Grey Eagle - Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Two days later Raach came in. There had been no lessons, and his resolve had crumbled and died, but his depression remained, condemning him. It was not yet lunchtime, and Raach sat at the table, waiting. Arion joined him, but Raach remained silent for some time. "I can't seem to make up my mind about you," he said at last. Arion looked up, waiting, detached. "Why did you sing to them?"

"...I thought He wanted me to."

"And what do you think now?"

He shook his head. "Didn't we cover this last time?"

"Did we?"

"Yeah. You said I was wrong."

"But what do you believe?"

He shook his head, thinking of his inability to kill Reegat. You don't like what He's saying and you simply don't listen. "...I don't know," he said wearily. "I don't know anything anymore."

"Ok... What if I'm wrong?"

Arion looked up at him, each succeeding thought a harsher wound, till he put his head down in his arms, writhing. "Then you win."

"Even if I'm wrong? How can I?"

Arion picked up his face and glared at him, smiling bitterly. "What's the matter Raach? Are you sorry you broke your toy? The joke's on both of us. That stupid wonderful spirit you wanted so much is spoiled. Go ahead and take it pyon. What good is a spirit that God doesn't want? All I've done is make one big mess after another. That's not spirit, just stupidity. If you want it, you can have it."

"Then why do you still care?"

Furious, Arion hurled his cup at him - then groaned and collapsed on the table, horrified. When nothing happened, he looked up.

Raach was smiling slightly. "Not broken."

Arion hesitated, then shook his head. "So what?"

"What if he doesn't exist? He should have protected you."

He shook his head again. "He exists. It's not His fault. You beat me, but you can't beat Him. He never wanted me in the first place."

Raach was silent for a bit, then left, but returned shortly with the mythra. "If I let you have it back, will you promise not to sing to them?"

He looked at the instrument, wistful, but shook his head. "No promises for free," he said softly. Raach smiled slightly and nodded, then brought it over to him. Arion accepted it, visibly surprised. "You'll let me have it anyway?"

"It seems to help you feel better."

"Why should you care how I feel?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"...Because Satan's loose, and you're helping him. It's what you wanted."

He shook his head. "No. I do not serve Dokapka. I have been angry with you, but I have never desired your misery. Right now I want to help you."

"When I was happy, you wanted to destroy it. Now that you succeeded, you want to help me. Why?"

"Because I care. Because you care." He smiled then, shaking his head again. "Sometimes I find it very easy to despise you. But sometimes you surprise me, and I find a great deal to admire. I am not sure of you." He laughed then, at his own foolishness.

"I warn you though," he continued seriously, the smile disappearing, "leave them alone. If you try to use them against me again, I will break you. I will bring out the needles and the wires. Yes. I will have many promises, Cedrychad. Leave them alone." He left.

Arion took a deep breath, his whole body tingling with goosebumps. He sighed again, and began tuning the mythra. He tinkered then, a melancholy tune...

Softly, he sang.

The beauty of Creation
I've seen on every side,
Yet when I view my crippled self
I'm left unsatisfied.

The dreamer lives within me
And hopes to serve You still;
Ideals cry the shame of life,
Unable to fulfill.

The lesson went better that evening, but Arion felt awkward and horrible, Raach's presence distracting and disturbing. The next evening was much the same, but when it was over, he stopped Raach as he was leaving. "Are you coming to see me this evening?"

He smiled. "Is that a question or an invitation?"

"...An invitation."

"Then yes, I'll come."

Arion nodded. After his shower, he came out to find Raach waiting. "Hey."

He smiled. "Venatese."

Arion returned the smile, small and uncertain. "Reisa." He sat down and accepted his cup. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He waited then, silent.

Arion waited also, but soon realized that it was up to him to begin, the visit being his idea. He hesitated, toying with his cup. "Raach... What are you? To you I mean. How do you see yourself?"

"One of the Infinite's creatures."

"So you believe in God, even though you haven't got a soul?"

He sighed and frowned, hesitating. "I make a distinction between your narrow view and your broader view. Humans tend to define the Infinite, with names and rules and what they think He is, and what they think He should be. This is the god I refer to as your god," he said, using the Homonic term, "and I don't believe in him. But I do know of The Infinite, not subject to the rules of petty human imagination. The Infinite is mentioned in your writings, but you lose the meaning in your rhetoric.

"You have Jesus, 'Son of Man, Son of God.' He came to you because you couldn't understand the Infinite. And they named Him, defined Him, and when He didn't fit the way they thought He should, they murdered Him, just as He knew they would. But He came anyway. For the ones who could see beyond the rules and names, beyond the people who said He didn't fit, beyond those who twisted truth to suit themselves. How can you hope to understand what I know or believe when you cannot even understand the truth presented especially for you?"

Arion took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. He nodded. "And why do you hate me so much?"

"Truth?"

"Truth."

"Because you are a waste. Kirtika. You throw away your potential and you don't even know what you've lost. I hate you because you are a ready channel for Dokapka's evil."

He nodded, not fighting the judgment, but he asked, "Do you think everyone you kill is kirtika?"

"Definitely not. But anyone I break or execute is."

"What if you're wrong?" he asked softly.

"Am I?"

His eyebrows came up and he sighed, shaking his head, shrugging. It was a sincere question for which he had no answer. "If I am kirtika, why would you care how I feel?"

"I wouldn't. As I said, you puzzle me. I am not sure of you."

Arion smiled slightly, nodding. "...Do you have a soul?"

Raach stared at him for a long moment. "I can't answer that in a way you would understand."

Arion frowned. "Why not? You don't know?"

He sat still as a statue, his eyes piercing and unpleasant. "I know."

Arion stared at his cup, uncomfortable. He was obviously treading dangerous ground, but he couldn't understand why. Unless the answer was no, and he didn't want to say so. So why didn't he just lie? Unless he was a demon... He resisted the thought as too ridiculous, and yet... If Satan really was loose again... "Do you believe in Satan?" he asked carefully.

"Dokapka. Yes."

"Can he affect you?" "He was the archangel, Cedrychad. He waged war against the angels themselves. No, I am not immune, but I don't serve him either."

He nodded, disturbed, then frowned, frustrated. It was all too stupid. He was just an animal, jealous and spiteful, trying to confuse him. "If you know God," he challenged, "how can you go around killing us? If you know that we're the children of God..."

"What is death to an heir of eternal life? Your death means nothing. I am subject to different rules, Cedrychad. I am given a different purpose. The spirits I break are made available to me. They are deserving."

He struggled with himself then, his fear and doubt collapsing into anger. "Deserving? Made available? He wouldn't do that to us! You're the ones who make us available, hunting us down like animals. Stealing babies that never even had a chance!"

Raach shook his head. "Who are you to say what He wouldn't do? He's handed His children over more than once, or don't you read your own history? As for babies, do you condemn them? I don't. And stop mixing your answers all together in one file. You make your rules and then change them whenever they become inconvenient or confusing. How many times have you told us He wouldn't let us break your spirit?"

"They wouldn't break at all if you left them alone!" he exclaimed, infuriated by Raach's continued composure.

"No. You would simply never learn that you are filth." He rose calmly and left.

Arion growled, kicking out at Raach's empty chair in impotent anger. "Hey Raach!" he yelled, coming as close to the doorway as he could reach, spitefully abandoning the Venatese. "You're wrong! You hear me? You're wrong! Now who's putting rules on God, huh? Just because I'm in here doesn't mean He doesn't love me. What happens to you then? You hear me, Venat? What happens to you?

"...Maybe I made a few mistakes. Maybe I'm not perfect. Well, He never said I had to be. That's what His Son is for! I have a strong root, Venat. You should have let me die because my root runs too deep to pull out. You hear me? What happens to you now?"

For the next two days, lessons were tense and aggressive. Nothing was said of the discussion, but each time their eyes met, challenge was issued. Reegat became vicious again, seeming to feel both vulnerable and ignored. Arion played on both, venting himself as fully as he dared, allowing nothing. Raach did not visit.

In total contrast, the following two days were empty and vacuous. With no lessons, he had thought surely Raach would come, and was disappointed when he did not. Still deeply frightened of him, and unsure of what to do with himself, he felt a fresh conviction, and a strong need to exercise it.

Time and again he tried to pray, but his thoughts repeatedly became skittish and disjointed, reminiscent of the marshmallow room. Time and again his doubts returned, Raach's accusations haunting his fragile new optimism.

Aviel, forgive me... Forgive my doubts. You know my heart, and You know I don't doubt You. But when I look at myself, I get so scared... Protect me from Satan's lies. Please help me.

Sweep my clutter away and let me hear You plainly. Let me love You enough to accept what You want. Open my heart with new understanding, so I can do what You really want instead of what I think You want. Don't let Raach beat me. Don't let him fill me so full of hate that I lose You.

Help me to leave my own expectations behind, to be ready and accepting of whatever happens. Thy will be done, Father, not mine. As Jesus showed us in the garden, it may seem hard at present, but You always know what You're doing, and it's always for the best. Be with me.

Thank You. In Jesus's name I pray. Thank You. Amen.