BOOK I: The Reign of Good King Amorian: A Myth

    
 Amorian went out into the warm, sunny afternoon enjoying the  walk through Esagila’s impressive city square with its neatly shaped geometric structures built with cut stone in colors from deep ochre through shades of brown and easing to soft golden hues.  The square was covered with paving stones and the roof tops all supported green gardens.  He crossed the square to the park and then walked passed beds of brightly blooming flowers to a residential area of one story homes made out of the same colored stone as the buildings on the square and arranged around inner courtyards with rooftop gardens and skylights.

Muscular and handsome in the traditional male dress of the Esagilian culture; loose fitting pull on trousers and one piece pull over shirts of unbleached cotton cloth, he caught the eye of many young girls who prodded their parents to arrange a marriage.  The women wore long slender gowns of the same material and though it was frowned on many men and women adorned their attire with intricate needlework.  Too much vanity was distained in the Esagilian culture as were high buildings or anything thought to do with pride.  The culture had gone through the Darkness because of too much pride. 

Amorian stepped into the atrium of his childhood home hoping his little brother was there tonight. He could smell the weekly Observance Day Eve dinner being prepared and smiled with pleasure.  His mother was a very proper woman and fulfilled all of her duties as determined by the Officiate.    

“Mother,” Amorian said and kissed her on the cheek.

“Amorian, I’m happy to see you,” she said and poured him a glass of nectar.”

 “Where is Benjamin, mother?  School was over two hours ago.”

She looked flustered, “He has been a bit withdrawn since your father’s death,” she said, “When I ask him who he has been with, Benjamin says he was alone, walking in the park.”

“How are his grades mother?”

She sat down at the table with Amorian and said, “I’m afraid his grades are slipping too,” she said, placing her hand on his. 

“We must do something before he ruins his life,” Amorian said. 

Benjamin’s mother said, “You must speak to him in his father’s place,” she said, “Handing Amorian the key to their home.”

“Are you sure it is time for this, Mother?” he asked.

“He is drawing attention to himself at school,” Amorian’s mother said, “And not for his good work,” she added.  “Benjamin needs a father’s hand now and you are our head of household.”

“I will speak to him mother,” Amorian said and went to his father’s office to think about what he should say to his little brother.  The office was a Spartan room with neatly arranged books and a desk opening on to the inner courtyard.  Amorian knew that their legacy as Officiates was limiting but it was an inherited office of great prestige and they didn’t have a choice.  

Amorian thought about his little brother who had been drawing buildings since he was a small boy.  Beautiful buildings but Amorian often wondered if they were too vain; large, tall and pretentious. And so very beautiful with fountains and inner courts decorated with symbols and plants.  Against teaching, he wondered?

This time he would appeal to his brother’s good sense and if the trouble continued he would have to place strictures on Benjamin’s behavior. He loved his brother as did his mother and Benjamin was important to them. 

Amorian and his mother went ahead with dinner without Benjamin and Amorian sent a message back to the communal hall where he was receiving training for the first year of the Officiate saying that there was trouble at home and he would be late or absent from tonight’s ceremonies. His mother needed his presence for comfort.    

The next day he went back to the Officiate and spoke with his counselor.  “Sir, my mother is upset, as am I because my little brother is taking my father’s death rather hard and having problems adjusting to life without him,” Amorian said.  I need a short leave to solve the situation now that my mother has turned the household keys over to me,” he said.

“Your mother has turned the household keys over to you?” the Counselor asked.

Amorian showed him the key hanging on a simple chain around his neck, “She may retire to the country if all goes well,” he said.

“Are you aware of your mother’s activities, catechumen?”   

“My mother, what are you talking about?” he asked.

“She has been having an affair with an emissary for years and neglects your brother.”

“What?” Amorian asked.

“We didn’t want to burden you in your first year of studies,” the counselor said, “You do very well and we have high hopes for you.”

“But I am responsible for my family,” he said.

“Now that you are head of household, we of the Officiate offer our full cooperation and responsibility for the problem if you turn your head of household duties over to us.”

“But I must fulfill my duties,” he pleaded.

“Amorian, you are relieved of duty in that small matter because of your value to the Officiate,” the counselor said.

“But counselor, my father fulfilled his duties to me, now I must try with my brother,” Amorian said.

“Sleep on this, Amorian, here is the report on your mother and brother,” the counselor said.   

The next day Amorian walked home again and asked his mother, “Is it true about Thesus?”

She bowed her head, “It has been true about Thesus since I was a young girl,” she admitted. 

“And what did my father think?” Amorian asked. 

“We had an arranged marriage and we had both already given our hearts,” his mother said, “Benjamin realized more than you saw,” she conceded.

“And all three of you lived a life beyond my ken?” Amorian stated.

“You’ve always been so absorbed by your duties, son, people don’t interest you as much as the teachings.”

Startled he rose from his chair, “Mother, you speak as a questioner.”

“Amorian, I speak as a woman past her prime who has managed to fulfilled her duty and live her personal dreams as did your father. Your father and I made sure you were well brought up and given the traditions and the teachings.”

“Mother, I am astonished!” he said.

“Benjamin came into the room from his wanderings, “Brother, welcome to the party.  Better late than never,” Benjamin said.

Amorian remained standing, “I cannot believe this utter disregard for the traditions and teachings in my own home,” he said.   

“It is more common than you think, Amorian, many people make these adjustments to the life,” she said, not realizing that Amorian was as naive as all of that at his age.

Amorian left his house and quickly stalked back to the communal hall to think out this astonishing development.  His family had parted ways with the teachings and maybe even his father was a non-believer.  That alone cast doubt on the purity of his own lineage and dedication to the Officiate.

He found a message from his Counselor when he reached his lodgings in the communal hall and he immediately went to the counselor’s office and found him there with a magistrate. 

“Amorian?” the Counselor asked, “Are you now ready to default your duties to the Officiate as a better qualified judiciary?”

“I can’t see any other choice, Counselor.  They don’t even deny their guilt,” he said.

The magistrate took out the proper papers and the counselor signed and handed them to Amorian. 

Amorian read the papers and despite his misgivings signed them immediately.  His birth family clearly questioned the teachings, now he must become a child of the state to retain his own lineage and purity.

“May they, farewell,” Amorian said as he signed with a flourish.

“Do you need time off?” the counselor asked.

“I wish to complete my forty days of solitary time as scheduled,” Amorian said, “I need the cleansing now, more than ever.”

“If you ever become confused about the issues, please come to me immediately,” the counselor said.

“I’m afraid the family is confused, Counselor, not me,” he said, and then asked for permission to meditate.

“Of course, my son,” the Counselor said.

It was late in the year 199 following the escape from Darkness into the Restoration of Order and Rebirth of Life. Soon Amorian would ‘walk the path’ with his fellow catechumen and live a solitary life for forty days and nights to cleanse himself for service to the Order of Life just as his father did before him. 

When he returned from his solitary time at the end of forty days and nights it would be time for the annual festival but this time they were celebrating the 200^th year of the Restoration.  It would be a joyful time and the town had already begun to liven as the festival approached, soon every room in the small city-state would be filled with the country folk who were part of this city-state by their lineage and supplied the town with produce, grains, eggs and milk products.  Many country women and city women would cook special dishes to sell in the streets giving ten percent to those in need or to the Officiates for the communal halls of the poor. 

The city was without crime and no one need fear as long as their city-state continued to adhere to the Restoration of Order.  The others who could not seem to restrain themselves from interfering with the orderly population were escorted into exile by the Enforcement Officiates while the poor were fed and sheltered and their children given a rudimentary education for service to the community as clerks and maintenance personnel, so none were denied the right to move from the poor into the service community and eventually afford shelters of their own. Some of the poor worked in the country during the fall harvest to supply their basic personal needs and population was strictly controlled so that all ate and had the minimum necessities as well as the state sponsored gardens, training, and health care. 

Amorian remained alone that evening remembering happier days when he was a young boy with his family and new baby brother.  He always thought that they were a typical Esagilian family living according to the light of the rebirth.  Were aberrants as common as his mother implied?  Enough he told himself, they have fashioned their own destiny and now I must return to my destiny.  They would probably be sent into exile with their share of the estate and it was hoped that they would fare well in the chaos of life away from the light of rebirth. They had deserted the light, the light had not deserted them and he could not change facts to suit himself.

The next morning Amorian rejoined his fellow catechumen to prepare for the solitary time.  He worked hard and his scholarship was evident and now it was time for the forty days and nights to test his temperament for the work of an Officiate.  His character must be as pure as his mind. 

The great day finally dawned and the catechumen, carrying knapsacks walked together from the Communal Hall in the Square to the edge of town quietly observed by the solemn population of the city-state.  They slipped from town just as the sun rose above the mountains and bathed the city-state in its warmth and light.

Amorian’s stride lengthened as they left the city and walked through the countryside enjoying the neatly plowed fields and cozy little wooden homes that the farmers lived in.  It was a good illustration of continuity under the practices of the Restoration.  The farmer’s father and his father before him and soon his sons would operate the farm and be producers for the city-state.  The beauty and orderliness of the farms reflected the orderliness of the system.  All would fare well and flourish. 

Soon there were fewer farms and they stopped for their second night, each spaced away from the other and on their own. Amorian enjoyed the quiet of the night and thought he began to hear a little scurrying in the night as he lay rolled up in his blanket looking at the stars.  His food should be gone at the same time they hit real wilderness if he had reckoned correctly.  He felt well and at peace in the quiet of the night.  When Amorian came to the wilderness he left his knapsack in a tree and continued to walk for another full day to distance himself even more from his fellow catechumen.  He wanted to make this a real test to give himself courage for trying times and cleanse himself of worry about his roots now that he knew the truth.

The mountains here were huge and roughly shaped; unsoften by erosion, the lines sharp and distinct while the colors were harsh and unrelenting as the sun was unforgiving during the day and the cold and dark were at night. He could not find a soft place to rest so he took a rock for a pillow and tossed and turned on the rocky ground shivering as the wind came up and increased his discomfort.  He could hear the wind wailing through the canyons as the sound of many voices raised in sorrow. He slept very little and wished for food and water in the morning when the sun brought blinding light and heat. 

He wandered the first day seeking a better place to sleep and found nothing soft or comfortable in the wilderness and his night was again accompanied by the wailing of the voices of sorrow.  He began to think of his own, now lost childhood and he began to feel the sorrow of all of the voices.  He caught himself softly wailing with the voices as he sat on the hard ground hugging his knees.  He wept over his father’s death and wonder where he was now but mostly he felt the wretchedness of the voices and his own and their sorrow. 

The next night he began to think of his own future when the voices began to wail.  Would he ever marry and have children?  Somehow his life seemed spread out before him empty and featureless.  His unrestrained sorrow could be heard among the wailing voices that night as he lay weeping.  Had his mother and father given their hearts?  Would his mother’s life have been empty and featureless without Thesus?  He missed his mother and brother and wondered at his mother’s observation that he had more understanding of the teachings than he did care for the people.  Now he understood sorrow from the voices in the wilderness and the cries inside of himself.   

The next morning he rose with new determination.  His feelings would right themselves as soon as he returned to his real life.  The sorrow didn’t really exist it was his own inner reflection and his sadness and guilt about his mother and Benjamin but he had taken the only course open to him.  There would be no voices tonight because he knew they were distortions caused by his hunger and lack of sleep.

And true to his analysis the voices of sorrow didn’t call out to him the next night but instead the voices of young, merry women sang to beguile him. The happy voices called out for him leave his path and dally with them.  He woke or came back to reality when he stumbled into a ravine and fell.  He was covered with scratches and bruises.  Was he fleeing something or pursuing something.  His mind couldn’t make sense out of it and he tried to concentrate on what he learned about dehydration and hunger.  He was delirious and could no longer think from one point to the next as he had learned in his classes. 

He wander the ravine and heard a delightful sound in the distance, the sound of a waterfall and he followed the sound and saw green and shade ahead of him.  As he drew near the soft, green, oasis he saw a maiden with long hair sitting on a rock beside the pool at the bottom of the falls. She stood and went to a basket for a cloth to spread on the soft grass in the glade and set out food, taking a cool bottle of nectar from the pool. She was humming softly to herself as he drew near.

He moved closer and felt himself react physically to the young woman.  She was beautiful with alabaster skin and hair as gold as the most golden stone while her eyes reflected the deep-blue green of the pool. He watched breathless as she removed her clothing and moved slowly into the pool, splashing playfully and singing colorful glass notes that stayed in the air around her like jewels.  

Before Amorian could make up his mind his body was striding passed the food and nectar and he stood in the glade beside the pool with the lovely maiden.  She looked up and smiled at him, raising her hand toward him from the pool.  

Unnerved he asked, “Who are you?”

“I am Leah,” she said, “Welcome Amorian, sit, eat,” she spread her arm out to the picnic.

“How do you know my name?” he asked. 

“I came to meet you, Amorian, we are destined,” she said.

He tried to pull himself away and it was like fighting gravity over an open chasm. 

She threw her shift on and sat to pour him a glass of nectar and reached up to hand it to him. Their eyes locked and slowly Amorian reached down and took the nectar then dropped to the ground to sit beside her. He reached out to touch her hair and it was real, she was real. He sipped the nectar and it was a delicate, frothy peach and he knew it would be the taste of her skin.

He looked up and then around to see if this was the stuff of theatre.  His eye could detect no flaw, it was real enough.  He took the plate she handed him and asked, “Where are you from Leah?”  

“From here now,” she said, “Before this I was from another place.”

“Which city-state?” he asked.

“Oh,” she was amused, “Not from a city-state at all.  From a country,” she replied, “Very far away,” she added.

  Amorian tensed, “What is it that amuses you?” he asked.

“I am not amused with you, Amorian, I am a bit tongue tied because if I used every word in my vocabulary I would never be able to explain where I am from to you.  But I can tell you that I am here as a test; to make a choice, just as you are.”

She looked down and he heard the voices of sorrow to the depths of his soul.  He reached out to her and she leaned in against his chest folded into the protection of his strong arms.  They made love that day in the glade and when he woke Amorian was back in the ravine with cuts and scratches listening to the voices of sorrow wail in the night.  Leah he moaned in the dark seeing emptiness stretched out before him, bleak, cold, emptiness.

  He woke shivering and back in his own mind before wailing voices and beautiful maidens with food and drink began to fill his thoughts. Crazy dreams.  He would start back home tomorrow and forget it as all catechumen probably do. Yet that night he lay in the dark moaning her name to the moon and stars. 

When he reached the spot the next day where he must choose for home or the glade his mind hardened and he choose home and order over delirium and delusion.  He reached the outskirts of Esagilia on the forty first day and was startled, he had forgotten the festival.  Everyone one was shouting that the Officiate had fallen and he was assured by all he spoke to that it was true, the Officiate had fallen.  He wound his way through the crowded streets to his home where he bathed and slept in the softness of his own room. Yet he heard the voices of sorrow, even here in Esagilia, his city-state.  Hearing the sounds of festival he dressed to walk to the square and the center of the celebration but the going was too crowded and he stopped and bought food at a booth and sat on a bench eating. 

He was thirsty and looked for a nectar stand and that was when he saw her.  He waited behind three others and finally she reached out to hand him a glass of nectar.  Their eyes met but hers veered off in non-recognition and he decided that this time he was the one who would have to explain who he was and how he knew her name.  He sipped the frothy peach nectar and watched her until dawn gathering all of the information that he could about her and then, when the streets were less crowded, he made his way to the Officiate.

When he reached the building all was heedless activity with no plan, no goal, and no leader.  Slowly with much time and effort he took command of the situation and announced that as the only returning Catechumen he was the rebirth embodied and therefore, their first King. Thus began the reign of King Amorian and his long search to find Leah his Queen and mother of his heir. He was a good leader much loved by his people and noted for his wisdom but at night he listen to the voices of sorrow and waited for his Leah.

“Fare well and flourish,” Karen MacEanruig, September 2013