by Marsh » Wed May 22, 2019 10:17 am
xxx
x
❝ 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎
𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚔, 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐
𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝'𝚜. ❞
𝑒𝑑 𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛
xxx
x
Survivors like myself were dotted around keeping watch over their former temple and observing the ongoing damage to it as flames continued to lick around the cracked columns heading upwards. I looked around for my beloved mentor, Aquila - one of the oldest and most-respected monks in our order who was responsible for raising me - but he was nowhere to be seen and I doubted he would be found. Those watching on were mostly young like me, having either recently passed or about to pass their orders. It didn’t seem likely many of our mentors would have survived the chaos.
Whispers of ‘the rift’ were carried on the wind from whispering mouth to listening ear - some design of a higher being to end the war through mutual destruction, but the monks were a peaceful people. I began to recall a prophecy foretold by the Greater Sages - the founders of our temple - and passed along generations of Temenosi. It had predicted terrible toil which would bring a new start to a people plagued and divided by war. The world would be reborn in flame, the slate wiped clean and bands of ‘envoys’ would be brought together to roam the planet and start afresh. I had thought it silly, simply tales to scare us into performing our chores, but now how I wished I had payed attention and learned the rest of the prophecy. It seemed now as if the Greater Sages spoke more truths than I originally thought. Knowledge of the unfolding and resolution of the rest of these events would have set me at ease amidst the turmoil and unashamed weeping. Who else would remember the prophecy with The Theoi as it was destroyed and its surviving members displaced? Instead, my mind was plagued with mourning for my lost mentor and brothers.
Why did so many of us have to perish in this way? I felt anger spark within me at the sight of my former home set behind the scene of my surviving brothers huddled together and shedding heavy tears. We had no involvement in the fighting and refused to take sides when prompted, yet I dreaded to think how many of us would be gone when the morning comes. I was lucky to have survived I supposed.
We were taught to help any man or woman in need and so we did. Chaos, Order, it didn’t matter. Whichever one came injured was treated, given meals and housed by us for the duration of their recovery - longer if they so desired. Our temple was the only place where the war ceased and Order and Chaos lived together in peace, a little pocket of harmony. Did that make us Temenosi deserving of suffering? No, of course not, but I knew the world worked in its own ways that we can never begin to comprehend.
I was brought up by the Theoi monks. They nurtured and provided for me my whole life up until this moment, even giving me the greatest gift of my name: Lior, meaning 'I have a light'. I do not remember my parents nor do I recall if I ever truly had any, but my first memories originate from that very temple - the one in flames before me. We never really played as monks in training, it wasn’t considered useful - mere time-wasting that distracted us from our duties. From a young age we were taught useful skills, either ones that would enrich our knowledge of the world or enable us to help others. I learned baking and the art of playing the lyre from the monks, among others. I was taught medicine in its simplest forms alongside the humility expected of a monk but as I considered these things I came to the realisation that my training lay unfinished, my oaths incomplete.
I had dwelled for ages on the decision to pledge my life to The Theoi. It had given me so much but I didn’t know then if I wanted to. The monks always reprimanded me for my sharp tongue and humour, calling it arrogance and bringing into question my suitability for a humble life. I supposed now the decision had been taken from my hands. I was not a monk, I was not a monk-in-training - I was nothing. I never gave my oath to The Theoi. I had no home, no brotherhood and no family so I had nothing.
The flames burned throughout the night, only cooling in the early hours of the morning. It was then I decided to explore the wreckage to see what or who could be recovered, many others following suit. I wandered among the unstable rubble praying that it would not collapse while I stood on it until I had found Aquila.
In my desperation to do so, I eventually tripped over something and it was only when I looked did I realise that the object which had halted me was a delicate gold lyre. It was covered in soot and slightly tarnished with one or two snapped strings, but I could still see it was decorated with olive branches and grape vines twisting around the sides - it was a miracle such an object of beauty had survived the fires. I ran my fingers over the patterns, the lyre still warm. A name was etched onto the back but most of it was obscured by soot, nevertheless I recognised the first letter and my heart sped up. I brushed the black away from the rest of the letters revealing “Q”, “U”, “I”, “L” and another “A”. I dropped the lyre hearing another string twang as it snapped and began rifling around the room trying to find my mentor. If his lyre had survived, it wasn’t outside of conceivable thought that he had as well.
I tore piles of rubble apart in search until I reached the marble floor and then moved onto the next one. The remnants of the building groaned as I shifted the weight around and made its foundations even more unstable.
My racing heart sank, however, when I caught sight of what was laying underneath the first layer of stone on a pile near a collapsed entrance. An intricately carved pendant which I recognised as belonging to Aquila glinted in the early morning sun. Falling to the floor, I began to weep and memories of my mentor flooded back. My first cake, a complete fail. The first piece he taught me. The first time I refused to tidy my bedroom which was also the first time Aquila told me off. All of the times when he would sneak food for me from the table reserved only for the elders.
A pair of hands tried to pull me away and when I wouldn’t move several more pairs joined in. I threw myself on top of the pile of debris, refusing to leave Aquila’s body behind and sobbing even more violently than before. My remaining brothers would give up for a while and try again later only to induce an even more fervent bout of weeping and shouting.
Eventually my strength gave in and my tears ceased. My arms fell away from where they guarded the rubble, taking the pendant with them. I fell onto the floor beside the lyre and gathered it into my arms. Only then did I allow myself to be carried out of the rubble.
My brothers lay me against a tree and sat at a distance, watching me in a sombre silence. Gradually, I sat up and stared at the pendant for a while before looping it around my neck. Then, I picked up Aquila’s lyre and started to play a song he taught me. It was Theoi legend that the Greater Sages had learned the art from Apollo himself and taught it to their followers. My fingers ran across the strings that remained, occasionally skipping a note when the string was not there but the song still retained its sadness.
By the time my song finished I had decided there was nothing left for me here. I closed my eyes while I tried to determine how best to bid farewell to my brothers but the words did not find me. I got up, turned away from the wreckage and started to walk away, my footsteps heavy and uneven. It was time to start a new chapter for myself at the end of my current chapter. A new one had begun and I had to make of it what I could. I left the Theoi temple behind, my goodbyes unspoken.
[ 1499 / 1500 ] Last edited by
Marsh on Tue Aug 06, 2019 5:30 am, edited 12 times in total.
