Pontifex Ursa – Part 3

I’m never going to find success at this.  This is simply me refusing to admit the obvious.

Pontifex Ursa -Part 3

The Pious Path, I soon learned, had another name: Prayer Way.  I thought that odd, the first hour of walking on the path towards my destiny.  A few hours later, I realized exactly why it had a different name.  The Pontifex, using incalculable might, had simply placed the Pious Path through existing terrain. The Path went over hill, over dale, and up the sides of mountains. Simply looking along the Path ahead of me became a source of exhaustion.

Priestess Lilith bore my muttered complaints with good faith, never forcing me to go faster than I could, yet never letting me slacken to a standstill.  Sensing my distress, she talked as the hours crept into days.  I learned more about the College of Cardinals and the Vatican on that walk than I had in almost seven years of apprenticeship.  Some of it surprised me, although looking back it really shouldn’t have.  I’d always known the Pontifex was a fiendishly cunning ruler, even as a small boy.

The Pious Path were the eyes and ears of the Pontifex, the Priesthood sending updates on population size, irradiated soil reclamation progress, birth defect rates, the works.  Further, knowing that humans would have things to present or protest, the Path allowed for them to seek a direct audience with the Pontifex.  None were ever turned away, none refused that most sacred of rights.  Yet the Path was… strenuous.  Those who walked it would have a long time to both consider the validity of their claim and whether the journey was worth the cost. 

The Pontifex wasn’t trying to silence opposition, only refine it so that he was inundated with inane and dismissive concerns brought by those with nothing better to do.  It was wickedly clever, and the more Priestess Lilith expounded upon the subject of seeking audience and the duties of the Priesthood, the more respect I found for the Pontifex. 

The Priesthood took some of the powers of the Pontifex into themselves when they were accepted into his service.  Yet the Pontifex could remove those favors at any time.  Furthermore, no matter how far you ran, there was always an equally powerful and cunning Priest who could track you down to administer the Pontifex’s decree.  Not all who studied at the College would enter the Priesthood, either.  That bit of news chilled me more than the winter air.  It was all I had ever wanted, all I had ever thought about. 

Some were unfit or unwilling to enter into the Priesthood upon learning everything required of those called to it.  Yes, those blessed with the Pontifex’s grace had unnatural stamina, strength, speed, and longevity.  But they were required to stay within the Pontifex’s service, answerable to Papal Decree always, never free to live their own lives.  They could bear no children while blessed with the Pontifex’s grace, and while they could take lovers and marry as they chose, they were not immune to shifting from one parish to another. 

The Pontifex wasn’t needlessly harsh, however.  The marriage of one called to the Priesthood, to another Priest or Priestess or a layperson, was a subject of celebration throughout the Church.  All celebrated the event, each village or town adding their own verse to the celebratory hymns.  I found this subject extremely fascinating.

“Are you married Priestess Lilith?”  The words had spilled from my mouth with the sudden and uncontrollable force of vomit.  I immediately clapped my hands over the offending orifice, desperate to retrieve the words I had so carelessly sent forth. 

The bright, silvery laughter of the Priestess rolled out among the hills and barren earth, coating the land with her mirth.

To be continued…

Pontifexfully,
Justin