by J. M. Lee
Another result of the All-Maudra’s distance is that some Vapra may go their entire lives without ever having met her. This is—oh, how shall I put it?—less traditional than the role of maudras in other clans. The very word maudra means “mother”; among my home clan, for example, all Gelfling of the clan regard our maudra as a mother, second only to our birth mother. If a Gelfling’s parents were ever unable to perform their caregiving duties, the maudra would adopt the child as her own. My maudra was there the day I was born, and there the day I climbed Bolentor and wrote my sigil on the top of the rise. I trust her as I trust no one else, and she knows me perhaps better than I know myself.
It is not the same with the All-Maudra, whose time is so divided. To merely gain a hearing with her is an exceptional honor. It is understandable why this is so, and yet I cannot shake the feeling that it is not right. When traveling among the seven clans, I have always done my best to keep an open mind and remember that other clans have different traditions from the ones I am accustomed to—all of which should be respected. And yet, this distancing of the maudra from her clan, even if it is so that she may serve the Skeksis Lords . . . although I understand it, in the privacy of these pages, I must confess that I do not like it at all.
The Tithe
Once every three unum, the other clans make the journey to Ha’rar to join the Vapra in offering their goods to the Skeksis for the Vapran tithe. This ceremony is a tradition many Gelfling look forward to, as it offers one the rare opportunity to behold the Skeksis and the All-Maudra face-to-face. In a long procession that lasts several days, Gelfling present the products of their labor—be it grain or fruits of the harvest, handmade crafts and goods, or a particularly devoted song teller’s tale—to the Skeksis in the hopes of winning favor for their family and their clan.
I had the opportunity to attend one tithe, and thanks to the rapport I had built among the All-Maudra’s council in the time leading up to it, I had the immense honor of an invitation to behold the tithe from within the upper gallery of the All-Maudra’s throne room. This was the only time during all my travels when I beheld the Skeksis Lords with my own eyes: the Collector, the Ritual Master, and the Scroll-Keeper attended. It is a memory that will be preserved within my heart and mind for all time. Their bejeweled robes, overflowing with fur and feathers; their tall figures draped in gowns of the richest colors and stitched with metallic thread. Unlike any creature of Thra, they overpowered every hall they walked, commanded the attention of every eye that opened. Even the All-Maudra seemed but a child in their presence.
One by one, small groups of Gelfling came before the Skeksis. There they knelt, offering their tithe in handwoven baskets or chests adorned with what decorations they could afford. But before the Skeksis, even the most elaborate Vapran trinket seemed like a child’s toy; and what else could one expect? The Skeksis built the Castle of the Crystal; there they rule with only the Three Brothers above them, and even then, the suns seem but wanderers traveling along the paths ordained by the Skeksis Lords.
So what tithe could a Gelfling possibly offer that might suffice? Perhaps that is the purpose of the tithe, in reality—to humble the Gelfling and remind us of our limited comprehensions and narrow frames of mind. To remind us that we are but flowers in a garden tended by a much wiser, more powerful gardener than we could possibly understand. The tithe is not a tithe but a practice of humility—a sign of our acknowledgment of the Skeksis’ sovereignty and an embodiment of our willing, needful prostration.
A New All-Maudra
Though not often, the time eventually does come when the ruling All-Maudra must pass on her position to an heir, usually her eldest daughter. When the date for the ceremony of appointing the new All-Maudra is set, the All-Maudra breaks her Living Crown into seven pieces. Six of the pieces are sent by Windsifter to the maudras of the other six clans, who then make the pilgrimage to Ha’rar with their piece of the crown. This gathering of the maudras with their eldest daughters and closest councils is a celebrated occasion, bringing Gelfling from all across the Skarith Land to Ha’rar to witness the event.
In a rite showing their loyalty to the Vapra and the All-Maudra, the six incumbent maudras reassemble the Living Crown and place it upon the brow of the new All-Maudra. Each imbues her piece with a blessing and an oath of fealty, not only to the All-Maudra, but also to what she represents as the Gelfling ambassador to the Skeksis. It is to announce their loyalty to the All-Maudra, to the Vapra, and to the Skeksis Lords, whom she represents. This has been the way since the Skeksis created the role of All-Maudra and ordained the Vapra the bearer of her duties.
Chrysalisday—Celebration of the Sister Moons
There is a night twice a trine on which all three moons appear in the sky (or so the stargazers say. I suppose we must trust them, for it is impossible for a Gelfling to see the Hidden Moon by eye alone, though I have heard from far-dreamers it is possible to feel it in one’s heart), celebrated by Gelfling across the land as the Celebration of the Sister Moons.
In Ha’rar, this fated night is preceded by Chrysalisday, named for the chrysalis form of the Unamoth, the Vapra’s sigil creature. Common in the north, Unamoths cover the trees like a coat of fluttering white petals. During the mating season, millions of Unamoths flock on the northern coasts, until every surface is flowing with their white and silver wings. They lay their eggs along the rocky mountain faces and the frozen bark of windward-facing trees, and when spring arrives, the eggs hatch into worms, which later go dormant inside their glowing chrysalises.
Herein lies the mystery of the Unamoth, which enchants even the wisest of Gelfling sages. For although Unamoths are common and easy to observe, no naturalist or far-dreamer has ever been able to predict when the Unamoth chrysalises will blossom, releasing newly transformed moths. Some of the chrysalises open within unum; some have been known to wait trine. Still others, kept as amulets of good luck, have never awakened—and perhaps never will. I have heard that the All-Maudra keeps many chrysalises within her personal chambers, as a reminder of the potential of the future and the unpredictability of fate.
And so, the Vapra, enamored with the mysteries of their Unamoths, begin the Celebration of the Sister Moons on Chrysalisday. On this day, the youth of the city carry lanterns along the streets down to the wharf. The procession and the release of the lanterns are intensely beautiful as the sky darkens and fills with flickering lights, rising quickly toward the Sisters as they hover over the sea.
The lanterns themselves are made of paper, crafted by hand by their bearers. In its pulp form, the paper is roughly mixed with flammable dust. These veins of bluedust eventually catch fire from the heat of the lantern’s candle, exploding in a pop of color and light. However, thanks to the uneven distribution of the dust, it cannot always be predicted when such a thing will occur, if at all. Thus, the release of the lanterns is symbolic of the unpredictable transformation of the Unamoth as it escapes from its chrysalis, fluttering off into the night in a spark of color and light.
The Art of Flight
It is no secret that the Vapra, whose wings are broad and light, are masters of flight; in competition, they are rivaled only by the Sifa from a purely physical perspective. But what I did not know until I arrived in Ha’rar was how the Vapra’s homeland encourages their ability in the air as well. Wind is constantly blowing in from the Silver Sea, striking the cliffs upon which Ha’rar sits and gusting upward and through the area at all times. Hot springs riddle the mountains, and several springs flow down underground channels beneath Ha’rar and nearby areas. Within the village, jets of steam explode from vents carved for that purpose, mimicking the geysers and natural escape holes that occur naturally in the rugged mountains.
These hundreds of invisible, airy pathways crisscross through this land characterized by mountain heights; all one must do to ride them is spread one’s wings. So reliable are these currents that many homes have additional doorways on the roofs,
adorned with sculpted hand- and foot-rails and platforms for comfortable landings. It is no wonder that the Vapra have been able to refine their abilities in the air and on the wing so well, with such ample opportunities to be airborne so easily.
Even still, not all of the Vapra’s aerial prowess can be credited to their environment. Hand-in-hand with their location and its natural benefits is the Vapran tradition of flight; as far back as any Vapra can remember, taking wing has been one of the most joyous pleasures of Gelfling life. And it is not just for recreation. Perhaps most importantly within Ha’rar, flight is a sign of ability, prestige, and power. Disputes between women are settled in the air in tests of agility and strength; many Vapran garments made for men include wing-shaped vestments along the back. I heard more than once among the Vapra that their (self-proclaimed) superior skills in flight are the reason the Skeksis selected them to lead the Gelfling through the All-Maudra.
The Ha’rar Port Market
I spent many of my days in Ha’rar wandering the market. Thanks to the ever-changing tides and Gelfling, every day is new and fresh with sights and sounds and scents. Song tellers play for stories and word from distant places; merchants trade and barter; carpenters and stoneworkers repair ships; and healers mend wounds. Here you can find anything you might be looking for, so long as you have goods to trade, from Vapran steel and Grottan poultices to the whispers of a far-dreamer whose cryptic visions may hold the key to your very future.
When the winds favor it, the Sifa arrive in the Ha’rar port in fleets, their bright ships bringing a shock of color to the usually monochrome sea. Spriton set up their carts alongside Stonewood; I even spied Dousan and Drenchen travelers on occasion. It is a place where Gelfling of nearly every walk of life convene, soldiers from the castle among farmers from the Spriton Plains, all together in one place for a common goal. The only other location I can imagine may be similar is the Castle of the Crystal, where Gelfling from all seven clans unite to serve the Skeksis.
I had once thought it impossible for so many Gelfling of different clans to exist together in peace. But the market, though boisterous and busy, was an example that such a thing is not beyond us, despite what we may think. Could this place be the future of the Gelfling? As the wealth and prestige of the Vapra grows, could the bounds of the city spread? Might the trade routes along the Black River encourage more Gelfling to travel north—or may the Sifa perhaps adopt the design of the Dousan’s skiffs and ride the river south? Could it be possible, one day, for the seven clans to truly coexist? Though far off it may be, I found myself drawn to the market for this taste of our potential future. Perhaps one day I will summon the courage to ask a far-dreamer.
Mountain Hot Springs
Though I have mentioned before the way in which the Vapra express their status by way of ornaments and elaborate modes of dress, I would be remiss if I did not balance this with a description of my most interesting experience among the mountain’s hot springs. These springs, pools of hot green water that bubbles up from deep below the mountains, pocket the blustery cliffs in steamy groves. The hot springs are a difficult destination—though the reward is surely worth the dangers of the mountain climb.
I was able to reach just one of the springs, and only with the help of an experienced guide. Through freezing wind and constant blizzards we climbed; I slipped and nearly fell to my death a hundred times. On the trail we passed no one, bundled in our silver cloaks as my eyelashes froze. Every step was more challenging than the last, and with nearly every breath I considered turning back.
But then the wind broke. In the sudden stillness my vision cleared and my senses returned; I smelled the pure water and saw that a dozen Vapra lounged within the pools. My guide sternly instructed me to disrobe before entering the vicinity of the pools. There in the springs, he explained, all Vapra are one—nay, all Gelfling, for there were others like myself who had made the journey, though they were not of Vapran descent.
Stripped of our material garments, hair teased from braids and unadorned with any jewels or metals, I could not tell whether my companions in the springs were merchants, song tellers, elders, or the All-Maudra’s daughters themselves. Equalized in our Gelfling skins, held in the soothing palm of the mountains, we reflected together: upon the fragility of our lives amid the raging snowstorm; upon the healing waters sent up from the belly of Thra; upon the dichotomy of warmth and cold represented by the springs themselves. Though I might not have believed it in the beginning, I found in the springs that the Vapra do, in fact, have the same natural drive as any other Gelfling: to find peace and balance, and to become one with Thra.
Food
Thanks to their position both as a port and as the Gelfling capital, the Vapra enjoy foods brought for trade from across the entire Skarith region. Sifan and Grottan spices abound at the wharf market, their scents mingling with those of fresh fish, ripe fruit, and meats from the woods and fields to the south. If you have a craving for a food of nearly any kind, you are likely to find it close at hand in Ha’rar—though depending on the source, you may be asked to pay handsomely for it.
When I first arrived in Ha’rar, I was dazzled by the array of cuisines available. After my many travels, I found it fascinating to see how the Vapra prepared many meals that are traditional dishes of other clans. The Vapra have what I feel is a more hesitant approach, using fewer spices and preferring less seasoning in general. However, Vapran cuisine tends to be sweeter than other dishes, perhaps thanks to the groves of sugarwood that thrive in the wintry climates and high altitudes.
After a time enjoying the reinvented cuisine of Ha’rar, I sought out a traditional chef who might be able to prepare for me something that is unique to the Vapra way of life. After a long search I finally ended up in the kitchens of the Citadel. The head chef there has been serving the All-Maudra and her family for many trine, and was trained by his parents, who were trained by their parents before them. I asked if he might prepare for me the most traditional Vapran dish he could imagine.
He did not disappoint. A hearty, sweet stew of mushrooms and cream was the main course, served with a baked mint-apple over top of it and garnished with shimmering Hooyim oil. After supper he brought me a slice of Vapran frost—soft cheese dusted in powdered sugar. It was simply divine.
Songs of the Vapra
The Citadel of the All-Maudra is a legendary landmark, visible from nearly anywhere along the coast and most certainly the highlight of any visit to Ha’rar. The Citadel is built from stone carved from the Vapran mountains, reinforced with crystal and metal. The windows are made of stained glass in rainbow colors, shaped in the likeness of wings. The interior architecture resembles that of a whorled white shell, or perhaps a wave-smoothed stone; I could walk for days within the halls and never tire of their smooth stone speckled with tiny shards of crystal that glitter like fresh snow.
Who built the Citadel, and when, are facts lost to time and now transformed into legend; however, most historians assume that the Citadel was built by the Vapra with the help of the Skeksis and their infinite wisdom. When I walked among its silvery, sunlit halls, it was difficult to believe otherwise. It is a structure unparalleled in beauty and importance, an obelisk built to honor the Vapra’s loyalty to the Skeksis Lords. It is the symbol of the Vapra, the home of the All-Maudra, and certainly the most impressive Gelfling architectural feat of our time.
One boastful ditty—meant to be humorous, I think, in an effort not to be utter blasphemy—goes so far as to compare the Citadel to the Skeksis’ Castle of the Crystal:
Twin Castles
One dark and one light
Black obsidian and silver ice
Lovely crowns of equal height
In this world exist but twice
Not all Gelfling revere the Citadel as highly as this. Wandering within the Citadel, I first heard a different song from an old woman while she swept. Day after day I returned, list
ening as she swept the halls and sang this song in her gentle, even voice. It struck me as beautiful, in its mundane way; perhaps an echo of how things were long ago, before the Citadel and the Skeksis and the All-Maudra.
Old Mauddy’s Song
Up and down the silver hall
Sweep, sweep, sweep
Tap of the broom in the quiet hall
Sweep, sweep, sweep
Morning sun through the windowpanes
Rise, rise, rise
Different yes but ever the same
Rise, rise, rise
Up and down the silver hall
Sweep, sweep, sweep
Tap of the broom in the quiet hall
Sweep, sweep, sweep
In the courtyard, watching the childlings play
Oh, oh, oh
Lassywings flying the day away
Oh, oh, oh
Up and down the silver hall
Sweep, sweep, sweep
Tap of the broom in the quiet hall
Sweep, sweep, sweep
Voices of children pretending to sleep
Now, now, now
Hush now the babes in the nursery
Now, now, now