Reincarnated As A Peasant

Chapter 5: The Gray Priesthood

Landar

When the ceremony was finished, a powerfully built, heavily armored Cleric escorted us into a back room. The room had several small bookshelves with dozens of leather-bound tomes, and more scrolls than I could count easily.

At the center of the room sat Mother Margaret and two elderly looking men sitting around a small circular table. One wore gray robes, the other deep brown, with silver trim.

Thank you Brother Cline, you may leave us now. Margaret said, and the Cleric bowed and left. Gentlemen, this is the Gaurdhaus family. And this, she gestured towards me. Is the boy I was speaking to you about. Landar.

The elderly man in gray robes inclined his head towards me slightly in a sign of mild respect. It is good to meet you, young man. The Mother Superior has told me many things, in particular, about your enduring spirit to survive. Something you would need to overcome mana poisoning for so long.

I gave a bow, but I wasnt exactly sure what to do in this situation. At least the peasant has good manners. The blue and siler robed man said with a huff. He had a glorious mustache and a full head of silver hair. But it did little to ease the extremely punchable expression the man wore. Id personally killed men for looking at me with less disdain.

Mind you, that was in the middle of a war zone, and theyd been holding rifles, pointed at me. But still. I didnt like it.

High Priest Damion, this is my table and my investigation. Either you hold a civil tongue in your head or Ill call Cline back to escort you out. Understood? The elderly woman locked eyes with the sneering jackass and the jackass backed down. He nodded curtly and settled into his chair with obvious annoyance.

Now. High Priest Sigvold, can you please take the Guardhaus family into the other room and begin the questioning there? Mother Margaret asked. Me and Damion would like to speak with Landar alone.

My father looked uneasy, but he followed without complaint. My mother cleared her throat and spoke up. Not something I expected from someone so devout. Excuse me, Mother Margaret. But this is my child you are speaking of. I would know why you wish to speak to him in private.

Tomas looked taken aback, but after only a moments hesitation and a smirk of satisfaction at his wifes boldness he returned to her side. With respect, of course, I would like an explanation as well, please.

Sigvold was about to respond, clearly unbothered by the question. But the white-haired jackass had decided he had to speak up. Peasants, questioning high priests? I shall provide no explanation. Do as you are told, or you shall be executed and the boy taken from you. And your girl will be sold off to pay your debts towards the priesthood. Or better yet, well keep her as

A loud crack filled the room, and pieces of wood shrapnel exploded in every direction. I had to cover my eyes as Mother Margarets wooden switch exploded on impact with the jackasss forehead.

That old bat has some serious grandma energy, I thought as I watched in complete fascination as High Priest Damion winced and held his head. Blood trickled down his forehead, and he swooned in his chair.

That is for issuing demands in the presence of Sigvold, without his leave, in his domain. She pulled out another switch and struck him across the arm, cutting the robe and leaving a red mark the size of a pen. And that is for forgetting the teachings of our Goddess, and threatening a child with slavery or a forced concubine contract. And this, she brought the switch down again, this time on his knuckles, which were still protecting his wounded forehead. The knuckles blacked and bruised visibly. Is for being an idiot, and doing all of that in front of me!

Signold shook his head and sighed. He stood and walked over to his fellow high-priest, who whimpered in pain. He stopped Damion from falling off his chair and placed another hand on his head. A white light filled the air and a moment later High Priest Damion sat in his chair completely unharmed.

That was foolish.

Indeed, she will be brought up on charges!

No brother. Mother Margaret was in the right. Look around. Sigvold motioned to the room, and I took it in. The place was well made, but relatively spartan. The books and scrolls were clearly well used, and the table while quality craftsmanship was far from ostentatious. You are not in your chambers. You are in mine, and yet you attempted to exercise your authority of judgement. That was foolish. The Mother Superiors reaction wastame. Compared to what some of my clerics would have done since I was present. It was a violation, and one I suggest you not repeat. This is my domain, by the Mothers grace. Best you remember that.

Sigvold turned to my family and inclined his head slightly. I apologize for that display. Peasentry should not be burdened with the internaldynamics of the church. Please, if you will follow me, I will explain everything. But it is best we not taint the examination of your son.

As he left, I saw Margaret glare daggers at Damion who visibly winced. Dont piss off Margaret, got it.

She turned those dagger eyes at me and I felt ice forming along my spine. Or was that just fear? I wasnt exactly sure. We have some questions, boy.

I am happy to answer. I tried to keep my voice calm and my facial expression neutral. I had stared down tyrants and been forced to glad-hand mass murderers in my time as an ambassador. But Margarets gaze was something else. If my voice shook a little, and my right foot stepped back a bit, it was only natural.

Good. Now, High Priest. You may ask your questions. Damion flinched a little as she turned her attention back to him, but he straightened and did his best to imitate her as he glared at me. But it came off almost petulant rather than scary.

This chapter upload first at NovelUsb.Com

Thank you, Mother Superior. Now boy, where did you get your hands on monster cores? Margaret rolled her eyes, but he ignored her.

I uh. I am sorry, High Priest, but I dont know what those are.

Monster cores. Things left behind when a monster is killed. I stared blankly at him uncomprehending what he was saying. Oh, by the mothers grace. Do you really expect me to believe that you dont know what a monster's core is?

Again High Priest, I am sorry. I bowed slightly out of habit. It was a Keirei bow, one meant to show appreciation for understanding, a slight apology for a mild annoyance, or respect for a client, depending on the situation. It was basically my go-to bow in formal settings. And this had the air of a formal setting.

Odd behavior is noted as well. Why do you bow like that, boy?

This? I asked, showing the bow again.

Yes.

I uh, well. I saw adults doing it a lot to a noble on the street. I thought it was polite when speaking to your superiors. And I put on a purposefully quisitive expression. You are my social superiorsright?

Mother Margaret just about to burst out laughing. She only barely contained her gafaw by covering her mouth with a hand and practically suffocating herself. Mr. Jerkface, on the other hand, went beat red.

I was a child. I was expected to ask such questions.

Yes. Yes we are. He finally got out after nearly thirty seconds of floundering for the right words.

It is good that you are trying to be respectful, Landar. Margaret said, her face now a mask of complete control. But excessive bowing is annoying. Leave that for nobles, shall we? The high priest nodded in agreement.

I understand. Thank you for the instruction.

I told you he was strange. But strange does not mean dangerous. Margaret whispered to the old gray-haired fart.

The High Priest nodded. Yes. Well, there are still some questions. His eyes went back to me. Like how your spiritual and mental foundations jumped three stages literally overnight.

UhI, I dont know how High Priest sir. Mother Margaret said it could have been a side effect of my fever, I guess. II remember seeing a lot of things while I was dreaming.

I thought it was a safe explanation. Fever dreams were real, and even back on Earth, if someone had a fever for too long, it could end up effecting their mental health and even their outlook on the world. Prolonged fevers did strange things to the mind.

Damions expression changed from one of frustration to actual curiosity. Dreams? During a mana fever? Those are rare. Tell me, how many did you have?

I I didnt know how to answer that. Perhaps I can claim my entire past life was a fever dream?That is probably safe, if he pushes too hard. There were a lot of them. I dont remember much from them until something reminds me.

Can you give us an example, Landar? Margaret asked.

I thought about it for a moment, then decided on something that seemed to fit. I had never whittled wood. But, when my father invited me to learn with him, I picked it up quick. After I touched the wood and felt the grain and how knotted it was, being a piece of scrap wood, I remembered one dream. I was sitting on a porch, or a swing out on a farm. Someone was sitting beside me and showing me how to tell which way the grain of wood went. And that I should try to cut with the grain, not against it. I then used that knowledge to help my dad improve his wolf figure he gave as a tithe.

Damion took notes as I spoke, and when I was done, he looked up at me. Do know remember who it was sitting beside you?

I dont. But I do remember it was someone important. And someone wise. That was a perfect description of my grandfather back on Earth. The man had been a farmer, and one of the wisest people I knew. He also taught me wood working in my teens, not just whittling. But that was all they needed to know.

Interesting. He took notes for a few more heartbeats and then asked for another example.

We spent nearly an hour going over several examples of memories of mine from my old life that I made out to be fever dreams. The time my father taught me about taxes, another time my uncle George taught me to fish, and an interesting conversation about digging latrine systems I had had in basic training with my Drill Sargent.

They were all random things that I hoped would reflect common sense knowledge I might have picked up from my parents talking and me overhearing while ill.

Extraordinary. Mana fever dreams are usually intense like this. But theyre usually very crisp. I wonder, do you think you could? Damion asked Mother Margeret, and she smirked pulling out the small eye glass she held in her robes.

You want me to look for dream mana around him?

If you would please.

She examined me for a long moment while looking through her piece of glass. Hmmm.

What? the high priest asked, almost as eager as a schoolgirl getting asked to prom.

No dream mana. None I wouldnt expect there to be, anyway. The man deflated. But there is a weak aura of divine magic about him.

Thats just residual effects from the gifting ceremony. He sounded disappointed. Well, I guess we just chock this up to strange mana dreams effecting your foundations. That can happen particularly when ones core is so powerful, so young.

Hold on Damion, thats not right. This isnt degrading. Its steady. And Ive seen it before.

Really? Why didnt you mention it before?

I had assumed it was from his mothers prayers over him. An instinctual blessing, something like that. But this? I dont think this is an accident.

What aspect does it have?

Hard to tell. Its too weak right now, lingering but steady. As if someone is waiting to activate a blessing or protection spell. But its unlike anything Ive seen.

May I? Damion reached a hand out and Margaret shot him a deadly glare. Im not going to steal it. Please? Im a better theurge than you are. It is my specialty, after all. After a long pause, she handed it over and the white-haired man glared at me with one eye through the glass.

Yes. I see what you mean. Could be one of the minor gods blessed him during his fevers to make sense and use of them. Its not unheard of, but is uncommon enough to be noted. He wrote some more notes down on his sheet of paper and then seemed to come to some kind of conclusion. Yes. That is my working theory. One of the minor powers, perhaps the Dream Weaver, or Wisdom himself, blessed him so he might live and not waste his childhood. Not unlike the blessing his mother received.

Margaret nodded her agreement. Youre finally making some sense.

Umwhat does that mean exactly? If I can ask? I included the last bit as a way to placate the angry look he gave me for interrupting them.

It means, boy, your mothers prayers were answered, and you have been rescued from a brutally difficult death. Mother Margaret will explain more. Im finished with my examination and will file my report. He stood and made for the door before stopping and remembering his manners. He bowed slightly to Margaret. Thank you for yourhospitality.

Your welcome. And youre also welcome for the lesson. Remember it, boy. Damion winced as he opened the door and swiftly disappeared. Now for you. Come, sit. She patted the chair the high priest had just vacated, and I quickly moved to comply.

I was exhausted. My knees were already shaking. And when I tried to climb up on the chair, I nearly fell. A rough hand grabbed my shirt and hauled me onto the chair mid fall. Thank you, I said, wiping sweat from my forehead.

Helping the weak is my calling, boy. Thats why I help you, and why I was inclined to offer that lesson to the Blue Priesthoods high priest. She winked at me. Youre welcome. Now, about all of that. Do you understand what just happened?

I thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. I think I do.

She smiled. Then explain. Ill fill in any gaps after.

This was a test, and I wasnt exactly sure of what. But she had been nothing but kind and helpful towards me, despite being able to terrify full-grown adults with power and authority well beyond a twelve-year-old peasant boy.

Mana poisoning, If Im guessing correctly. Is an illness mainly of the very young. She nodded, and I kept going. Because they are too young to learn to use their mana, or give it to someone who can. It builds and makes them sick with fevers until theyre old enough to learn to do the prayers like the one we just did. Isis that right?

For the most part, you got it right. Good job, kid.

Is there no way to drain mana from someone involuntarily? Im guessing thats difficult to do.

And youd be guessing correctly. Skills or abilities to drain mana are extremely rare. Those that have them rarely have the time to run around saving the handful of children in the kingdom a year that suffer from mana poisoning. They usually will if its convenient, but even then its only a temporary solution. Items that can pull mana from a person without their willing consent are heavily regulated, and very rare. Those that exist are usually in control of powerful noble families, and trust me, none of them are going to risk a sensitive enchanted item to save a few dozen peasant brats every year. She shook her head.

So were stuck with teas to try to keep the fever down. Blood thinners, and other traditional medicine that are used to treat natural fevers. They help, and can get most kids through until theyre old enough to say the prayers. Those that dont? Wellthey rarely last very long.

We chatted about a few other topics, most of them unimportant. Until I started asking questions about mana and magic.

So what is mana? Ive been sick with it for so long, Id like to know what tried to kill me.

Mother Margaret smiled and shook her head slightly. You possess an uncanny mind for an adult, child, let alone one for someone your age. There are things you need to learn, however. Things like, there are certain questions that not even adults can answer.

I gave her a questioning look. Dont look at me like that. Its true. I have my thoughts, but honestly, theyre just opinions, really. Everyone has their own thoughts on what mana, or magic is exactly, but no one actually knows. Some say the fabric of the universe, others raw energy personified. Still others, particularly from the far east, have completely different cosmological understandings of reality than we do. Studying these things can be the work of a lifetime, if you let it.

Then what do we know about it?

She smiled and leaned back in her chair, then looked over at one of the bookshelves. After a moment, she selected two books and put them out on the table. We know only that magic can be split into two distinct categories. Some say three, but thats a discussion for another time. These two are Faith spells, or Prayers which are fueled by raw mana given willingly and shaped by the will of the Gods through their priesthoods or words in the prayer. She touched one of the two books.

And the other?

She touched the other book. Is arcane magic. The magic fueled by our mana, but controlled and directed by mortal hands towards ends known only to its user. Each of them has their limits. For instance, arcane power cant be used communally. A spell caster can only cast a spell on their own, no one can help them. Sure, other people can help a spell caster prepare a spell, or even lend mana. But no one elses will is there to shape it, to give it purpose. If an arcane users will slips even for a moment?

She opened the book to a particular page where a picture of a man standing on top of a tower had been stenciled in black and white. An aura of power surrounded the man, and it looked as if the power radiated off him. The figure had a manic grin as the power suffused him.

Then she turned the page. A new picture, this one of the man kneeling, gouging his own eyes out as the power cooked him from the inside out. Spell feedback is often the thing that kills arcane magic users. There is an added benefit, however. She turned the page again and this time it was a picture of a mage standing next to a smith. He was pounding a sword on an anvil and giving the weapon shape, as a light aura of mana suffused the weapon, giving it strength and power.

Enchantment. I said, awe in my voice.

Just so.

Sowhat can faith magic do then? If Arcane magic can do all this really awesome stuff, what stuff does faith magic do?

She closed the book on arcane magic and opened the book that was supposed to represent faith magic. The picture she opened too was one of a bunch of gray priesthood acolytes, the lowliest full members of the order, standing around in a circle and holding hands and sharing their mana together. The spell they cast was massive, and scenes of its effects lined the edges of the page healing sick people, and ensuring crops grew well for harvest season.

Working together, united by the ideals of the god or goddess we serve, the various priesthoods can do grand works of faith magic. But one can only work in unison if one is of similar intent to those they seek to work with. Which is why sharing ideals, the worship of a single or multiple gods, and other various things are important. Mutual faith grants purpose, drive, and direction. Allowing amateurs to do work far more important the throwing fire or calling lightning.

She sounded proud of the mundane yet powerful magic.

So, you help the kingdom while mages help themselves?

She hesitated for a moment. Mages serve the kingdom in a direct role. Much like a warrior, or even a paladin. While they might save a family from bandits, or heal someone of a terrible illness, they will never reach as many people as we can with one single prayer in the cathedral with the entire gray priesthood working together.

That brought me to another question I had. What is the gray priesthood? And why are there multiple priesthoods?

She smiled bitterly. Yes, there are multiple aren't there. As many priesthoods as there are major gods in the pantheon. But there are only four major priesthoods. The Gray, Blue, Yellow, and Red.

I thought about it and came up with my answer. But there is only the Mother and Father. how can there be multiple major organizations claiming authority, when there are only two major gods?

Thatthat is tricky. She genuinely looked taken aback by the question this time. Apparently, this wasnt common knowledge. There are four, because each of us was founded based on a different underlying philosophy. The Blue was founded by researchers, arcanists, theurges, and thaumaturgists. Those who deeply look into the world and attempt to understand it on a fundamental level. The Red was founded by the warriors of the Father, or so the myth goes. They take personal care of the Royal line, ensuring that the descendants of the Mother and Fathers union are safe from outside threats such as assassins.

So the blue are the eggheads, the red are the secret service. Got it. What about the yellow and gray?

Her smile turned happy then. The Yellow are those who care for the spiritual needs of the people. But they focus heavily on the noble classes. In some ways, they are our counterparts. The gray serve the people of every station. Though the nobility rarely has need of our services. We are in our own way, servants of all.

My mind raced with the implications of this knowledge. These were very similar to the holy orders that existed during medieval times. While they served the same God, the Hospitaliers and the Order of the Blood of Jesus the Christ had very, very different missions. One healed, the other persecuted non-believers. So I had to tread carefully. But it seemed Margaret, at least, served in a more Hospitalier type order, one dedicated to doing good for others.

I had more questions I wanted answered. I know what a Priest and Priestess is, I know what a Mother is. I motioned towards her. But what is a cleric? And how do they fit into things if faith magic is used in groups?

She smirked and turned the page. There was another image, one of a single cleric in heavy armor holding a shield against a dark tentacled monster, and bringing down a mighty hammer wreathed in holy flame on the abomination. Few of the faithful qualify, but there are those among us who fight evil in a more direct approach. These are the clerics and paladins of the various priestly orders.

She gave me a severe look as I examined the page. It was truly magnificent artistic skill and dedicated care that went into crafting such art work. I was impressed. The clerics might be the least of any order, but never under any circumstances underestimate them. Just because theyre strong doesnt mean theyre dumb, unthinking brutes. Their faith and knowledge of faith magic often exceeds that of most priests.

I didnt doubt it. It seemed they would have to work alone, where the others could rely on working together. I still had a lot to learn about it all, but it was clear being a cleric carried a stigma with it for being a dumb meathead. A stigma that might serve them well, as it would make those who would oppose them underestimate them.

I shook my head. No, I wont. That is a promise. I have a question, if Im allowed to ask?

Mother Margaret guffawed. Boy, half of what you know you wouldnt know if it wasnt for you having already asked questions. Yes, ask away.

Thank you. What is a beast's core?

She stared at me for a long moment, before laughing, and reaching for another book.