Trial 83
Han had spent what was starting to feel like an eternity going back and forth and back and forth between all the different sections of the temple. These people needed water, these needed more food, this man needed help getting on his feet, this woman was ill and needed help getting cleaned up. He was grateful for the opportunity to serve and be of use, even if he was just an errand boy, but man was it exhausting. The work never seemed to end at this place, between the pilgrims and worshipers using the temple for spiritual purposes, the education and various kinds of training taking place on the grounds, and the former slaves that called it a temporary home, during the trial it was busier than a bee hive. But all the same, he loved it and was glad for the opportunity to be a help. He knew they could use as much help as they could get their hands on and he was happy to oblige.
It was his first trial really working at the temple, after having come and met with the head priest, Ramik Olvash, several trials prior. At that time it had been relatively calm in comparison- a false impression if ever there was one. Yet, he had seen all he needed to see to be convinced that he ought to be here. These men, women, and children, with their scant possessions and broken spirits. It made Han feel a great mixture of emotion to look upon them, even more so to speak with them. First came a sharp tinge of empathized pain- looking at someone who’d spent their whole existence in subjugation, Han could very much feel the brokenness. These people would have to learn how to exist as their own people now, and it would be, in some ways, more difficult than anything they’d done before. Next came tearful joy, a true gladness to see that sometimes- sometimes, justice does win out in the lives of a few. Finally, anger arrived. Not a loud, boisterous anger, but a black, seething mass of ill intent and malice. Intertwined with the black anger was a deep, primal longing for justice. It was just that these people made it here, yes. But it wasn’t enough, Han thought. Real justice would see their oppressors crushed and ruined. Not so long ago, he would have wrestled hard with the thought, but this time, just this once, he let it go. As the still fresh memory of his lost battle with himself three trials prior rose to greet him, he simply accepted it. It wasn’t a capitulation to the dark, but it wasn’t an outright denial either. Regardless, for now he would do what he could, and that was helping these people before him.
“One for you, and one for you, and..” His job at the moment- one of several, anyways- was to help pass out cups of water after the meal that had just concluded. As he finished with what he was carrying and prepared to go perform yet another menial but necessary task, something caught his eye. A little girl stood at one of the shrines, alone. It wasn’t all that unusual, really, but something about it grabbed Han’s attention. As he approached, he recognized the shrine; Karem, Immortal of the hunt. He of all people ought to know. But to see a lone, small child taken with it was more unusual. He approached softly but conspicuously, wanting her to know he was there but not to worry. He’d already seen more than a few former slaves that spooked quite easily. She turned and gave him a short glance, revealing that half of her face was warped from burn scars, though largely shrouded by her long, black hair. Still, she gave a gentle smile, and Han, his heart filled simultaneously with anger and sorrow, returned the gesture as best he could, doing all he could manage to stay composed.
“Lord of the hunt.” Han said, giving a slight nod to the shrine before them. He hoped talking a bit would do him some good and help her feel comfortable at the same time. As he spoke, he knelt down to be at eye level with her. “What do you know about that, little one?” He asked, half out of curiosity and half just to have something to say.
“The one who killed the bad men told me to remember Karem when I got here. He told me to make an offering because they hunted the bad men.” As she spoke, she placed a lock of hair on the offering plate resting at the base of the shrine. “It was mothers. I don’t have any money so I should give what I do have, right?” She looked to Han, tears welling up in her eyes, her expression beginning to break at even the mention of her mother. Her story told itself without any words even being necessary to explain.
“Yes.” Han said, his voice cracking ever so slightly as his eyes began to gloss over and redden as he blinked away tears, inhaling sharply through his nose and forcing a stony expression just so he didn’t crumble in the moment. “Yes, that’s very good of you.” He reached out to place his hand on her shoulder, but she immediately rushed forward and put her arms around his neck, beginning to sob uncontrollably. There were no more words after that, and they stayed there for several more bits, her crying into his shoulder as he did everything he could not to break down himself.
‘This is what happens when we don’t take matters into our own hands. This girl might still have a mother, might still have a good life. What good did your charity do when she was set aflame and her parents were butchered? This hunter of Karem did what we ought to be doing. Remember that.’
He let the thought go unanswered. He knew it was true, but he wouldn’t admit it. Even as the pain and rage consumed him, he couldn’t admit it. He had to keep fighting. Had to. The rest of the trial passed like a blur. After she was more composed, he’d taken the girl to be with one of the priests. Hadn’t even thought to ask her name. He went about his duties and finished the trial, but his mind and heart were no longer there. He was far away now, thinking only of how many more little boys and girls were suffering like this one had. How many more people were slaves? How many more people languished, either under criminal ownership or the irresponsibility of their own guardians, like he had? He was filled to the brim with sadness and anger and conviction. It had been a very long time since he had felt this way, since he had really entertained the desire to do something violent. For a while, he thought he’d finally overcome that part of his life. Yet here it was again. Could he ever be free of it as long as he put himself in the path of people who suffered like this? Was his return inevitable? He didn’t want to believe it, but he had felt the slide this entire season, and it was only getting worse. If something didn’t change, it was only a matter of time. But that was the rub- he didn’t know if he wanted something to change anymore.
At the end of it all, he found himself standing there, before the shrine to Karem. A hunter had set that little girl free. A hunter, his own profession. He had never considered before that there could be more to the hunt than wild animals. But here he was, entertaining the sorts of thoughts he never thought he’d be entertaining. The hunt, taking on a whole new meaning in his mind as bits and pieces of a once broken psyche started to reassemble. It was frightening, exhilarating, and satisfying all at once. He placed a nel in the offering plate. “It’s all I can give right now, Karem. But there will be more. Thank you for helping that little girl. I won’t forget it. Ever. Please, help me to do the same when the time comes.” With that, he turned and walked away, quickly finding his way to the only shrine he had ever truly spent time at before: Ralaith. He knelt down and began to half-converse, half-pray.
“Ralaith, you are the Lord of wisdom, and the Lord of all that is bitter. Two things that have truly characterized my life. I ask for wisdom now, help me to navigate these stormy times. I have this…. Unrelenting desire to take the lives of those who make others suffer… Who make others into people like me. I have fought for so long, but now….” A lone tear made its way down his face, disappearing into his beard. “But now I don’t know anymore. If I can save one life from the hell these people have lived in for so long, am I not obligated? I don’t know. Please, help me to know.” His prayer concluded, he wiped the tears from his eyes and placed a single nel in the offering plate.
He didn’t know what would come of the trials before him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. But one thing was certain- change was coming.
Han had spent what was starting to feel like an eternity going back and forth and back and forth between all the different sections of the temple. These people needed water, these needed more food, this man needed help getting on his feet, this woman was ill and needed help getting cleaned up. He was grateful for the opportunity to serve and be of use, even if he was just an errand boy, but man was it exhausting. The work never seemed to end at this place, between the pilgrims and worshipers using the temple for spiritual purposes, the education and various kinds of training taking place on the grounds, and the former slaves that called it a temporary home, during the trial it was busier than a bee hive. But all the same, he loved it and was glad for the opportunity to be a help. He knew they could use as much help as they could get their hands on and he was happy to oblige.
It was his first trial really working at the temple, after having come and met with the head priest, Ramik Olvash, several trials prior. At that time it had been relatively calm in comparison- a false impression if ever there was one. Yet, he had seen all he needed to see to be convinced that he ought to be here. These men, women, and children, with their scant possessions and broken spirits. It made Han feel a great mixture of emotion to look upon them, even more so to speak with them. First came a sharp tinge of empathized pain- looking at someone who’d spent their whole existence in subjugation, Han could very much feel the brokenness. These people would have to learn how to exist as their own people now, and it would be, in some ways, more difficult than anything they’d done before. Next came tearful joy, a true gladness to see that sometimes- sometimes, justice does win out in the lives of a few. Finally, anger arrived. Not a loud, boisterous anger, but a black, seething mass of ill intent and malice. Intertwined with the black anger was a deep, primal longing for justice. It was just that these people made it here, yes. But it wasn’t enough, Han thought. Real justice would see their oppressors crushed and ruined. Not so long ago, he would have wrestled hard with the thought, but this time, just this once, he let it go. As the still fresh memory of his lost battle with himself three trials prior rose to greet him, he simply accepted it. It wasn’t a capitulation to the dark, but it wasn’t an outright denial either. Regardless, for now he would do what he could, and that was helping these people before him.
“One for you, and one for you, and..” His job at the moment- one of several, anyways- was to help pass out cups of water after the meal that had just concluded. As he finished with what he was carrying and prepared to go perform yet another menial but necessary task, something caught his eye. A little girl stood at one of the shrines, alone. It wasn’t all that unusual, really, but something about it grabbed Han’s attention. As he approached, he recognized the shrine; Karem, Immortal of the hunt. He of all people ought to know. But to see a lone, small child taken with it was more unusual. He approached softly but conspicuously, wanting her to know he was there but not to worry. He’d already seen more than a few former slaves that spooked quite easily. She turned and gave him a short glance, revealing that half of her face was warped from burn scars, though largely shrouded by her long, black hair. Still, she gave a gentle smile, and Han, his heart filled simultaneously with anger and sorrow, returned the gesture as best he could, doing all he could manage to stay composed.
“Lord of the hunt.” Han said, giving a slight nod to the shrine before them. He hoped talking a bit would do him some good and help her feel comfortable at the same time. As he spoke, he knelt down to be at eye level with her. “What do you know about that, little one?” He asked, half out of curiosity and half just to have something to say.
“The one who killed the bad men told me to remember Karem when I got here. He told me to make an offering because they hunted the bad men.” As she spoke, she placed a lock of hair on the offering plate resting at the base of the shrine. “It was mothers. I don’t have any money so I should give what I do have, right?” She looked to Han, tears welling up in her eyes, her expression beginning to break at even the mention of her mother. Her story told itself without any words even being necessary to explain.
“Yes.” Han said, his voice cracking ever so slightly as his eyes began to gloss over and redden as he blinked away tears, inhaling sharply through his nose and forcing a stony expression just so he didn’t crumble in the moment. “Yes, that’s very good of you.” He reached out to place his hand on her shoulder, but she immediately rushed forward and put her arms around his neck, beginning to sob uncontrollably. There were no more words after that, and they stayed there for several more bits, her crying into his shoulder as he did everything he could not to break down himself.
‘This is what happens when we don’t take matters into our own hands. This girl might still have a mother, might still have a good life. What good did your charity do when she was set aflame and her parents were butchered? This hunter of Karem did what we ought to be doing. Remember that.’
He let the thought go unanswered. He knew it was true, but he wouldn’t admit it. Even as the pain and rage consumed him, he couldn’t admit it. He had to keep fighting. Had to. The rest of the trial passed like a blur. After she was more composed, he’d taken the girl to be with one of the priests. Hadn’t even thought to ask her name. He went about his duties and finished the trial, but his mind and heart were no longer there. He was far away now, thinking only of how many more little boys and girls were suffering like this one had. How many more people were slaves? How many more people languished, either under criminal ownership or the irresponsibility of their own guardians, like he had? He was filled to the brim with sadness and anger and conviction. It had been a very long time since he had felt this way, since he had really entertained the desire to do something violent. For a while, he thought he’d finally overcome that part of his life. Yet here it was again. Could he ever be free of it as long as he put himself in the path of people who suffered like this? Was his return inevitable? He didn’t want to believe it, but he had felt the slide this entire season, and it was only getting worse. If something didn’t change, it was only a matter of time. But that was the rub- he didn’t know if he wanted something to change anymore.
At the end of it all, he found himself standing there, before the shrine to Karem. A hunter had set that little girl free. A hunter, his own profession. He had never considered before that there could be more to the hunt than wild animals. But here he was, entertaining the sorts of thoughts he never thought he’d be entertaining. The hunt, taking on a whole new meaning in his mind as bits and pieces of a once broken psyche started to reassemble. It was frightening, exhilarating, and satisfying all at once. He placed a nel in the offering plate. “It’s all I can give right now, Karem. But there will be more. Thank you for helping that little girl. I won’t forget it. Ever. Please, help me to do the same when the time comes.” With that, he turned and walked away, quickly finding his way to the only shrine he had ever truly spent time at before: Ralaith. He knelt down and began to half-converse, half-pray.
“Ralaith, you are the Lord of wisdom, and the Lord of all that is bitter. Two things that have truly characterized my life. I ask for wisdom now, help me to navigate these stormy times. I have this…. Unrelenting desire to take the lives of those who make others suffer… Who make others into people like me. I have fought for so long, but now….” A lone tear made its way down his face, disappearing into his beard. “But now I don’t know anymore. If I can save one life from the hell these people have lived in for so long, am I not obligated? I don’t know. Please, help me to know.” His prayer concluded, he wiped the tears from his eyes and placed a single nel in the offering plate.
He didn’t know what would come of the trials before him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. But one thing was certain- change was coming.
