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kuangningIt's here, in part, for feedback and pressure. I'm counting on y'all to push me on this. This isn't all of it, but it's a good chunk of it, and the rest will make it here soon.
GODSEED
Prologue – Judgment Day
[Void.]
Within the void, though, there was a sense of expectancy. The universe awaited the return of The One from His wanderings. Among the myriad countless planets, satellites, stars, and other creations, those who could feel the immanence of the return went about their existences in assurance and quiet peace. Those who could not went about theirs in ignorance, playing out their days as they always had.
The day was a warm one, and the Sulari schoolteacher, Jula’an, loosened his cloak slightly and pushed his hair out of his face before continuing the story he was telling, smiling down at the small faces around him, upturned to catch each word. The story of the Creation was, of course, an old one, but one the littles loved anyway, and he had moved class outdoors and abandoned his previous plans for teaching arithmetic when it had become clear that not even he could concentrate for long on solemnly intoned tables while the trees rustled invitingly outside the classroom’s open windows. Lowering his voice conspiratorially, he took up the thread of the story again, hiding an inward smile of contentment at the younglings’ rapt attention.
Not everyone, however, shared the class’ joy in the day. The chief elder, En’vil, scowled at the sight of the knot of littles gathered loosely around their layabout schoolteacher. En’vil’s own children were long since grown into staid, dutiful men and women, and he reflected irritably that he and his wife Delen had not accomplished the task of raising them by allowing their offspring… even in his mind he used the word offspring rather than children… to run wild outdoors when they ought to have been indoors, learning something useful.
He was annoyed enough, when a small girl strayed from the group to curtsy deeply and offer him a rather wilted wildflower in a grubby fist, that he disregarded the offering entirely, instead seizing the wrist of the hapless child, and towing her inexorably in his wake as he stalked toward the group. He tossed his mantle of hair behind him as he went, allowing himself a moment’s satisfaction in the fact that it had been braided recently, and now hung, straight and shining, to his ankles. He also noted with disdain that Jula’an’s own hair fell, unbraided, to his waist, blown about by the breezes. There were even stray florets caught in it, though whether that was the doing of the zephyrs or of the younglings, it would have been impossible for anyone but a witness to say with any degree of certainty. Whatever the cause, En’vil decided, it was certainly a disgraceful state of affairs, that into the hands of a layabout and a sloven were commended the minds of the Sulari youth. Children required a firm hand and an impeccable example, and Jula’an, it was plain to see, could provide them with neither.
Jula'an watched the elder's approach with no outward sign of irritation, smiling down at the younglings instead. "Honored One," he greeted cheerfully, sweeping a bow as deep as courtesy demanded and retrieving the hand of the luckless child still in tow, "so good of you to restore Sulaya to us. Won't you join us for the retelling of the Creation story?" He hid a sigh as the scowl spread further across En'vil's face, like thunderclouds obscuring a mountain peak. Whatever he had just said to displease the elder, one thing was certain... he would soon know exactly what his transgression was.
He did not have long to wait. En'vil drew himself up to his full height, and, ignoring the now-repressed children staring wide-eyed and nervous at the two adults, he blustered impressively, "do you teach the Creation, then, as a -story-? The precepts upon which our children must live their lives, do you teach them that they are nothing but pleasant fables? May The One judge between us, then, and know that I did not raise fourteen younglings to productive adulthood by leading them to think that our beginnings and our lore were the stuff of lax hours spent in play!"
Jula'an did sigh, then, softening the tension with a chuckle for the children's benefit. He attempted, with a gesture, to indicate to the elder that the discussion was perhaps best not aired in front of the young audience, but En'vil was just beginning the tirade, and was obviously not disposed to listen. Grimacing slightly, Jula'an shrugged and settled in to wait for a break in the rush of words.
****
She rested comfortably on a patch of grass, giggling as the breezes blew strands of the feathery tops into her face. Around her, the others relaxed, talking in mild excitement about a new find, a possible new source of amusement.
Their clothes were soft and shimmering, their features dainty and well-formed, marred only by ubiquitous expressions of ennui. It would have been obvious to the most cursory of glances that they were in their prime, but their haughtiness was, regrettably, also apparent. They stood in a loose circle around the child, carefully coiffed hairstyles not the least bit daunted by the breezes, as though no wind would dare to disarrange a single gleaming strand. The quiet conversation rose and fell, and through it all, the child at its center gurgled on, oblivious to the fact that she was being wrangled over politely.
“She was my find,” Anya declared petulantly. “I want to keep her with me.” “Come now, what would you do with her?” Siever interjected lazily. “Be reasonable. In a little while, she will begin to make that awful racket human younglings all make, and besides, she’ll also begin to smell. She’s too small to control her functions.” His nose wrinkled in distaste. Anya lofted the child, and she giggled. The expressions around her brightened momentarily at the sound, and for a moment the opinion of the group seemed to sway in Anya’s favour… and then the caterwauling and trampling of an adult female could be heard.
Siever stretched indolently. “Now you’ve done it. The mother has discovered the cub is gone. And you’ve never faced one before except in sport, but they can be dangerous. What would you suggest we do now? Still determined to keep it?” Anya had just pursed her lips obstinately when the babe, upset by its mother’s cries, also began to wail. That decided the matter, and Anya dropped the child so abruptly that Siever barely had time to catch her before she hit. Under his sun-bronzed skin, he was visibly paler as he rounded on Anya, after setting the child down safely. “Are you mad, or simply weary of existence?” he demanded. “Dropping the thing from that height would have killed it!”
The uneasy murmurs from around him only seemed to fuel Siever’s growing anger, and he spat, actually spat, into the grass at his feet. The murmurs grew sullen, and several members of the group turned their backs and began to walk away, evidently finding his breach of courtesy unbearable. His voice, when it lashed out next, stopped them cold. “Imbeciles! You play at being children, and you forget the first thing you were taught as children. Or did your ayahs fail you so dismally? What is the One Rule?”
Toril answered without thinking. “The one thing that is forbidden us, in this world or any other, is to destroy innocent life. For on the day that a sentient being sheds the blood of an innocent, it shall surely die.”
The words, delivered with the cadences and tone of ingrained memory, rolled quietly over the assembled group, and the universal reaction of the group, though delayed, was also distinct, as the meaning of the words struck home. Anya blanched, and found herself suddenly at the center of a circle of eyes which were none of them kind or approving at all. She edged away from the child, as if to do so would distance her from the mistake from whose consequences she had been so narrowly saved.
Siever’s lip curled faintly but unmistakably. “That’s right, Anya. It does rather put a different spin on things, does it not? This cub might have been the cause of your death... and would not have had to lift a finger in her own defense to do so. And suddenly, the idea of playing with her has lost its appeal, has it? I expected as much. What do you intend to do with her now?” Anya arched an eyebrow, trying desperately to appear unruffled. “What shall I do with her? Why, what is there to be done? Leave her here, we certainly can find amusement elsewhere, can we not?”
Siever shook his head, allowing himself to show faint amusement. “Leave her here? Will you really, Anya? And if she dies out here, abandoned and hungry and cold… what then? On whose hands will her death be?” He had the satisfaction of watching her blanch under the onslaught. And if inwardly he recoiled at his own implacable front, he did not allow himself to soften. Anya was a fool. The sooner that became apparent, the better off everyone, including Anya herself, would be.
****
GODSEED
Prologue – Judgment Day
[Void.]
Within the void, though, there was a sense of expectancy. The universe awaited the return of The One from His wanderings. Among the myriad countless planets, satellites, stars, and other creations, those who could feel the immanence of the return went about their existences in assurance and quiet peace. Those who could not went about theirs in ignorance, playing out their days as they always had.
The day was a warm one, and the Sulari schoolteacher, Jula’an, loosened his cloak slightly and pushed his hair out of his face before continuing the story he was telling, smiling down at the small faces around him, upturned to catch each word. The story of the Creation was, of course, an old one, but one the littles loved anyway, and he had moved class outdoors and abandoned his previous plans for teaching arithmetic when it had become clear that not even he could concentrate for long on solemnly intoned tables while the trees rustled invitingly outside the classroom’s open windows. Lowering his voice conspiratorially, he took up the thread of the story again, hiding an inward smile of contentment at the younglings’ rapt attention.
Not everyone, however, shared the class’ joy in the day. The chief elder, En’vil, scowled at the sight of the knot of littles gathered loosely around their layabout schoolteacher. En’vil’s own children were long since grown into staid, dutiful men and women, and he reflected irritably that he and his wife Delen had not accomplished the task of raising them by allowing their offspring… even in his mind he used the word offspring rather than children… to run wild outdoors when they ought to have been indoors, learning something useful.
He was annoyed enough, when a small girl strayed from the group to curtsy deeply and offer him a rather wilted wildflower in a grubby fist, that he disregarded the offering entirely, instead seizing the wrist of the hapless child, and towing her inexorably in his wake as he stalked toward the group. He tossed his mantle of hair behind him as he went, allowing himself a moment’s satisfaction in the fact that it had been braided recently, and now hung, straight and shining, to his ankles. He also noted with disdain that Jula’an’s own hair fell, unbraided, to his waist, blown about by the breezes. There were even stray florets caught in it, though whether that was the doing of the zephyrs or of the younglings, it would have been impossible for anyone but a witness to say with any degree of certainty. Whatever the cause, En’vil decided, it was certainly a disgraceful state of affairs, that into the hands of a layabout and a sloven were commended the minds of the Sulari youth. Children required a firm hand and an impeccable example, and Jula’an, it was plain to see, could provide them with neither.
Jula'an watched the elder's approach with no outward sign of irritation, smiling down at the younglings instead. "Honored One," he greeted cheerfully, sweeping a bow as deep as courtesy demanded and retrieving the hand of the luckless child still in tow, "so good of you to restore Sulaya to us. Won't you join us for the retelling of the Creation story?" He hid a sigh as the scowl spread further across En'vil's face, like thunderclouds obscuring a mountain peak. Whatever he had just said to displease the elder, one thing was certain... he would soon know exactly what his transgression was.
He did not have long to wait. En'vil drew himself up to his full height, and, ignoring the now-repressed children staring wide-eyed and nervous at the two adults, he blustered impressively, "do you teach the Creation, then, as a -story-? The precepts upon which our children must live their lives, do you teach them that they are nothing but pleasant fables? May The One judge between us, then, and know that I did not raise fourteen younglings to productive adulthood by leading them to think that our beginnings and our lore were the stuff of lax hours spent in play!"
Jula'an did sigh, then, softening the tension with a chuckle for the children's benefit. He attempted, with a gesture, to indicate to the elder that the discussion was perhaps best not aired in front of the young audience, but En'vil was just beginning the tirade, and was obviously not disposed to listen. Grimacing slightly, Jula'an shrugged and settled in to wait for a break in the rush of words.
****
She rested comfortably on a patch of grass, giggling as the breezes blew strands of the feathery tops into her face. Around her, the others relaxed, talking in mild excitement about a new find, a possible new source of amusement.
Their clothes were soft and shimmering, their features dainty and well-formed, marred only by ubiquitous expressions of ennui. It would have been obvious to the most cursory of glances that they were in their prime, but their haughtiness was, regrettably, also apparent. They stood in a loose circle around the child, carefully coiffed hairstyles not the least bit daunted by the breezes, as though no wind would dare to disarrange a single gleaming strand. The quiet conversation rose and fell, and through it all, the child at its center gurgled on, oblivious to the fact that she was being wrangled over politely.
“She was my find,” Anya declared petulantly. “I want to keep her with me.” “Come now, what would you do with her?” Siever interjected lazily. “Be reasonable. In a little while, she will begin to make that awful racket human younglings all make, and besides, she’ll also begin to smell. She’s too small to control her functions.” His nose wrinkled in distaste. Anya lofted the child, and she giggled. The expressions around her brightened momentarily at the sound, and for a moment the opinion of the group seemed to sway in Anya’s favour… and then the caterwauling and trampling of an adult female could be heard.
Siever stretched indolently. “Now you’ve done it. The mother has discovered the cub is gone. And you’ve never faced one before except in sport, but they can be dangerous. What would you suggest we do now? Still determined to keep it?” Anya had just pursed her lips obstinately when the babe, upset by its mother’s cries, also began to wail. That decided the matter, and Anya dropped the child so abruptly that Siever barely had time to catch her before she hit. Under his sun-bronzed skin, he was visibly paler as he rounded on Anya, after setting the child down safely. “Are you mad, or simply weary of existence?” he demanded. “Dropping the thing from that height would have killed it!”
The uneasy murmurs from around him only seemed to fuel Siever’s growing anger, and he spat, actually spat, into the grass at his feet. The murmurs grew sullen, and several members of the group turned their backs and began to walk away, evidently finding his breach of courtesy unbearable. His voice, when it lashed out next, stopped them cold. “Imbeciles! You play at being children, and you forget the first thing you were taught as children. Or did your ayahs fail you so dismally? What is the One Rule?”
Toril answered without thinking. “The one thing that is forbidden us, in this world or any other, is to destroy innocent life. For on the day that a sentient being sheds the blood of an innocent, it shall surely die.”
The words, delivered with the cadences and tone of ingrained memory, rolled quietly over the assembled group, and the universal reaction of the group, though delayed, was also distinct, as the meaning of the words struck home. Anya blanched, and found herself suddenly at the center of a circle of eyes which were none of them kind or approving at all. She edged away from the child, as if to do so would distance her from the mistake from whose consequences she had been so narrowly saved.
Siever’s lip curled faintly but unmistakably. “That’s right, Anya. It does rather put a different spin on things, does it not? This cub might have been the cause of your death... and would not have had to lift a finger in her own defense to do so. And suddenly, the idea of playing with her has lost its appeal, has it? I expected as much. What do you intend to do with her now?” Anya arched an eyebrow, trying desperately to appear unruffled. “What shall I do with her? Why, what is there to be done? Leave her here, we certainly can find amusement elsewhere, can we not?”
Siever shook his head, allowing himself to show faint amusement. “Leave her here? Will you really, Anya? And if she dies out here, abandoned and hungry and cold… what then? On whose hands will her death be?” He had the satisfaction of watching her blanch under the onslaught. And if inwardly he recoiled at his own implacable front, he did not allow himself to soften. Anya was a fool. The sooner that became apparent, the better off everyone, including Anya herself, would be.
****
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Date: 2001-11-05 01:12 pm (UTC)more please?