Zion - LotNM Character Prologue (Kayte Delier)
Zion - Path of the Moon Mother Prologue, Kayte Dilier
"That doesn't mean you had the right to give it away!" the teenage wolverine exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the wooden table.
"If you're not in my house anymore than anything you leave behind isn't yours anymore." the older wolverine countered, crossing his arms as he glared at the teen from the other side of the table.
"I moved out. Isn't that enough for you?" the youth countered, standing up, "You thought I couldn't make it on my own, but now that you see I can you figure that you can just give away anything I didn't take with?"
"If it's in my house and I don't want it then yes, I CAN give it away." the gray-muzzled wolverine countered in a grumbling tone.
"That's unfair!" the teenager shouted, hitting the table again.
"Please, young Master Trelyn," Kayte spoke in a soft, soothing tone, "This is a place of divine worship and peace." she rested a paw on the teen's clenched fist, "Please calm your voice."
"If you won't listen to me, then listen to the priestess, boy." the older, gray muzzled wolverine across from him at the table stated. The table was small and square, measuring hardly three feet to a side. It was made small on purpose, encouraging quiet and reasonable discussion during arbitration and mediation... but the priestess was more concerned that it allowed the two wolverines to be within striking distance of one another.
"See? This is all he ever does!" the teen accused, motioning to the older male with his free paw, attention focused on Kayte, "I'm not even living under his roof anymore but he still thinks he can boss me around and control me!"
"Calm. Your. Voice." the priestess spoke each word as if it were its own sentence, eyes meeting and staring into the young wolverine's. The teen opened his muzzle as if about to continue but, as Kayte's words made the will of Tah'aveen manifest, he slowly closed it.
"He thinks because he has a job and makes a few coins every week that he can do as he pleases and ignore anything he doesn't agree with." the older wolverine spoke up once there was silence, "I told him when he moved out that anything he didn't take--"
"Silence... please." Kayte announced to the older wolverine, who needed no divine encouragement to listen to a priestess' request.
Silence filled the room for several more seconds before the teen finally spoke again, this time in a much more reasonable tone, "I feel like he doesn't respect me." and, he added at length, "I'm living on my own now... I have a good job working at the stables."
Kayte glanced to the older wolverine who was slumped forward on the table rubbing the bridge of his muzzle in frustration. After several seconds he looked up, first to the teen and then to Kayte, "Trelyn does have a job... but I KNOW he can do better and--"
The priestess interrupted him, "Are you disappointed with your son, Master Blayne?"
The older wolverine was taken aback by the question and he sat up, looking first to the priestess then to his son, then to the priestess again, "No. Of course not! I--"
Kayte interrupted him again, "Have you ever told him you were disappointed with him?" She could feel the teen's paw tense up as he made to answer, but she silenced the youth with a gentle squeeze against his paw.
"I... might have..." Blayne responded, "But I didn't mean--"
"Are you proud of your son, Master Blayne?" Kayte asked.
"Of course!" the older wolverine spoke emphatically, and with genuine emotion.
"Have you ever told him that?" the priestess inquired.
"No." Trelyn said quietly.
Kayte looked from wolverine to wolverine and slowly reached out to take hold of the older male's paw, "Master Blayne... why did you give away your son's belt knife?" she looked to the gray-muzzled badger for an answer.
"He left it at my house." Blayne answered, "If he moved out then anything he--"
"Why did you give away your son's belt knife, Master Blayne?" Kayte repeated.
"He didn't take it with him, and it had already been two weeks... so I gave it away." the older wolverine said. It was a lie-- as a priestess versed both in the ways of mediation and in the greater understanding of people, it was not hard for Kayte to tell. The true underlaying problem was not that a belt knife was given away to a neighbor. There was more to it.
"Why did you give away your son's belt knife, Master Blayne?" Kayte asked a third time... and this time the older wolverine withdrew his paw from the priestess' and covered his face... and began sobbing.
"My wife... his mother, Tah'aveen keep her soul..." he sobbed, "she gave him that knife for his fifteenth birthday."
"And you gave it away anyway." the youth accused. Kayte turned to silence him, but he didn't need it-- the teen's cheeks were wet with his own tears, and it was obvious that he had no intention of aggression.
"It's like he--" Blayne began, but turned away from her to look right at Trelyn, "it's like you didn't respect that... like you thought it wasn't good enough to take with you." the older wolverine accused, tears still coming down his cheeks.
"I left it because it belonged there." Trelyn explained, "We were a family in that house. All three of us lived there until Mom... until she... was gone." the youth faltered, "I left the kife there because Mom belonged there even after she passed away, she belonged there."
The older wolverine sat back in his chair, "I thought..."
The teen crossed his arms, "No... you just knew." he was still crying as well, "you didn't bother thinking, you just figured you already knew why I did everything... you always think you know why I do everything and you never stop and think about it." he wiped his cheeks, "you don't even bother asking."
"You didn't give away the knife, did you, Master Blayne?" Kayte asked softly. The older wolverine looked at her and slowly shook his head.
"Why did you say you did?" the teen asked.
Blayne cleared his throat, "Because..." he rubbed his face, "because I thought you didn't care..."
"But I did!" Trelyn affirmed.
"At that point, I figured you were just careless... not valuing such an important gift. A mother can only give her son his first knife once." Blayne sighed.
"So you wanted to hurt me by telling me you gave it away?"
The older wolverine sighed, "You're right, Trelyn... you're right. Sometimes I don't think..." he sighed deeply with a soul-numbing weariness, "I miss your mother, and with you moving out it..." he sighed again, "it just makes me miss her all the more." he looked up across the table at his son, "I'm sorry, Tre... I'm not perfect... I'm just a tired old man that misses his wife."
Kayte glanced from wolverine to wolverine, and quietly added, "Just his wife?"
Blayne lowered his head, "And his son."
"Tah'aveen can see everything, Master Blayne." Kayte spoke softly, "You have the knife with you, don't you?" The older wolverine nodded his head silently. "You've kept it on you ever since you found it at your home?" she asked. Again, Blayne nodded, "In memory of your wife?"
The older male nodded, and finally spoke, "To keep family close to my heart."
"You do not need a trinket for that, Master Blayne... she is always with you." Kayte offered.
"I know." Blayne confirmed, "but 'family' means more than just my wife." he looked to his son, and their eyes met. Kayte did not need to say anything else; she slowly stood and made her way out of the room, letting the two wolverines find comfort in one anothers' embraces and tears, and words that should have been said long before she needed to become involved.
"You did very well, Child." an aged-yet-strong voice greeted her once she had closed the door to the room behind her.
"Thank you, your Excellency." she bowed her head toward the High Priest.
"Your approach was somewhat unorthodox, but the end result was admirable." he stated.
"How was I unorthodox, High Priest?" she requested, cocking her head to the side slightly as she looked toward him.
"You gave the impression of taking sides, Child." the High Priest explained.
"I wished them to feel that I was an advocate for them both, your Excellency. They both had valid viewpoints." she explained.
"And you prodded them quite strongly without providing them any real direction." he pointed out.
"I felt it important that they come to their own conclusions... I merely acted as a gentle voice helping them to find their own way across the tangled path they set for themselves." she smiled faintly, quite pleased that she had finally managed to parrot the High Priest's words he had used to describe mediation to her so many years prior.
"Tah'aveen smiles upon you, my Daughter." the High Priest acknowledged.
"And you, your Excellency." she bowed her head again, "Was there anything more?" she inquired respectfully.
"Yes, Child." the High Priest confirmed, "I wish to speak with you tomorrow after the noon day repast. I have an urgent task that will require a representative from the temple."
She had never been chosen for an 'urgent task' before, and the thought intrigued her, "Your Excellency?" she inquired.
"Your connection to the Goddess will be required for the sake and safety of an entire group of travelers." he announced.
"Outside the city?" she questioned, starting to understand his meaning.
"Very much so, my Daughter..." he acknowledged, "You travel to Zion."