Post by Bethany on Apr 30, 2007 22:33:00 GMT -5
This one is short, but eventful. 
- chapter 6-
Statues
Choice affects everything, and everything affects choice.
Even unimportant choices can end up turning your world upside-down, or pulling you up to the sunshine.
What proves your worth isn’t what you end up choosing; it’s why.
It’s in that moment; where you weigh your options and decide just what really matters; that you can really look into yourself.
*****
Jerez looked into Bozi’s eyes. Was he so eager to kill that he would murder his own lover? No, Bozi never loved Jerez; and he didn’t love him now.
“What?” Bozi asked, sarcastically, “Did you finally figure out why I’m here?” Jerez’s hand snuck to his belt, searching for his knife. But it wasn’t there; he had dropped it after he killed the stranger. “Looking for this?” Bozi held up the knife, and tossed it down near the feet of the statues, pulling out his own knife. What could Jerez do now? Bozi had tossed away his last hope along with the knife. Bozi knelt down over Jerez.
“Why are you doing this?” Jerez asked bleakly.
“What do you mean, ‘why?’ It’s my job, silly!” said Bozi sweetly. It was rare to see both sides of Bozi at the same time, but Jerez guessed that this was a fitting occasion.
“So what? I’m here now, you could let me go, and say that the job was done. You don’t have to do this!” Jerez strained his neck to look Bozi in the eyes.
“You mean like you did with Synna?” Bozi stated darkly. This silenced Jerez. He might as well let it happen. What did he have to live for now? He took a deep breath and let his head rest in the mud beneath him, feeling it creep through the fabric of his clothes. Bozi recognized this as a sign of surrender, and lowered his knife, as one fleeting image entered Jerez’s mind; Holly.
Jerez’s hand shot up and grabbed Bozi’s wrist. The dead ember of hope inside of him had, by chance, caught onto something, and sparked the fire back to life. Bozi struggled, the knife getting lower and lower, but Jerez rolled them over, giving him the advantage of leverage. Jerez tried to pry the knife from Bozi’s hand, but Bozi rolled them over again.
As his elbow hit the ground, Jerez felt something; his knife. Still struggling with Bozi, he freed one of his hands, grabbed the knife, and drove it into Bozi’s chest. For a moment, the man continued to struggle, as if he didn’t know what had happened, but then his body succumbed, and he slid off of Jerez.
Jerez sat up, and knelt beside the body, which was lying between the feet of the statues, and lifted the wounded chest onto his legs. The knife stuck out gruesomely, and blood gushed out. Jerez gripped the handle, about to pull it out, but couldn’t. The rain poured, and one by one, the torches were put out.
Exhausted, mentally torn, and soaked with mud, water, and blood, Jerez buried his face in his lover’s stomach, and wept as the sun rose behind the statues’ backs.
*****
Tinnuwen arose early that morning, as there was a lot to do before the celebration could begin. This evening was the all night festival for the winter solstice. The Priestess went about her daily observances, and was just putting her golden hair up into a bun, when there came a frantic knocking at her door. One of her assistants had awoken, and hastily answered.
“Lady Tinnuwen!” Shouted a small boy, who the Priestess recognized as one of her lovers’ youngest assistants. He was out of breath, and had probably run all the way from across town. The Lady left her hair down, and walked to the door.
“What’s wrong?” She asked, scanning the boy’s face.
“Lord Koda… there’s a man… at the shrine…” Tinnuwen didn’t wait for the boy to finish, she ran out the door, and made her way to the shrine near the entrance of the town.
“…You don’t understand!” Jerez said, trying to defend himself from the tall, angry man hovering over him.
“I understand,” the man yelled, enraged, “that you killed a man.” Jerez shook his head, things couldn’t get easier for him, could they? “…And not only did you kill a man, you killed a man at the feet of our sacred statues.” Jerez looked up at the statues again. The faces that had seemed majestic in the torchlight now looked mockingly benevolent to him.
“Koda! What is going on here?” Tinnuwen said, her blue-grey eyes looking from her lover to Jerez, and back again.
“I came out here to tend to the torches, and he was here… look what he’s done!” Koda said, clenching his teeth. Tinnuwen observed the gruesome scene, and she also noticed that there were tear stains on the man’s dirtied face.
“What’s his story?” she inquired, putting a hand on the Priest’s shoulder in attempt to calm him down.
“You heard her; speak!” Koda commanded sternly, though he was calmer now that the Priestess was here.
“I didn’t want to kill him! Honestly! I… He…” Jerez stuttered. He gave up and buried his face in his hands. Tinnuwen sighed, feeling sorry for him.
“Koda,” She said softly. “I’ll take him to go get some rest. Maybe after he’s calmed down, he can tell us what happened.” She held her hand out to Jerez, and helped him up.
“Fine. I’ll take care of… him.” Koda said, referring to the corpse on the ground. He easily picked up the body and slung it over a broad shoulder. His brown eyes spotted one of his assistants. “Summoner!” He called, “Fetch a bucket of salt water and clean this up.” He pointed to the blood on the ground and on the bases of the statues. Wide-eyed, the boy nodded, and ran to the house of the Priest.
*****
-
end chapter six
- chapter 6-
Statues
Choice affects everything, and everything affects choice.
Even unimportant choices can end up turning your world upside-down, or pulling you up to the sunshine.
What proves your worth isn’t what you end up choosing; it’s why.
It’s in that moment; where you weigh your options and decide just what really matters; that you can really look into yourself.
*****
Jerez looked into Bozi’s eyes. Was he so eager to kill that he would murder his own lover? No, Bozi never loved Jerez; and he didn’t love him now.
“What?” Bozi asked, sarcastically, “Did you finally figure out why I’m here?” Jerez’s hand snuck to his belt, searching for his knife. But it wasn’t there; he had dropped it after he killed the stranger. “Looking for this?” Bozi held up the knife, and tossed it down near the feet of the statues, pulling out his own knife. What could Jerez do now? Bozi had tossed away his last hope along with the knife. Bozi knelt down over Jerez.
“Why are you doing this?” Jerez asked bleakly.
“What do you mean, ‘why?’ It’s my job, silly!” said Bozi sweetly. It was rare to see both sides of Bozi at the same time, but Jerez guessed that this was a fitting occasion.
“So what? I’m here now, you could let me go, and say that the job was done. You don’t have to do this!” Jerez strained his neck to look Bozi in the eyes.
“You mean like you did with Synna?” Bozi stated darkly. This silenced Jerez. He might as well let it happen. What did he have to live for now? He took a deep breath and let his head rest in the mud beneath him, feeling it creep through the fabric of his clothes. Bozi recognized this as a sign of surrender, and lowered his knife, as one fleeting image entered Jerez’s mind; Holly.
Jerez’s hand shot up and grabbed Bozi’s wrist. The dead ember of hope inside of him had, by chance, caught onto something, and sparked the fire back to life. Bozi struggled, the knife getting lower and lower, but Jerez rolled them over, giving him the advantage of leverage. Jerez tried to pry the knife from Bozi’s hand, but Bozi rolled them over again.
As his elbow hit the ground, Jerez felt something; his knife. Still struggling with Bozi, he freed one of his hands, grabbed the knife, and drove it into Bozi’s chest. For a moment, the man continued to struggle, as if he didn’t know what had happened, but then his body succumbed, and he slid off of Jerez.
Jerez sat up, and knelt beside the body, which was lying between the feet of the statues, and lifted the wounded chest onto his legs. The knife stuck out gruesomely, and blood gushed out. Jerez gripped the handle, about to pull it out, but couldn’t. The rain poured, and one by one, the torches were put out.
Exhausted, mentally torn, and soaked with mud, water, and blood, Jerez buried his face in his lover’s stomach, and wept as the sun rose behind the statues’ backs.
*****
Tinnuwen arose early that morning, as there was a lot to do before the celebration could begin. This evening was the all night festival for the winter solstice. The Priestess went about her daily observances, and was just putting her golden hair up into a bun, when there came a frantic knocking at her door. One of her assistants had awoken, and hastily answered.
“Lady Tinnuwen!” Shouted a small boy, who the Priestess recognized as one of her lovers’ youngest assistants. He was out of breath, and had probably run all the way from across town. The Lady left her hair down, and walked to the door.
“What’s wrong?” She asked, scanning the boy’s face.
“Lord Koda… there’s a man… at the shrine…” Tinnuwen didn’t wait for the boy to finish, she ran out the door, and made her way to the shrine near the entrance of the town.
“…You don’t understand!” Jerez said, trying to defend himself from the tall, angry man hovering over him.
“I understand,” the man yelled, enraged, “that you killed a man.” Jerez shook his head, things couldn’t get easier for him, could they? “…And not only did you kill a man, you killed a man at the feet of our sacred statues.” Jerez looked up at the statues again. The faces that had seemed majestic in the torchlight now looked mockingly benevolent to him.
“Koda! What is going on here?” Tinnuwen said, her blue-grey eyes looking from her lover to Jerez, and back again.
“I came out here to tend to the torches, and he was here… look what he’s done!” Koda said, clenching his teeth. Tinnuwen observed the gruesome scene, and she also noticed that there were tear stains on the man’s dirtied face.
“What’s his story?” she inquired, putting a hand on the Priest’s shoulder in attempt to calm him down.
“You heard her; speak!” Koda commanded sternly, though he was calmer now that the Priestess was here.
“I didn’t want to kill him! Honestly! I… He…” Jerez stuttered. He gave up and buried his face in his hands. Tinnuwen sighed, feeling sorry for him.
“Koda,” She said softly. “I’ll take him to go get some rest. Maybe after he’s calmed down, he can tell us what happened.” She held her hand out to Jerez, and helped him up.
“Fine. I’ll take care of… him.” Koda said, referring to the corpse on the ground. He easily picked up the body and slung it over a broad shoulder. His brown eyes spotted one of his assistants. “Summoner!” He called, “Fetch a bucket of salt water and clean this up.” He pointed to the blood on the ground and on the bases of the statues. Wide-eyed, the boy nodded, and ran to the house of the Priest.
*****
-
end chapter six
