Obligations
by Wiebke Fesch
Same disclaimers and notes as Part 1.
-----CHAPTER 10-----
Ashmael was leaning back in his chair reading a book when Swift came by to find him in his office. In contrast to that morning, the area seemed to have been abandoned.
"Very efficient, Ashmael. Everyone off working?" Swift asked. While Ashmael did not work full time in Megalithica -- he was a strong player in life in Immanion and Almagabra -- in the time he did spend, he had been of tremendous assistance.
Ashmael set down the book and took his feet off the desk. "Yes, Swift, they're all out. Meanwhile I was just getting in some reading -- never know when I'm going to find myself at loose ends. Speaking of which... you've come to me about the inception?"
Swift nodded. Ashmael was sharp as a tack and he wasn't surprised to see he had been expected. "I wanted to know if you could arrange some things for this matter," Swift began confidently. "First, I understand that we will need to find some trained attendants to care for Ranat during the Althaia. Second, we must have a room properly prepared downstairs -- whatever that amounts to. Third, I'd like to know what is planned for the inception ceremony itself."
"Such an air of authority, Swift!" Ashmael exclaimed mockingly, then laughed. "I like to see that. You have done an admirable job, I will admit, but occasionally I think you're a little soft. Three-point statements like you just gave, however -- much better." Ashmael straightened up. "But don't let me patronize you. Let me address your points. First, I can arrange for the attendants. That is a simple matter. As to the issue of the room, that is something I believe you should be responsible for, at least in some measure."
"But, Ashmael, I hardly know where to begin," Swift protested. "You know I've never seen this happen -- I have no idea what is needed, in practical terms."
"Ah, but you _should_ have an idea," Ashmael countered. "That's what I'm saying. Not that you'll need to learn it all on your own, but I want you to be part of the planning. Later this afternoon you'll come downstairs with me and we'll discuss what needs to be done. I believe it should be fairly simple to transform one of the workrooms, but I want you to be there as part of the discussion."
"Thank you, Ashmael. I agree -- I need to know as much about this as I can." Swift tried to avoid admitting too much weakness, but in his experience, Ashmael's advice was almost always sound and certainly, even if was delivered with somewhat of a paternal flair, it was made with the best intentions. "And the third point -- the ceremony?"
"That, Swift, is something we need to discuss with Tarra," Ashmael replied.
"Good," said Swift, "because that's what I was really coming to ask you about. Tarra and Seel are in the dining room waiting to speak with us."
- - - - -
"Ah, Ashmael!" Seel called out from the table. "Tarra and I have been having a discussion and we need your input."
Ashmael took a seat next to Seel, while Swift took the spot next to Tarra. "Oh, and what is it? Inception-related, I gather?"
"Yes, and it's something Tarra and I can't seem to resolve," Seel explained. "Perhaps, Tarra, you ought to present it?"
"Thanks and of course thank you, Ashmael, for agreeing to officiate." He reached out and took a sip of the coffee remaining in his mug after lunch. "I've heard that you have a great deal of experience in conducting the Harhune. It's because of this that I hope you will be able to resolve a question that has been spinning around in my mind for a long time now."
"Which is?" Ashmael asked.
"Really it's a strange thing, but the problem is... I don't know what tribe we will be incepting Ranat into. I am Sulh or -- I was. I haven't been with the Sulh for years. Should it be a Sulh ceremony? I'm not sure where we'll be living -- here or in the desert. Maybe a Gelaming ceremony? I don't even know what's involved in that. And a Varrish ceremony?" He looked to Swift. "No offense intended, tiahaar Swift, but I don't think I could see Ranat incepted as a Varr, however much they have changed. After his mother -- no." Tarra appeared truly perplexed. "So you see the conundrum?"
Ashmael had his chin between thumb and forefinger. "It is interesting, tiahaar. I can see your point -- you haven't been living with a tribe, your tribe isn't here, the tribes who are here aren't your own... You really have your pick, I'd say. Which would you prefer?"
"That's what I'm asking _you_," Tarra replied. "Except for what I said about Varrish inception, I don't have a preference. Actually I want to know if I have to have one. Can there be an inception without having to join a particular tribe?"
"Of course there _can_ be, Tarra. But do you think it will be possible for Ranat to exist outside a tribe?" The question wasn't confrontational, but seemed to spring from curiosity.
Tarra scoffed as this question. Of course Ranat would be part of a tribe, but right now that decision hadn't been made. Couldn't they wait until later on, and in the meantime, have a rather more open inception -- something that blended together different traditions? This inception already presented one striking non-traditional element -- a father incepting his own human son -- so wouldn't it be fitting to have a ceremony that was something special?
"I see you point," Ashmael conceded. "I can come up with... an _ecumenical_ ceremony, something tribeless, more universal. Will that suit?"
Tarra nodded. "Admirably. Again, thank you, tiahaar."
"You're welcome. And now, Tarra, since you just touched on it yourself, let me bring up a matter that occurred to me today. I didn't think of it yesterday but as I thought through the inception process, it became more and more obvious."
Tarra wasn't the only one whose ears immediately perked up. What didn't they already know?
Ashmael ended his pregnant pause. "Tarra, you, as we all know, will be donating your blood to your own son. This, as we've already discussed, in not an issue in and of itself. What is an issue, or what may be, and what is something you may not have considered, is that once the cut has been made, you will need to be kept away from here."
"What are you talking about?" Tarra snapped. "I'm not going anywhere. My place is by my son, seeing him through this."
Ashmael refused to be rattled. "No, Tarra, that's not your place."
"But it is!" Tarra cried. "You and Seel both know what Althaia is like. I can't just leave him alone!"
"He'll be well attended, Tarra. I've already arranged for--"
"Servants! Not good enough! I've cared for Ranat for most of his life. And now at this moment, you tell me I'm not qualified, that I have to go? Why are you saying this?"
"Yes," Swift said carefully, avoiding siding with either party, "why are you saying this, Ashmael?"
"Two reasons. First, Tarra -- and don't interrupt," he began raising his hand for emphasis. "First, you think it's your place to be with your son but in fact it's the last place you should be. You think Ranat needs you? Maybe, but he won't know it. No, Tarra, he won't know anything. He'll be mad, a lunatic. That you're his father -- that won't mean anything to him except that it's your fault, and your fault alone, that he's writhing in agony, tearing at his own skin, wallowing in his own filth."
Ashmael paused and reached for the cup of coffee that had been poured for him as he spoke. "I know it's distasteful, Tarra, but it's the truth. I've seen this through many times and I've seen what can happen. You could walk in there and far from comforting your son, you'll find him attacking you. He won't hurt you -- he'll be too weak -- but it will upset him. Do you understand?"'
Tarra was silent.
"No answer? Well, let me give you a second reason. It's a simple one really. It is this: You should avoid seeing your son in pain. It sounds heartless, I know, but I say this from experience. I have incepted many with my own blood, and when I've seen the result, the Althaia, I have felt sorry, guilty. Yes, there is a greater purpose, but you can feel regret, you really can. And if I felt it for people who are strangers to me, then how would you feel? To know that you had caused that suffering to your own flesh and blood? I think it would be ill-advised."
Tarra was staring, eyes wet. "I'm sorry, Ashmael--" he began, then had to stop to clear his throat. "I'm sorry, I didn't think." He took a deep breath and lapsed into silence for a minute, the others waiting patiently. "But just as you saw the point of the ecumenical service, I see the point of this. You mean well and, truly, I wasn't thinking -- not with my head. Excuse me."
"It's all right, " Seel soothed. "You're in a difficult position."
Reluctantly Tarra conceded. He would stay away from his son. Ashmael suggested that he might plan on staying in a neighboring house, as the Althaia could be loud enough to be heard upstairs. Seel disagreed; the third floor would be adequately distant.
Once again, Swift began to feel nervous. The only inception he'd ever been close to had been Peter's and he had been a harling and totally uninvolved. The only thing he remembered, besides the ceremony, were Peter's screams. It had taken far longer than the usual three days.
"So, are we through then?" Swift asked, standing up. He was through. "Ashmael, we'll take care of the room downstairs?"
Ashmael rose as well. "Yes, Swift. I believe we're all settled for the moment."
Seel glanced over to Tarra, who was still looking somewhat dazed and shaken, reconciling himself to the decision that had been made. "Tarra, would you like to come into town with me?"
Tarra looked up abruptly. "Town? Sure. I still haven't seen what life is like nowadays, and I may as well see it. The next few days certainly won't be a time for enjoying a similar trip."
TBC...
by Wiebke Fesch
Same disclaimers and notes as Part 1.
-----CHAPTER 10-----
Ashmael was leaning back in his chair reading a book when Swift came by to find him in his office. In contrast to that morning, the area seemed to have been abandoned.
"Very efficient, Ashmael. Everyone off working?" Swift asked. While Ashmael did not work full time in Megalithica -- he was a strong player in life in Immanion and Almagabra -- in the time he did spend, he had been of tremendous assistance.
Ashmael set down the book and took his feet off the desk. "Yes, Swift, they're all out. Meanwhile I was just getting in some reading -- never know when I'm going to find myself at loose ends. Speaking of which... you've come to me about the inception?"
Swift nodded. Ashmael was sharp as a tack and he wasn't surprised to see he had been expected. "I wanted to know if you could arrange some things for this matter," Swift began confidently. "First, I understand that we will need to find some trained attendants to care for Ranat during the Althaia. Second, we must have a room properly prepared downstairs -- whatever that amounts to. Third, I'd like to know what is planned for the inception ceremony itself."
"Such an air of authority, Swift!" Ashmael exclaimed mockingly, then laughed. "I like to see that. You have done an admirable job, I will admit, but occasionally I think you're a little soft. Three-point statements like you just gave, however -- much better." Ashmael straightened up. "But don't let me patronize you. Let me address your points. First, I can arrange for the attendants. That is a simple matter. As to the issue of the room, that is something I believe you should be responsible for, at least in some measure."
"But, Ashmael, I hardly know where to begin," Swift protested. "You know I've never seen this happen -- I have no idea what is needed, in practical terms."
"Ah, but you _should_ have an idea," Ashmael countered. "That's what I'm saying. Not that you'll need to learn it all on your own, but I want you to be part of the planning. Later this afternoon you'll come downstairs with me and we'll discuss what needs to be done. I believe it should be fairly simple to transform one of the workrooms, but I want you to be there as part of the discussion."
"Thank you, Ashmael. I agree -- I need to know as much about this as I can." Swift tried to avoid admitting too much weakness, but in his experience, Ashmael's advice was almost always sound and certainly, even if was delivered with somewhat of a paternal flair, it was made with the best intentions. "And the third point -- the ceremony?"
"That, Swift, is something we need to discuss with Tarra," Ashmael replied.
"Good," said Swift, "because that's what I was really coming to ask you about. Tarra and Seel are in the dining room waiting to speak with us."
- - - - -
"Ah, Ashmael!" Seel called out from the table. "Tarra and I have been having a discussion and we need your input."
Ashmael took a seat next to Seel, while Swift took the spot next to Tarra. "Oh, and what is it? Inception-related, I gather?"
"Yes, and it's something Tarra and I can't seem to resolve," Seel explained. "Perhaps, Tarra, you ought to present it?"
"Thanks and of course thank you, Ashmael, for agreeing to officiate." He reached out and took a sip of the coffee remaining in his mug after lunch. "I've heard that you have a great deal of experience in conducting the Harhune. It's because of this that I hope you will be able to resolve a question that has been spinning around in my mind for a long time now."
"Which is?" Ashmael asked.
"Really it's a strange thing, but the problem is... I don't know what tribe we will be incepting Ranat into. I am Sulh or -- I was. I haven't been with the Sulh for years. Should it be a Sulh ceremony? I'm not sure where we'll be living -- here or in the desert. Maybe a Gelaming ceremony? I don't even know what's involved in that. And a Varrish ceremony?" He looked to Swift. "No offense intended, tiahaar Swift, but I don't think I could see Ranat incepted as a Varr, however much they have changed. After his mother -- no." Tarra appeared truly perplexed. "So you see the conundrum?"
Ashmael had his chin between thumb and forefinger. "It is interesting, tiahaar. I can see your point -- you haven't been living with a tribe, your tribe isn't here, the tribes who are here aren't your own... You really have your pick, I'd say. Which would you prefer?"
"That's what I'm asking _you_," Tarra replied. "Except for what I said about Varrish inception, I don't have a preference. Actually I want to know if I have to have one. Can there be an inception without having to join a particular tribe?"
"Of course there _can_ be, Tarra. But do you think it will be possible for Ranat to exist outside a tribe?" The question wasn't confrontational, but seemed to spring from curiosity.
Tarra scoffed as this question. Of course Ranat would be part of a tribe, but right now that decision hadn't been made. Couldn't they wait until later on, and in the meantime, have a rather more open inception -- something that blended together different traditions? This inception already presented one striking non-traditional element -- a father incepting his own human son -- so wouldn't it be fitting to have a ceremony that was something special?
"I see you point," Ashmael conceded. "I can come up with... an _ecumenical_ ceremony, something tribeless, more universal. Will that suit?"
Tarra nodded. "Admirably. Again, thank you, tiahaar."
"You're welcome. And now, Tarra, since you just touched on it yourself, let me bring up a matter that occurred to me today. I didn't think of it yesterday but as I thought through the inception process, it became more and more obvious."
Tarra wasn't the only one whose ears immediately perked up. What didn't they already know?
Ashmael ended his pregnant pause. "Tarra, you, as we all know, will be donating your blood to your own son. This, as we've already discussed, in not an issue in and of itself. What is an issue, or what may be, and what is something you may not have considered, is that once the cut has been made, you will need to be kept away from here."
"What are you talking about?" Tarra snapped. "I'm not going anywhere. My place is by my son, seeing him through this."
Ashmael refused to be rattled. "No, Tarra, that's not your place."
"But it is!" Tarra cried. "You and Seel both know what Althaia is like. I can't just leave him alone!"
"He'll be well attended, Tarra. I've already arranged for--"
"Servants! Not good enough! I've cared for Ranat for most of his life. And now at this moment, you tell me I'm not qualified, that I have to go? Why are you saying this?"
"Yes," Swift said carefully, avoiding siding with either party, "why are you saying this, Ashmael?"
"Two reasons. First, Tarra -- and don't interrupt," he began raising his hand for emphasis. "First, you think it's your place to be with your son but in fact it's the last place you should be. You think Ranat needs you? Maybe, but he won't know it. No, Tarra, he won't know anything. He'll be mad, a lunatic. That you're his father -- that won't mean anything to him except that it's your fault, and your fault alone, that he's writhing in agony, tearing at his own skin, wallowing in his own filth."
Ashmael paused and reached for the cup of coffee that had been poured for him as he spoke. "I know it's distasteful, Tarra, but it's the truth. I've seen this through many times and I've seen what can happen. You could walk in there and far from comforting your son, you'll find him attacking you. He won't hurt you -- he'll be too weak -- but it will upset him. Do you understand?"'
Tarra was silent.
"No answer? Well, let me give you a second reason. It's a simple one really. It is this: You should avoid seeing your son in pain. It sounds heartless, I know, but I say this from experience. I have incepted many with my own blood, and when I've seen the result, the Althaia, I have felt sorry, guilty. Yes, there is a greater purpose, but you can feel regret, you really can. And if I felt it for people who are strangers to me, then how would you feel? To know that you had caused that suffering to your own flesh and blood? I think it would be ill-advised."
Tarra was staring, eyes wet. "I'm sorry, Ashmael--" he began, then had to stop to clear his throat. "I'm sorry, I didn't think." He took a deep breath and lapsed into silence for a minute, the others waiting patiently. "But just as you saw the point of the ecumenical service, I see the point of this. You mean well and, truly, I wasn't thinking -- not with my head. Excuse me."
"It's all right, " Seel soothed. "You're in a difficult position."
Reluctantly Tarra conceded. He would stay away from his son. Ashmael suggested that he might plan on staying in a neighboring house, as the Althaia could be loud enough to be heard upstairs. Seel disagreed; the third floor would be adequately distant.
Once again, Swift began to feel nervous. The only inception he'd ever been close to had been Peter's and he had been a harling and totally uninvolved. The only thing he remembered, besides the ceremony, were Peter's screams. It had taken far longer than the usual three days.
"So, are we through then?" Swift asked, standing up. He was through. "Ashmael, we'll take care of the room downstairs?"
Ashmael rose as well. "Yes, Swift. I believe we're all settled for the moment."
Seel glanced over to Tarra, who was still looking somewhat dazed and shaken, reconciling himself to the decision that had been made. "Tarra, would you like to come into town with me?"
Tarra looked up abruptly. "Town? Sure. I still haven't seen what life is like nowadays, and I may as well see it. The next few days certainly won't be a time for enjoying a similar trip."
TBC...
