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by Thekherham on Thu Jul 22, 2010 10:34 pm
I don’t know why it is that sometimes I go long stretches between entries; I don’t really have a good excuse I can come up with, and I’m not even going to try.
So let’s see what’s been happening over the last twenty-one days. But before I do that I want to finish the saga I started way back on Brhe’ălhachyzh 19th (and I just realized that was almost two months ago). As I look back at the previous chapters, I noticed that I have spread out the telling of this event over several chapters. Which means, I suppose, that the event has a great significance in our lives.
As you must realize by now, Krysa Rhona’s predictions can be changed. My family and I, and the Dhoren family, and my brother and his family are all safe and sound, so the question is: Was Krysa Rhona that far off in her predictions? That seems rather unusual, because all of her previous predictions have come true.
Here is the rest of our adventure: When we reached the town of Frešherod, the first thing I did was look up my brother and his family. Temžărhen and Brhenha greeted me warmly. Arhodin and his whistling dragon, Khašhanha, were hovering nearby, but Lhorhan, and Drelha were in Temžărhen’s and ‘Hădholhaj’s chambers respectively.
We had no time for idle chatter. According to Krysa’s prediction, soon after the ‘the sixteen’ rode into town, the destruction of the Tereskàdians and the whistling dragons would begin. It was then that I realized something. It was obvious that Krysa was talking about the bus, when she wrote about a ‘steel and glass conveyance’, but we had already changed that prediction when we left the bus at the side of the road and walked into town. Now, knowing we had changed that prediction, would the next predictions fall by the wayside, or would they still come to pass?
Temžărhen had said that the mayor of Frešherod would be the one responsible for the deaths of Tereskàdians ans whistling dragons. If I could somehow convince this Alharhanian not to murder any Tereskàdians, I could change more of Krysa’s predictions.
Do you realize, Khe’ăr said, that by changing Krysa’s predictions, the remainder of her predictions will have no merit?
Why didn’t someone think of this a long time ago? I asked.
Lheana looked a little worried, and I asked why. What if, she said, by changing something now, you won’t affect one of her future predictions in a negative way? I didn’t know how to answer that, but I sure wasn’t going to let the mayor of Frešherod murder any Tereskàdians.
All the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons were supposed to come to the Town Center, but a few were still holding out because, like Temžărhen, they were suspicious of the mayor’s intentions. I knew it wouldn’t be long before one of the mayor’s men came to check on this house to see if the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons had gone to the Town Center.
We are all going, I said.
We can’t, Rhelhea protested. We’ll all be killed.
I have an idea. Kykherhenha knew what my idea was, but I told her not to tell the other whistling dragons. If I failed we would all be dead; if I succeeded, I would change Krysa Rhona’s prediction once again, and further diminish her credibility.
I’m not going, Brhenha said, and Arhodin stood beside his mother, and clung to her fur.
What are you going to do? Lheana asked, looking at me.
I can’t tell you, I said. You have nothing to worry about. You are Alharhan.
I opened the door, just in time to see three Alharhanians walking toward the house. The one in front demanded to know why we weren’t at the Town Center yet, and I told him I didn’t live here, I was just visiting. He came closer, and studied me, and it made me feel very uncomfortable. He asked me my name, and I told him, and then he wanted to know if anyone else was visiting. I told him, my mate, and cubs, and the Alharhanian family we were staying with in Treskebhar. He leaned closer, and said in a low voice, Leave town now.
I asked him if he had read Krysa Rhona’s book, and he told me he didn’t have time to read. Do you know the mayor of this town plans to murder all the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons? He told me again to leave town, to take my family, and our whistling dragons, and the Alharhanians, and get as far from here as possible. He looked past me, right at Temžărhen, and asked him to bring his family, and accompany him to the Town Center.
Does the mayor abuse Tereskàdians? I asked loudly, loud enough for the other two Alharhanians to hear. So what if he does? the closest one to me said. You are only animals; he can do what he likes.
The Tereskàdian Act states that if any Tereskàdian is abused in any manner whatsoever, the abuser shall be exiled for life on the planet Jhanhekhar. What gives this law teeth is the fact that no one – absolutely no one – is immune. Whether you are a pauper, a successful entrepreneur, a prince, a king, the Lord of all the universe, if you abuse a Tereskàdian, you will pay the penalty.
And the mayor of Frešherod was going to pay a penalty, but not the penalty that was in the law books.
When I told the others I intended to go to the Town Center, Rhalhea held on to my arm and begged me to do what the Alharhanian standing just outside the door had said and leave. Of course I couldn’t do that; I wasn’t about to see my brother’s life end. I would not leave, knowing that he and his family, and all the other Tereskàdians, and whistling dragons, were going to be murdered in cold blood.
I will see the mayor of Frešherod, I said. Everyone in this house will remain here until I return.
The Alharhanian thought about that for a moment, said he would accompany to the Town Center. He quietly told the other two to watch the house, in case the Tereskàdians who lived there were thinking of escaping, but had my hearing turned up, so I had no trouble listening in as he gave the order.
When we reached the Town Center, I noticed an Alharhanian standing on a platform, looking at the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons standing before him. He was tall, a good head taller than me, and his hair was a glistening black. His black beard was neatly trimmed. I thought of Krysa Rhona’s description, and I knew I was looking at the mayor of Frešherod.
Why do you want to murder the Tereskàdians? I shouted, interrupting whatever speech he was making.
He wanted to know who had asked that question, and I stepped forward. He asked my name, and I told him, mentioning Kykherhenha was well. She was standing beside me, and I could feel her trembling slightly.
He denied that he wanted to murder any Tereskàdians, and it was then that all the Tereskàdians standing before him sensed that he was lying. The stench of his lie was so strong that I had to take a few steps back, but I willed myself to move forward, and I approached the platform on which he stood, and climbed up and faced him.
Are you familiar with the Tereskàdian Act? I asked.
In answer, he spit on the ground at my hind paws, and I knew what he thought of the Tereskàdian Act.
It is written in blood, I called out. It is written in the blood of all the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons that have been murdered by Alharhanians. Anyone who disobeys the laws that are in this document must pay the penalty.
I am above the law, he shouted in my face, and I knew I had him. Here was an arrogant Alharhanian who thought he was untouchable, not because he was the mayor of this town, but because he was an Alharhanian, and any law which protected the Tereskàdians was invalid as far as he was concerned.
Why do you want to murder the Tereskàdians? I asked again, and in answer, he picked up a long, needle-thin weapon known as a ptendhach. I had first seen this weapon when I was a cub on Tereskàdhar, and I knew what sort of damage it could do. I saw him looking at the crowd before him, looking left, then right, then straight ahead. He aimed it at one of the Tereskàdians, pressed a small button, and a tiny, almost inaudible hiss told me he had fired it. The Tereskàdian, a young female, crumpled to the ground, and beside her, her whistling dragon, fell over, and lay still.
I may not be the Supreme One, he said, but as far as you’re concerned, animal, I’m the next best thing.
So he thought he was the next best thing to the Creator. Hmm. My mind was working like crazy. I knew that in a few moments this maniac would murder the entire Tereskàdian population of Frešherod, but as long as I could do something about it, I would try my best to prevent that. Krysa Rhona’s prediction had already been changed, and I was determined to change it even further.
I challenge you, I said. If you think you are as good as the Creator... almost as good as the Creator, how confident do you feel about taking on a Tereskàdian? If you win, these Tereskàdians are yours to do with as you wish, but if you lose, you must let them go. They must be allowed to leave town─
And what will happen to me? he interrupted.
You will be dead. I held my breath; it was obvious that he was not much of a reader, but I could not understand why he was not concerned with the poison in my claws.
Or did he know?
Of course he knows, Kykherhenha sent. Everyone knows about the poison in our claws.
He aimed the ptendhach at my belly. Do you think I’m that stupid? You think if I accept your challenge, and fight you, you will not use your claws against me? I am going to do what I came here to do, and there is nothing you can do about it. Now, join the others.
I turned, took a step back, and brushed against him. He spat out a foul curse, and pushed me roughly away from him. I landed on my tail, and my mind suddenly realized that I had been attacked, and there was only one way to resolve it. When he saw me coming at him, he was too stunned to even raise his weapon. His mouth opened wide as he took several steps back. When he reached the edge of the platform he fell backward on to the grass, and tried to crawl away from me. He looked for his aides to help him, but out of the corner of my eyes I could see them, just standing there, watching. This was his moment, and they weren’t going to interfere, especially when an adult Tereskàdian was involved. They knew that if they even so much as touched me while I was in my defensive mode, they would be killed, too.
I wasn't interested in spilling a lot of blood; I had been attacked, and all I needed to do was release the poison into his body. Like anyone who attacks a Tereskàdian, he died instantly. The Tereskàdians and whistling dragons surrounded the body silently, and then went home. The Alharhanians who were part of the mayor’s group, came up to me, and the leader told me they would elect a new mayor, and they would make sure he was tolerant toward the Tereskàdians living in this town.
And on that day, in the town of Frešherod, Krysa Rhona’s prediction was forever changed, and I knew that anything she had written could have been changed, if only those who were affected had taken the time to do it. All it needed was one small change, and everything else would fall apart.
So what does all this prove? That Krysa Rhona’s predictions were not written with blood on stone, that they were only possibilities? What she saw was what she saw; it never meant they were untouchable. I remember the many sessions we had at the University of Treskebhar where, as a student, I joined in the discussions with other students and Thyros Mharhen about Krysa Rhona and her predictions. What if? we had asked. What if somebody could change one of her predictions. And we would leaf through the thick book, and find passages. And we would ask questions, and extrapolate. One group would take the ‘change’ position, and another would take the ‘non-change’ position. Those who did not want change would tell those who did that change would only worsen some things in years to come. I recall one student saying that what we change in the present would affect what happens in the future. Everything is connected, she had said. You can expect Krysa’s future predictions to be affected by what we do in the past. I asked her if we should just leave things as they are; if, for example, the assassination of someone could be prevented, should we just ignore it? But what if, she said, you change that prediction, and, sometime in the future, that Alharhanian, murders a child that was supposed to grow up, and become a great leader of a country? And back and forth, and back and forth it went. There was no final answer, of course, because everything we talked about was mere speculation.
As I put the finishing touches to this day I realized that I have not mentioned what has been happening to my family, and the Dhoren family. It’s just that I wanted to finish the story about Frešherod, and what happened to the mayor who was so set on killing all the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons in that town. One more thing I should mention is that my brother and his family are thinking of moving to Treskebhar, possibly in the spring, which is only a few weeks away.
Rhalhea has come into our room where I have spent the last little while working on this. She stands behind me, and I can hear her purring. She puts her muzzle close to my cheek, and I can feel her whiskers, and her tongue, as she licks my cheek, and my ear, and increases the volume of her purrs.
I know what she has in mind, and I’m not going to keep her waiting.
N’herhachyzh 8.98/Day 400
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