Dawn Of The Aakacarns

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Dawn Of The Aakacarns Page 25

by John Buttrick


  Before the quake he was considered to be the most terrifying man, his display of power must have elevated their fear of him to new heights. Whatever the feelings stirred by his actions, he had no regrets and would do it all again under the same circumstances. Done, was done, and so he focused on what followed. “Pan told me how Roddy took charge and how he, along with the administrators and tribal leaders, restored calm. As to work, I plan on testing a theory and seeing if I can create a new Aakatool. I will also teach whatever classes you have scheduled.”

  His wife threw the covers aside and reached for her gown. He enjoyed the way the undergarment clung to her curves as she moved. “They did restore calm,” Vashti stated just before her head disappeared in the silk fabric. Her beautiful face popped back into view and she then used both hands to sweep her white-silky hair back to fall over her shoulders. “But Pan was not in the meetings. I am simply letting you know what to expect. It is entirely up to you if you want them to see you all scruffy. I have no idea how many guests will stop by but imagine you will have time to do some experimenting, so long as the work is not taxing. I have classes but you have none until the day after tomorrow.”

  He could appear in rags and no one but his mother and wife would likely say a word about it, to his face. Jubal did not care, but the Instructor of Aakacarns had an image to maintain. “I’ll wear the robe.”

  Vashti winked at him. “Wise decision, you have been making quite a few of those since Aaken loosed the arrow.”

  She had even lowered her voice in an attempt to sound like Anak, but was octaves too high. Jubal laughed and led the way out of the room. His slightly older sister and brother-in-law were in the hall along with Orion, Hercunus, Andromeda, and Ares. The first five were in mottled green and brown woolens and the son of Zeus wore the scarlet and black silks. He had one golden lightning bolt on his right shoulder and a silver-capped producer at his belt. The Weapocarns held spears in hand and new bronze knives at the waist.

  “You look marvelous,” Ares stated as they all started down the hall.

  “I feel good too,” Jubal replied.

  “I meant Vashti, but you appear well enough,” his nephew responded with a slight smile, indicating he was attempting to be humorous, and perhaps spending too much time with Apollo.

  Jubal eyed his clothes. “Why are you not dressed in your robe of office? You are an administrator after all.”

  “I am that,” Ares responded, “but I am also an Aakacarn. Today I choose to wear the clothes officially associated with Melody-wielding.”

  “I did not know we had an official uniform. The fabric and colors were chosen by my mother. Vashti ordered the blouse and pants to match,” Jubal said while gesturing with his hands, “and while the silks are a distinctive style, they have no official meaning.”

  “They do after everyone saw you shining bright in the sky,” Andromeda joined the conversation. “Two thirds of the Nephilim were wearing your colors and joined with you in rescuing people, those actions tend to create lasting impressions. The Instructor of Aakacarns wears the scarlet and black silks and for the first time in a general assembly, so did many of his students. After yesterday no one but an Aakacarn would dare wear those clothes.”

  Medica stepped from a side door. “Little brother,” she called, clearly enjoying what the term implied, even though she was referring to age not height. Standing, her eyes were on a level with his belt.

  “Yes, big sister,” he replied, playing along for no better reason than to amuse her.

  Hands on hips, she eyed him up and down. “You seem to be as fit and energetic as I expected. I am glad to see you so and hope the next time your visit will be for pleasure and not as a person in need of care.”

  Jubal hoped so as well. “I will do my best to avoid the need for treatment every time we see each other, which is the way we have been meeting of late,” he had to admit. “You know Vashti will keep me from over taxing myself.”

  “You can count on that,” his wife was quick to agree.

  Medica gave a satisfied nod. “Now that you have vacated a bed, I can have one of my helpers prepare the room for someone else. Go about your business, but keep a low profile and limit your activities for another day.” As if someone his height could keep a low profile, she was still trying to be funny.

  “I will see that he does,” Vashti assured her. He nodded and both women took that as an affirmation.

  As they walked down the hallway, leaving his sister to her duties, people stopped their tasks and stood staring. “It is good to see you looking so well, Instructor,” the workers, midwives, and healers told Jubal repeatedly as he passed by. He expected to see fear in their eyes and so was surprised to see high regard.

  “Yesterday a glance from me struck most people with terror. Their reactions are not what I expected. Isn’t it funny how quickly attitudes can change,” he commented and wondered if he could trust his assessment of their feelings.

  “Not at all,” Anak responded. “You went from being seen as the all-powerful executioner to actually being a very powerful savior willing to give his life on behalf of others. The first was a perception created by rumor and the second a demonstrated fact that came at great person cost. When you fell, even I thought your life was at an end.”

  “I knew you would recover,” Cassi declared. “A vision came to me shortly after the earthquake indicating you have an active role to play, a role lasting so far ahead I cannot see the completion. I do not know exactly what you will eventually do, but whatever it is, the tasks involved in getting to that point will consume a great deal of your time and efforts.”

  The memory of Mel’s visit rushed back into the forefront of thought. Jubal had a general idea of his responsibilities going forward. He had things to accomplish; lessons to learn, innovations to make, much to teach, and guiding to do. “Tell me of your vision, what did you see? I need to know as much as you have discerned.”

  Cassiopeia took a deep breath as if to begin a lengthy description and explanation, but held her tongue when they stepped out of the facility and found hundreds of people lining both sides of a path that started at the entrance and bent to the left fifty paces from the door. Orion nodded as if it was no less than he expected. “I would not be surprised if this winding wall of people stretches all the way to your home. Instructor, you have made an impression that will last a long time in the minds of the populace.”

  “Jubal, Jubal, Jubal,” the crowd chanted.

  Cheers, whistles, and the clapping of hands added to the mix of sounds. Excitement was in the air along with a general sense of celebration.

  The Melody, Elevation, began in his mind, but Jubal kept the volume low to be discrete. It was unlikely any Nephilim would notice the faint hue of his life-force in the bright morning sunshine. He wanted to trust the smiling faces and to believe the goodwill and exuberance behind the display was genuine, yet could not afford that luxury, too much was at stake for him to trust in the fickle nature of public opinion.

  His gaze swept from eye to eye and not a single person cringed or shrank back in fear, rather the individuals smiled and shouted even louder as they realized he had noticed them. “It appears you did not exaggerate the level of scrutiny we would be receiving.”

  Vashti locked her right elbow into his left and started them walking. “If anything, I underestimated it.”

  Cassi moved to walk beside him on the right. “You might want to wave your hand and at least acknowledge them.”

  Jubal raised his free arm, palm up, and smiled at the people. His action increased the enthusiasm of the onlookers. When he and his small entourage reached the first bend to the left, sitting on the ground to his right, unnoticed by the adults at the front of the line, was a little boy whose parents were nowhere in sight. Somehow, the situation did not come as a surprise. That particular boy had a habit of wandering off. “Rue, come here,” he called.

  His tiny nephew sprang up, darted past Andromeda, skirted around Cassio
peia, and caught hold of Jubal’s hand. Rue’s lips moved but the sound was drowned out by the shouting crowd. It took but a moment to lift and place the small boy onto the pair of golden lightning bolts stitched into the cloak. His diminutive body did not take up much space on the shoulder

  “You saved us from being crushed by the logs,” his piping voice sounded near Jubal’s ear.

  “I figured you would appreciate that.”

  “Oh I did, I really did. You were shining brighter than a lightning bolt and lifting people into the sky. I wasn’t sure you would notice us.”

  “Well, you are small and do tend to wander off and end up in unexpected places. However I noticed you with your parents at the foot of the hill, but do not see them now,” Jubal replied. “How did you come to be alone at the feet of strangers?”

  “Medica told everybody you were much better and would be leaving early in the morning so we came to see you. I haven’t seen you since before you moved. Anyhow, I was with them, my mother and father, and then we were surrounded by people and getting pushed and I turned, just once, and then I could not see them because so many people were in the way. I shouted but so was everybody else and so I don’t think anybody heard me. I could not find my parents no matter which way I went. Well, we came to see you, so I crawled around people’s feet until I found a spot in front, and then you called me.”

  Jubal eyed the crowd but did not see Peleg or Hadassah. Since the Instructor was the focus of attention, it was likely they would see him first, so he decided to hold onto the boy for a while. “Rue, maybe you should sit right where you are, that way your parents will see you better. Cassi, you were going to tell me of your vision.”

  His sister nodded her head. “I saw a hawk with copper feathers on the hunt, circling in the sky, it landed on the ground and transformed into you. ‘Come this way,’ you told all of us, ‘We have been here long enough,’ then you kept pulling rings, batons, amulets, and even staffs and devices that could not possibly fit into a pocket from your cloak. Suddenly hundreds of Aakacarns were at your feet, even the Aakasear, not as servants, but as learners. ‘Follow me,’ you said and then turned back into a hawk. The entire class then transformed into various animals and creatures of flight and they went where you went. You showed the way forward, like a scout, but were not their actual leader. The hawk with copper-colored feathers flies through many storms, sometimes in mass migration, but is often accompanied by a white eagle, a brown spotted owl, a gold-speckled falcon, and a raven darker than the blackest night.”

  “But what does it mean?” Vashti asked.

  “It means my brother will create many more Aakatools, do a great deal of scouting, guide all of us farther than we have ever been, and teach many things to the Aakacarns. The storms mean he will run into great difficulty along the way. I don’t know why I saw him as a hawk or you as the white eagle, you were among those at his feet and that is what you transformed into. I do not yet know who the raven, falcon, and owl represent or the significance of any of the animal shapes. There was even a creature with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion.”

  Jubal had hoped for more specifics. The only thing her viewing added to what Mel had revealed was in reference to the birds and other animals. The list of responsibilities was essentially the same. He had no idea why his sister saw him as a hawk. “Thanks for sharing what you saw. Please let me know if you see anything else pertaining to me.”

  “I will make any future visions known to you as soon as possible,” she replied while eyeing the crowd, perhaps on the lookout for hostile intent.

  “Are you going to turn into a hawk?” Rue asked, as if not only expecting the transformation but eager to see it happen on the instant.

  Jubal chuckled at the notion. “No, I think the raptor in Cassi’s viewing has a symbolic meaning, although I am not sure what it means about me.”

  “The hawk represents something about your character. To be hawkish is to be aggressive, so it means there will be times when you must be forceful and uncompromising in carrying out your duties. Kind of like a hawk diving at prey.”

  Anak was nearly as intellectual as Thoth and so his interpretation of the viewing was likely correct. Jubal nodded his head. “A hunter moving in for the kill, I can relate to that feeling, having been in the situation many times, and well imagine being hawkish in the fulfillment of my responsibilities. Cassi, I can see why you married this fellow; he is good at figuring things out.”

  She smiled at her husband. “I envisioned marrying him years before he noticed me. All I had to do was gain his attention and he figured out the rest quite easily,” she paused, noticing him swelling up with pride. “He is a clever fellow, but has a habit of giving unsolicited opinions.”

  Jubal had noticed the habit and also noticed Peleg pointing toward his son and trying to make his way through the crowd. Hadassah hurried along behind her husband while clinging to a babe wrapped in swaddling. Jubal halted, giving them time to push on to the front and then lowered their son to the ground. “This boy will always follow his own path,” he told them.

  “That he does,” Peleg replied and took Rue by the hand. The boy’s father had straight hair the color of pitch and eyes nearly as dark. “Unfortunately my son also has a knack for getting lost.”

  “And you seem to be developing one for finding him,” Hadassah finished the thought. “Thanks again Jubal, I mean, Instructor.” Like her son, she had brown curly hair and eyes the color of pine bark. Her daughter, Connisea, more closely resembled her father.

  “You can call me Jubal.”

  “You could call him uncle. After all you married one of his nephews,” Ares stated while pointing to Peleg.

  For some reason, probably ego, the son of Zeus did not acknowledge the same individual was his distant cousin. He clearly had difficulty accepting Tinies as kinsmen, especially third, fourth or fifth-gens, even though they were, like him, descendants of Shem.

  “Uncle Jubal is going to turn into a hawk and swoop down on his prey,” Rue declared. “Aunt Cassiopeia saw it.”

  “He will be hawkish in the carrying out of his duties,” Anak explained, even though he had not been part of the conversation.

  Jubal patted him on the back. “Good answer. Now I want to be hawkish in getting home.” He was being distracted from his studies.

  “And that is a good notion,” Vashti stated and then pulled him forward by the elbow, getting him started.

  The folks lining both sides of the path had familiar faces, some of whom had always been cordial to him and others who had often been critical, yet all of them were applauding him. He accepted the apparent good will in the spirit in which it was clearly intended and also kept in mind how swiftly things could change.

  Orion had been correct, the line of well-wishers extended all the way to the pyramid. Once inside, the sound of flutes drew Jubal to Vashti’s classroom. One instrument carried the melody and the other played in harmony. The tones were beautiful and the musicianship was superb, well beyond that of her students. He removed the Da Capo, ceasing the Aaka, and entered the room, seeing Pan and Natura piping merrily.

  No one in the entourage made a sound, none wanting to interrupt the performance. When the couple finished, everyone applauded. Jubal was familiar with the tunes of nature, the harmony of sounds that occurred, but had not heard anyone play a melody and another person play along with a harmony line. Traditionally, everyone sang the same tune and played the same notes. “That was beautiful,” he told them.

  “Aye, my beloved and I worked it out,” Pan replied while laying his flute on the table. “She recorded the dual notes on this skin,” he added while pointing to a swath of tanned-leather.

  Jubal glanced at the written notes and quickly memorized both lines of music. “Pan, Natura, you are an inspiration. I think this style is going to catch on quickly and you, as well as other creative people, will develop this style into great works of music, and just think what this would sound like if yo
u added more lines in harmony.”

  Ares shook his head. “I am only now at the point where I can play Nimrod’s simple melodies on a flute. Taking one of Pan’s beautiful but complicated Aakas and adding lines of music is beyond me. What good would it do? No one person can play that piece,” he complained while pointing at the tanned-leather.

  Jubal had to agree with the last statement, depending on the type of instrument being used in the performance. “What we heard upon entering was good. The enjoyment derived from hearing the performance is reason enough for me to learn.”

  “Aye,” Pan voiced his agreement. “A true artist would recognize the value. Jubal, I think you should consider adding a line to each of the tunes you have written over the years.”

  It was a good notion. “I will definitely add that to my list of things to do.”

  “But the item will be far down on his agenda and definitely not today,” Vashti stated. “He will be working on a few small projects and taking it easy for a while. Natura, I appreciate the fact you and Pan came over. Where are the twins?”

  “Victoria is watching them for me in the third room down the hall.”

  While the women, including Cassiopeia and Andromeda, were discussing the babies, Jubal turned to Pan. “I am going to my study to test a new theory I have in mind.”

  “Can we come and watch?” Pan asked while motioning with his hand toward Ares.

  Jubal smiled at him. “Would you let me hear a tune you are in the middle of composing?”

  “I have no talent for composing tunes,” Ares answered, “so can we come or not?”

  “I was not asking you,” Jubal was quick to reply.

  “He was speaking composer to composer,” Pan explained. “Unless one of us is collaborating with another, we only want to share our work after it is finished.”

  Jubal headed toward his study. “So, are we going with him or not?” Ares demanded to know.

  “You figure it out,” Pan’s voice echoed from down the hall.

 

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