TFAMM – Tell them this is your song

[Ben]

I remember..

I woke to a smell like wood smoke. At first it was soothing, then the scent.. turned..

I had spent the night in the trees hoping to gather more herbs. Looking up from the treetops I could see flames licking the rooftops of the village.

FIRE!

I ran to join the villagers, half stumbling along the way from my still sore leg. I scrambled from area to area of the town, gathering children and the old and sick, at times, scrambling through windows and into burning buildings. Even with a lamed leg, I’m more dexterous than many. The smoke at times was near enough to overcome me.

At one point I saw my friend, Aada ushering children out of the town and pulling fallen beams off others. We shared a pained nod as we went about the business of saving as many as we could.

I wetted a cloth with water and tied it over my mouth to keep out the smoke.

I don’t know how this fire started, but it had spread all over the town, and honestly, I don’t CARE how it had started, I just want to get everyone to safety.

I’d see other faces as I went, some familiar, some less so. The town guard was helping usher people to outside the area of the blaze and seemed to spend just as much time asking how it had begun. A large male human, wearing ceremonial robes covered in soot, was helping gather children from an orphanage. There were two others with him, similarly robed. I gathered they were the local priesthood. Murmured voices around me told that their temple had near completely fallen to the blaze.

Much of the fire was nearing containment in other areas, but here, in the center of town, it raged. It was tearing it’s way along the roof of the orphanage. The building would not stand long. Admonishing his acolytes to wait outside, the priest ran into the building and the smoke. Across the street, I locked eyes on Aada, coming upon the scene. Nodding, regretfully, she ran in after him.

I remembered, then, that I had heard about him from her. They would disagree, often, as he saw her beliefs and practices to be antithetical to his faith, and yet, she said, their disagreement was always respectful. She honored that he accepted all races, all classes, equally into his temple, even when doing so went against the wishes of some humans, who wished for separation along racial lines. “At least”, she said, “though he and I held different beliefs, he always practiced what he preached!”

I couldn’t let them do this alone. I bounded past the acolytes and made my own way into the burning building after them.

Together we pushed our way from room to room, passing the children to the acolytes outside, to help tend to them. At times I climbed the sides of the walls or leaped past flames to make my way. Then, when we all nearly had succumbed to the smoke, Aada emerged from the back of the building, clutching a limp infant, making her way towards the priest and I, as the roof beam collapsed. Saying a prayer I had never heard, the priest leapt to her side, shouldering the burning crossbeams even as it’s flames licked his clothing, to lift it off Aada. I was to her in an instant, taking the child from her grasp, the priest was Attempting to lift the crossbeams off Aada, that she might escape. If I stayed beside them, the child would die. I rushed outside to hand the infant into the arms of the acolytes. My whole intention was to return, but I knew what my ears heard even as I saw it on the faces of the acolytes. The building collapsed in flames behind me.

When the fire was finally contained, a few hours later, we tallied the dead. In a town of roughly 400, 42 had died, and many more were missing, possibly buried in the rubble, dead or alive, we did not know. Some of the dead were the old or infirm, but many, many died in the act of saving others. The charred bodies of Aada and the priest were found clutching one another.

The priest’s acolytes, a young boy and girl, were near children themselves, barely beginning to learn the duties of their faith, and with no temple or books remaining to guide them. When the town mayor, a half-elf named Erdith asked who would be willing to lead a service for the dead, I nervously raised my hand.

Taking me to the side, she asked, “do you have any experience with these things?” I could see from her expression that she did not feel great trust in my appearance. Perhaps, she held some secret distaste for animal races. Pushing such thoughts aside, I replied. “I come here from another land. Another world perhaps. In my world, I was raised in a temple, and the priest’s of my temple said prayers and led the ceremonies for funerals and many of the other hallmarks of life. I’m not the best of my order, and maybe not the best for THIS, but, it would be my pleasure to honor these souls with words, and maybe help their souls and ours be at peace.”

She looked at me long and hard, looked at my robes, seemed to second guess it, then nodded, saying “tell me what you need then.”

At night we prepared funeral pyres outside the city. I walked amongst the bodies and the mourners, bearing incense, saying prayers to the families and ancestors of those present, comforting the living, and blessing the dead.

Getting to a platform in the middle, I cleared my throat. The lump I felt must have been smoke inhalation. The two acolytes stood on the platform with me. The mayor as well. All of them looked as if they wondered what I might say. The town itself looked upon me with many eyes. Perhaps they ALL wondered. I know I did. Then I started to speak..

“We come from the void into life. Many of us believe that our spirit enters this world and this body to make life begin.” The acolytes nodded. I began to pace as I talked.

“What then, defines our life, and how are we remembered when we leave this life behind. So many of those we remember tonight, gave their lives to save others. Their last expression was love for others. This is how they should be remembered, for what they have given to us. What they have shared. What we hope we have learned.”

“When someone passes, their memory lives on within us.”

“For a time, we mourn. But in time, what then?”

“There is a story, from my own temple, of the sage Chuang Tse, after his wife had died. A friend came to see him afterward, and found him drumming on a kettle pot, and singing.”

“How can you be singing when your wife just died, the friend asked? Chuang Tse answered, before my wife was born she was nothing, now she has returned to nothing. I will too one day. I have had my time with her by my side, now she has gone. I miss her, and I have mourned, but now, I realize she has gone to rest, should I follow her with wailing? Instead, I sing for her!”

I paused for a moment. I’m not sure how that was received, then I went on.

“I too have lost a friend to this fire, and mourning may still come, but for now, the sound I want to find her, and all these others, is a sound of joy for all they have given us. A celebration of the joy of life, and for those who go before us into the next great journey.”

I picked up a log I had found and a stick that would make a good beater for rhythm, and I stepped of the stage, beating my “drum” and half humming a nonsense like child’s tune, just singing the notes, “da da da dum, dum da da Dee, Dee da da dum..” as I wandered among the crowd. At first they stared at me as if in shock, many of them still crying.. the children were the first to join in, some laughing or clapping, singing or whistling, eventually other instruments joined in, and most of the town sang their dead into the next life..

I wandered out from the crowd and paused at the outskirts of the pyre and the town. Gradually a figure stood at the edges of the pyres, their shadow defined by the light behind them. Then there were two, the acolytes. The boy ran towards me. At first I wasn’t sure why, then he wrapped me in a hug and cried.

“You’re leaving aren’t you?” he said.

“I think so, yeah”, I replied. “I believe it’s time to journey on, see what else I can learn.”

“But, we need you here!” he said. “With Father Donlain gone, we have no cleric, no one to speak to our people on matters of faith!” The girl in the shadows nodded her assent.

“Sure you do kids”, I replied, “but even more than speaking, the best thing is listening, to the people, and to your heart. The both of you have observed and absorbed in your time with your teacher, your Father Donlain, you have all that you need. Now is the time to listen, to what you have learned, and to what you’re still learning. Stay true to that, and your teacher is right there with you”. I looked off for a moment. “Kind of like mine are here with me in moments like this. My path lies elsewhere. For now, yours is here, amongst your people, cultivating their growth and each of your own. Until, like the seeds of a plant in bloom, the wind carries you where you need to go.”

The two of them stood looking at me, looking at each other, and then the girl took the boys hand.

I nodded, turned, and walked away, but as I did, I thought it was Aada I heard say “thank you”.

..years have gone by now, and her voice still speaks to me.

To the earth return
In the Winds be free
Whatever yous burdens lay them down.
Take it easy, my friend..

[Author]

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