CHAPTER 2
Why does T'Chen hide from the mortal eyes of
skeptics and reveal Herself only to the mind's eye of the faithful? A test?
If so, the outcome is foregone.
If She showed Herself to all, would not all believe? Surely, She has this power! Some say She does show Herself to all, but
many do not see. But can anyone
overlook a God plainly revealed? No
eyelid is thick enough. All else would
pale and fade, as the stars give way to the glorious sun.
- Ivermik,
"In the Shadow of T'Chen"
"Father!"
Evoth's cry startled Sarwin out of the half-sleep into which he had drifted while studying applications for the student assistant position he was trying to fill. The work of a house-spouse is never done, he thought as he got up, his knee cracking audibly as he did so. He walked briskly to his son's bedroom door and peered into the darkness. The vertical shaft of light he let in from the hallway caught half his son's face. His big yellow eyes reflected back eerily, as if they were illuminated from the inside.
"What's the matter, Evoth? You're going to wake your sisters and brothers."
Sarwin wondered where Siverelle was. He wished she'd help a little more with the children. She knew how busy he was preparing for his impending time-trip. It was coming up so soon. And there was so much to prepare yet.
Year 5456. Month of Cartoth. Day five. Seventeenth
hour.
The date drifted through the nether regions of his mind, as it always did when he thought about the journey. With conscious effort, he pushed it aside.
"Another bad dream, son?" In the dimness, Sarwin could see his youngest child sit up in his bed.
"I think so." finally came
the trill answer.
Sarwin waved his hand over the wall switch and the light came up slowly. He stepped in, pulled one of Evoth's child-sized chairs up to his son's bed and perched on the its edge, not trusting his full weight upon it.
"What did you dream about?" he asked the boy.
"It was the Vartyiar," stammered the boy, peering past Sarwin, as if one of the hairy beasts might pop up from behind his father. "They were after me again. They wanted to drag me down to Scoggast with them."
Sarwin tried to hide the flush of anger that welled up within him. He was certainly not angry with his son. The boy was as innocent as they come. No, Sarwin's ire was with the church, as usual. The mandatory religious classes at his son's school taught its pupils all about the limitless love of T'Chen, as well as the savage wrath of the Vartyiar, who would drag any saurian soul to the icy depths of Scoggast, should they stray from the righteous path set forth by the Sacred Scrolls.
In his mind, Sarwin pictured the Vartyiar as they were commonly depicted; tall, rat-like mammals, with glowing blue eyes and matted, stinking coats of dark fur. They stood up on their hind legs like saurians, leaving their grotesque five-fingered paws free to seize the souls of the damned. Even Sarwin felt a twinge of revulsion at the image. He had to admit, the church chose its demons well. The fuzzy hide of a mammal repulsed most saurians. But in reality, no mammal grew so large that it could not be held in his hand, if he ever had the nerve to do it. The idea of a mammal as tall as himself made Sarwin's leathery skin crawl.
"The Vartyiar aren't real, Evoth," he told his son, "They're just made up to scare young children into being good."
"Well they do a good job."
Sarwin smiled slightly at his son's unintentional wisecrack. He reached out and stroked the boy's smooth, green scalp. Although he was somewhat ashamed to admit it, he was happy that the boy had inherited his mother's Priat skin. It would open up many doors for him. "Evoth... you're too young yet to understand these things. Don't worry, someday you'll be old enough to understand and you won't be afraid anymore."
"But what about now? I'm afraid now!"
Again, Sarwin smiled slightly at the boy's chance wittiness.
"Now..." he answered his son, "For now, I will protect you from them. But you must learn someday, Evoth, that reason and wisdom can overcome fear and ignorance. There are many in the World who would use the fear and ignorance of little boys like you to their own advantage... to try to shape you into their image... one that is governed by fear and ignorance. I won't let them do that to you, I promise."
Evoth just looked at his father blankly. The boy didn't really understand what Sarwin was saying to him. He was too young yet. Sarwin was probably talking more to himself than to the child, anyway.
"Can you read me a story?" the boy finally asked.
"Um, sure... I suppose I can," answered Sarwin, though he wished he could somehow avoid it. It was already quite late and he still had so much work left to do.
"I think it's your mother's turn to read to you tonight, Evoth," came a comforting female voice from behind.
Sarwin turned around to see his wife, Siverelle, standing in the doorway. She was holding one of Evoth's favorite books. Sarwin was always amazed how she could seem to read his mind. "Your father has a lot of work to do anyway," she continued.
Evoth just smiled. He was happy to have company and he didn't care much who it was. As long as it wasn't the Vartyiar.
Sarwin stood up, nuzzled his wife and whispered "Thanks."
Siverelle just smiled and gestured with her head toward the door. "Get back to work, you big lug. You can't read a good story anyway... always ruining them by explaining that boys can't really fly and stuff like that... physics and bedtime stories don't mix."
Sarwin could tell by his son's smile that he was taking his mother's side. "Okay, you two, I know when I'm outdone," he quipped, and left the room.
He made his way back to his office, grinning all the way. Siverelle was the best wife he could have asked for. He couldn't believe how fortunate he was. Few saurian females helped at all with raising children. He sat down at his desk and looked at their framed wedding photo that sat perched on one end. She was as beautiful now as the day he first set eyes upon her.
Although the rational side of his brain insisted he continue his work, the romantic side of his mind slammed the door on it. He drifted back, over the years, to when they had first met. It was the night of his graduation from the Kreslar Academy, when he gave his valedictorian address before the assembly.
Such a stir it had caused when it was announced a male from the Ordinary caste would be Foremost! He remembered the great cacophony of catcalls, but a few resolute cheers among them, that greeted him at the dais. An occasional rude missile hurled his way from the throng, but they fell mercifully short of their target.
Sarwin remembered feeling trapped that night; trapped between the disapproving glares of the Priat deans at his back and the fist fights that broke out in the masses before him, as his many detractors and few supporters vied for the attention of the media. Banners unfurled and flapped in the humid night air. A few praised him, but most condemned. He could see sporadic bonfires flickering in the distance and frenzied silhouettes dashing amongst them.
Sarwin remembered how he was waiting for a break in the discord to start his speech when he had first noticed her. She was in one of the closer balconies, with other Priat debutants, though she stood out from among them like a bloom amid bramble. She was watching him intensely, with a look that was both curious and oddly sensual. He recalled how her skin, as emerald as any of her class, looked much silkier than the more traditional-looking sisters that hemmed about her.
But it was her eyes that caught him most. They were not just the pale yellow typical to most saurians. There was a deep jade hue that helped to soften the otherwise sharp features of her race. In those eyes he saw reflected the distant flickering flames. ...and perhaps the flames of my own heart, he mused whimsically.
He had taken strength from her incessant, empathetic gaze. It fed his confidence and buttressed his resolve. Though it seemed the whole of the World railed against him that long ago night, the sight of this resplendent lady extending her heart, by way of her eyes, made him feel invincible.
Sarwin spoke then and the words he had composed with unsteady hands in the preceding weeks became transformed. His tongue turned to flame and he spoke with brazen fervor. The dignity of his syntax, which he had so carefully penned to appease the snobbish intellect of the deans, was underlined with ardor and punctuated with passion.
Such an affect his address had upon the masses that even the most vocal of his opponents had fallen silent by the end of his third verse. By the time he had finished, he had all but won their respect, if not their hearts. Sarwin sighed to himself. Well... most of them, anyway.
Yet, the only heart it pleased him to touch on that distant evening was Siverelle's, whose beauty had drawn out his soul. Immediately after his speech, he had arranged to meet her. He would not have had been able to do so earlier, but he wasted no time exploiting his newfound influence.
Sarwin smiled mischievously to himself as he recalled that night. It was the most favorite night of his life. He departed early from the reception given in his honor to meet with her and they stole away together to the countryside, to a seldom used vacation house belonging to Siverelle’s influential mother, the senator Ampharix.
They spent all three days of the weekend together there, disentangling themselves only as necessity required. If she had captured his heart the night of his speech, she had surely won his soul during those dreamy days in the countryside.
Thereafter, they saw each other as often as they could, taking pains to keep their affair from the eyes of the World. But this proved no small task. His star was rising in the public eye and she was born into it by default. As is often so with forbidden love, they were soon found out; betrayed by the blindness of their own joy and the carelessness that attends it.
The media condemned them, as it usually did when transgressions between the classes became known. The scandal was hard on them both, but especially to Siverelle, as she had heretofore lived a pampered life of seclusion. But Sarwin was used to public ridicule and in fact he found it somewhat enjoyable, though he was ashamed of this and never admitted it to Siverelle. That the World saw he could claim a Priat woman as his own gave him a curious feeling of vindication. Wealthy Priat matrons sometimes took Ordinary males as concubines. Although such behavior was officially forbidden, many saurians looked the other way, or winked impishly, when the tabloids dragged such things into the light. But many already vilified Sarwin, and Siverelle was the daughter of a powerful senator.
Ampharix. She made sure Sarwin paid a heavy price for taking her daughter. She made it clear that the public humiliation he caused her would not go unanswered. She once offered Sarwin a sizable sum of money to leave Siverelle and when he refused, she became enraged, rattling threats against even his very life. He felt sure she meant it at the time. He saw the fury, as well as the hurt, deep in her austere eyes.
But that was years ago and, for reasons unknown to him, her threats were never carried out. Sarwin suspected that Siverelle had intervened, perhaps threatening to renounce her own mother should any "accident" befall him. Whatever the reason, Sarwin was thankful for it.
Ampharix would never accept him warmly, but in the ensuing years came to publicly criticize him less often. Perhaps because his works and discoveries had made him so very popular among the people. Perhaps because her own power was fading. Or maybe it could simply be the passing of years and the wisdom that comes with it. ...or the fatigue of battles too long waged, he thought. Whatever... That time was long past.
But he did have Siverelle and six wonderful children. For all the wrongs the World had thrown at him, Sarwin was happy. He had everything he ever wanted and so much, much more. He recalled how Playtia, his eldest, who married earlier in the year, had told him she planned on children of her own in the coming season. This pleased Sarwin more than he admitted to anyone, though he suspected Siverelle knew. He fingered the locket on his neck that held within it images of his entire family. There is room in here for more, he reflected. Many more.
The rational part of his mind finally kicked in the door locked by the romantic side and Sarwin let the locket fall to his chest. He had work to do now and pleasant musings of his family would have to wait. His next and by far the most ambitious, time-travel expedition was less than three months away and there was still much planning to do. Leaping into the past was a massive undertaking and required a lot of preparation. He still had shortfalls in financing and worse yet the Cleric General had recently informed him that the Senate was going to hold new hearings about his activities.
Some of the conservative ministers wanted to stop him from doing any more travel back in time. They said it was because they feared the consequences of his actions in the past, afraid that he would alter history. But Sarwin and his people had already established fail-safe procedures to prevent the corruption of the past. The senate had approved them during the first set of hearings, years before, but now the latest, more conservative Senate wanted to reexamine them.
With the Conservative Party having retaken the senate from the Moderates with a narrow majority in the last election, Sarwin worried they might try to stop him from any further trips. He knew their real fear, of course. That he might find evidence in the past that the World and saurian-kind were not created by T'Chen in her image, as the Scrolls professed.
Still, Sarwin pinned his hopes on the grass roots support he had managed to gather in recent years among the populace; the many like him who felt frustrated and disenfranchised by the long ruling theocracy. He knew many such saurians were petitioning the government not to interfere with his plans. Some were rioting in the streets, which troubled Sarwin, even if they furthered his cause.
Sarwin sighed to himself. For now, he needed a new student assistant to help keep him organized with the myriad details of his life. His last assistant was compelled by his devout parents to resign, distraught to discover their son secretly working for one of the World's most reviled heretics. He would make sure the next one had their parents blessing beforehand.
He pulled the next application from the top of the pile and glanced at it. It was that of a young female whose credentials were outstanding, as well as her academic history. He recognized the name and he pictured the youthful, energetic, gray-skinned female in his mind. It pleased Sarwin to see someone from his own, oppressed caste do well for herself. He recalled her as being from a religious background, which gave him cause for some concern, but she had seemed very open-minded and receptive to his teachings. Though he might not admit it to himself, it pleased Sarwin to wrest away one of the temple's chosen and bring her into his camp. He also noted she was an orphan and thus had no parents to overrule her decisions.
Yawning widely at the thought of so much work yet to do before he could finally go to bed, Sarwin placed young Etyiam's application into his briefcase.
He would talk to this one.