DISCLAIMER: I hate redundancy, especially when something is overly redundant.
NOTES: I just wanted to thank everyone who's reviewed so far, the responses have been FANTABULOUS!!! There's a lot more Briar in this chapter, so I hope that it appeases some of you. If not, let me know what directions you'd like the story to take, and MAYBE I'll incorporate them…but maybe I won't. I'm fickle.
PLEASE REVIEW, LOVIES!
EAST of the ALTER
by Anyanka
Ch. III
"Alas, how much I thought I knew about love,
And how little I really know.
For I cannot keep myself from loving
Her from whom I will gain nothing.
She has taken all my heart, my soul
Herself and all the world."
-Bernart de Ventadorn's
"Quan vey la Lauzeta"
Briar sat at the long kitchen table, his deft fingers working on the mindless task of making rosemary tincture. Handful dried rosemary. Grind with pestle. Wrap in cheesecloth. Repeat for now, until had enough bags of cheesecloth to make a few pints of tincture. Briar was thankful for this mundane task, though. If Rosethorn had asked him to do anything that actually required thought, he was sure that he wouldn't be able to focus.
Tris.
She had been the one thought on his mind for the last two days, while she lay locked up in her room like the maiden Raefuenzell, unattainable yet always in thought. Only his teachers and Honored Moonstream had been allowed to see her. Even at this moment, Niko and Honored Moonstream were up there, where his Tris was lying there, going through Green Man knows what.
Briar sighed as he reached for a fresh piece of cheesecloth. Gods, I hope Tris is all right. Please, don't let anything happen to her… he quickly brushed a hand across his face to catch an un-fallen tear. When Rosethorn had crossed over, even though it was only for a brief amount of time, he had nearly gone insane with the thought of losing her. If that ever happened to Tris…I wouldn't be able to go on. She's my mate, she's my, my-
"How are the tinctures coming, my boy?" Briar's head jerked up as his train of thought was interrupted. Rosethorn glanced down at the boy, a feat that she could seldom accomplish unless he was sitting, since Briar's growth spurt had sent him up to 5-10".
"After we finish with rosemary, we'll need to start up with hopps. You're blushing boy," she added, as she pulled a chair towards the table. Briar shook his head to dispel the thought that had been running rampant in it ever since Tris had taken…ill.
"The tinctures are fine, Rosethorn. Almost done," he added, wrapping some rosemary grindings in cheesecloth.
Rosethorn gave a curt nod, which, after working with her for six years, Briar recognized as a sign of approval. She pushed her sleeves up and began working alongside her student. They worked together in a companionable silence for sometime, the only sound breaking the silence that of Honored Moonstream's quiet exit from the attic. No questions or words were exchanged between any of them, although Honored Moonstream did seem to cast a grim aura around the room.
After a few minutes, Briar ventured to break the silence. "Rosethorn?"
"Yes boy?"
Briar bit his lip. Throughout the entire two days, Briar had been afraid to ask this question. I guess actually saying it shows Tris as vulnerable…it questions her mortality…
"Is Tris dying?"
Rosethorn's unfaltering hands skipped a beat, but she quickly regained her composure. "No, lad, she isn't."
Relief sunk into Briar and he let the refreshing feeling dwell within him for a moment before he continued. "Then what's wrong with her?"
Rosethorn pursed her lips together. Lark, Niko, and a later consulted Frostpine, had agreed that not discussing what was happening with Tris was probably the best approach to take with their students. After much coercing, Rosethorn had also agreed to remain silent until they knew exactly what was going to happen. If the children-Not children, she mentally scolded herself, but not yet adults either - knew what was happening to her, and what would happen to her, even their teachers could not hold back whatever forces they might try to unleash to save their friend.
Rosethorn's eyes flickered as she recalled the conversation she and the other teachers had had the night that Tris began her first serious Transformation.
"I think it would be in the best interest for Tris…for ALL of us if we didn't tell the children about Tris achieving god-head," Niko said as he looked down at his student, once with such a powerful and fiery temper, now lying unconscious at the mercy of anyone.
"What?!" demanded Rosethorn, her green eyes meeting Niko's. "They deserve to know. They are closer to each other than any of us can comprehend, and to keep them in the dark about what's happening to Tris…how would you explain it to them if she dies during the trials? She would have left in the night, and she'd never return. They need to know."
"I agree with Niko," Lark said quietly from the corner she was sitting in. She met her best friend's eyes that were beginning to cloud up with anger and hurt. "Rosie, I don't like the idea any more than you do, but just think for a moment. Sandry, Daja and Briar would probably do anything to keep her here, Mila, they brought you back from the dead! I think," she paused to take a breath, surveying the scene. She wanted to break down right there, but she forced herself to go on, "that the children should not see Tris for as long as possible, perhaps only a quick goodbye before she leaves. I do not want to lose any of them because of a stubborn refusal to sever ties. I do think, however, that after we confirm what's happening to her, they should know a little about what's happening, about what a god-head is."
Even I'm not one hundred percent positive what a god-head truly is, she added silently to herself.
Rosethorn drew herself back from her memories and looked to Briar. His face was wrought with worry and so innocent, his green eyes wide and pleading with her for an answer, for something to explain why this was all happening to his best friend.
"Listen closely, boy," she unintentionally rasped, her voice having never fully recovered from her bout in the Bright Land, "I will tell you what is happening to Tris because I believe that you deserve to know. The others," she motioned with her hand to the window where Sandry and Daja were helping Lark paint a fence, "will find out soon enough. It's only a matter of time before we told you anyway," she added, not sure if she was telling that to Briar or telling it to herself.
"Tell me, have you ever heard of what a god-head is?"
"No."
"Let me think how to best explain this. There are four stages of human development, each stage harder to achieve than the next. Everyone starts at the same level, conscious-minded. Ordinary people have achieved this level, and nothing more. The next level is mage, which I believe you are well familiar with what a mage is. Some people are born mages, but others can become mages through intense studies and a life-dedication to that goal. Most people, though, are the former kind of mage. People nowadays don't like to work towards anything-"
"You're digressing, Rosethorn."
She let a small smile play across her face. "That I am. The next level that can be achieved is servitude. If one dedicates their life to the service of the Gods and Goddesses, on an extremely rare occasion they'll reach the level of servitude. This means that the Gods and Goddesses have recognized their dedication and openly use them as a vessel. All of the prophets, or all four of them," she added dryly, "are Servitude. Usually there is one profit every three hundred years or so, so having four at a time like there are now is exceedingly rare.
"The last level that can be achieved by a human is god-head. Now, I said that this is the last level that can be achieved by a human because after achieving it, they aren't exactly human anymore."
"Is that what's happening to Tris?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so. Having someone achieve god-head is…well, most of the information you can obtain about it is considered legend, not factual, if that's any indication to you how extremely rare it is. But here is what I know about it, and I'm sorry to say that this is about as much that anyone but a special few know.
"When the universe was created, it was a result of a kind of reaction. What was once One became many. The One created everything, and things continued to go smoothly. Earth developed, as did humans. Earth was chaotic, though. For example, the seasons were not set, so one could never tell when they should plant or harvest crops, so there was widespread famine. In order to control this, a woman by the name of Mila achieved god-head."
"You mean, like the Goddess Mila?"
"Yes. No God or Goddess started out as an immortal deity. Yes, their spirit is eternal, but except for the One, all were once mortal and became gods by achieving god-head."
Silence followed Rosethorn's speech, and she was determined to let it drift on until Briar broke it. Briar had torn his eyes away form her and was trying to process all of the new information that had just been handed down to him. Tris is becoming a god-head. Well, you always knew she was powerful, maybe the most powerful out of all of us, he gently chided himself. When a question had finally formed in his mind, the voice that he managed to summon to ask the question was meek.
"So Tris isn't human anymore?"
"No, lad, she's still human at the moment. There's more to being a god-head than just achieving it. You are familiar with Sirak, Bringer of Destruction, yes?"
Briar nodded, inwardly shuddering at the mention of one of the most feared gods from his old homeland.
"Many millennia ago, he too was human. A sick and depraved mage, mind you, but still human. Through unknown means, he managed to achieve god-head, and since there was no one to prevent him from seizing the power, he did just that and became one of the most feared Gods of Earth. A council was set up not too soon after, composed of the brightest and most skillful mages around the world. Their job was and still is to determine whether the person that achieves god-head is-" she paused, desperately searching for a euphemism that would fit with what she was trying to say, "up to the task. If someone with evil intentions was allowed to have such power, imagine the havoc they could wreak."
Briar nodded. "So, Tris'll have to go to this council also, and they decide whether or not she should be allowed to be a god-head."
"Yes."
"What if they decide she shouldn't be a god-head."
"If the council should find that it is in the best interest of the world to keep Tris from becoming a god-head, they will either…drain her of all of her magickal powers, or, as it is in the majority of cases that they've seen…"
"They'd kill her."
The voice that interrupted their conversation belonged to Niko, and he stared intently upon them as he made his way down from the attic. Rosethorn pursed her lips together, continuing on with her work but anticipating the scolding she would get from him for telling Briar the truth of the situation.
"What?" demanded Briar, rising to his feet to meet Niko's stare. "They're going to kill Tris?"
"They're not going to kill Tris, they might deem Tris's life to much of a risk, and send her onto her next," Niko replied in a hushed and tired tone, not stopping to sit down but instead continuing towards the door. He paused and turned back to them, for the first time letting the worn and haggard look on his face show clearly. "I must go to port and help with the preparations for her journey. She'll leave for the Trials in a week."
The last bit of his words came out, but just barely, his composure taut and almost to the point of breaking.
"Gods help her," Rosethorn whispered, making a gods-circle on her chest. Though I wonder, she thought to herself, if in a few months I might be invoking Tris's name and making god-circles that include her.
"You may go and see her if you like, Briar. You might as well share a few moments with her this week before she leaves, because-" The words Niko didn't say, because you might never see her again, hung heavy in the air and Briar was too painstakingly aware of it.
"Thank you," Briar said as he began making his way towards the attic.
Once he was up the stairs, Niko turned once again to leave and Rosethorn turned once again back to her dried herbs, assuming the roles they had both played over the years, the traveler and the gardener, finding a sort of comfortably and calming familiarity in those roles.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Tris's attic room was crepuscular and dim. Heavy drapes that had not previously been there hung about the windows, blocking the sunlight from entering. Several crystals were strewn about on her night stand, with magickal symbols and markings drawn carefully around them, trying to keep the nearly blinding power that radiated from them contained.
Briar took a moment to gaze a the crystals, even though they caused him to wince as only the sun could. They crystals pulsated, and seemed to remind him greatly of Tris.
He turned to look at her, after two days of being separated from her. She was lying in her bed, twisted sheets draped over her body, only her shoulders and head showing from under them. Her usually pale face had taken on an even whiter countenance, like the color of death, and her coppery hair fanned out around her, making a brilliant contrast, like blood on snow.
She is beautiful, he gently thought as he gazed upon the weak creature before him. A stool was next to the bed, and Briar took a seat on it, as if trying to mimic the actions that Niko had taken earlier this day. He scooted up as close t the bed as he could, and, with small hesitation, took her hand.
She felt cold. Alien.
~Tris?~ he called out tentatively to her, his magickal vines attempting to find some piece of her magickal self to latch on to. He found nothing but a void where he tried to find her. This person that lay before him was not Tris. It was her shell. Maybe there's a little of Tris in there, he told himself, but even if there is, it probably won't resurface until she wakes up.
He squeezed her hand gently, and continued to look upon her. But what happened to her? Why isn't she in her body-"The Crystals."
He turned from her body and now focused on the crystals. He had noticed that they seemed to radiate Tris, and now it made sense; her powers were being stored in the crystals. Briar raised his eyes and glanced around, making sure that no one had entered without his knowing, because he didn't want anyone to see what exactly he was going to do.
Seeing that the coast was clear, he extending a tendril of magick towards one of the crystals. The pull he felt was incredible, and he was sucked into the crystal, into Tris. Images and memories, Tris's I suppose, flashed before him, along with idle thoughts. It was as if he was viewing the world through the eyes of Tris.
It was breakfast, sometime a last winter. Tris, now accompanied with Briar's magickal self, was seated at the table, looking glumly down into her book as the others chattered on.
How can they be so happy all the time? Tris wondered to herself as she turned a page I bet I could be just as perky if I could ever get a full night of sleep.
Before Briar could wonder what she had meant by that thought, images of the nightmare that Tris had suffered the night before fell upon him, visions of half mangled bodies reaching out to her, demanding to know why she had destroyed them when they were innocent. It was almost as if he could smell the stench of their rotting bodies, and feel their slimy grip upon his skin as they grabbed at him, pulling him down below the cold water…Tris physically shook her head, to try and clear the thoughts from her head.
So that's why she is always shaking her head, Magickal Briar thought as he saw her shake her head, an action she did at least three times a day with no visible provocation. Every time she shakes her head it's because she's being haunted by images of that pirate attack…
Tris looked up and her eye caught Briar's as he began helping himself to another bowl of porridge. Magickal Briar did a double take upon seeing himself. Hey, he thought, I'm a pretty handsome guy.
Hey, Tris thought, he's a pretty handsome guy. Oh gods, don't say that. He may be handsome, but YOU are disgusting. Besides, it's only a matter of time until he and Sandry get involved. Tris stirred her porridge idly as she continued to think, and Magickal Briar was engrossed with what she thought, entertaining for the first time the notion that maybe Tris liked him…
Why would anyone choose you over Lady Sandrilene fa Toren? Look at her, she's beautiful! And me, ungodsly hair and glasses. And fat, she added, with anger and self-loathing building up inside of her. Briar could never love me, not when I look like this. I can't even love me…but why do I feel like I might be in love with him?? Gods, I wish I had never been born into this life!
Magickal Briar could feel Tris's eyes watering up as she savagely slammed her book closed and fled from the table. Sandry, Daja and Briar looked up to watch her leave. Magickal Briar noticed a look of compassion and concern in…I guess in my eyes, he thought as he carefully regarded his face. The feelings that he had for Tris were clearly written across his face.
Why doesn't anyone else notice how I look at her? Why didn't I ever notice how she looked at me? She…she's in love with me.
Magickal Briar found himself speechless at that realization, but it was a good speechlessness. Before he had time for anymore though, he began to feel a pull at him. His magickal self was being pulled from the crystal, and he was soon back into his physical body.
"Wow," he whispered to himself, his eyes still riveted on the crystal. That was not a dream, she actually-
He felt a shift on the bed slightly, and a scared voice called out to him.
"Briar?"
Oh oh, maybe drop a line at magdalena134@hotmail.com or review, or the suspense will continue!