Interlude: The Groves
Anger
Burning
Twisting
Turning
Taking and destroying.
Killing from the inside.
Remaking in its image.
Robs you of the will to think
Fills you with the urge to break
Everything around you.
So stay your hand and remember...
If you allow yourself to rage surrender
You let the darkness once again grow stronger
And take another soldier from the fight
Anger is the path to shame and Fall
And to destruction for us all
Be calm and let yourself recall
Our only purpose is to fight the War
So pause, and bring yourself back here to us once more
- Michaelite Mantra against the Sin of Anger.
The repetition was calming - but such, I believe, is the point of a mantra. Still, at least it was helping me return my focus: focus that had been sorely lacking in recent days.
I sat in silence for a while after the last repetition, before opening my eyes and looking around the familiar surrounding of my tent in the Groves. The celestial equivalent of the blades I bear in the Corporeal Realm were on their stand to one side, my heart burning brightly before them. Other than that, my tent is fairly sparse, rather in contrast to my home in the Corporeal Realm: a camp bed, a few other weapons, and one or two images of lives lived, loves known and enemies slain. It had been the obvious place to come after the anger took me in the virtual reality hell I had recently been subjected to, and later, in the Vapulan laboratory back in the real world.
I imagine my agitation was obvious to all when I arrived, having ascended through the War Tether in Winchester (better than the university library, where I'm known, and the Common, where I might well have said or done something I would have regretted to the Novalis Seneschal there). However, having realised that my behaviour in the Corporeal Realm was unacceptable, reporting back to the Groves for my Lord Michael's judgement seemed the only appropriate thing to do.
After all, Malakim are supposed to police themselves, and I suspected that had I not returned of my own accord, I would have been returned forcibly. I certainly think that Nathaniel was on the point of taking action when I departed from him and the others.
I had planned to throw myself on the mercy of my Lord. However, I was intercepted before I reached him by one of my old tutors in the martial arts, an older Malakite named Shakiel.
"He will not see you, Ka'shi'an," he said, in his usual, quiet tone.
"I feel I have dishonoured myself," I replied, "and that I deserve punishment."
"He is aware of why you have returned," came the answer, "but he will not see you - and you should not have been so prideful as to assume he would."
The barb hit home, but did nothing to improve my humour. If anything, it made it worse.
"Then who should I offer myself to?" I demanded, "that judgement might be made."
A slight smile appeared on his usually impassive features.
"He is not without sympathy, and has asked me to guide you back to yourself," he replied, "come."
Trying unsuccessfully to hide my frustration, I followed him towards one of the training areas of the Groves. There, he crossed to the armourer, took a pair of staves from him, and then threw one to me. I caught it deftly, then looked at him, waiting to find out his intentions.
"First, Ka'shi'an, we will fight," he answered, his tone firm and quiet, but brooking no disagreement, "then, once you are calmer, we will talk, and you will tell me what has brought you to your current situation."
I felt a surge of anger once more at his attitude, but before I could protest he had come towards me and engaged me in combat. Quickly, I realised that he wasn't playing: he was in deadly earnest, and I found myself rising to the challenge. I had never beaten Shakiel before, but I knew that my skills had grown since the last time I had trained with him in the Groves, and so I was determined to give him a run for his money.
I do not know how long we fought for: only that by the end I was closer to him in skill than I had ever been, and that anger had given way to enjoyment. Finally, he surprised me with a move that caused me to lose my footing, and I fell back. He put the business end of his staff to my face, the way it would be if he were about to deliver a coup de grace, thus indicating that I should yield and that the fight was over. I conceded, and then he helped me back to my feet.
"That is better," he said, returning the weapons to the armourer, "you have improved, Ka'shi'an. I am impressed."
I managed a weak smile. "I had a good teacher."
He gave a slight shrug, and then indicated for me to follow him to one of the rest areas.
"Alas, you have inherited Tierna's tendency to rage," he continued as we sat, "but then, Mercurians are prone to fits of improper emotion. It is a shame you didn't follow Afsath's more appropriate Malakite temperament."
I hadn't really known either of my "parents" - the angels who had given part of themselves to create me. They had been lost in the War while I was still very young. All I really knew of them was hearsay, and more of that about Afsath than Tierna, who was barely mentioned. Still, I am sensitive to their memory, and was uncomfortable at hearing Shakiel's words.
"I am what I am," I answered, my tone slightly defensive, "and much of that is from them."
"Oh, I am well aware of that," came the reply, along with the ghost of another smile, "which is one of the reasons why you have always been one of my more interesting students. You are almost as much Mercurian as Malakite at times... you love life too much, Ka'shi'an."
"Given that the preservation of life in the Corporeal Realm is one of our primary purposes," I replied, "is that wrong? How can we understand those we are protecting if we do not share some of their experiences?"
"It is not wrong if you keep it in check," Shakiel answered, "at least for the Servitors of War. After all, Lord Michael is more lenient on these matters than many of the others - especially Lord Dominic - as long as they do not interfere with your conduct of your duties. The problems occur when you do not, and it begins to, which appears to be the case currently."
Unfortunately, after my experiences of the last few days, I could not deny that. However, I would argue that being left to drown by a mysterious Ethereal, and shanghaied by servants of Vapula working on their master's direct order could try the patience of a saint. I've never claimed to be one of those.
"If I know you at all, Ka'shi'an," Shakiel said, looking at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, "you have bitten off more than you can chew again. Such is going to either get you killed or...as seems more likely in this instance...disgraced. And I will confess that I would prefer to see neither - both of my own account, and in honour of the memory of Afsath, who I considered a friend. So tell me...what has prompted your slide into anger."
I settled back began to give him a full account: of the swimming pool, of our fears of Legion, the events on the Fort, the Vapulan plot we had disrupted in the warehouse, and finally the fact that Vapula himself had decided to take an interest in myself and my companions.
Once I had finished, I looked at him, trying to gauge his reactions, but the expression I saw was thoughtful. Then he looked at me again.
"So you have incurred the enmity of a Prince, and of at least one, and probably more, powerful Ethereals. Obviously Esek wasn't a big enough challenge for you."
I was about to protest, when he made a calming gesture, and I realised that rather than being annoyed, he was amused. I have to admit, I didn't see the funny side of it myself.
"Quiet, Ka'shi'an," he commanded, before I could speak further, "I can see I was right in my earlier assessment. And that the quality of your enemies has once more improved."
Briefly, I wondered how he knew what my Lord Michael had said to me in the dojo, but decided that it was probably wiser not to pry. Then he continued.
"The way to overcome your enemies, however, is to get yourself back under control. The anger plays into their hands. Meet them with calm. Do not seek revenge."
I shrugged. "That's a lot easier said than done," I commented.
"It should not be," came the firm reply, "you were not that slow a student. Wilful, perhaps. But not slow. Do you not remember the disciplines I taught you when you were younger?"
I nodded, remembering that it was not so very long ago that I had used my own developments of them - the night after I had succumbed to fear in Vapula's warehouse. I looked down at my hand, but of course the scar from the katana cut was on the hand of my vessel, not my true form.
"Then we must apply them once more. Meditation. Constructive combat. That which the mortals call Tai Chi - a very useful technique, and one I know you have adopted yourself. All of these can assist you. But I feel you will be staying here for a while: until such time as I believe that you are ready to return to the Corporeal."
"What about my role there?"
"Someone can be sent to look after things in that area for you," he replied, "in fact, I have the perfect candidate in mind. He is young - although not so impetuous as this Lucas whom you describe, and not visiting the Corporeal for the first time - and looking after things for you for a few days down there will do him good."
"Who is he?"
"His name is Jonias. He is another Malakite - one of my more promising recent pupils. Like you, part of his time on the Corporeal has been spent in the Orient, and he is quite capable of minding things in your absence."
"And if I do not wish him to?"
He shook his head.
"Ka'shi'an. You came to Lord Michael - to us - and you were right to do so," he answered, once again using that firm, quiet tone he had down pat, "however, having seen your plight and heard your story, I cannot, in all conscience, allow you to return. At least, not until I feel that you have controlled your anger. Were you anything but a Malakite, there would be grave cause for concern about your likelihood of Falling in your current state."
"I'm calm now," I pointed out.
"Yes, but how little provocation will cause you to lose that control once more? No, you will stay here, under my tutelage once more, and let Jonias see to your affairs below."
I looked at him again, but I knew him well enough to know that when his mind was made up on such matters, there would be no argument. And within myself, I knew he was right. Hopefully, that meant that I wasn't too far gone down the path of my own destruction.
Finally, I nodded my acquiescence to his demand, and waited to hear what he proposed to do with me.
So here you see me. The words of the mantra are still going around in my head, but at least I feel that some of my inner equilibrium has returned.
All of it?
As yet, Shakiel does not believe so, but he has said he is pleased with my progress and hopes it will not be long.
Lord Michael was in the Groves today, and honoured us by spending some time with the group which I was training - part of Shakiel's "constructive combat" has included my taking up duties as an instructor of non-Michaelite angels who are here to learn the martial skills. However, I felt it wiser to say nothing in his presence - at least, not until I feel I have regained the right.
Once again, I glance around my tent, my eyes resting for a few moments on my heart. And then...
"Ka'shi'an," comes Shakiel's voice from the entrance, "join me. It is time for your next lesson."
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Feather and Bone