75th of Ashan, 718
Ne’haer was quite a sight to behold at any time with its beaming white stone, blasting up out of the ground like Idalos itself was reaching up from below. In the warmth of Ashan the streets were packed. It was on this beautiful day that Han had gone inquiring at the employment offices, less looking for paying work and moreso trying to probe what needed to be done around the city. He did this fairly regularly, and it had led him to more than one promising opportunity to assist those in need. He was directed, this trial, to head to the Temple of The All God and seek after Ramik Olvash, the head priest. He oversaw the incoming slaves that were brought to Ne’haer, housing and educating them in the temple itself- something Han was very keen to learn about.
As Han made his way through the brilliant streets, he became consumed in his thoughts. Every trial, people of all sorts of races, creeds, and professions filled the highways and byways of the seaside city. More than once, Han had looked on in observation and equated it to the beating of a heart, to the flowing of blood through a body- for was that not what they were? Each soul was one small part of the lifeblood of Ne’haer, just as Ne’haer was one small part of the lifeblood of Idalos. Some said the ground itself was alive, that the very continents they walked on had spirits of their own. Whether it was true or not, who could say. But it seemed to Han that the world was more a skeleton, and its inhabitants the meat and organs and blood and soul. All striving together to live and love, even if not cognizant of the greater realities. No one man ever could grasp the full scope of his place in the world, or of anyone elses, really. And that was just the thing- the world itself was too big. In many ways, the continued existence of life relied so, so heavily on each individual. But yet, the larger whole was more significant- to look at, at least. In that lied the tragedy that would follow all peoples forever, anywhere more than a few were gathered- suffering was too easy to overlook.
In much the same way as one might get a small bruise or a cut and shrug it off, a city of a few hundred thousand or more could easily abide the abuse of a few. Orphans turned urchins, good men rendered homeless beggars, widows who lost their husbands to senseless violence in the territories, slaves, all common problems in most places. Usually left untouched, save for a precious few who might try to alleviate some small amount of suffering here and there, like he had heard those at the temple did in Ne’haer, working with freed slaves. But Han couldn’t help but feel it would never be enough. He had been around the western continent as a boy, passing from one caravan to the next, and he had seen what unchecked pain could do to even the finest of souls. Those urchins would grow up someday, those beggars would have enough of their plight, those slaves would come to crave vengeance. Pirates, bandits, killers, rebels, thieves. Society at large seemed only to care about the less fortunate when it cost them lives and money, and when it finally deigned to pay attention, it was always with fire or noose or steel.
These thoughts plagued him often- discouraged him greatly. His revelations about these things were much of what had made him the man he was. He desired no position as he did not want to be lifted too high to see those below. He sought common work to keep close in proximity to those he could truly help. He never turned away from an opportunity to give someone a place to stay, or something to eat, even if it cost him. He had elected to become what he perceived to be the smallest, but most important part of society- the neighbor. The nameless citizen who does all he can for those in need, who strives to keep hope alive in those who he finds. Who wishes to prevent killers and madmen from ever having to exist in the first place.
Yet, he knew he was not effective most of the time. He was only one man, and he could only do so much. Even then, you had to deal with the cold fact that some people were beyond help and others were too proud to accept it. Many more were so used to cruelty or neglect that they would simply assume ulterior motives when you tried to befriend them. It was hard, inconvenient work, and more often than not you got either no thanks at all, or you got threats. There were many days that Han regretted his commitment to seeking the good of the lowly. Many days that he wished he had chosen to instead seek a profession that didn’t put him out in the woods every week, didn’t leave him tired and dirty, paid well and had prestige.
But then he would think of the few who had truly changed. The children who didn’t starve. The slaves who became great citizens. The sick who had gotten help. The homeless who were homeless no longer. When he thought of them, he knew he couldn’t stop- and he probably never would. For all the darkness he saw in himself, they were his lights. His friends and those he had helped and who had let him love them- they pressed back harder against his baser instincts and dark urges- though more often than not, it was in helping them that he had come to truly face those things. When working with those who had suffered great misfortune or injustice at the hands of another, it wasn’t uncommon for Han to lose sleep- fighting his own blind rage and lust to kill and make suffer those who had caused such harm. To steal back what had been stolen, to take an eye for an eye. But he knew, and was often reminded, that vengeance accomplished nothing but perpetuating the cycle. He was a product of that truth, after all. Perhaps if he’d had the chance to overcome the evil of his parents himself, he wouldn’t have been left with such a void in him. He often pondered such things.
It was in these moments, these depths of thought, introspection, and general discouragement at the unyielding problems he faced in his quest, that Han often entertained the possibility of expanding, so to speak. He had no desire to get lost in city politics- leave that to the lords and ladies who have more nel than they know how to spend. Han was interested in building something that would work. He knew thus far of several promising leads- The Seventh Hand included the hand of the spun thread- they regularly gave things like blankets and clothing to the poor and homeless. This Olvash he was going to see was another promising possibility. There was also the man who had supposedly revitalized an entire section of the city overnight with his nel investments- that was exactly the kind of spirit that would be needed.
Of course, it was all just speculation and theory at this point. And it would take a lot more than some blankets, a priest, some money, and a hunter to truly alleviate the plight of the less fortunate. They would need orphanages, they would need to build homes, they would need food, and jobs. He knew that the seed of an idea in his head had the potential to someday become great. But he also knew that he must tread lightly, lest his own ambition consume him. But still, with the right tempering and the right alliances, he knew he could do more good with many than with only one.
Emerging from his auto-pilot like journey through the city, Han cast his eyes on the majestic structure that stood now before him- The Temple of The All God. Han wasn’t a particularly religious man himself- He knew that the Immortals were very real, of course. But felt no compulsion to ally himself with any of them in a zealous fashion as some did. He was fond of some- Ralaith mainly- and recognized the danger in others- like Faldrun. But regardless of any affiliations, he had to appreciate the action that they inspired in so many. The priests of the temple now before him were doing their part to alleviate the suffering of those who had lived their lives in bondage. He didn’t care what Immortal they loved, if their Immortal inspired them to do that.
As he entered the temple, he quickly spotted a nearby priest and approached him. “Hail, friend. My name is Han Hetra, and I’m seeking after one Ramik Olvash in regards to helping with the freed slaves.” After a short discourse and a walk through the temple, Han was led and introduced to the man himself, and the two began to walk through the temple together.
“Here, we house, feed, and educate. The slaves brought here are emancipated- set free- given a temporary home, and moved along a path to citizenship. Officials are assigned to assist them in this endeavor, as well as making sure they adjust well to their new lives- the transition can often be quite difficult, traumatic even. We seek to alleviate that as much as we can, so that these people can truly move on.”
Han nodded in response, looking on at some of the very people they were discussing. There were all kinds- Humans, Biqaj, even a few Tunawa. Some looked healthy and happy, but others looked weak and weary. Probably the newer arrivals. Han imagined how the transition really must be as difficult as Ramik had said. Continuing to walk with the priest, Han spoke. “They’re leaving behind a life that revolved all around their masters- what they desired and how they lived- and becoming their own masters. Learning to be your own person, to have your own thoughts and desires and actions, I can’t imagine the difficulty.” Finally coming to a stop, Han turned to face the man and continued. “To be plain with you, I’m not here seeking paying work, per se. I’m more interested in simply learning how I can be of help to people like this. I want to grow in my understanding and in my usefulness. If you would be willing to teach me, or let me take part, perhaps, I would be grateful.”
Ramik smiled at him and spoke. “I think we can work something out that would be mutually beneficial. Come with me.”
That was the beginning of Han’s relationship with the Temple of The All God and the slaves therein. Han didn’t know then, but he had just begun one of the most significant chapters of his life.
