Library:Rezese Mythopoeia - Livi Savine and the Patricide
Livi Savine sat at the edge of a glade in the Ucayare, upon a wooden stool her attendant had brought and insisted she use for fear of jungle insects and vermin which might harm his master. From across the open space stood a lone philosopher, a lowly but respected monk.
She bade him approach and he did so slowly as was tradition. One did not quickly march upon the closest of blood to the ijmburuv.
“Dara lafiye,” she welcomed him as he stopped twenty paces away; good health. He responded in kind.
“You bring us to a sacred place in secret; I can only assume for treason,” she said in the Latin language, which was unknown to her attendant.
He nodded and also speaking in Latin said, “The highest of treasons, but the most necessary. And you as a devout woman will be of two minds.”
That was enough. “We will return here one month hence. You will offer me your truth or your head.”
And so they returned the next month on the appointed day, at the appointed hour.
“Dara lafiye. This is our second meeting, Friar, and I have not come for your head this day.”
The philosopher bowed and handed her a scroll of parchment. “I offer you the truth of God’s will.
“Return one month hence, and you may offer me another truth, or your head.”
They joined together three more times to discuss the truth of God’s will, each time parting and promising to return. After the fourth meeting, Livi understood the truth of God’s will; but it did not sway her.
“Dara lafiye. This is our fifth meeting, Priest, and I have not come for your head this day.”
The philosopher bowed and handed her a scroll of parchment. “I offer you the truth of good faith in our Church.”
“Return one month hence, and you may offer me another truth, or your head.”
They joined together four more times to discuss the truth of good faith in their Church, each time parting and promising to return. After their ninth meeting, Livi understood the truth of God’s will and of good faith in their Church; but they did not sway her.
“Dara lafiye. This is our tenth meeting, Prior, and I have not come for your head this day.”
The philosopher bowed and handed her a scroll of parchment. “I offer you the truth of your father’s atrocities and of those who had preceded him.”
“Return one month hence, and you may offer me another truth, or your head.”
They joined together nine more times to discuss the truth of Livi’s father’s atrocities and of those who had preceded him. After their nineteenth meeting, Livi understood the truth of God’s will, of good faith in their Church, and of her father’s atrocities and of those who had preceded him; but they did not sway her.
“Dara lafiye. This is our twentieth meeting, Abbot, and I have not come for your head this day.”
The philosopher bowed and handed her a scroll of parchment. “I offer you the truth of trade and of your father’s wastefulness.”
“Return one month hence, and you may offer me another truth, or your head.”
They joined together twenty-nine more times to discuss the truth of trade and of Livi’s father’s wastefulness, each time parting and promising to return. After their forty-ninth meeting, Livi understood the truth of God’s will, of good faith in their Church, of her father’s atrocities and of those who had preceded him, and of trade and of her father’s wastefulness; but they did not sway her.
“Dara lafiye. This is our fiftieth meeting, Bishop, and I have not come for your head this day.”
The philosopher bowed and handed her a scroll of parchment. “I offer you the truth of family and of progeny and of all your descendents to come.”
“Return one month hence, and you may offer me another truth, or your head.”
They joined together forty-nine more times to discuss the truth of family and of progeny and of all Livi’s descendents to come, each time parting and promising to return. After their ninety-ninth meeting, Livi understood the truth of God’s will, of good faith in their Church, of her father’s atrocities and of those who had preceded him, of trade and of her father’s wastefulness, and of family and of progeny and of all her descendents to come; and finally she was swayed.
They met once more.
“Dara lafiye,” she said.
“This is our hundredth meeting,” he completed for her, the words hanging thick in the air between them. “And you will not come for my head on this or any other day.”
“This is the meeting of meetings,” she responded in the Latin language, which remained unknown to her attendant. “And I have not come for your head this day.”
“What more would you ask of me?” He too spoke in Latin.
Livi considered the question. She knew what she had to do but there were some small troubling doubts, and her destiny did not allow for any at all, no matter the size.
“Tell me once more, Archbishop. How can I know this will be forgiven?”
“You will be forgiven by God because it is God’s will it be so. Because the Church will defend you to the end of the world. Because nations have been ground to bloody dust beneath the heels of your father and of those who preceded him. Because the people now cry out to be saved from wretched misery and from having to witness the lavish waste of our sovereign while they suffer. And because your house will flourish under your leadership for decades to come and for centuries of centuries after you and need never fall to the final fate of all empires.”
Livi nodded. She would do what had to be done.
“Dara lafiye,” the Archbishop said in farewell.
Livi turned and left without response.