The Cult of Acceptance

“I call it the Cult of Acceptance.” Da’kiri grinned. “But it’s anything but accepting.”

“You know how I love catches,” Offrith purred. “Go on.”

His grin quickly morphed into a snarl. “Of course, my lady.”

The lady laughed at his sudden change of character, treating it as if it were something commonplace.

“They preach their acceptance, crusading for anybody, anything; it’s all for nothing though, they never learn. The truth is that they only accept those who think like them . . . Who are them, essentially. When they realize that mistake they quickly become horrified, but it is the other person who is wrong–they are the ones who are mentally ill!” He stopped, cocking his head to the side, as if listening. “In the end they still push everyone to the margins. It’s almost like their cult of happiness . . .”

At this the lady gave pause. “What a bunch of animals. Your understanding of them always astounds me. I gave up on the things a long time ago.” She smiled at that; time was of no consequence to her.

“Understanding them is not always simple,” Da’Kiri conceded.

“That is why you are the king in the shadows though, is it not?” she said in a soft whisper. “You are such a demon!” Her grin turned into a horrible snarl.


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