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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]
Anselm was meditating when the young man came in. He was practicing a technique his master had taught him called 'philosophic meditation,' in which he turned his full attention to one of the ancient oracles he had been taught and examined it from various angles. On this day he was meditating on this oracle:
Water above, a pitfall. Lake below, joyous. Being capable of joy in danger, Warding off danger by joyfulness, It is therefore called discipline.
In particular, he was focusing on the phrase 'warding off danger'.
To ward off,he thought to himself.Means 'to parry or turn aside'. It is best, I suppose, to avoid danger entirely. But this is not always possible. Sometimes one finds one's self in a dangerous circumstance that cannot be avoided. In that case, a way must be found to parry it or turn it aside. It is interesting that the oracle does not say one should defeat danger, or that one should overcome danger, or even that one should meet danger head on. Instead, it says that one should turn it aside or parry it. Perhaps like a swordsman who parries his opponent's thrust by deflecting it with his own. If such a swordsman were very good at parrying, his opponent might never hit him and would eventually exhaust himself with the effort.This was an interesting thought to Anselm.It means that the best way to defeat one's opponent is to refuse him the opportunity to harm you. Eventually he will conclude that he cannot win and will walk away.
To ward of also means to avert or prevent. This …He opened his eyes to see the young man standing just inside the entrance to his tent.Ah,he thought.A customer.
“A good day to you my dear sir,”he said in a deep, gravelly voice.“Welcome to Anselm's house of fortune telling. How may I help you today?”
OOC :
The 'oracle' upon which Anselm is meditating is from the I Ching or Book of Changes, an ancient Taoist text. See bibliography.
Last edited by Anselm on June 16th, 2012, 11:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Zerren, standing just inside the tent, could clearly see the source of the smell that had led him to this sparsely furnished tent. There were two chairs and one table, and the dead man was sitting in the chair facing the door. The only heartbeat that Zerren could hear in the silent tent was his own, and if the other man's heart was beating or his lungs drawing air, Zerren should have been able to hear it. This man has obviously been dead for a while, why hasn't anyone removed the body yet? Just as Zerren was getting ready to approach the seated corpse, it spoke.
Zerren, completely shocked, felt his animal fight or flight instinct boiling to the surface. His mind raced through the two possibilities and how he might execute them. Killing it, how do you kill something that's already dead? You don't. Running, I can be out of this tent in under a second and lost in the crowd in three more.
Zerren was nearly out the tent flap before he finally brought himself back under conscious control and forced himself to think about the situation in a more human fashion. One, although it is perfectly reasonable to be afraid of a talking dead man, there are better reactions than fleeing. Two, since he's already dead, he probably isn't all that quick. If i need to run later, i should be able to. And I'd rather like to learn a bit more about this Anselm creature... Whatever he may be...
Zerren stepped cautiously forward and seated himself in the chair across from Anselm, keeping a close eye on the dead man in case he made any moves to attack. "You say you tell fortunes? Could you tell me if i'll ever find a bow in this forsaken city?" Zerren didn't want to immediately say what he knew, that would take all the fun out of this new game far too quickly for his liking.
Anselm peered at the man from under the hood of the head-to-toe cloak that hid most of his body from curious eyes. The hood cast a shadow across his face, with the result that the man could only vaguely make out the cold, gray eyes that were sizing him up. Had he been able to see them clearly, he would most likely have found the Nuit's unwavering gaze disconcerting, as though he was being considered as a possible candidate for some evil, unearthly experiment. And not without reason would he have felt this unease, because the old man was indeed evaluating his body as a potential replacement for the deteriorating one he currently occupied.About the right height and weight,thought Anselm as he conducted his survey.Young. Healthy. Wiry black hair, short. Oh ... he has cat's eyes.Had Anselm been capable of sighing, he would probably have sighed at this point.Great. Another Kelvic. Some day I'm going to add a line to the sign that says, 'No Animals Allowed'.Of course he wouldn't really do that. As much as he disliked Kelvics, they were paying customers and even a Nuit has to make a living. The man was staring at him, most likely wondering if he was going to speak again. When he did, it was with a low, raspy voice that sounded like he was trying to talk and gargle gravel at the same time. This was not an act. He talked that way because it was the best he could get out of this particular body.
“No, I can't.”He said in response to the young man's question. He paused and adjusted his cloak.“If you want to find a weapon, you should visit a weapons' vendor. They are a standard feature of most of the gods-forsaken cities I've seen in my travels. In any case, I can't predict the future. For all I know, you'll be struck by lightening and killed upon leaving the tent. In which case you will never find the bow you seek.”
Calm down old man,he thought.No need to bite his head off. It was a simple enough question.Anselm was feeling irritable today and he had no idea why. He wasn't sure which bothered him the most: that he was feeling irritable or that he didn't know why.
“But perhaps I can help you find something else. While I cannot see into the future, I can see into men's souls.”He waved his hand as though to dismiss the young man from his presence.“Would you care to see into your soul? It will cost a mere 5 silver mizas.”
OOC :
You don't have to actually deduct the 5 sm from your ledger. I view it as a plot device rather than an exchange of money.
As Zerren sat across from the cloaked man, he briefly considered how annoying it was that he couldn’t clearly see the fortuneteller’s eyes beneath his hood. The only part of me that marks me as a Kelvic, and it happens to also be the only sense that doesn’t particularly transfer over to my human shape in any usable form. Since he couldn’t actually read the man’s facial expression, Zerren instead paid careful attention to every word Anselm said, looking for anything that the man might give away about himself.
When Anselm made his comment regarding getting struck by lighting, Zerren felt a small smile play across his face.My but you’re in a bad mood today aren’t you? Zerren noted the fact and considered how he might use it to tempt the man into giving out more information than was intended later in the conversation, while at the same time trying to reason out what could have caused the anger.He’s dead, what would a walking corpse be angry about? Taxes?
When the man said that he could see into Zerren’s soul, Zerren didn’t immediately discard the possibility that it was true.I’m a man who can turn into a cat, I’m one of the last people who should be a skeptic regarding magic. However, if the man really could read Zerren’s soul, it was going to be nearly impossible to get any information out of the man since he would already know what Zerren intended to try before the words were even on his tongue.I’d rather not abandon this little game like that, so I’ll just have to assume for now that he either can’t actually read my soul or that he can’t do so clearly... Until I find proof to the contrary that is…
Realizing that the man might become suspicious if Zerren sat there staring at him too long, he quickly tried to say something to recover. “Well I normally don’t spend money on that sort of thing… It certainly sounds like it could be an interesting experience though…” Zerren feigned indecision for a few more seconds before finally giving in.“Oh, here are five silvers. Dazzle me, good sir.” Zerren hoped to keep the dead man angry using the ‘dazzle me’ comment. Anselm seemed to go for a more serious and solemn appearance, and serious people usually hated to be treated like there was anything humorous about them.Let the game begin, good sir. It’s your move now.
ooc :
I don't particularly mind either way. If you don't really want the silver, I guess i'll keep it.
“Dazzling seems unlikely,”replied the old man without missing a beat.“Nonetheless, let us see what we shall see, shall we?”He smiled inwardly at his little word play.“Before we begin, I should disabuse you of the notion that this is some kind of parlor game. I will speak an ancient oracle that has been carefully constructed to reveal what is in the seeker's soul. It cannot show you your future. Nor can it show you where to find an item you have lost or who you will marry or the winning numbers for the Zeltiva lottery. It can only show you what is already in your own soul. But do not underestimate the value of such a thing, for there are not many who can see what is truly in their own souls."
With his left hand he reached under his cloak and brought out a small cloth bag tied shut with a leather cord. He carefully untied the cord and poured the contents of the bag into his right hand, which he held out so that the man could see what he had. What he had was a set of eighteen tiny carved bones etched with intricate designs.
“Perhaps you have a question to which you would like to direct the oracle,”he said.“It is not strictly necessary, but it does help since an answer without a question often obscures more than it reveals, and can even be a dangerous thing.”
He waited, still holding his hand out between them.
Zerren was thrown by the man’s unflappability. He had gone from slightly angry to dead serious in only moments, and completely ignored the comment regarding flashiness as if it hadn’t been made. Perhaps dead serious is the best explanation for it, I can’t exactly tell if his blood pressure is up or not…
Zerren looked down at the bones in the old man’s hand. They were like tiny mosaics individually, together they were almost intoxicatingly entertaining looking. Nope, we are not going down the ball of yarn road with a pile of bones in the hand of a dead man… At least not right now…Right now, Zerren needed to come up with a question. Something that he could use to get more information out of Anselm. Something that…
Zerren almost stopped breathing as a thought entered his mind. Something that I’ve wondered my entire life. Zerren looked up at Anselm, all thoughts of the game forgotten for the time being. Could you tell me what I am dead man? Could you tell me whether I’m a man or a beast masked as one?
It was a question that Zerren had asked to many people, but no one, not even the man who he had thought of as a father, had been able to give an answer that satisfied his curiosity. Zerren steadied his breathing and looked back at the bones in the man’s hand. “Can you tell me what I really am? Could you roll those bones and tell me whether I’m a man or a panther at heart? In my soul?”
Closing his hand, Anselm pulled it back and placed it on the table beside his other hand.O Great!He thought to himself.Another Kelvic trying to figure out who he is.
“I do not need to cast any bones to answer that question. There is no mystery to it,”he said so quietly that Zerren would have to lean forward a bit to hear him.“You are exactly who you are, nothing less and nothing more. To ask 'Am I this?' or 'Am I that?” as though finding the right label would make any difference at all, is to miss the point. You are what you are. Just as I am what I am. And the irritating glassmaker across the road is what he is.”He leaned toward the young man and spoke in an even quieter voice, almost a whisper.“Stop worrying about what you are and start being what you are. One day you will suddenly realize that you are exactly who you have always been and that it's enough.”
The old man extended his right hand and opened it to reveal the bones again.“Nonetheless, let us see what we shall see, shall we? After all, you did not pay good money just to hear an old man ramble on.”He reached out quickly with his left hand and placed two gloved fingers gently on the back of Zerren's right hand. At the same time, he turn his other hand over so that the bones fell on to the table with a clatter. He studied them for a moment.“Interesting,”he said.Then he intoned the words of the oracle:
Earth above, following. Lake below, joyful. Joyfully following truth, acting in accord with that joy, It is therefore called overseeing. Overseeing is watching over.
Anselm had reached out and touched Zerren so that he could feel his aura as he cast the bones and spoke the words. He was looking for an emotional spike in his aura, which would tell him what part of the oracle resonated with him. Sometimes there was none. But in this case, there were three small but distinct spikes. He could not tell what kind of emotion was involved. Only that something resonated. He thought for a moment on what he had learned and formulated the question that would either lead to a moment of epiphany for the young man or would leave him baffled. Anselm had know way of knowing which it would be.
“Where is your bond mate?”
OOC :
The 'oracle' is from the 19th hexagram of the I Ching or Book of Changes. See bibliography.
Last edited by Anselm on June 16th, 2012, 11:10 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Zerren felt the hope that had sparked only moments before begin to drain away as Anselm gave his speech about not questioning his identity and just being what he was.If I knew what it meant to be me, I wouldn’t have asked you, dead man… This was a waste of five silvers and my time.
But just as Zerren was getting ready to stand up and leave, Anselm reached out and placed his hand on Zerren’s arm, throwing the bones as he did. Zerren was momentarily mesmerized by the now scattered patterns before his attention was drawn back to the reading that Anselm was giving him.Joyfully following the truth? But what is the truth? How do you find it? How do you act according to something you don’t know? And overseeing? Overseeing what? How does any of this relate to my question?
Then Anselm asked his final question and the entire fortune came into a horrifying kind of clarity.It isn’t the answer to the question… It’s what caused the question.Zerren could feel the old wounds of his surrogate father’s death being torn open again along with all the bitterness and anger that had accompanied it. Zerren spoke shakily as he responded,“My bondmate… My bondmate is gone, forever.”
Zerren's mind was whirling with old questions and new fears.Was who I was when my father was with me my true self? Is that what my fortune means? And is that self lost forever now that he’s gone? Was it my fault that I lost him? Could I have stopped it? What if I had been there? What if…
Zerren shook his head, trying to stop the terrible flurry of thoughts assaulting him. He was torn between bursting into tears and screaming.I don’t want this, I can’t do this. I won’t do this, not now.Zerren felt his animal instincts beginning to surface as his conscious mind floundered amidst the turmoil growing within him. When he looked next at Anselm, it was with the cold calculation of a panther observing something that had injured it. And the frail corpse across from him didn’t seem nearly terrifying enough anymore to warrant running away.
This was why Anselm didn't especially care for Kelvics. Their animal nature made them unpredictable. Even without Auristics, Anselm could see the range of emotions playing across the young man's face. Shock, fear, despair, anger. His question had triggered a classic fight or flight response. In the end “fight” won out over “flight”, and he found himself facing a very angry Kelvic who was ready to attack the perceived threat.I hope it's a small cat,he thought. His empty gray eyes gazed into the young man's eyes. He imagined his aura extending to encompass the other's. He imagined feelings of calmness and trust flowing from him to the Kelvic, carrying the suggestion,Everything will be alright. You can trust him. He understands.To Anselm it felt like a gentle breeze blowing from him to the other, leaving a slight feeling of emptiness in its wake.
“I am sorry for your loss,”he said gently.“But it does explain your pain.”He slowly gathered up the bones as he spoke.“Following. Overseeing. Watching over. All Kelvics have a built in need to serve and protect someone. You have lost that person. Without him you too are lost. Is this not so?”
He carefully poured the bones back into the bag, tied it with the leather cord and put it into a pocket sewn to the inside of his cloak.
“The question is, What are you going to do about it?”
Slowly, very slowly, Zerren reigned back in the animal impulse that was driving him to lunge across the table at the deceased fortuneteller. Something at the back of his mind was telling him that perhaps someone who had died and come back would know a thing or two about losing people you cared about.Maybe the chimes I’ve spent here weren’t wasted. Maybe you still can help just by knowing what it’s like to feel your world collapsing.
When Zerren felt himself coming fully back under his conscious control, he looked up at Anselm once more, the feral rage gone from his eyes. In its place was once more a look of guarded hope, but with a sorrow that hadn't been present before.“I have felt lost since he died at sea. And I don’t know what I’m going to do about it… I’ve been wandering between two walks of life and trying to make the best of both since the djed storm hit. Sometimes I’ll go prowling through the forests, hunting as a panther, generally trying to forget about humanity. Sometimes I’ll wander the streets trying to be a good citizen, attempting to push the feral thoughts out of my head. Which is what I was trying to do today when my feral side brought me here.”
Zerren paused for a moment, weighing whether or not to reveal what he had known since entering the tent.He might not take kindly to the fact that I know he’s dead…But still Zerren felt a whispering at the back of his mind telling him that it would be okay and that the dead man wasn’t a threat. Zerren leaned across the table, resting his arms on it and peering even more closely at the man.“I wouldn’t have stopped here if I hadn’t thought something was wrong. I smelled death and when I came looking for the source, I found you… If you don’t mind my asking, Anselm, when did you die?