Aren't Atonements... incredibly expensive? That's what Poet Rosselló said, anyways, that they should rely on good deeds rather than spells to save them. (Most of them hadn't even known they existed at all, until the Poet mentioned it.)

Good, they're already familiar with the general concept. Most people in villages that haven't heard of them don't trust the idea, and none of his spells are nearly as profitable as the prospect of escaping Hell.

The Poet was a Shelynite, correct? Of course it would be expensive if he was the one casting it. Shelyn is Neutral Good, and most of Cheliax is Lawful Evil; to go from Lawful Evil to Neutral Good in a single hour is a difficult thing, even for a god. But Abadar is Lawful Neutral, and rendering someone worthy of His realm in Axis is far easier.

Carme wants to know why he's wearing a key. She always thought Abadarans had the criss-crossed lines. Is he sure he's an Abadaran.

Sebastià thinks she's an idiot. The Poet explained that part, lots of gods have multiple symbols, the lines are popular in Osirion but not everywhere. The lines are kind of ugly anyway.

Carme is grudgingly willing to concede that he's right but he doesn't have to be so stuck-up about it. 

Sebastià thinks he's entirely right to be "stuck-up" about it.

Carles doesn't think she's being unreasonable. It's understandable to want to check, after Asmodeus left them all so mistrustful, and it's hardly her fault she doesn't have every symbol of every god memorized — though of course, it speaks well of Sebastià that he was paying such close attention to the Poet.

...Can he do the thing where he heals everyone? The Good priests can do that. It's pretty great. They'd pay a lot for it.

Carles winces. He's a Neutral priest, see, and there are Neutral priests that can do healing, but Abadar gives His priests whatever sells best, and channeling negative is very profitable for mercenaries. He regrets the inconvenience to them, but not very much, he made a living for years selling negative channels.

Carme thinks that sounds kind of suspicious.

He understands her misgivings and doesn't fault her for them. If she'd prefer to redeem herself from a lifetime of service to Hell with good deeds, Abadar would never tell her to purchase something she doesn't actually want.

Why does Abadar even care if they go to Hell?

Abadar would rather they go to His realm in Axis! The more people are in His realm, the richer his city will be. ...Also, it makes Him happy when His priests sell people things they want. Many of his priests got their start as merchants, and it's not that Abadar inherently cares about silks or spices or furs, but he rejoices to see coin exchange hands.

...Yeah, speaking of that, how much is he charging?

It depends on the person. The materials for the spell are more expensive the more Evil Abadar needs to cleanse them of, though regardless it'll be nowhere near as expensive as it would be for a priest of Shelyn to bring them all to Neutral Good. He's happy to do an initial consultation for a much smaller fee, where they describe to him the sorts of Evil they've done and he'll estimate how much it'll cost them. (He's willing to take responsibility for the difference if he ends up requiring more materials than he expected, so long as they don't intentionally deceive him about their history.)

The people of Siurana are still not totally sure about this whole Atonement business. 

If they would rather purchase other services from him, he's also happy to sell clean water and Mending much more cheaply, since he can do those as many times as he wants. He's planning to stay about a week, though he might leave early if there's not much interest in his services, or linger if they're selling especially well.

Some of them will purchase those services from him, then. (Does he do laundry? The baron had their laundry wizard executed for promoting diabolism. To be fair he was in fact promoting diabolism, he was their schoolteacher, but it would be nice if they had someone else to do the laundry.)

Priests don't get the laundry-spell, unfortunately.

Carme thinks this is suspicious.

Everyone else thinks this is completely reasonable. The fields-priest and the sword-priest and the Poet couldn't cast the laundry spell either.

He sells the first casting for much less than he normally charges. Word spreads quickly, in this sort of village. Once someone's in the door for a consultation they're much less likely to just back out of it, and the easiest way to get them through the door is to make them think it won't be all that pricey. 

(And, of course, once people have heard how much he charged her, no one will want to admit he charged them much more, not when it would suggest their misdeeds are so much worse than hers.)

Penèlope doesn't really trust him. Even having heard it from the Poet, it feels absurd to think that a spell could have anything to do with how Pharasma judges your past.

But it feels even more absurd to think that a life of ordinary vague kindness could make up for everything she's done.

One of her friends pays for an Atonement, and she tells Penèlope afterwards that she could feel the weight of everything she'd done being lifted from her shoulders.

Penèlope is still not really sure she trusts him, but if there's even a chance it'll save her from Hell, it's worth it.

"Here for a consultation, I presume? It's a pleasure to meet you. Go on, have a seat, make yourself comfortable."

She sits down. Hands over the consulting fee. Tries to shake off the feeling that he'll hear everything she's done and decide that Abadar could never possibly want someone like her.

He smiles gently at her. "I'm afraid I haven't caught your name yet."

"Penèlope. I live out near the big rock that looks like a face."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Penèlope," he repeats. "This consultation is mainly to help us get a better sense of what evils you need to be redeemed of. To that end, it's very important that you be honest with me, alright? If you aren't fully honest during the actual spell, it won't work."

Nod. It feels a little like the floor is falling out from underneath her but that's stupid and pathetic so she ignores it.

"Why don't you start by describing, in broad terms, what sorts of Evils you're trying to make up for?"

"Diabolism, obviously. Blasphemy against the Good gods. Spreading the teachings of Asmodeus — my husband was the schoolteacher here, I helped him with the lessons sometimes." Swallow. "Trying to persuade my husband to run away with me, when I realized they were probably going to have him killed." It doesn't really matter if she gets killed for that, as long as he casts the spell first. "Neglecting my appearance. Using the paper money. Not helping my neighbors even when I thought they might starve. Spreading lies about another woman that I thought my husband might be into. Harming animals for fun." She really doesn't understand why the last few are Evil but they were in the sword-priest's sermon.

He's taking notes. "Is that everything?"

"It's everything I can think of."

He frowns softly. "You say your husband was a teacher, and that you helped him with the lessons. Did you never help him with the punishments?"

"—Is that Evil?" How else are you supposed to keep order in the classroom?

Carles gives her a look of faint disappointment. "Is it Evil to have a child whipped for failing to live up to the demands of Asmodeus? For failing to understand Asmodeus's teachings, or rejecting them outright?"

He places a hand on her shoulder. "I'm worried about you, Penèlope. I want to help you. Abadar wants to help you. But I am worried that you've given yourself over so fully to Asmodeus that the Atonement won't work — not because you're too far gone for Abadar to help you, no one is too far gone for that, but because you've done great Evils that you won't even think to repent of."

"I don't really know how I'd avoid that, Fiducia."

"Would you like me to talk you through common sorts of Evils, that some people in Cheliax don't realize are Evil? I can't guarantee I'll think of everything you've done, but I think it can only help to consider them."

She is not really sure how even a Neutral god can forgive someone like her but it's not like the fate of her eternal soul can possibly get worse. "Yes. Please."

"Forcing a woman to lie with you. Suicide — or attempted suicide, I presume you have not returned from the dead. Self-mutilation."

"What's — included, in that?"

"If it would be wrong to do to another like you, it is no less wrong to do to yourself. Certainly anything that left you with permanent injuries, even scars, would qualify."

"How else are you supposed to make yourself do things you don't want to, sir?"

Again, there's that disappointed expression. "Penèlope, are you trying to make excuses? Abadar won't be able to help you if you can't even admit that what you did was wrong."

"—Of course it was wrong, sir, I'm just confused about what I was supposed to do instead. I don't want to waste Abadar's blessing." If she can even receive it at all, which she's not feeling very sure of.

"Good and Neutral people typically cultivate habits of self-discipline, so that they don't need to resort to such Evil deeds."

That doesn't really help but maybe just because she's Evil. She hasn't done much of that sort of thing since she left school, anyways, apart from right after her husband was executed. "...What else?"

"Offenses against the righteous gods. You spoke of blasphemy, earlier, but that is far from the only way one can offend the gods." He hesitates. "—Before I list examples, I want you to try to think of some on your own, so that I can take a guess at whether you're starting to understand the gravity of what you've done well enough for the Atonement to work."

She desperately does not want to answer this, not when it might prove she's too Evil to be redeemed, but if she doesn't answer it's basically the same as giving up on not being awful. "I mentioned neglecting my appearance already, and diabolism.

I've wronged Erastil by thinking myself better than the serfs. I've wronged Cayden by preferring my wine very watered down, as much as possible without getting sick. I sometimes get upset at Sebastià for singing while he works, but his singing is terrible, so I don't know if I'm the one offending against Shelyn or he is. —I'm not making excuses, I genuinely don't know."

"I think you have offended against Shelyn, in that, but not gravely. It would not damn someone on its own. But all our arts are nothing compared to the works of Shelyn, and She loves them anyway, so for the sake of your soul I think you should try to turn away from your anger at him."

She doesn't really have any idea how to do that but she can try. "I've... wronged Desna by wishing not to have nightmares anymore? That's all I can think of."

He nods. "I think you are starting to recognize the Evil in yourself. I expect Abadar will be able to help you.

Do you think those are all your offenses against the righteous gods, or would you like me to guide you through others you may have committed?"

"You should probably go through the rest of them."

"It is an offense against Desna to harm a traveler or a guest, or to destroy a road or bridge. It is an offense against Iomedae to flee from battle, or to break a righteous oath, or to fail to strike down the Evil within our hearts — I think you are already repenting of that. It is an offense against the Everlight to be driven to wrath or revenge against another who has wronged us."

"...Does it count if they're an Asmodean priest?"

"It is said that in the earliest days of Creation, the Everlight worked with Asmodeus Himself to seal away the World-Eater."

Penèlope is not really sure how anyone ever manages not to be damned but the sword-priest made it clear that that's heresy. Maybe if she just never does anything after the Atonement she'll be okay. "I have done a lot of that."

"Many of the Neutral gods are also righteous, and offenses against them are likewise Evil.

It is a great offense against Pharasma to create undead, or to benefit from their labor. It is an offense against Gozreh to despoil nature, or to refuse to eat the flesh of animals or the fruits of plants."

"I've done that. ...Despoiling nature, not refusing to eat animals or fruit." Is that a thing people do?

"It is an offense against Irori to rely on others, or to abandon self-perfection, or to give yourself over to your impulses, or to refuse to take pride in your achievements."

"What counts as — giving yourself over to your impulses?"

"It is different for every person. No two people are tempted in the exact same ways. But some of the most common are drunkenness, lust, violence... in your case, perhaps self-mutilation..."

Is it sinful to have sex. "I've probably given myself over to lust. With my husband, and with other men." 

"May I ask whether you have ever killed your child, born or unborn?"

"No." She'd have mentioned it. The sword-priest made it very clear that was Evil.

He is giving her some sort of look. "There are many Evils parents do unwittingly to their children. Would you like me to list them?"

"I don't have any children."

"You must be very lucky, to tell me in one breath of how often you've given yourself over to lust and in the next to tell me you have never become pregnant off it."

"—It was always my husband who killed them. He had a spell for it, he said their spirits would be less likely to rise again than if I smothered them." She hadn't wanted him to. But he said they couldn't afford to care for them, not until he'd paid off his debt, and he wasn't wrong, they didn't know then what would happen to the paper.

"Pharasma teaches us that one of the most sacred obligations is that of a mother to her child. Do you think she will hold you blameless merely because it was your husband who technically did the deed?"

"How many children have you killed, Penèlope?"

"Three."

He runs his hand through his hair, giving her an inscrutable look.

"Will Abadar still be able to—"

"There is very little that it is impossible for him to cleanse. But it will take a great deal of power for him to wipe three murders from your soul, and that will of course make the materials more expensive."

There is no chance at all she can make up for killing three children merely with good deeds.

"Is there anything else I might need to repent of, sir?"

"Among the righteous gods, there are also offenses against Abadar. 

Some people think that Abadar will not forgive them, if they speak of such things, but those people are mistaken. He cannot forgive you, if you hide such things from his sight, but if you cast aside those offenses against him, he can wash them away like any other, albeit requiring a bit more of his power. Do you understand?"

Nod. She is not entirely sure she could answer out loud.

"Theft. Charging unfairly high prices, or offering merchants unfairly low prices. Usury. Gambling. Deceptive contracts."

Her mouth is dry. "...Does it still count as theft if no one owned it, exactly?"

"You will need to be more specific."

"After the schools closed, and my husband was executed, I took the books from the schoolhouse, apart from the Evil books, and sold them to a merchant who was passing through."

"Who owns the schoolhouse, Penèlope?"

"The Crown. I think."

"To be sure I'm understanding you right, you are asking me whether it is wrong to steal from the Queen who liberated Cheliax from Hell?"

It's not like anyone was using them.

Probably that only feels relevant because of how Evil she is.

"I'm sorry."

"Guilt alone will not undo your crimes, Penèlope. How much did you steal?"

She quotes him the price she got from the merchant. She thinks he might have been cheating her but it's not like she had anyone else to sell to.

He looks faintly disgusted.

"I have also tried to offer merchants less than their goods were really worth. And gambled, when I was younger."

"Is that everything?"

It's everything she can think of but she keeps learning that new things she did were Evil. "Yes."

His face softens. "I hope for your own sake that you are telling the truth."

"How much will I need to pay, sir?"

He names a price. It is barely within the realm of what she can possibly afford, if she spends down all her savings.

Much more than her friend paid, but maybe she's just unusually awful.

If it keeps her out of Hell — and it's the only thing that can keep her out of Hell — it's obviously worth it. "Do you have an opening today, sir?"

He smiles. He'd honestly been expecting her to negotiate him down, but he's hardly going to complain. "I do."

She returns with the money that afternoon.

He lights a stick of incense, and prays to Abadar, and then asks her to repeat every transgression she mentioned during the consultation. He has a list written down, in case she's forgotten them. She recites her misdeeds and leans into the sinking feeling in her stomach and wonders how Abadar could ever want her in His realm.

When she finishes, he takes her hands in his.

"Holy Abadar, Penèlope has forsaken You and all the righteous gods and turned towards darkness. But now she seeks to set aside this Evil and join you in Your realm in Axis. I entreat you to see her as one of Your own, wiping away the taint of the past until none remains. Let her soul shine henceforth with the light of Lawful Neutrality."

He drops her hands and takes his holy symbol in his left hand. Through the window, the light glints off the brilliant blue stone (or perhaps metal, given how brightly it's shining) of his ring. He recites words of power, and performs a few gestures, and touches her gently on the shoulder.

"Abadar has cleansed you," he says.

She feels brave, and whole, and healthy. She can barely explain it. It would have been unfathomable a few moments ago. She hadn't been sure what to think, when her friend told her about the weight of her wrongs being lifted, but now she knows exactly what they mean.

"Thank you," she says.

She leaves with a light heart and a light step, sure of her place in Axis.

Carles's spells sell unusually well in Siurana. He stays a little longer than a week, until he's satisfied he's squeezed as much money from it as he can, and then heads to the next village on his list.

On his left hand, set into an extraordinary well-crafted ring, an azure coin with etchings too fine for almost anyone to see catches the rays of the sun.

It's amazing what people will pay if you tell them it'll get them out of Hell.