[Khar'Shan] Mended Pieces (Closed)

Mindful of her privacy, Ekarn waited outside for Chana to dry her belongings.

He couldn't help it, she reminded him so much of Mi'Shei, but why? Was it her appearance? Her mannerisms? Mi'Shei had always been somewhat demure.

He had barely met her, knew her name, what was going on?

Very, very carefully, she picked up the blade, sliding it carefully between the cover, and the first couple pages clinging to it. Her other hand set to work, and she pulled, very lightly, on the paper, using the tiny hairs at the end of her fingers to grip, instead of the skin.

She had no idea how long this would take. Her spare garments were already starting to dry, so she pulled one of them, and started ripping small pieces of cloth from the dress. As she pulled apart each thin, fragile page, she placed a scrap of fabric between them, then sat and waited for it to be suitably dry before turning the page and repeating the process again.

And from the ash and sand of the Great Desert, the Pillars rose, granted the Names first Spoken by the First, the Eight that would govern.

Chana knew them by Heart, even as she read the familiar Words on the page, the verses unchanged from the walls of the Cha'lev caves they had been first inscribed upon, tens of thousands of years before she would ever know life. The story of the First, the creation of the Lands, the rules that governed Order and Honour. The legend of the Tryst, the epic of Ur'peq, the Bones of the Hollow-eyed, and the poetry of Chana, for whom her mother had Named her for.

She wondered if such things truly Touched the lives outside the valleys as they had Touched her, and her kin in Khaljah. Her Purpose had never faltered, but to some, she imagined, the Tar'isi was - and would always be - simply another book of tales.

Finally, his curiosity got the better of him.

"Is everything alright?" He said as he knocked on the door.

The knock startled her, and it was luck that had her pulling a piece of clothe apart, rather than pages. She blinked, looking over at the door curiously. "Ah, yes!" She paused, looking around the empty room. "You may come in, if you wish."

Company would be pleasant, and she did want to speak with him. She had original come towards the camp to Learn, after all, and she was not doing much of that sitting in a shed with a generator alone. And he was interesting, which made conversation better, usually.

Ekarn was a bit hesitant to walk in at first, not out of shyness, but it seemed rather odd that he went from helping her off the surf to holding a private conversation in such a short while. Still...

The door opened as he took a sit near the corner. "How is the book?"

"As...well as can be expected," she said, carefully laying down a piece of cloth between pages. "A few more hours, I suppose. The pages are fragile, so it's tedious. My apologies for the intrusion."

It was difficult to know if he understood that. Paper was a rarity outside of Khaljah, and even there, the commonness of it could be debated. Here, outside the valleys, paper was an antique item, something the average caste would never see, and books were valuable artifacts of the upper castes, those born to the privilege.

She wondered if he'd ever seen one before, and if that was why he had stared at it so oddly. Chana looked up at him, where he sat in the corner, and blinked curiously.

"Have you ever seen a Book before?" she asked suddenly. If she was going to Learn, it would be best to start asking questions, right?

Well, that would be easy to answer.

"As a matter of fact, yes." He replied "The very same that you are tending to."

She blinked at him, startled by that, all four eyelids flickering over her Soul in a few rapid motions. Really? Had some Wa lker passed through here before, their own copy of the Mantras in hand? Or had he spoken with a Mouth, who had come to Preach? There were so very few copies of the Book outside the valleys of Khaljah, she had never expected him to know of one.

He had known what she was, where she was from. Was he - no, he had said he was from the colonies. Ivoraq. Some vague part of Chana's mind dug up the long list of Hegemony colonies, and what the old governmenet had valued them for - the standard rote for school children, even in places like Khaljah where such geography was a cursory mention.

Mining.

Had a Walker or a Mouth, perhaps, found their way to the Stars? Found their Purpose far from Home?

...Was he a Follower, who knew the Meanings of the Names, who took solace and comfort in his Faith?

Or were there other reasons? Some officials of the Hegemony had secretly kept the Mantras in their libraries, if only to use it to subvert their Message. Had he bought a higher caste and been someone's aid, or was he lying about Humble origins and been someone's son?

All the questions bubbled up, threatening to spill over into a rapid-fire interrogation. But Chana was more restrained, and knew better than to do so, instead summing them all up into a single question that begged explanation: "You have?"

The subtlety of batarian facial expressions aside, even Ekarn could see that Chana was already prepared to give questions.

"It was a gift in fact, from a member of the clergy, and a friend of mine." He explained plainly, given how rare paper copies of the Mantras were outside of Khaljah, he wasn't sure if Chana believed if he was telling the truth.

"Here, or in the past?" she asked, the page her hand was resting upon temporarily forgotten. " We - kemati, at least - do not often find Reason to leave Khar'Shan, even now. Forgive my curiousity," she added sheepishly.

Batarians were often suspicious by nature, and did not always take well to such direct prying. She wasn't entirely sure she believed his explanation, but if he was a Follower of the Tar'isi, it would be more Shame on her part should she insult his Honour by suggesting that he was lying.

Benefit of the doubt, perhaps?

"Are you a Follower?" The question came unbidden, a mused response at her own thoughts, rather than anything she intended to ask him before he answered her prior question. And it was a rude one, at that, for she had placed him in a rather difficult position. Someone of higher caste asked if he believed what she believed - there were many who wouldn't dare to disagree, or tell a Priestess that her beliefs were not theirs. He would - by most standards of Order and Respect - be unable to say 'No' to her.

Then again, he had said his Book was a gift, from a friend. 'Yes' might very well be the honest answer anyway.

So she regarded his story with suspicion, understandable.

"On Ivoraq, there was a temple in Hethiz, the capital, that housed a small congregation. One of the clerics, I counted as a friend." He explained. "I actually served with the military, before and during the war. And prior to my enlistment, he gave me the book. I remember him saying "For when you'll need it most". Now, before, I...never really counted myself as a follower of any faith for that matter. But throughout the whole war, I had tried to place meaning into why I was fighting, when it seemed that meaning no longer existed. And it was through Faith, I found it."

All four eyes stared at Chana, "I know this seem rather...difficult to buy at first glance. And if you believe that to be the case, I understand. But it is the truth."

The intensity of the stare was...startling, but she nodded, smiling a little. Any doubts on his Honour were whisked away with that declaration. "Your friend was rather prescient, then."

Faith was rarely Summoned in times when there was no Need, after all. Some of her order might see such things as weak-willed, cowardly brown-nosing, Prideless, but Chana was of the opinion - or perhaps, just the naivety and age - that there were times when the Call of Faith came to those when Faith was Needed most. And, in the wake of the Demon's ruins, it had brought many back to the Faith they had been denied.

So she believed with Ekarn, in this case. That at least one the old temples in the colonies still stood - or had, until the Demons came - was cause for Pride, and she wondered, if for a moment, she should contact the Elders back in Khaljah, to inform them of this development. She had believed the temples - built with each colonization of a new world, to continue Traditions - were destroyed when the Corruption of the Hegemony became too deep to root away, when the Faith was outlawed and Khaljah blocked off from the majority of Khar'Shan with bureaucratic and red tape.

But then, perhaps the Elders knew, and this was just one of many things she should have Learned in her travels.

"Times of great Need are often when Faith shines through, as though it has been there since before the times of memory. I am glad it was as such for you, and that you find Comfort with it."

Chana carefully slid the her blade between two more frail pieces of wet paper, tediously peeling them apart. "Is that why you were sitting alone?"

"Not really, Ivoraq doesn't have much in the way of oceanic views, being a mining colony and all, so I wanted to see what it was like."

That was at least partially true, Ekarn was not a loner by nature, but in coming to terms what had been lost, it was rather difficult to maintain close relationships. His friends from his unit had all gone to tend to their own homes, and he only knew a few men here at the work camp on a first name basis.

"So what brings you here so far from Khaljah?"

Made sense, she supposed...even if she had the sense that he wasn't being completely honest. She picked the pages apart, carefully laying the strip of cloth between them.

what brought her so far? Perhaps he didn't know as much as she thought...or was merely confirming it. Chana looked up at him, blinking, before answering, quite simply, "I am Learning."

Ekarn nodded in affirmation, remembering that few if any of the priests ever left beyond Khaljah's borders.

"And what is it that are you trying to learn?" Perhaps a bit too direct, but his curiosity got the better of him.

That was a complicated question, with a complicated answer. "Everything."

That was the simplest way of putting it, even if it weren't entirely correct. The Elders had given her the choice to find her own Path, to walk where her Purpose guided her, and that was what she wished to Learn. But nothing was ever so simple, and Chana had discovered that in her travels.

"When Te'heri or Gadech come of certain age, they are given the choice - serve the Elders in the solitude of the temples and monasteries, and tend to the Faithful who come to them. Or, leave their village, and become Kemati, who travel in an attempt to understand the Meanings." She paused, quietly pondering the best explanation for one who new to the Faith.

"Khaljah is very isloated. Until very recently, there was very little chance for a Kemati to leave the valleys, so often the Purpose was found and the Path walked from village to village, rather than country to country. Now that we can leave...my Purpose is to Learn all I can about the People who never knew Faith." Another two pages peeled apart, and set to dry.

"That...may not make much sense to you. I am sorry."

"No...I understand." Ekarn said as he watched Chana tend to the pages. "In a way, I'm trying to learn myself. For years I was just a soldier, following orders, doing my duty for the Hegemony. That was the old reality, now, I am still searching for answers in the new world, my Faith serving as a guide."

"The Order is as much a part of that Faith as anything. Doing your duty is a commendable approach to your Purpose, if you take Pride in it," she said softly. It was often hard for those who had not grown up in the Faith to understand such things - it required both a stricter approach to the caste system the People were known for, and a looser interpretation of what the Duties and Purposes of the caste were. For the outsider, she had discovered that such things did not come naturally - much like how those from Ivoraq had a slight trill to their harder letters, or the how the Khaljahi spoke certain syllables that non-natives to both areas found difficult to replicate.

Military service was a requirement of the old Hegemony, so it did not surprise her that perhaps, there were some who never saw it as their Purpose in life. For some, there was another Purpose they would go to Urakh with, when the Soul passed through their Eyes and to the next world.

Chana looked up at him, dark eyes studying him intently for a moment. "And has Faith aided you in your search?"

Ekarn thought of what to say.

"I would like to say, yes. But to be truthful, I feel that I have only begun searching. You could say, I am like a ship without direction. Right now, I stay here to rebuild the homeworld, but everything afterwards is an unknown."

He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Then again, I spent the better part of a year just fighting to survive."

"The unknown is difficult to fathom," she agreed softly, returning her gaze to where the thin blade of the knife had slipped between a pair of pages. Before soldier and rebuilder, she wondered, what was he? Ivoraq was a mining colony, but that did not mean there were just miners. Jewelers, metal smiths, craftsmen, bureaucrats, mechanics, teachers and leaders and all the castes that made the Order run smooth would make Ivoraq home as well.

The pages separated smoothly, and she tore another strip of cloth from her spare dress to lay in between, allowing it to warm and dry as she set the blade aside, looking back up at him. "Sometimes, to See through the fog of the Unknown, one must step back and start at the beginning."