Camnel Une Mefesa Inks Words of Tumnil
Spirits of Rock and Sky > Inked by Scholars and Scribes

I have heard the words each time I have come to this great, most divine place: "This shall be the Law of the Order, so listen well as I speak. There shall be no conflict, no theft and no violence upon the territory sacred to the Provider. The Words of the Order are as the Words of a God. Respect them and you shall prosper. It is forbidden for you to remain beyond the third cycle hence." The acolyte who conducted the Ritual of Welcome found my Brothers and I where Tumnil meets the World, shadows and open rock behind, seedgrass, trees and the haze of divine color ahead.

I have been in Tumnil for long wakes now, enough for my eyes to adjust to the bright and warming Lights of the Provider. So strange and divine are my surroundings that, even forwarned and experienced, I believe I will never become used to it. Each new journey to this, the center of the World, seems like the first. Yet the robed Initiates seem comfortable here, as do their acolytes. Authority comes naturally to the Servants of the Provider; it does not seem strange to take their orders in the fields or amongst the Supplicants' Shelters - even for one of my Rank in the Brotherhood.

The softness of the soil underfoot still troubles me; the Unranked and Lutnens of the Brotherhood complain of sore ankles and stretched muscles. My aches of age are a greater burden, but I have long passed the cycles in which I can work as a Supplicant; thus I remain silent. Let the Sons and Daughters of Families complain while they can yet run the open rock and trade their strength as Supplicants for wood and inkberries.

Fragments and dust from soil and the Divine That Grows cling to fingers and clothes; Supplicants' eyes are red from rubbing. But still - Tumnil! We wake and sleep within the Realm of a God, the Divine pressed close to us with each heartbeat. The Divine That Grows is everywhere; trees, bushes, seedgrass and a hundred other signs of the divinity of the Provider. To touch even the smallest leaf is to touch a divine creation and be reminded once again that this is truly the home of a God.

The colors are unforgettable. The Lights of the Provider give everything that I own and wear new shades and hues; I watch the Unranked turn our their leather packs in wonder when they wake or return from the work of Supplicants in the fields. All that is familiar - wood, leather, bone, flesh, the shape of faces and hair - is different here. The Divine Will of the Provider reaches out to touch everything in His Realm.

[ Posted by Reason on March 26, 2005 ]