Zion: Light of the New Moon, Ch 4.1 Doen
Zion - Light of the New Moon Chapter 4.1
Doen She's Miss-Taken
The Doenian Caravan has shown itself to be resilient, stalwart, and competent in the face of adversity. What happens, however when a moral choice is set before them and a conflict between duty and emotion become what may possibly be their greatest challenge yet?
Despite my gravest concern, Lord Rust did not die, thank Tah'Aveen. With the aid of the Moon Goddess, I was able to keep him alive as Jasper began a ritual I did not approve of. The group took a vote, and I lost... so I kept my muzzle shut and let it happen. While I was present for support, I certainly didn't approve... it was all too... Myrhean. I was pretty sure Zeke agreed with me because he was nowhere in sight.
I'd seen a Sickle Moon ritual from time to time and, based on the energy I'd watched Jasper throw during the fight with the Orgs I had an idea of what to expect, but what I ended up seeing made my stomach churn. Jasper had called for two volunteers. While I was caring for the worst of Lord Rust's wounds the party found two among them who were willing to aid Jasper in the echidna's healing: Taggart, and Haldyn.
Once I'd done what I could do and stabilized Lord Rust, Jasper called the two volunteers to him. He pulled out a slightly wavy-bladed ritual dagger and cut Taggart's paw and then Haldyn's. He motioned for the dog to stand beside the echidna's left knee, and for the lion to stand by his right. Jasper himself stood just over Lord Rust's head and then reached out a paw to each of his aides. The moment their paws were in his, each went rigid, as if spiders were crawling all over them and they were afraid to move.
As the rat began to speak, I watched Haldyn close his eyes, gritting his teeth as his body began to shake. Taggart was even worse off; his eyes rolled back in his head and his muzzle hung open, the dull moan of a dying man escaping him. I went immediately to go help, but Narissa stopped me, "It's a Sickle Moon ritual, Brother... it isn't going to be easy on anyone."
"He's in pain." I argued, motioning to Taggart, who was barely able to keep his feet.
"It's a Sickle Moon Ritual." the tigress repeated, as if it would explain everything. I watched as a spattering of gray energy hemorrhaged from both the lion and the dog. I say 'hemorrhaged' and 'spattering' because that is all I could use to describe what it was like when their life force ruptured... it looked like blood and gore ejecting from the body after a heavy mace does its damage... thinking about it still makes the bile rise in the back of my throat.
The flow of the energy through the air, however, was a different matter entirely. Once the life energy had been drawn from each of them, the light spontaneously coalesced into two separate, smoothly flowing streams of energy, cascading into the unconscious echidna. I watched Taggart fall to one knee while Haldyn let out a shaky breath, sagging in exhaustion... and then, suddenly, the ritual was at an end. Unable to stay any longer, I excused myself and left as fast as I could. I managed to avoid vomiting until after I got to my carriage. To this day, the ritual was the single-most beautifully disgusting thing I have witnessed.
An hour later I was inside the carriage, still desperately trying to get my mind off of the display of Sickle faith. The caravan had started moving again, but only at half speed. I was half-way through transcribing a passage from the Book of Dawn when a soft knock sounded from the door, "Come in." I offered, and turned to regard my visitor; Taggart looked better than when I saw him at the close of the ritual, but he still seemed to be exhausted.
"Hello, Taggart." I noted, looking back to my papers. I was not upset with him, nor was I angry with his decision to take part in the ritual, but I realize my greeting came across as somewhat curt; after witnessing him open up a portion of his life's essence to heal an injured comrade I really did not know what to say. The experience made me feel somehow inadequate... like it should have been me helping.
"Is everything alright, Brother Zachary?" he asked,taking a seat on the bench at the door as the carriage continued rolling its way along.
"Just lost in thought, Taggart." I offered a smile, but with all the thoughts in my mind it was as if my heart wasn't in it, "But I should be asking the same thing about you..." I set my book aside, "How are YOU feeling?"
"Tired." he offered a slightly sheepish grin, and I could see that his eyelids were drooping, just a little, "I..." his ears lowered a little, reddening, "I went to visit with Dillan... maybe see about laying down in his wagon, but he threw my stuff at me," he raised a shoulder to showcase the pouch hanging off it, "and told me that if I'm not part of his business then I'm none of his business."
Hearing the admission of his troubles knocked me out of my self-reflection; I had been so obsessed with my own issues that I hadn't even bothered to think about the troubles of poor Taggart. I slid out from behind the wall-mounted desk and moved to sit across from him. I took one of his paws in my own, "Are you certain? Perhaps he misspoke." I focused my eyes and ears on him, "I thought you had a place in his wagon."
The dog sighed, "I did too... but I suppose things change." he raised his vision and a little smile creased his thin, drawn lips, "One of your ears is drooped." the dog noted, reaching up a paw to flick the tip, I felt it raise up at his touch.
"Is that better?" I asked.
He shrugged, "I just haven't met many rabbits with ears like yours." he glanced down at his paw in mind, "They're very... pragmatic."
"Pragmatism is a requirement for a priest of Doen." I answered, the words coming out almost by rote.
He nodded, slowly pulling his paw back, "I try to react to changing situations as quickly as I can, but someone I used to know just called it 'verstality'."
I smiled; I was familiar with that word as well, but my smile faded when I realized that he wasn't smiling. The way he said the word made it seem almost negative, "You say that as if it's a bad thing." I stated, "Versatility is also a wonderful trait."
"Yea..." Taggart nodded, his tail offering a half-hearted beat on the bench, "I guess so."
"Here." I noted, offering the dog a wine skin, "I think you're just tired... you need to eat and drink something and I'm sure you'll be better in no time." I watched as he sniffed at the stopper, "It's Doenian Must."
Taggart smiled his thanks, and I watched, amazed as he drained the whole thing. His ears blushed when he realized that it was empty, and handed it back with an apologetic face, "Um... I guess I was really thirsty... sorry." and his ears blushed deeper, "I don't usually drink that much wine... I can't stand hangovers."
I accepted the empty skin back with a more relaxed smile, "It's alright... Must is practically just juice... almost no alcohol to it. I don't really like wine anyway." I found myself blushing at my own admission.
"A Doenian priest that doesn't like alcohol?" he smiled, bemused, but left it at that.
"Yes, well..." I sighed, but said nothing more, content to do the same. Several long, quiet minutes passed between us before I sought to continue the conversation, "You did well with the sword."
Taggart glanced from me to the blade at his hip and spoke, still looking at it, "I think it's imbued." he assessed, "It had a very important past from what Lordling Rakken tells me."
"It was a very generous gift." I acknowledged, "A very strange one too I suppose... giving away one's family sword."
The dog shrugged at that, "He seems like a very strange Lordling." there was something in the way Taggart said it that made me pause, but he was quick to recover, "When I said my goodbye to him and told him I was coming here to see you he gave me something to give you..."
"He did?" I asked, uncertain as to what the lion would be giving Taggart. For a moment I hoped it wasn't a note; if he didn't feel comfortable telling me himself then any kind of note from a Lordling meant bad things. I recovered quickly, however, when the dog gave me a package.
I looked at Taggart then the package, then Taggart. The dog shrugged, "I don't know what it is." he admitted, and then watched me as I slowly opened it. We both realized what it was at the same time, but Taggart was the first to speak up, "Is the blade the Org leader had?"
"The Hundred Fold Blade." I confirmed, looking at it, "But... why would he give it to me?"
"Maybe as a thank you..." the dog offered, and then added with a grin, "He sure has a habit of giving out weapons as gifts, doesn't he?"
I nodded, "I suppose so... but I'd think it'd be better served in the hands of a warrior."
"You could give it back." Taggart suggested.
"That would be rude." I noted, "And I prefer to stay on the good side of a Lordling."
"What do you think of him?" the casual way in which Taggart asked the question while changing the subject at the same time made me realize that there was more to it than he was letting on.
"Haldyn Rakken's presence here is a blessing in many ways... he aided us in our fight against the Orgs and there is no doubt that he is an incredible asset..." I began.
"You're speaking like a priest right now." the dog smiled, calling me on it.
"He worries me." I admitted, letting out a sigh. I'm not sure why, but Taggart's tail wagged at my answer.
"Why?" he asked.
"I'm not entirely comfortable about nobility." I explained, albeit, quite succinctly.
"You do just fine around me." Taggart offered with a smile, "And I'm the King of Bad Decisions."
We shared a laugh at that, but I didn't let the silence linger before I asked what question his comment brought to mind, "Do you really think you make poor choices?"
"I don't know," Taggart sighed, folding his fingers deliberately together, both palms up in his lap, "Sometimes it feels like I only have two choices and both of them are bad."
"So what do you do?" I asked.
"I follow my heart and get kicked out of Dillan's wagon." he responded, laughing at his own answer. I followed suit.
"Either way, I'm glad you helped support us in our decision. You didn't have to." I offered, "Thank you."
Taggart nodded, "You're welcome." he sat back on the bench, "I think the difference between being a good person and not being a bad person is that good people do things they don't have to do... whether it's something as epic as giving up a portion of your life force to save an ailing ally or as mundane and throughly gratifying as telling your ferret boss to suck eggs... some things just need to be done."
"Even if you end up hurting yourself." I nodded, understanding completely what he meant. I looked around the inside of the carriage, realizing what Taggart meant by following his heart. The caravan to Zion was something I didn't have to do, but something that needed to be done. "and some things will probably end up hurting a lot." the words came out as a whisper, but he was obviously capable of hearing.
"Well... I'm already past the ritual thing... I'll be fine. Figuring out traveling and sleeping arrangements... that'll be a little more difficult."
I chuckled at his upbeat response and, following suit, pushed my own negative considerations out of my head, "You can share my carriage until we can figure out something else."
"Really?" he asked, surprise and, what almost looked like joy crossed his muzzle.
"Of course." I confirmed, "Considering everything you've done for everyone, not to mention for me, I'd be happy to have such an upstanding traveling companion."
We continued talking well into the early hours of the morning. Even after the caravan had stopped for the night we each made a brief appearance for dinner and prayer, then returned to my carriage to continue our talks. We went through another two wine skins of Must; I was just starting to feel a little tipsy when we both decided it was time to call it a night. I remember curling up with Taggart, enjoying the contentment of spending time with someone without having to serve in any capacity other than being me.
The morning wake-up call was not a pleasant one. "Damn it! Where's that dog?" it was Lord Rust's voice... I could tell even from half-way across the caravan.
Slowly untangling myself from Taggart it took a few moments for me to register that we hadn't done anything other than sleep; I was bemused by the thought... it seemed novel. Leaning over the bleary dog, I whispered into one of his big ears, "I think Lord Rust wants to say 'thank you'." I smirked.
"Where's Taggart?!?" Rust shouted, somewhere closer to the wagon. The humor of the situation started to fade, "I didn't ask for some Sickle Moon Ritual!" I could tell by that point that it was going to be a long day.
* * * * * *
Doen gets an indepth character-development session. It looks like things are off to a quiet start for Chapter 4, which is good for the highly injured caravan... but it won't stay that way forever!
Any contributing reader that wishes to spend a willpower may be the central focus of the next post. In the event of multiple characters expending willpower, the one who uses it first will earn the right, unless whomever else that wants the focus is willing to spend more.
Contributing readers may also spend a willpower point at this time to further develop character relationships.
You have until Thursday August 4th to make your vote and willpower utilization (if applicable). Midnght (PST) as usual