| abstract | - Not everyone who takes stand against the powers that be for what they believe in exalts as a Solar. Sometimes -- usually in fact -- they just get their ribs kicked in and end up dying in a ditch somewhere, mocked and forgotten. Luckily, what slips through the Unconquered Sun's fingers often ends in the Yozi's grasp. Even from a young age, Silus was different from other people. He wasn't a bad person by any means, but he was always less concerned about right and wrong and more concerned about true and false. He would systematically tear apart the arguments of friends, family, even people he agreed with -- all in a relentless search for the truth. As a young man, he informed his mother with an innocently correcting tone that a pot takes exactly the same length of time to boil whether it's watched or not, something he determined after a series of tests with her cookware. This observation went over considerably better than his later attempt to alert the local abbot to his monks drug-trading habits, or his decision to correct the local priests inaccurate notion that crippling illnesses are caused by sin. After all, he reasoned, he could prove that the priest regularly engaged in activities much more sinful than any of the people in the village with the sickness and was fine, while the sinfulness of many of the sick people could not be verified outside of rumor. The considerable time he spent being punished as he grew up gave him time to think, and his attitude eventually mellowed with age. He became more diplomatic, and in some ways a bit more understanding. But his essential nature never changed. Something that got him into considerable trouble at the young age of 18. A young man who was of age to move away from his family, he found himself in a village not his own, attempting to find work in his chosen vocation. Though he had always been a citizen of the Realm, his home town had never been terribly devout in it's worship of the Immaculate Dragons, something that fit Silus's nature quite well. This new home, however, took their faith seriously -- including the recitations of the oaths every morning, and regular sermons for the townsfolk. Silus wouldn't have survived to the age that he did without learning to bow his head and recite the holy precepts, but he was less skilled at learning to keep his tongue when provoked. In his early days in town, one of the local monks who didn't care for itinerant workers decided to harass him by asking him if his actions weren't against the Immaculate Dragons will -- since his place in the scriptures was in his village, keeping his families land. A less diplomatic soul might have just walked away. A less honest one would have answered "No-" with some justifications to follow. But Silus was in that foolish middle ground where he answered, "Well, yes, but-" His thoughtful, honest explanation of the economic factors that drove him away from home did not soothe the priests bad attitude. Nor did the rest of the conversation, that ended with an irritated Silus walking away, and an angry monk glaring at his steps. In the days that followed, the sermons to the town's people contained more invocations against the migrant laborer population -- accusing them of crimes against man and the gods, of dragging down the town and corrupting it's youth. This culminated in a progrom, sweeping through the poorer sections of town, lead by the rightous priests and scared townsfolk. Many of the itinerants were killed -- most were driven off, but a few (Silus included) were captured to stand trial for their crimes. While a vindictive man at heart, the monk was not bloodthirsty or sadistic, and so the trail took a simple format. Each migrant would have his crimes read aloud, he would confess and beg the Immaculate Dragons forgiveness, and after a lengthily pause, would be "pardoned" to only a series of lashes and given the run out of town. It went fine, until the order got to Silus. Who responded "Not guilty." At first, the monk tried to defeat him with words -- verbal traps, clever arguments, accusations of guilt designed to confuse and stun, the cheering crowd helping him. But his words may as well have fallen upon a granite wall for all they disrupted Silus's calm, the man calmly answering every accusation with fair reasons why he could not possibly have done it. Soon, the crowds jeers became less amused and more bored and angry, rocks and knifes joining the thrown fruit as they demanded the prisoners confession. The monks changed their tactics, delivering a brutal beating and constantly demanding his confession -- a demand he always met with: "But it is not so." Eventually, they crowd grew bored -- the beating had become less righteous and more sadistic. Angered, the monk ordered Silus's broken body tossed into a ditch, and moved her sermon onto other matters. There, away from the crowd, he lay broken and dying, when a demon came upon him. True to her nature, She Who Lives in Her Name sent not the greatest she had, but exactly what was required. It was no mighty devil or awe-inspiring fiend who came upon the young laborer, but a humble Sesseljae, the Bottle Bug demon. It materialized before him and scuttled up to his face, speaking plainly: "The Demon Lord of Truth has seen what has happened here, and has decided you are too valuable to be allowed to die. If you serve him, I am ordered to save your life." "Won't..." Silus managed to respond, weak, blood coming with each breath. "Won't he...turn me into a weapon for evil?" "Dunno." The Sesseljae answered, with a little shrug of it's limbs, not being a demon given to such thoughts. It thought about the bleeding humans problems for a moment, wishing the Forgekeeper had given it more instructions before it went on. "I guess he might. But -- if it's that bad, you can always kill yourself, right? So your not any worse off than you are now. I mean, dying is pretty bad. And if your okay with it, you'll end up with a lot of powers and...magic and stuff." It said, scratching behind it's head with one leg. A pause followed, Silus nodding, the bottle-bug hopping up and down with excitement as it's essence flowed about him, ripping him from Creation into hell. I hope I did good. It thought, as it's gradual transformation to an Unwoven Conjugator began. It had heard that a mortal giving in easily was always either a very good or a very bad sign -- but hard as it wracked it's mind, it couldn't think of a way to tell which this was. As it turned out, it was a good sign. Silus exceeded all expectations, and while he was actually less powerful than many of his peers, quickly earned both the respect of his Yozi and a reputation as an effective problem solver, achieving the rank of First Among Defilers. He did not take place in Malfean politics, but did a great deal to end internal strife between demons -- serving as a mediator of disputes or even permanently ending the lives of Second Circle demons who refused to get with the program. After this long period of "getting his own house in order," he was dispatched to Creation as the Prophet of She Who Lives in Her Name, to create secret cults of her worship and to pave the way for her escape. This has has done ever since, running from city to city, never staying long enough to attract Solar or Dragon Blooded attention. A sizable chunk of every Yozi cult in Creation was ultimately started by him or his minions, though no evidence remains to pin him to these crimes. While in Creation, he met his lunar mate: They met when she and her DB boyfriend were breaking up a Yozi cult, which Silus was sent to defend. They ended up talking it out when Cub's lunar bond kicked in.
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