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In Pulverem Reverteris

Started by Evie, June 10, 2010, 04:30:01 PM

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Evie

Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris.
Remember, human, that you are dust, and to dust you will return --Genesis 3:19
In Pulverem Reverteris

"Memento, homo, quia pulvis es...."

I watched the priests before us, tracing the ashes upon the foreheads of the penitent.  There were two lines, one short and one long.  Two lines—a choice to make—just as yesterday the bishop standing at the head of my line had had to make a choice of his own.

His choice was why I was here now, waiting for my turn to kneel at the altar before him, and not standing before the priest at the head of the other line.  Not that there was anything the matter with Father Shandon.  I certainly had no reason to disrespect the junior priest, but I waited upon the bishop nonetheless.

Still, I was frightened.   Not of him, but of my own choice.  For I was going against a lifetime of hiding, to set myself in this line.

Not that anyone would guess my secret simply by my choice to receive the ashes by the bishop's hand this morning.  There were others ahead of me, others I knew to be nothing more than what they appeared to be.  Faithful believers.  Humble penitents, here to observe the beginning of the Lenten fast.   Simply human.  But I would know the reasons for my choice.  Such a small step, mayhap, but of such small steps were the beginnings of a journey made.

"Memento, homo, quia pulvis es...."

Alienora and I had quarreled, earlier.  She'd chosen the other line, not wishing to be associated in any way with the man who stood at the head of mine, fearing him, neither knowing what he could do with his powers nor trusting that he wouldn't use them on the flock under his care.  "You know what they say about those folks!" she'd argued.  "Even now, he could be taking over people's minds, corrupting them...."

I'd tried to reason with her, but it had been of little use.  Now she stood in Father Shandon's line, some distance back, for her line was the longer one and moved more slowly.  Still, if I turned to look at her, she would be frowning at me, urging me to join her.

I had stopped looking back, not wishing to be entreated back to the safer path.

"Memento, homo, quia pulvis es...." 

It must have taken great courage for him to reveal himself, what he was, before the entire King's Court,  before all gathered there, including his own ecclesiastical superiors, even though he'd long been in the King's favor, as he'd been in the favor of the King before him. Even though it had already been rumored, long before yesterday's Court, that he possessed powers forbidden to priests.  Powers long forbidden to any man, for many years concealed by those who bore such powers for fear of the stake.

This bishop, it was said, was nearly burned at a stake once, by an Archbishop filled with hatred for our kind.

My kind.

"Who knows what sorts of perversion he hides beneath his stole?" Alienora had ranted.  "I knew something was wrong about him when I heard he had a son!  Sure, he tries to claim a prior marriage, but what man has a son he knows naught about for fifteen years, unless the lad be baseborn?   And no witnesses?  Of course, now that we know he's one of those damned Deryni, that explains all!"

"Memento, homo, quia pulvis es...."

It had ever been thus, the accusations against my kind, and I had ever been silent, as my parents before me, as their parents before them had been, not answering hatred with hatred, anger with anger, in part for fear of the stake. 

We are commanded to love, though it be difficult at times.  Still, I could not hate Alienora so much as I pitied her.  For one thing, I knew no matter what other place she might hold in our lives now, she did not hold my father's heart.

"Why in God's name did you marry her, Father?" I had asked the first time she had gone on such a rant, not long after my sire had brought his new wife home to live with us.   "Surely you must have known beforehand how she feels about our race!"

He had nodded, resigned acceptance on his face.  "Aye.  But there are benefits."

"What benefits?  A joining of lands, and a younger woman in your bed?  I can't fathom what you even see in that shrew, after Maman's gentility and kindness!  Is she worth the risks?"
   
He'd flushed, but fixed me with a stern glare.  "Have you ever considered, daughter, that no one would ever give a second thought to suspect a Deryni and his kindred might be joined to such a woman as Alienora de Nore?  And anyway," he'd added, not quite meeting my eyes, "she's barren."

"Memento, homo, quia pulvis es...." 

That had been my father's answer to his own struggle with our Deryni blood.  He had thought to answer the problem by suppressing the yearnings of the flesh, denying himself the pleasure of my mother's embrace during the time between her monthly courses when they believed her to be most fertile.   If, he'd thought, he and my mother produced no offspring, there would be no furtherance of his line to have to hide our shameful secret.  No children to fear for, that we'd be discovered, that we'd all be killed for the bad blood that had been our inheritance. 

My brother's and my existence could attest to how well that solution had worked for them. 

I was close to the head of the line now.  The bishop's eyes were blue—as serene as a summer sky.  He was younger than I'd realized; handsome, even.  I carefully tucked the thought away behind tight shields, as one might demurely tuck unslippered feet under the hem of one's gown.

"Memento, homo, quia pulvis es....."

A tall, blond man approached the kneeler now.  I recognized his lean form even from behind—Alaric Morgan, Duke of Corwyn.  He was one of the few of our kind who had dared to live openly.  My father thought him a fool, to be so daring.  I thought him courageous beyond compare.

My courage was a much smaller sort, I knew.  Yet there would be hell to pay, once I returned home this day.  For Alienora would not forgive, nor forget, my act of disobedience. 

Still, if only just this once, I must make the harder choice, this silent act of rebellion—if rebellion it truly was—in honor of those who had made choices harder still.  Those whose courage had shone all the more brightly than my small act of faith this day.

Men and women filed past me, leaving the altar, walking out of the cathedral, their foreheads smudged with ashes in the shape of the Cross.  In the shape of the sign of Christ's victory over death, for the rites of Ash Wednesday are no mere reminder of our mortality, but also a reminder that death itself has been conquered and holds us in its thrall no longer.  Just as Christ died so man might experience true freedom, so must a man live in such as way as to bring that freedom to others.  Not all are called to sacrifice, but all are called to take up the Cross and follow.

I was afraid.  Still, I was tired of running.  Tired of hiding.  Ready to take up my cross and follow also.

"Memento, homo, quia pulvis es...." 

I took up my place at the kneeler now.  The bishop started down the row, tracing the ashen sign on forehead after forehead, reciting the blessed words of reminder over each.  I waited my turn, quietly making a silent petition to God for the strength to do what I must, though I trembled at the thought, my body even now urging me to flee, to take the safer course.  But I could not.

He stood before me, blue eyes kind, as he reached his ash-stained thumb to trace the cross upon my forehead.  I met his gentle touch with a timid mind-touch of my own, lowering my shields just enough so he could see me as I am.  Deryni, like himself, though unlike him, so very frightened.

He paused very briefly, but in that brief instant I sensed understanding and compassion.

"Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris."  Remember, man, that you are dust, and to dust you will return.  It was a reminder of mortality, but the sign the Deryni bishop traced upon my brow was a reminder of our hope.  Yes, to dust I would return someday, as would we all.  But not this day.  And not, God willing, by burning at a stake.   One small step at a time, men and women of courage would do as they must, would make what sacrifices they must, would take up their crosses and follow Him into the freedom, not only to live abundantly, but to simply live.  The freedom to live without fear.  The freedom simply to be.

"Thank you," I whispered as I stood to leave.

There was no vocal answer, but as I turned to walk away, I felt a gentle touch of blessing in my mind.


"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

AnnieUK

Bravo!  I really enjoyed this and am sitting here dabbing away a tear.  More please!

Alkari

That's a beautiful story, and you have perfectly captured the internal conflicts faced by so many Deryni.
I particularly liked your pen-portraits of Duncan and Alaric, showing their individual brands of courage, and what the two of them had done and suffered.

It must have taken great courage for him to reveal himself, what he was, before the entire King's Court,  before all gathered there, including his own ecclesiastical superiors, even though he'd long been in the King's favor, as he'd been in the favor of the King before him. Even though it had already been rumored, long before yesterday's Court, that he possessed powers forbidden to priests.  Powers long forbidden to any man, for many years concealed by those who bore such powers for fear of the stake.
And:
Alaric Morgan, Duke of Corwyn.  He was one of the few of our kind who had dared to live openly.  My father thought him a fool, to be so daring.  I thought him courageous beyond compare.

I don't think even Arilan understands them properly.

I do hope you will give us more of your unnamed Deryni heroine, who finally stands up for her Choice in life, even in just this small way.

Evie

#3
Thanks for the comments!  They help nourish my writer's soul.   :D

I would like very much to write about my unnamed young lady again, if she'll talk to me again and hopefully give me her name this time.  This is a story that came to me while I was driving and listening to the QSC audiobook, simmered on my back-brain for a couple of days, and refused to let me go until I wrote it.  I can't force a story to happen, though; I write utter crap when I try.  Even outlining one is next to impossible.  I have to wait for the characters to speak.

I was listening again to the scene in QSC immediately following that Ash Wednesday service, and as much as I hate to admit agreeing with Arilan on anything, from a more pragmatic point of view Duncan probably should've consulted with Cardiel first before revealing himself.  But I'm glad he didn't, and I suspect there were a few people looking up to him who were glad also.

Arilan's inner conflicts would be fascinating to write about, if only a story would come to me....  *sigh*

I have a novella or short-novel length Deryni story I'd love to post someday, though I don't know that it would fit here.  For one thing, I rely heavily on italics for quite a few flashback and Mind-Seen scenes, which are an utter pain to have to reformat by hand in order to paste the text here.  For another, even if I post the novel in sections, I don't know what the character limit is on a forum post, and if I could fit the longest section in one post or would need to chop it up further.  I am seeking a beta-reader or two for it, though, and/or at least someone to help me fact-check some of the details, since I only have a few of the books in print and am having to rely on careful listening to the audiobooks to refresh my memory of some of the key scenes my story revolves around.  The story is also slightly "Alternate Universe", since it has a main character in it from another place and culture that isn't part of the canonical Eleven Kingdoms (a quasi-Celtic island that lies west of Gwynedd), interacting with the characters from the series.  If I don't end up posting it here, whether due to length or unsuitability because of the AU elements, I'd like to at least find somewhere to upload it and post a link here once it's ready.  It's currently saved as a .doc file, but can be made available in .rtf (Rich Text File, which I think can be read on a Mac as well as a PC) if anyone would like to volunteer to give it a read.  Guinea pigs Prospective beta-readers are welcome to contact me off-forum at mail2evie (at) yahoo (dot) com.
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Alkari

#4
I've also asked about the process for posting fics, as I am writing one now.  Inspired by a comment in one post about Briony discovering she could Heal ...  :)

Arilan's inner conflicts would be fascinating to write about, if only a story would come to me....  *sigh*  Oh yes - and I *really* wonder when he is going to reveal himself to all the other bishops as Deryni!  So far, he has let Duncan take all the heat in that respect, but with the repeal of the Statutes of Ramos, isn't it about time Denis Arilan stood up openly for who and what he is?  Maybe you could be inspired to write that one  (hint!)   :D


Evie

I don't know; given what generation Arilan comes from (remember, if he's ten years or so older than Alaric, he's easily able to remember the final years of King Donal's reign), I think he's fairly bold as it is.  It would have taken a lot of gumption for him to reveal himself to Cardiel, and having finally done so, I can imagine it will take him a lot longer to get up the nerve to take that risk again.  Though I think, deep down, he'd really love to have the mask come off someday.  He practically comes out and  says so at least once (I'm thinking I remember something along those lines in the conversation where he's reaming Duncan after the Ash Wednesday service); it's just that, for him, "someday" hasn't arrived yet.

I think Arilan has a lot of courage for a man of his time...which, unfortunately, is about half a generation earlier than Alaric's and Duncan's, so it just appears to shine less brightly by perhaps unfair comparison.  Then again...have I mentioned the ol' curmudgeon is growing on me?   ;)

You'll have to talk to my Muse about inspiration, though, and right now she's whispering the beginning of another story to me.  I'm about a page and a half into a story about a young lady-in-waiting to be, who just happens to be the same nameless girl in In Pulverem Reverteris, only she's got a name now.   :D  Don't know when I'll have a time to finish the story, though, as I've got family coming into town on Monday for a two week visit.
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Evie

Just to update, I'm currently working on Sophie's latest story (that's my nameless girl from this one), though it might end up being longer than I thought.  Hopefully not another mule-choker, though; I don't think my sanity (much less my available free time) could take another one!
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

AnnieUK

I'm going to do what I never thought I'd find myself doing and defend Denis Arilan!

I've long been of the opinion that Denis has seen his role as more of an undercover agent, trying to get as many Deryni priests and bishops into the church as possible (we know there's at least one other than Duncan, don't we, but I can't remember who or how offhand).  Then as things relaxed and the lower ones could gradually be revealed, he could do a "there you are, and they've been doing a good job, so what's the problem?" and then he could be the big "ta-da!!" at the end.  And if he were an archbishop by then, so much the better.  So I'm ok with him staying hidden really, as a supposed human priest supporting Deryni (as when he speaks for Alaric in the trial scene in DR) he can have more impact.

Sorry, early, I have a migraine, and I'm not very coherent!

Evie

#8
Quote from: AnnieUK on June 17, 2010, 01:35:04 AM
I'm going to do what I never thought I'd find myself doing and defend Denis Arilan!

*laugh*  Yeah, I find myself doing that more and more lately too.

Quote
I've long been of the opinion that Denis has seen his role as more of an undercover agent, trying to get as many Deryni priests and bishops into the church as possible (we know there's at least one other than Duncan, don't we, but I can't remember who or how offhand).  Then as things relaxed and the lower ones could gradually be revealed, he could do a "there you are, and they've been doing a good job, so what's the problem?" and then he could be the big "ta-da!!" at the end.  And if he were an archbishop by then, so much the better.  So I'm ok with him staying hidden really, as a supposed human priest supporting Deryni (as when he speaks for Alaric in the trial scene in DR) he can have more impact.

Yes, each man is working for the betterment of his Deryni brothers; it's just that they do so in different ways.  Arilan has laid the initial groundwork without which Duncan would not have been able to get as far as he has in paving the way for Deryni to function more openly within the episcopate.  (Even if, in Arilan's opinion and more and more in mine, he might have jumped the gun a bit and did it prematurely.  It would've been optimal if they could've coordinated their efforts rather than working against each other, but 20/20 hindsight and all that.)

Or, to present the same notion in terms two bishops ought to be able to appreciate....  

Argument borrowed from I Corinthians Chapter 3, with not overly fervent apologies to the Apostle Paul :D :

5  Who then is Denis, and who is Duncan, but ministers by whom ye believed [that even Deryni are worthy of God's grace and a spiritual calling], even as the Lord gave to every man?

6  Denis has planted, Duncan watered; but God gave the increase.

7  So then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase.

8   Now he that planteth and he that watereth are one: and every man shall receive his own reward according to his own labour.

9   For we are labourers together with God: ye are God's husbandry, ye are God's building.

10  According to the grace of God which is given unto Denis, as a wise masterbuilder, Denis has laid the foundation, and Duncan buildeth thereon. But let every man take heed how he buildeth thereupon.

Now hopefully Paul isn't spinning in his grave, ululating in high pitch.   ;)

Oh, and Father Nivard is the "at least one other" I think you're alluding to, though there are a few more that remain nameless.  (More story fodder?)

Quote
Sorry, early, I have a migraine, and I'm not very coherent!

Hate those; hope you feel better soon!
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Evie



Sophie de Varnay (my nameless girl in this story), I'm thinking, although I'm still playing around with Morphthing, having fun creating new faces.   :D
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

AnnieUK

OMG keep her away from Derry.  Or Dhugal.  But especially Derry.

Evie

#11
Quote from: AnnieUK on June 17, 2010, 10:52:42 AM
OMG keep her away from Derry.  Or Dhugal.  But especially Derry.

Heh.   ;D

BTW, my prototype for a Duncan picture is on the ANAMCHARA website now, though I might replace it if further tweaking comes up with a face I like better.  This one's hair is still a bit lighter than I envision for Duncan's, for one thing.  For some reason I see him with more medium-dark to dark brown hair, even though the books don't specify the actual shade, and it could well be a lighter brown similar to his mother's.

Don't worry though, I'll shield my innocent little Sophie from Derry, even if I have to throw him to the ground and sit on him enlist Alaric's assistance.   ;)   And if you read to the end of ANAMCHARA, you'll know she has nothing to fear from Dhugal.   :D
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

AnnieUK

#12
Not got to the end yet, sorry.  I can see why it took you 3 weeks - it's mahooosive!

Totally OT, I had a look at that morph thingy, and though Tom Cruise and David Beckham do nothing for me, the morph of the two of them is HOT!  

Sorry, told you it was OT!

ETA been to look at "Duncan" and I see him as darker, but that version is pretty gorgeous.  Eyes are amazing and the slight smile on the mouth.  OK, leaving the thread before you convert me and I start having improper thoughts about a priest!

Evie

#13
Quote
Totally OT, I had a look at that morph thingy, and though Tom Cruise and David Beckham do nothing for me, the morph of the two of them is HOT!  

LOL!  Yeah, I've wasted sooooo much time on that website already.  I finally had to tear myself away from the male faces and try my hand at the women.  Came out with an Araxie I like pretty well; now trying to figure out Rothana.  I've almost managed an Alaric I'm satisfied with (except the hair's a little darker than I'd like), but my word, that man's hard! 
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

AnnieUK

*** sits on hands to avoid typing a smutty reply ***