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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1618718-Fire-of-Refignment-Into-the-Flames-4
by Trisha
Rated: 13+ · Other · Fantasy · #1618718
Interstellar Advocateʻs encounter with the Revelation of Yashhan.
    1:4

    The Revelation

      Uncomfortable? I thought, I felt like I was in the lap of luxury as I looked around at the accommodations in the room. I marveled at the Advocate's humility and how these things seemed to have no hold on him: he was so willing to forfeit everything for this case.  "I better not get too used to this," I thought.  "If the road gets rougher down the way."
I looked carefully at the list:
         "Dark colors pose a strong front.
         Pants are stronger than skirts.
         Simplicity is strongest.
         Hair down is stronger than tied back.
         Fewer words make stronger statements.
         Look the Prime Minister in the eyes; you have an important case."
      I wondered about the form.  It was counter to some of the things I had been taught, like dresses are more formal and tying the hair back is more professional.  I understood the simplicity thing and looking in the eyes.  “This must have been built from his experience,” I reasoned.
      Without too much time to contemplate these things, a female associate of his people came into the room bearing books.  They were catalogs of items from which I was to choose the things I needed. I couldn't believe that I was being offered such grand things: from high quality hair brushes and pieces, to hand tailored suits, tooth care and stockings, boots and sleepwear. 
      Although she was well dressed: her mid-length silk-brown hair pinned back on the left revealing an ornamental ear-piece, I felt unworthy to the point of discomfort.  All my life, I hadn't had much and whatever I did have I treated with great respect.  My father was a house-call doctor in the desert country, not a surgeon; and he treated those who couldn't always pay him, like the Cerai'i.
      With the list in hand, I carefully chose the humble priced and simple necessities: a plain bristle brush, one simple dark colored pant-suit as a spare to the skirt-suit I had on, and one casual loose outfit for sleepwear.  Everything else I chose was only the bare basics.  It was the least and most gracious thing I could do after being offered so much.
      "If you have to order these things, how will I have them by tomorrow?" I asked with curiosity after I had chosen my items.
        "Oh no, these things will not be purchased.  They will be tailored and constructed here.  We have our own tailors, and manufacturers, come!" She took my hand and led me at a brisk pace far down the hall at the other end of the building.  There I was measured and fitted for the things I had picked out by more of his people. 
        Some of the men wore their hair tied up in a knot with a single simple piercing on the right ear, while their superiors wore their hair tied half way back on both sides. I noted other women who wore their hair half tied up on the side with an ornamental lacework over their left ear. 
        The lady associate who had led me there introduced me to the stylist who had been assigned to me.  She also wore her hair much the same but with more flare and an intricate ornamental piece over her ear.  She showed me her books on hairstyles and the guidelines she'd been given by the Advocate.  I chose the simplest of them all, sticking to his list, to have my hair down, but styled and brushed back so that it was kept out of my face.  She was quite pleasant and seemed pleased with my choice. 
      After these things were decided, I was escorted back to my quarters and left alone until the lunch meal.  A male associate, who seemed much like a butler, brought it in to me.  He was quiet, and said little; very solemn with his hair completely tied back.  As soon as I was finished he bowed slightly and left the room without another word.  Then I was left in silence.
        I looked out the North window in the shade of the mountain ridge overlooking forest and distant towns.  It was beautiful, but I was alone.  Everyone was busy and I felt I shouldn't leave these quarters.  I looked again at the luxurious room feeling unworthy to touch anything, and suddenly this luxurious room felt like a prison.  I was uncomfortable.  I was bored.  I was alone. 

      On the outside of the door of his quarters, the Advocate had placed the Que. not to disturb him, and so the butler passed by without a sound.

      I was getting restless.  The time was passing so slowly.  I watched the shadows outside move along the grounds, and wanted so much just to get out, to have some distraction, to do anything to pass the time.  I was anxious about tomorrow and I think that made the time drag more slowly. After several hours I heard footsteps outside the hall.  I jumped up and ran to the doorway.  An associate was coming, but she looked very focused, like she were on some sort of errand.  I plucked up my courage, "Excuse me."

      In the quiet, the Advocate sat reading the revelation of Yashhan.  He was deeply focused on the words: his soul hungering, so thirsting for these words.  He was drinking them into his being with pure joy, even trembling- from within his spirit, he trembled.

      These, the very words of Yashhan, written, and recorded.  At times, he almost forgot to breathe. How, for so long, he had yearned to know these things.
Ever so tenderly, he held the Sacred Book.

      When he came to the Name, the Precious Name, his soul delighted.
        The Name He had given of Himself to be called, to be known by. 
        He dared not speak it, so Sacred; but he held it in his heart, so precious.

    And Oh the heart of Yashhan!
So kind, so deeply caring.  He saw it reflected in the Law that He gave His people, for the benefit of the poor, the foreigner, and the native born. 
    He continued reading oblivious of the time until the intercom interrupted.

                   "Gjet, hish dah Carter, hish ikhmaht toh akhtoe."
                Sir, Ms. Carter wishes to go about the grounds.
                   "Ahay, abv hish dah, tohsh Morshaht.
                   All right, assign Morshaht to accompany her.
                "Ahay, Gjet."
      And he resumed his reading.

      Oh the tenderness of Yashhan!
        He called His people His children,
            and Himself even a father to the fatherless. 

      Tears filled his aged turquoise eyes, blurring his vision, and washing down his face.  All the many years he lived without a father: the longing, the pain. But all this time, he'd had a father in Yashhan,
      Yashhan the great powerful Eternal Being,
          Self-sustaining, never ending, ever enduring Being.
            Oh if he had only known.
      If only he had understood, but now he did. 
          He saw, and he wept. 
      With one hand he held his eyes
          and with the other he held Sacred Book
              out of the reach of his tears.
                  He let them fall.

      I was elated when they sent Morshaht to escort me around the grounds.  So filled with nervous energy, I chatted away endlessly even more than I did with Jaymith or Cordanali, and he merely listened quietly, not responding.  Sometimes I glanced at him, wondering if I'd talked his ears off enough, but I saw a slight smile on his face, so I kept talking.  At least he didn't seem irritated with me and I just couldn't be quiet for long, even if I tried.  I was so glad to get out and I hadn't seen the mountains in years. I was so thankful that the Advocate assigned Morshaht to me so I could get out of that little room and talk to someone.  And I was glad that it seemed that Morshaht didn’t' mind.

      Shadows continued to travel across the room and faded into the walls.  He was still reading.  Again the sound of the intercom interrupted the silence.
        "Gjet, ekh dobvish nahd moshtu ket ushtah."
                   Sir it is time for supper.
          "Ahay, kahkh obvei cit, wokh."
                   Thank you, set mine aside for me.
          "Ahay Gjet."
      And he kept reading, even as the sun set and it became dark, still he read by the light of the lamp that turned on automatically.

      The Master came in the way of all mortals,
          as a Human, so humbly, so meekly!

    He came among them.

    He shared in their suffering.

    He lived,
        He loved,
          He healed,
            He taught,
                and He died!

      He suffered and died unjustly,
          in ridicule,
            rejection and scorn. 

      He suffered beatings and marred whipping,
          so disfigured beyond Human likeness! 

      And then He was brutally left to die in agony while those who        taunted Him,
          and those who loved Him, looked on. 

    The familiarity struck deep in his heart. 
    He understood; He endured. 
        Yet He forgave.
              Oh so familiar, for it was just as was taught him.

    And after it all He returned in life and in great power.  His followers struggled to grasp the reality before their eyes; but He was patient with them and gracious.  And He left them, but not alone, for He left His Comforter to give them the power to obey    His commands:
      His very Spirit to dwell in their mortal bodies.

      To believe on Him and on His Name is how one is made His, and rescued from His just wrath, for all have erred against Him, and cannot enter His perfect presence. All deserve to die.
      But He died instead, to make a way for all to be delivered from their marred nature doomed to error, perversion and corruption: and such things His perfect presence cannot endure.  Through the Spirit He gave, one is no longer doomed, but able to resist, able to please Yashhan.

    And when these things sank deep in his heart,
        he was overtaken with weeping. 
            Openly he wept before Yashhan. 

      He lay himself fully face down on the floor, holding the    Sacred Book off the ground. 
          He wept for all the years he'd borne his pain,
            for all the years he'd longed to know.
                   And now he knew.
      He was comforted. 
          What he'd endured as a child for the truth, in part,
              the truth he did know,
                  was not for nothing.

      And they did not take it from him.

© Copyright 2009 Trisha (nishdashwe at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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