The Skybound Sea

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No matter what god he believes in, a man is not entitled to much in life.

The Gods gave him breath. Then they gave him needs. Then they stopped giving. Society affords him only a few extra luxuries: the desire for gold and the demand to spend it.

And the choices he has for himself are even more limited. If he lives well, he gets to choose to die. If he doesn’t, he gets to choose to kill. And the men who kill are small men with small pleasures.

The Gods have no love for those who don’t kill in Their name. Society loathes a man who doesn’t fight under a banner. A small man doesn’t get to choose who or how or when or why he kills.

But sometimes he gets lucky.

And then he gets to sit behind Gevrauch’s desk and see what the Bookkeeper sees. He sees how they die.

I’ve never considered myself a lucky man until now.

I’ve made poor choices.

I chose to accept the job posed to me: to guard the priest that guarded the book that opens heaven and hell. I chose to follow the book when it was stolen by those who would use it to open the latter.

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