[ Centuries ago. This is one of those things that made Nayeshi a comparable paradise, he thinks. The way women could live their lives there had been shocking to someone like him, at first, but it was a good thing. Even then, from what he vaguely understood it was still an issue of geography. Nayeshi was so, so much bigger than Basawar, only the city of Nurjima could compare. Many different kinds of people were forced to live next to each other, and those differences were more tolerated in the city, but not always.
Condemned. He's curious about her religion, their beliefs, but he doesn't push for more details than she gives right now. She'd mentioned a man that she knows here who is religious, maybe he would be better to ask, sometime. It's pure curiosity.
It's much easier for him to speak about his own religion. Not to everyone. Despite his fervor, he's never been a preacher. And there's danger in speaking too much about these things. With her, though, he feels comfortable explaining. And secretly, he's pleased that she wants to hear more. ]
After Parfir created the world, an empire of demons arose. He used what little was left of his body to create the first Rifter, who slaughtered them all. [ He runs his finger in a rough line across the dirt. ] But Parfir created the Rifter too well. She was too powerful and his body shook as she walked across the land. [ He draws a circle, a line split through it. ] My people, my church came forth from the first holy man who found a way to calm the Rifter with a poison. In the stories he's the one who cuts off her leg while she's sleeping. He uses her thigh bone to bleed her, until she cannot fight. And then he opens her death with a key.
[ He glances up at the black marble statue. ]
The Rifter is always reborn. We take the sacred bone and guard it, until the next Rifter is found by the oracles. [ The Issusha'im. In his mind is a tapestry of bones held together with copper wire. They look like adult versions of Rousma. ] There is always someone chosen, a Kahlil, who is bound to the Rifter and sent to watch over them - in another world. In their mortal life they do not know themselves, though their power may surface in small ways...
[ He remembers the way the earth seemed to call to John.
Kahlil glances back to Wanda, brow furrowed. This is a lot of talking he's doing, and he searches her face, wondering if he's boring her. ]
I was bound to the Rifter when he was only a boy, and I watched over him for a decade.
no subject
Condemned. He's curious about her religion, their beliefs, but he doesn't push for more details than she gives right now. She'd mentioned a man that she knows here who is religious, maybe he would be better to ask, sometime. It's pure curiosity.
It's much easier for him to speak about his own religion. Not to everyone. Despite his fervor, he's never been a preacher. And there's danger in speaking too much about these things. With her, though, he feels comfortable explaining. And secretly, he's pleased that she wants to hear more. ]
After Parfir created the world, an empire of demons arose. He used what little was left of his body to create the first Rifter, who slaughtered them all. [ He runs his finger in a rough line across the dirt. ] But Parfir created the Rifter too well. She was too powerful and his body shook as she walked across the land. [ He draws a circle, a line split through it. ] My people, my church came forth from the first holy man who found a way to calm the Rifter with a poison. In the stories he's the one who cuts off her leg while she's sleeping. He uses her thigh bone to bleed her, until she cannot fight. And then he opens her death with a key.
[ He glances up at the black marble statue. ]
The Rifter is always reborn. We take the sacred bone and guard it, until the next Rifter is found by the oracles. [ The Issusha'im. In his mind is a tapestry of bones held together with copper wire. They look like adult versions of Rousma. ] There is always someone chosen, a Kahlil, who is bound to the Rifter and sent to watch over them - in another world. In their mortal life they do not know themselves, though their power may surface in small ways...
[ He remembers the way the earth seemed to call to John.
Kahlil glances back to Wanda, brow furrowed. This is a lot of talking he's doing, and he searches her face, wondering if he's boring her. ]
I was bound to the Rifter when he was only a boy, and I watched over him for a decade.