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Chapter 9: Zeal For Scones

Beyond and Beyond and Beyond.

The words had echoed in Arenzca's head like a stone dropped in the caves since the moment she had first heard them. Since that dark, starving, hopeful night two seasons ago. Since God spoke to her.

Find the Path of the Bleeding Dawn.

God's instructions were never simple. If they were, why would God ever need to speak? But the sky bled red every day, when the sun rose. That meant east. That meant Arenzca would go east if it meant never seeing home again, if it meant death, if it meant dirtying her paws with the blood of any demon of Vulpuz who would try and stop her.

My house of red harkens for you.

There was no house of red stone on the shore of the beach, only plain-furred woodlanders feasting, waving, and dancing as if it were the Day of Arrival. She smiled back, it had been a long time since she had seen true celebration. At the same time, she kicked, burned, and silenced the devilish part of her mind that whispered it was time to give up, that she should turn back, that God had led her on a fool's errand. At her heart, she knew her service and trials to god would never end. Her destination was not on this beach, but that only meant she would travel further.

Thy will face foes dark and friends true.

But who were the foes, and who were the friends? The beasts on the beach seemed friendly and welcoming, and Arenzca wanted them to be friends, but she had learned not to place too much hope in what she wanted. God planned joy and goodness for some beasts, and evilness for others, but for Arenzca his plan was one of purpose. She had thought Tarmano and his family to be friendly and welcoming, before they attempted to rob her in the night. She had thought that weasel, Bluenose, to be true, before he had ruined all her carefully-laid plans. Her brother had no doubt thought Arenzca to be trustworthy, before she turned him in for deserting the Mardazian army. Betrayal was easy, and there was evil in every heart. But, just as any friend could turn into a foe, any foe could be turned into a friend.

You just had to teach them.

"I have been led here by the Will of The Warrior!" Arenzca spoke as if she were giving the Mardazian army an announcement on where they would be marching off to next. These beach woodlanders seemed the type to be of a small settlement, the type who would respect a forceful presence, who would be awed by the slightest command. "I have been sent here by his word, the word of God!"

"Care for a scone?"

"Of course. Thank you." Arenzca flashed an appreciative smile at the plump mouse who had offered the scone. The goodwife seemed to be the type who was always looking for gratification, for verification that her abilities really were worthy of thanks, who would appreciate appreciation.

As the goodwife strutted away, Arenzca picked at the scone with her fork. It was a strange, hard piece of what looked like a kind of bread, only spotted with dark blue blots and a kind of translucent glaze. Trying not to show her wariness, she took a bite.

"So," began the gray-furred, bright-eyed, and big-eared chieftain-type mouse named Farpaw who sat to the right of her at what seemed to be a foldable table. A table-made-portable, so beasts could sit and eat outside on the beach rather than the comfort of their homes. "Who is this god you speak of?"

Arenzca worked her mouth around the strange bite of scone. The bread part was tough and savory, not at all like the light and soft focaccia breads back at home, which was a harsh contrast to the plain sweetness of the glaze. The dark blots seemed to be a kind of sweet fruit baked into the bread, which actually complemented the scone well, which made her put down the fork to avoid being distracted by the temptation for a second bite. "God is my guardian, my teacher, and my judge. He is everyone's guardian, teacher, and judge."

Customs in Mardaz, and most western lands, dictated that the host speak to their guests in private, first, and learn the intent of whatever conversation would be held. Here, it seemed, beasts had little regard for good communication. Along with Chieftain Farpaw, there was a sullen-faced mousemaid who sat to the left of the chieftain, a suspicious-faced old otter who sat to the right of Arenzca while he pawed the hilt of a dagger, and dozen other beasts besides engaged in their own conversations. Among those who were paying attention to Arenzca, most had snouts scrunched in confusion.

Chieftain Farpaw frowned. "Sounds like a lot of work for one fellow. Can't say I've ever met him, though, and he seems the type I would remember. Don't know how good of a teacher he'd be without telling me anything."

The old otter growled. He seemed the type unhappy with anything. "What is a spirit? Is it… dangerous?"

Arenzca took another bite of the scone, it wouldn't do to make them think she didn't like their food, but it also wouldn't do to actually end up liking the food. God planned for some beasts to indulge in food, but there were some beasts who must not be tempted or distracted. She just had to focus on dulling any sense in her mouth, by gripping the fork tightly in her paw and occasionally glancing at the sun to turn her attention to other senses. With a smile, she told Farpaw, "You have met God. I assure you, there is no beast vile, mad, or proud that God has completely abandoned. You may not know it, but you have met God, you're meeting God, and you will meet God."

The old otter glanced around, as if afraid God would leap from under the ocean and attack the settlement.

"You know who this god reminds me of?" said an inebriated mouse further down the table, holding up a wooden cup of amber brew in one paw. "A good swig of ale." After a sip from the cup, he pulled a lute out of seemingly nowhere and began to sing a drowsy melody praising alcohol, earning laughter around the table.

Arenzca focused on the fork gripped between her paws. It wouldn't do to berate this mouse about the immorality of inebriation. Beasts would want to hear about what problems God could solve for them, not about what problems God could help them overcome. Still, a part of her wanted to tear that filthy bottle from him and flay the bastard until he repented, until he was so devoted he would rather become a Wordless than sin again. But such measures always caused more harm than good, in the long run.

Chieftain Farpaw converted a chuckle into a cough before giving Arenzca a regretful glance. "I apologize for my brother's… boisterousness, Madam Arenzca. Still, I cannot say I fully understand what you mean. It does seem a bit… vague."

Arenzca bit the inside of her cheek. She had converted the disbelievers in Mardaz, she had converted the southern squirrel tribes, she had converted the vermin clans of the Frozen Mountains. In all those places, though, the folk there had some idea of what God was already. Did these beasts not even have a false god, like the Freeblood Corsairs? This was a strange land. A part of her wanted to bring all these lost souls into God's arms, to show them true joy, to rescue them from ignorance. A part of her that still longed for glory wanted to relish in being the first to bring the One Truth to this continent. But God had other plans for her, and she could not stay among these goodbeasts forever. Still, why she was here, she could try and teach them what she could. "Master Farpaw, it may seem vague at first. Everything in life seems vague, at first. We live in a complicated world of many strange things. Every day brings new problems for every beast, problems we only have a vague understanding of. Problems which we have no idea how to overcome. You might see the tangible world as understandable, but, really, is not every next step shrouded in mystery?"

Farpaw chuckled, and rubbed his chin. "There was a time when I thought everything was strange and… fascinating. But now, I am content. I have all these wonderful things about me. Good food, good memories, good… friends. The world seems a lot simpler, once you settle down. Again, all this seems vague. I understand the world around me, and I like it."

"And there is nothing missing, nothing regretted, nothing misunderstood?" Family. Most beasts, especially ones as old as Farpaw, held family as their greatest pride. God said that a lost family is any beast's greatest regret. Farpaw did not mention family among his "wonderful things". Was there any dissatisfaction there? Was he tired of his troublemaking brother? And what of his daughter? The sullen-faced young—

"Of course there's things I don't understand. I don't know how waves work, I don't know how the sun rises, I don't know… how Merril makes these scones taste so good! I still don't know what this god is. I have my regrets. I always wanted to see Noonvale, but… what does this god fellow have to do with any of it?"

"God is a teacher. He explains how the waves work, and how the sun rises, and what we're supposed to do with our lives. You wonder whether you should go to this Noonvale, or across the Sea, or stay here? God would have the answer, as he has all answers, and he can show you the answer. The world is not vague, the future is not vague, and God is not vague. All you need to do is seek out help from God."

Farpaw cocked his head, and opened his mouth to say something. Then he frowned, and leaned down next to his daughter, and laughed.

"What is it, Master Farpaw?"

"Sorry, Miss Arenzca. My daughter just said waves work by 'wind drawing energy through the water'. She knows a lot of stuff like that, you know. She spends a lot of time… reading. I keep telling her she should see the world, but she'd rather learn about waves than sail 'em. Sorry, I'm babbling a bit. God, though… how does he have all these answers? And, again, what is he? And how has he helped… you?"

"He has saved my life countless times. He helped me survive the burning of Mardaz, my homeland. Now, he has told me to cross the ocean, to the East. That is my Purpose."
"How does he tell you these things, though? What would I do to be… told something? What… is… he?"

Before Arenzca could answer, she felt a tug on her leg. She turned and saw a young squirrel, hardly more than an infant, staring up at her.

"You gots weir' fur, Missus Arena," said the little squirrel. "All colorful an' flowy an' colorful. Di' Missus Merril pain' you—"

"Tyko!" The Goodwife who'd baked the scones grabbed the squirrel by an ear, lifting him off the ground. "Why are you bothering the visitor? Why are you making the visitor uncomfortable? Why are you so quick to make your ridiculousness known?" Still holding the blushing squirrel up, she turned to Arenzca, and her face resumed her usual grandmotherly kindness. "Many apologies, Madam. May I ask how long you'll be staying? And any preferences? I can have a room prepared for you. And what about your companions? I noticed they haven't yet left your ship…"

Arenzca cast a glance towards the caves where these mice lived. Caves, dirty, filthy caves. I had sworn to never sleep in such a place again. "Me and my companions will sleep on our boat, thank you very much. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning."

As the Goodwife carried Tyko off, Chieftain Farpaw frowned at Arenzca. "Only a day, are you sure? It seems like you want to spread this… god. I don't know how–"

"I would like to stay, Master Farpaw, I assure you. However, God has given me a purpose, and a destination, and I—must—follow his word."

Farpaw nodded. "A… destination? How does he tell you a destination, I still don't understand how he works. And across the... Great Sea! Do you know much of this land? I have some maps I could show you."

Arenzca nodded. "That would be most helpful. God blesses the generous." And she took another bite of scone.

This little settlement was on the northwest coast of the western continent, south of a land called Lutra, north of a mountain named Salamandastron. Between Salamandastron and these caves Arenzca was standing in, there was the River Moss, which seemed to just keep going east across a land called Mossflower. And, amidst the forests of Mossflower, was a black X labeled "REDWALL ABBEY".

Arenzca placed a paw on the X, frowning, smiling. "My house of red stone awaits you…"

"What's that?" Bergly Farpaw leaned against the wall of his cave, filthy caves, which beasts of these lands apparently used at home. Home, rather than a last resort when one is terrified and lost. The dirt on the walls and floors and the salty sea stench.

"God really does guide us, guide us in the best ways, Master Farpaw. Thank you for your help."

"I'm still confused on what God is, or what you're talking about, or what's… guiding you."

"God is guardian, teacher, and guiding hand. He told me this, Master Farpaw, when I had thought hope was lost:

"Beyond and Beyond and Beyond

Find the path of the bleeding dawn

My house of red harkens for you

Thy will face foes dark and friends few

Until placed embarked tooth for song

Sunrise still on a beast's last dawn

Vengeance hastened on the lie

The fox, axe, iron rain will try

Loss of mine, loss of thine, lost dawn

Beyond and Beyond and Beyond"

Chief Farpaw placed a paw over his face. "You're really… something. Something important, something that has to do with an adventure." He sighed. "I'm done with adventuring. No more adventures… not even of the mind. I've… given up. Not even for the mind. I am sorry, but I am not embarking on some quest to learn about this God. I do hope… you can enjoy your journeys."

Arenzca frowned. Chief Farpaw had seemed the only one genuinely curious about the Truth, but she was not surprised. Most older beasts were too set in their ways to change.

Farpaw stepped up to the map, standing next to her. "The way to Redwall is dangerous, though. Vermin brigands and Guerrilla shrews fight over the River Moss. And… the Painted Ones. It's a difficult journey. Would it be alright if I spent Sparic with you? No one knows Mossflower country better than the old dog, and he can fight better than any beast half his age. He might have grey in whiskers, but… well, if you want to take him, you can. We hardly need protection here, and he'll enjoy the journey."

"If he wishes to join us, he may." Arenzca could not deny a beast the opportunity to pursue his Purpose, and she could potentially guide the otter into God's light. And… Arenzca's crew was woefully inexperienced in fighting. They needed a fighter.

"And…" continued Farpaw with a scrunch of his snout. "Well… It's not the most practical suggestion. But… I'd also ask that you take my young daughter, Berry."

Follow the Path of the Rising Dawn.

The sails unfurled and the Purpose began its journey south. Arenzca stood on the deck, arms raised above her head, stretching towards the sky, to feel the blessings of God.

The four Wordless Crewmembers managed the sails and tiller, directed by Arenzca's cousin and shipmaster Ervanni. His shouts of command and the rocking of the boat had become the only rhythm Arenzca had known for the last four seasons. Sparic Longfletch stood at the helm, searching the waters for any dangers, paw resting on his long dagger at his belt. And, behind Arenzca, leaning against the cabin was the strange young Berry Farpaw. In her paws was the book Arenzca had given her. The True Book.

Beyond and Beyond and Beyond.

Author's Note: It's been a little while since I last updated. Whoops.

As I said before, I think I need to work on my prose. I hope this Arenzca chapter turned out better than the Sanlo chapters in that regard. Rather than making up a backstory on the fly like I did with Sanlo, I actually wrote out Arenzca's backstory and motivations before writing from her perspective. This made the prose (hopefully) a bit better, and also more enjoyable to write, as it felt like I knew the character better. I could think more about the kind of things Arenzca would notice, and her patterns of thought.

Obviously, religion is a very large and complex thing to write about. It's fascinating to me, which is why I want to write about it, but I also see why Brian Jacques left it out of the canon Redwall Universe. I'm worried I may have overdone Arenzca's zeal, though, but on the other hand, zeal is a major part of her character.

I want to avoid personal biases as much as possible, but in concept that is essentially impossible.

As always, feedback is more than welcome.