#hearer

How do you repay the cost of hundreds of lives?

The thought stood alone in Aedwen’s mind as she sat cross legged at the base of the great tree. A dirty shirt, ragged coat, fraying pants, and bare feet leaving her without the traditional garments of the Hearer’s. No ornate jewelry, no wrist bands made of wood, no shawl to hide her face. No, this night she sat in the barest of essentials beneath the verdant boughs of the ancient tree, bathed in the dark as it’s leaves blocked out the stars and moon above. How do you repay the costs of hundreds of lives?

Again, the thought moved through her mind. Again, she was left with no response to give. She thought of Echoing Thunder’s suggestion, of working to build a good life. No, that’d only give her just that... A good life. To just say she did well to those around her, that by touching a few hearts deeply, she may find some peace. It was too easy, too -simple-. 

How do you repay the costs of hundreds of lives?

It was a question of damnation almost, as it crossed her mind once more. If storytellers were to be believed, she’d need a noble sacrifice to absolve her of her sins. One great act of love and compassion for the world, to prove the good in her... To have people claim “no she wasn’t that bad, she died doing this good thing”, as they stood around her grave. 

How do you repay the costs of hundreds of lives?

She thought about justice. The option of coming forward with her treason, her crimes, and being punished accordingly for it. Most likely, for the lives lost, she’d lose everything from the neck up in one mighty cleave of an axe. It would not bring the lives lost back, but in all essence of the word... Justice would be given to the fallen. A hollow gift to souls long passed now.

Are you responsible for those lost lives?

She frowned for a moment, her brow furrowing gently. She had taken the name, Petillia Jen Cittinius. That mining town had been targeted, because the enemy thought her Petillia Jen Cittinius. They collapsed the mine because of her... They murdered the miners because of her... Hadn’t they?

Did you collapse the mine?

... No. No, she hadn’t. She had only taken the name. The Red had collapsed the mine... They had attacked the mining village, to most likely help protect the fact she had agreed to aid them... They had no way of knowing she was going to follow enough to betray them. She hadn’t spoken a word to them of that.

What purpose did killing the men in the collapsed mine serve?

Her eyes opened slowly as she glared at the ground before herself. No... They didn’t serve a purpose to kill them... No they were complete third parties, innocents. Scorpius was near them-- She felt her lips purse slowly. Had they... Been trying to kill him? Opportunistic as they were, had they sacrificed two hundred souls, to try and get the son of one of their enemies? Had they been that heartless?

You did nothing wrong. Those souls, are not on your head.

No. No, she had -stolen- that name. Had it been her name, they’d have done nothing to those people. She -had- to be at fault, it -had- to be her doing. -She- was responsible for taking the name, -she- was the reason they were even -there-...

But you didn’t pull the trigger, did you?

No... No she didn’t. She hadn’t pulled the trigger. She had been trying to save people, to help the villagers... To get Cittinius’ parents out of the village and to safety. She had done everything she could, to do what was right. She hadn’t... Killed them.

The thought felt strange, almost foreign to her. Since she had walked, it had been like a haze of loathing, and now... It was like that oppressive force of self blame had lifted just enough for her to see. To see that she was -INNOCENT- of the crime she had so eagerly wanted to blame on herself. 

And just as she could now see, and the self hatred lifted somewhat... She felt another, deeper rage filling her.

“Arenwyth...”

For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror; for he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was. James 1:23-24 Mirrors are great for looking into to see what one looks for oneself and most people use them every day. It can show flaws and successes in getting ready for the day. However, once one…

Monday’s Column: Neal At The Cross Neal Pollard I was originally going to call this, “The way we smell to others,” but thought that might be misleading or inaccurate. Paul uses a very unusual illustration to make an important point in 2 Corinthians 2:12-17. The backdrop of the illustration was when he came to Troas to take advantage of an open door to preach the gospel. It was a trying…

“The elements do not communicate as we do; they speak in a language older than any of us. If you are quiet and still, you just may hear them.”

A masked Elezen woman roamed the Twelveswood in the dead of night. Her long, loping strides carrying her effortlessly over the cobbled roads and dirt paths. Often she chose to spend her nights in quiet meditation, walking and listening to the world around her. Tonight, she lazily meandered along the edge of a small stream; lost in thought as she studied the water’s surface.    

“You may hear the babbling of a brook, or wind whispering through the trees. Take a moment child, and listen to what they have to say.”

It was true that Faye Davaut had the gift. She heard the rumblings of the earth, the crackling and roar of fire. The winds sang for the Hearer, and the water sputtered. The elements told her of their pain and sorrow; their hurt and their loss. It wasn’t always easy to listen.

“Convey the will of the elementals to those that cannot hear. Remind them of the old ways. Protect the Twelveswood.”

When you don’t make everybody’s business your business, you travel faster, on the path to a successful life.

Minding one’s business could be very difficult for some people as they always want to know who said what, who did what, what was said or done and where it was said or done. This kind of people are only hearers and never doers. Unfortunately the world is moved by only doers.

A doer takes…