On the ritual of petitioning the gods for permission to cease labour.

Introduction

Among the many rites of The Church, none is so fraught with dread and ceremony as the Petition of Rest. Where a common person might simply decide, one morning, that they are tired, the follower must instead approach the altar many moons in advance, kneel before the Calendar, and beg that a future version of themselves be permitted to stop.

The Church teaches that rest is not a right but a prophecy — a thing that must be foretold, documented, and blessed long before it is felt.

The Long Prophecy

To request a single day of Distant Rest, the follower must first divine, months ahead of time, the precise state of their own exhaustion. They must know now, in the fullness of their current vigour, that they will require weariness-relief on a date so far off it barely exists.

The Church finds this entirely reasonable. Spontaneity, after all, is a form of chaos, and chaos cannot be entered into the Sacred Calendar. A follower who wishes to rest on a whim is gently reminded that whims are not a recognised unit of planning.

The Rite of Coverage

No Petition of Rest may be granted until the follower has proven that their absence will cause no disturbance to the Great Machine. This requires the drafting of a Coverage Scroll: a document listing who shall carry the follower’s burdens while they are away, written in such detail that the follower begins to wonder whether it would simply be easier to stay.

It is considered poor form to point out that the Machine seems to run perfectly well during illness, with no scroll at all. The Church regards planned rest and unplanned rest as spiritually distinct categories, the former requiring penance, the latter requiring only silence.

The Approval, Delayed

Once submitted, the Petition enters a period of contemplation among the ordained, who must consult their own Calendars, their own Idols of Priority, and occasionally the phases of the moon before rendering judgment. A follower who asks after their Petition too soon is thought impatient. A follower who does not ask is thought to have forgotten they ever wished to rest at all.

It is not uncommon for the Petition to be approved mere days before the appointed Rest, at which point the follower is expected to feel gratitude rather than the slow-dawning realisation that they spent three months anxious over a decision that took thirty seconds to make.

The Guilt of Departure

As the day of Rest approaches, the follower is reminded — gently, always gently — of all that will be left undone. The ordained do not forbid the Rest; they would never forbid the Rest; they simply wonder aloud, in passing, whether the follower is quite sure the timing is wise, given everything.

The follower departs anyway, carrying with them a small offering of guilt, a phone left un-silenced, and a private vow to check their messages “just once” while away.

The Return

Upon their return, the follower finds their labours waiting exactly where they left them, untouched by the Coverage Scroll, which was, as it turns out, largely ceremonial. The Church regards this not as evidence that the Petition process was unnecessary, but as proof that the follower’s diligence in planning was the very thing that held the Great Machine together in their absence.

The follower is thanked for their dedication and quietly asked when they might next require Rest, so that it, too, can begin its long journey through prophecy, scroll, and judgment.