Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Sermon #9

Yaway learned swiftly, and Kyron proved to be a patient yet demanding tutor. Over time, Yaway grew to resemble a human, and he was taught to be a masterful musician, a proficient poet, and a savvy soldier. Kyron would do most of his instruction as the two walked about or while doing chores. The two never sat still for long. There was always activity, things to do, places to go.

The first story Yaway ever remembered Kyron telling him was about a lion and a satyr. The satyr was walking through the forest when he saw the lion, moaning to itself. The satyr slowly approached and noticed one of the lion’s paws was soaked in blood. Upon closer inspection, he saw a thorn wedged firmly between the pads. He worked it free and was about to walk away when the Lion shouted, “Thank you, I won’t forget this.”

Years later, in an arena far away, that same satyr was being put to death for the amusement of the crowd. A cage was opened, and the beast bounded for the poor creature, who sunk to its knees in acceptance of his fate. As foam whipped off behind the lion, racing toward its meal, at the last minute it recognized it’s old friend, the satyr who mended his paw.

The lion embraced the satyr to the uproarious screams of the crowd, which grew ever more quiet as the two shed no blood, but instead tumbled in laughter about the arena floor. The lion batted at the satyr and rolled on its back, paws in the air. The crowd began to chant for the guards to slaughter them both. The satyr then addressed the crowd:

“You can punish this lion for failing to do its job, but it would be an unjust decision. If you must blame anyone, blame me, for I have done a favor for this lion in the past, and his refusal to tear me asunder is not abandonment of his duty, but in appreciation for the kindness I extended to him. Do not fault him, for gratitude is the sign of a noble soul.”

The crowd was so moved that they called for both to be spared.

Kyron always had a way of simplifying the complexities of the world. There was always a story to be told which illustrated every point Yaway had trouble grasping. And Kyron appreciated his pupil as much as Yaway valued his tutor, for Kyron had been aimless for some time before Yaway came into his life.

Before long, the questions became more than Kyron could answer. Who am I? Where did I come from? What is my purpose? These were questions Kyron could not answer, though he promised his young apprentice that he would do everything in his power to find out.

While Yaway was chopping down a tree for wood, Kyron told him he would need to venture out in order to seek answers. As twilight began to spread across the sky, there was no sign of Kyron. As darkness enveloped the entirety of heaven, Yaway continued his routine of preparing two dinners, and sat in front of his bowl, waiting patiently for Kyron to return.

Finally, just as Yaway’s eyelids were beginning to feel like lead weights, Kyron returned. He said he had much to discuss with Yaway, and the two talked well into the night between mouthfuls of soup.

Kyron had found the barn where Yaway had been, and he had spoken with as many of the creatures in the area as he could. His suspicions had been correct, Yaway was told, and Kyron was ready to explain with some certainty what had happened.

Yaway was told of how his race had battled viciously to the bitter end, how he was the last of his kind, and that there was no certainty about his parents, except that they were dead. He explained who the gods were, what their role was in the grander scheme, and told him he was destined to become more powerful than he or Kyron could ever imagine.

He explained that one day, the time would come that Kyron would not be enough for him, and that he would need to find a male, someone like him with whom he could spend the rest of his days. When Yaway asked how this could be possible, if he was the last of his kind, Kyron explained that they were going to have to make more gods.


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