The Tainted Cup

What a tool cynicism is to the corrupt, claiming the whole of the creation is broken and fraudulent, and thus we are all excused to indulge in whatever sins we wish—for what’s a little more unfairness, in this unfair world?

That’s the problem with figuring shit out—eventually you run into someone who’d prefer all their shit remained thoroughly unfigured.

But I am reluctant to assume maliciousness when incompetence is a better explanation

Civilization is often a task that is only barely managed. But harden your heart and slow your blood. The towers of justice are built one brick at a time. We have more to build yet.

So instead of committing robbery, I made tea.

Sen sez imperiya. The Empire is strong because it recognizes the value in all our people. Including you, Dinios Kol. And when the Empire is weak, it is often because a powerful few have denied us the abundance of our people.

I see!" said Ana, nodding. "I just have one more question." "Of course" "What color was the clay?" Farazi blinked, confused. "Clay? What clay?" "The clay you must have stuck in your eyes and ears," said Ana, grinning, "to remain so amazingly fucking ignorant of everything about you.

But though they receive no worship, it’s the maintenance folk who keep the Empire going. Someone, after all, must do the undignified labor to keep the grand works of our era from tumbling down.

We do these ugly, dull things for a reason—to make a space where folk can live, celebrate, and know joy and love.

But its strangest feature is that the more its citizens feel it is broken, the more broken it actually becomes.

Have you ever seen one, Din?” asked Ana. “Or a piece of one, a bone or a segment of chitin?” I shook my head. “Din,” she said tersely, “I am blindfolded, so if you’ve nodded your head, I’ve no fucking idea.” “No, ma’am, I have not.

The emperor offered many blessings to the Legion, it seemed, but precious few for the Iudex. How simple the titans seemed, and how impossible justice felt.

Civilization is often a thing that is barely managed.

Could have worms,” mused Kitlan. “You goddamned Apoths always think it’s worms.” “That’s because so many people have so many fucking worms.

What a world it is, Signum,” said Fayazi, “where you are forced to change yourself, break yourself, all for a little scrap of money.

The thing about war, boy, is while it happens, you’ve no idea what’s going on—and when it’s over, everyone spends the rest of your life telling you what you did.

It's such an odd thing, the way you can know someone so perfectly through what they read. We liked the same voices, in the same way.

We did not talk any more of what we’d witnessed, he at the walls and I in the city. The things we’d seen and done now felt too big for words. Silence was a better language.

The Empire is strong because it recognizes the value in all our people. Including you, Dinios Kol. And when the Empire is weak, it is often because a powerful few have denied us the abundance of our people.

Keep your hand close to your sword." I paused. "My sword is, ah... still made of wood, ma'am." She frowned and cocked her head. "Oh. Well... in that case, make sure your boots are laced up proper, boy, so you can run like hell.

Yes…” said Kepheus sadly. “It must be a hard thing, to go from the Legion to the Iudex.” “Why so?” “Well, in the Legion, you know each wet season if you have won or lost. Yet in the Iudex, you can do all your duties aright, and catch every crooked soul—but at the end, there is no putting right what wrong was done.

Was that why you asked that Legion commander about the smell of his piss, ma’am?” “Oh, no, not at all. At the time, I was merely curious.

For the empire is huge. Complex. Often unwieldy and slow. And in many places, weak. A massive colossus, stretching out across the cantons, one in whose shadow we all live...and yet it is prone to wounds, infections, fevers, and ill humors. But its strangest feature is that the more its citizens feel it is broken, the more broken it actually becomes.

Let us pretend to be professional, you and I, for hell and the gentry await.

I glanced down at my boots, now worn and stained from all my travels. They didn’t look quite so bad, I thought. Perhaps they would look even better with a bit more wear.

I wondered if even the air was expensive in here, then saw it was: a massive kirpis mushroom had been built into the corner of every main room—a tall, black fungus built to suck in air, clean it, and exhale it out at a cooler temperature.

But righteousness rarely finds ones so powerful.

My eye fell on the sack of talints at my feet, and I reflected that now I really could just walk away with them, if I liked. Yet I decided that the odds of a solitary young criminal with a huge fortune on his person making it through a highly patrolled road that was often pestered with murderous deserters would either be slim to none or none at all. So instead of committing robbery, I made tea.

For I will still be in need of an assistant investigator,” she said. “And you did a decent job in Talagray.” She thought for a moment. “Could have been cheerier and smiled a bit more, sure, but still, a good job. I would have you keep doing it, if you prefer.

And we get some say in what kind of person we are, Din. We do not pop out of a mold. We change. We self-assemble.