3.04 – Reverie
It was an impressively outlandish explanation, and delivered in Ana’s monotone, sohow more impactful, not less. The room stewed in silence for a few monts, digesting the claim.
Liz tittered, high pitched and nervous. “And, like I said, it’s seriously blasphemous to present as if it’s real.”
“I did no such thing.” Ana seed confused by Liz’s reaction. “Natalie asked, and I explained. Though, I would argue there’s insufficient evidence to support any religion. So from a logical perspective, the Reverie-Siphon Hypothesis has as much credibility as anything else.”
Liz shot a panicked look at Natalie, then Sofia and Jordan, as if seeking support.
Natalie sympathized with her concern, even if she didn’t share it. She didn’t much care about what was considered blasphemy or not. Her parents had forced her to church growing up, but she’d never been religious. She accepted the gods in a nominal way; mostly, she didn’t think much about it. Not an unusual practice, these days. The years of Valhaur’s monolithic religious practices had co to an end, or, if not that, at least to their twilight years. Maybe the gods had existed at so point, but if so, they’d been dormant for a long ti.
Which, uh, she supposed would make sense with this outlandish theory. Not that she believed it. It was a little far fetched.
Only finding shrugs and sympathetic looks from her teammates, Liz turned back to Ana. “You really shouldn’t say things like that.”
Ana waved her hand. “It’s what the mural depicts. We need to talk about it.”
“I ant the, ‘the Harvest is as possible as anything else, including our religion’. That’s ridiculous.”
It made sense Liz had more traditional values than Natalie and her friends. She was a mber of the Beaumon family. The literal royal family, even if their titles were antiquated. Tradition and royalty went hand in hand.
“Back it up a few steps,” Natalie said, focusing on the aningful part of the discussion, and also trying to defuse the situation. “Details, please? The Architect harvested our gods to make the System? What does that an, exactly?”
Ana turned to Natalie, still confused from her interactions with Liz, and why Liz had beco uncharacteristically insistent that Ana sanitize what she was saying. The girl was a bit clueless. Even she should be able to recognize why questioning soone’s religion would have them on edge. The only reason Natalie, Sofia, and Jordan didn’t also care was because, frankly, they weren’t religious.
“There’s not much to it,” Ana said. “I’ve already succinctly summarized. And though ancient records are unreliable, there is an interesting amount of evidence that suggests the withdrawal of the gods occurred near the sa ti the system was put into place.”
“This is thousands of years ago,” Natalie said. “There’s records of that?” Never mind the other claims—that the system was ‘put into place’ and hadn’t always existed. She did, as most people, notice how it fit incongruently with other natural laws, and so she adhered to the belief of an ‘Architect’ who designed it, separate to the ‘Maker’ of the natural world, but the tiline and how was questionable to say the least. Even Valhaurian teachings didn’t agree with each other.
“Inconsistent translations, yes,” Ana said, “and partial, but records nonetheless.”
“Emphasis on inconsistent,” Liz said, “and partial.”
“Indeed,” Ana said. “In the sa way many Valhaurian holy texts are doubtful in accuracy and translation.”
She gave the retort in a totally impassive manner, as if this were an academic debate and not sothing Liz clearly held as a personal belief. Natalie grimaced the the continued lack of empathy.
“Regardless,” Ana continued, “the mural depicts it. Thus this topic needs to discussed.”
Natalie edged in before Ana’s frankness caused further problems. “And those seven?” she asked. “The gods above the rest. The Upper Pantheon is made up of ten. So why’re there seven?”
“Those aren’t the Valhaurian Upper Pantheon,” Ana said. “Those are the Passions.”
“The Passions?”
“The Theliosian equivalent of our Upper Pantheon,” Jordan said. Natalie was surprised that she’d only now entered the fray. Usually this sort of thing would be right up Jordan’s alley. She didn’t ‘have an interest in religions’ as Ana claid, but she was generally well inford. “Theliosians worship the gods of emotions above all others, unlike us.”
“Much of the world does,” Ana said. “The Theliosians are far from the only.”
“And the Passions are what?” Natalie asked. “Or who, I guess.”
“In Valhaurian terms?” Ana pursed her lips. “Not all have direct equivalents. Groupings of aspects, nas, lineage—after so much ti, I’m certain no religion has an accurate accounting.”—Liz made a distressed noise, which Ana continued to ignore—“And more to the point, I’m intrigued by these three, who seem to be waking. Why?”
A sudden suspicion hit Natalie. Her stomach sank. “Those three?”
“Rage, Greed, and,” Ana peered at the last of the figures. “Lust.”
Ah.
The dungeon had chosen to depict a mural of the Harvest. A mural in which the goddess of lust was ‘stirring to consciousness’ after a long, supposed-to-be-permanent sleep, which the Architect had organized.
Was it a coincidence? Natalie suddenly rembered the strange circumstances of how she’d been given her class. The Bestower’s words, the nature of her class in general. Combined with this?
Natalie felt vaguely nauseous. Then again, maybe it wasn’t warranted. Who said this ant anything? It was a puzzle fabricated by the dungeon; it had zero guarantees of accuracy. Even Ana, who apparently ‘had an interest in religions’, talked about the Reverie in removed terms, not convinced at the theory’s accuracy.
Still, she shared a look with Jordan, whose eyebrows were raised. She’d patched together the implications. How Natalie’s class might relate to this.
“I wonder why it’s showing us this,” Natalie said. “And why three are waking.”
“The dungeon presents puzzles aligned to its delvers,” Ana said, making Natalie’s heart jump. The follow-up cald her. “Thus, I have to assu, this one was given to , because of my interest in the subject.”
Probably not presented to her alone. Both of them. Ana, for her theological knowledge, and Natalie for … another potential reason. Though she had no guarantees.
She itched to question Ana, but she didn’t want to draw suspicion. She’d talk with Jordan about it later. Look more into this ‘Reverie-Siphon Hypothesis’ on her own ti. The details of her class might get out, eventually, and Natalie showing too much interest in this mural could be suspicious.
Because she didn’t trust Ana. Not that she distrusted her, but certainly not trust. The sa to Liz, for all she was easy to get along with. Natalie didn’t think of herself as suspicious by nature, but she didn’t go blindly trusting people she’d known for only a week. Especially politicians, as most Tenet students were.
They stood in silence, Ana, and the rest of them, inspecting the mural. The seven pillars, buttons on top of each, were clearly how the puzzle was ant to be solved. But what was it asking? Did they get one chance, one button press?
If so, though she didn’t know the full logic of the puzzle, Natalie suspected which they should start with. Even if none of this was guaranteed to be built on a factual basis, it couldn’t be coincidence this had been shown to her, and that ‘Lust’ was one of the figures waking.
So. The first button press seed obvious.
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