OOC: Please inform me of any glaring inconsistencies.
IC:
This is part one of an ongoing narrative describing the life and times of a man named Jitanu.
"What did Deoali tell his companion at the Battle of Leuce, before they drew swords together and cut into the Kratoan wall of iron?" Amiph Lindrujit paced from mat to mat within the sultry warrior's chamber of Temple Deo. None of his pupils answered immediately. The amiph's bare feet slithered along the golden, teakwood floor, like a serpent from the temple's moon grove. He gently dragged a thin, but weighty staff behind him, lightly clipping the knees of pupils as he passed.
Jitanu was twelve at the time, young compared to many of his peers, but not the youngest. As the amiph sought an answer, Jitanu stared forward unwaveringly, his legs crossed, back upright, and palms laid upward on his bare knees. Amiph Lindrujit paused at Jitanu's mat, and still, Jitanu kept his composure. The amiph did not look at the boy, or any of the other pupils, but instead stared forward, eyeing the wall-sized, ornate tapestry occupying the entirety of the north wall. It was a remarkable work of woven ingenuity portraying the highlights of the Battle of Leuce: King Kuriguzulan fighting off dozens of Uggor, with the Jiphan warrior-prince Siprata by his side, a score of allied troops marching small in the background; in another frame, Siprata directing Jiphan pikes to the Hills of Dinya; and yet in another frame, Siprata plunging a knife into the tyrant Yeridur's chest. It was all rather violent imagery for one of Temple Deo's chambers, but it reminded the amiph of what he had been assigned to do.
"Jitanu," Amiph Lindrujit began. "Do you know the answer to my question?" Beads of sweat began to dance their way down Jitanu's brow. The boy was silent, nary a whimper escaping from his tightened, damp lips. The amiph raised the weighty stick high and lingered over Jitanu. Finally, the boy answered.
"He told him that too much pain is like too much pleasure: with too much of either one, you'll feel as if you are in heaven."
Thwack! The stick slapped full-force onto the back of Jitanu's neck.
Thwack! Another hit on his right side, below his ribs. Jitanu lurched forward in pain, but quickly returned to his position, tears pooling in his eyes.
"Tell me, class. Was the Battle of Leuce before or after Deoali learned from the Lemnat Poet of the Hamakua?"
"Before," the class proclaimed. Jitanu was ashamed, though he knew the class could easily deduce the correct answer from his incorrect one. Still, no one could give Amiph Lindrujit an answer to his original query. The amiph was restless in his quest for an accurate reply. He began to pace the room again. He asked the question again. He dragged the stick again. It was clear that he was going full circle. He'd come back around to Jitanu, smack him again, make an example of the boy. Jitanu continued to sit upright, fighting the urge to hunch forward and allow his pained muscles to relax. As he heard the stick dragging, he burrowed into his mind, searching for an answer to the amiph's query. With his eyes closed, he pondered for what felt like eternity, until Amiph Lindrujit was once again hovering over his mat, stick raised to his side.
Jitanu raised his hand, and some of the other pupils gasped. "Yes, Jitanu."
"He told him that, like death by old age, killing can be natural, too." Amiph Lindrujit bowed, and lowered the stick. Jitanu resisted a deep sigh, instead allowing his breath escape gradually.
"His exact words were: 'Friend, do not fear sin on the battlefield. For just as an elder may be killed by the natural limits of his body, so too may a man die by the nature of another.'" Amiph Lindrujit walked to the front of the chamber, and used his stick to point to the tapestry on the wall. "And who was Deoali's companion in that battle?"
The question was easy. "Siprata," the entire class replied in unison. The amiph nodded and bowed to his pupils, and they in turn leaned forward on their mats. Class was adjourned.
As the other students rose from their mats, rolled them up, and exited the wooden chamber, Jitanu took his time, his body incapable of swift, sudden movements after such a severe blow to his side. The amiph remained behind, reading from a tome with tanned pages. When Jitanu finished rolling his cloth and storing it in a hemp case, he felt the back of his neck -- it had swollen to three times its normal size, and was as pointed as a ripened durian spike. Finally realizing he could relax, Jitanu allowed his head to slump downward. Amiph Lindrujit noticed the boy carrying his wounds awkwardly. As Jitanu began to head for the entryway, eager to slip his feet into his straw sandals and leave that cursed chamber, the amiph called his name.
"Jitanu." The boy turned, red-faced and unable to look the amiph in the eyes. He separated his legs appropriately and leaned forward slightly, in a posture of acquiescence.
"Yes, Amiph Lindrujit," the boy quivered.
"You are the son of a merchant, are you not?"
"I am, Amiph Lindrujit." The amiph nodded in contemplation.
"What does he trade?"
"Spices, mostly. And exotic woods and incense." Another nod from the amiph, as he scanned the boy.
"Did you travel with him? Go to distant lands by his side? See the beginnings of our faith?"
"Long ago, Amiph Lindrujit. Shortly after I was born. I remember little."
"Yes," the amiph chuckled. "I have noticed that you have trouble...
remembering." Jitanu blushed. The amiph became solemn once more. "What brought you here, Jitanu? There are few sons of merchants in the chambers of this temple. Perhaps in Leuce, you may find a few, attempting to flee their family's burden. But not here. Not in the middle of the jungle." The amiph placed his reading material on the floor. "But you are not here to escape a burden, are you?"
"You read me well, amiph. I did not view my family's wealth as a burden. Nor do I still."
"You take pain well, for a boy. I've hit others like that, many times before. Not many can regulate the pain."
"My father taught me to take it well. He, too, sought Iehor."
"A merchant seeking Iehor? Yes, there are many of those. They don't seem to succeed, do they, boy? There's a giant and a foreign god to our north. And many question the authenticity of Iehor, mostly because of your father's kind." The amiph began to stroll towards the entryway. "That is why we practice here, at the Deo. Life is harsh here, Jitanu. But I have faith that you can live through a harsh life."
"My father taught me a harsh life." The amiph appeared puzzled. "He was a pupil here once, too, and later, a master. He was the amiph you once called Samhese." The amiph's eyes widened, but he quickly reverted to his stern face.
"Samhese was clever, but he could only take so much. Perhaps like your father, you will flee when times become difficult."
"That is the lesson he wishes to teach me, Amiph Lindrujit. To flee, when times become difficult."
* * * * * * *
Five years later, on the eve of Jitanu's seventeenth nameday.
"Beautiful, Jitanu, as usual." Jitanu glided a wide chisel across the bottom of the teakwood sculpture, tapping the edge of the tool with a wooden hammer. He was almost finished with his piece, and was now carving out the grooves where toes would soon form. The sculpture was his first life-sized rendition of Deoali. "It will go in the main hall, by the altar. I'm sure of it." Amiph Euresh always praised Jitanu, much to the envy of his pupils. Yet this was counter-weighted by the extreme punishments he continued to receive from Amiph Lindrujit in the Chamber of Siprata, punishments that Jitanu seemed to relish. But out here, in the gravel courtyard of Temple Deo, Jitanu was treated like a prince for his talents -- not only with the chisel, but with the brush, the mould and deckle, and the thread and needle.
"You have found Iehor, Jitanu, through your talents. May you continue to produce such relics of great beauty."
"Thank you, Amiph Euresh."
For the entire afternoon, Amiph Lindrujit stood in the shadows of the main hall's veranda, keeping a watchful eye on Jitanu in the courtyard of artisans. That evening, when Jitanu entered the Chamber of Siprata, he carried a smile, along with a body riddled in bruises -- all inflicted by the strict amiph of the warrior's chamber.
Jitanu arrived to a room emptied of his peers. Only Amiph Lindrujit remained, and he held his staff in one hand, a book in another. "You are late, Jitanu. Too late."
"I apologize, Amiph Lindrujit. Where is the class?"
"Dismissed, due to your arrogance. You dare arrive here at such a time, long after the lesson begins?"
"Amiph Euresh said it would be acceptable. He gave me his consent."
"A weak fool. Come, Jitanu. I would teach you a lesson." Jitanu approached hesitantly, and laid his mat on the floor. The teakwood creaked as he took a seat on his cloth. "You use your hands much, Jitanu, do you not?" Jitanu nodded. "Why?"
"I channel my quest for Iehor through my hands, Amiph Lindrujit."
"Only the mind can reach Iehor, fool. You seek too much. You worship through your hands, but you are only creating greed for praise and glory. I'm calling you out, son of Samhese. I believe you to be a fraud, like your father before you." He walked towards Jitanu, his staff featured prominently in his right hand. "Your peers are strong. They attempt Iehor through solitary confinement, and, if need be, through bloodshed. They do not carve into wood and call it the 'sights and sounds of the universe', as those enlightened have described. They contemplate and protect, as all good monks from Temple Deo should."
"Your mind is closed, Amiph Lindrujit." Jitanu believed these words to be true, but as he said them, he also believed them to be extremely poor timing. Amiph Lindrujit let Jitanu's words wash over him, and he continued to saunter over to Jitanu's mat. "Why, unlike most other Jiphani, do you shun the arts, Amiph Lindrujit?"
"The arts have made us weak. We are threatened, fool. Threatened by a god who has taken souls from Iehor. Threatened by giants and demons. I disagree with my colleague Euresh. He believes even warriors should know how to carve an image, or paint the strokes of the Hamakua verses. I believe a warrior should hone his mind, so that he may unleash it upon the enemies of the enlightened."
"Just as the warrior-prince did at the Battle of Leuce, under guidance from Deoali," Jitanu replied. "Yet he, too, understood the importance of the Jiphan culture. And he, too, accepted the Hamakua verses as vital to Leuce, just as vital as the Indagahor teachings."
"He faced his threat alongside many allies. We face ours alone," the amiph replied. He now hovered above Jitanu. "Your hands, Jitanu. Lay them on the floor, beyond your mat." Jitanu looked at the amiph. He understood immediately what the amiph intended. Reluctantly, he placed his hands on the teakwood. Amiph Lindrujit raised his staff high into the air. "You must learn this lesson, before you become your father."
Thwack! The staff came down hard, laying clean into both of Jitanu's hands. Jitanu pulled his hands away in pain, as Amiph Lindrujit raised his staff again. "Your hands, Jitanu! Your hands!" But Jitanu kept his hands from the wood. The staff now whirled towards his right ear.
Thwack! Jitanu fell to the side. "You suddenly cannot take pain? You are more like your father than I had imagined." The staff swung again, this time plunging into Jitanu's kneecaps. He squirmed with pain.
Amiph Lindrujit waltzed around Jitanu, nudging him with the staff, until he found his hands. He raised the staff high, and as it came swiftly downward, Jitanu grabbed it with his calloused palms. Jitanu glanced for a moment at the master of the Chamber of Siprata. He disarmed the amiph with a deft shake of the staff, rose to his feet with a slight limp, and swiftly
thwacked the old man's ankles. The amiph fell to the ground, but did not yell or resist. Jitanu stood, Amiph Lindrujit's staff in his hand. Looking down on the amiph, he felt pity for him.
"You fail to realize why a warrior must craft objects, Amiph Lindrujit." Jitanu swung the staff across the amiph's face. A medley of crimson and sweat stained the golden teakwood underneath the amiph's jaw.
"Hearts and minds cannot be won with blood alone." Jitanu let the staff whirl once more, this time towards the amiph's neck. "And just as an elder may be killed by the natural limits of his body, so too may a man die by the nature of another."
NOTE: This map will be continuously updated and reposted as other locations are revealed.