Monk

It just wasn’t the same.
It felt to Hyran as if he had to strain his voice to its limits to help create even half the sound the choir had been able to make before. The chapel actually seemed empty now, with only dark-skinned Vle to praise and bless the Great Master.
Later, the copying cells seemed almost silent— it was as if no one wanted their quill to be heard. How badly would this affect the copying schedule? Could they keep up with the rate of decay?
It was finally at dinner that the subject was breached. “It doesn’t seem right to be without our brothers,” someone said into the silence at the table. Hyran thought perhaps the anonymous voice was the Abbot’s, but he couldn’t be sure.
“No,” agreed Tichel. “It seems to me that the Great Master would prefer to keep us together, so that more may praise and bless his name.”
“And yet we are commanded to do nothing,” said Hyran. A few gave him looks that said, ‘Well, of course not!’
“There is nothing to say that being elsewhere is an impediment to our brothers in praise of the Great Master. Indeed, they could create their own monastery within this camp of the King’s.”
“True, but they are now off the platform, contrary to their vows.”
“Not contrary. They had permission.”
Everyone looked at the head of the table. The abbot regarded his ‘sons’ with equanimity, and continued. “The King is qualified to allow any of us to leave.”
“As well as allow outsiders onto the platform?” someone asked.
The abbot shook his head. “No, that had to be either me or one of my superiors. And regardless of who gave such permission, it was not a choice. It was politics.”
The abbot’s tone was such that it was clear no more discussion would take place in that direction. After a pause, Brother Clarrow, sent the discussion in a new one: “So, do we pray for our brothers? Is there reason to think they are in danger? Or are they to be martyrs? Without understanding the outside world, we can’t know.”
“It makes no difference,” said a senior brother who was about on par with Allega. “We must trust in the Great Master either way. He has redeemed us, so that death means little to our souls.”
“But that does not absolve our duty to the souls of this world,” countered Hyran. “The Great Master’s redemption is not something everyone knows or accepts always, and therefore they are without comfort.”
The senior brother spread his hands. “What does that have to do with our brothers? They have accepted the redemption, and do not need our prayers.”
“But can we be sure they are still accepting? Did you see Allega as he led him away? The Vle was afraid for his life, shocked to the heart that something like this should occur. We must at least pray for his strength, as well as the strength of the others.”
“Are you saying that our brothers are less than completely dedicated?”
“Not at all. I am merely saying that this traumatic event will force them to reevaluate their— our religion.”
And then everyone turned away and ignored him for the rest of the evening.

As Hyran headed for the copying cells two days later, the abbot approached him. He got a bit worried— had the abbot been so displeased at his comments at dinner that he had just now cooled down enough to talk to him?
“Hyran? May I talk with a moment?”
“Of course, Father.”
“Brother Allega thought well of you.”
“We got along well, Father.”
“But, I mean to say, he thought highly enough that he recommended you for whatever advancement you desired to take. I’m afraid the garden still has one to tend it.”
Hyran smiled wryly. “I have begun to wonder if that will ever change.”
“No time soon, I’m sure. However, you are known for your... unorthodox theology. Not just here, but in other monasteries as well. I frankly find it curious that Allega should have thought so highly of you. However, there is no reason you cannot serve as my secretary today.”
“Today? As in, a temporary appointment?”
“Exactly. As you know, my secretary had to leave.”
“Yes, Father.”
“I have done quite well without him, so I am reluctant to replace him on a permanent basis. However, I would like your assistance this afternoon.”
“Is there a special duty you need me for, Father?”
“Yes. Lord Varabia has come to talk with us.”
“You have permitted his entry?”
“Yes. He is the lord of this land. He wishes to talk with me, so I have allowed him to come do so. Do you see a reason not to?”
“Well, only that he is the embodiment of politics. But I understand that you have agreed to see him as a petitioner. Of course, Father.”
“I’m glad you agree with me. Now, if you will accompany me when he arrives?”
“Yes, Father. When the lift bell rings, I shall come.”
“Very good. Good copying.”
“Thank you, Father.”
They parted, and Hyran went to copy, hoping he could keep his mind on it. If he served well as secretary, he could well get to stay— and skip being a mentor entirely...!
Best not get one’s hopes up.

The lift bell rang soon after lunch, and Hyran moved quickly to the lift. Below, a very distinguished-looking man stepped from an ornate coach, and onto the small platform which would bear him up. The lift operator of the day prodded the horse into action, and the lift moved slowly to the lower level where Hyran and the abbot waited.
When the lift was finally level, the two monks bowed, but only Hyran bowed low. “Greetings, Lord Varabia. It is a pleasure to have your presence grace our monastery,” said the abbot. “May I introduce Brother Hyran.”
Varabia gave Hyran a mere nod, and turned his attention back to the abbot. “I was wondering if I might call a conference of your most senior monks, Father.”
The abbot raised his brows. “A conference? The advice of one monk is not enough?”
“No, Father, I am afraid it is not.”
“Very well.” The abbot turned to Hyran, and nodded, which meant ‘Go ring the conference bell.’ Hyran did, and rejoined the two, who were deep in discussion about redemption, and what it meant to a lord such as Varabia. Hyran fell into step, and simply listened, as was his job for the day.
“So, you don’t agree with the idea that, since I’m a lord, I must have been redeemed by the Great Master before I was even born?” asked Varabia.
“No, because, as virtuous as you may be, you have the Creator’s instincts just like the rest of us, because you were born just like the rest of us. Those instincts, however, may lead you wrong. You need to be redeemed, so that you can restrict the influence of those instincts.”
“I see. So, then, by what right do I rule?”
“Oh, the Creator’s of course.”
“Which is what I thought. So, even though the Great Master redeems us equally, we’re still unequal because the Creator created us so.”
“Exactly.”
“I see. Some people think that belief in the Great Master means you can’t believe in the Creator anymore, and so they’re questioning the Created Right to Rule.”
“That’s nonsense. Someone had to Create all that we see, and it certainly wasn’t the Great Master.”
And then there were those, like Hyran, who did question the right to rule, but not the Creator. Was it wrong to say that the old Creation religion just had a few facts wrong?
They came to the hall of studies, and sat at the large conference table. The abbot sat at the head, of course, as was his custom, and Varabia sat to his right. Hyran took the left position, and then the senior brothers entered the hall.
“Greetings, Sons,” said the abbot. “Sitting here at my right hand is a petitioner, the estimable Lord of Varabia. I have not yet asked what his question is, so I cannot prepare you. Are there any questions?”
“Begging pardon, Father,” said an elderly man two positions down from Varabia, “if I may ask, by what right does Brother Hyran sit at your side?”
“He is my secretary for this meeting. He will not be contributing to the discussion, without my approval.”
Hyran hadn’t realized before how infamous his theology was. Obviously, some really disliked it! But that was not a concern for the moment.
“Are there any more questions?” The abbot’s query was met by only silence, so he said, “Then, we shall begin. My Lord?”
Varabia stood as the abbot sat; Hyran prepared his parchment and quill. “My most reverent brothers,” he began, “My concern, which I bring to you, is the recent proclamation by the King. I am sure you know which one I speak of— I can see vacancies even right here among you.
“The situation is much the same throughout my realm— whole towns, in some places, forced to pack up and walk for days; other towns are missing a large part of their mechant community. What it adds up to, my friends, is a large loss in revenue. That’s the purely pragmatic side. On the more emotional side, my family has been broken up by this move, we have intermarried so much. There are countless families with the same problems in towns, with friendships broken and Vle literally dying of grief.
“My request is not for only myself, however. I come on behalf of light Vle everywhere. This situation cannot continue, but I do not have enough power to convince the King that he is wrong. Your organization, however does. You can convince the Representative that he must order the king to change course. For the good of fifty thousand Vle, and the good of the kingdom, this I implore.”
He stopped, and sat. There was silence. Finally, the abbot said, “Surely you know of our vows.”
“Of non-interference in politics? That I do. But you must see beyond that. This isn’t just politics, these are lives we’re talking about. Suffering souls, and more may suffer if our light-Vle neighbors decide to wage war in defense of their kinsmen. I would be forced to take up arms against them— those I myself consider kinsmen.”
“It remains a political matter, My Lord,” said a senior brother near the far end of the table. “It is a King’s decree, a decsion he made based on political necessity. We cannot pretend to understand all the issues, and therefore we cannot pressure him in any way.”
Varabia gestured with his fists. “What issues do you need?! There is only one that matters here, and that is personal freedom. Our King does not have the right to take that away for any reason. If you pressure him to take a different action, then he will, and it will be one with nearly the same rationale. We do not need to fear interference here— only inaction.”
Another senior brother tried another tack. “The Great Master commands us— all of us— to look at all sides of an issue, before making a decision. Thus we will make wise, advantageous decisions. He also commands those of us who seek to know him as he knew himself to sequester ourselves so that we may come to know him without distraction. Unfortunately, that leaves us largely unaware of the greater issues beyond. We cannot interfere. The issue is not one merely one of freedom, but of the future. The Great Master has plans for the world, and it is not for us to guess at those plans.” The brother jabbed his pointer finger in Varabia’s direction. “If we did, we would be saying that our Great Master is inconsistent. He gave us these Mandates to be followed without exception, so that we would have no reason to interrupt his plans.”
The abbot joined in. “And as dire as the situation may be, it is well within the capacity of the Great Master to deal with. This may be part of his plan. We cannot say, because we cannot know.”
Varabia looked at all the faces around the table, and Hyran looked as well. Every single one was in agreement, and displayed confidence in that agreement. For a moment, Hyran wondered if he truly was in the right career.
[Trust...]
Varabia sat back. “Very well. I had to try.”
“Trust in the Great Master,” the monks chorused, and stood, filing out, leaving Hyran and the abbot with the disappointed lord.
“That is not the answer you wanted,” observed the abbot.
Varabia shook his head. “No, it is not.”
The abbot stood, and so did Hyran. “Thank you, Hyran. I shall not need your services further today.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“Come, I shall see you away,” said the abbot to Varabia.
The lord shook his head. “Might I meditate some more before I go?”
The abbot inclined his head a small degree. “If that is your wish.” He then walked out, but Hyran did not follow.
“You don’t seem to agree with the others,” Varabia stated.
“No. I don’t know if it’s just my youth, or a lack of belief, or my different background, but I cannot agree.”
“Hmph. I came expecting to come away with an entire organization at my side, but instead I have only an abbot’s secretary. Unless you happen to have his ear...?”
“Hardly. He told me, literally, that I am known for my unorthodox views. I served as his secretary only for today.”
“Hmm.” Varabia slumped into an undignified posture in his chair. “Essentially, we’re in the same predicament, you and I. Our hands are tied behind our backs by our superiors, without a way to change their minds; the only path for us is the path they choose.”
Hyran had a thought. “I once copied a text, which said that we are only constrained by our own selves. No one can really constrain us, we only choose to accept that constraint. You could choose differently.”
“As could you.”
“N-no, my constraints are held by The Great Master himself. He can indeed constrain us.”
“Can he? How? He didn’t constrain the King’s hand, when he sat to write the proclamation. He didn’t constrain the soldiers who came to take half my subjects away. He didn’t constrain the builders of the camp.”
“Then we can only assume it is his will, however odd it seems.”
Varabia was warming up. He sat forward and said, “Then, as your own brothers have said, he would be inconsistent! For did The Great Master not guarantee that all beings of all races be free to make their own choices, within his own guidelines?”
“He did.” Hyran couldn’t believe it. Varabia was right! Something had to faulty in the logic, however, because it seemed too good to be true. Or too bad, depending on the viewpoint. After all, either way, the Great Master appeared to be inconsistent. He sat down opposite Varabia.
"Well, I apologize for troubling you. Would you show me to the chapel?"
"Of course." The walk to the chapel was short, and quiet, allowing Hyran to sink deep in thought. He did not notice when Varabia stood and left.