Post by devilinthedetails on Aug 19, 2020 5:47:16 GMT 10
Series: The Voice
Title: Fire is Life
Rating: PG
Event: Hazy Shade of Winter-Open Flame
Words: 715
Summary: Ali instructs Jonathan before an open flame.
Fire is Life
“Make an open flame with your magic,”Ali ordered Jonathan when the northern prince entered his tent and they began his first lesson.
He could see the surprise that he would chose to start with this exercise flare in Jonathan’s gaze but the prince used his Gift to ignite a fire without question, the flames blazing a hot blue before settling into a sunset red-orange.
“When you think of fire, what ideas and images do you associate with it?” Ali watched as the flickering flames through ever-shifting parts of Jonathan’s pale face into shadows.
“Destruction. Fire can burn a whole city or forest to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes.” Jonathan’s tone was serious—too aware of the dangerous, destructive aspects of fire, and not sufficiently attuned to its creative, breathing elements. The northern prince didn’t yet understand that fire was the dynamic dance of life. “It’s anger, rage, jealousy, and forbidden passion—all the emotions that can ruin ourselves and others.”
“That is only part of what fire is when misused or used carelessly.” Ali shook his head. “When used and understood properly, fire is glorious, unpredictable life and creation. The sun is fire, and without the sun, there would be no life on our world. The sun may seem merciless when its scorching rays fall on the desert sand, but without the sun, we would not exist. Without fire, we would not exist. That is a truth the Bazhir have not forgotten.”
Ali extended his palms over the open flame Jonathan’s magic had made, warming his skin like a lizard basking on a rock in the sun. “That is why we gather around campfires every night. That is why we commune with the voice around a campfire every night at sunset. That is why we have our councils and make our most important decisions around campfires. That is why we pass our stories from one generation to the next before campfires. Our campfires are what warm us on long, cold desert nights when the sun’s heat has vanished from the sand. Our campfires are how we bake the flatbread and the lamb that sustain us.”
“Fire does make me feel connected to everybody sitting around it with me.” The cackling flames were reflected in Jonathan’s contemplative eyes. “It even makes me feel connected to all the generations that have ever sat around fires, stretching back to the dawn of time.”
“Yes.” Ali nodded, pleased with his student’s self-revelation. “Fire links us to the past as well as to the future generations who will also use fire to survive and might tell stories of us. Now you see fire is creation and connection. Tell me, are you still scared of it?”
Jonathan paused before replying, “I respect it, but I don’t fear it.”
“Good. It wouldn’t due for the Voice to be afraid of fire.” Ali’s smile cracked like a pistachio. “After all, the fire isn’t just outside of us, but inside of us. Not just inside the Voice, but in all the Bazhir—in all people under the sky. The fire is the light and the knowledge blazing within all of us.”
The northern prince was wide-eyed, absorbing everything like a man desperate for water stumbling on an oasis and attempting to swallow it all in one great gulp.
“And if that light, that knowledge, goes out”—Ali’s smile dropped from his face as a veil of solemnity fell over it and he covered the flames with his hand, extinguishing them so that darkness descended upon the tent—“then we die. That is why it is the duty of the Voice to ensure that the fire of the Bazhir never is left untended and never burns out. When I die, when my fire burns out, that responsibility, that burden, will pass to you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Jonathan sounded serious, but Ali knew he couldn’t truly appreciate the magnitude of what he was promising until the ceremony that made him the Voice. He would have to be transformed into the Voice before he could understand the burden a Voice bore. That had been so for every Voice that ever lived and breathed before him. It was a legacy that would never be interrupted as long as there were Voices.
Title: Fire is Life
Rating: PG
Event: Hazy Shade of Winter-Open Flame
Words: 715
Summary: Ali instructs Jonathan before an open flame.
Fire is Life
“Make an open flame with your magic,”Ali ordered Jonathan when the northern prince entered his tent and they began his first lesson.
He could see the surprise that he would chose to start with this exercise flare in Jonathan’s gaze but the prince used his Gift to ignite a fire without question, the flames blazing a hot blue before settling into a sunset red-orange.
“When you think of fire, what ideas and images do you associate with it?” Ali watched as the flickering flames through ever-shifting parts of Jonathan’s pale face into shadows.
“Destruction. Fire can burn a whole city or forest to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes.” Jonathan’s tone was serious—too aware of the dangerous, destructive aspects of fire, and not sufficiently attuned to its creative, breathing elements. The northern prince didn’t yet understand that fire was the dynamic dance of life. “It’s anger, rage, jealousy, and forbidden passion—all the emotions that can ruin ourselves and others.”
“That is only part of what fire is when misused or used carelessly.” Ali shook his head. “When used and understood properly, fire is glorious, unpredictable life and creation. The sun is fire, and without the sun, there would be no life on our world. The sun may seem merciless when its scorching rays fall on the desert sand, but without the sun, we would not exist. Without fire, we would not exist. That is a truth the Bazhir have not forgotten.”
Ali extended his palms over the open flame Jonathan’s magic had made, warming his skin like a lizard basking on a rock in the sun. “That is why we gather around campfires every night. That is why we commune with the voice around a campfire every night at sunset. That is why we have our councils and make our most important decisions around campfires. That is why we pass our stories from one generation to the next before campfires. Our campfires are what warm us on long, cold desert nights when the sun’s heat has vanished from the sand. Our campfires are how we bake the flatbread and the lamb that sustain us.”
“Fire does make me feel connected to everybody sitting around it with me.” The cackling flames were reflected in Jonathan’s contemplative eyes. “It even makes me feel connected to all the generations that have ever sat around fires, stretching back to the dawn of time.”
“Yes.” Ali nodded, pleased with his student’s self-revelation. “Fire links us to the past as well as to the future generations who will also use fire to survive and might tell stories of us. Now you see fire is creation and connection. Tell me, are you still scared of it?”
Jonathan paused before replying, “I respect it, but I don’t fear it.”
“Good. It wouldn’t due for the Voice to be afraid of fire.” Ali’s smile cracked like a pistachio. “After all, the fire isn’t just outside of us, but inside of us. Not just inside the Voice, but in all the Bazhir—in all people under the sky. The fire is the light and the knowledge blazing within all of us.”
The northern prince was wide-eyed, absorbing everything like a man desperate for water stumbling on an oasis and attempting to swallow it all in one great gulp.
“And if that light, that knowledge, goes out”—Ali’s smile dropped from his face as a veil of solemnity fell over it and he covered the flames with his hand, extinguishing them so that darkness descended upon the tent—“then we die. That is why it is the duty of the Voice to ensure that the fire of the Bazhir never is left untended and never burns out. When I die, when my fire burns out, that responsibility, that burden, will pass to you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Jonathan sounded serious, but Ali knew he couldn’t truly appreciate the magnitude of what he was promising until the ceremony that made him the Voice. He would have to be transformed into the Voice before he could understand the burden a Voice bore. That had been so for every Voice that ever lived and breathed before him. It was a legacy that would never be interrupted as long as there were Voices.