Blue Drop: Angel's Home: Chapter 12
Honor and Remembrance
An unexpected knock on her office door took Mari'il's attention from the design she was reviewing. ``Come in,'' she said, looking up to see who it might be.
The door opened to admit Loriel. ``Do you have a minute?'' she asked.
``Of course,'' an astonished Mari'il agreed and motioned her to take a seat. ``Welcome to my little office. And thank you again for arranging this job for me.''
``Not at all. From what I hear from Tadael we ought to be thanking you instead. It sounds like you're doing an excellent job.'' Loriel smiled. ``But let me get to the reason I came here. I wanted to tell you in person.'' She paused, then continued in a more formal tone, ``Next week we will be holding a ceremony on the Memorial Plain for all who perished on Forime, and we wondered if you would like to come. I understand if you might not want to after all that Shivariel did to both of you, or since this is honoring those who invaded Mari's home world and killed your parents.'' She still stumbled over addressing Mari and Ekaril individually.
``Thank you,'' said Mari'il, interrupting Loriel's worrying. ``We'd love to come. And... Thank you for holding this ceremony,'' she concluded, still a bit stunned by the news. ``They really do deserve the honor.''
``You're welcome. And thank you for understanding.'' Loriel paused and the uncertain tone returned to her voice. ``You understand how and why we've been keeping the details about Ekaril and Mari classified, so giving you the formal part you should have could pose some problems, but we would still like you to participate.'' She bowed to Mari'il. ``If you do want to take your formal place as an expedition member, then we will just have to figure out how to handle the intelligence issues. For when it comes to a conflict between expediency and honor...''
``No,'' replied Mari'il. An understanding smile grew on her face. ``There's no need to formally include me. I'm happy just being another attendee. And aside from the secrecy issues, I wouldn't want to be a distraction from those we should be honoring.''
``Thank you for understanding. But please realize, Ekaril, that you really are one of those we are honoring. The fact that some miracle allowed you to come back here should never diminish the sacrifices you made, nor the duty you fulfilled. Please believe that.''
Mari silently reinforced Loriel's point here.
``All right.'' She returned a wan smile. ``I'll try.''
Both Mari and Loriel recognized that Ekaril really would try, and also how hard it would be for her.
``Are you really all right with this, Mari?'' Loriel asked in closing. ``I want to make sure you understand that by ancient tradition, anyone who feels a connection to the fallen being honored may come, but it is never allowed to force anyone to come. Everyone attending is considered tied by their mutual bonds to the lost, so no-one may be called a `stranger' there.''
``No, I really do want to come,'' replied Mari'il in her odd accent. ``I specifically want to honor Ekaril and Onomil and their sacrifice, ...and the others as well. My place is with Ekaril.'' She smiled. ``And after all, what world should we call mine? Since coming here with her, this has become my world. Her people shall be my people, and her fate shall be my fate. Whoever she honors, I too will honor. For our lives are one.''
Loriel bowed deeply to Mari'il, truly touched and at a loss for words.
Mari'il's glistening eyes showed that Ekaril was as touched by this as any of them.
``Thank you, Mari, Ekaril,'' said Loriel, finally finding her voice. ``You two truly have a partnership worthy of those out of legend. I am honored to know you.''
ooo OOO ooo
The morning of the ceremony Mari'il took out her full dress uniform, for the fallen and the Memorial Plain deserved no less. While she was putting it on and paying extra attention to get every detail right, Ekaril told Mari some of the history and significance of the Plain.
Long ago, in ancient history, during the First Continental War, the combined armies of Creswell's foe, the Hayer Union, were advancing upon her capital city. Her own army was too far away to return to stop them, and the only force around was the allied Trillian Guard, themselves far from home. The Guard dug themselves in across this plain to block the invaders from the capital of their ally. One side of the plain dropped away in cliffs to the sea while the other rose in impassable mountains, so the Trillian Guard on the plain would block the only passage to the city, if they could but hold. The day of the battle came, and fighting was hard and fierce. Trillians and Hayers fell by the score, and come the end of the day the Trillian lines still held, barely. But the capital of Creswell was safe.
After the war, the people of Creswell erected a monument on the Plain to the Trillians who had died far from home, protecting a city which was not even their own. They had chosen to hold, defending their honor and their ally rather than take the safety of retreat. For they all could have survived had they but given up their allies' city to the invading army.
The Trillians, too, erected a monument there, to watch over the graves of their fallen and keep bright their memory.
Even their foes saw the honor of the Trillian Guard, and after the war the opposing commander arranged for his own monument on the plain. His also was to the fallen, including the Trillian Guard: ``I trust them to watch over our dead as well, for I know their honor—I myself have seen the strength with which they defend it. I could not leave our fallen under better protectors.''
Since then, this plain has come to be seen as the symbolic resting place of all Arume who have fallen far from home, especially those whose bodies are never recovered. Its original name has been forgotten by all but a few scholars and it is known simply as the Memorial Plain. Other monuments have been raised, but by consensus every one has been to all fallen, regardless of the side they fought on. So the plain is now ringed in spires of white stone. The Memorial Plain became an even more significant spot since Gosuta were created and joined the military. As they were artificially-formed and exploded, sacrificing themselves in battle, this plain was seen as the perfect tribute to them. It had taken Mari a while to get used to the concept of Gosuta, but Ekaril had helped her understand. Now she did, and also saw how the plain was special for and to Gosuta.
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Mari'il checked her uniform in the mirror one last time before leaving. As she headed out the door, Mari silently said, [[ Ekaril dear, I want you to be the one controlling our body today, fully. More than just you knowing all the protocol, today is for you. I will always be with you, to support you and love you, but today it is only right that you lead in this sacred event. ]]
Ekaril forbore hugging herself to thank Mari, as that might muss her uniform, but she did let Mari know in the fullest sense possible just how much her understanding and generosity and love meant to her as she took their body and walked out the door.
Mari'il arrived at the slip in the Fleet harbor where the cruiser Elderol waited to take her and others to the Memorial Plain. On the pier standing ready to board, Mari'il found Loriel waiting for her. Beside her stood Phanuel, and Tadael, and all of the rest of her team at 'Ships. She was touched that they all came, and though nobody said or asked, Mari'il herself was one they were especially honoring. After she had asked Tadael for the day off to participate in this ceremony, the rest of her team quietly got together and decided that they too would all attend.
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Elderol landed Mari'il and her comrades on the seaward edge of the Memorial Plain, then backed off into the nearby ocean to await the close of the ceremony, for as important as ships might be, this was a ceremony for people, not for equipment. This ceremony dated back to the earliest days of Arume history, and in honor of tradition, but more importantly in honor of those who'd given their lives, not a person floated off the ground. Their ranks marched together as one, each foot hitting the ground in time as they formed a square upon the green meadow, surrounded by white stone monuments of ages past, looking out over the pure blue ocean.
Mari'il stood together with the ranks of her fellows, all resplendent in shining white of their full dress uniform. The first drum-beats of ``Requiem to the Fallen'' rolled across the meadow and over them, and as one, their arms came up in salute. Ekaril remembered her fallen comrades: Onomil who gave her life to save Blue, Beruthiel and her landing party whose lives were snuffed out by that same explosion, the innocent crew of Novaal whom she killed, and many, many more. She was able to remain at attention, saluting, only from years of practice and because the very act and effort of doing so honored these comrades and their sacrifice. It was a supreme effort, and she almost broke once while going over her own list of the fallen in her head, when she reached Mari's parents who died saving their daughter—for they were no less worthy of honor than any others. Mari's gratitude was overwhelming.
In one way only, did this differ from her most formal attention. When the clear notes of the strings climbed heavenward above the supporting chords from the horns, Ekaril let her tears flow, washing clean her own feelings of bereavement, of anguish, of not having done all she could. She stood tall, tears running freely down her cheeks, carrying away some of the pain she still kept in her heart. Mari stood with her, grieving as well, crying as well. And they each cried for the one they had saved, for the one who made this sacrifice all worthwhile, for the one who gave them a new life here they could share.
As the last notes of ``Requiem to the Fallen'' drifted away, the descending sun reached the ocean's far edge. It's setting rays touched each of the serene white shafts of the monuments surrounding the plain, turning them golden and crimson, alight with its fire: each a torch lit in memory of the fallen for as long as the planet would turn.
Thus ended the ceremony. It was a ceremony of thanks, and one of farewell, but it was also one of beauty: the beauty of the music, the beauty of the plain and monuments, the beauty of their precise ranks angelic in their immaculate uniforms, the beauty of the setting sun, all a fitting tribute to the beauty of their comrades' sacrifice.
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Mari'il sat among her comrades again as Elderol took them back across the ocean to their home port and back to their normal lives. Few said anything, but Ekaril was grateful for their supportive presence. She felt drained by the events of the day, but would not have missed it for anything. It brought her an odd sense of peace and of completion. Mari, with her special insight, thought that perhaps the ancient traditions of this ceremony had helped Ekaril lay aside some of her guilt over the Kamioki Island incident and the loss of Blue. Maybe it was joining her comrades in honoring these dead; maybe Ekaril was able to leave some of this burden of guilt at the Memorial Plain to be watched over by fallen there; and maybe her tears had helped wash away her feelings of guilt. None of the reasons mattered to Mari. What did matter was that they all had been able to honor their fallen, and most important of all that it made Ekaril feel better.
Author's Note:
This chapter is one of the few cases where I can point to a specific inspiration. I had no thoughts of these events when I first drafted the outline for Angel's Home. I knew that having something to help Ekaril with her guilt over the deaths on Earth would be good, but when and exactly what were completely unformed. Then inspiration hit, in this case musical. I happened to be listening to the soundtrack for the live-action H2 TV series when track 15, Gloria, came on, and I had my answer.
When I got home, I played the track again and sat down to write. The ceremony itself was easy, but such take meaning and significance from their history and traditions. What were these? I felt they were there, waiting for me to describe. I tried the same trick with the same music again, and the story of the Trillian Guard and the Memorial plan just flowed out onto the page. And so I found the story of the Arume equivalent of Arlington and Gettysburg, and also the stage for and an opportunity to help assuage some of Ekaril's feelings of guilt for those lost under her command.