There I was .. sitting on the steps again. Pondering the existentialism of blackwine .. all alone ... in the big wide universe.Probably because I had been drinking paga most of the night before. But that is just a quick assumption without any facts to give my theory backbone.
Seveya was watched as she approached. Said approach was very slow and painful .. she looked like she had been run over by a kaiila. Which is pretty much what had happened when she had tried to ride the unbroken beast .. though she had ridden it ... the result was much the same as getting run over. I told her to come sit by me. Which was odd. Odd because I rarely tell free women what to do and even more rare do I tell them to come any closer. In this case Seveya appeared safe enough .. and I wanted to understand a few things. At least that was my intention.
It took her a while to make her way from the fire to the steps. Even longer to settle on them. As she did she asked me how I was and I chuckled and told her .. better than she ... obviously. I reached for her hand .. just a finger beneath it to lift it more by will than pressure. As I examined the bruising I asked her if it was worth it. That smile that spread over her lips answered me even if her words had not confirmed it ... she said it was totally worth it. I had to chuckle. I told her how put salve on it and elevate it .. I told her I would have advised her to elevate other parts but I would have been accused of some perverted flirtation.
Which .. in my case ... was true.
We spoke of wagers and landings and whether or not she would be trying it again any time soon. We spoke of courage. I found her words interesting ... she has a lot of courage in some things ... not so much in others. It intrigues me ... to watch her develop it. Her balance of courage is different than most women's.
We spoke of the difference between courage and a death wish. We spoke of challenges and adrenaline ... of honor and word ... we spoke of responsibilities and reasons to avoid challenges. At what point our testing of courage became a death wish and where the line of our responsibilities reined that in to preserve our lives. Of the line between and what rested on each side of that line and why. She spoke then of a third place and I was just asking her what she meant.
Silken arrived scratching herself all over .. her arms and shoulders bore the red welts of her nails all ready and she was digging for more. Having been lulled into a false sense of security by the easy conversation with Seveya I attempted to draw Silken in as well .. crash and burn there. Even Seveya tried to talk to her .. not sure how that went I got called aside to deal with an altercation with a few rowdy Kataii who had decided that Tuchuk bosk were good for a few wagers.
By the time I got back Silken had been gone for some time and I returned to sit on the steps and tried to remember where we were at in the conversation .. I asked Seveya where Silken went and she gestured towards the bathing wagons. I had to chuckle and I told her that was probably a good idea from what I had seen. Seveya agreed and added in what she had heard as well. Perhaps Silken would be in a better mood when she got out .. a good enough mood to actually talk to me.
I asked Seveya if she meant some place between the two extremes we were speaking of .. a middle ground. She said no .. she meant a place that was more aside .. not part of either. I had misunderstood her so I asked her to explain it to me.
She told me she could only give me her experience as an example of what she was attempting to explain to me. She described to me a place she had been in after her mother's death .. a gray place where there was only action and very little input from emotion. Routine .. motions ... things that kept her alive but did nothing to further her knowledge and learning of the world around her.
The place she spoke of was familiar to me. A little different .. all right perhaps in a few ways a lot different but she did not need to know that because in the ways that were important .. the ways that she was speaking of ... the place was much the same. I simply referred to it as the desert. A time and place of nothing. Lack of emotion .. a particular apathy for me. But unlike Seveya I continued to learn and grow. Perhaps my gray .. or desert ... was easier to adapt to. Less sadness. More anger. There was more there .. in my thoughts but I had no words for them.
She asked me if I knew others .. if they had places like that. I told her I did not know .. but I guessed everyone did to a certain extent. I told her she was the first one to ever speak to me of it. I also told her it was .. twofold for me. This desert.
I did not get a chance to explain this .. "twofold" ... aspect because she asked me strait up if I had gone to a place like that .. the desert ... the day that the teasing had begun at the fires about Asria being pregnant. The question was too close and unexpected .. I was instantly suspicious and aggressive. I asked her why she asked me that .. why she would ask me that. She remained calm and explained to me she watched me disconnect and walk away. Observant little Tuchuk. Most people miss or disregard the disconnect. I even tried to catch the thought for her .. but every time I was sure I had my hands on it .. it would slip through my fingers. I asked her to explain what she meant .. again. To ask me again. Perhaps if she said it .. voiced it ... put words to it while I was trying to catch it ... I might just get my fist around it. Whether or not she knew what I needed .. whether or not she understood why she had to repeat herself ... she did so and with greater detail. Enough that I was able to settle into the thought rather firmly .. separating the anger from the words .. sedating the emotions contained within so that I could use the scalpel and open them up a little for her to see their machinations.
I spoke of the humor .. the teasing people found in my uncomfortableness with the entire process. That they assumed that it was about the .. mess. It was the best word I could find at the time though .. I was still unsatisfied with it. But .. I told her ... that was not all it was. There was some of that .. for me. The simple mystery of it all ... that I wanted to stay a mystery. Things I did not feel an attachment to and I did not want to know. Felt no need to know. Felt rather strongly about not knowing. But there was more to it .. than that.
I never did get to tell her .. what "more than that" was. She spoke to me of her own feelings. Of how she did not want to know the details of other women's experiences. It was hard for her. I asked her strait up if she was afraid. She said no .. she did not feel afraid of it but that ... she wanted to have those experiences for herself. She wanted to feel them without it being tainted by others experiences. I asked her where she was when her mother died .. she told me. By now she was starting to tense .. starting to feel defensive ... my questions were like lance attacks .. swift and sharp ... and direct. I could feel her bleeding .. even as I delivered them. But they were the kind of cuts that were well placed .. and the weapon was sharp and clean. The wounds I gave would heal quickly .. not so much the reason I gave them. Though I think Seveya has dealt with hers much better than I. Our circumstances .. our experience with the same kind of event are from different perspectives. She reminded me she was her mother's daughter ... not her mother. I am not sure if that was more for me or more of a reminder to herself. I asked her if she was "afraid to die .. like that."
"To die bringing life?" She seemed to think on the question for a little while before she continued. "I feel an instinct.. with this. A very strong protective.. instinct.. to do what I must.. anything.. I can.. if it meant bringing life. I do not know this fear though. I haven't.. been there.. or been faced with it.. the possibility.. to know it."
"How is it .. worth it?" I had not asked her that. I asked the Sky .. the air around us ... the steps we sat on ... anything ... but she assumed I asked her of course and answered.
"Continuation.. life.. legacy.. Each of us .. is like a tapestry.. bearing the threads of our ancestors. We apply these threads.. but add our own.. continuing to evolve that tapestry.. enlightening and discovering, enriching it.. in preparation of the next generation."
To such a generic question .. I suppose a generic answer may apply. It did not touch me. It did not reach through the offal and bile to grasp hold that which could not feel brave and give any comfort. The loss was too big and too grave a thing. Even more now. I was not needed to ensure the continuation of the Tuchuk. There were generations happening without me. Was one tiny thread so important to the whole? No .. we live a life where death is all around and happening all the time and all the other threads compact and make up for the lost ones. I had no doubt of that .. that my thread ... my legacy was mine and I knew the Tribe did not depend on it. "Life" in general did not depend on it.
I had cradled my head in my hands .. I said something about not being brave ... I do not remember what I mumbled. She asked me about it though ... and I had to concentrate on what I had said and what I meant ... just to attempt to make it more clear to her. She asked me if I was unsure if I wanted a legacy .. or if I was not sure about being brave enough to have one. I told her .. "I have never wanted anything more than my own legacy." But then I had to recant that. I had to tell her the truth.
"That is not exactly true .. there is one thing that I have wanted .. and it was the strongest thing I have ever tasted .. the most driving and all consuming thing I have ever felt the need for...." I wandered off and must have gotten lost in my own thoughts because she startled me when she asked me if I wanted to tell her what that was. My answer was simple .. "Revenge." But confession is not good for my soul .. it makes me feel vulnerable and exposed ... I attempted to sweep the subject aside by returning to the point ... "Legacy .. my own is very ... very important to me."
But she wished to know more about this vengeance. She asked me if I felt close to it .. I told her always. She asked me if I felt like there was something left to avenge .. I told her ... always. She asked me if it was like the stubborn part .. the thing that always helped me get things done despite other variables that attempted to interrupt. I told her .. no. It was the opposite. I even leaned towards her as I spoke .. I wanted her to understand this part ... this integral part of me. "Revenge is the strongest most compelling thing I have ever felt and it is not rational. It is not logical. It eats everything alive and taints it .. but I must love it and admire it for its strength. For what it can accomplish through me. In my dreams ... love is like that."
"I do not think I will ever understand something like love.. not fully. It seems so.. .. so ungraspable.. at least its full concept. It seems like a stream to me."
I .. myself ... could not believe that. I told her .. "I believe it is as powerful and impacting and unstoppable. And I believe I can know it .. as well as I know the other." I had dipped my hand into the most powerful force I knew of .. I had reined it .. used it. I had held that strength and purpose in my fist and I believed that I could with love as well.
At least .. that I had the capability.
Not so sure .. if I will have the opportunity.
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