Date: June 29, 1998
Place: The Rialto - Haven
Cast: Red-Tail, Zsosa
Scene: A Varati priestess and a graisha Sylvan get into a debate about religion.

Winter doesn't find the Varati matron in a very happy state. Actually, she seems downright upset as she has to shuffle through the cold air and freezing topsoil beneath her shoed feet. She seems to be making her way to a fabric booth in the heart of the Rialto.

As it happens, Red-Tail is sitting on a nearby bench enjoying the cool air. She watches the woman through half-closed eyes.

As she passes the graisha, Zsosa's nose wrinkles, as if smelling the air around a skunk. No one told her the difference between a fox and a skunk. She mutters beneath her breath and moves further towards the fabric booth, complaining, "Damnable weather we're having."

Red-Tail chuckles dryly and speaks up loud enough for the complaining woman to hear. "Only weak people live in building complain about cold. Winter as important as Spring." Her gaze follows Zsosa's passage.

How dare the skunk speak to me? The words needn't be said, they're as clear as the look upon Zsosa's face. She whips her head around to glare at the woman, saying, "In our esteemed homelands, there is no winter, and life is better."

Red-Tail smiles and brings her tail around the front of her body to make it more prominent, and caresses it softly. "But if no winter thing need die no die and no make room for new thing." Something in her voice hints at a deeper meaning, or it might just be the odd Sylvan accent.

Turning towards the booth with a shrug, Zsosa says, "Things die when they die. Winter doesn't kill. When breath leaves the body, it may be winter or spring."

Red-Tail nods. "Yes. But only weak people complain about cold. If cold wear more warm clothes. If hot wear less. Earth Mother make world way is. Red-Tail no know why but know Grandmother make world best way." The smile remains on the graisha's face.

The Priestess rolls her eyes and questions the fabric-seller on the length of red velvet before herself. After getting an answer, they argue, then agree on a price, and she moves away from him. She glances sidelong at the graisha. "It is not a complaint when it is the truth. Moreover, there are no weak Varati."

It's the graisha's turn to roll her eyes. "Weather is what is. No some weather good and some weather bad. All good because Great Mother and Sky Father give." Her voice becomes lighter and tinged with a bit of humor as her words turn to the Varati again. "All race have weak people. Even Sylvan. Woman just complain about what no can change. Weak."

The Varati matron chuckles, shaking her head. Her voice lowers a few decibels, noting her displeasure in the conversation. "I am not weak. I have a race and a culture. I have an army of men behind me. And the words I say bear weight. Do yours?"

Red-Tail nods and speaks with a voice of authority which, contrastingly, raises in volume. "Red-Tail say what Grandmother tell say. Can feel when words right and when words wrong. Red-Tail feel right words now. Army make strong? No, army make weak. Red-Tail do all can self. No let other person do what can do on own. That make strong person."

Folding her arms over her chest, the woman lets out a hearty laugh. "I never understand the candala. So idealistic, yet so misguided. And unfortunately, none can be converted to the true path." Zsosa shakes her head almost sadly. Almost.

Red-Tail tilts her head. "Woman follow man just because say god. Who wrong? Red-Tail know no wrong so woman must be wrong." Her tone is simply matter-of-fact. "No need worship god-king. Grandmother and Sky Father give all need."

"Your false gods shudder in the face of the Khalid." Words are said with such fervor, such knowledge on Zsosa's behalf, that she almost shakes as she speaks. "If your Grandmother were to walk on Aether, you would speak differently of gods."

Red-Tail chuckles and gives the priestess a wry smile. "You walk on Grandmother now." She may not be shaking but her tone is just as full of certainty. "And breathe in Sky Father with each breath."

Another shake of the head from Zsosa. "A god cannot be that which has nothing to say. The earth doesn't speak to the Varati."

Red-Tail again chuckles. "Earth ever move and shake mountain where Varati live? Ever make hole in ground? Water ever fall from sky? Lightning ever hit ground?" The graisha lets her tail fall back out of her lap and behind her as she stands. "Grandmother and Sky Father talk all time. Varati no listen."

"Silly child. Open your eyes." The matron speaks down to the graisha, as she should. The candala are far below the Atarvani caste. "It is Ashur Masad and Ushas quaking the earth and creating holes. It is their will that shapes the sky and water."

Red-Tail smiles widely up at the Varati. "Then Ashur Masad and Ushas are Earth Mother and Sky Father with different name." She laughs in genuine humor. "And Varati no can see."

"No. The candala cannot see." Zsosa shakes a finger at Red-Tail. "By worshipping the Ashur Masad and Ushas under different pretenses, the wrong pretenses, they are angered. And thus, the world does not live under the correct rule."

Red-Tail nods her head slowly. "Yes. Woman right. Exactly right." She then stands as still as a statue and stares into Zsosa's eyes.

Zsosa watches the fox for a moment, before turning away. "Of course I am right. I was not dubbed Priestess because I do not know how to worship."

Red-Tail calls after the priestess, "Woman priestess because no know how worship. All people can worship Great Mother and can hear her words. But only if want hear. No take special person to hear." She then turns and strides westward calmly.

There is no need to speak further with the graisha. Those that cannot grasp what the Priestess says and the way of the Varati are found by the thousand in Haven. Zsosa needn't waste any more time on the woman. She walks northward, cursing the cold ground at every step.

FIN  

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