All the Dust that Falls

Chapter 245: The Work of the Righteous, Epilogue

The capital stood tall and imposing atop a high hill. All around, green fields rolled down from its walls to meet the plains below. The massive walls hewn from stone gave it quite an impressive silhouette on the horizon. Even more so when once considered how far that stone might have traveled to come here. But even past that, the place was still growing. Palaces on the inside climbed ever higher into the sky, visible well past the walls. But at the center, above them all, rested the most impressive keep where the king resided.

From a distance, Zeal thought the capital looked quite nice. Zeal's broom handle tapped along the road as he walked forward. From a distance, he thought the capital looked quite nice. It had been a long journey from Caleb, but his faith had carried him through. The organization there had taken well enough hold of the city that he felt comfortable with leaving for a bit, even if he had to go alone with his most trusted subordinates staying behind. He had thought about bringing the crazy woman with him though. He had never gotten her name, but somehow, she knew about their god. Like him. Even before Caleb had spread the word beyond its walls.

When Zeal had found her walking through the city they had simply thought she was some crazy rambler. Some unhinged woman who babbled nonsense. But upon further inspection, her ramblings weren't as crazy as they first thought.

She obviously had no power or responsibility in the organization. She simply walked about and spoke her prophecies. The people had taken to caring for her, making sure she had a roof to sleep under and food and water at all times. They hadn't been able to get her to bathe or anything, which was borderline sacrilegious, but at least she was alive.

The woman's appearance had puzzled Zeal until everything he realized: she was god-touched. Patricia was sent by their lord to tell them the errors of their ways. There was no other explanation. Why their lord would have sent someone as filthy as this, Zeal couldn't begin to imagine. But it had to be the case. It had to.

Zeal had been distressed to realize his teachings had contained inaccuracies and slight errors. But with some simple corrections to his understanding, he managed to remedy the issue. All based on interpretations of her mad ravings.

It had been a relatively simple adjustment to make, and if anything, the people agreed with the revised teachings more. The purifying fire and wrathful cleansing of angry gods seemed more in line with what they had witnessed than the gentle cleansing that had worked his way into his sermons. As he had meditated on the ideas, it only confirmed his resolve. Clearly, something had led him astray. Turned him toward softness and tolerance. But some stains could not be scrubbed out so easily.

Ever since the crazy prophet had come, the streets had been twice as clean, and people worked much harder to make sure that there was not a single speck of dust could be found about the place. And so Caleb sparkled. The city was being rebuilt in an orderly manner with a meticulously precise grid. It would have no slums where dirty street rats could hide, but that was intentional. In the new Caleb, the more perfect Caleb, there would be no need for such things. No one would fall behind. None would sink into filth.

It was going rather well, but just the one city wasn't enough for their god. They had to convert more. Patricia was staying behind, as he doubted that she would be accepted in a city completely unprepared for her. But he had taken it upon himself to take this pilgrimage, to spread the word and prepare the capital for Void's teachings.

He passed a single copper to the gate guard, who allowed him to bring his worn pack into the city’s walls with his walking broom. He was sure that the guard didn't believe that he was a peddler, coming to sell his wares and buy more to take to the surrounding cities, but the small amount of coin was enough to make him look the other way and let in what was probably just a refugee.

His steps took him past the gate and into the city proper. The first street was not bad, but as soon as Zeal turned off to find a place to stay", he couldn't help but lift his lip in disgust.

There was a pile of refuse, not a block away from the main road. Horse dung and straw and rotting food just piled up against a bricked window, stinking on the ground. It should never be allowed. It was unacceptable.

Shuddering, he stepped around the pile and looked for an inn. This simply redoubled his desire for a proper bath. As he passed the massive pile of dung, he saw someone huddled up against it. An old man with missing teeth holding a wooden cup. He shook it at Zeal as he walked past.

Zeal couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at the man's state. How could one let themselves become so dirty? Much less allow themselves to exist next to such filth. The fact that the man didn’t simply move away nearly made him twist his face in open disgust.

He felt the desperate desire to scrub himself with soap and water until he was once again pristine enough to be seen speaking about his Lord. But looking at the man's face, Zeal couldn't help but stop. This man just didn't know any better. He bent over and offered the man a hand instead of a copper. The man looked at him, confused. Once they met their eyes, though. Zeal activated his first real skill.

Preach was nothing too impressive, but it certainly helped give his words a little extra weight. “Come now, brother. I think you need to learn how to become clean.”

The man looked at Zeal’s robes. They were slightly marred by dust and travel, but the pure white still stood out compared to the surroundings. But still, he took his hand and let Zeal help him to his feet.

They continued farther in, looking for a place for them both to get clean now. Several people watched from the shops at the odd sight as Zeal’s walking broom clacked along, but no one bothered him.

No one bothered him yet, at least. He didn't imagine that would last. But he was on a mission to explain to the people what needed to be done. Then he was sure that this city could turn itself around. It had the potential to even surpass Caleb, with the amount of resources it had and the ways it could be made. Imagining the city renewed, these dilapidated buildings around him torn down and rebuilt in straight lines, with wide streets. Where everyone had a place and the cobblestones would glisten from being polished. The filth would be moved out of the city and buried deep. Very deep.

But the more he came across the blatant displays of petty crime and lawlessness, the more concerned he became that the filth was rooted too deep in the heart of the people.

Perhaps many would be beyond saving. Purges were nasty things and blood running through the streets was not a pretty sight. It did a horrible job at cleaning, being hard to remove itself streets. But sometimes, as Patricia had mentioned, sometimes one needed to dirty their hands in the work to more thoroughly cleanse something.

Eventually, they found an inn willing to take them in long enough for them to get clean. Zeal found himself unable to resist explaining to the innkeeper how the inn's floor could be better swept, and the paint could be fixed.

The innkeeper had at first been enraged, but once he had calmed down, he realized that Zeal was correct. He even grabbed a broom from the corner to rectify the issue. The Zeal helped him as they swept the floor. There was not much they could do about some of the stains for now, but even before his bath, he was outside helping paint the inn. The sign was redone, and even the beggar man helped. Perhaps he understood better Zeal’s teachings than he had feared.

A day or two passed before the inn was in complete order. The innkeeper and his family thanked Zeal for the push they needed to better themselves. “We're still busy. In fact, it is busier than ever had been.”

The inn had become a favorite haunt of many of the locals.

At first, the neighbors had grumbled about the need to be clean-shaven and freshly washed. But when the inn started providing those services to others, people flocked to it right and left. Many of them came just to listen to Zeal talk in the corner. He never tried to draw attention to himself too much. He had discovered that was counterproductive. Most of the time. So he simply sat in the corner of the room where a bard or a minstrel would usually sit and explained how best to live their lives. About how keeping their lives spotless and free of clutter would make everything better.

Zeal also, of course, spoke about the opposite side of the coin. How the great void god would destroy all that failed to adhere to its word, all that was left impure and wanting. He'd been a bit hesitant on that one. Caleb certainly hadn't been immaculate when the void came and saved them from the zombies. But as Patricia explained it, it had the potential to be immaculate, and if they listened, truly listened to his word, it would be. The Void would protect them evermore.

Soon, the buildings next to the inn were cleaned up and tidied, and there just wasn't enough space for everyone who wanted to listen to Zeal speak in the room.

And so he went out into the street and talked to the crowd out there. Day after day, he looked out at the growing sea of white robes and spoke. They couldn't all hear him, so some relayed words to the ones behind them, and others relayed those words to the crowd forming around them. And they begin to propagate. It took days and weeks, but soon enough, they had their own. A few blocks of correctly behaving people and more people who lived outside were working to spread the news.

After several weeks, Zeal was happy with his progress, but the city still wasn't ready for the prophet. So, one morning, he packed up his belongings and told the innkeeper to keep up the good work. And then, Zeal walked to the other side of the city. It took him several hours to get through the bustle, but he found someone else willing to listen to his speaking. A day or two later, he repeated the process.

This time, it was easier as several of his white-robed followers had already paved the way for him. Even if they were mostly ignored on the corners of the streets, they tried to explain to the people the errors of their ways. But it was just enough to prime the people.Then Zeal was able to get his foot in and explain the glories of Void. Soon, he would send someone to bring Patricia in, and the city would never be the same again.

End of Vol 3