Short Story: The Lorekeeper

The purge was all but complete. Necks in the noose, highborn necks. 

The reckoning was harsh, with the mob as judge, jury and executioner. Any member of the nobility who did not flee in time was caught in the chaos.Their allies slunk back into the shadows.But people talk and gleefully throw others into the fire to save their own lives.The prisons stayed full, despite the innocent being released. There were too many accusations, not enough justices to verify each and every one. 

I'm sure there were cases of human error. Money still ensured a stay of execution, a short one, at least. Cries of foul play and favoritism, and lists of reasons and justifications. In some ways, life did not change from one regime to the next.

I could have fled with the others, but chose to remain. Why? I stayed to simply record what happened for posterity. Too many secrets harbored too long in the shadows. That was how the old order lasted for as long as it had. Once the floodgates opened, truth came forth. 

It would be only a matter of time before they slammed those floodgates closed again and threw away the key. I'd seen it time and time again, over years. After all, an informed populace was a powerful one. No leader, no matter how benevolent, could have their every decision constantly questioned. Nothing would get done, in that case.

There were good kings and bad tyrants. Incompetent viziers and stalwart protectors. History spawned noble warriors and evil despots. It was the cycle of mortal existence. The only difference between this and say, the Fae or the Hells, is that Time culled everyone. The Good and the Bad eventually died out and other players took the stage. It gave the mortal realm a sense of fleeting impermanence. 

That was the catalyst of growth and change. Nothing remained stagnant, but the same themes repeated themselves, again and again, with new protagonists for every story. In my experience, the lack of change gave way to apathy and sloth. The same old stories with the same cast, the same cliches, the same lessons learned, the same predictable endings.

That was why history remains stagnant for long stretches of time for the Immortals. They become too comfortable with their stations. Ennui breeds indifference and a hostile resistance to any perceived threat. And so the cycle continues, just far, far more slowly for them.

In the mortal realm, the Wheel spins so much faster. The chaos is more compact, more obvious, and more devastating in the short term. Those who indulge in the present give no damn about the future, for they know they won't be around to see the consequences. 

They might believe they'd get away with it, but only if their secrets die with them. 

And so, we come to my purpose, why I chose to stay, despite it all. I simply told them that someone needed to tell their stories. Immortalize their fleeting lives in a way that made them live forever. If there is one predictable outcome, it's how mortal pride overrides their common sense.

They allowed me to live so others might be humbled. I wrote the words with their devils looking over my shoulder, their eyes frantically scanning the letters for any sign of betrayal. I carefully crafted the tales for their approval. The truth I reserved for my own archive, quietly open for all. I did not have to advertise, but it was free for those who knew how to look.

I am a storyteller; that is my profession. I tell stories with heroes and villains, plots and themes, triumphs and tragedies. I am also a Lorekeeper. I record history as it happens, the Lore of the World, the rise and fall of civilizations. Events immutable, consequences apparent only when one takes the long view. It is the story of the Universe, one difficult to read, much less comprehend or accept, with mortal minds. That is the impartial Judge. The Jury comes much later, at the End of All Things.

The Executioner will eventually come for me, for I am bound by Time just like anyone else mortal. I accept this fate; I am no greater and no less than those who came before me. What brings me comfort with this Truth?

That my words are eternal, even if hidden for a very long time.