[Flashback] What We Once Were

[Hirem]

Hirem put up a hand before Nahali took any bit of food, and drew the attention to everyone present. He suddenly felt another tinge of nervousness at the prospect of speaking to these unruly boys as well, but he had something important to say. Hirem dropped to one knee, a more comforting position to speak heart-to-heart than towering up above them. He stared straight into their bright eyes, and began to speak.

"Listen, boys. I know shepherding the goats may not be the most glamorous job or the most fun. But if it must be done, it must be done. There can be no relenting in this." He smiled slightly, watching the boy's expressions carefully. They were listening attentively, without fidgeting or shuffling about. That was a good sign. "I know you are boys and all, but eventually you will be men. Why not develop this good habit now, and impress others as men? You will get tasks you enjoy when you can prove you can fulfill them."

He stood up then, dusting off his clothes. When the boys realized the speech was over, Hirem reached over, and took a flat slice of barley bread, taking a large, generous bite from it. He nodded in satisfaction, and sat down next to the bundle, shooing the boys away. "Go, and do your job!"

When they were off to watch the goats, Hirem sighed, and rested his head atop his hand, chewing thoughtfully on the bread. "I hate giving lectures." He finally said.

[Nahali]

Nahali regarded him solemnly as she picked up an olive and munched on it, savoring the salty squirt of juice between her teeth. The grumbling in her stomach fell quiet. Those boys had come just in time.

"No, giving lectures doesn't suit you at all," she agreed bluntly. An impish smile stole across her face as she added, "I liked it much better when you were making…what do you call them? Analogies, that's it. Like when you compared people to goats and Yahal to a shepherd. But I'm glad you sat down and talked to Yacob and Lahai anyway. Maybe having a man tell them to work harder will have more effect than a girl telling them the same thing over and over again."

After she finished the olive, Nahali followed Hirem's lead and picked up a slice of barley bread, drizzling a measure of olive oil across the top before taking a hearty bite. She closed her eyes beatifically as the pungent, mellow notes of the olive oil danced across her tongue. Wasn't there a story about how Biyram had planted an olive pit and some grape seeds in fertile soil at Yahebah and Yahal caused them to sprout instantly into prosperous groves? It was no wonder both were major parts of every Benshiran meal.

She spared a glance over her shoulder at the boys, who were fussing most satisfactorily over the goats. It looked like Hirem's words had had a good effect, at least. Swallowing the last bite of bread and oil, she remarked, "It's not that I mind their playing. I'm not serious at all when I play, too. And they mean well, I know it. But I prefer to work. It's important to put your mind on the work in front of you. And someone gets the benefit of it."

Nahali smiled at Hirem as they continued to devour the meal the boys had brought. "So, I'm glad you're here to help Yacob and Lahai see that. I wonder if that's why Yahal guided you to us the other day? So that you could help the people of our Tent with your words?"

[Hirem]

Hirem had by now finished his bread when she asked her first question, being a ravenous eater and all that, and was content to lick the last bits of the sticky oil from his fingers, smiling wiht content. It was always better to do things on a full stomach, or at least, doing something without dying for a bite of food. "Maybe having someone different telling them something important has that effect, not the gender of the person telling them it."

Hirem shifted his gaze over to the boys with Nahali, and he shrugged at her remark. "Some people need play, some people need work." He didn't comment on which one he was, because in all truth, he had no idea yet. That was partly why he had set out on this journey, to discover who he was.

He easily broke off a bit of the goat cheese, leaving a healthy fraction left for the rest of their consumption. He brought it to his lips and quickly pulled off a decent chunk of it with his teeth, chewing it thoughtfully for a second. With a sigh of satisfaction, he set his piece down on his lap as he considered how to answer her next question.

"It could be that, Nahali. I could also become a Rapa by the end of this journey, but I'm not sure yet. I haven't experienced another completely overwhelming command yet, so my path is still shrouded in the fog of time." Hirem smiled a bit, and gave her a little wink. "Though I think I would have stayed in Yahebah if I was to become a Rapa."

[Nahali]

Nahali chuckled a little at Hirem's response. "I suppose that's true. To be honest, I don't really know that much about how Rapas are trained or where they come from. I really did think they all became Rapas because they heard the voice of Yahal echoing in their heads, telling them to go out there and minister unto the people."

Somewhat awkwardly, she squatted down on the sand as she reached for another share of bread. For once, she didn't accidentally jab herself with her own elbows, like a yearling colt unused to its own long, splaying limbs, as she continued to eat. Maybe talking and being talked to on an adult level was making her feel more grown-up and mature in more ways than one.

Or was it because Hirem was a stranger who talked to her this way? As he himself had said, the fact that he was someone different probably mattered much more than his gender, when it came to conversing with the people of her Tent. The desert was so large and their people so few that meeting a new person was cause for much celebration and hospitality. Perhaps adults had been talking to Nahali this way all along, but she just hadn't listened, any more than the boys had listened when she'd told them the same things Hirem said in his lecture.

Realizing Hirem was still waiting for her to finish her thought, Nahali shook herself sharply. She had time for contemplating such matters later. Returning to the discussion of Rapas, she asked him, "Did you see how Rapas were trained while you were in Yahebah? I suppose if you had, and you didn't feel anything drawing you to it, then I guess it probably isn't what Yahal means for you."

Before he could answer, Nahali blurted out, "Oh, and one more thing. I hope I'm not asking too many questions or bothering you, but you said something odd that I didn't understand. You said your path was still 'shrouded in the fog of time', I think? I'm probably just being forgetful and asking about something that everyone knows, but…what's a fog?" She flushed a little at the naïve sound of her own question. "Is it like a sandstorm or something?"

[Hirem]

OOC: I am quickly learning how much I screwed up with this character including the name and his studies, but hopefully I can redeem myself.

Hirem laughed a bit before he could stop himself at Nahali's question. He immediately regreted the action as her face turned a little red, and he quickly shifted his face to one of understanding and empathy rather than mirth. "It's not a silly question for one of your age. You probably haven't heard about it considering it's a rare topic here."

He stared off into the distance as he if he was trying to visualize it on the horizon. "One of my teachers in Yahebah, a wise man named Halik, would sometimes begin his studies with a tired look on his face, and when I asked him what was the matter, he would say, 'My thoughts are being muddled with the fog of time.'" Hirem gazed off into the noon soon, and tried to imagine a way to describe this fog. "A fog is like a sandstorm, but instead of whipping about sand everywhere, it is supposed to sit on the ground, obscuring the path ahead of you."

He shrugged after he explained it and glanced back at her, brow furrowed in concentration. "Your other question was about the Rapa's training, right?" He sighed, and tried to bring a smile up for her. "I was taught at the Seat of the Sons, the academy in Yahebah. Regardless of your interests, they teach you according to your heritage, the son you were born from."

He chuckled slightly, the smile coming much easier now to him. "I was a bit of an awkward case, as my name implied the studies of Hirem, smithing and all that, while I was also inclined towards the Rapa course, the religious studies. Eventually, I settled on the Rapa studies."

Hirem had a mischevious glint in his eyes as he settled on Nahali again with his gaze. "I was very eager to learn more, and so I managed to get some lessons from the tutors of Jeroab and Havid, history and martial studies respectively. I was close to completing my Rapa studies when the vision came to me."

"Back to your original point, I'm not sure if I was being drawn to becoming a Rapa or not. They start training you the moment you come in, and you become shuffled into the role, I suppose. But, now that I have recieved a vision from Yahal, I no longer feel any inclination towards being a Rapa, or a follower of any of the other sons, Aysaw, Benha, all of them!" He nodded as his smile disappeared, his eyes heavy with concentration. "I will serve my god as he wishes for me to do so, nothing else."

[Nahali]

By the time Hirem had finished describing his studies in Yahebah, the flush of chagrin had long faded from Nahali's sun-browned cheeks, to be replaced with a wide-eyed expression of wonder. She'd had no idea how extensive and complex the teachings at the Seat of the Sons could be. From how Hirem spoke of them, Nahali thought that the instructors there must surely be able to teach anything known to man. A student could spend a lifetime there gaining the sum of all human knowledge…assuming that he could sit still long enough to learn it.

And therein lay the problem, didn't it? Nahali knew she could never be that lifelong student, no matter how interested she was in mastering history, fighting, religious studies and even smithing. The nomadic life of the goat-herder and the rhythms of the desert were too much a part of her, even at age fourteen. Still, it was a fascinating thing to think about and imagine.

Behind her, she heard some familiar coughing and throat-clearing noises from Yacob and Lahai. The sun had passed its noonday zenith, and the two boys were hungry for their own midday meal. With a sigh, Nahali stood up, stretched vigorously, and gestured for Hirem to follow her.

"Well, right now, it looks like we're both still obliged to serve the goats," she said lightly, breaking the solemnity of the moment. "We should start looking for a spring or watering-hole for them. They may not be thirsty yet, but I still think it's good for them to get a little water every day, especially in the summer."

As they relieved the boys of their shepheding duties, Nahali added, "Thank you for being so patient and answering all my questions. I had no idea there was so much to learn in the world. I always thought that the only things that people ever needed to learn were things that need to be done with your own hands, like herding goats or finding water."

With a smile, she added, "I think I would've liked being a student of a tutor of Jeroab. It's so fitting that our heritage should be history. But, well, you must understand how strong the power of history is. After all, you studied it yourself in Yahebah."

Suddenly, Nahali's smile turned shy as she remembered how Hirem had left all his studies behind. She blurted out, "Of course, your service to Yahal is the most important thing. But you seem to know so many things and experienced so much. I hope the will of Yahal is not too overpoweringly strong in your head, you know. I…I think it would be a great shame if you became so absorbed by Yahal's will that…that you lose the person that you are…the very kind and wise person that you are."

[Hirem]

Hirem couldn't but turn a little red at the compliment. He wasn't used to being called a wise and kind individual, and somehow, the fact that it was the young woman that he had met yesterday made him feel even stranger. She could remember her entire experience with him perfectly, and the idea that his mantras and philosphies would affect the rest of this girl's life gave Hirem a sick feeling in the base of his stomach.

I am a shepherd from Eyktol... I'm no role model. He smiled, a bit uncomfortably, and tried to find a humbling response to Nahali's statement. For a wise and kind individual, he found it difficult to stop a person stroking his masculine ego, a sign of his humanity.

He pursed his lips as he stared into the sun, watching the great orb of fire cross the sky ever so slowly in the bright blue expanse, bringing life and death to the soft sands below. No matter what happened to the people in this desert, the sun would still cross the sky every morning and every night, unchanging. Resolute.

Finally, while observing the frisky goats maneuver about their feet, giving tiny bleats and nipping at each other in a playful manner, he cleared his throat. "Me? I am just a man that memorized dozens of words from old musty books that were written ages ago. I'm just a lowly shepherd that ventured out from his home because I thought a god told me so."

He couldn't help but take a knee near Nahali, placing a hand on her shoulder and staring into her bright, youthful eyes. "You may be a woman that didn't study from a school or learn from scholars. You may be a woman that spends her entire life herding goats or finding water."

He smiled, and drew a finger up to make his point. "That is knowledge that the wisest and stuffiest of scholars will never know. Place them in a desert, and they will study the life and enviroment that they read about in their books. They might even survive." He patted her shoulder as he pushed himself up to a standing position, watching the young woman that was captivated by his speech.

"You, Nahali, will thrive. You will live and live well in that desert because you are wise in that life, that knowledge. No man can learn all there is to know in the world. You are wise in areas others are not, and conversely, they are wise in areas you are not."

As soon as he finished his little rant, he suddenly broke into a nervous chuckle, wiping his hand across his sweating brow. "I guess I just feel like imparting wisdom upon people today. Maybe I am a Rapa, and I never knew it."

He seemed to forget about her comment about him losing his person to Yahal's will as he bended over and scratched a goat aimlessly on the ears, a blank smile on his face.

[Nahali]

Nahali couldn't help but blush a little in her turn as she listened to Hirem's words. Privately, she thought Hirem was selling himself far too short when he described himself as "just" a man who had read many old books and "just" a shepherd who believed he had heard the voice of Yahal. Perhaps he had indeed been fortunate in his life to have the opportunities he did in Yahebah, but Nahali thought he had made the best of his good fortune, from what she could see. He had the knowledge of both the desert nomad and the wise, stuffy scholar, and he also had his deep belief in Yahal to sustain him. Yet, despite all his knowledge and piety, he had taken the time not only to help her herd the goats but also to talk with her with respect and courtesy. If that didn't qualify Hirem as deserving of the words "wise and kind," Nahali didn't know what did.

For herself, Nahali could only hope that she would someday fulfill all the predictions he'd made for her. She wanted very much to thrive here in the desert and live well, despite…or perhaps because of…all the hardships it presented. As Hirem himself had told her only last night, the most difficult tasks were the most worthwhile of all. And what could be more difficult or more worthwhile than to prosper and grow strong in the harsh depths of Eyktol?

"I think you would make a good Rapa, if you ever wished to," Nahali told him. "You have a way of saying things that ring of truth without being hurtful, the way truthful things often do. I mean, are. The way truthful things often are. You know what I mean."

She brightened and added, "Maybe if following this vision from Yahal doesn't work out for you, you should consider being a Rapa! Not that, erm, I mean that it's not going to go well. But maybe if it turns out that Yahal only needed you for something quick and simple, then you could be a Rapa afterward."

This solution seemed quite satisfying to Nahali. When she glanced toward Hirem to see if he approved, though, the older man seemed sunk deep in thought, the blank smile fading from his face as he walked onward. Perhaps he was thinking again about the vision from Yahal that had guided his solitary venture into the desert. That subject always seemed to arouse a complicated variety emotions in Hirem, and not all of them seemed to be positive ones. Perhaps he merely felt uncomfortable about speaking so much, after spending so much time on his own. For all she knew, it could just be the afternoon heat. Many of the older shepherds disliked wasting their body's moisture with small talk, meaning any communication that didn't mean the difference between life and death.

In the silence, she could hear the boys noisily packing up the remains of their meal and running to join them. They certainly didn't seem affected by the heat. Hirem's speech to them might have sobered them, but it hadn't taken away their boyish high spirits. Nahali couldn't help smiling when she heard the song they were singing together as they worked. It was an old desert chanty, its rhythm like the drag of sand against one's feet.

"Old Man Desert,
Tell me your age-old tales
Old Man Desert,
Guide me along your trails
Old Man Desert,
Protect me through all my travails."

Unable to help herself, Nahali joined them in the second verse. She had always loved to sing, especially while herding goats through the silent desert. Her voice was not particularly fine, being still rather raspy and breathy, but it held a promise of mellow richness that made her singing pleasant enough to hear. As she sang, Nahali glanced sidelong at Hirem again, wondering if he knew the song of Old Man Desert and if it would break his solemn mood.

"Old Man Desert,
Where do you hide your springs?
Old Man Desert,
Will you aid our long searchings?
Old Man Desert,
Can you tell us what tomorrow brings?

Old Man Desert,
Your kingdom is a land both hot and dry
Old Man Desert,
We live our lives under your hot blue sky
Old Man Desert,
Your sands will bury us when we die."

[Hirem]

Hirem glanced at the younger shepherds that had burst into song, and he couldn't resist breaking into a silly grin. Singing had always been something that drew the anger and solemn nature out from people, replacing it with emotion and a light-hearted nature. He had never been one for song, but when the time came, he could carry a tune with some assistance.

Old Man Desert was one of Hirem's favourites, one that had entertained him immensely during his childhood and one that he still caught himself whistling in his adult life. He waited for them to reach the third verse, and then he threw himself into the last one with a loud, boisterous voice, one that was the voice of a happy man that had no talent for singing.

"Old Man Desert,
Forever we may roam!
Old Man Desert,
We live upon your loam!
Old Man Desert,
You are our home!"

As soon as the song was finished, Hirem started to laugh, patting the boy's on the shoulder as they walked. His spirits lifted, he took a more easy look on his face, nearly hopping in between the noisy goats as the herd continued to walk in the shimmering sands. The only detriment to his attitude was the sun, becoming hotter and hotter as time passed. Sweat was clinging to their clothes now, and Hirem continually wiped his brow free of the salty liquid.

[Nahali]

Nahali broke into a wide grin when she heard Hirem join in with their song. As though inspired by their singing, the goats even lent their own melodies by bleating along. Their voices all blended together in an agreeable, if not entirely tuneful, chorus as the four of them concluded the last few verses to "Old Man Desert" in unison.

Look at us, she thought contentedly, glancing left and right at the goats and shepherds on either side of her. Walking through the desert that probably hadn't changed since the Valterrian, herding goats like our ancestors did, and singing a song that was probably sung by the very first shepherd. We look so timeless, don't we? She liked the thought and cherished the idea that nothing in her life would ever change. Every day, Nahali would walk the sands with her goats, sing her songs, and be happy and safe forever.

"I should have known you would know that song too!" she exclaimed, looking up at Hirem's laughing face when they finished singing. "They always look at us funny in Yahebah when we sing that song. It must be something that only shepherds know."

The two boys nodded vigorously in agreement. "I remember one of the city boys asking if we were singing a nursery rhyme," the younger boy, Lahai, declared. "This was only last year, too! You wouldn't catch me dead singing a song about learning how to count when I'm already thirteen!"

"That's because you'd be dead," his older brother, Yacob, told him, nudging him in the shoulder. "Last time I checked, you can't sing when you're dead."

Nahali rolled her eyes good-naturedly as the brothers joshed each other. It never did take much to set those boys off. Ignoring them, she looked back at Hirem. The older man was mopping his brow in the heat, and Nahali too had to shield her face from the sun with her shawl as its golden rays slanted across the sand. Soon enough, they would all need a drink from the waterskins the boys had brought, but not quite yet. Nahali didn't want to seem like a water-greedy weakling in front of everyone.

"Do you know any other songs to help pass the time?" she asked Hirem. "Or would you like to learn one of our songs? We don't often get a chance like this to share songs and stories from other Tents when we're not in Yahebah. I think we could learn a lot from each other."