update from sparkleup
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<p>The skin around the old monk’s eyes crinkled in a smile and he patted the mat next to him. “Please, young one, sit.”</p>
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<p>The cat did so, settling down cross-legged with their bowl of steamed dumpling-filling and buttered tea. They smoothed out their deel, removed their cap, and popped a meatball into their mouth, chewing thoughtfully and waiting for the monk to begin talking as he always did.</p>
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<p>“Tell me, Belek, where will you travel next?”</p>
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<p>They swallowed their mouthful before giving a noncommittal shrug. “Perhaps I will head North. I once worked for an empire wheelwright for a month. They are very skilled, and usually one must apprentice for years before working as one, but this man’s apprentice was a– well,” the cat leaned in conspiratorially. “He was one of the men who shifted.”</p>
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<p>The monk nodded solemnly. “I know of these only through tales. Was he as dreadful as they say, young Oorzhak?”</p>
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<p>Belek’s tail tick-tocked in amusement before adding in the more human smile. “Very few of them are terrible, grandfather, but sometimes they do not shift well and wind up mad with rage or stuck in agony. This young apprentice wound up in the latter, so he begged a sword from a friend and fell on it.”</p>
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<p>They swallowed their mouthful before giving a noncommittal shrug. “Perhaps I will head North. I once worked for an empire wheelwright for a month. They are very skilled, and usually one must apprentice for years before working as one, but this man’s apprentice was a– well,” the cat leaned in conspiratorially. “He is no longer human. He is probably no longer among the living.”</p>
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<p>The monk nodded solemnly. “I know of these shifters-of-shape only through tales. It is a curse, I have read in our books. A curse, or a demon bound to small statues or fetishes. Was he as dreadful as they say, young Oorzhak?”</p>
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<p>Belek’s tail tick-tocked behind them in amusement before they remembered to add the more human smile. “Very few of them are terrible, grandfather, but sometimes they do not shift well and wind up mad with rage or stuck in agony. This young apprentice wound up in the latter, so he begged a sword from a friend and fell on it.”</p>
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<p>The monk covered his mouth, aghast. “His soul! His soul will wander forever.”</p>
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<p>Nodding sadly, the cat finished another few meatballs before continuing. “This wheelwright, he was crushed, both emotionally and with his labor. While I could do nothing to help him of his loss of a friend, I was at least able to run the treadle of his lathe and carry wood for him. The empire does not care for my kind, and many find us untrustworthy - I think because we do not have the same faces and expressions as them - but some in the north have kind souls, as do you here at the monastery.”</p>
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<p>Nodding sadly, the cat finished another few meatballs before continuing. “This wheelwright, he was crushed, both emotionally and with his labor. While I could do nothing to help him of his loss of a friend, I was at least able to run the treadle of his lathe and carry wood for him. The empire does not care for my kind, and many find us untrustworthy — I think because we do not have the same faces and expressions as them — but some in the north have kind souls, as you do here at the monastery.”</p>
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<p>The monk paused while rolling a ball of tsampa to smile widely at Belek.</p>
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<p>“He could not pay me much, but he gifted me a fine awl. It was well worn, of course, and he had taken delivery of a much finer replacement during my stay, but he was a generous man. Perhaps I shall find such generosity up there again.” The seed was planted. Before the monk could respond, however, Belek, pulled the conversation suddenly in another direction. “You said ‘his soul will wander,’ grandfather. What did you mean?”</p>
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<p>The monk chewed thoughtfully, then washed the tsampa down with water. “Some walk in dream even while awake. When they die, we say their soul will walk still in dreams. Some, however, walk in unceasing nightmare. Perhaps, when they die, that is when they wake up, but should they take their own lives, their soul cannot awake, and will continue to wander forever, living in a nightmare. They become demons or wicked spirits.”</p>
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<p>The monk chewed thoughtfully, then washed the tsampa down with water. “Some walk in dream even while awake. When they die, we say their soul will walk still in dreams. Some, however, walk in unceasing nightmare. Perhaps, when they die, that is when they wake up. But should they take their own lives, their soul cannot awake, and will continue to wander forever, living in a nightmare. They become demons or wicked spirits. Perhaps even those same demons of which our books speak.”</p>
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<hr />
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<p>After a week of work, the direction of scrolls, books, and manuscripts began to reverse. The cataloging complete, Belek began hauling loads of materials back into the library, helping the younger monks to place them back on their shelves according to some system the old monk - the cat supposed he must be the librarian - held within his head. There was a small celebration when the last of the shelves was emptied, and the monks pulled out thin beer, sparing a small lump of sugar for Belek to add to their tea in lieu. From then on, it was a task of re-loading the library and finishing the last mending of mats.</p>
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<p>Three days later, and the work was finished.</p>
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<p>After a week of work, the direction of scrolls, books, and manuscripts began to reverse. The cataloging had been completed and Belek began hauling loads of materials back into the library, helping the younger monks to place them back on their shelves according to some system the old monk — the cat supposed he must be the librarian — held within his head. There was a small celebration when the last of the shelves was emptied, and the monks pulled out thin beer, sparing a small lump of sugar for Belek to add to their tea in lieu. From then on, it was a task of re-loading the library and finishing the last mending of mats.</p>
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<p>Three days later, the work was finished.</p>
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<p>“Grandfather, I thank you again for the kindness you have showed, and for the chance to work here,” Belek said while fingering the spines of a few books. “I have never been surrounded by such knowledge in my life”</p>
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<p>The old monk nodded absently as he worked on filling in some final notes. “Thank you, young Oorzhak. You have shortened our labor by days.”</p>
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<p>Still running their fingerpad along the spines of books, the cat paused, feeling a sudden chill against the coarse skin there. They hesitated, then carefully drew the leather-bound book from the shelf. It was not just cool, but cold. Actively cold, as though it strived to be so. They could read the language of the empire - slowly, to be sure - but the writing on the cover of the book was of some other tongue.</p>
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<p>Still running their fingerpad along the spines of books, the cat paused, feeling a sudden chill against their coarse skin. They hesitated, then carefully drew the leather-bound book from the shelf. It was not just cool, but cold. Actively cold, as though it strived to be so. They could read the language of the empire — slowly, to be sure — but the writing on the cover of the book was of some other tongue.</p>
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<p>“Belek.”</p>
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<p>The cat jolted and whirled around. The voice had seemed to come from the book itself, an echo or a whisper or perhaps only the suggestion of a voice, but there was the old monk staring at them, a strange glean in their eye. “My apologies, grandfather, I-“</p>
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<p>The cat jolted and whirled around. The voice had seemed to come from the book itself, an echo or a whisper or perhaps only the suggestion of a voice, but there was the old monk staring at them, a strange gleam in his eye. </p>
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<p>“My apologies, grandfather, I–“</p>
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<p>“You have done such wonderful work for us, young one, would you accept this book in exchange for your labor? In addition to your wages, of course.”</p>
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<p>The cat blinked. There were other books they had their eye on. Gilt, illuminated, fancy ones. Still, now that they held this one in their hands and they were growing used to the cold weight of it, there was suddenly nothing more precious. “Surely this book is too much,” they stammered.</p>
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<p>“You have provided us with a service,” the monk said. His voice was eager, his brown skin stretched perhaps a little too tight with some hidden exertion. “Please, I would be honored if you would accept this small tome of knowledge in exchange.”</p>
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<p>Belek bowed low, finding themself unable to say anything other than, “I accept.”</p>
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<p>The words were stilted, unnatural. They felt oily in their mouth, leaving behind a thin sheen of premonition. They hung in the air, vibrating with anticipation.</p>
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<p>The cat blinked. There were other books they had their eye on. Gilt, illuminated, fancy ones. Small enough to smuggle, pretty enough to sell. Still, now that they held this one in their hands and they were growing used to the cold weight of it, there was suddenly nothing more precious. “Surely this book is too much,” they stammered.</p>
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<p>“You have provided us with a service,” the monk said. His voice was eager, now. Excited. His brown skin stretched perhaps a little too tight across his brow in some hidden exertion. “Please, I would be honored if you would accept this small tome of knowledge in exchange.”</p>
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<p>Belek bowed low, finding themself unable to say anything other than, “I accept freely.”</p>
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<p>How did they know what to say? The words were stilted, unnatural. They felt oily in their mouth, leaving behind a thin sheen of premonition. They hung in the air, vibrating with anticipation. Where had they come from? How did they bear such ritual weight?</p>
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<p>The old monk gripped the edge of a lectern by which he had been standing. His expression was beyond tense, now. His skin was taut, his eyes overwide, his gaze wandering beyond sanity.</p>
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<p>“I, Otgonbayar, give this book to you, Belek Oorzhak, in free exchange. It is now yours.”</p>
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<p>The monk’s equally stilted words clashed with Belek’s in the air, and suddenly, the book began to warm in the cat’s paws. There was a scent of ritual to the exchange, of power of choice and bargain and deals accepted. Deals beyond just a gift to go with one’s wages.</p>
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<p>The monk’s equally stilted words clashed with Belek’s in the air. They rang together like bells, tolled some untold hour, twined around each other, then around Belek, and suddenly, the book began to warm in the cat’s paws. There was a scent of ritual, a tang of omen, a whiff of power of choice and bargain and deals accepted. Deals beyond just a gift to go with one’s wages.</p>
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<p>And then the moment passed.</p>
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<p>“I must…I must rest, young Oorzhak. I thank you once more for your labor. Your wages…your wages will be in the refectory… Ah, preserve my soul.” If the monk had looked crazed before, now he looked truly on the verge of madness. His eyes no longer tracked Belek, but seemed to be reading something written on the ceiling. His muscles are rigid. Sweat stood on his brow, and spittle clung to his chin.</p>
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<p>“I must…I must rest, young one. I thank you once more for your labor. Your wages…your wages will be in the refectory… Ah, preserve my soul.” If the monk had looked crazed before, now he looked truly on the verge of madness. His eyes no longer tracked Belek, but seemed to be reading something written on the ceiling. His muscles were rigid. Sweat stood on his brow, and spittle clung to his chin.</p>
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<p>“I…yes, grandfather,” Belek mumbled. “You look unwell. Please rest well, and perhaps I shall see you again soon.</p>
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<p>The monk only moaned in response. After a moment’s silence, he toppled to the floor, falling as would a tree, rather than crumpling.</p>
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<p>Belek skittered from the library and down the long hall towards where the other old monks were packing up their pens and scrolls.</p>
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<p>The monk only moaned in response. After a moment’s silence, he toppled to the floor, falling stiff, as would a tree, rather than crumpling.</p>
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<p>Belek yelped, then skittered from the library and down the long hall towards the scriptorium where the other monks were packing up their pens and scrolls.</p>
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<p>“The old monk!” they shouted. “He has fallen in the library!”</p>
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<p>The other monks dropped their materials and lept to their feet, hollering. One of them dashed up to the cat and opened his mouth to speak before noticing the book clutched in their paws. His look of worry turned into one of dawning horror, then of sadness. “I see you two reached a deal.”</p>
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<p>Dumbstruck, Belek looked down at the book, then back up to the scribe, holding out the book. “He offered me this in exchange for my efforts. If he was mistaken-“</p>
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<p>The monk shook his head and pressed the book forcefully back into the cat’s paws. “The deal has been made. Your wages are in the refectory, please take them and your belongings and leave.”</p>
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<p>“Leave? But I-“</p>
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<p>The other monks dropped their materials and leapt to their feet, hollering. One of them dashed up to the cat and opened his mouth to speak before noticing the book clutched in their paws. His look of worry turned into one of dawning horror, then of sadness. “I see you two reached a deal.”</p>
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<p>Dumbstruck, Belek looked down at the book, then back up to the scribe, holding out the book. “He offered me this in exchange for my efforts. If he was mistaken–“</p>
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<p>The monk quickly shook his head and pressed the book forcefully back into their paws. “The deal has been made. Your wages are in the refectory, please take them and your belongings and leave.”</p>
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<p>“Leave? But I–“</p>
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<p>“Leave. The monastery thanks you for your work but you must leave at once. You must be away by nightfall. Perhaps the librarian shall recover, then.” And with that, the monk rushed off.</p>
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<p>Belek stumbled numbly to the refectory and picked up the small bag of coins left atop their cap and cloak. The whole monastery seemed to be rushing to the library, and suddenly the advice to leave seemed extraordinarily prudent. They ran to the dormitory to shoulder their pack, and were on the road away from the monastery before the sun began its long, slow decent toward evening.</p>
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<p>They bivouacked in the lee of a patch of scrub and it was by the rude light of a small, dry fire that they read the book. They did not rightly know why they decided to remove the book from their pack and opened the cover. Perhaps it was another whispered ‘Belek’, and perhaps it was something more akin to a compulsion.</p>
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<p>More, they did not know how they were able to read the book. The language, when they focused their eyes, was not one that they could read, but were they to let their eyes drift just out of focus, the meaning came to them. It came in waves, in gusts, in inexorable currents. It washed over Belek and left their stomach rolling and their eyes watering.</p>
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<p>Belek stumbled numbly to the refectory and picked up the small bag of coins left atop their cap and cloak. The whole monastery seemed to be rushing to the library, and suddenly the advice to leave seemed extraordinarily prudent. They continued on to the dormitory where the rest of their belongings lay, shouldered their pack, and were on the road away from the monastery before the sun began its long, slow decent toward evening.</p>
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<p>They bivouacked in the lee of a patch of scrub and it was by the rude light of a small, dry fire that they read the book that was their gift. They did not rightly know why they decided to remove the book from their pack and open the cover. Perhaps it was another whispered ‘Belek’, and perhaps it was something more akin to a compulsion.</p>
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<p>More, they did not know how they were able to read the book. The language, when they focused their eyes, was not one that they knew, but were they to let their eyes drift just out of focus, the meaning came to them. It came in waves, in gusts, in inexorable currents. It washed over Belek and left their stomach rolling and their eyes watering.</p>
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<p>At the turning of the final page, there sounded a distant blast of horns, a low, sustained note from the direction they had come.</p>
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<p>“Belek,” came the voice, now more than simply echo. “Do you hear that, Belek? The horns to announce the death of a monk. What better way to forget me than through death?”</p>
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<p>The cat could manage no more than a groan. The meaning of the text was clear.</p>
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<p>“Belek,” came the voice, now more than simply echo. “Do you hear that, Belek? Horns to announce the death of a monk. What better way to forget than through death?”</p>
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<p>“F-forget?”</p>
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<p>“Belek, you read my words, you remember. I am with you, now. You are mine, now. So long as you remember me, I will live within you.” The whisper of words had slipped into a silky purr. “And you will never forget me.”</p>
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<p>The cat could manage no more than a retch and a groan. They could not force themself to unbelieve the book’s words. The truth wrapped itself around them, tightened, squeezed. The meaning of the text was clear. They would never forget.</p>
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<p>“Belek, Belek, Belek. The deal has been made.”</p>
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<p>“I’m…I am a drifter,” they muttered. “I walk the steppes for work. What could I possibly hope to offer, lord?”</p>
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<p>“The deal has been made,” the presence between the pages purred. “And now you will go North.”</p>
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<p>“I’m…I am a drifter,” they gasped. “I walk the steppes for work. What could I possibly hope to offer, lord?”</p>
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<p>“The deal has been made,” the presence between the pages repeated, comforting in the most unnerving of ways. “And now you will go North.”</p>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2023-04-10</p>
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