Zion - LotNM Character Prologue (Jillian Nesthen)
| Zion - Light of the New Moon
Prologue, Jillian Nesthen
"Quickly, to the reliquary with him!" Jillian ordered, motioning to a long hallway as she followed after a stretcher carried by two large boar. The light clicking of Matron Nesthen's feet was lost beneath the thundering gait of the large workers ahead of her but she was able to keep time with her footfall as she quietly recited a measured prayer to Tah'aveen, asking for the safety and health of the injured and unwell.
Once the stretcher was laid atop the broad, granite slab in the middle of the holy room, the hen was quick to shoo the workers away; though they each were at least a foot taller than her, they were easily cowed into submission-- everyone knew better than to argue with Jillian Nesthen, especially when it came to the care of the injured. Finally alone with her unconscious patient, Jillian moved to stand beside the stone table.
"It is not your time, my child..." she whispered softly, taking a bloody paw in her two hands, "you still have much more to do here before the Moon Mother calls you home." Jillian gently stroked the paw, drawing her talon from the wrist to the fingers, following the lay of the fur, "There are people here who would miss you... family to look after... friends to see." the chicken knelt down beside the unmoving tabby youth, "You wouldn't be so selfish as to force Tah'aveen to do that in your stead, would you?" she smiled pleasantly down to the unmoving cat.
Jillian gently interlaced her fingers with those of the teenager, standing up again so she could rest her free talon atop the cat's forehead. He was injured, and injured badly. She could tell that he had lost a lot of blood between the time when he was injured and the time he was brought to her. She slowly parted his torn tunic so she could look at the bandages that had been administered and she casually 'tsk'ed, "Oh, my poor, dear boy... if I had banadages such as this on me I'd be liable to die of embarrassment... such poor work...". The hen looked to the cat, "We'll fix that, shan't we?"
With the aid of a razor and a skillful talon, Jillian had the cat free from the useless bandages quickly and began to apply a small amount of paste to his wounds, "This will keep you free from infection, my dear... and hopefully help those wounds heal faster... in the name of the goddess, I can't believe what some people consider passable when it comes to healing... those bandages barely even helped soak up your blood, let alone prevent you from bleeding." she chuckled to herself as she applied pressure to his wounds and began to wrap them anew. Once she was done, the hen turned away from her patient and looked to a small statue set off to one side.
"Tah'aveen, Goddess of the Moon, mother to us all, please hear my prayer..." the chicken noted, gazing intently at the miniature goddess. She began her prayers the same way every time without fail... and this one continued for for another two hours. She also made it a point to end her prayers the same way, "I thank you for hearing me, Moon Mother, and thank you for the blessing that you continue to bestow upon your faithful. In your name." Jillian always saved her final thanks until after she knew the goddess had heard her prayer-- in the case of the young tabby, it was when she heard his rousing grunt.
"Did I give you permission to sit up, young man?" the hen questioned. Her voice was authoritative, but mellow.
"Ugh..." the cat lowered his head back to the cushion behind it, "I... didn't know I needed any." It was a prideful answer, but not wholly unexpected; Jillian knew that any teen that left the safety of the city was likely to have some degree of rebellious spirit in them.
"They say that forgiveness is easier to seek than permission, young man..." she turned around to face the cat, returning to him with a shallow bowl of herb-infused water, "Perhaps you should consider asking for forgiveness now for leaving the city."
"Why should I apologize?" he asked, moving to sit up again. Jillian casually rested a talon against his forehead and eased it back down to the cushion; he was unable to resist her guidance-- she knew his strength had not yet returned and it was obvious to her that would have to have someone point that out to him.
"You should apologize for making your family worry, for putting the guards in danger when they had to search for you, for disobeying curfew, and, of course, for disregarding the blessings of Tah'aveen and ignoring that which she has done so that you may grow and prosper." she regarded the young man intently, having addressed him in an informative tone rather than a reproachful one-- she had a feeling that the teen was used to being reprimanded.
"My folks don't care what happens to me... they kicked me out a year ago. Guards are supposed to protect people cuz they get paid for it. My friends decided to go live in the Wild Lands and wanted me to come with so I said okay... so curfew doesn't matter if I don't plan on staying in the city." he answered. He was about to go on, but Jillian had heard more than enough. She held the bowl up to his lips, silencing him before he could continue as he was forced to drink the offered fluids.
"Here... this will help ease some of the pain of your wounds but, sadly, I fear it won't be able to do anything for the pain to your pride, my child." She saw that he was about to object, but she tilted the bowl at a slightly higher angle and forced him to return his attention to the fluid, "You see... your wrong-doing was not against your parents, or against the guards, or against the city... it wasn't even against yourself... no, dear one... you committed a most grave crime against Tah'aveen herself." Jillian shook her head with a sigh, setting the bowl aside.
"I didn't do anything against the Moon Goddess." the boy, in his ignorance, attempted to defend herself. Jillian shook her head and sighed again, not unlike a school teacher when faced with a student who fought against learning at every turn.
"You rejected the great gift she has given you-- given us all... you turned your back on Bannihar, the blessed city that protects you and provides for you. You expected that you could simply walk beyond the Goddess' powerful wards and pit yourself against the Wild Lands without even the smallest shard of holy shielding. Did you never learn of the Wild Lands?" she questioned.
"The Wild Lands are a place where only the strong and cunning can survive." the cat announced, as if quoting some heroic story of legend. Jillian rolled her eyes, having heard more than her fair share of such fictitious poppycock.
"No, child... the southern quarter amidst the hovels and shanties are a place where only the strong and cunning can survive." she stated, "The Wild Lands are a place where none survive."
"What about the Wildlanders?" he pressed. It was an argument she heard before.
"Do you know what a Blackwhip is, sweet boy?"
"Uh... no." the tabby noted.
"Can you tell the difference between Ovella and Marshwhisper blooms, my dear?" she questioned.
"I... don't know what those are." the cat explained.
"How do you keep a wild gryphon from attacking?"
"I don't know." the teen admitted.
"So... in review, you do not know what a Blackwhip is; you have never heard of Ovella or Marshwhisper; you cannot defend yourself against a wild gryphon..." she gingerly hooked one of her blunt talon-claws through a button hole on the remnants of the cat's shirt and hoisted him up to a sitting position; he groaned at the movement, but the hen continued unabated, "Tell me... are you a Wildlander?"
"Uh..." he blinked several times, obviously in pain, "n-no..."
"Correct." Jillian unhooked her talon from the boy's torn rags and let him slump back to the pillow, "And if you are NOT a Wildlander, you should NOT be in the Wild Lands. Does that not make sense?"
The tabby groaned.
"Does that not make sense?" she repeated.
"Yea... yes... m-ma'am." he relented.
"Good... very good." the edge that had developed in her voice softened, "It is only a shame that your friends could not live long enough to learn the same lesson."
The young man slowly made to sit up again-- it was obvious to Jillian that he did not learn quickly. He called after her as she walked out of the reliquary, asking about his friends. Matron Nesthen paused at the threshold and slowly turned around, "They are once again under the care of Tah'aveen, though, unlike you, they will no longer need the protection of Bannihar. You may pray for them tonight, if you wish... I know their parents shall."
Jillian Nesthen left the young cat to his own thoughts; it would be two days before he was well enough for the temple to release him, but she would be unable to administer to all of his needs, especially if he was so quick to abandon the holy city in favor of exploring the Wild Lands. "Not only foolish, but profane." she murmured to herself. Given enough time, Matron Nesthen knew she would be able to turn the boy around and help mold him into one of the most faithful of the city. Sadly, she knew that task would have to be delegated to someone else... someone who had not been given the opportunity of a lifetime-- a reward for her many years of faithful service-- the greatest gift imaginable: a spot within a caravan to the holy city of Zion. |