It's not the moon that's brought Emily back to the Chantry in this time of relative quiet. The calm beyond the storm (out past the breakers [open water]) has treated her well. There is a lightness to her step, a broadening of her smile. The veil behind her eyes has lifted, somewhat, and that renewed warmth has touched her voice. This rekindling carries a responsibility; she did not survive (surpass) on her strengths alone. If anything, it is a sense of duty that brings her here tonight.
Pro Fide. Pro Utilitate Hominum.
Emily does not know if her cabalmates frequent the house, check on its surety, lend anything to the common defense. In this particular time of summer, when this land's people remember the birth of a commonwealth and the banding together of brother-states, she is surprised that more is not done to bolster, to renew their common ground. To make ready the defenses.
A time of quiet is not a time for complacency. It is the moment they all need to catch their breath again, before ducking their heads under. She understands and that knowledge is not from her own mind (heart [soul]) alone. Something leans heavily on her, pushes her to take the lessons of Edom and the Chalice to heart.
She knocks, twice, on the Chantry door and then pushes it open. This is a Lara-free space, for the moment, and Emily enters it with less trepidation than before. She is wearing jeans and a polo shirt -- white, clean with neatly turned collar. Unlike her own flat, Emily does not toe her shoes off in the doorway here. It will take many more months before she forgets what this floor has seen, what the carpet carried away when it was removed.
She pauses at the message board, reviews it, and then heads down to the Node. She has grown; it shows in the purposeful paces that carry her down the steps to the basement room. It shows in the comfortable cadence of her footfalls. The past few months have hastened her transition from Apprentice to Initiate; she is not yet at that threshold, but it approaches ever more quickly.
[Israel Cohen] [[Per + Aware]]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 5, 5, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Israel Cohen] [[Dammit, Kahseeno! BEHAVE!]]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)
[Emily Littleton] [Awareness]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] [Damnit, Kahseeno, aren't you tired of this game?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 7, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Israel Cohen] Pro Fide. Pro Utilitate Hominum.
Were such thoughts vocalized and shared, Israel would heartily agree. Were they openly spoken Israel would understand the merit, the intention, the Oath, the Promise, the Drive, the Will. There are any number of ways to view the abilities [the Power] of which they were capable each in their own measure. For her part Israel [who was born Jocheved; who is many names and a True Name and more besides] sees it much in the same capacity as she views her duties as a Kabbalist: To aid. To repair. To leave at least one small portion of the world [and, more so, the lives within it] better than what her soul found in this incarnation.
Such work is never truly done.
Emily may wonder at defenses; she may wonder if everyone is just lying low; lying languid; taking their ease and hiding out until the need for action is once again hurled out at them in such a manner as cannot be ignored. For at least a few this is not the case [and whatsoever two of my children speak divinely on earth shall be held so in heaven] and even if it is only a few it can mean everything. It can make a difference. Emily knows this. How she has bolstered others in these last months; how she has come to realize that even a small measure, a small portion [speaking purely in relative terms] can mean so much, alter so much, strengthen so much. Unbeknown to one another, these two women can certainly understand the empowering merit of lending support.
These past months have seen her own share of turmoil; Israel's pushed herself hard, harder even than normal [which is saying oh so very, very much] to try and fulfill demands, responsibilities, to attempt to fill niches that seemed to need filling by what capabilities she could muster together. And her work is not yet done [it never will be, not until she's left this earth and even then she may simply await the next cycle, the next attempt to further fulfill what part - great or small - her soul has to play in this Creation].
So when Emily descends down to the basement [though she's seen that it is unlike any basement one is likely to find; this is a small cave system well and deep down below the house. it breathes just so.. can you feel it?] she finds that she is not alone. When she's at the end of the stairs [Israel counted the sound of footfall and waited so as not to risk surprising someone and resulting in a bad spill] she hears a voice - perhaps familiar enough in its airy mezzo-soprano, a quiet, breathy warmth. "Hullo, Emily."
She's in the small stone-walled passageway that leads to the Node proper, to the Well, to Catherine who is at Peace but whose energies thrum in the air to even those who are not already sensitive to such things. It pulls. It beckons. It fortifies and soothes. She's dressed in black capri pants, ballet-style black slippers, shrugging on a black cardigan over a ruby-red tank top to ward off the chill down here; the perpetual cool that smells faintly of steamy water in the distance; of fresher, greener scents more recently. The length and weight of her hair is neatly braided, practical and out of the way. Guide-cane: Absent. Hazel eyes, unseeing, that settle somewhere in the direction of the bottom of the stairs, not as close to its mark as she sometimes manages because she hasn't heard the younger woman speak yet to adjust. "It's good to run into you... how are you?"
Other people ask such things by rote, a mere habit of social tit-for-tat; the blind woman has a way of asking, just a certain inflection, that says she really cares to know, without pushing.
[Emily Littleton] Without pushing...
There is a time to press and a time to lay back in waiting. It is a difficult balance to strike and this city has seemed driven in the best and worst of ways since she opened her eyes. Emily's hands are wrapped around the strap of her messenger bag, settled there while she watches the stairs for guidance on her way down. The girl has come here more often, since her eyes opened to Prime sight. It is a place of comfort to her, something to marvel at.
It is why we protect this place. An upwelling of creation. (To touch the face of God...)
There is Wonder, still, for her in this world. She breathes it in; it transforms her: Grace. Israel's voice finds her and Emily places one hand on the wall to help stay her forward momentum through the passageway. It places her, firmly in her sense of where these tunnels lead.
"Israel," she says, and her voice is warm. It is pleased. There is gentleness and respect twined in it. The debt of gratitude that the Apprentice owes this Disciple is deep, it cuts to the quick.
They meet in the half-light of the passageway and it is filled to overflowing with the sense of what they are, what they work. (Hopeful [Reverent] Sorrowful [Unrelenting] Piercing). It is a poignant thing, these two Wills. They elevate, inspire.
"I am well," she says, and it rings true. Sincerity. "I hope you are as well." This is genuine. There is warmth in the girl yet. Their struggles has not squeezed it out of her. Their sorrows have not pulled down her brilliance. If anything, she is stronger than before. (Faith [rekindled]).
"What brings you to the Well today?" she asks, and it carries the respect and reverence of her Calling. She is growing into her voice, even as the Singers have yet to claim her as their own. It suits her; there is no other thing she could have been so truly.
[Israel Cohen] "I am," spoken in response to Emily's returned query [voiced Hope]; a slight hitch of her lips upwards, passing, placid humour. "Tired, but well." And she is. For all else that is going on, that weighs, that worries, that drives and commands, she is whole and healthy; those she holds dear are alive if wounded [at some deeper part of them]. Death cannot be fixed: All other things, with time and care...
[the Sh'ma prayer - a stronghold of Judaic practice - contains the passage:
With all your Heart
With all your your Soul
With all your Might
It speaks of loving God, the Creator; but those of her tradition know it is to be applied in a plethora of other ways as well. A vanguard. A mantra. Passion that needn't be flamboyantly displayed because it dwells deep down in the marrow to counter the burden of Sorrow]With all your your Soul
With all your Might
There is pleasure in hearing the genuine note to the younger womans words; the warmth there. "You sound well... that's wonderful." And it is. She's seen too many beaten down by their Awakenings, beaten down when thrust in the midst of trials of Faith, trials of Horror, trials of Mettle. Of Humanity. There is a trace of pride, too: It doesn't matter that she doesn't really know Emily all that way: She takes joy in hearing that someone is flourishing all the same. For what she's witnessed of the Apprentice [though not really. grown. beyond.], Emily is an admirable example for Awakened, new and old alike.
Then, "I come here most days. To meditate. To speak of Catherine on the rare occasion it's possible. I've been growing some plants adjacent to the cave the Node lies in... experimenting so to speak, to see if they soak in any Tass from proximity. It could be helpful." She explains these things freely, with a subdued but real air of someone who takes a real measure of pleasure in sharing such things. "Tonight I'm hoping to create another set of Healing Charms... it seems fitting to have some on hand in the event they are needed instead of scrambling to make them at the last minute." A pause again; she tilts her head to one side, bird-like.. inquisitive. "Though I can hold off if you wished to meditate or pray in private?"
[Emily Littleton] "Prayer need not be a private thing, or a silent thing," Emily says, mindful that her tone be merely reflective. She doesn't know Israel's beliefs, and she does not lecture or cajole. Emily's own have found their way back to her heartsblood, they've seeped back into her marrow; they Sing.
(Wherever two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.)
"If it is not too presumptuous," she begins, and the formality and strictures of her upbringing come forward in her unsteadiness. "I would like to help. If I might. I would very much like to learn to make charms, as you have, to prepare my own cabal and others. To mend hurts with more than needle and thread, or rudimentary first aid. I know I am only a student now, but as an Emissary is it appropriate that I might lend my hands in support?"
She has been through the Crucible, suffered her own loss of Faith, she has weathered even the Avatar Storm, and yet Emily has not lost the drive and the desire that pushed her through all of this. In the quiet times, she is not willing to languish, to rest upon laurels. There is always another mountain to climb (none to high), another task to take on.
Someday, she hopes, she will offer back as much as Israel has to her community. (Pro Utilitate Hominum).
[Israel Cohen] "Amen." She speaks the ancient word a little differently than most Americans or Brits might, most English speakers in general. Not aye- or ah-men but a subtle oh-men, just enough of a differentiation to keep it distinct from the standard 'omen'. And while another might say it sardonically or hesitantly; Israel speaks it with quiet solidness; with a conviction that - like so many other aspects in her - she feels no need to flaunt. Why flaunt it when you can simply live it to the best of your ability? [she falters, she struggles, ah, yes, like any other person does. perhaps there is meaning to choosing to go by her middle name in the awakened world instead of her first: The struggle and the promise [hope] of unity.]
It is enough to speak of a possible bond between them. Perhaps not the same Religious views but, ah, yes: Faith. Faith more important than Dogma.
Then she is silent as Emily voices her request, noting with kindliness the slight unsteadiness; noting more so that she has the gumption to desire to help in the first place. And hearing, perhaps, an echo of her own desires and cravings-to-learn [to better oneself for the sake of usefulness] that draws another, amiable [touched. respectful] smile to her lips. "It is entirely appropriate, Emissary or not. And I would love the help. This kind of knowledge is fairly useless if horded for no greater reason than an over abundance of independence or pride." Her own tone, too, is careful not to seem lecturing: This is simply how she, herself, feels on the subject. "I'm not entirely certain of your abilities so far: Do you have at least a rudimentary understanding of the Spheres of Life and Prime?"
Then, "Come... we can discuss it and reach an accord, hopefully, while I make preparations." It seems that even if Emily can't help out entirely Israel is still willing to show her what she's doing. So she lifts a hand along with the words, making an open, beckoning gesture so that the words are not a command but an invitation, before turning to move through the passage and into the larger cut-stone cave that holds the large, carved-granite Well.
[Emily Littleton] The way that Israel shapes that word tells Emily much. Oh-men, not ah-mein, not ah-wen. It's the way that Emily says Alleluia, not Hallelujah. It's the way she covers her head and shoulders when she comes to Mass or enters a Sanctuary. These things, these sure and steady rituals, are as much a part of what they are as the Faiths they carry as passengers in their very bones.
"I do," she tells Israel. "I learned Life not long after I awakened. From a Verbena I knew at the time," this is said easily, now, without as much of the residual sadness. "Prime is a newer gift." And she means gift; she uplifts it for what is was. This was hard earned, almost achingly slow to come. She, a Singer to be, did not wake up with the Song on her lips (but still knew it in her very heart).
The Apprentice follows the smaller woman through to the place where the path opens out into the Well Room. She stops at the threshold, observes that break point for a moment. It is very much like entering a Sanctuary, to Emily. It holds the same Grace and Reverence. She bows, but does not cover, her head here. She slips her messenger bag's strap up and over her head, sets it aside where it will not be in Israel's way. But not until she pulls the string of small stone beads (consecrated [Steadfast]) from one of its many pockets. This is her tool for Prime, her focus; her birthright and heritage.
[Israel Cohen] "Excellent." And she means it, "It's wonderful that you learned Life early on... I've only just pushed myself in that area rather recently myself. Frankly, I'm rather sad I waited so long." Sadness. Sorrow. The strength of that Resonance is ultimately only the barest indication of what her Avatar compels her to feel: Lamentations with a purpose. To hear, to feel, to know so often of pain and hurt and loss not to drown in it [though, yes, at times she almost does] but to be driven and fueled to ease it where she might; end it where she can; combat those who bring it with cruelty when she must. Rather sad, she says, but it is the past tense. She's gotten past it. "And Prime.. yes. A Gift." Solemn; it cannot be called a true understanding because they do not know one another so well; they have not walked in each others shoes.. but there is so far a resonance between them that rings true.
Emily settles herself, readies herself, while Israel feels along the wall with one hand and outstretched fingertips to guide her way to the left of the Well where she's laid down her own satchel, a fairly large affair for someone of her size. She crouches before it and begins to draw out certain items: A bit of dark shale - clay that shimmers of quartz and calcite; a formed leather case, about eight inches in length, five inches wide and an inch and a half or so in depth. Each was tucked away in its own pouch or compartment of the satchel, well-organized, located through memory and the guide of small bits of custom sewn black beads like a rudimentary form of Braille.
"The process of making Charms is actually fairly easy," this spoken as she rises and moves closer to the Well for now, running one hand along its carved, age-weathered edge. "It just requires patience, planning and the right 'tools'. Up until recently I had to depend on finding Tass with Resonance suited to whatever the function of the Charm in question. That's how an Initiate in Prime is able to handle the Enchantment. Recently, though, I've reached an understanding of Prime where I can Enchant using raw Quintessence from any source of any Resonance." Here she pauses, her head tilting again, an understanding smile lilting her lips just slightly... "Let me know if there are any terms or ideas you're unfamiliar with, alright?"
[Emily Littleton] Israel sets out her tools, and Emily watches. She is a good student, attentive and acute aware of her surroundings. She is also patient when she has a reason to be. Tonight it is not so difficult for her to keep quiet, to absorb, to keep still. She takes note of how Israel structures her life to overcome her deficiencies. It is not unlike the ways Emily structures her own to improve efficiencies. She can understand it without calling attention to it; Emily can find kinship with almost anyone.
"Tass is precipitated Quintessence?" she asks, seeking confirmation of this new term. Perhaps it is something Owen has taught her that she simply isn't sure of just yet. "Tangible, and locked into a pattern of some sort. Yes?"
And to an earlier thought, she adds: "Life was the first talent I learned after my Awakening. The first new thing, not innately understood. It's also the one I've made most use of; hope to learn more of in the future. Especially after what's happened. There is a need for Knights and Warriors, for fighting the Good Fight. There's just as keen a need for people who, like you, bring them home safely afterward. I don't know where I am going to fit into all of this, but I would like to be able to help bring my friends and loved ones home after the battles. To make them hale and whole again."
[Israel Cohen] "Yes, for the most part." Nodding, she moves to sit down on the ground, legs tucked under her so she is sitting back on her heels after slipping off her shoes, her back to the well. She carefully places the leather case to one side - near at hand - and is holding the oblong of shale loosely in her leg hand. Her pose, her tone is pleasantly, quietly conversational. These are serious subjects, but she handles them with tenderness rather than dour sternness. For all of the Sorrow that has seeped and attached into this woman's marrow it is clear enough to the perceptive that he own true nature is much softer, gentler and open to joy, to hope. Not flamboyant. Not a hedonist. But she embraces this magic they speak of like a gift; a wonder. "I like to liken Tass to Quintessence that crystallizes along the pattern of a material item. It is apart from the Quintessence that infuses each and every thing, being, place, event in the world - the Universe - in that it is not the true make up of the individual Pattern. Draw too much inherent Quintessence from a set pattern and you will damage the Pattern, if not obliterate it. Tass creeps along the Pattern, it is present but apart... drawing it out does not inflict the same Pattern damage." Lifting her left hand she rubs a knuckle under her slim, slip of a nose and her lips curve, a subdued smile. "I see Keter - Prime - as Light and resonance. Resonance in its mundane sense; a sound that chimes in all of us in everything. To me Tass is like a harmony - or sometimes a dissonance - to that inherent resonance. Make sense?"
She listens, too. Listens attentively when Emily speaks of Life and her desires to learn more, to be able to aid. She listens with the matter of one who does so in earnest: Too often people are only waiting for their turn to speak again. So after Emily speaks she is silent for a moment, pensive, choosing her words. "All things must have a counterpart -- Knights and Warriors need Healers; need reminders - at times - of compassion and mercy andlife when they become immersed in lives of battle and death. Just as, at times, Healers need reminders of the need for Justice and Battle to combat blights, abominations and 'boojums' in general, to coin Sol's phrase." Her lisp tug there; a quirk, a passing humour [deep, deep affection]. Then more serious again: Her head tilts, chin raises upwards slightly. She cannot truly make eye contact with Emily but she turns her face up towards the younger woman's direction nonetheless. "I think the most blessed among us are those who are able to find some kind of balance between both... though playing to ones strengths isn't amiss either. Either way, both paths have their pain, sorrows, sacrifices and difficulties."
[Emily Littleton] To strike a balance between both paths is most likely where Emily's walk will take her. As much as she dislikes the militancy of this first year, it has come to suit her in some small ways. She has taken up arms against the suffering that plagued her people (Are these now your people, Little? [Were they ever not?] Are they not, all of them, our people?); she's helped to stabilize them once the fray has passed. She is only beginning down this path, but it calls her to acts of Compassion, of Protection. She is an unlikely Guardian, but she is here all the same.
"I see it as Light, as well. And also as sound," she says, though the latter admission is quieter. It is a thing remembered, and a precious thing. Something that tethers her to the girl she once was, something that releases her from the life she left behind. "So that makes sense to me."
There's a Reverence, in Emily, even before the Working has begun. It rides her skin, slips in between her words. It is brilliance, Grace. These things they share, this communion, here; this is magic, it is intimate, it is honored and sacred. The Fellowship, itself, is a sacrament of Faith. So she treats it with deep respect, holds it in high regard; she elevates it with mind, heart, and spirit.
"Nothing in this life seems to be without sacrifice," Emily says and, while there's gravity to it, there is also acceptance. "We give up so much for what we become." She smiles now, and it reaches into her words. It's a serious thing, weighty and resonant. The girl is still an Apprentice but she is growing, quickly. Soon she will outstrip her rank and come into her own.
[Israel Cohen] "We do give up much." The pause there lingers; then, softer still; a thought vocalized more to herself than anything else. "Much is wrenched away." [lamentations. ah, the earth itself holds each wound, each pain, each cruelty; each loss we inflict upon ourselves, each other and have inflicted in turn. the golem groans and with earth-water-fire wounds pushes, pushes her to rectify what can likely never truly be set to rights] She takes a slow breath; her lips curve again; a bittersweet smile but a smile in truth. "But we gain much, too. For all the trials, I do not believe God wishes us a life of pure sacrifice and self denial. In Kabbalah we are taught that the purpose of every Soul is to find some way in which to repair the world. That includes repairing and tending to ourselves at times. I understand that need to push yourself, to achieve... trust me, I understand. I've also learned - the hard way - the merit of taking time to yourself." She lets Emily take the words as she will -- she does not presume to lecture speaking only of her own lessons. Most of which are far from finished. They are all of them works in progress.
A slight blink... "I digress." Taking hold of the Shale more firmly she begins to carefully draw out a pattern on the stone floor before her, using the fingers of her other hand as a guide as a measure, feeling along the stone for hints and markers to measure out the size of the diagram since she doesn't have the benefit of sight. All the same there is a sense of long practice here. She is drawing circles of good uniformity in size and space. Circles with Hebrew characters marked within them. "Like I said, my roots are in Kabbalah and Judaism as a whole. Obviously it isn't required we both see eye to eye on the dogma or liturgy or fine details of our beliefs - Paradigms - but there should be a basic, core understanding before we can work a Weaving together." She continues drawing, tapping one of the circles with a sooty fingertip. "This is the layout of the Sefirot known as the Tree of Life. Divine Emanations at their core, they signify what Kabbalah believes to be the aspects of God. Keter is the crown. The pinnacle. Divine Will.. Chochmah is Wisdom - the Brain - and Binah Understanding - the Heart." Those three circles form the 'top' of the tree with Keter above and center, Chochmah and Binah even, left to right. "Chesed, below Chochmah: Abundance, Grace, Love - the Right hand. Gevurah, below Binah: Contraction, Awe - the Left hand. Just below and center - Tiferet: Harmony, Mercy and Truth: the Torso." Then three more circles another level below the first two and she explains Right to Left, then Centre. "Below Chesed, Netzach: Victory - the right leg. Below Gevurah, Hod: Glory - the left leg. Below and centre: Yesod, Connection, Transmission - the sex organs. Until, at last, a the last layer and centre as well: Malchut: Sovereignty, Deed - Speech."
Sitting back she flexes the hand that was drawing, "The Sefirot is, for me, a tool. A foci. It centres my mind; it reminds me from what source comes this power I wield. It means -- well, a wealth and plethora of things which I won't bombard you with," her lips quirk, a little sheepish but not abashed or embarrassed at all. "Forgive me, I know you didn't ask to participate in a lesson in Jewish Spiritualism. Suffice to say this is a tool I use for working Weavings of Prime because it illustrates how God reaches out to us, to life, to all. It shows our struggle to ascend to closer to understanding the Divine. And - for me - it highlights the Correspondence of all things; the interaction; the connections and Oneness." Setting aside the shale she reaches for the leather case and unzips it to reveal six stone vials, each neatly stoppered, each no larger than a regular bic lighter and thinner to boot: Emily has seen the like before. She's opened them and drunk of the honey that Healed. "It also corresponds neatly to the body, to Life, which suits this particular enchantment. Will you help me lay them out? The three Sefirah on the outer Right: Chochmah, Chesed, Netzach - correspond to the Masculine. The three on the outer Left: Binah, Gevurah and Hod - correspond to the Feminine. We'll lay a vial in each, six for six Sefirah, uniting both concepts. Again, it's symbolism only: Oneness. Questions?"
She welcomes them and if Emily had any questions at any point as she initially explained the Sefirot, the Disciple would have happily stopped to answer, explain or the like.
[Emily Littleton] [Enigmas + Int (Analytical): A diagram is like a blueprint, is like a puzzle, is like a map; it leads the way somewhere; it leads the way home.]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] Forgive me, Israel says. I know you didn't ask to participate in a lesson in Jewish Spiritualism.
"No, please," Emily says, and her voice is thoughtful. It is lower and more resonant than usual. It carries the weight of her thoughts, and they are busy things, quick and clear and agile. "I don't mind, at all."
And she doesn't, mind that is. Emily is studying the diagram, committing the names and associations to memory as Israel draws them. Studying the lines that interlace between the Sefirot. She is quiet for an extended time, and it's possible that Israel thinks the girl lost under the onslaught of mystical terms and symbolism.
She can hear Emily breathing, and it is measured and calm. She can hear when the girl rises to collect the vials, and place them where she's been told to. She names the Sefirot as she places the vials, her voices shapes them with Israel's intonation. She borrows on that speech, that surety, and folds it into her own. This is the first time that Israel has heard Emily do this, this mirroring back, this absorption of identity. It is not mockery, or flattery. It is the simplest way she knows to absorb, to learn, to grow: this is a truism of how her soul functions, this is the result of all she has learned, relearned, become.
Chochmah -- Wisdom.
Chesed -- Abundance (Grace [Love]).
Netzach -- Victory.
Binah -- Understanding.
Gevurah -- Awe.
Hod -- Glory.
She can liken these things to symbols and strictures in her own Faith; she can take them exactly as they are. She has not been taught Ritual, not yet, but there's the innate Grace in Emily that supports it. The solemnity and the surety; the brilliance and the reverence.
"You use this as a tool to guide your magic," Emily says, so that Israel knows she has listened, and that she has understood. "It would seem a ready guide for prayer, as well. Or a place to find direction, if ever you feel lost. Is that also its function? This Life Tree? Or is it only for ritual?"
[Israel Cohen] She can hear the touch, the slightest clink [for no doubt Emily handles the vials with care] of stone on stone. There is contentment traced along the pleased sussuration of her voice [solemn; but joy for it; for the gift]. "The Sefirot is those things and much, much more. It is a corner stone of Kabbalistic practice, ideology and belief. I use it for Ritual because it is ingrained in me; it is a foundation from which I strive to build myself daily. See how the Tree flows? There are many paths, many directions." Using a fingertip and honed skills of memory [and notice how she looks for the distinctive chips and dips and grates in the stone floor as markers, as guides to remember the proportions and placement of the diagram] she draws invisible lines between the circles; the spheres; the emanations. "Primary paths and connections and secondary as well. From Keter flows that which is Hashem - a Hebrew word for God that means 'The Name' because we try to guard ourselves rigorously from taking the Lords name in vain. Hashem reaches out to us, always, constantly creating, constantly present; all. Oneness. Right down to the last of the Sefirah which is the most firmly bound in the world in which we live in our bodies, which are ultimately but shells for our souls. Or temples, because we believe that our bodies must be treated with respect and lovingkindness as much as we strive to treat others the same. After all: To house our Souls, our spark of Divinity, then our bodies are special and precious indeed, yes?" Another smile, a shared understanding -- Israel has actually only recently come to understand the wonders of the sphere of Life and it has given her a renewed appreciation - love - for physical things she had suppressed and ignored for a long time. Oh, she was always meticulous and well-kept in her grooming; she had no serious vices that caused physical harm. But she's come now to recognize the Joy of the physical form, her own and others, far more than before. In many, many ways. Emily, with her appreciation and understanding of the Sphere, is someone with whom she can share the feeling. "But the Sefirot can also flow in reverse as I said and is a guide for we who strive to understand that which cannot be understood - the Divine. It's a paradox of Kabbalistic thought: To devote so much time and effort to an understanding what we believe to be truly beyond our grasp -- beware the person who says they understand the true nature and intentions of God, Emily," something firmer there, shadowed, steely in that warning.. then lighter again. "And yet in truth we believe just the act of earnestly, honestly, lovingly and humbly striving to understand and rise up raises our consciousness to newer and refined levels."
She lets that settle and her open expression welcome any further questions -- with an added, "How do you focus on wielding Prime and Life?" Because working in concert is, obviously, not a one-way affair.
[Emily Littleton] Israel asks Emily a question, and the girl is quiet for a while before answering. She uses the time to collect and compose her thoughts, then there is a quiet exhalation (a sigh [a shift]) and the rustle of clothing in Israel's perpetual darkness. Emily takes up the stone beads with their eight-pointed cross, and she brings them to the Disciple.
With one hand, Emily gently reaches out to touch the back of one of Israel's hands. To guide it, so it rests palm upward, so that she can settle the beads into the woman's hands. They are heavy and cool. Each bead is worn and smoothed with time and use.
They are consecrated (Holy) and have a heartbeat all their own. It speaks of surety, of quiet places, of Steadfastness and Faith. It is not Emily's resonance that threads through this tool, but it compliments hers. It enfolds hers. It explains, without saying much of anything at all, precisely why she Sings.
"These were my godfather's, who was a Singer before me. Had my life gone differently, had I Awakened while he was still with us, I would have been his Catchumen." Her voice is quiet, but clear. It is laced with sorrow, but not with an acute ache. This loss is not recent; this loss has not healed.
"When I was young, and when I was home, he would take me to visit holy places. Churches. Cathedrals. Abbeys. Temples. Dolmen and stone henges. He was a Monist, and taught me to listen for the Truth hidden in the hearts of all men, and to find tolerance for those who had chosen different paths back to God. I learned these things not by lectures, or catechism, or sermons, but through the quiet grace with which he lived his life, and the service he showed to the people who comprised it."
She has not said so many words about Cedric since he passed. She did not attend his funeral; she's stood before his headstone only once. Carrying these beads in her hands. Letting the rain fall down around her.
"I was young, ten years old, when I first heard the Song. We were at Holyrood Abbey in Edinburgh. Midwinter. My life was still steeped in Wonder, then. In the unbroken Faith that only children can hold so tightly."
She smiles, but it translates only as a pause. A quiet.
"For me, Prime is not just that thing which tethers us to God. It is not merely the heartsblood of creation, the pattern and divinity that ties us all together. It's more than just the starstuff of which we are all made. It is all this; it is also the thread that holds us to our own pasts, guides us to our own futures. I can hold his rosary, hear his voice, and finally see with my own eyes the Grace he raised me to."
These are the things she ought share with her Mentor. These are the sureties that keep Emily moving forward. It's what drives her, defines her, uplifts her.
"Beyond his work with the Chorus, possibly intertwined in it -- I don't rightfully know -- Cedric was a Knight of the Venerable Order of St. John of Jerusalem. His life's work, purpose, drive was to serve humanity and his Faith. It is a mantle his son, my godbrother has taken up." It is one she is obviously considering.
"When I work with Life, I focus on the vibrancy of the patterns around me. I focus on my own heartbeat, the rhythm of my own body, it's strengths, its secrets, its weaknesses. I let that understanding extend to whatever is around me. I focus on what it means to be immanent, alive. I learned from someone who was, at that time, very close to me. It is an intimate sphere, to me, and often reveals things we keep carefully hidden. I've learned not to use it lightly, and that there are ethics to consider when reading into the patterns, or stories of another's bones and sinew."
And now, at last, the Apprentice falls quiet again. She folds her hands together, and feels her cheeks pink slightly under the weight of so very many words.
[Israel Cohen] She listens with the same attentiveness -- when Emily reaches out and touches the back of her hand, she stiffens just a trace [it means no slander or ill against Emily: There is perhaps one person in the world with whom she is so closely connected [consecrated] that she doesn't feel that initial startle-surge when touched out of darkness, no matter how keen her other senses] but recovers with ease, taking the rosary in her palm and feeling it gently; handling it with the care due the emotional, personal, powerful ties it represents to the younger woman. Fingertips as sensitive as whiskers feel the smoothness, the worn quality, the whisper of consecration of uniqueness. Sorrow echoes Emily's own - from personal experiences, from that which drives her - but it is muted and subtle; sympathetic, kindly but not overwhelming.
Soaking in the information: About her godfather, his works, his calls; her godbrother; her history; her view of Prime and of Life. In the end she breathes in the same space of air with the Chorister-to-be and lets the words settle; lets them becomes a part of both of them. Until she holds out the rosary back to Emily - when the other woman takes it she turns her hand slowly and squeezes the back of the Apprentices [more] hand. "Thank you for sharing the Blessing with me." Hushed. Earnest without having to work to stress it in overt displays.
Another moment, letting silence reign -- she is not rushed -- feeling the subtle shifts as the cave-space breathes; the barest sound of water dripping somewhere to the back right of the Well [perhaps Catherine's interest is stirred]. Then, at last, "I think we can begin. I've the Quintessence needed already so I won't have to draw from the Well; we can work together. I'll be speaking Blessings over the charms while we Enchant them -- you may feel free to focus with silent prayer, meditation, song, whatever it is that moves you, that centers you, alright?"
She awaits a word of agreement... and then begins, words slipping from her tongue. Usually she'd use Hebrew but for Emily's benefit - and because it is ultimately just as fitting [what is language, after all, but different sounds for the same richness of concept?].
"Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. Blessed be the Name of His glorious kingdom for ever and ever. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might..." The Shema prayer lilts and slides over her tongue, more chant and breathy song than simple words until it merges into: "Heal us, O Lord, and we will be healed; save us and we will be saved, for you are our praise. O grant a perfect healing to all our ailments, for you, almighty King, are a faithful and merciful healer. Blessed are you, O Lord, the healer of the sick of his people Israel." And, at the last, the words from Numbers, of the patriarch Moses to Aaron and his sons,
"The Lord bless you, and keep you:
The Lord make His face to shine upon you; and be gracious unto you:
The Lord lift up His countenance upon you; and grant you peace."
[Israel Cohen] [[since Israel would Warn Emily:]]
Before enacting the Working, Israel does add, "The creation of charms does incur Paradox, so brace yourself," a touch of apology - it is in her nature not to wish harm to others - but it is subdued: She is certain Emily won't back down. "Now, if you're ready...."
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1st Turn: Enchant Healing Charms. [[Prime 3, Life 2. Base Diff: 7 [vulgar w/o witnesses]. -1 Foci, -2 Near Node. Charm Point: 1 [Highest Sphere [Life 2] in half [rounded up] plus any additional spheres for the charm effect [none]] Suxx needed, Charm rating x 2: 2 Suxx to pull it off. Adding 2 suxx for additional healing. Spending 7 Quint. [4 for the suxx needed +3 to imbue 3 of the charms with 1 quint so they don't require outside Quint if healing Agg.]]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 6, 9 (Success x 3 at target 4)
[Emily Littleton] [Prime 1 / Life 1, to assist: Vulgar (base dif 5) -1 Unique focus, -1 near node; dif 3]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 8, 8 (Success x 2 at target 3)
[Israel Cohen] [[1 hour later: 6 1pt Healing Charms. [3 imbued with their own Quint for agg healing]. Each heals 6 health levels.
Rolling Israel Backlash: ]]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Israel Cohen] [[Soaking:]]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] [Backlash]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[Emily Littleton] Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.
We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty maker of heaven and earth...
Blessed be the Name of His glorious kingdom for ever and ever.
Through Him all things were made...
And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might...
Through Him, all things are possible.
Israel lifts her voice, and Emily bows her head. They are of singular purpose, steeped in their separate traditions -- Traditions not of Magi, but of men; of religions and cultures and peoples. They are the Faithful, the Chosen, the Holy, and yet they raise Him up in separate ways.
This is the beauty of Babel, Emily. That though we are a fractured people, and though we know divisiveness and confusion, Man has found so many ways back to God. He has taken in the tone of the languages he speaks, the weave of the cloth he wears, the study of the people he knows. He elevates the Lord, in hundreds of voices. Not all of them are just, and not all of them are righteous, but the tapestry of humanity would not be so rich, so varied and so beautiful had we not known strife and separation.
Seek him in the quiet places, but also in the faces of the people who surround you.
She worries the points of the cross with her thumb. She thinks on the cardinal directions they represent. Time passes, but it is subjective. So great and so focused are their Wills that the rite they are working consumed Time itself, bends it back on itself, makes it irrelevent. When that focus falls away, and there is only the thrum of their paired resonances staining the well room, Emily will be surprised to find an hour has passed. She will remark, inwardly, at the quiet strain of her muscles, held so still and at such attention for this long.
It is with a quiet Grace that she helps the Disciple clear up their working, that she tidies the Node room in whatever small ways she can. When it is time for them to part, Emily's greeting is warm, it is resonant and uplifted. (Rekindled. [Reverence]) She says they will meet again soon, and she means it. She wishes Israel a good night.
She carries a piece (peace) of that working with her out into the night, wound around her own resonance, threaded through with the borrowed tones she wears (Steadfast [Belonging]). As she leaves the House, Emily is more than what she was when she entered. Tonight, she does not leave diminished, or harried, or anxious. Tonight, there is joy. There is hope.
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