Chapter 3
The next morning, having rested up from the exhausting day, Wilfred got up and went to the library, where he perused the amazing book collection. Trying to focus on his narrow time limit, he limited himself to the ancient history texts that would give him the answer he needed to complete his thesis. Finally, a dusty manuscript held the answers he was looking for. He paused before he opened the page to read.
The book was written in a labored hand, in one of the finest examples of Old Secfenian script still existing in the world. Wilfred, in his best southpaw script, tried to copy the pertinent quotes by hand so that his advisors could not criticize him for making up his sources. He spent hours copying the book as thorougly as possible, because no one outside of a handful of human beings had ever seen this book, as evidenced by the dusty that made him cough and sneeze. It was well worth the secrets the manuscript held, though, and Wilfred was completely enraptured by the text.
The manuscript said exactly what he was hoping for. The earliest human beings had been judged for their lives by the Creator. Those that were not total failures were given the chance to become the mages. The mages had been given longer lives and the opportunity to serve as the human representatives of God. Whenever the extended lives of the mages came near its end, the mages chose as their replacements clergy who best approximated their temperament, and then brought the new mage their to learn how to channel the power and handle the responsibility of the position. The new mage took on the name and responsibility of the old mage once the old mage died.
This system had worked remarkably well since the beginning of human existence. The question that Wilfred had was why the mages had to be so secretive about it. If human beings understood the mages and their power and their role as the representatives of God on earth (though not deities themselves) then maybe they could get rid of their foolish superstitions and worship God rather than men. It was time that people acted intelligently about religion and followed the holy texts rather than the lies of ignorant clerics who sought power and authority for themselves. As a reformist cleric-to-be, Wilfred wanted the religion to be as pure as possible, rather than be filled with lies and corruption. The position of minister of God on earth was one of high responsibility, and meant a large sacrifice on the part of anyone interested in the position. At least the clerics could marry, else only perverts or hypocrites would join such a clergy.
While Wilfred was writing and finishing up his thesis, his bored observers standing just outside the library were bored out of their minds. As their boring task had lasted quite a while at this point, the two of them started to kvetch to each other. Wilfred was so enraptured by the text that he was not hearing them as they spoke.
"I cannot believe this guy is so boring. Doesn't he do anything interesting?" the first one said.
"He's a cleric. Since when have clerics been interesting?" the second one said.
"I had a cleric try to sleep with my sister once. My sister was a slut anyway, so I figured why not," the first one said.
"Really. At least it wasn't your brother," the second one said.
"That's true. I would change churches if my cleric was a fudgepacker though," the first one said.
"I agree, I would go out of my way to avoid having a pervert as my cleric. Let God judge them for their sins. I would not support such a minister myself," the second one said.
"Let's change the subject," the first one said.
"I agree," the second one said.
"What should we talk about?" the first one said.
"How about how bored we are trying to follow this guy around," the second one said.
"We tried that already, and it ended up getting us talking about faggoty ministers," the first one said.
"Oh, right. How about talking about sports," the second one said.
"That's usually a much safer topic than religion," the first one said.
"I agree," the second one said.
"How have you been doing in the bush leagues?" the first one asked.
"Not too bad. Hopefully I'll get called up to the big leagues soon," the second one said.
"At least you'll get to move into a nicer place then, instead of your shack," the first one said.
"That's true, but don't you still live in a shack?" the second one queried.
"At least my shack is clean. You live like a pig," the first one said.
"I don't have an old lady around to clean up my mess like you do, but when I get my big league contract I'm sure the ladies will flock after me," the second one said.
"Yeah, until you get drunk or start spitting your chewing tobacco," the first one said.
"How is that a problem?" the second one asked.
"Never mind, you're too much of a dumb hick to know the truth about the dangers of tobacco," the first one said.
"You're a dumb hick too, or else you would have a better job than chasing around some boring cleric," the second one angrily replied.
"The economy's bad. I couldn't work as a programmer anymore, all the technology businesses have laid off workers thanks to the longstanding war with the evil empire," the first one replied.
"So you've got a lame excuse," the second one said.
At this point the representative of the clerics came up to the two spies and got angry with them.
"You're arguing so loudly that the cleric can probably hear you," the representative said.
"He's too busy staring at books," the first one said.
"Yeah, he's just looking at some old dusty manuscript and writing down stuff," the second one said. "Who's interested in books anyway?"
"Books are good if you want to learn about things. I guess you wouldn't know much about learning though," the first one said.
"Yeah, I bet you studied lots of books when you wanted to be a programmer, and look where it got you, following around some cleric," the second one said.
"Will you two cut it out! You fight like you're brothers or something. If this guy is studying the old history books like I think he is, the mages want to talk with him," the representative said.
"Wow, the mages usually don't want to talk to anyone," the first one said.
"Yeah, this guy must be in some kind of deep trouble," the second one said.
"No, it's just that he is writing a thesis about the mages, and the mages want to make sure he is not going to put them in a bad light," the representative said.
"Even mages need spin doctors. That is crazy. You think of all people that the mages would be able to handle criticism without getting bruised egos. Do the mages have an official psychoanalyst too?" the second one said sarcastically.
"I wouldn't put it past them, as well as having their own private legal counsel so they could sue people who said bad things about them," the first one replied.
"Alright, you two are dismissed, go back to your shacks, you dumb hicks," the representative said.
"What a prick," the two said in unison as they walked away.
Just then Wilfred walked out of the library, and the two spies stopped and turned around to see the cleric. Wilfred gave a wry smile to the two of them.
"You two sound like Bravians," he said.
"We are not Bravians," they replied in unison. "How could you insult us like that?"
"Because I am a Bravian myself, from the countryside no less," Wilfred said bluntly in reply.
"Great, how many more hicks do we have to have in this palace. This is supposed to be a great palace, not a flea market for trailer trash," the representative said.
"Not all Bravians are hicks," Wilfred replied.
"Not this again. I am here to bring you to the mages. They want to talk to you about your work," the representative said.
"Why are the mages so curious about my work?" Wilfred replied.
"The only reason you would have to risk a dangerous visit to this library is to get books on the history of the mages, so they want to see what you have to say about them," the representative said.
"Let's go then," Wilfred said, a little tiredly.
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