The Non-Human Society

Chapter Seventy Six – Vim – The Chronicler



Closing the door behind me, I studied the woman who was standing before the chronicler’s desk.

Renn still had her hat on, and her tail was still hidden in her pants… which was a little surprising. Maybe she was simply used to wearing and hiding them, to the point of not even noticing anymore. When she had first joined me, she seemed to try and pull them out the first chance she got.

The little stoat noticed me and released a happy sound. It hopped away from the chronicler and onto the desk.

Walking to the desk, I watched Renn as she turned and studied the little animal. It had stood up at the desk’s edge, making little chirps at me.

Holding my hand out, I let the stoat leap onto me. It hurriedly climbed up my arm and started to nuzzle my neck. “Well? Do I get to kill her?” I asked.

Renn, who had been happily smiling while watching the little stoat, instantly lost her smile and started glaring at me.

“Renn is a fine addition. I look forward to what she accomplishes,” the Chronicler said.

“Hmph,” I smirked at the woman who looked scorned, and after a moment she smiled back. She realized I had just been teasing.

I had known that answer already after all.

Not because I could hear into this room, at least not when that door was shut… but because I had already known what kind of person she was.

Young in certain ways. Confident and brazen in some… meek in others. Yet her heart was in the right place. There was still a few… lessons she needed to learn, but that was for her to do on her own, later. Over the course of years… without me.

“Welcome back Vim,” the chronicler chose to change the conversation into a more normal one.

I nodded as I reached up to pet the little stoat. It made little purrs into my ear as I scratched its stomach. “Sit,” I told Renn.

She blinked at me, but then nodded. She sat back down dutifully, and I turned to look at the nearby shelf. The one right behind the desk near the fireplace.

I didn’t see any new books or letters upon it.

“I have a few things to tell you,” I told her.

“A village lost. A painting burned… and a dead god,” the old woman smirked as she spoke. She wasn’t amused to see my reaction, but the girl’s in the seat. Renn’s hat had moved violently enough to make noise as she looked at her.

“The foxen village near Snowfall is no more. A bishop gave the order, though I’m not sure which one,” I told her.

The Chronicler took a deep breath, it sounded labored and painful. The little stoat instantly stopped purring and focused on her, going still.

“Such a waste,” she said softly.

“Hm. Ruvindale’s incident was… not necessarily related to our Society. At least I don’t believe it was. Lughes had failed to make tax payments. I don’t know who survived or who didn’t,” I said honestly.

Renn shifted in her seat, but I ignored her. I watched as the chronicler turned a few pages in her massive book, and then reached for the quill that sat in a fist sized glass bottle of ink. She picked the quill up, tapped it on the glass, and then went to writing my news.

“And the survivor of the fox village?” the chronicler asked.

“Lomi. A young girl… I don’t remember her parent’s names. Her sister had been Pronda,” I said.

“Priscella and Keither,” Renn said.

The chronicler nodded. “A young couple themselves. How disastrous,” the chronicler spoke slowly as she wrote just as carefully.

“I took her to Porka in Twin Hills. They accepted her,” I said.

Renn nodded with a happy smile, excitedly agreeing with me.

Giving the old woman time to write what she’s been told so far, I tried to think of the rest of my journey. After leaving her last time I headed northward, along the center path. I had originally planned to head eastward from the fox village, and then farther north and back down the coastline. Events had changed that path.

“After leaving here last time I had also met with Oplar. After that is when the Monarch happened,” I said.

“Oplar told me of that,” the chronicler said, letting me know I didn’t need to go into detail about it.

Renn glanced at me, but I ignored her.

The stoat chirped in my ear and rounded my neck, to my other shoulder. I went still, and positioned my left arm to let it easily clamber down it and to the chair. Renn sat up straight, and smiled in glee as the little animal went to nuzzling into her hands.

“Everyone else I met along the north-eastern path was fine. As much as they can be, at least,” I said.

I wouldn’t mention that I worried over Kaley, or that Bordu near Twin Hills had become so proselytized. It’d only get marked into the archive as me being a complainer, after all.

Even if my warnings and complaints always ended up proving true.

“Hard news, but not all bad. A survivor. The Sleepy Artist isn’t lost just yet, at least not officially… A dead Monarch… and a new member. All things considered, a good few years,” the chronicler said.

Renn’s petting of the stoat slowed as she glanced at me, but I ignored her. The artist wasn’t lost yet, she said… that meant she saw someone.

But who? My money was on Shelldon, but…

But no one liked him. The coward was hated by most the society… even her… so maybe…

Choosing to let it be, since she hadn’t told me, I nodded. “If you wish to look at it that way, sure,” I said.

“I look at everything exactly the way I should,” she said with a huff as she put one last dot on whatever she had written. She signed it, and then put the quill back into the ink.

“Who did you hold, child? In Ruvindale?” the chronicle then asked her.

“Hold…?” Renn hesitated, and I could tell by her glance at me that she had interpreted her words as something a little risqué.

“In their last moments,” the chronicler clarified, unperturbed by Renn’s misunderstanding.

“Oh. Amber…” Renn whispered her answer.

“So, so, so sad…” the chronicler shook her head, and I knew it was because she was seeing the emotions Renn held. Not just here and now, but in that very moment.

If her eyes still worked, she’d probably be crying.

“It was,” Renn agreed.

Studying Renn, I was surprised to see she didn’t break down and start crying too. But she was staring into the chronicler’s eyes, as if transfixed.

Had the chronicler already explained her condition? Her abilities?

No… maybe not…

After all Renn seemed to believe in magic.

Maybe she thought that was what this was. What she was.

It would explain her being seemingly comfortable with talking to someone who knew things she shouldn’t know. Though… there was also a chance that these two had a very serious conversation before I had entered. Who knows what had been said then.

Looking away from Renn, I found the chronicler staring at me.

I held her gaze, and for the tiniest moment saw the blue eyes that used to be there. Those beautiful jewels that used to shine as they listened to my stories were gone, but she remained.

“You look well Vim,” she said.

“Do I? I’ve felt tired recently,” I admitted.

Ignoring Renn’s glance, I nodded as I shifted a shoulder. It felt stiff… even though it wasn’t. My body never hurt anymore. Even when it should.

“You should rest,” the chronicler said.

“Funny,” I feigned a single brisk laugh… it sounded stupid.

“I can be, sometimes,” the chronicler said.

“Hm… Any requests for me?” I asked. None were there on the shelf, but you never knew.

“None as of late. Maybe a good thing, considering the war,” she said.

“Is it getting bad?” I asked.

“You’ll need to talk to Link about that,” the chronicler waved my question away.

I nodded, I had expected that. She knew everything about the Society, but cared nothing for the events of humans.

“Has anyone showed up since I left?” I asked her.

“The typical suspects… the most interesting, other than Oplar’s story of course, were the geese,” the chronicler said.

“Them? I met them in Trimme not too long ago,” I said. Why was their visit interesting? That meeting had been uneventful. No one had gotten hurt… no one had any requests of me…

“They said you were a very upset man, they did,” the chronicler said.

“Had I been?” I asked everyone in the room.

Only the little stoat answered, with a small chirp.

“He gets grouchy sometimes,” Renn nodded to the little stoat as she squeezed its face.

It didn’t complain, and instead purred louder… but I knew that was because it was simply agreeing with her statement, not because it enjoyed the petting that much.

“Grouchy,” I stated, and wondered if I should get so. I mean if it happened sometimes… this was a time. And it would be for some time.

The chronicler chuckled as she sat back, resting against her chair. It creaked in complaint. “She should meet Hands,” she then said.

“She can do so. I plan on leaving shortly,” I said.

Renn startled, causing the stoat to startle as well… and even the chronicler looked at me with a sudden intensity.

“What…?” I asked them all. What had I said? If there was no one here to see me, and no requests or letters… then I should get back to my path… right?

“Stay for the new year’s festival,” the chronicler then said, right before Renn could say something.

I glanced at Renn, who shut her mouth shut with the sound of teeth. She looked away from me, and it was obvious she was upset.

Was it the new year already…? I suppose it were.

“I should be on my way, I’m already behind schedule a little,” I said.

“You will stay.”

The chronicler’s matter of fact tone told me I would neither win, nor wanted to.

Maybe something was going to happen.

“So be it,” I said.

“And you will go meet hands,” the chronicler said with a point to Renn.

“Hands…?” Renn looked at me again, this time a little more confident with herself.

“The clock-maker. I’ll take you to him later,” I said. Maybe that was the reason the chronicler wanted me to stay. Maybe he’d say something to her that I needed to hear.

“Okay…” Renn nodded, but I could tell she still had many questions. I didn’t blame her, I had some too.

“Anyone staying at the house?” I asked the old woman.

“Just you two,” she said plainly.

I nodded and sighed. Sometimes I hated how definite her words were. It made me want to defy them, since they bordered on the divine.

The little stoat made a sound, and then jumped off Renn’s lap. It ran around the chair about half-way, and then darted under one of the nearby shelves.

Renn tilted her head at it, and I knew she was worried she had done something to annoy it… but she hadn’t. It had simply run off to be where it needed to be.

“Now go. We shall talk after mass tomorrow, I must prepare myself,” the chronicler then decided to end our conversation.

Shaking my head at her, I gestured for Renn to get up and follow me.

Renn looked from me, to the old woman behind the desk… then to the little animal that had disappeared under the shelf. “Um… it was a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Renn said.

“You may call me The Chronicler. We’ll speak again tomorrow,” the chronicler stated flatly.

Renn nodded with a flinch. I’d have to tell her later that she meant no ill-will with her curt words… she was just… old. Too old to be anything else.

“Let’s go,” I told her.

Stepping away, I headed for the door. Renn followed quickly, but not before bowing her head one last time to the old woman.

Leaving the archive, I made sure to shut the door right after Renn stepped out… so she’d not see the old woman begin to grieve and sob.

She couldn’t cry anymore. But her heart still wept.

And I knew no matter how old she got… she’d always still be that little girl. That little orphan who’d cry over the death of a sick plant, let alone people. Let alone those she loved and called family. Let alone friends she had written letters to for over half a millennia.

I guided Renn away from the door, and pointed down the hallway. Towards the other end of the Cathedral. “This way,” I said.

“She was… one of us right?” Renn asked softly.

“Of course,” I said.

“Hm… she sounded like she was going to cry. At the end,” she said, even softer.

“Your ears work a little too well, I think,” I said.

She tilted her head, and I knew it was because she was moving her ears under her hat. “I’m sorry,” she apologized.

“I meant that as a compliment.”

“Oh.”

Rounding a corner, I pointed at a new hallway. One that had open windows, with large iron bars on them.

Renn followed dutifully, and I wondered if this really was going to be the place she’d call home.

A part of me had hoped she would just… stay here… but…

She had not liked Telmik. I didn’t know if it was the number of people, or something else… but she had looked rather frail while walking through the city. As if she was suddenly stressed.

If not for the fact that I knew without a doubt she’d never been here before, I’d have worried that she had feared meeting someone here. Or had seen someone she had recognized… but she had calmed down and grew happy again once we entered the Cathedral.

Maybe she was just… a little more religious than I had thought.

“You feeling better?” I asked her. Dared to.

“Hm? Yes. I’m sorry… I had uh… not liked all the noise,” she looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed.

Oh…? Was that the reason? Because it had been loud?

Telmik was loud. It was the capital. A major trade hub. People came from thousands of leagues away to come here, for business and pleasure. For religious reasons alone half a million visited a year on pilgrimages. And that number grew each year.

“I see,” I said as I looked away from her. I didn’t want to stare at that weird shameful smile on her face. It made me want to take her somewhere else, out of concern.

I couldn’t afford that.

I had a whole society to worry about… I couldn’t waste my pity and concern on just one single member.

“So... we'll be able to see this festival right? Is it a big one?” Renn asked, and I noted she sounded a little excited. Too excited for someone who had nearly fainted from the crowds earlier.

“It’s the new year. I hadn’t realized it. This festival is one of giving. A religious type of festival, after the winter harvest,” I explained.

“Hm…”

“You may not like it. It will make the town very… busy… and in fact is probably why it’s as busy as it is,” I said, realizing it. It had been a little too crowded.

“Oh was that why?” she asked.

I nodded as we rounded a corner, and I saw the entrance to our destination.

“This is one of the mansions that belong to the Society. The north you’d call them a way station. Here mansio, and in the east you’d call them a half-way point. There’s a map here, one of only two that I know exist, that tells you where they all are,” I explained to her.

“Mansio?” Renn asked, picking up her pace as we neared the exit of this hallway.

I nodded as we approached the large gate. It wasn’t locked, like most doors in Cathedral, but it was heavy. Heavy enough that most humans would struggle with it. I opened it, and noticed the layer of dirt on the bars as I did so.

It hadn’t been used in a while.

Opening the gate, leading into the courtyard, I stepped back to let Renn through first.

She didn’t enter. She stood at the doorway, staring at the small house.

“How… how neat,” Renn whispered as she studied the two-story building.

Glancing at it, I nodded. It was.

“An old home, that’s been rebuilt many times. Last time I helped out it was… well, only thirty or so years ago I think,” I said as I tried to remember.

It had broken down, since the main support beam had eroded thanks to time.

“You mean anyone can stay at it? Our members, I mean,” she said as she finally entered the small courtyard.

I nodded as I closed the gate behind her. It latched solidly. “Yes. Humans sometimes use it too, but most of the time it’s a place any of us can stay at here and not be bothered. This section of the Cathedral is under our control. The Chronicler’s,” I explained.

Renn studied the courtyard as I stood behind her, waiting for her to finish.

She looked at the old trees. The stone walls, surrounding the courtyard on all sides, and the reflective gleam of the copper roof of the building.

“It’s… nice,” she decided to call it.

“Only when it’s empty,” I said and stepped forward. Luckily she took the hint and followed after me.

“You never sleep anyway,” she teased me.

I shrugged, and wondered if that was my problem. Maybe I needed to sleep more.

Entering the Cathedral’s House, I hoped whatever the Chronicler had in mind for my staying here showed itself soon. I didn’t mind this place… it was better than a few other establishments our society owned… but…

“Wow!” Renn happily ran into the building, giggling happily as she entered the very obviously lived in home.

Sometimes I needed to relieve myself of burdens, not add to them.

And staying too long here always gave me more, never less.


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