Inch by Inch

The town streets were busy, but not crowded. People were out celebrating the solstice, but the parties had yet to begin. Everyone from the ceremony had either joined Jay at the training ground, returned home to celebrate privately, or funneled into the tavern for the first of many rounds.

Including Jay’s family.

This space on the street meant he had no trouble making his way back to the triangular church without being disturbed or pulled aside. The testing had tired him and left its marks on his clothes, but that was not a strange sight in Kavakar town. Anyone who lived so far from the city states understood the need for exercise or were themselves stained from a good day’s work. The stiffness in his muscles made the trip back take only a minute or two longer.

The street outside the church itself was deserted. The outer doors hung open as tradition to welcome any into the looming three-pointed star-shaped building. One of the other two entrances might have been busier, but the one closest to the training grounds had been used mostly by hopefuls like him. When the day’s recipients left, all the families went home.

He paused only briefly outside the church, not to reconsider but to brace himself before he pushed his way past three different sets of doors. The interior hadn’t changed at all since that morning, and yet it was an entirely different place from where he had stood hours earlier. His hurried steps slowed and became more graceful and cautious.

None of his family were ardent worshipers. They all believed, of course, but that belief didn’t translate to fanaticism. Jay would only watch incredulous, as some of the local congregation spent their lives seeking approval that they’d already received. His father had a saying that he would whisper out of earshot of Speaker Natasha or when surrounded by friends.

“The only reason I’d be found at the church for each of the three daily sermons is to sell the congregation snacks and writing supplies.”

Adrien always finished with a joke about the elevated price he’d charge - solely so it was divisible by three, of course, but Adrien and Jay himself believed. How could his father not, having received a Word from the gods themselves? Until today Jay hadn’t really understood that despite seeing and feeling the effects of Words all his life.

Now he had. He walked further in, treating the silence that lingered with more respect than he ever had before.

The church was empty, and he stopped at the front of the rows of pews before the three spirals, the triskelion. It was from here that Speaker Natasha spoke and he’d received his Word. The symbol of the gods. Three spirals that grew until they connected at a center point to form a triangle. He stood there for a minute or two, looking around each of the points of the star church and inspecting the decorations, but no one appeared. With a sigh, he took a seat on the central pew and settled in to wait. His legs were tired.

The sigh echoed around the church. It sounded quite different as it bounced off the walls and reflected to him. Very different. Wait...

“Not going to step into the triskelion then?” The voice sounded almost sad as it bounced off the walls at him.

Jay stood and looked around. “Hello?”

Another sigh echoed off the walls. Jay tried to track it but failed.

“Over here,” it responded.

Jay followed the sound. It was Speaker Natasha. She leaned against a wall to the side of the church - a space he was certain had been empty seconds before.

“What have you come here for?” Speaker Natasha intoned, stepping away from the wall.

“Ehm...” Jay examined the wall behind her as she stepped away. There were no seams. The certainty in his mind agreed. How did she get there? “I wanted to ask you a few questions.”

Speaker Natasha’s wrinkled face crumbled in what almost looked like a pout.

“You didn’t come to steal a Word early?” Speaker Natasha almost groused. She took a closer look at him. Recognizing. “Or try to get a new Word?”

“No,” Jay answered quickly then paused. It had been tried before, he knew, but it was an impossibility. No one could change or influence the gods.

There was a famous story, well, more a cautionary tale, about a general who wished to build the perfect army. The general gathered a legion of recipients, all eighteen or older, for the solstice. They formed up before a two-sided shape - a semicircle, with two-thirds of the triskelion inside it. One for the Heart, one for the Hinterlands. An army had no need for the Home.

This bi-skelion had been sanctified - willingly or unwillingly by the local speakers. This ‘fact’ changed depending on who told the story. Personally, Jay believed a mad speaker had a hand in it. He didn’t see any other way that the notoriously pious order could have been forced to help.

Recipient by recipient stepped into the semicircle. Hour by hour passed. Not one Word was granted. Around the rest of the continent, others received their Words, whether above the gold inlaid triskelions found in the towering triangle temples of Pono, or on rough spirals scratched in the dirt by wandering nomads.

The general didn’t last long afterwards. All he received on that day was a title of Fool and a horde of angry families. But maybe someone else had figured it out.

Did Speaker Natasha know how to influence the gods?

“Is that an option?”

“No,” Speaker Natasha answered just as quickly, then sniffed. “Doesn’t stop people though.”

“Riiiight,” Jay said slowly. Why bring it up then?

Before he went off on a spiral of thought, he caught himself and focused on why he came here. “I wanted to ask you some questions about today’s recipi-”

“You’re sure you haven’t come here to complain about your Word?” Speaker Natasha asked. She sounded very put out.

“Yes,” he answered, now thoroughly confused by her questions.

“Oh.”

Speaker Natasha stopped the slow, shuffling steps she had been taking towards the triskelion and made for the bench beside him instead. She plonked herself down right where he had been sitting, shoving him aside to do so, and let out a sigh of relief. When Jay didn’t immediately say anything — too bewildered by her actions to do so — she waved a hand in his direction.

“Go on then.”

“Ehm... I wanted to ask you about what Words the other recipients were granted.” He would ignore all the other questions he had about... whatever just happened for now.

“Why?” Speaker Natasha snapped. It was a fair response. Words were deeply personal. They reflected who a person was in the eyes of the Three. While it wasn’t rude to know about someone’s Word, it was rude to ask them, and ruder to seek that knowledge out from others without honest purpose.

And so Jay began his story. He told her about his dream and all his plans for the guilds. He avoided mentioning how he’d had all of this in place before receiving his Word, but from Speaker Natasha’s sniffs, she picked up on the breach of tradition.

He told her about his Word, Measure, how it worked and his plans for it. He told her about his failure to be recruited. He poured it all out in a confession and plea.

At the end, Speaker Natasha clicked her tongue. Jay held his breath.

“Okay.”

Jay blinked. “Okay? You don’t want to know anymore? You don’t want to tell me a parable or warn me about denying?”

“Denying.” Speaker Natasha scoffed. “People say it without knowing the meaning of the word. As if you or those guild recruiters know what the Three intend.” She sniffed again. “I ought to go down and tell them parables.” She turned and eyed the three doors of the church.

And for a second, with panic rising in him, Jay thought she would do it. She inched forward in the seat, and he saw her leading a very slow charge through the town with him in tow, trying to dissuade her. He saw himself hiding as Speaker Natasha chided the powerful guild recruiters in front of the town. He saw himself becoming a town legend that would never be forgotten.

And not in a good way.

But Speaker Natasha just sniffed again and lay back against the pew. He exhaled in relief.

“Besides,” she said, turning on him. “You’d know all this already if you paid attention.” She punctuated her words by jabbing her hand into his side.

He may have outweighed her and towered over her small form, but he made no move to escape the painful fingers. She was right, after all.

“Sorry.”

Speaker Natasha waved at him again. “What exactly are you looking for?”

Jay inhaled. “I want to know about others like me.”

“Words like Measure?”

He nodded. “Yes, people who were granted Words that didn’t fit.” At the Speaker’s responding grumble, he hurriedly explained before she went on a tirade. “Words that were unexpected, I mean. Words that could be used for adventuring that were given to those that weren’t ready. Other people whose plans won’t work anymore.”

Speaker Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. These were also the kind of Words that could cause a lot of trouble if misused. He knew it. She knew it. These were people whose lives had just been thrown into disarray.

He could feel her willingness to help falling.

“I want to create a team directly — not through the guilds,” he said in a rush.

Speaker Natasha’s shoulders slumped tiredly. “That’s a very dangerous and risky thing.”

Jay slouched down. “I know. But... I want to do it. And it can be done.”

They sat in silence while the Speaker considered it.

When she spoke again her voice was resigned and sharp. “I will help you. But I want a promise out of you. You will not tell them that I sent you to them or that it’s a quest from the Gods or any other nonsense of the sort.”

“Yes. Of course,” he answered hurriedly.

“Swear it,” Speaker Natasha intoned. “And know that I will bring you great pain if you break this promise, never mind what the Gods do.”

Jay so swore.

Speaker Natasha rolled her neck. “Let’s start with the A’s.”

An hour later Jay had nine names.

Three sets of three. It was an auspicious number that left him glaring at Speaker Natasha, an action he would never have considered an hour before. An hour of being poked and jabbed as they discussed Words had taken away some of her mystique. She, of course, declared herself innocent, and he couldn’t think of any names she might have left out.

So Jay thanked her gratefully and left the church behind. He had a plan and nine names to find. Time was ticking, and he needed to strike before the ink had dried on Kavakar.

| i i i ¦ i i i | i i i ¦ i i i |

The easy names went quickly and were very unsuccessful.

Tom, the carpenter’s apprentice who was granted Crush, wasn’t interested. The man loved carpentry and working with wood. He had no intention of leaving the town.

Ares, Jay didn’t really know at all, but the man was happy to hear him out over a tankard of beer. He only turned Jay away when he realized that Jay wouldn’t be paying him a high price or immediately. It seemed that Freeze was a valuable Word to traders as well as adventurers. Ares was in the tavern to celebrate and burn through the various ‘gifts’ he’d received alongside job offers.

Elsie, who wanted to be a hunter but received Expel, laughed at him. It seemed that he and Speaker Natasha were wrong. Expel was apparently a great Word for hunting. Elsie began to explain something about its effect on the blood and guts before he begged away.

Two of the names on his list were obviously unfit for the work and life and completely against the idea when he visited them anyway.

He had planned on leaving his friend Kate for last. Only then could he give her an actual option instead of relying on their friendship. But he was down to four names and desperate. Scoff didn’t sound like a useful Word, but Kate was great. She was strong, talented and smart enough to lead a team of her own.

His throat clogged as she told him that she’d already joined the guards. The guild recruiters hadn’t paid much attention to her, but the guards knew Kate better. Like him, they saw her ability beyond the Word.

And so, Jay was left with the three more... difficult names.

Which was again, far too auspicious for his liking.