(no subject)
Oct. 8th, 2007 09:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
uquars_gadgetAs her studies come to a close, and her decision draws nearer she asks that she might take part in the duties of the acolytes, to see what of the things she is deciding between she will do.
The first day she sits and copies words written long ago—then rewritten, then rewritten, so that the book she is copying from is in an acolyte’s hand of only eighty years past—onto crisp pages with the other four acolytes and three of the hands in the room. She has done this before, but this time with each dipping into the pot of ink and each scratch, scratch against the page she tries to make herself think of doing this for four hours a day, every day, and she cannot. This is not how she will serve.
---
The second day Helen follows several acolytes—all older than her, one only to wait until the next day of Light before becoming a Hand—between the fences and through several courtyards to the small storage building that they open the door of carefully before unlatching to covering on the floor and calling down.
“Is there a Hand below?” The eldest of the acolytes calls out. Below there is the sound of rushing water and Helen shivers, slightly. She’s never been to the water source before—she is only just old enough to be allowed.
The others give her small, assessing looks and she straightens, hair falling into her eyes.
“Who wishes to come to the source?” A voice echoes back up, sounding distant.
“Those seeking to quench the world’s thirst,” The acolyte calls back, with the tired familiar tone of the young with the ceremonial words. “Would it please you to send up the ladder?”
It apparently does, and Helen spends the rest of the day down in the purifying rooms, cleaning those water supplies that will be consumed by the people and animals of the House with chemical processes.
If she had managed to make a mistake, with all of the wary eyes of the acolytes and the Hand on her, she would have decided to serve here to keep her honor intact. She does not, and it is with an imperious posture that she leaves that place, quite certain that unless she is forced she will not return.
---
The third day she repairs a wall under the sun, and a couple of the farm children try to make conversation with her. She shows them her arm, though, and feels obscurely satisfied when the girl shrieks and they avoid her.
But with all of the shadowed looks she does not think she will serve here, either.
The first day she sits and copies words written long ago—then rewritten, then rewritten, so that the book she is copying from is in an acolyte’s hand of only eighty years past—onto crisp pages with the other four acolytes and three of the hands in the room. She has done this before, but this time with each dipping into the pot of ink and each scratch, scratch against the page she tries to make herself think of doing this for four hours a day, every day, and she cannot. This is not how she will serve.
---
The second day Helen follows several acolytes—all older than her, one only to wait until the next day of Light before becoming a Hand—between the fences and through several courtyards to the small storage building that they open the door of carefully before unlatching to covering on the floor and calling down.
“Is there a Hand below?” The eldest of the acolytes calls out. Below there is the sound of rushing water and Helen shivers, slightly. She’s never been to the water source before—she is only just old enough to be allowed.
The others give her small, assessing looks and she straightens, hair falling into her eyes.
“Who wishes to come to the source?” A voice echoes back up, sounding distant.
“Those seeking to quench the world’s thirst,” The acolyte calls back, with the tired familiar tone of the young with the ceremonial words. “Would it please you to send up the ladder?”
It apparently does, and Helen spends the rest of the day down in the purifying rooms, cleaning those water supplies that will be consumed by the people and animals of the House with chemical processes.
If she had managed to make a mistake, with all of the wary eyes of the acolytes and the Hand on her, she would have decided to serve here to keep her honor intact. She does not, and it is with an imperious posture that she leaves that place, quite certain that unless she is forced she will not return.
---
The third day she repairs a wall under the sun, and a couple of the farm children try to make conversation with her. She shows them her arm, though, and feels obscurely satisfied when the girl shrieks and they avoid her.
But with all of the shadowed looks she does not think she will serve here, either.
