Fall from grace Or: You'd better all hope Constantine does not go Goth, cuz ther'll be more of this coming if he does. . .

People need certainties.

They need to have faith that at the end of a hard day of work, they
will be fed, or paid for their trouble.

They need to know that their work is worth something. That the furrows
they plow will be planted with seeds, which will grow to feed the
people.

They need to know that there is meaning in their life.

They need to know that there is a reason to get out of bed in the
morning.

Some people have lots of small certainties, tiny articles of faith. A
village to please. A litany of minor saints they are sure are watching
their every action, hopefully with approval. A thousand rituals they
have concocted to make them feel happy throughout their day. A short
prayer at dawn. A nod to this shrine every time a thread almost slips
on the loom, to that one every time you don't quite nick yourself
chopping vegetables.

Some people have fewer certainties, but larger ones. That caring for
their family is necessary, and right. That their magistrate is just,
and honest. That their priest is pure, and good.

I have only ever had one, big enough that I needed no other. Ariad is
all that is good. All that flows from him is good, and all that is
good flows from him.

The priesthood flows from him. and so the priesthood is good.

The empire flows from him, and is blessed by him, and so it is good.

The watch flows from the empire, which flows from Ariad, and so it is
good.

I flow from Ariad, and my strength flows from Ariad, and my visions
flow from Ariad, and I am blessed of him, and so I am good.

My life has meaning, and it is his meaning. And so I rise from my bed
each morning. And this too is good.

But Ariad is a lie. A sham. A smokescreen for evil men to blind the
people with, and gain power for themselves.

There is no Ariad. And there never has been.

And it is not good.

I am empty, I am without foundation.

I am crumbling inside.



I am not strong enough to go on by myself. Not strong enough to live
alone, under the weight of this lie that was all that I am.

I can feel myself dying. And for the first time in my life, I am
afraid of it. For the first time I do not know what awaits me.

I do not know anything.

There are no certainties.

In my heart, there is no faith.