Season Content Notes: play violence
That evening, after dinner, Iberto sought out Kira. She was seated on one of the many porches lining the Temple, watching the sun set.
“May I join you?” Iberto did not want to intrude, but the Called of the Balance had given him more information on the debt he owed Kira, and he wanted to try and make some of it right.
Kira looked up at him and scowled. “If you must.”
“I think perhaps I do.” But Iberto kept his distance and stayed standing, leaning against one of the pillars.
The scowl did not lessen. “And why is that?”
“The Called of the Balance has reminded me that I owe you a debt.”
For a time, neither spoke, watching the sun slip down below the roofs of the surrounding city. Iberto waited patiently, knowing this was a different kind of hunt. Finally, Kira said, “I don’t know what payment is even possible.”
Iberto nodded. “I cannot offer payment tonight, but perhaps a return of sorts. Will you walk with me?”
After a pause, Kira nodded and rose to join him. She was not scowling quite so much. Iberto began walking, his steps sure and silent. He led the way to the temple gate.
She looked between him and the gate, uncertainty plain on her face.
“Come,” Iberto said, stepping off the Temple grounds.
“But…” Kira said, staring at him. “I thought…”
Iberto smiled, trying to keep it gentle, “The monks would have us believe we are trapped here, but we are not. You know already that I leave for my hunts. Even more than I, you cannot be captured or held, sun-called.”
“We can leave?” She stepped off the Temple grounds as well.
“All of us can. Hannu, called of the Green, even now ministers to the far shrines and temples. And,” Iberto paused, “Those who have friends or family are not meant to be cut off from them.”
She turned to stare at him, tears shining in her eyes. “I can go back?”
“Of course. I never meant for you to think you couldn’t.” He gestured out towards the city. “Go. Tell them what has happened.”
She took a step. Another. And Iberto groaned as the call rang out across his soul, knowing Kira felt the same. The Word Weaver had called their chosen, and they must go to the high altar to witness it.
To his surprise and relief, Kira only laughed. “Of course!” she turned and strode back into the temple. “Theater folk keep late hours, a few minutes, shouldn’t hurt, right?”
Iberto smiled. “A few minutes should be alright.” He turned and headed for the altar room, with Kira following behind him.
When Hannu arrived at the small shrine in Two Pines, she was surprised to see people gathered and waiting for her. “Greetings,” one said as she approached. “We were told that the Called of the Green was traveling and might grace our shrine with her presence. Are you the called?”
“I am.” She studied the people for a moment. Perhaps this would be like petitioners at the temple. “Why do you seek me?” The Green was pleased with quite a few of them. All were those who used the Green’s gifts as best they could.
The small crowd stirred excitedly, murmuring to each other. One of them stepped forward, a weather-worn man wearing sturdy leathers suited for travel through brush and woods. “Lady,” he bowed, “We are honored you grace our small shrine. May we offer you the hospitality of the village?”
Hannu bowed in response. This wasn’t the first time people had come out to meet her, but it surprised her every time, how excited they were to meet one of the Called. How her simple presence reminded people that the godde existed, that it cared. “I would be honored.”
Several weeks had passed since Soren had been Called by the Word Weaver and Iberto was getting antsy. He still took joy in his brother’s presence, but Amir was buried in his books whenever Iberto did not drag him out for more physical training. Iberto himself was making no progress in his hunt of the monks.
Maybe it was time for a different hunt. A hunt for another called. Iberto laid down and took a walk into the dream realm, seeking out a new hunt trail. Which godde had the strongest connection to a follower? Where was the next Called?
There! Iowe the Moon, partner to Han the Sun, had not one but several fine trails leading out into the world. Iberto wasn’t sure which one to follow. Was it as simple as picking the strongest? Or was there something else he was looking for?
He had to learn more about the Moon before deciding which trail to follow. Two of them led off in similar directions, acquaintances in some other city? He knew the moon fluctuated in cycles. Sometimes closer, sometimes farther, smaller or larger. Did that have something to do with the choice he needed to make?
Decision made, he slipped out of the dream realm to seek out Iowe. Perhaps the Moon would be willing to help him in this hunt.
Amir put the book he had been reading away with a sigh and turned to see the Great Goddess had joined him in the old library. Joy filled him and his heart sped up at the prospect of another, different, hunt. “Goddess,” he greeted her.
“Mine,” she replied, putting a hand on his arm. “Your hunt goes well?”
“Better than I hoped, though some of these answers are concerning.” He frowned. He didn’t know what to conclude yet about how different these old writings were from the monks’ teachings.
She chuckled, “I am sure they are. For now, come, there is that which you should see.” The goddess led him from the library and through the halls, to an alcove near a room used for petitions. From the alcove, they could hear much of what went on in the room without being seen. “It has been long years since my priests have received a petitioner,” she said, “But they still come for the others from time to time.”
Amir looked out into the petition chambers, seeing the Called of the Fields as they met with a local farmer. The farmer wrung his hands as he spoke. “The freeze this spring did much damage to my main crops. Is there anything to be done that can help my coming harvest?”
The Called placed a hand on the farmer’s hands. “There is little that can cut through the damage of such a frost. Take some of the later-growing crops and plant them where your damaged ones have died. I give you the blessing of the fields that the surviving crops will grow strong and healthy in the coming summer.”
“Thank you.” The farmer’s slumped shoulders straightened. “I will find my late seeds and plant them, then.” With that, the farmer left the Called alone.
Amir studied the interaction, assisted by the power of the Great Goddess in him. The farmer had come to see his crops saved, but that could not be the answer. The Called of the Fields had offered another option.
“Come,” the Great Goddess said again, and Amir followed. She led him this time to the great altar, the center of the temple. Here, Kira, the sun-called, stood in the front of the room, looking uncomfortable, leading prayers and songs in honor of the sun. “There was a time,” the goddess said, “When this room was never empty, never quiet. Priests of each godde took it in turn to lead prayers and services here and at the smaller altars throughout the temple.”
“I begin to understand the old writings better with that information.” Amir frowned. He’d read about some of the songs of Hunt and Field and Sun and Moon. Even read the text of some of them, though he hadn’t deciphered the musical notations. Still, that was only a part of his hunt. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be briefly lost in the rhythm of the current song.
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