Chapter 2: Against Itself
Cub nonchalantly scattered the blood thistle seeds along the sheltered wall of the Temple of Order. Within those walls pooled the product of the Chaos Font. Access to the pool was restricted only to those high-ranking officials of the military and government. The conquerers had taken the resource for themselves and denied the native Caltrionians access to what had once been an integral part of their society.
The Font was the reason for the the colonization of Caltronia. Relatively few inhabitable worlds boasted a Chaos Fountain even in the Ordered planes. The temple housed the largest of the many small Fountains on Caltronia and was the reason this city, New Caltronia, was chosen as the location of the capital. The Disorder in the matter it touched was washed away, concentrating the remaining Ordered matter. Proximity to the Fountain slowed aging and made disease unheard of for all the creatures near it. Even the plants and minerals were fortified by exposure to the stream of Disorder that flowed from the Font. Functionally, it brought out the greatest potential of all it purified.
As fantastic as the effects of proximity to the Fountain were, bathing one's body in the Fountain was exponentially more effective. For any who had the privilege, inhuman strength, bolstered mental faculties, and, in rare cases, unnatural abilities were possible. These effects scaled with time spent in the Fountain. In the case of his 'Uncle', Silas Drag, no more benefit could be gained from time in a Font this small. He was likely the purest, most Ordered individual in this star sector, let alone Caltronia. Tales of his power were legend. None more so than the tale of his subjugation of the Beast King, strongest of the native Caltronian warriors.
Before the war and subsequent colonization, Caltronians had formed nomadic bands. Migrating between Fountains and sharing the benefit of their effects equally. Warriors made pilgrimages to the largest Fountain, the very one now walled off within the temple, and competed for the title of strongest under the watchful eyes of the council of Elders.
Cub shook off thoughts of the past. The strongest, Claw, was long dead and the rest of the warriors either killed or shackled for breeding. Several of the children in the House of Drag were half-Caltronian. His kin. The present was what mattered right then. Cub delicately harvested the blood thistle into a sac that he tucked into the folds of the blanket he carried.
He had been tending this patch of blood thistle in this manner for years. He and Catkin could get three crops per year by planting, tending, and harvesting during the weekly House supper on the Temple grounds. Each generation more pure and potent grown at this distance from the Fountain. He had just harvested their fifteenth crop. It was as powerful as it could be without being grown in the ground of the Font itself. He said a brief prayer to his father that it was enough.
Cub rounded the corner and returned to the pavilion that housed the House dinners. Most of the high-ranking Houses were on a rotating schedule for the honor of supping at the Temple. The honor came with an opportunity for all House members to pass through the Temple's inner courtyard, immediately above the Font itself. Such an opportunity to pass so close to the Fountain could markedly improve vigor, ensure healthy development of unborn or young children, and improve clarity and cognition. A Greater House may expect to dine at the Temple once a month. Lesser Houses were lucky if they dined there once per season. By contrast, the House of Drag supped at the Temple every week. The distinction being shared only with the Governor's House.
Cub walked quickly and took his seat at the head table, stowing the blanket and its toxic secret in his cart with the rest of the things being caretaker to twelve children of 'high' birth required. Silas stood from his seat and the pavilion fell silent at once. His voice rang out like with a timbre and character Cub had never heard before; even from the Elders of his people who had been the most Ordered he had met. Cub supposed Knight Drag had had a distinctly fine voice before Chaos Fountains had further enhanced his natural attributes. As much as Cub hated Silas, he would miss his voice.
The speech was concise, as was the man's preference, and at its end the attendees were free to partake of the food that heaped platters set regularly down the long, wooden tables. Cub swiftly served his charges. He took a moment to ensure that the two smallest children, Elias and Jean got a little extra meat and larger pats of butter on their bread. He didn't know which was which, but one of them was his nephew and the other his brother. The names of his mother and sister were proudly emblazoned on the children's pedigrees. They had both been captured at the end of the war, crippled, and used as breeding stock. Cub didn't know where they were now or if they even lived. Part of him hoped that they were dead.
"They giving you any trouble these days?"
The velvet voice raised the hairs on Cub's neck. He lowered his gaze and answered, "No, sir!".
"Come, now. You can tell your Uncle the truth." Silas grabbed Cub's chin with his hand and raised it until their eyes met.
Cub's mind went blank as his heart began to hammer in his chest. 'Can he hear lies as the stories say?', Cub thought. It took only a moment for his thoughts to restart. "No more trouble than healthy, strong-willed children should give their caretakers, sir.", he responded, hoping the delay had not been construed poorly. Cub was disgusted with himself, cowering like a rabbit. Silas' fingers felt like warm liquid and cold steel at the same time. Silas was so Pure, Cub imagined he could feel the light of the Font being cast from the man himself.
"You are humble and honest. Talented and hard-working. Rare qualities all, particularly as a set." Silas' words were like a calculated assessment and did not carry any of the warmth of praise. He left then, hand gone from Cub's chin as quickly as it arrived; snapping back to his side imperceptibly.
Cub shivered and resisted the urge to hug himself. He put half his mind to tending the children, while the other half practiced the motions of preparing blood thistle draught.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone