copper, or something more. Making slight touches, he passed through the market from one edge to the other, a grand pool of fish eating one another and itself in order to keep swimming, keep floating.
Through the maze of stalls and transient alleys, the stench of the Anthill packed into him and he coughed away the pollutant, the reek of a living in a latrine.
The twenty-one apprentices distributed milk to the children from large jugs while four Arcanes handed out pieces of bread. Raol hopped and climbed up the crude path beaten and broken into the steps, climbing over the many cells, past hissing and hiding cats and rats and pigeons, over and up the walls to the hovel. Yuki smiled at him, Take your sister down to the Masters, aye?
Raol nodded and scooped up Beata, rushing down to thesquare where the Arcanes appeared every Redday to feed the orphans and joined the crowd of tiny mouths and skeletal boys and girls, hundreds of them, some half blind or crippled, all hungry, all stinking of the various secretions and excretions readily available.
The redsun rose and began to fall as the bluesun dawned while they waited. Here you are, child, the short morose Garasun apprentice said filling a ladle with milk while the Drache one handed it to Raol. Beata drank it all greedily, and Raol frowned but handed it back. The Drache laughed, There’s enough for you, little one, and poured another ladle full. Raol did not smile but thanked them with a bow and took two handfuls of bread, one for Beata, and sat away from the other orphans.
He watched all the faces, the pokedout eyes, the maimed legs, the missing teeth and tongues, the scarred bodies, the cleaved fingers and ears, the face piercings. Chewing slowly, he watched Beata play with the other little girls, climbing over the apprentices while one of the Arcanes, a frail Vulpen with hollow cheeks and shorn scalp, spoke the words of the Angels to the older children, drawing figures in the ground to teach them to read and recognise symbols. One of the Arcanes played with the children along with the many apprentices. Twilight cast the shadows long in two directions, some of the children drifting to sleep, the Arcanes switching places. Raol listened to them talk amongst themselves.
He’s always with the Angel.
The Vulpen shook his head, He’s selfish. He’s lost in it.
He fell in love.
We’re all in love, but he’s given way to lust and desire.
What’s to be done? Angels do as they please. They give and they take.
But always in proper measure. What is this? This obsession with one another. It’s imbalanced.
Can the Angels even do that?
I don’t know, the Arcane, pale and tall, pulled on his pointed beard, I wouldn’t think so but this doesn’t feel right. I know I’ve long desired to do nothing but be with the Angels, to bask in their Light and shirk my duties. Don’t look at me so, I’m being honest. It’s important to be honest. I may be Arcane, but I’m a man. It is because I’m Arcane that I do not give way to my desires and lust.
I don’t think lust and desire are the same.
True. Lust is selfish.
Isn’t desire?
The Vulpen shook his head, It’s different. Sexual desire’s not about possession, but lust is. To desire isn’t the want to gratify oneself, but to share experience with another. To make both of you closer to perfection.
Exactly.
Well, then what is it with Vreaux?
It’s not for us to say.
He thinks he’s Soarean is the problem, the Drache apprentice spoke, He wants to be a husband to the Angel. I’ve heard the way he talks to the Angel. He wants to leave Luca and go with the Angel.
They grumbled and sighed and the pale one said, It’s absurd to even consider. Even if he wants that, the Angel will not.
They do in Soare.
Do they? What do we even know of Soare? No, the Angels aren’t like us, they don’t desire or long or love. Not in the same way. For them there’s only the Dream. They love us, true, but not the way we love one
Through the maze of stalls and transient alleys, the stench of the Anthill packed into him and he coughed away the pollutant, the reek of a living in a latrine.
The twenty-one apprentices distributed milk to the children from large jugs while four Arcanes handed out pieces of bread. Raol hopped and climbed up the crude path beaten and broken into the steps, climbing over the many cells, past hissing and hiding cats and rats and pigeons, over and up the walls to the hovel. Yuki smiled at him, Take your sister down to the Masters, aye?
Raol nodded and scooped up Beata, rushing down to thesquare where the Arcanes appeared every Redday to feed the orphans and joined the crowd of tiny mouths and skeletal boys and girls, hundreds of them, some half blind or crippled, all hungry, all stinking of the various secretions and excretions readily available.
The redsun rose and began to fall as the bluesun dawned while they waited. Here you are, child, the short morose Garasun apprentice said filling a ladle with milk while the Drache one handed it to Raol. Beata drank it all greedily, and Raol frowned but handed it back. The Drache laughed, There’s enough for you, little one, and poured another ladle full. Raol did not smile but thanked them with a bow and took two handfuls of bread, one for Beata, and sat away from the other orphans.
He watched all the faces, the pokedout eyes, the maimed legs, the missing teeth and tongues, the scarred bodies, the cleaved fingers and ears, the face piercings. Chewing slowly, he watched Beata play with the other little girls, climbing over the apprentices while one of the Arcanes, a frail Vulpen with hollow cheeks and shorn scalp, spoke the words of the Angels to the older children, drawing figures in the ground to teach them to read and recognise symbols. One of the Arcanes played with the children along with the many apprentices. Twilight cast the shadows long in two directions, some of the children drifting to sleep, the Arcanes switching places. Raol listened to them talk amongst themselves.
He’s always with the Angel.
The Vulpen shook his head, He’s selfish. He’s lost in it.
He fell in love.
We’re all in love, but he’s given way to lust and desire.
What’s to be done? Angels do as they please. They give and they take.
But always in proper measure. What is this? This obsession with one another. It’s imbalanced.
Can the Angels even do that?
I don’t know, the Arcane, pale and tall, pulled on his pointed beard, I wouldn’t think so but this doesn’t feel right. I know I’ve long desired to do nothing but be with the Angels, to bask in their Light and shirk my duties. Don’t look at me so, I’m being honest. It’s important to be honest. I may be Arcane, but I’m a man. It is because I’m Arcane that I do not give way to my desires and lust.
I don’t think lust and desire are the same.
True. Lust is selfish.
Isn’t desire?
The Vulpen shook his head, It’s different. Sexual desire’s not about possession, but lust is. To desire isn’t the want to gratify oneself, but to share experience with another. To make both of you closer to perfection.
Exactly.
Well, then what is it with Vreaux?
It’s not for us to say.
He thinks he’s Soarean is the problem, the Drache apprentice spoke, He wants to be a husband to the Angel. I’ve heard the way he talks to the Angel. He wants to leave Luca and go with the Angel.
They grumbled and sighed and the pale one said, It’s absurd to even consider. Even if he wants that, the Angel will not.
They do in Soare.
Do they? What do we even know of Soare? No, the Angels aren’t like us, they don’t desire or long or love. Not in the same way. For them there’s only the Dream. They love us, true, but not the way we love one
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