Episode Twelve: Amongst The gods
Unexpectedly, Aktiarh came to take him to the refectory one night. A new thing, the Priest knocked respectfully and waited to be asked in, “I thought you might like to go for a ‘chat’,” he explained.
Once in the off-limit refectory Aktiarh seated him at the low table and busied himself mumbling counter-spells over everything before placing two big goblets there, and then searched along the wine shelves for an ornate flask. Blowing the dust off it, he sat beside Hamar.
“Tiresome isn’t it, young man, so much studying,” Aktiarh said, unbunging the top of the flask and turning to him, “I thought you might like the break. One can’t help noticing when a Majus flags. Hard for young Master majicians. Especially when they reach this point.”
Hamar eyed him, not knowing why he’d been privileged with the Elder’s refectory. He checked Aktiarh’s aura, which annoyingly stayed indistinct. The Priest filled one goblet and then the other, and then settled back with a leg astride the long bench in a lame attempt to seem chummy.
“The path is a long one I’m afraid, for us all,” the Priest sighed. They both raised their drinks in salute to wine-god Dionysius, appropriately first spilling out a dollop onto the floor in homage, and as Hamar carefully sipped, Aktiarh settled back on his elbow looking intently into his own reflection in his cup. Annoyingly, with Aktiarh’s eyes downturned Hamar couldn’t read them.
“You are exceptionally gifted, you know,” said Aktiarh, “one of the best I’ve ever tutored. But then you would be, a truly Master Majus in the making.” Aktiarh briefly looked up to smile across at him, regarding Hamar generously, and then he looked down again, apparently preoccupied with ruining his reflection in his cup with his finger.
“But even so, something even more special about you,” he said after a long swallow, “I didn’t see it at first, but then, there are perceptions and perceptions. Abilities vary in all of us. If you know what I mean.” It seemed some form of friendly confession, Hamar unsure why Aktiarh was doing it. They both sat looking at the table, and then Aktiarh drained the last of his goblet. “Another?” he said.
Hamar gulped down the almost full measure left and handed him the cup. His head went hot and swam a bit.
“Tedium, artifice,” said Aktiarh, handing him the full refill. “You’ve come through so much. But very skilled, very skilled. Still, hard to sit through lectures now,” he shook his head, looking at him, “knowing so much more than a teacher? Some of them…” he grinned and looked down again, but Hamar felt Aktiarh checking him out sideways all the same.
“Which class the worst, do you think…?” He motioned for Hamar to drink deep and then Aktiarh lounged back with a laugh, “putting up with Thebold and his hundred Cybelene chants or…?”
Hamar thought Aktiarh seemed genuinely interested. Hamar saw no real threat in him. In fact he actually saw Aktiarh as being likeable for the first time. No, as being exceptionally pleasant, – even, he surprised himself, heroic.
Hamar thought about it, “No. I’d say listening to Bharti droning Vedas.” He rested his cheek on his hand, “His breath! The room fills with it.” Aktiarh sputtered into his cup and came up laughing even more. It surprised Hamar, happily; “Drain hole, that’s all I can think of!” Hamar added. They both were laughing now.
“Rag-bucket!” added Aktiarh.
“Methick’s old shoes!” squealed Hamar.
Aktiarh poured himself another goblet, and before long another for Hamar, whose legs felt like they were stretching down long and heavy, as if filled with runny lead. He and Aktiarh admired the wine and Hamar supported himself on his elbows as he gazed into the depths in his cup, – his reflected face oddly seeming to come up to meet him. Aktiarh began humming a silly ditty to himself about two fat salamanders, and Hamar found himself picking it up. They matched notes and sang together between laughs, both moving a hand in time to the beat.
Hamar found himself more and more fascinated by the rocking liquid in his goblet, its sparkling disc reflecting the ceiling lights and the sparkles looking like a whole night sky in a cup and with his face like a big moon crowding in on it.
After a few more swallows Aktiarh regarded him, but now with a harsh edge to his words, “Can’t stand listening any more, hate the walls, the long nights, the ugly faces, – everything? Want to breathe other air, see the sky? How will you ever get away from all this!”
The Priest slapped down his empty cup, stood up straight, and put a firm hand on Hamar’s sagging shoulder. “Now you find out, my lad! What comes after this?” He stood tall, full of the answer. Hamar couldn’t stop staring foggily into his own cup at their two images now joined together there. “Take my hand!” the Priest ordered.
With a vice-like grip Aktiarh yanked Hamar to his feet beside him. “The wine, boy, the wine!” he said, directing Hamar’s gaze back down into the cup in his hand.
Hamar couldn’t unlock from staring into the purple liquid, and his will went soft! Suddenly his spirit form sucked out of his body! Both he and Aktiarh shrank small and zoomed straight into their reflections in the cup! Then they swooped back up large into a whole other scene which brilliantly glowed with light!
“Time for you to learn of over-rulers! Ones without earthly bodies! See things above our realm! You must know whom you’re pleasing with your highest rituals! There is social order, Hamar Majus, in the higher realms! Standards! Other kinds of bacchanalia,” he smiled with great intent. Once more the Red Priest knew of panoramas Hamar, even yet, had never even heard of. They arrived in a grand entranceway complete with multiple marble stairways leading in many directions,
As Hamar looked around in amazement at the grandeur the visit seemed to be an unexpected high honouring of him by Aktiarh, even a great liking. He would perhaps have done better to be wary, but in his bleary state and at this sorry stage in his life the privileged attention from the older man felt so good. They went up a stairway into another realm.
He needed the drugging, some of the beings that emerged in the glowing scene turned out to be grotesque. And also huge, – he recognized forms from his nightmares. Mainly though, they were exceptionally beautiful, very fit, grand in their sumptuous robes and togas as they went about their business.
Up another staircase he and Aktiarh walked through some palace courts into a meeting room, and began to hear the counsels deciding whole atmospheres below on Earth. The Priest steered him through the formalities of being introduced to these ‘gods.’ There were giant entities who clearly were the gods of the Greeks, the archaic deformed gods of the Indus people, the half-animal gods of the Chaldeans, and also of the Academy.
Hamar realised that these beings could outwork real forces on everyone below, – and surely always had been. He began to feel both humbled and more exalted by the new knowledge, and even more civil and included at the same time. He hadn’t realized how hungry he’d become to belong in real relationship, ( any relationship )!
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