Grains of Faith in a Desert of Sand [Colombina]

[Eshatoh]

Eshatoh found himself faintly offended by the man’s slightly patronizing tone, but, really, he deserved, and he had absolutely no way of finding north with any degree of accuracy for a few hours yet.

So he set off with the man, withholding any comment. Turned out, they guy could talk enough for both of them. For a moment, Eshatoh wondered if he was merely being led on, if this guy was some sort of criminal waiting to kill him and steal the water he held inside. But he seemed far too sincere for that, and his speech came easily, in a natural cadence.

So why had this complete stranger elected to lead him? The situation, frankly, seemed absurd. A Chaktawe, a part of the race known for being quietly confident in all things related to the desert, was being led by a human, and the reason this assistance wasn’t even clear.

Instead of confusing himself by thinking on that particular issue, Eshatoh elected to just observe the scenery. It was a beautiful region, even to someone as jaded as him. The clean lines of a desert vista still managed to inspire a small amount of awe in him even after all the years—even with the harsh truth he knew the beauty concealed.

All the while, the man kept up a constant stream of talk. He seemed to think it imperative that a quiet moment never existed in his immediate vicinity. He rambled from good-natured questions about Eshatoh’s intentions to philosophical musings on the advantages of desert life. Neither was something he particularly wanted to address with a complete stranger, so as the man pointed out the acacia grove up ahead, Eshatoh took the opportunity to insert into the rather one-sided himself conversation.

“I thank you for your assistance and offer my most humble apologies for my previous behavior.” Thinking on it now, a slight red cast came over his features. How had he let his emotions get so out of control? Something strange was going on- he was normally very even tempered. Maybe it was a residue of whatever had been in the water. “My name is Eshatoh. May I inquire as to yours?” he asked as they ascended the lip of the acacia-encircled valley.

[Colombina]

When asked his name, the man was already making a beeline for the cluster of acacia.
He held up a hand for a moment of quiet from Eshatoh (an unnecessary gesture) and knelt at the root of one tree. He lifted both his hands in a show of worship and began to pray.

"Lady Makutsi, I ask for water for Eshatoh. He needs it because he is running away from his searching for greener pastures. I cannot blame him when I think about how he feels about the desert. Because it is his special running away day," here he winked sidelong at Eshatoh, "Please bestow water."

On cue, the man began dig at the roots of the tree. After throwing clods of dirt and sand behind him for a while, the hole he had made began to fill with water. It wasn't an abundance, but enough for several handfuls.

"There, Makutsi smiled on you."

The man looked proud of himself as he stepped away from the hole.

"So, do you care to seek your guardian, Eshatoh, or are you fixed on leaving?"

The man sighed, "I came all the way here without an invitation. Not even, a 'guard me Crow Brother as flee'. So whether you want to look for your guardian or not, I am walking a ways with you. Fair?"

[Eshatoh]

Eshatoh watched curiously as the man dashed into the acacia grove. In the same attitude, Eshatoh followed and then stopped, as the man held up a hand. He was kneeling at the base of a tree, and suddenly held his hands up in a seemingly mocking gesture of worship.

Then he intoned his mocking prayer, and Eshatoh's confusion escalated. Who was this man that dared to bother a goddess with minor trivia and wit... And how did he know all of that anyways. All of these things combined to make Eshatoh too discombobulated to feel offended by the man's patronizing tone.

And then somehow water began to trickle into the hole that had otherwise been dry, and the man said, "There. Makutsi smiled at you." There seemed to be some sort of hidden meaning in the words, somedthing that Eshatoh should grasp but yet couldn't quite get. The man's quirky self-satisfied half-grin only confirmed this feeling.

It was an expression as fleeting as the sand carried upon the desert wind. The man's next words were in deadly earnest. He asked, "So, do you care to seek your guardian, Eshatoh, or are you fixed on leaving?" At that moment, Eshatoh didn't really know.

The man sighed and continued, "I came all the way here without an invitation. Not even, a 'guard me Crow Brother as I flee'. So whether you want to look for your guardian or not, I am walking a ways with you. Fair?"

Crow Brother? Is he trying to say... Was he speaking now to a god? Stammering, Eshatoh asked, "Wh- Who are you?"

OOCIf you could include a more thorough description of the man in your next post with things like clothing, gait of walk, and any accent, that would be much appreciated. I hope you don't mind the way I've added bits and pieces to describe his expressions at various points throughout the thread.

[Colombina]

OOCNo worries I like interaction with npcs. On a different note, feel free to send your PC abroad this season if you want him out of Eyktol. He could have travelled far in the fluid time allotted. The guardian aspect (if you choose) can be integrated as you go.

The young man sighed heavily.

"It's your searching..." he spoke slowly trying to nudge Eshatoh into understanding, "I'm here to help you make life decisions..."

The longer Eshatoh considered the young man, the clearer his ideas of identity became. Overcoming the initial hurdle of belief allowed for new outrageous conjecture.

As he spoke he gestured with his lean arms. His carriage was brisk and energetic and he was quick to grin. The man looked human but had skin colored like a Chaktawe, his long nose was sharp and his gold eyes were bright and curious.
He had accumulated the layered garb of a nomad in the colors of earth, mixing racial styles. He had breechcloth and leggings, but wore a sleeveless coat and layers of woven scarves around his neck typical of Benshira. Beads and feathers were subtly woven into the fringe of his clothes. He wore leather sandals, but seemed uncomfortable in them.

"Forget it for now," the young man wasn't going to lash Eshatoh with the facts any further. He gave an understanding smile and added, "Just call me Eya."

He began to wander in a northern direction, leading the Chaktawe towards greener lands.
"Usually there's a little more pomp, enlightenment and mysticism to the searching, but you get the abbreviated version since you're trying to flee yours."

Eya kicked a found stone across the sand as they walked, like a child would for a game.
"I heard you are seeking escape. What are you running from, Eshatoh?"

[Eshatoh]

Everything the man said only confirmed Eshatoh's conception of who this Eya was- either Eywaat incarnate, or a direct servant of the god. Either way, it meant that he should tone down his anguish and disrespect, lest this person became offended. Instead he listened and stayed quiet, gazing into the distance at the desert.

Despite inhabiting Eyktol his entire life, Eshatoh still wasn't inured to the charms of its beauty. Perhaps his hate of what lay below the surface only made the beauty of the surface all the more precious to him. The whirling spiral of sand in the distance to his left, the way the land folded into clean lines unbroken into the distance, and the brave bits of greenery that hazarded growth in this hostile environment all were things that he would miss profoundly when he left.

But his resolve remained unbroken. Despite the man's seemingly supernatural knowledge of Eshatoh's utmost secrets, he responded without faltering. He stopped walking and turned to face the man he had decided was a god and threw back his shoulders. "The desert is death." He said it defiantly but didn't look Eya in the eyes. He turned away into the distance even though it was patently obvious that he was just avoiding looking at Eya. Trying to elaborate he said, "I-," but couldn't go on. There was a lump the size of a goat caught right in his throat.

What had his parents ever done anyways?

Without another word, he turned on his heels stalked onwards, trying to hide the grimace splayed across his face.

[Colombina]

Eywaat didn't flinch or frown at Eshatoh's bitter truth. The deity listened, then followed after the Chaktawe's rapid steps.

"Bad things happen everywhere, now. The world is cruel sometimes. Not for those who have gone onward, but for those left behind."
Eywaat ran his hand over his head, resembling a bird smoothing its feathers.
"I can not mend such hurts or tell you anything that will heal. Only Tanroa does that work. What I can tell you is that there are plans and connections moving in ways one cannot always see."
The man kicked the stone at his feet, "That is little consolation, now, though."

The god walked with Eshatoh, matching the Chaktawe's furious pace. They moved in silence for a time, each possessed by their own thoughts. Finally, Eywaat spoke again.
"I have lost those I love too. They have moved onward to new lives from Lhex's hand and forgotten me. It is a peace for them, to not remember their life with me, but I do. I will remember them forever."

Staring forward into the vast mounds of sand and sky, Eywaat added, "It is not easy being the one who remembers, is it?"

Whether he expected an answer or not was vague. The god just plodded on, kicking up sand on occasion. He was breathing a little harder than normal, as if he finished a short foot race.

The scenery had changed rapidly. When Eshatoh glanced behind, it seemed like they had traversed an impossible distance. The red stone's that marked the border of Eyktol made a lumpy blur on the crest of the horizon.
Somehow, Eywaat had carried them across days' worth of travel in moments. His shortened breath was understandable, now.

[Eshatoh]

As they walked, and as his host spoke, Eshatoh noticed something strange happening to the desert. While the scenery nearby stayed fairly consistent, every time Eyawaat set his foot down, the distant scenery jumped. There was no other way to describe it. One second it was there, and then all of the sudden completely new scenery replaced it.

All in all, it was very distracting, but Eshatoh tried to pay attention; he was talking to a god after all. "I have lost those I love too. They have moved onward to new lives from Lhex's hand and forgotten me. It is a peace for them, to not remember their life with me, but I do. I will remember them forever. It is not easy being the one who remembers, is it?"

A consternated frown touched Eshatoh's face. This definitely wasn't what he had expected from one as powerful as a god. One would think all that power would make someone egotistical and easily offended. Not so, apparently. Eshatoh turned every word of the god carefully over in his mind, searching for any untruth, any of the badness that always lurked below the surface of the world, but he could find none.

For this reason, there was no bitterness in his voice when he said, "You say that there are plans --connections unseen-- but who is the master planner? You? You've convinced me that you at least of the gods have my people's best interests at heart, but I also know that you wield little power among them. In fact, none of the gods I know of wield enough influence to claim with certainty that they have a plan they know will be accomplished, so how can you make this claim?"

He stopped and turned to face the god, looking him clear in the face. He really wanted to believe that there was a good answer to the question of purpose but doubted. It showed in across his face: in the moisture gathered in his eyes, in the pained wrinkling of the forehead, and in the slight downward tilt of the lips.

[Colombina]

Eywaat met Eshatoh’s direct glare, but did not mirror the Chaktawe’s iron expression. The crow god shook his shoulders, half shrug half rustling feathers.

“I don’t know, but it sounded good, right?”

The god had turned foolish, truer to his nature. A grin glowed from his face. If he knew, he wasn’t keen on telling Eshatoh.
Since the god was not cruel, he clapped the Chaktawe on the shoulder and made some slight amends. The kid was on the brink of tears he was realizing.

“I’m here for you now, right? I am making sure the desert doesn’t eat you. And when your parents passed I was there to greet them as was Dira. You are stuck in a small place, Esh. This…”
He gestured widely with his arm, including the whole breadth of the physical world.

“Isn’t everything. But you can’t see what the gods see, not as you are.”

He began to walk again, pulling Esh along by the elbow, like an older sibling trying to make sure you could keep up.

“I’m brother-crow, not slave-crow. I won’t do all your work for you. I will give you help and guidance but, Esh, there’s faith and that makes for potent stuff. If I told you everything I knew and will do, then you get comfortable, you’ll never learn anything.”

It wasn’t the answer Eshatoh wanted, Eywaat knew that, but it was what the kid needed.
“A fat crow ceases to fly, to explore, to be curious. You are too young to be fat, or to even understand what fullness is.”

Eywaat slowed as the red stones began to rise around them. The shadows of the red giants flickered over the god as he seemingly floated them through the ravines.

When they neared the border of Eyktol, where it curved against the red stones, scrub began to widen and soften. Giant red boulders scattered the ground stacked like cairns or flat like tables. Hardy flowers and stiff grasses were pressing through the ground and breaking the rocks.

The sun was lower in the sky. As the bright light touched Eya’s skin it illuminated a pattern of feathers. It was subtle and barely noticeable, as if under the flesh the god wore.

“You have not been wise towards your searching so far, Eshatoh. You can’t live for the dead. You must seek what can still be done for the living, what can still be done for you.”
The playful god did not treasure moments of gravity, but his laughter was all the brighter because he understood and experienced his own pains and losses. It was with personal understanding that he chided the Chaktawe.

“Bitterness rots the bones, where joy is health to your marrow.”

[Eshatoh]

This was the Eywaat that Eshatoh had expected. Well this is the Eywaat that he would have expected if he had expected to meet Eywaat at all. Eshatoh gave him a small grin, that involved his mouth only.

He had shown a part of himself that nobody else even suspected of existence. Truthfully, he had forgotten that he could even show that much emotion, and now he retreated from it. His face settled into its familiar stoic impassiveness, and his feet widened slightly to plant themselves more firmly on the ground, and then he was yanked off balance as the god caught at his elbow, pulling him stumbling along.

He listened with half his mind as Eywaat rambled on about fat crows, being comfortable, and his lack of wisdom, but didn’t really pay much attention. The god had already as much as told him that he wouldn’t give out any more answers, and he certainly wasn’t going to shame himself by revealing any more of his inner turmoil.

Instead he watched the scenery jumping away behind him and coming into focus in front. The empty vistas of the desert were rapidly becoming a thing far removed. Instead, rocky red soil in chaotic configurations filled the horizon. And then came the first canyon. Suddenly Eshatoh looked down and his feet no longer were pressed to the ground. Instead he seemed to be treading on emptiness. It was a dizzying sensation and Eshatoh thoughtlessly steadied himself on Eywaat shoulder.

That was when it really sank in: He was flying through the air with a god. He had basically insulted the god’s ability to get anything done. He refused to stay within the people the god basically devoted his life to, and he was still alive. He withdrew his hand as if scalded.

Finally they came to a stop in a place where shrubs were just beginning to become common. Tufts of grass even held out in some places. To Eshatoh, this place was a miracle. He stood looking in awe at a single shoot of a plant for ten whole seconds.

Eywaat began speaking, and Eshatoh paid attention this time. “You have not been wise towards your searching so far, Eshatoh. You can’t live for the dead. You must seek what can still be done for the living, what can still be done for you. Bitterness rots the bones, where joy is health to your marrow.”

Eshatoh would have laughed if he hadn’t already placed his emotionless mask back across his face. Of course he hadn’t been wise towards his Searching in the god’s eyes. The only reason he had undertaken it in the first place was for freedom. He had acted in perfect wisdom given the goals he espoused.

None of these thoughts even glimmered across his face of course. Turning to the god he bowed formally and said, “I think I must seek for the living outside of this desert for now. All it has brought me is death.” Eshatoh’s cheeks reddened a bit at the blatant melodramatic overstatement, but he plunged on. “I thank you for the assistance… I won’t ask anything more of you.”

Eshatoh looked down for a moment and then back up at Eywaat. “You better have given my father quite the welcome after he died. If there was anybody who ever lived as the legends say you recommend, it was him.” He gave a genuine but bittersweet smile.

OOCThat felt good even though I'm sure I'll come back and wince when I see it in a few days.

[Colombina]

"Your father?" Eywaat smiled, reminded of happy meetings.
"He is a friend to crows. I wager I will see him again in a life or two."

Eywaat tilted his head to the side. His eyes were bright as a bird’s as he gave Eshatoh one last appraisal.

“He would want you happy, Eshatoh. It is partially for him that I come uncalled.”

The bird god shrugged, as if adjusting feathers.

“I am sad you do not seek a guardian, but to each their own. Other peoples live good lives without them.”

Eywaat gestured towards the grasslands.

“Go into the green world. Feed your curiosity! Even though my heart is here, I find the green lands good places.”

The god gave a white grin and tipped his head slightly.

"If you think of it, set a place for Brother Crow sometime."

With a clap of his hands he was pulled back into the sky. The fine design of feathers under his skin glowed like hot metal and rose from his body making a bird of light. A blink and the shape was full.

The man had gone and a massive red-tailed hawk remained making circles in the sky.