Slumrat Rising

Chapter 89: A Mage And A Gentleman, (2)

Merkovah informed Truth that there would be extensive meetings in the temple today, and he would be needed for important Standing Around duty on the other side of the door from the meeting. Truth duly dressed in the provided pseudo-military set of clothes, wore his zeph as instructed, belted on his sword, and guarded the door. It was exactly as exciting as he remembered.

The one added wrinkle, an unpleasant grit of annoyance, was that Etenesh and Jember did not seem to understand that chatting to him was Not OK. They pointed out that the hallway was practically empty, and it was very boring staring at a blank wall for umpteen hours. Which was true but also not the point. He was working while he was staring at the wall for umpteen hours. He was paying attention to all the noises and sudden quiets. He was alert for alarms and standing by for signals. Guarding, done right, wasn’t just boring; it was exhausting. And they weren’t helping.

They looked very sulky about that. Still, they got. The hallway mostly stayed empty, and the few passers-by didn’t linger. Something about Truth discouraged idle curiosity. This gave Truth plenty of time to indulge his idle curiosity about the walls around him. From floor to ceiling, they had been inscribed. Some small parts of it were in Re’enyo… possibly. The letters looked more or less right, but the words they made didn’t make sense. Perhaps an older version of the language or simply a related tongue. The majority of the inscriptions were in languages he couldn’t even recognize or even in little pictures.

Presumably, they meant something religious. He had no idea what. It was interesting the way the languages seemed to mix together. Like there was some bigger pattern he couldn’t see yet. Too close to the wall. Too lost in the detail.

The other thing that kept distracting him was, naturally, sex. In that, it seemed pretty freely available. It was just another part of socialization, from what he could tell, though the rules changed dramatically after marriage. Pregnancy, STIs… all non-issues. Everyone knew how to make the little homemade charms. The bigger problem was someone being a selfish lover or just a jerk in bed. Word got around fast, according to Jember. He was looking kind of wistful. The self-imposed chastity was taking a toll.

The flip side of that was… apparently, nobody cared about their virginity. It wasn’t shameful. It wasn’t something to protect. It seemed to have all the emotional weight of- Truth couldn’t think of a parallel. He didn’t mention to the cousins that he was a virgin. People in Xandre might not care, but he did.

The conference broke for lunch. Truth tentatively sorted people by hats- the tiny decorative hat group, the people wearing bigger, pointier hats, the people with round white hats (almost certainly Desrin), and the generically hatted. Nobody appeared to be bareheaded, though there were some who had pretty clearly just grabbed any old hat out of politeness. He caught little snippets of conversation-

“Totally ignoring the economic collapse of the Ben-Zhu block…”

“Not a lot of rain this winter. Going to cost a fortune in sacrifices and reagents.”

“Staple crops. We nail down staple crops, start ripping out the stuff for export-”

“Somebody must have a line or a back channel. Someone!”

“Jeon is acting like everything is fine, obviously, but that’s nonsense.”

“It may be time to consider some… drastic steps towards reducing demand…”

“It’s the not knowing. You know?”

“Palace isn’t making a peep, of course…”

“Jane’s pregnant. I keep thinking about that. She’s pregnant. Now.”

“Any chance of direct divine intervention? Because it may come to that.”

“Look, food’s the key, but think about everything else that goes down with it.”

“It’s going to be war, of course. The only question is, who will be on the planet to fight it?”

This last statement was given casually to Truth by an older lady from the white hat crowd. She looked at him speculatively. “What do you think, young man?”

“I think I don’t know enough to have a useful opinion, Ma’am.”

She started laughing, startling everyone around her. “No, I don’t suppose you do. I wish I did.” Chuckling, she rejoined the crowd headed for lunch.

___________________________________________

Later that evening, a mentally exhausted Truth was led to a small stone chamber covered in yet more of the inscriptions. In the middle of the chamber was a basin of water with a small mat next to it.

“The function of this room is quite simple. Reflection. There is nothing here that you didn’t bring in. Nothing at all. In fact, I would strongly recommend getting naked and leaving everything in the basket by the door, though it’s not mandatory.” Merkovah had looked grim all day and hadn’t lightened up one bit since the end of the conference.

“Start with Incisive. You seem to have made good progress there. Then the Meditations. Someone will come and get you in a couple of hours. Don’t argue with them- it’s not good to stay here too long. You can get lost.”

The chamber was barely three meters square, and other than the basin and mat, was completely empty.

“Yes, Teacher.”

Truth did as suggested, stripping off and leaving everything by the door. He asked about the safety of leaving a highly valuable, literally angelic weapon in a cubby and got a long-suffering sigh in response.

“You are in Temple Nag-Hamadi. My home temple. Nobody, nobody, is going to touch that sword without my permission.” Merkovah pointed Truth into the chamber. He went.

Truth sat on the mat. He looked into the basin in case it, too, was full of celestial wisdom. Arguably it was. In that it was full of water. Truth shrugged and sat back, trying to breathe steadily. Trying to keep the image of Botis in his mind.

It was like trying to balance a tree on your fingertip.

Botis was. That was the key thing to Truth. Botis existed and was fully, completely himself. Without hypocrisy or shame or reservation. Not boasting, not flaunting. He simply was, and that was more than enough. Truth interrogated that thought a bit. Botis ultimately had the form of a serpent. A viper. An ambush predator. Did that count as hiding the self?

Perhaps, but Botis was not hiding from himself. And it was only when hunting. In fact, the difference between Botis hunting and not hunting may be known only to Botis. He was still until it was time to make a decisive move. Truth frowned a little. That was important, but not the key.

Botis simply was, and that was enough. Why did that seem so important? Was Botis egotistical? Perhaps, to an extent. He was so self-contained, so self-sufficient, it was hard to imagine him giving a damn about someone or something else. But again, that felt like it was missing the mark. Botis was a viper. A swordsman of incredible subtlety and a speaker of deep insight. Ah, was this it? He felt like he was on the right track.

Botis as a debater, as a public speaker, not a viper or swordsman. He would speak with absolute assurance when he chose to speak. He would see directly to the heart of an issue and speak to it. He could see through the confused thoughts of others. How? How could he do that?

Because Botis knew himself. That utter self-knowledge was the basis of his confidence and of his understanding of others. Botis accepted all he was in every way that thought could be understood. Botis… loved… himself.

Truth’s mind stuttered a moment on that. Botis loved himself. He accepted himself for everything he was and everything he wasn’t. Loved those things, not passionately or obsessively, but steadily. Contentedly. And because of that foundation, he was able to think clearly, not getting in his own way. He could move instantly without getting in his own way.

The true core of Incisive, the First Gem of Botis, was two words- “Love Yourself.” Everything followed from there. Truth didn’t love himself.

He started shaking just a little, but he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t love himself. It never occurred to him that it should matter. Well, yes, it did occur to him. It had been occurring to him ever since he left the Free State, even if he hadn’t phrased it quite that way. He didn’t love himself. His mind was torn up, yanked between knowing damn well he didn’t deserve love and desperately wanting it. Had he missed the mark the whole time?

Truth remembered holding Etenesh as she cried. Holding her like she was spun sugar. Brittle and threatening to melt. She seemed warm to him. But he remembered a core of painful coldness within him. A part of him that he didn’t dare let warm up. He always thought it would be the warmth of someone else that would comfort him. But how could someone love him if he couldn’t accept their love? How could he accept their love if he didn’t love himself?

The basin rippled. Something dropped into it. Then again. He looked into the basin and saw himself. He saw himself crying. When had he last cried? He couldn’t remember. It had been a long time ago. A lifetime ago. Was it… when he found out he passed? Yes, that was probably it. He remembered crying when he found out he passed the SAT. Found out that he was a Starbrite Man. That someone out there, wise and powerful, thought he was good enough.

Someone else thought that he was enough.

He had been holding the blade even then, hadn’t he? Etenesh told him he could put down the blade, but even in the happiest moment of his life, he couldn’t put it down. He clung to it tighter than ever. His first thought was to sever away his pain, and he cut away his hellish parents. He didn’t know how to put down the blade. How can you hug yourself with a sword in your hand? How can you hug another? All you can do is cut.

Love yourself. The opinions of others are worthless. Only you are able to love yourself. Only you can complete yourself. Easy to say. Easy to think. How many could really do it? Truth was sobbing now. He was certain he wasn’t one of those who could.

The young man who came to collect Truth didn’t seem surprised to find him sobbing. He just carefully put him in a robe and handed him the basket with his things, the holy sword jutting out to one side. He was returned to his room, and all he could do was grip the sheath in his hands until his knuckles turned white. The thoughts kept going around and around- it wasn’t enough to know yourself. You had to love yourself. And he didn’t. He wasn’t even sure he knew himself. Actually, he was sure he didn’t know himself. There was a gentle knock on his door.

“Tommy? Can I come in?”

He didn't have the strength to speak. He didn’t want to see Etenesh. But the one thing he did know was that he couldn’t stay as he was. It hurt too much. So he made himself stand up, open the door, and sit back down on the bed.

“Tommy? Can I hug you?” Truth choked back a sob.

“I don’t know. I hope you can. Just don’t hurt yourself trying.”

She wrapped her arms around him. She smelled of sun and of drying spices. A hint of temple incense clung to her, mixing and rising with the warmth of her skin. She was very warm. The core of Truth didn’t thaw. But eventually, it was enough to comfort him.

“I hope you never understand me. Not really. But I hope you can come to care for me. I… care for you, I think, in my own mutilated way.” Truth struggled to get the words out. He didn’t really know what he was trying to say.

Etenesh just hung on to him. Keeping him from flying away.