The Cat Who Knew How to Cry

5. THE PUNISHING CLAW (part 3)

"Isn't that why Alasais needs Punishing Claws? I should be shaking in my boots and begging for mercy. But I don't seem to be very good at that," Anar admitted, and cracked a big smile in spite of himself. "I must have lost the last of my marbles."

"Actually, this city is in such a bubble, you're probably the only sane cat in here," quipped Aniallu. Then added very seriously. "You have no idea how glad I am that you've managed to retain your sanity. Sit with me."

Anar lowered himself to the floor next to her – slowly, as his legs barely obeyed him.

"Kad, be a dear, bring me a map and my book bag. No rush."

She waited for the half-elf to disappear behind a column, then said quietly.

"Anar, the truth is that most of what you know about Alasais, her Shadows, the world beyond the Curtain, probably even yourself, has little to do with reality. Speaking plainly, these things are nothing more than shameless fabrications of your... local priests."

"In other words, you are tal sianae, Alasais' Shadow, but not a Punishing Claw, 'liberator of souls unworthy of this world,' the scourge of Alae apostates? I've always feared an encounter with one of you," Anar admitted.

"You shouldn't be. It is true that I liberate creatures like you – those that reject their home world, but in a much more... humane method. I don't kill them, but simply help them relocate to a more suitable place. That, and to slough off the sensation of their own abnormality, inadequacy, wickedness and whatnot. Our ethos – if I may call it that – is to help a creature find itself and its place in the Infinite. That is it. The extent of our service to Alasais."

"That doesn't sound at all like Alasais... Like our Alasais."

"Oh, I've had it with your Alasais!" Aniallu rolled her eyes, leaning back on the column. "Whenever I stumble into one of her local statues, I can barely resist ripping the sculptor's arms off."

"You mean there really are... two?"

"Yes. One is real. The other is a forgery presented by your priests. The real Alasais had long turned away from Rual. The priests had taken advantage of this by distorting her image beyond recognition. Essentially, they had invented a new goddess of their own, in the name of which they now rule the city. And the incredible thing is," she chuckled sardonically, "their governance boasts universal approval, aside from you and Alasais."

"But if Rual had fallen out of favor with the goddess, why didn't she just... erase it from the face of the earth? Or at least put the priests back in their place?"

"Why should she bother?" Alu asked simply, and Anar didn't know what to answer...

Kad returned.

"Before we talk about lofty matters, let me first tell you who you were... before?" Aniallu offered, taking the bag from the slave.

The prince nodded.

"You were born in Briaellar a little more than three hundred years ago," the sianae began, but Anar immediately interrupted her.

"In Briaellar?! How could anyone be born there? We are told that you can only ascend to Briaellar after death, and even then only those that – "

"... had lived a truly righteous life," Aniallu finished for him. "I'm aware. Yet, to the chagrin of your mother and those of her ilk, that isn't so. Briaellar is a city just like any other. You can be born there, die there, or move there. Even if you're not Alae."

"Briaellar – our people's holy of holies – is populated by non-cats? Amialis had nearly cut off Kad's tongue once after overhearing him argue with one of her chambermaids that good slaves followed their masters to Briaellar after death – to continue serving them for all eternity."