»
Main Forums
»
Passions in Prose
»
The Seeker
| Passions in Prose |
|
The Seeker |
|
|
Kethry Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082Victoria Australia 
|
I am a seeker of the blue flame of Makata and in the year 3,013 I will quest for the flame, as will others called in the year of my choosing. At my birthing I was chosen and the flame of Makata grew bright at my presence. I do not remember it, although my father tells me it was a time of great rejoicing for all but the caste. We are a people given to peace and not made for the quests of the priestesses who run the temple of Makata. We are a small caste living in a land of many Gods and yet we do not follow them. Our path has been chosen by the one true God and we follow in the way, therefore my father cried when I was chosen but did not dare deny the calling, for to do that would bring about the destruction of the caste and the annihilation of our way. He gave lip service to the edicts of the priestesses while yet keeping his heart pure and his faith unsullied. My mother, I have been told, rejoiced with the world for she was not of the caste and yearned for the riches the choosing would bring. She had become enamoured of the teachings of the caste at the same time she had fallen in love with my father and had followed faithfully in the way until the day I was chosen, then it seemed that discontent set in and on my third birthing day she left saying that she would rather live in the world than apart from it. I vaguely remember the fight where my mother tried to carry me off so that the riches of the priestesses of Makata might be hers but my father would not allow it. I had been born into the caste and could not leave by choice; the one true way would remain my way until released from the calling by the one true God. I remember with disquiet the fury of my mother as she left without a trace. I have not seen her from that day to this. Now the flame grows ever dimmer as the year of the quest draws near and I fear it will be snuffed completely ere the quest is done. I am not afraid, except a little and my fear is mostly that my heart will not be pure enough. The forty-two others also chosen have expressed the same fear, although much of their time is taken up with pleasure. Pleasure that I have no heart for because of the warnings in my mind. It may have been different if I had not been of the caste or if I had not spent the first ten years in the care of my father and his kin. It is the way of the priestesses to choose the quester and leave them with their family for ten years of training. No one had yet gainsaid the edicts of the priestesses and it was inconceivable in their minds that anyone would and so they trusted in the power that held sway and left the children with families. I think, that from the writings I have seen, that they discovered how many children pined to death without the nurture of their families in the formative years and too many were lost to the quest to make it worthwhile. Therefore edicts were made to ensure all families of those chosen, followed the training program and for the most part, families enjoyed the notoriety and prosperity of the twice yearly gifts at hoarfrost and harvest and willingly trained those children lucky enough to be chosen. Yet no one who had been chosen from the caste had maintained the way as zealously as my father and no one chosen had remained faithful to the way when the lure of riches was presented. My father decided early that in order to remain pure a great deception needed to be carried out. My father disobeyed the teachings and the edicts to teach me of the way, although he accepted the gifts with a glad heart for they would ease the burden of poverty that hung like a pall over the caste. He was cautious though and did not redeem those gifts that were needed for the following year to satisfy the priestesses that the edicts were being followed. Always come harvest when the search was on I was bedecked with jewels and paraded in front of the priestesses who looked closely at me, smiled as if they had seen something special inside me and had moved on to the next candidate. At hoarfrost, the acolytes of the priestesses did not look so closely and it was enough to stuff me with dates and sweetmeats on the day before the festival and rub my skin with the oil of the olive in order that the acolytes believed that the edicts were followed. Once each year, all those chosen made their way to the central city of Purdu to be presented. At first it was the burden of the chosen one's family to see they were presented but as they grew, the hearts of the chosen desired to follow in the paths of the priestesses and a great restlessness overtook them until they came to Purdu and to the temple of their own accord. When they approached their tenth birthing year they came ready to stay for as long as the training for the quest lasted. I too felt a restlessness grow within me and came to the central city in my ninth year and as my ninth year closed and my tenth birthing year drew near. I determined to go to Purdu and live there until the quest was done. My father did not prevent me and explained he had taught me as much as was possible in the truth of the way. He had taught me of the small deceptions that would allow me to keep my place, the fragility of stomach that would allow my dietary requirements to be met. He taught me to cultivate a liking for solitude so that I might meditate and pray without the watchful and curious eyes of those around me. He taught me to be wise both in the way of speech and in the way of thought and he equipped me fully with all the gaudies and jewels we had been given at harvest and hoarfrost and that he had not dared to sell. The necklet of power that glowed with the internal light of the blue flame went with me of course, I had not ever removed that since the day I was chosen and it was given to me. In the first year of my training I was told I could have the desires of my heart, many of the other chosen asked for jewels and rich food and were given it. I asked for books about Makata, the acolytes looked askance at me for book learning is not something treasured among the people, only the caste value lettering as highly as the oral history that is passed from generation to generation and teach their young to read fluently. It may have been that they considered my desire to learn as blind devotion to Makata, it was not. They gave me the books with pictures and when I tired of them, I sent them running fifty times a day for another book, just one more. Then they gave me the greatest gift of all; access to the hall of books where all knowledge is kept, although there are few who can now understand the wisdom held within the pages. There they left me alone to play and my quest began. I was not looking for ways to worship Makata, I was looking for ways to destroy him, to expose his weaknesses and find his vulnerable places, for Makata is a dragon god who will devour me if I let him, at least so my father has said. The seeker of the blue flame must be wise and strong and my father taught me well in the days of innocence before guile became my way of life. I searched all through harvest and at hoarfrost my heart was weary with nothing found. I was not to know that come hoarfrost a clue to the answer would come to me in a most unexpected way. As an acolyte of the priestesses it was our role to give the gifts of hoarfrost the precious baubles and jewels and we were sent in groups with some coming for the first time but others who were on their year of quest once the season turned. I was talking to one of the chosen from the third year of training and I mentioned that it would be good to complete training and become a priestess so that I might go out at harvest instead of hoarfrost. She laughed and said the same priestesses had remained constant throughout many years and she had heard tales from her village that the priestesses who had chosen of her great grandparents' generation were the same who had chosen her. Then she went on to say the light of the priestesses dimmed with the waning of the year and they aged, then when the new questers were sent out the flame of their youth bloomed again. She said acolytes did not return to the temple after quest and she did not know what became of them. This led to me to reread some of the older passages about the chosen that had puzzled me before it seems from what I have read that my father is right. Makata will devour me - literally, for the dragon God is sent the chosen not as seekers of the blue flame but as sacrifices. In the second year of my training I asked for the materials to make armour, I think the acolytes did not understand my request, for first they sent me silks and satins in the colour of the rainbow. These I refused and it seemed as if I would be able to prepare fully. Next they sent me the softest leathers and furs, these were a little better but not enough to meet my need. My father must have sensed my desire, for a wandering tinker born of the caste, came to the door selling pots and pans. In the purchase of kitchenware he whispered he had a special parcel for me and furtively passed me a tightly wrapped bundle. It was a good thing none of the other chosen had seen me for it would have spelt my doom instantly. I was already seen as strange and secretive and the priestesses would have cast me to Makata without pause, either that or they would have seen to my demise personally. That did not happen often, but it did happen. One of the younger chosen, who grated on everyone's nerves, had already been killed in a training accident. In the package were thousands upon thousands of tiny rings wrought from the black iron that comes from the earth at great cost, along with this was a note from my father beseeching me to find a use for the scrap metal he had sent. The caste maybe a people of peace but we know of the treachery of war and we are trained from early days to combat that. I used the leather and fur to supplement my supply of iron rings and it was in my search for more leather that I came across a curious thing, it looked like tightly woven cloth, but the shape gave it the appearance of skin perhaps of some long dead creature. The fabric held its own light and lay iridescent and scaled in the gloom. My curiosity overcame and I picked it up, it felt supple in my hand although the weave of the fabric was so tough I could not break it, in that moment I desired it above all else. Despite my desire, my inbred caution caused me to leave the fabric where it was, it had the appearance of great age and disuse but who knows where the priestesses wander and how quickly it would be missed. As the year turned I built a suit of armour that would have made my father proud and still I desired to wear the fabric born of wonder, though I did not return again to the vault where it was held. In the third year of my training I was given the freedom of the temple and the vaults beneath in return for meeting the desires of the first year chosen ones. As a full acolyte I was as prepared as the priestesses would allow for me to meet Makata and claim the blue fire held in his possession, but I was not trained enough for my liking and I forged a weapon made of silver that I gleaned from the melted down coins given to the temple in tribute. These I hid in my secret cache, not liking the deception but seeing no other choice. Legend has it that if the heart of the seeker is pure and the core of the blue flame is pierced by the finest silver blade, then Makata willingly gives up the flame to the new bearer. All power and honour is then given to the seeker of the flame. I do not know how much of the legend is truth or if my heart is pure enough to wrest the blue flame from the dragon god but I mean to try my best, to satisfy my own desire and to make my father proud. At both harvest and hoarfrost I went with the priestesses to choose new candidates for the quest where many gifts of wealth were given, almost as if in dowry to the sacrifice the children would make. Each new village that had a child chosen was to lose her forever to the quest when she turned ten. Rumour had it that those who survived the quest went on to become priestesses of the order, although I knew that to be a lie. I wondered why is it that every year new candidates must be chosen and if the priestesses survived in another way when there were no candidates. That little ponder led me to re-read the legends of Makata and it was here I discovered a little known legend, that claimed the priestesses themselves had been servants of the dragon god and had usurped his power by stealing the blue flame, they became great with power until the flame waned, which it did yearly, after some time when the priestesses were at the nadir of power they went in supplication to Makata only to find that he had grown in power with the waning of the flame. Makata had shed his skin in the waning of the flame and had been renewed. Makata bargained with them, he offered them death or slavery and the priestesses too used to power and long life agreed to a blood ritual. They became slaves to his will in return to unlimited power over the world. I read on avidly now and in one small sentence that caught my eye, the answer to the riddle of the sacrifices came to me. Each year the priestesses must send chosen sacrifices to the mouth of Makata where they would be devoured. The elect would be chosen through the brightening of the flame and all chosen must be sent on quest. None would survive, for if there came one who could defeat the dragon god the order would be overturned, the priestesses would burn where they stood and a new order would begin. The legend speaks to me but I must think more on the truth of it. The quest is ready; the year has turned and a new year has begun. With tympani and horns the chosen are sent out. Although we are sent out with great ceremony and joyous laughter none may accompany us on the quest, for it is given to the chosen alone to succeed or fail by their own merit. I wear my armour beneath my clothing that none may know my intention for I aim to kill Makata and claim the blue flame for my own. My silver blade is well hid beneath the folds of my kirtle and I have purified my heart with prayer and fasting. I am as ready as I will ever be. We ran boldly, the chosen and I, fleet of foot and proud of heart; we ran to the mountains of smoke and fire where Makata dwells and the blue flame can be found. We ran on and on, until wearied we dropped one by one and slept in the place we had dropped. I too slept and in the fastness of my body I dreamed the strangest dream. I dreamt I saw the priestesses gathered around an altar made of blood and bone, on the altar lay the iridescent cloth I had seen and coveted and it seemed that the priestesses, so beautiful and eternal in real life wore the visages of crones. They were aged and corrupt and a miasma of death hung around about their crowns and covered them like cloaks. I awoke suddenly, shivering with fright, all around the chosen slumbered on; no dreams of terror disturbed their sleep. Too afraid to return to dreams I spent the rest of the night in payer and still the images of the dream hovered at the edge of my thoughts in brightest warning. As we approached the kingdom of Makata, we were in great fear, however the great wyrm came out and his beauty overwhelmed us, some of the chosen walked straight into his waiting jaws as if mesmerised and when they were consumed I saw in my mind's eye, the blue flame grow brighter and the priestesses regain their lost youth. I heard in my head the cackle of their voices in glee; along with the whispering susurrations of Makata bidding me to throw off my weapons and come to him. I desired strongly to go to him but my faith in the one true God allowed me to resist. One by one my companions fell to the lure of Makata as I edged my way closer to his lair. The smoke and fumes of his breath reeked of sulphur and other unnameable things and I covered my face in protection, the silk of my garment made a fine covering and I found that with my eyes and mouth swathed in silk the call of Makata was less powerful and I could move again. Makata seemed to become less aware of me and I crept near to his belly and prepared to stab him to death using my silver blade. I was close to the shadow of his great bulk and underneath his eye when I saw in the distance the glow of the blue flame, hidden amongst the priceless jewel hoard that even now was being added to as Makata stripped the baubles from the charred and chewed bones of the chosen. My eye became fixed on the flame and I was consumed by it, fascinated to the point of unwariness; I did not see the great tail sweep round and catch me by the midriff, knocking my feet from under me and flinging me high in the air. I landed; half blinded by pain and blood I swung my blade carelessly, not caring whether I killed the beast or not but only desiring revenge for my hurt. Fortune was with me for my blade found the blue flame and scythed it in twain. Makata looked blankly for a moment as the flame flew unerringly to my bloodied hand where it lightly rested without heat or pain. "Ah!" Came the hissing response of the dragon, "you have killed me." Then it collapsed in upon itself leaving only the iridescent cloth I had so desired before. Dragon skin I thought to myself, I could put it on and have to power to defeat the priestesses, I moved towards it hesitantly, in awe of the power it contained and a warning rang like a bell in my mind. "If you take up the skin you will become like Makata, ensnared by the blue flame and trapped in this place until you are defeated and you also turn to dust. Your desire will become your chains and your prison." I hear the voice and understand the teaching of it but the flame causes me to move closer to the skin. It is so desirable - so very desirable, surely one touch cannot harm me... copywrite 16th September 2002 Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind. Unknown |
||
| © Copyright 2002 Lynne Dale - All Rights Reserved | |||
Marsha
since 2000-07-10
Posts 7423Maidstone Kent England |
Keth beloved heart when the words flow across my soul in a stream of softened starlight, when the tale you weave catches me in its net of wonder and holds me spell-bound, when the refreshing dew of your wordy wonder brushes through my mind with a touch of magic. I know that you have done it again. Whenever I read you I feel hear and see the utterly wonderful story. You show it in its sweeping grandeur right down to the humble abode of your briefest character. Your writing is always plot driven, there is no flagging in the adventure, no let up in the perfect description, and the characters are believable. Are you good, no darling heart you certainly aren’t good, you are utterly utterly perfect and you simply get better. You know I love this it is one of your perfect writes simply exquisite.   Love and warm stuff As always Mushy  Breathe through the heat of our desire |
||
|
Kethry Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082Victoria Australia |
Mushy thanks for responding to this, I know it's a little long it seems I couldn't stop. Kethry Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind. Unknown |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
