A Land Far Away

He stood in Teshmere, under Qilla's old treehouse, and preached to the few gathered there. He had no idea why they came. Perhaps they were curious about this strange foreigner who milked his cow in full plate armor, barked orders to good Daggerdale militia, and played with the sick children, giving them rides on his disappearing, reappearing horse.

Perhaps a few had heard rumors of his bravery and skill. Perhaps a few more had heard rumors of his simplemindedness--how he stood naked in Hadreth's Glen begging a blackskinned woman to throw eggs at him.

Anyway, they were curious. That was enough.

He leaned against the tree.

"I am thinking today of childhood. For I have spent much time recently with children. And I wonder what it means to be a child. And what the thought of childhood offers to those who walk a righteous path."

He cleared his throat, then rubbed his beard. Teia wished him to shave, he knew, but the beard had become a useful prop. A way to delay before speaking.

"For my people, a child is like a planted garden--to be guarded and tended, yes--but also to be burned away without regret if it bears no fruit. This is how I knew childhood: the time before a man could be put to good use. When one could be put to use, then childhood was over. This was the difference between boy and man."

He touched his holy symbol and glanced westward. "For the lion, it is similar, I think. The cub is protected, but not coddled. She must become a hunter quickly, or she will go unfed. When she can hunt, she is no longer a cub."


He smiled, seeming to reminisce a moment. "Ah, but those are only two ways, and perhaps they are not the best ways. I tell you today of seven children whose stories will perhaps bring wisdom upon us this day."

He held up a finger.

"The first is a seer child--one who can point the way to things lost. I quarreled with a dear friend over this child, for I wished to put her gift to use, and my friend found this barbaric. The girl dreamed of the vampires which plague this land, and so assisted us in finding them."

He held up a second finger.

"The second is a young girl whose mind was overcome by the blood-drinkers. She walked at dusk in the forest, her will not her own. We followed her far to the north and west, to a ruined temple, and watched in horror as she lay herself out on a stone slab, passively awaiting her fate, like a virgin on her wedding night.

Fiercely was she protected, but also was she used, for she had led us to the place where the vampires feed."


He held up a third finger.

"The third child is not truly a child at all. She is a pale, dark-haired, tiny figure. Playful in her voice, but deadly in her power: A mockery of childhood. She is vampire, taken at a young age--eternally pure in appearance, eternally corrupt in nature, like the flower of the poison cactus. I smote her, but not with the finality required. To my shame, she will yet plague this land, for she is used by those who made her, toward their unspeakable ends."

He held up the next two fingers on his right hand, in quick succession.

"There is a fourth child, and a there is a fifth. Boy and girl. The vampires used them for food, keeping them them in cages as the merchants of the Glen keep their chickens. When we found them, they were pale and emaciated and heavy with fear. We saved them, though the vampires we fought escaped to threaten us further."

He scowled a moment, then continued.

"Slowly, I nursed them to health. I saw the light return first to the girl's brown eyes, then to the boy's green ones. I knew their names. I knew the boy's love of horses, and the girl's love of fishing. I helped to make them whole again."

He paused, allowing his eyes to flash to the Freedom Rider's outpost, where he tucked the children in each night.

"And I used them. Yes. I used them. I used them as the horse uses the blinders. Though I made healing of their bodies and spirits, my ministry kept me from confronting certain truths, certain people, certain dangers. They allowed me to redeem myself of certain mistakes. They gave me time for my own wounds to heal. It was not a shameful use. But it was use."

He counted now on his left hand, touching right finger to left, growing suddenly quiet.

"There is a sixth child, though truly she is a woman now. My sister, Fatima, whom I have not seen since she was a girl. I weep to think of the many ways she has likely been used in that accursed desert, but she is still an innocent child to my memory. Even so, the very memory of her has been used. I have used it, myself, to keep love at bay, to keep happiness at arm's length, until I am able to deserve it."

He paused a moment, then spoke clearly, loudly, as if reciting.

"From the moment they are conceived, children serve a purpose, have a use, even if they cannot yet fight, or hunt, or plow.

Some purposes are misguided, as when I wished to use the seer child, or when the unborn are dragged into battles of pride and entitlement.

Some purposes are noble, as when foundling babies bring together estranged friends or feuding couples in common purpose.

Or when a babe turns a broken man toward goodness and creates understanding between opposing points of view."


He paced a little now, allowing a question to form on his face.

"So if children can be put to use, then my people are wrong. As usual."


He smiled, shaking his head. "And so we are back to my question. What is childhood? What is the difference between the adult and the child, if it is not usefulness, if it is not purpose?"

He came close to the gathered few and sat in front of them, speaking conversationally now.

"The difference is that the adult can more often choose his own purpose than the child."

He held up one hand: "The child is useful." He held up his other hand. "The adult is useful."

He pointed at them. "But the child relies on the mercy of those around him to choose his purpose, while the adult has responsibility to choose her own."

He leaned sideways, onto his shoulder. "And so I ask today who among us is truly an adult, and who is still a child? Who here has chosen his purpose? And who here has instead had his purpose yoked upon him?"

He looked directly at each person, in turn, before asking: "What is your purpose? Perhaps it is simply to raise your children well, and to refrain from using them selfishly, giving them the strength to choose their own purpose when their time has come.

Perhaps your purpose is to live in devotion to your god. Perhaps your purpose is to work hard, or to craft well.

Whatever your purpose, I pray it is noble. I pray it is just. And I pray it is a purpose freely chosen. If it is not, then the seventh child is you."


He stood again, walking toward the tree, his back turned to them momentarily. "When I came of age, I chose to deny the duty set before me by my people. In so doing, I lost all. But in making the choice, I became an adult, and could find my own purpose."

He turned back to them.

"And, blessed be, I found my purpose in Lord Firemane, Malar's Bane, who offers chastening to the great and succor to the small.

It is a purpose freely chosen, not once, but many times over, each hour, each day.

Though sometimes I falter, my path remains clear. My chosen purpose is to confront evil in Nobanion's name, and to protect my tribe at every cost."

He smiled.

"And that is exactly what I will do. Elohim. Elohim."

Nice work Ak-AK!