Zion: Light of the New Moon Part 2, Ch 4.5 Bannihar and Myre B
Zion - Light of the New Moon, Part 2 Chapter 4.5
Myre and Bannihar
The Myrenese and the Banniharians will be joining up together as they take the final leg of their journey to Zion. In a day or two they will finally arrive at their end goal... one hopes.
Josh shifted his position on the tree branch; it had not been hard to climb up-- in fact, he hadn't climbed at all; he had flown. His new friend Sebastian perched on the stout limb beside him looking, by all counts, as if there were no way such an enormous creature could keep such perfect balance and yet, there he was. Josh had never seen a living, breathing gryphon before he met Sebastian, but it had been a magical experience and he was pleased that he would get more time with the creature.
"I'm glad everyone decided to travel together." the lion cub announced, glancing off at the nearby firelight of the joint camp.
"Me too." Sebastian acknowledged, "Nobody else around here is very good at wrestling... or, at least they never want to bother trying."
"So you LIKE getting beat?" the cub inquired with a wide smile.
"What's that?" the gryphon glanced to Josh, a beaky grin firmly in place, "You think you WON?"
"Yea..." Josh nodded vigorously, "I pinned you!"
Sebastian rolled his eyes, "That's death sentence for... if I was really fighting I'd be able to use both talons and both claws." to further illustrate the point he drew deep grooves in the branch where he perched, "I'm a predator... you might as well have been a ball of yarn tossed to a house cat."
The cub responded by sticking out his tongue, "You weren't the only one going easy, you know."
The gryphon laughed on response, "Oh yea? Just cuz you weren't using your claws doesn't mean you were going easy... those little things couldn't--" he paused as Josh's body began to ripple and expand, "possibly...." he blinked, feather tufts on his head raising up as the cub's fur bristled and his claws extended and curved, becoming razor-sharp hooked blades, "...cause any...." and he swallowed when Josh scourged the tree branch with his own claws, "...harm."
"Like I said..." Josh's voice rumbled, "...I went easy."
The discussion was cut short as the branch, cracking beneath their joint weight, damaged by multiple cuts, finally gave way. Josh let out a surprised gasp and Sebastian released a squawk of alarm... and both fell down the twenty plus feet to the ground below.
Josh let out a groan, rising up from atop a crushed bush. He returned immediately to his normal size, checking for blood coming out of his nose with with one paw as he brushed bits of twigs out of his fur, "Ow..." he murmured, rubbing a bump on his head.
Sebastian shook his entire body out, leaves and a few bits of detritus creating a momentary aura of dirt. He blinked a few times then glanced up at the snapped branch high ahead. The gryphon looked over at the cub and took a seat, "Okay... so we call it a draw."
* * * * * *
Keeland sat by one of the camp's fire pits, accepting the alone time as a chance to try and gather his thoughts. More had happened during their journey than he had expected and some of the events had given him more than a moment of pause-- even if he wasn't allowed them. The Sergeant let out a breath, counting off silently the names of the dead; it disturbed him greatly that he couldn't remember everyone.
"Sergeant... Reilly... right?" a pleasant voice inquired. The simple words somehow held a calm, soothing tone to them and, for a moment, Keeland couldn't help but admire someone that could put another person at ease simply by remembering their name.
"There's no reason for formality at this point, Lady Delier." the shepherd responded, turning to regard the Banniharian priestess where she stood, just within the flickering edge of the firelight, "My name is Keeland, and it works well enough for everyone."
"If you would rather be informal, then you should probably be calling me Kayte." she countered, her muzzle quirked in an almost playful expression, "May I join you?" she inquired, motioning to a log that he and Cymbeline had brought back to camp to use as a bench.
"By all means." he acknowledged, scooting to the side to provide ample room for her to take a seat. The priestess did so, chosing a spot on the log that was neither too far from him nor too close; it reminded him of something a Myrenese cleric would do. He gave her no more thought beyond that, returning his gaze to the crackling fire, lost within its waving fingers as his mind went back to the names of the fallen.
"You have something on your mind." she ventured the words... not as a guess, he realized, but as the honest truth as seen by a Priestess of Tah'aveen; she was certainly correct.
"I do." he acknowledged, trying to remember the name of a young bulldog recruit. He had just graduated training and it had apparently been his first time outside the city walls. The guard had fallen to his doom when the party failed to cross the pass; Keeland was all the more aggravated that he couldn't remember the recruit's name. "...but nothing that needs contrition or forgiveness." he added, almost as an afterthought.
"Is that the only reason to speak with others?" the wolf priestess asked casually.
"The clergy in Myre often hear confessions..." Keeland offered, "I assumed that's what you were suggesting."
Kayte shook her head gently, "In Bannihar the priests and priestesses do the same, but they also make themselves available to provide council," she smiled in a joking manner as she winked, "and not JUST condemnation."
"That sounds nice, I suppose..." Keeland shrugged, not certain on how to respond to such a dramatic difference between the churches, "The Myrenese clergy is usually too busy reviewing laws and seeking Tah'aveen's divine order to spend time 'being friendly'."
Kayte reached out and rested a paw on the dog's shoulder, "Everyone needs someone to lean on, but sometimes it's hard to find someone who will be there." she offered a gentle smile that somehow gave a strange sense of centering to the shepherd, "Is it so strange a thought that those who speak to Tah'aveen on your behalf be given a chance to know what you're feeling? What hurts you? What you most need?"
The sergeant had to admit that he had never considered a priest's duty, or how it would change if he had a chance to speak to them. One thing did enter his mind though: "Telgran."
"I beg your pardon?" the wolf inquired, her ears raising.
"A name I was searching for." Keeland responded, patting her paw with his own, "Thank you, Priestess."
It was obvious that she didn't understand what transpired, but the shepherd admired the grace with which she nodded and simply accepted that she had made a positive difference. There was something pure about the generosity she showed-- willing to acknowledge that she helped without being given the understanding of just how she did. She accepted at face value the fact that she made a difference. Keeland liked her.
* * * * * *
"Just how stupid are you really, Liam?" the fox asked himself as he trudged a roughly circular path around camp. The fox had many things on his mind, but not the least of which was a growing understanding of just how hopeless his predicament really was. Getting to Zion was easy compared to what he really faced. Liam Mail had done the impossible several times since he'd left Myre and yet, he realized, he was tempting fate again.
"Three kinds of men talk to themselves." a deep, mellow voice spoke. There was a faint growled tone to it, identifying the speaker as a lower born. Turning, Liam regarded a short badger, one of the Banniharian laborers.
"Oh?" the fox inquired, too surprised at the break in his isolation to come up with anything better.
The badger held up a finger, "A man whose mind is too busy to hold his own words inside."
"That would be me." Liam acknowledged immediately.
"Or a man puzzling out something so large that the silence of the outside defeats him." he held up a second finger.
"That is also me." the fox accepted, "And I take it the third would be an insane man." he flicked his tail, "Which I'm starting to wonder if I'm all three."
The badger laughed heartily, "No... I don't count the insane among my list..." he held up a third finger, "Third, is a man who is secretly hoping that someone will hear him and offer council."
"So you're offering council, then?" Liam asked, "Can you help me with a relationship problem?"
The stranger's casual chuckle became a deep belly laugh, full of humor, "Goddess no... I'm hardly the best source of knowledge for that."
"Ah..." Liam nodded thoughtfully, "well... if I'm part of the third group I guess I'll have to keep talking to myself then."
The badger rested a paw on the fox's shoulder, "If you're that desperate I could always give it a try..." and he held out his other paw, "Roarg Stoneclan."
"Liam Mail." he responded, accepting the paw with his own, "And I guess getting some feedback for better or for worse couldn't really hurt anything."
Roarg grinned, "The gods themselves have had relationship problems... you're not alone, Liam."
With no further way to avoid the question, Liam voiced what was on his mind, "How to ask a lover for something more without sounding cliche or making a fool of yourself?"
The badger blinked, and answered as if the question were the easiest thing in the world, "You don't."
"I... uh..." Liam came to a stop at the simple answer, "was kinda expecting a little more than that."
"You can expect anything you want," Roarg acknowledged, "But the fact of the matter is that if you're willing to do what it takes to earn someone's love you can't hold back. Being open to rejection and being vulnerable is what love is all about."
"Ah..." the fox nodded, "and... uh..."
"Something else?" the badger inquired.
"Do people in Bannihar do... rings?" Liam questioned.
"Rigns for ears?" Roarg asked, "Rings for fingers?" he paused, then grinned wide, "Rings for your peni--"
"Marriage rings!" the fox quickly interjected.
"All cities do, in one form or another." the badger nodded, "at least from what I've heard." he glanced toward Liam, "In Bannihar most wedding bands are simple cords of entwined silver to illustrate Tah'aveen's love and blessing over a union... How do the people in Myre do it?"
"The rings can come on any form." Liam noted, taking a seat on a rock as he gazed across the fields toward a faint bright spot on the horizon; he could just barely make out the lights of Zion, "They symbolize an unbroken bond between lovers... two links of a chain forever entwined."
"Sounds just as nice, in its own way." Roarg confirmed and gave Liam a pat on the shoulder.
"I just don't know when I'll be able to get one." Liam sighed with a shrug.
"The symbol's the important thing." the badger responded, glancing back toward camp, "I'm sure you'll think of something. You seem like a smart guy." and, with that, the badger said a quick farewell and headed back toward the fires.
"I'll think of something..." the fox murmured, and continued along the grass, pausing only for a moment to grab a few larger blades, "The symbol's the important thing, huh?" and he began weaving them together into a circle.