‘I brought two children to Skarta – bright, lively youngsters with rare talents. And I have seen the deaths of evil men, and know that through their deaths other innocents will know life. And I have prayed constantly about my path, and my deeds, and my future. It seems to me, Father Abbot, that the Source required balance in the world. Hunters and hunted. The weakest calf in the herd is the one to be caught by wolves. Therefore the bloodlines remain strong in the herd. But too many wolves will destroy the herd, so the huntsmen track the wolves, catching the weakest and oldest.
‘How many examples do we need to show that the Source is a God of equity? Why create the eagle and the wolf, the locust and the scorpion? At every turn there is balance. Yet when we see the evil of the Brotherhood at work, and the worshippers of Chaos stain the land, we sit in our tents and ponder the mysteries of the stars. Where is the balance there, Father Abbot?’
‘We seek to teach the world that our values are those to be followed. But if all followed us in celibacy, where would the world be? Mankind would cease.’
‘And there would be no more war,’ said the Abbot. ‘No more greed, lust, despair and sorrow.’
‘Yes. And no love, joy, or contentment.’
‘Are you content, Dardalion?’
‘No. I am heartsick and lost.’
‘And were you content as a priest?’
‘Yes. Sublimely so.’
‘And does not that show where the error lies in your thinking?’
‘It does not – rather it exposes the selfishness of my soul. We seek to be altruistic, for we yearn to be blessed by the Source. But then it is not altruism, nor love, that guides us, but self-interest. We do not spread the message of love for love’s sake, but for our own futures as priests of the Source. You bring comfort to those in pain? How? How can you understand their pain? We are all cerebral men, living apart from the world of reality. Even our deaths are a moral disgrace, for we welcome them as chariot rides to paradise. Where is the sacrifice? The enemy brings us what we desire and we accept death from him as a gift. A gift of Chaos – a stained, bloody, vile gratuity from the Devil himself.’
‘You speak as one who has been stained by Chaos. All that you say is plausible, yet that is the strength of the Chaos Spirit. That is why he was called the Morning Star and is now the Prince of Lies. The gullible devour his promises as he devours them. I have looked inside you, Dardalion, and I find no evil. But your very purity was your downfall, when you allowed yourself to travel with the assassin Waylander. You were too confident in your purity, and the evil of the man overcame you.’
‘I do not see him as evil,’ said Dardalion. ‘Amoral, cruel, but not evil. You are right, though, when you say he affected me. But purity is not a cloak which can be stained in a storm. He merely made me question values I had accepted.’
‘Nonsense!’ snapped the Abbot. ‘He fed you his blood and therefore his soul. And you became one with him, even as he now struggles against the stain you have placed on his evil. You are joined, Dardalion, like symbiotic twins. He struggles to do good, while you struggle to commit evil. Can you not see it? If we listen to you, then our Order is finished, our discipline gone to the winds of the desert. What you ask is selfishness, for you seek safety among the numbers of the Source priests. If we accept you, then we lessen your doubt. We will not accept you.’
‘You speak of selfishness, Father Abbot. Then let me ask you this: if our lives as priests teach us to abhor selfishness, why do we allow the Brotherhood to kill us? For if unselfishness means giving up that which we desire in order to help others, then surely fighting the Brotherhood would achieve it? We do not want to fight, we want to die, therefore when we fight we are being unselfish and helping the innocents who would otherwise be slain.’