Spirits of Rock and Sky > Sisterhood Amongst Jentik

Tukarn 635 Tells of Crei and the Stairway to the High Plateau

Crei was the first Namekeeper of our Tribe, or so I say. Like all of the Earliest, she was the only holder of her name, a precious gift from a great spirit of the World Beyond. She was close to the One God, as were all the Earliest. The Taletellers who partner with Susyan in Tumri at the base of the Stairway claim it was Crei, not the One God, who crafted the only Path to ascend our High Plateau. This I do not say - two full wakes to ascend in the first generation of youth; stairs beyond count, each perfectly shaped from the rock of the World. Such is the work of the One God, who crafted the World beneath the Sky and within the World Beyond, not of Jentik - not even of the first mothers of the generations of legend.

But, daughter, it was Crei who led our ancestral mothers to ascend the Stairway. Of the Earliest, it is Crei we must thank for our communities built amidst the peace and safety of the Plateau.

[ Posted by Reason on June 26, 2005 | Permanent Link ]

Raul Comforts Dairin 317

You have come to me because I am old, and because I am Susyan - so I do not know your spirit. It has been too many cycles since Dairin 27 Passed to the Sky, but I know the spirit of the Jentik well enough to speak as I do. You are as one spirit, yet as many. My Oathbound, those with whom I have not clasped hands in a generation, would have given respect to you all, would have mistaken one for another and not seen that which made Dairin 27 my partner.

Sit, dry your tears on woven flax. Cruelty comes easily to those who share spirits. You are young, and I am old enough to be cruel in teaching - worse will happen. Others will come, will give you great happiness, will wound your spirit deeply, will leave or Pass. You yourself will do the same.

The Taletellers speak of Tukarn of the Earliest, partner of Crei; she was skilled and often climbed the great Outlook facing the Realm of the World Crafter. It was she who built the first stairway of bone to reach the very top, though little remains now. She threw herself from the Outlook rock upon learning of the Passing of Crei, gripped with a grief I understand all too well. But I am Susyan, and I must wait for my time - this is the way desired by the Ancestral Sky Spirits.

A beautiful wind flute once stood before this dwelling. It spoke with a voice I and many another tried to recapture in wood and bone - tried and failed. Yet it stands there no more, for I carried it across the Plateau rock to Tukarn's Outlook. There it speaks for me in the chill wind, amidst ancient gifts placed by ten thousand ancestral mothers of the Jentik. For this grief we all share.

No, it does not take the pain away - but it is the rightful Path. Speak to your mother of her life, ask openly and then journey to Tukarn's Outlook. Leave a little of yourself in memory of cycles shared and find an understanding amidst the space of lives and generations.

[ Posted by Reason on June 26, 2005 | Permanent Link ]

The Namekeeper of Dairin

This is an old scroll you bring me; the leather is cracked, the ink is faded. Bring the flame closer so that I may read, for the Midrin brushwork is almost gone, and my sight is not as it was in my first generation.

This, the scroll speaks: Time became cruel to Dairin 347, as it will become cruel to us all. Yet still, there were calls for her voice and wisdom. The scrolls came from far and wide, and many were the messengers that climbed Crei's Stairway. But until the very end of her life, Dairin 347 would not leave the territory of our ancestors. She had been scarred, and the world suffered with her.

I know of this name; it is upon the Saddened Scroll of our community, not written to in generations. There is no Dairin 347, and will not be again - the name has Passed and returned to the great spirits of the World Beyond. The Taletellers recall, as is their duty: Dairin 347 took a life in this community, and for sister to slay sister is the greatest of ills. This, many generations before my grandmother's time, but the Taletellers recall.

[ Posted by Reason on June 27, 2005 | Permanent Link ]