Readers of some of the other books within the "Myths" collection might notice that thus far, this collection has been much more cut and dry. None of the wild battles against ahistorical enemies found nowhere else of Utierres, nor the steamy supposed romances of Lemphisa. In fact, if one has read through the Coda1, they will have recognized every story up to this point. Though there have been some slight alterations and alternative interpretations to the Coda over the years, it seems that the theology of Shaffat has remained largely the same.
A big part of this is, no doubt, the black and white nature of many of these tales. For example, the story of Shaffat's ascension tells of redemption in the face of the unknowing, unfathomable evil of The Keeper. Similarly, the story of the First Judgment portrays Shaffat as an undeniable force of good, immediately putting her newly acquired powers to work to execute someone who no doubt deserved it. All that to say, there is little room to say that Shaffat's actions are bad, or that her enemies actions were good.
However, there is one story that is not so clear cut. So much so that its verity is a constant source of debate. This is by no means something you'd hear by any self-respecting authority in the Church of Shaffat. To give some sense of perspective, my first exposure to this story was a sailor freshly waddling out of the Dry Crab2. Nevertheless, he was able to give a compelling outline of a tale that could've been long lost.
Footnotes 1. The Coda is the religious text of the followers of Shaffat.
2. The Dry Crab is a popular bar on the West edge of Astol.
THE SAILOR: Now, a long time ago, let's say.. well it's hard to know the year. But I'm sure you're familiar with the Coda a little, a learned man like you?
ELIDYR: Yes, in part.
THE SAILOR: Well, whatever the case. All this begins right between the 2nd and 3rd Judgments. Or really, I guess I should say the 2nd and 4th. Right before the one with the tomb.
ELIDYR: The Cryptkeeper?
THE SAILOR: Yeah.
ELIDYR: That would be the 3rd Judgment. So this is an alternate telling of the 2nd?
THE SAILOR: No, no. You have me all wrong. This is the 3rd. The real one.
ELIDYR: So it's an alternate telling of the 3rd?
THE SAILOR: No. You're testing my patience here, book boy. Both the 2nd and the one you call the 3rd happened. This was something else.
ELIDYR: There was... another Judgment? Wholly unrecorded anywhere else?
THE SAILOR: Yes, there was. If you let me, I'll tell you the story of it.
ELIDYR: Yes, please continue.
THE SAILOR: Now, between the time of the 2nd and the 3rd Judgment, there was a man by the name of Scipio. He was what you types might call a philosopher, but any good man from out here would know was trouble. Meaning, he had a keen interest in the fringe and obscure. Stories of the Old Gods, runes from overseas, all manner of arcane objects with no good purpose fascinated him to no end. So, as his time in this realm began to wane, he became a sort of occultist.
THE SAILOR: Now, see, as I'm sure you know, that sort of thing is frowned upon even in these days, so he had to conduct all his work in secret. So Scipio began to look for a place to set up shop. As any good hermit does, he decided on a cave. The coldest, darkest, dampest cave he could find.
ELIDYR: Do you have any idea where this cave was?
THE SAILOR: No. How the hell would I? Do you want to hear the damn story or or are you gonna keep interrupting me?
ELIDYR: I apologize. I was curious.
THE SAILOR: Don't be curious.
THE SAILOR: Now, evidently, nobody but Scipio himself really knows what he got up to in that old cave. As any man worth his keep ought to, I tend to veer away from the more shady dealings that go in a place of that nature. But what I do know, sure as I'm standing here, is it wasn't good.
THE SAILOR: Villages nearby talked of strange circles and animal bones being left in the tracks leading to the cave. The few that spotted Scipio crawling out on occasion said he looked hairy and dirty, beaten and broken. They even say some thought he was a walking corpse altogether.
THE SAILOR: This caused some considerable stress to the townspeople, to the point where they had enough. They got together and arranged a group of a few volunteers to deal with this shifty character. Though, not necessarily even to kill the man. After all, for all his eccentricities, he was just a frail old man. Surely he could be reasoned with in some way or another. So, they go out to find him. And when they do, they don't recognize him.
THE SAILOR: Scipio seemed to have completely cleaned up his act completely. In fact, despite his age, he probably looked better than every desperate derelict they sent out to come get him. His beard was well kempt, his clothes nigh aristocratic. So, with little resistance he was escorted right back to the village. All that was intended at this point was to ask the man a few questions.
THE SAILOR: And right there, in the midst of the little crowd the village could muster, it happened.
ELIDYR: What happened?
THE SAILOR: The 3rd Judgment. Right beside the Old Man, reality itself seemed to crack. To each and every amazed bystander, the scene looked a little different. As if he was reflected in some twisted mirror, Scipio and the ground beneath him began to warp. To some he was impossibly wide. To others he was impossibly thin. To others still he disappeared altogether.
THE SAILOR: Then, as quickly as the fanfare had started, it ended. A dark figure appeared for a fraction of a second, and before anyone could even recognize her for who she was, Shaffat was gone. Scipio and his head fell to the ground, and his unusual, discolored blood stained the sand.
A pause followed of several seconds
ELIDYR: Is that it?
THE SAILOR: Why wouldn't it be?
ELIDYR: I just don't understand. In all the other stories of judgment, there is a reason given. A speech, some of which have been recorded nearly verbatim. Why would she strike him down?
THE SAILOR: Hell if I know.