Victòria is supposed to be meeting Desnia here, but Desnia hasn't arrived yet and she doesn't actually have any idea when she will. She already topped up all the cisterns, and she doesn't have anything else to do while she waits, so now she's hanging out in the temple, staring at a brightly-colored painting of some sort of cat and looking vaguely unhappy.

"Not a cat fan?"

Blink. "—No, the cat's fine, there's nothing wrong with the cat."

"Well, it sure looks like something's on your mind."

"Mostly just convention stuff, I guess. ...On Rights we brought in a paladin from Lastwall to ask some questions and he — didn't really understand how people work outside Lastwall. And then he got annoyed at me for telling him he was wrong."

"I haven't met any of the paladins yet, what didn't he understand?"

"He was trying to explain a different point, and self-defense came up, and he was saying — if someone attacks you for no good reason, and they want to hurt you really badly, he thought your soul's natural first instinct was going to be — telling you not to hurt them, even more than wanting to make them stop attacking you. He had a bigger point but that part was... obviously wrong... so I kind of got distracted from the bigger point."

"Different souls've got different instincts, I'd imagine, or the world wouldn't look as it does."

"If he'd said there's some people like that it wouldn't have been obviously wrong, there's probably millions of people in the world, lots of them probably have holes in their conscience. And obviously some people are scared they'll get hurt worse if they do anything, or things like that, but that's not the same thing as — thinking the most important thing is making sure the person attacking you doesn't get hurt."

"Well, you know, I think my instinct would be to run away, but if I had a moment to think - I know where I'm going so really if someone attacks me they're putting themselves in much greater danger than they are me."

"If the first thing your soul tells you is to run away that's not surprising, if you can pull it off that's one way to stop them from attacking you." Victòria doesn't think it'd be her first instinct but it's still pretty different from what the paladin was saying.

"And — it's not like getting killed's the only way someone can hurt you. When he said it the first thing that came to mind was a man trying to force himself on a woman, where it doesn't really help if you're Good. But either way, it seems like if they don't want to risk their victim fighting back, they could just not attack innocent people for no reason, you know?

But I also think — maybe sometimes there's situations where it's complicated what the right thing to do is, like maybe an Evil wizard is making someone attack you, and it's not actually that person's fault, but — I think for most people, their soul's first instinct is still going to be, 'no, stop, I need to make this stop,' even if it's a situation where the right answer's complicated."

"Maybe we should try asking a bunch of people, except I'm not sure how much most are in touch with their instincts when they're answering surveys."

Nod. "And I don't think he'd listen, even if every single one of them said he was wrong, he'd just... try to say it was because they were Evil, or something."

"Is it possible he just misspoke or something?"

"I think if he'd just misspoke he'd've explained what he really meant when I explained why he was wrong."

"Huh. Well, I wasn't there so I haven't got a lot of material to guess with."

"My best guess is — he's from Lastwall, almost everyone is Good in Lastwall, if people there hardly ever try to hurt each other he might just not know how most people'd feel about it."

"Maybe he thinks that's how you tell what an undamaged soul's instinct is, by raising them somewhere Good."

"I don't think it makes me damaged, that if someone's trying to hurt me for no reason I want to stop them."

"Well, stopping them's not the same as hurting them."

"I know that. Sometimes the safest thing is to run." She doesn't like it, but it's not like it would help anything if a twelve-year-old girl tried to face down a grown man with a weapon.

"But I think — I guess I could be wrong about this, now that I think about it I'm not as sure of it as I was that the paladin was wrong — I think for most people, the first moment after someone starts hurting them, their soul is just going to be screaming for it to stop, no matter what that means, and whether or not to hurt them is later."

Maybe that wouldn't be true for her anymore? She's not sure. She'd obviously want to hurt anyone who was trying to attack her, if she could manage it, but in that first desperate moment she doesn't know if that's what her soul would reach for.

"Hmm. I think it's, you know, sort of interesting to think about what our souls would do first, but - that's not the same thing as what we actually choose to do, which is what really matters."

Nod. "I think probably it depends? I assume the paladin'd also say it depends, you'd have to be really stupid to think a little girl with no chance of fighting anyone off should do the same as someone who's already been trapped somewhere they couldn't run if they tried."

"If you want to call it 'stupid', I guess - I'm not sure everyone thinks as much about this as you!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean — if you just haven't thought about it I'm not saying that's stupid. I don't think you're stupid, or anything, I'm sure there's lots of things I've never thought about. I used to teach girls back home how to defend themselves, it's the sort of thing that was important to think about for that."

"Oh, that makes sense. You'd need to know something about what reflexes they have to train them on top of that."

Nod. "And one of the things I try to teach people is — if you've only got a couple moments to decide what to do, how do you pick what to do — I don't know if I'm any good at that part, mind you, it's the sort of thing that's different when it's for real."

"When I was putting on a play with a lot of child actors - my assistant Eloi was one of those - it occurred to me to be worried that they'd pick up the dangerous kind of fan, the kind I wound up with when I was in Baron Cua's Pet - it didn't run long, you probably haven't heard of it, it's about a baron who takes up with his eight-year-old ward - so I made them all practice saying, 'don't touch me, I'll scream,' and then also the screaming part. It took practice! It's hard for a lot of people, or at least children, to actually scream as loud as they can, on purpose!"

Blink blink. "Does that work around here, against the sort of person who'd go after an eight year old?"

"It would bring people running inside the theater. I wouldn't expect it to help much if someone caught them at school."

"It's really nice that everyone at the theater'd care enough to try and help."

"I like to think there was always some conscience hiding in all the puffery about protecting the investments."

She nods. "Maybe if I go back home after this I can try teaching people to scream, too."

"You have to warn everybody you're doing it. Though then it can be practice for them too, they can practice dropping what they're doing to come help!"

"Oh, that's a good idea."

"Do you suppose it's worth trying to work out whether the paladin meant something worthwhile or will it be fine if it just never gets resolved?"

"...I'm not sure. It might depend on whether or not Rights is going to ask him back to answer more questions about how they do things in Lastwall."

"Which they might do, it's probably a good place to look for examples. Them and Andoran."

Nod. "It's not perfect but there's definitely some things about it that are good. ...So I guess probably I should try to ask him. But I bet instead of giving me a real answer he just gets annoyed at me again for disagreeing with him."

"Maybe you could write him a note, then if he writes back reading an annoyed note might be easier than having an annoyed conversation."

"I guess that might work. What do I... say."

"Hm, something like 'I'm concerned we had a misunderstanding about'... what was it exactly... 'the range of reactions people may have to being attacked, here is what you seemed to me to be saying, here is what I think instead, is there something here to clear up'?"

Nod. "Do you know if the paladins are staying at the temple of Iomedae, or somewhere else?"

"The Reclamation can't possibly all be staying there but the convention ones might all be."

"I guess I'll swing by later and see."

She gets out her note-taking supplies and starts working on a note.

The next person to arrive for spiritual counselling is a young woman wearing a pale blue veil. 

"Are you the priest here?"

"Yes, I'm Songbird Solandra, what's on your mind?"

"I had a question about Shelyn. Or — really it's a question about Her brother."

"Well, I can't claim to be quite so closely acquainted with Him but I'll do my best."

"I've heard it said that She still loves Him, and cares about Him, and wants Him to be alright someday, even after everything He's done, because He's her brother no matter what."

That was not a question but maybe the priestess will somehow manage to answer it anyway and she won't have to explain anything else?

"Yes, that's right. He's done terrible things, maybe the most terrible things anyone's ever done in the whole universe, but he's still a person, and he's still Her brother. I don't know if it'll ever be possible to save Him, let alone to do it without letting Him hurt any more people than He'd manage either way, but She asks that we pray for Him to be healed one day the same way we'd pray for anyone else who needed it."

That did not answer her question at all, which is terrible because now she has to keep talking. Probably this is entirely her fault for not just asking her question in the first place.

"My brother was in Egorian during the war. He died in the earthquake. I — am very confident that he's in Hell.

And I thought it would get easier, eventually, but — I know this is going to sound very pathetic, but every time something reminds me of him, I can't help but think about him burning, the way they used to do with heretics, except forever. And he's never, ever going to be okay, and I don't know how I'm supposed to be okay when—"

She's shaking. She should stop that but it sounds awfully hard.

"—and I guess I was wondering if Shelyn has any advice about that. Because of her brother."

"Can I give you a hug?"

"...If you want to."

She does! A brief hug and then she lets go. "I don't know if anything I can say will be - soothing. It's a travesty and I can't fix it from here and Shelyn can't fix it from Nirvana and we would. Nirvana sends someone to every trial. If Lady Shelyn and all Her faithful had our way Hell would be empty and your brother would be learning to fly or sing or paint, right now."

Now she's crying, which is definitely pathetic, only she doesn't actually know how to stop.

Hug.

Hug.

"Sometimes I think — did it have to be an earthquake — I know I should be grateful—"

"I don't think you have to be grateful. I think - there's room to be grateful, for the souls of the survivors. There's space for that. But they weren't your brother."

Nod.

"It just feels like — nothing is ever going to be okay ever again—"

"There's - two ways to think about that. As long as anyone's in Hell, it's not okay. It being your brother especially makes that seem like it might be the only way to think about it. But it's not.

"There are a lot of things, in all the planes and all the planets. And some of those things are okay. Hell can't have them. Hell doesn't get to poison them. Hell doesn't own flowers and birds and the sky.

It is right to be grieving your brother and it is right to be angry about Hell. And that wouldn't make it wrong if one day you looked at flowers and birds and the sky, and said to yourself, actually those things are okay. And it wouldn't make it wrong for you to be okay, when you're ready."

"I don't think I know how."

"The earthquake was so recent. It could take a long, long time. I just want you to know that when you get there it's all right."

Nod.

"In the meantime the Melodies has a section about honoring loved ones with songs, or pictures, would you like to see?"

That really doesn't seem like it would help but it's not like not doing anything will help either. "Sure."

Laia gets out her copy. There's a dirge in there, and she's tucked the sheet music for the version Gabriel's familiar with between the pages. She'll sing it softly.

After the first verse she joins in. Her voice is shaking, but she can carry a tune.

It would be in incredibly poor taste to behave delightedly about this development! So Laia doesn't do that!

When they reach the end, she sits there silently for a few moments, then asks, "Is there another one like that?"

There is another one on the next page and they can sing that one too.

Her brother is being tortured in Hell, and it's kind of hard to think about anything else right now, but she doesn't need to be able to think to sing.

The Melodies has several dirges but most of them are not actually appropriate for this situation in particular so they will have to stop at two.

She should probably stop taking up the priestess's time but she doesn't really want anyone else to see her like this. If she just sits here quietly is the priestess going to actually stop her?

Nope! She can sit quietly here!

Then she'll sit here until she's pretty sure no one will be able to tell she's been crying.

"Thank you, miss."

"Of course. Thank you for coming. Shelyn's blessings be on you for your love and for your healing both."

"Shelyn's blessings on you too, miss."

And she leaves.

Laia jots down a couple of notes for a possible sermon idea and resumes circulating.

An older, well-dressed man is critically examining the artwork on the walls.

"Good evening, my lord, and welcome!"

"Songbird." He nods his head. He's never seen a lion before in person, but doubts they look like that. "I can't help but notice you that still have some undecorated walls."

"Songbird Gabriel and all his volunteers are working as fast as they can, but it's a big place!"

He pauses for a moment, then settles on directness. "I am interested in spiritual counseling, but hate to be idle. Would you paint with me?"

"Sure! Not on a wall, I'm not much of a painter so far, but we've got paper." She can fetch some, and some red and yellow and blue and white from Gabriel, and a brush for each of them, and cups for her to fill with water.

He is, and so will pick a section of wall and begin on a unicorn. He has seen one of those in person, which he thinks he might be supposed to regret?

"I... am not sure what to do with my skills," he begins after a while. "I painted to remember, to capture particularly striking moments and evoke those emotions again, and... there is much I would rather forget, now."

"You've always painted from life and not imagination?"

"Almost always. I painted a dream, once or twice, and sometimes would have a need for something particular." The head and neck take shape. "But almost always it was of the scene in front of me, or my memory of it."

He is scared to admit it. It's pathetic; they're not going to replace him now, not while he has the archmage's protection. "I... had a reputation among Chosen."

"A reputation for what?"

He focuses on the mane. Then the horn, which requires mixing up a few new colors, to get the highlights and reflections right. Then he works up the courage. "Most of the pieces I sold were torture scenes. I think some of my works were bought by seminaries for teaching. A few travelled to my barony to have me paint them in the act, or invited me to them for the same."

"I can see why that would weigh on you. No matter how you honed the skills, though, we will still be glad to have this beautiful unicorn here."

He doesn't respond, for a while. The eyes of an animal convey emotion, but not in the way human eyes do, and he doesn't want this one to convey pity and regret. He'll instead borrow from the eyes of a horse getting a feed bag after a long trek.

"I wish it were just that it weighs on me. I... miss it." It's easier to say, when he doesn't have to look at her. He steps back, examining the piece again. "It's beautiful, but it's not striking."

"Striking... hm. I think it will draw the eye, but it will not obviously... stick in the mind like a splinter."

He begins to mix some blue paint, mulling over her words. It doesn't quite fit--either the emotions the subjects were feeling were real and important, or capturing their pain was just a cheap trick to shock the audience, and he flips between those interpretations, not willing to embrace either.

"What is the goal of art, for you?" He asks, continuing to blend his blue.

"I've spent my whole life on the stage. I just live to act out a story in a way that lets someone be there with me, in the mind of my character. But separately also I live for, for - spectacle - putting on a great big glorious show where a hundred people are all working together to bring one grand vision to life with lights and costumes and makeup and dancing and music and lyrics and at a certain point it almost doesn't matter what the content is, I love that. Both together is best though at extremes they pull against each other."

"It is interesting, that your audience always experienced it with you. For me, it was to say, 'I saw this, I understood it, I captured it.' A moment frozen in time, to be revisited later." he muses. "Ah, that's what I need."

He quickly fetches a glass bead, and then crushes it with the pommel of his dagger, mixing it into the paint. He looks between his easel and the wall several times, and then takes a breath and makes one smooth, looping movement.

An abstract line suggests a glittering blue dove in flight, launching itself from the horn of the unicorn.

"Oooooooh..."

He sets down the paints, satisfied. "Well, Songbird? How did you fare with your paper?"

She shows him a blobby blue flower with a red stem protruding what might be either flowers or leaves. "I wouldn't call it striking."

He wouldn't either. She probably knows you can combine blue and yellow paint to make green, and it would be insulting to point that out to her? But she didn't mix either of those paints, and so maybe she doesn't.

But get a reputation as an artist and counts are always showing you their trash; he knows how to redirect. Just pretend it's poetry. "It reminds me of my story," he says quickly, "the blue petals of beauty growing out of a blood-soaked stem. Might I keep it, as a memento?"

"You're welcome to it."

Then he will take it, thank her, and leave, his piece finished and no longer able to shield him from looking directly at his emotions or his history.

That wasn't very spiritually counsely but maybe he will come back another time.

The next person to arrive at Laia's office is a middle-aged man with his hands stuffed firmly into his pockets.

"Good evening! What's on your mind?"

How does he even explain this.

"I've been having a very stupid problem, and I guess I was hoping you'd have some advice."

"Oh, stupid problems are sometimes the best kind. Have a seat, tell me all about it."

He sits down.

"So I keep having this issue where — there's something I don't want to do, and most of the time I know I don't want to do it, and I keep deciding I'm not going to do anymore. Only then something'll happen, and even though I know I'll regret it later I end up doing it again. And I'd like to stop but it's not... working."

"Hmm. Do you want to tell me what the thing is or should I make up an example and pretend it's that?"

"...Why don't you make up an example." If he explains it probably she'll, like, kick him out or something. That would suck.

"We could pretend you're trying to quit drinking, does that work or is it too different for any of the same advice to make sense?"

"That's probably close enough. Except assume I'm living above a tavern or something, so I can't just avoid them completely."

"Well, maybe you should stop living above a tavern! Maybe you have a friend you could swap apartments with, or move in with. And if you can't do that, you could ask the bartender not to give you any more. And if they won't, you could see if they'd water it down for you, so you'd at least slow down and have more chances to catch yourself before you were blacked out. And if that didn't work you could make sure everyone you hang out with knows you're trying to stop and tell them to all make fun of you and steal your beer if you order one."

"...I think maybe I was wrong about whether drinking would work as an example here."

"Should I try again or do you want to tell me?"

"Sometimes when I get mad at my — well, we're not married, but we've been living together for years now — I end up hurting her, or our kids if it's the kids I'm mad at, or sometimes both. And I guess if I walked out on them I wouldn't do that anymore, but I don't think it'd be right to do that either."

"Oh no, that sounds awful in a completely different way. What tends to get you mad?"

"It's not always the same sort of thing. Last night it was — I got home from work, and the toddler had gotten into the pantry and spilled flour all over the floor, and then—" He cuts himself off.

"What would happen if... you just saw that and then turned around and left. Not forever, just a few minutes. Went for a walk."

"...That would work if I actually did it but I don't know if I'd do it."

"I suppose that's the problem with almost everything, isn't it. What would you be thinking, if you decided to try it and then it didn't happen -"

"—That I'd told the nice Songbird I'd leave and go for a walk but I didn't want to. I could want to do it the rest of the time, I just don't know if I could want to do it when it matters—"

Nod, nod. "Have you tried praying when it comes up, like, Shelyn, give me the strength to walk away now -"

"Not when it's happening. I've prayed other times, to make it stop — I can try planning to pray the next time it happens. I don't know if I'll actually do it."

"What if... we tell Her, together, right now, that She should be watching out for a prayer when this comes up. So She'll be expecting it. Already paying attention and waiting for you to turn Her way, the next time you're angry. So if you skip it She'll know."

"I guess it can't hurt to try that."

"Lady Shelyn, this man here is working on how to love his family better and he needs Your help to look Your way instead of toward his anger in those awful moments. Please stand ready to help him step back and find calm and love and resolve instead of fury, and help him remember to ask for it."

He swallows.

"Lady Shelyn, I want to stop. Please help me. And please help me decide to ask for Your help."

Laia takes one of his hands in hers and pats it. "And maybe another time - come back and bring your girlfriend? She might have an idea. She might have one already, and be afraid to mention it, and be less afraid here."

He nods. "I can ask her if she wants to come."

"I'd love to meet her. I want you to be able to love her better, and the kids too, though if they're that young probably they will have more fun drawing than brainstorming."

Nod. "We've got three. The oldest is six."

"The six year old might have an idea! We'll see when you bring them by."

He nods again. "Maybe."

"I'll be expecting you. This is a hard problem and I think it will be easier if you're active here, all of you."

Hopefully she really means that and she won't just kick him out the first time it happens again.

"I'll see you in a few days, then?"

"If that's the best time for you! It could also be tomorrow!"

"I'll see what she says."

"Shelyn's blessings on you. And good luck on top of that."

"Thank you."

And he leaves.

She's gonna real quick pray some more about that because she can imagine layers of complexity that could show up when he comes back with the girlfriend that would be REALLY tricky.

Right then. Enter Ready For More Spiritual Counseling Laia.

The next person to arrive for spiritual counseling is a tired-looking woman in her mid-thirties.

"Hello there. What's on your mind?"

She fidgets with her hands. "So I keep hearing that if we just do enough Good that it balances out all the Evil we did, we'll make Axis. But it seems like a lot of Good things... would kind of suck to do? Are there Good things that don't suck?"

"...hm, I don't find them sucky but you and I are different people! Which Good things are you thinking of and what about them sucks?"

"Well, it's Good to donate money to the Church of Iomedae but then I have less money. And it's Good to care for sick people, but then I might get sick, and also it's annoying to spend time around sick people. And it's Good to fight demons at the Worldwound now that Asmodeus isn't in charge anymore, but I don't want to fight demons. ...Or know how to fight demons. And apparently one of the Sowers gave a big speech about how it's Good to go adopt orphans, but I don't want to have to deal with a kid."

"Sounds like you've got a lot going on that you'd have to interrupt to do any of those things, what is it you mostly do?"

"Mostly I make candles."

"Ooh, I love candles. Do you love them or is it just a living?"

"Really just a living. But at least it's that."

"What do you tend to spend your money on, given all the time you spend at work?"

"Most of it's rent, food, laundry, that sort of thing. If I've got extra... Wine that doesn't taste like someone's old clothes. Admission to see the stilt-walkers or the animal fights. Savings for if I've got to pay the Archhealer. Lots of things, really."

"Have you got much to make up for? I mean, I'm sure lots of people make Axis just off working their job and not stealing and killing. If this is how you like your life and it's how you've always liked it, maybe you're fine already."

Is the Songbird going to make her list off every Evil thing she's ever done? How about she tries not doing that and seeing if she makes her. 

"Lots of people in most countries, maybe. I don't think I was too unusual for someone in Cheliax before the war, but..."

"One thing I'm learning doing this job is that people have alllll different ideas about what's normal. Are we talking about - you went to church, you held the whip some of the time in school, you said mean things because everyone expected that - or are we talking about a dead baby or two - or something in between."

"More like the second thing." And more than two, at least if it's true they still count before they're born, but she's not going to say that. And she reported anyone she thought might've broken the law whether they were breaking it with theft or with primary worship, but everyone did that, maybe it's more like going to church.

"So you know that sending a baby to the Boneyard is Evil, but do you know why, yet?"

"...Well, it's Evil to kill people. Unless you're a paladin or an executioner — for the new queen, not the old one — or something like that."

"That's close enough for most purposes, but - do you know what happens to babies when they die?"

"The same thing as anyone else? Except that most babies go to the Boneyard and most adults don't."

"So, if you just killed me right here where I'm sitting - and if I weren't a convention delegate - I'd go to Nirvana. That'd actually be fine for me, I'm looking forward to seeing the place one day! But it'd be bad for anyone I would have helped, and bad for everyone who's scared when they hear there's been a murder, and bad for my assistant who's relying on my stipend and my company to get back home safe after the convention, and bad for you since you'd get in trouble, and so on and so forth.

"With a baby, it's not like that. A baby goes to the Boneyard. And maybe that's fine for everyone else. Maybe nobody wanted a baby around right then. Maybe the baby would've grown up to be awful and all things considered it's better if they're not here on Golarion making trouble, though you can't hardly predict that, they could've grown up to be a great hero too. But for the baby themselves, we know exactly what happens: they go to the Boneyard, and they never grow up, and the first outsider who can convince them of an alignment gets to control where they go next - if they even get an outsider's attention instead of just being neglected till they're too damaged to listen to an angel if one did speak to them."

"I already know we're not supposed to kill babies anymore, you don't have to convince me."

"Understanding why matters. I'm not saying this because I think you're going to kill another baby, I'm saying it so you'll understand why."

"Okay."

"You're here now and you have the chance to do some Good in the world and go to Axis like you're hoping one day. Axis is a wonderful place. I hope you make it and I hope you are happy every day of your eternity there.

"What do you think makes it so nice?"

"Well, the alternative's Hell, and in Hell you get tortured all the time."

"That's certainly true. If you could just live forever, and never see Axis but also never go to Hell, would that be just as good?"

"Depends on how the living forever worked. If I didn't have to get old it would probably be fine."

"Huh. Is there's someplace you'd rather go and Axis just sounds like the most doable non-Hell option?"

"I don't really know. Not Nirvana, I don't want to be an animal."

"Do you have fun, when you go watch animal fights or stilt-walkers?"

"I think so? If I didn't want to watch it I wouldn't spend money on it."

"Don't you think Axis might have things that are even better?"

"I guess it might. I don't really know how I'd tell."

"I believe there's books about it.

"I'm sorry if it seems I keep meandering around without making a point, I'm trying to figure out more about where you're coming from here. To circle back to your original problem -

"- you can get the weight of a sin off your soul without doing much, but only if you really regret it for the right reasons. And you can get the weight of a sin off your soul without regretting it hardly at all, but only if you do quite a lot. And it sounds like both of those things are going to be pretty hard for you and the question is which is harder."

"...I mean, I could try to regret it if it would mean I didn't have to do so much, but I don't really expect that'd... count."

"I think that's a sufficient reason to go about trying to regret it. But it's not regretting it all by itself."

Nod.

"I can go back to trying to explain why it's regrettable, if that's the approach you'd like to go with."

"Trying to do Good's probably safer."

"Well, doing both is going to be the safest, in case one doesn't work you'd have the other to fall back on."

"I guess that's probably reasonable."

"What would be the hard parts of adopting children, for you? - donating money to Good causes is Good but I think it's more expensive, per dead baby, maybe too expensive for a chandler."

"Well, I'd need to take care of the kid, and pay someone to watch it during work, and buy it food and clothes, and it might keep me up at night or get mad if I don't care about its little-kid problems." Also she doesn't want to.

"...well, some of those difficulties would be less if you got an older kid, is that any more appealing?"

"...It's less unappealing? But I'm not sure that's really the same."

"A thing I keep running into here is that it's not clear what you find actively appealing. Even the entertainments you buy tickets for - I asked if it was fun and you said you think so."

"Well, stilt-walking's definitely a lot more fun than taking care of a kid."

"But is that because stilt-walking is so great or because taking care of a kid is so bad?"

"Both, I guess?"

"You don't sound very sure."

"Well, it's not like I know how much fun is the normal amount of fun for fun things. ...It's fine if doing Good isn't fun, I know that makes it count less, it'd just be nice to have a way to make up for everything that didn't actively suck."

"I think doing Good things is often fun for a lot of people. I don't think that even makes it count less, though I admit I didn't get that direct from Pharasma. But Goodness is fundamentally going to involve extending yourself for other people's benefit. If you didn't have a baby in the Boneyard on your soul I'd say, okay, Axis is lovely, no need to extend yourself too much - but that baby's really going to cost you. That was your big chance to extend yourself for someone else's benefit, and you did the opposite, and the hurt you did is probably still ongoing as we speak beyond your or my power to correct, and now you've got an uphill climb."

If she's probably going to Hell anyway she might as well not even bother doing Good things that suck, but if she says that she'll probably be arrested for proselytizing for infernal powers or something.

"...What are the Good things most people find fun to do?"

"Doing Good work can be like any other sort of work - you can chat with the people you're working with, and come up with ways to make it more entertaining and beautiful - I work here, for instance, and we're making the church prettier every day - for a while I was doing pamphlet readings, where I'd go on the steps and dramatize the nicest pamphlets for anyone who didn't get a copy, that was a lot of fun and I think it did Good too by spreading Good ideas and helping anyone listening who wanted to read them but couldn't. - how would you feel about teaching a candle-making class here at the church, do you know how to make fancy candles in colors with designs on them?"

"Colors're pretty easy if you've got the right dyes. Designs you want to have the right mold for, you can't just do any design you like and expect it turn out right. But I could teach a class."

"I think that would be a strong start. I don't think you'll get all the way you need to, that way, but - I'd like to get to know you better and maybe then it'll be easier to think of something. And teaching is Good, and beautiful things are too. You can go organize a class with the lay priest over there."

Sure, she can go talk to the lay priest about that.

That was a tough one! Why was that harder than the guy who had to go turn himself in for participating in a murder! You learn something new every day, she guesses.

The next person to arrive is a boy of about thirteen, who shows up slightly out of breath. "Excuse me, Miss Songbird? Are you the right person to report blasphemy against Shelyn to?"

"Oh my goodness! It must be really something to send you here in such a rush, what have you heard?"

"You know the new mural on — I'm not sure what it's called now. The one with the dolphin and the deer?"

"I don't, but go on?"

"Jaïr and Siveri and another boy whose name I don't know were painting nasty words over it!!"

"Oh, well, that's very rude of them! I'll ask Songbird Gabriel to go put the mural right when he has a spare hour."

"...but are you the right person to report them to? Or is there someone else?"

"If you knew who'd painted it in the first place that might have been better, since they'd know more than Songbird Gabriel about what it was supposed to look like to begin with, but this was fine. - they're not in trouble, vandalizing a mural isn't illegal right now, it's just rude."

"—but it's disrespectful to Shelyn. People aren't supposed to disrespect the gods. ...The Good gods."

"It's rude! If they came in here and started doing it to the paintings on our walls I'd throw them out! I certainly hope they learn better. But we're not going to punish them."

"...why not?"

"We're not Asmodeans. We don't like punishing people."

"Oh. ...I thought all the gods wanted to punish people who disrespected them. They're gods."

"The good ones are Good. That's more important than being respected, especially if they'd have to get the respect by being scary and mean."

"...okay." Now he looks a little nervous that he's going to be in trouble.

"Thank you for telling me, though, it's good to know so that someone can go fix the painting."

"You're welcome, miss."

He's going to try to leave now.

He's free to go!