Teachings and Musings of Youth

Information

Class: Journal
Wc: 538

Publishing

Aut: Flade Ipxko Tok’Od
Dt: 685 A.T.
Ogn: Sellsword

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• Book of Le

As I write the skies open once more on what was once a bright day. I look through the porthole and see the rain come down, shaking the trees with the wind it brings. Though it may look and sound violent, we know it to be part of the natural cycle that restores the water and land around us, just as we welcome young avoc into the service. Just after first light today I welcomed our newest vesmi. As always, not only will they learn here, but there is much we can learn from the innocence of youth.

They had many questions for me, as they usually do. “Flade Ipxko,” asked a young ice-fisher from Kivemi, “my mother says the faith of water is unpredictable – is that true?”

“What is life, if not unpredictable,” said I. “Would we not be wise to learn from the waves what we can?”

“Flade Ipxko?” asked the shy child of a scribe from Apode. “Is it true the sea air … crumbles your bones?”

I turned to the young one and smiled. “The air alone will not—but you must look after your body as well if not better than any tool in your shop!”

“I have a question, Flade Ipxko,” and I turned to the avoc. A child of a wealthy clan of trade route managers if I remembered the list of vesmi names correctly. “If the Fieft is only a metaphor then what is the point of good deeds?”

In reply, I took the young avoc’s hand and gently led him to the cliffside, the others in tow, and gestured out to the open waves beneath us, and the clear skies in all directions. The unkind are not rewarded with peace and bliss like this, I believe.

“Now, tell me young ones…who has been a meesoaet of late?”

Though it might have been the view inspiring a healthy dose of awe in the young avocs, I find each time I ask that the young do not wish to divulge what draws them to the caves again and again. Try as I might, I never find anything of interest when I journey to the caves with the little time I do have. Though none spoke up, I could smell the stench of the cave on several of them, the musty smell of still pooled water chilled in the caves lingered on their clothes and bones.

I turned back to the young avocs and we all walked together back to temple.

“Flade Ipxko, is it true what they say in town,” sheepishly asked a farmer’s child, “that all at the temple are going blind? How can you teach?”

“Not quite,” I said with a laugh, “there are truly only a few of us. As for myself, I have full sight in one eye, which is more than enough to take in the world around us, and read the Dav. What more could I need?”

“Flade Ipxko!” “Flade Ipxko!”

“Come now, young vesmi!” I pleaded. “It is Dauepa after all. We must come and get you prepared for your first day as part of the temple. There will be much time for questions, if you are kind, you will have years to learn.”