gazes with Bliz.

When the betting finished Bliz spoke again. “I guess…” Bliz paused and then winked at Tora. “Dangerous.”

Tora looked confused and stared at Bliz.

Bliz yelled to the crowd. “I think the alcohol has made her deaf.”

The crowd laughed and Tora shook her head, grinning. She slowly placed her hand over the table and after a three second pause, dropped the contents.

A thumb-sized stuffed toy panda fell onto the table. The Blind Bandit had finally revealed himself. For a moment the bar remained dead silent, and then it erupted in a thunderous roar.

Shouts of “He lost, he lost, he finally lost,” filled the room.

Bliz stood and the crowd quieted. He held up his tankard. “To Tora, the new Blind Bandit Queen. May her reign be long and her guesses true.” Bliz waited for Tora’s name to stop being chanted. He looked down at the blushing young woman. “If you don’t mind, I’ll drink my penalty tankards at the bar.”

“You want some help?” Tora asked. “I should be the one drinking them.”

Bliz waved his arm and almost tipped himself over. An Unstable debuff appeared but thankfully for only a few seconds. “No, no. You played amazing.” Bliz pointed to the four passed out Bands. “You outlasted these old appahs. That justifies your victory.”

“Thanks Crew Chief, you’re the best.”

Bliz clinked his mug against Tora’s. “Good job, kid.”

Tora stood and the crowd enveloped her, celebrating her win against the old Bands. Bliz turned and saw his wife.

Bliz shouted into the bar. “Do we have any Talkers here? I can’t read my wife’s expression.”

Loud laughter reverberated in the bar, and someone shouted. “You don’t need Hey You to understand that, Bliz. You’re in trouble!”

Bliz groaned loudly and stumbled toward the bar and the Workers around him chuckled.

Bliz sat down heavily next to Big D and immediately started to fall to the right. She grabbed him and kept him level until he got his arms on the bar.

“Thanks,” Bliz said.

“You’re not three hundred anymore, Crew Chief,” Big D said.

Five full tankards slammed into the bar in front of Bliz and he looked up into the face of his true love, Maygy. She had bunched her long black hair into a large bun and her blue eyes narrowed at him as she frowned.

“I must be bad luck,” Big D said. “I heard you never lose at Blind Bandit.”

“Shade’s first rule, luck is a blade with no handle,” Maygy said. “And Bliz only loses when he wants to.”

“Sorry about the table, love,” Bliz said.

Maygy shook her head. “Pace yourself on these penalty drinks. I’d help you drink them, but—“

“I know, I know, I only have myself to blame.”

Maygy leaned over the bar, and Bliz kissed her. As she left, she shouted over her shoulder. “I’ll put the ruined table on your tab.”

Bliz groaned and arranged his tankard and the five new ones into a hexagon.

“I might need to call in sick tomorrow,” Bliz said.

“Funny you should say that. Tomorrow is why I stopped by.”

Bliz sipped from his original tankard and winced. “That’s not a good start.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t actually need to work. Uru forbid you Bands actually do something.”

Bliz held up his wrist. “We carry this country.”

“Then why are you discouraging our brightest from taking a Band?”

Bliz looked at Big D and then quickly away as her Charisma struck him. “I don’t discourage them. And you know why.” Bliz turned and pointed at the celebrating Tora. “We have Tora.”

“Ten years ago. And we’ve had two candidates since. Both ended up in Household Administration.”

“Well, that’s where the money is. Bands aren’t for everyone.”

“I know,” Big D said. “I just want to make sure this isn’t because of High Priest Fusil.”

Bliz shrugged. “That piece of Order garbage treats us like terium wagons. His rules forcing us to remain within Uru’s Blessing are counter to Uru’s teachings.”

“Now you’re a Priest?”

“I act more like one than half the Priests in the temple.”

Big D raised her hands. “I’m not here to get you riled up with politics. I need a favor.”

That got Bliz’s attention. “You, need a favor?”

“We both know we can’t do everything alone. And if I want Workers to ever get treated equally with the other Classes, I need to work differently.”

“You know I support that.”

“This favor is about something else.”

“You already know I’ll help. Why are you running around the wagon?”

Big D rubbed her right palm. “I have it on good authority you’ll be getting a new Worker tomorrow.”

Bliz shook his head. “I’m not that drunk. We don’t have any Workers coming out of the tubs for another four days.”

“I know. All the same, expect one.”

“When was his Ascendancy Day? Is he coming from the Stone Harbor Temple?”

“No, he will Ascend here.”

Bliz laughed. “You mean he has Ascended here?”

Big D looked serious. “No. His Ascendancy is tomorrow.”

“What?” Bliz hissed. “That’s impossible. The quickest revive I’ve ever heard of took five days.”

Big D rubbed her palm again. “And yet I believe tomorrow it will happen much faster.”

Bliz drained his drink and placed it back into the hexagon. He pulled a full one to him. “And you don’t want me to rant about Fusil or the corruption or how the Void Bands have become shackles.”

“Something like that. It’s actually really important for all of us that he takes the Band.”

Bliz risked another look at Big D and locked gazes with her. “You want me to encourage him to get a Band?”

Big D shrugged. “I don’t tell my Workers how to do their jobs. Everyone else does that enough. All I’m saying is, if we ever want to change the status quo for all of us, if we want to make things better for Workers, that child needs a Void Band.”

Bliz sighed. “Fine, Yasmine, I’ll stay neutral. But I still need to be honest with the kid.”

“I know. Thanks, Bliz. I really appreciate you,” Big D said as she slid off her chair.

Bliz smiled. “If you really do appreciate me, you could join us here tomorrow night for some drinking games.”

Big D groaned and looked upward. “I knew there would be a steep cost.” She walked away and spoke over her shoulder. “Tomorrow night is bad as I have an excursion to plan. But I’ll make good on the drinking game.”

Bliz grinned and took another sip of Void Cider. After a moment he yelled at Big D. “What’s the kid’s name?”

Big D stopped and turned. With a serious face she responded, her voice not loud enough to overcome the noise of the bar. It didn’t matter though, as Bliz’s Hey You ability had enough levels to read lips.

“Ruwen Starfield,” Big D said.

Then Big D turned and strode away, disappearing through the door and into the night.

Bliz considered tomorrow’s ridiculous timeline for this new Worker’s Ascendancy. A revival that Big D somehow knew about before it happened. Maybe the old lady had finally lost it.

Bliz raised his mug and muttered to himself. “To the impossible Ruwen Starfield. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The End