“I hit the ceiling my first time as well,” he said and then lowered her to the wooden floor.
She looked at the flute, at the Melody recorded in red dye, and then into the eyes of her husband. “I felt so powerful. It is difficult to describe the sensation of having so much energy at my command. Words can give a person a general idea but one must experience it to truly comprehend the feeling.”
Jubal nodded his head. “Summoning and holding potential does give a person a heady feeling. Many Nephilim already have egos that tower more than twice their height. Once they experience what you, Roddy, and I have, the struggle to keep from growing more arrogant will become a formidable challenge.”
Vashti contemplated what she had done, how much concentration it had taken, and what her husband had accomplished. “I think what I just did was the easy part, actually focusing the potential is going to be much harder,” to which he nodded agreement, “and to do so while consciously blowing each note correctly seems even harder. How are you able to be conscious of all of those things at once without literally skipping a beat?”
By way of answering he bent over and added a Da Capo at the end of the Melody. She was very familiar with the musical language he developed and knew something was missing. “After the Melody repeats, where do you tie the end?”
He smiled. “Excellent question, you tie it to your life-force, that way the Melody will continue summoning the potential from your internal pool of energy without you having to think about it. The flow will cease when you mentally remove the Da Capo.”
She did as he said and was pleased when the pink energy field continued to emanate from her, even after she stopped playing and placed the flute on the box/ table.
“Great!” Jubal shouted with joy. “Now we can work on focusing ..,” he said and cut off to grab her as she began to lift off the floor, taking him with her. He quickly added, “Hear the melody in your mind and imagine lowering the volume.”
She did so and they both smoothly descended back to the floor. “I am going to mentally increase the volume and see if I can control exactly how high I want to be,” she informed him, giving him the chance to either let go of her or go along for the ride.
Jubal released her and stepped back. His personal radiance suddenly lit up half the room. “Do so and I’ll float up beside you.”
Soon they were both levitating near the ceiling and within an hour he taught her how to concentrate on the box containing their possessions, send a beam of light from her finger, imagine the energy field enveloping the wooden container, and then have the object rise and go where ever she pointed. He also showed her how useful it was to focus two beams, one to hold the object in place and the other to go the opposite way. That skill she learned at the cost of the only chair in the room, having snapped it in half, but felt it to be a fair price for the knowledge gained. Her throat was dry but stopping the lesson to take a drink did not appeal to her at the moment.
“Jubal, the first time I saw you glowing, a blue appendage was extending from your arm and holding this box. Why have you taught me to focus a beam rather than a hand?”
“Imagining a ray of light striking and enveloping an object takes far less power than any other method I have tried,” he replied. “I guess you could say the appendage required greater volume. I will continue to figure out the best way to focus the energy and teach what is the most effective to whoever wants to learn.”
She looked him in the eyes and wondered if he had any idea how much time would be demanded of him. “Jubal there are three hundred-twenty Nephilim born since the flood, one of us is already an expert at summoning and wielding potential, and two, Roddy and I, are learning but neither of us have the knack for taking a difficult lesson and making it easy to understand. I can see now why the priest chose you to be the teacher.”
“The lesson is not over, I have not told you the dangers involved, nor have I even explained yet why you are so thirsty right now. Also, there are three hundred twenty-one Nephilim; I am counting my mother, Sheba, and your mother, but not Pan’s twins. They will stand out as giants among the overall population, but it could be a decade or more before we can determine if they are Anakim or Nephilim.”
She accepted his addition of the three elders, but that only reinforced the point she intended to make. “In less than two decades Gemini and Gemma will be your students if they turn out to be of us, you can be sure of that, and so will every other Nephilim child born into the community. Any Melodies Nimrod composes in the future will be recorded on something by you and then you will be teaching the Aakas to the rest of us,” she explained, and then decided to get back to her main point before he could respond.
“The lesson about the dangers and why I am thirsty can wait long enough for me to share the reason I made the point about your teaching ability. You are only one person and there is not enough time in the day for you to teach everyone who comes to you. You are my husband and while I understand the need for others to spend time with you, I will not allow them to monopolize your time, especially that which should be spent with me.”
Vashti leaned closer to him. “It is now my job to set up the classes; size and duration, otherwise people will take advantage of you. This way I can make time for you and me to be together in private and to have a social life beyond teaching. Like the priest said, you are an Aakacarn and a teacher; this means your duties as a weapocarn will have to be delegated to other hunters while most of your time is devoted to teaching. I suppose the Anakim would, in time, be the weapocarns while the Nephilim would all want to be Aakacarns, in fact I am sure of it.”
He began scratching the top of his head, which was a good sign, meaning he did not reject her suggestion. Her words had sounded more like a declaration, but one she could not actually force upon him. Jubal finally nodded and took hold of her hand. “It would be wise to..,” he began and then was interrupted by a vigorous pounding on the door.
“Brother, we would like to have a word with you,” the muffled voice of Zeus came from beyond the wooden entrance.
Vashti rolled her eyes, exasperated; it seemed she was going to have to wait to hear what Jubal had decided. He was already moving to unlock the door and so she did her best to smooth her features so as not to show her irritation at being interrupted.
In walked Zeus, Oden, Kronos, and Ra. She would have bet three baskets of dates it had been Ra who had done the knocking; none of the others were as brash. All of them glanced at the broken chair but evidently had nothing to say about it, although Oden’s left eyebrow arched up speculatively.
“To what do we owe this honor?” Jubal inquired politely.
Vashti peered right into the eyes of her older brother and knew why, even if her husband had not figured it out yet. Although, he might have done so and was only pretending he had no idea why they had come. Her man was impulsive, not simpleminded, and was capable of figuring things out on his own, occasionally at times inconvenient for her.
“Jubal, we have heard of your remarkable accomplishments and have agreed as designated leaders of the Nephilim and Anakim, to bestow upon you the tile of Instructor. It is clear to all of us,” Ra began in declarative tones, with a nod toward Kronos to include him in the statement. “You will be the one who teaches people how to become Aakacarns. Thus we decided you should have the authority to set up classes and officially train all who would learn the use of the new Aaka my brother composed.”
“Yes,” Zeus stepped forward. “The decision was unanimous and even the elders we spoke to agreed it was a good idea.”
Oden’s eyes fixed directly on Vashti. “I am sure you recognize the honor and prestige the title carries.”
She saw plenty; a title bestowed by them rather than Nimrod, an obligation greater than Jubal’s duty to the chief weapocarn, and without threatening the friendship of the two. She only wondered when one of the four would get around to asking for a private lesson. Her brother frowned when she made no immediate reply.
Jubal looked at her, spent a few moments gazing at Kronos and then smiled. “I accept the title and the responsibilities that go along with it.”
“Excellent,” Kronos spoke up. “Since we are all here, might this not be a good time to teach us at least some of the basics involved in wielding the Aaka?”
Jubal scratched the side of his head at the right temple. Vashti smiled, knowing, or at least having a fairly good idea, he was about to do something they would not expect. “In point of fact, the lesson began ninety minutes ago and you are all late. Did any of you even think to bring a flute?”
Ra and Kronos despised the idea of being late for anything and both of them winced slightly at the response, clearly not appreciating the accusation of being tardy.
Oden and Zeus blinked at the question. Ra shook his head, but they had all come empty-handed, and the answer was obvious.
Jubal nodded as if they had spoken. “While I very much appreciate the official title you have given me, I must insist anyone desiring to learn how to summon their life-force energy must first be taught how to play a flute, read the musical language I created, and then can be instructed in the art of Melody wielding. Since none of you can play an instrument of any kind, a lesson today would not profit you.”
Ra stepped forward, glowering over Jubal. “Nimrod uses a flute but we have all seen you wield the potential without the use of an Aakatool,” his tone was like that of a man who felt he was being cheated.
Vashti was proud of the way her husband stared up into the eyes of Ra and was not in the least intimidated by the taller and bulkier man. Jubal spread his hands wide, as if to say, it is out of my hands. “I play the Melody in my mind, each note exactly as Nimrod composed it, but that is a personal talent of mine. Even for me, one mistake will cause the Aaka to cease and could have dire consequences,” he explained, sounding as if he wished he could change the fact.
“When it comes to teaching, I cannot read the mind of a student and so could not know at what point in the piece he or she made the mistake in order to correct the error. Teaching under those circumstances would be quite impossible, I’m sure you all understand. Besides, Vashti is the one who will be scheduling the classes. Anyone who wants to learn must first speak with her. She will determine the level at which the individual must begin the training. Everyone who has the potential to learn will be taught, but only those who have enough talent to play an instrument and thus summon potential will be sent to me for training.”
Vashti watched as the eyes of the four mighty Nephilim went wide, yet none could refute what had been said, because every word was true, and they could not find fault with the reasoning. She winked at Jubal and was so proud of him it was difficult not to run over, jump into his arms, and squeeze him tight.
Chapter Eight: Semidon.
Jubal agreed when Rue showed up the next morning, after the boy begged his mother who had come to retrieve her son, to let him stay to watch his uncle teach, Pan, Thoth, Ares, and Semiramis how to summon and wield their potentials. Hadassah would be back for him in three hours. The students were the only Nephilim Vashti deemed ready to play the Melody on a flute, although over a hundred had requested to be taught. She offered to teach the would-be students how to play their instruments, those who actually thought to bring flutes.
The thirteen newly enrolled students would also be taught how to read Jubal’s musical writing, another requirement that Semi, Pan, Thoth, and Ares met, having often played melodies recorded on clay. The rest were told to go and come back when they were prepared for lessons and then Vashti would begin scheduling class times for them.
Her class was taking place in another room, to accommodate the larger group, while Jubal used Vashti’s cramped chamber. Among her pupils were Kronos, Zeus and some of his older offspring; Athena, and Hephaestus, the husband of Aphrodite. Isis and Osiris also enrolled; both could play a flute, but needed to learn how to read the musical language. Vashti would only be teaching her students to play ordinary melodies and read the language, leaving the instructing on Nimrod’s Aaka to Jubal. Eventually Oden would have to humble himself; the thirst for power would ultimately win out over his pride and allow his much younger sister to instruct him. He was used to being the one she learned from, not the other way around.
Ra would probably wait and ask Thoth to teach him to play the instrument, to read the notes, and only then come to learn from the official instructor. The giant-among-giants possessed a self-image that apparently could not tolerate being taught by a female, especially one that was barely a fifth of his age. The attitude was not uncommon among men; even many of the Tinies felt the same.
After Jubal had each of his students copy the Aaka onto tanned-leather skins, he explained about tempo, volume, focusing Potential, the Da Capo, the dangers and risks involved with summoning life-force energy, and the dehydration that could result in death if ignored.
Pan, dressed in hunter’s garb, succeeded in summoning potential without the flute, but his robin-red aura vanished and he fell, landing on his rump after only a few minutes floating near the ceiling. “What did I do wrong?”
He seriously asked the question and frowned when no one immediately answered him. It did not help the situation with Rue giggling; at least he was amused by the performance, Jubal was not. Ares, wearing a white robe with blue trim, snorted a laugh, Thoth, wearing a red robe with black trim, settled for shaking his head at the failure. Semiramis, in a violet silk dress and wearing her gold neckless of topaz and sapphires, rolled her eyes. Even in the lamplight the tiny diamonds sprinkled in her dark hair seemed to twinkle like miniature stars.
Semi, Thoth and Ares were at Vashti’s level, so was Pan, but the others had the good sense to wait and gain a little more experience before attempting to advance. Jubal could only guess what went wrong. “Since the performance took place entirely in your mind, I can only offer some possibilities.”
“Aye, I understand. Say on,” the wooly giant replied while getting to his feet.
Jubal held up three fingers. “One, you lost concentration after going through the Melody correctly for at least four successful repeats. Two, you increased or shorten the duration of one of the tones, or three, you lost track of the beat and either speeded up or slowed down the tempo; any of those would have caused the failure.”
“Judging by his apparent impatience, my guess would be he speeded up the tempo,” Thoth offered his opinion, to which Semi nodded agreement.
The dark-haired son of Zeus seemed to be having difficulty holding back emotions that would probably burst forth in a full-throated laugh if he failed to contain them. He did restrain himself, just barely, although Ares could not banish the grin. “You should have seen the look on your face when your bottom hit the floor. I will say this; your performances never fail to entertain.” Those amber eyes were sparkling with delight.
Pan shook his head in apparent self-disgust. “Aye, I like a quick tempo and Nimrod’s Aaka is a mite slow, grand, but slow. I probably did speed it up without even realizing I was doing so.”
“The tempo is perfect for the inspiration behind the Aaka,” Semi quickly stated. Her high-pitched voice had a musical quality and it was always a pleasure listening to her sing.
“I did say it was grand,” Pan pointed out, “and I will add, it is a great addition to my repertoire.”
With a slight nod of her head, the wife of Nimrod accepted the response. She never tolerated the slightest criticism or what she saw as disrespect aimed at herself or her husband.
Jubal doubted Pan had ever blown a wrong note in his life, making the change in tempo the likely first of several definite errors the man had made since becoming a student, a position the self-taught performer had never been in before that day. He invented Aakatools and taught others to play, not the other way around. His pride was not as obvious as that of Oden, but it did show up from time to time. “Mistake number one was performing the Melody in your head where I could not listen to your performance. Secondly,
you did so without informing me of what you were about to attempt. The ultimate failure was in changing the tempo, but..,”
“Was there anything else I did wrong?” Pan replied, in low tones. “I think you might’ve missed something flooding crucial.”
His ego was not easily bruised, except for when it came to his musical performance, and the tenor of his voice indicated the answer had stuck a nerve in a way the other responses had not. It was better for him to have his pride wounded than hold back information he needed to know.
If he had waited three seconds the question would not have been necessary, since the last error had been only a breath away from being uttered. If he did not like being corrected in front of the boy, he should have thought about that before attempting to show off.
“Pan you are a consummate artist and naturally wanted to demonstrate your skill; I understand that and normally would not hold it against you as being an error. With ordinary melodies what you did would have been perfectly fine, players of other people’s tunes often improvise, and to good effect, I have done so in the past, but not with an Aaka composed by Roddy. The danger of changing any part of his tune is simply too great, and more so when executed mentally where even the performer might not be aware of the change,” Jubal responded honestly, without a hint of condescension in his tone of voice, and then, with a great deal of patience, went on to speak of what had been taught about the repeater. “You evidently did not think to mentally add a Da Capo, if you had after the first or even the second, third or fourth repeat you would still be floating near the ceiling.”
Pan smiled while scratching his wildly hairy head. Clearly the explanation and the manner in which it had been spoken mollified his hurt pride. “Aye, I would at that and will not make the same mistakes twice,” meaning he acknowledged all of the errors.
Dawn Of The Aakacarns Page 15