Breaking the Silence

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Jonathan
Gnawing Cannibal
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Breaking the Silence

Post by Jonathan »

It was only three weeks before Jonathan’s leaving Athlon that something extraordinary happened. While he hadn’t really paid much attention to the date of his departure, he did have a sense that he would not stay very long at Saint Joelle’s Monastery. Still, he followed the rules and the routines gravely, not once breaking them.

Abbot Vom did, however. And this is what surprised Jonathan so much. Abbot Vom was the monk running the monastery. It was under his guidance all the religious studies were conducted, and it was from him the other monks, experienced and novices alike, sought advice. Everyone respected him, and not once did Vom even give the appearance of breaking the rules, especially the one of silence.

During this particular day’s second session of meditation, the time was about a quarter to nine in the evening, and the whole monastery had been silent since around half past three (when the monks, all men, getting ever fitter, tried some new physical exercises in order to reach divination), a sudden thunder appeared outside the winder. This was not the usual season for thunder in Athlon so two of the monks, both novices like Jonathan, jumped and gasped from the surprise, triggering smiles from the other monks, all having been distracted from the meditation. Still, all remained silent as by the rules of the order.

A short while later, perhaps only a few minutes, maybe five, Abbot Vom rose up from his chair (they were all sitting on chairs and the chairs were arranged in a circle). His face shone, he seemed enthusiastic and overly happy. He jumped twice in the air, which was quite the accomplishment for a man his age and fragility, and clapped his hands.

“Nathaniel’s coming back!” he declared.

The monks looked at each other and then looked at Jonathan. Jonathan was confused, he had been deep in meditation when Abbot Vom’s outburst came.

“For crying out loud, you may all speak! Away with the rules for today! We must prepare for his arrival.”

“My lord,” began Jonathan. Since all looks were on him, he felt the need to represent his brothers in the events of this evening. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly that, child! Emperor Nathaniel, who ascended into Dairyland by the will of the Buttery Spirit, will descend upon us poor fools, and we, the followers of Bous, must prepare for Nathaniel’s return. No sleep tonight, preparations begin now!”

Had the abbot lost his sanity? The monks murmured among each other, while Vom had taken Jonathan by the hand and led him to the chapel. By now Vom had calmed down and was able to explain things more clearly. Finally, Jonathan understood. Vom had received a revelation from the divine detailing the when and the how of Nathaniel’s return, but, to Jonathan’s dismay, not the why.

“The ways of the Buttery Quadrant are mysterious,” was the only comfort Jonathan received from his abbot. Vom understood Jonathan. He understood that Jonathan had been, and indeed remained, utterly confused over the circumstances of Jonathan’s revelation and decision to adopt two sons -- one that he ended up loving but who was taken from him when the poor child died -- and one man, who was older than Jonathan himself but a worshipper of the evil Sisera. This man, this “son”, stole, or so Jonathan felt, his princedom in Kujirashi. The whole ordeal had made things very difficult for Jonathan. He had had two sons, one that he loved with all his spirit and one that he despised with all his might, but only one son remained alive, the one Jonathan hated. The ways of the Buttery Quadrant were mysterious... And sometimes, Jonathan mused, absolutely horrendous.

Now, Vom knew the doubts in Jonathan’s heart. Despite Jonathan’s exemplary education and taking on the roles in the monastery, his following the rules as an insict, and how Jonathan had grown so much stronger, both in mind and in body, Jonathan still felt angry with the Gods for what had happened to him. It was unfair. With Nathaniel’s impeding return -- a cousin he had cherished and then mourned and gotten over -- all the feelings would just come back.

Vom invited Jonathan to pray, and they prayed for an hour in the evening there at the chapel. Things felt better in Jonathan’s heart, and Vom seemed more like himself again.

Then the pair was off, gathering the other monks, and left the monastery around midnight with rucksacks on their backs.
Prince Jonathan
MIRZA JONATHAN MERLINGSSON AYREON-KALIRION

[spoiler]Emir of Sathrati
Prince of Natopia
Prince among the Lakes
Duke of New Aquitane
Duke of Haven
Count Shishin
Count of Northshire
Count of Arietta
Count of Cape Farewell
Count of Ransenar
Lord of Andelarion
Jarl of Frostarike
Baig of Upasāgara
Scion of the King of Kings[/spoiler]

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Jonathan
Gnawing Cannibal
Posts: 752
Joined: Sat Nov 15, 2014 6:56 pm

Re: Breaking the Silence

Post by Jonathan »

A few hours after midnight, Demeter Agiunemys woke up as usual. As one of the few farmers in Athlon, he cherished his herd of cows and tried to make things the best for them. He had long had a dairy business on the island but was met with increasing competition from modern and commercialized dairy conglomerates from Tapfer. He still had a good few customers, but the news yesterday that the near-by village of Petropolis would see its first Tapfer-style milk bar deeply troubled him. How could ever compete with Tapferite milk products? There was no future in producing milk in this holy land.

Still, he woke up ungodly early every morning to make sure the cows were milked. He loved them, each one of them. Whenever one of them was sick or injured, he cared for them. Sometimes he cared more for them than his own children, or so his wife, Marina, often thought. Marina had left the farm two years ago to work in the school in Petropolis. She wanted to meet people. Their children had long ago gone to university in Tapfer. Without them it had been empty for Mr and Mrs Agiunemys. Though Demeter found solace in his cows, Marina did not. She was jealous of them. In an angry drunken fight with her husband, she had shouted at him that she sometimes wished she was a cow in order to just receive any kind of affection. The man had replied “I wish you were one!” and a week later Marina was in Petropolis.

This night, however, Marina lay in the bed next to Demeter. Deep down, she still loved the man. He was an honest man, and she knew that the business was going badly and that it stressed both of them. Besides, tomorrow they would receive their children, the first (and probably only) time this year. As Demeter rose from bed, Marina was happily sleeping.

Once Demeter had left the farmhouse and he was just about to enter the barn, he saw a group of trekkers gathered outside the fences. . As it was spring this time of the year, the sun was rising very early so it was broad day-light despite being only four in the morning.

“Bloody tourists,” he sighed to himself, “they always get lost. They trust their satnav watches... And still they get lost. I’ve no time for them. The cows need milking”

He cursed a little more and went to the barn door. While he was opening it -- it was unbearably slow -- he did his best to ignore the trekkers. It usually did the trick, ignoring them. They would go bother someone else instead.

But once the door was open, one of the trekkers climbed through the gates and approached Demeter. In Athlonian, the trekker introduced himself as Brother Jonathan of Saint Joelle’s Monastery. Apparently the trekkers were no trekkers. They were monks.

“The abbot would like to see you. It’s really important,” said Jonathan.

“Now? But the monastery’s so far away and I’ve got cows needing to be milked now. I will try go see him in the afternoon, but my children are coming... What is the matter? Does he really need me, a poor farmer, to help him?”

Demeter may have been a grumpy man, but he was deeply religious and always paid his respects to the monastery. Aside from his normal tithings to the church, he was always sure to donate as much as he could to the monastery in terms of food and supplies. Tending for cows was a bit like tending for God’s people. Cows are after all rather holy animals in the religion.

“Sir,” said Jonathan, “the Abbot is just by the fence. He’s just too old to actually climb it like I did. Please see him now, it will only take a minute or two.”

So the abbot had sent a young man to climb the fence and invade Demeter’s private land, then surely it must be important, Demeter thought. He quickly left for the fence where Abbot Vom was standing.

A few pleasantries later, Demeter and Vom began speaking of the topic at hand. Demeter was shocked to learn the plan, but agreed to it without any hesitation. He was a man of god and would always do god’s work.


It was a strange sight, Jonathan thought and smiled. Cows were being milked by hand out in the open. The milk formed one big pool in the middle of the field. Even though more milk was being added to the pool, the monks, including Jonathan, began churning and churning, separating watery milk from butter milk. With giant mirrors (from where the hell did the mirrors come from?) they focused the sunlight as it grew in the early morning so that the milk would be heated a bit. Making butter is easier when the milk’s a little warmer, and butter was what they intended to make, here on the open grass field.

As by divine intervention, no dirt or grass seemed to ever get into the milky pools, whether the watery milk one or the butter milk one. It was completely pure, possessing a godly colour.

Now all the monks focused their energy on the buttermilk pool. Five held up the mirrors, reflecting the sun on the pool. Jonathan, as one of the stronger monks, helped out churning the ever-thickening buttermilk. Demeter and Vom were drinking some coffee. They had just let out all the cows to one of the ajoining fields, though not the one where the milk pools were.

Around ten in the morning, Marina was up. She had gone out of the house. While standing on the varandah, she looked at the whole ordeal before her: monks churning butter on the grassfield. Without asking a single question, she knew exactly what was going on. She was a pious woman, and she smiled. Quickly she went back in to the kitchen and prepared a big breakfast for all the monks (and the husband). She had alreadly stocked up her kitchen with goodies for the arrival of her sons, but a breakfast for all the monks was more important now. She could always go to Petropolis and get more supplies later.

The monks took turns eating. Churning the pool took quite the while, but no one wanted it to stop. Jonathan decided he wouldn’t eat at all. He wanted this to go as quickly as possible, and he knew that he was the fastest churner of them all. Nathaniel had to come back, but he was unsure how churning butter would help. Perhaps they would use the butter for a sacrifice or something... but before he had the chance to finish that thought, something was clogging up his fine churning. Then, from the pool, he heard the sound of someone getting fluid down his throat. Had some monk fallen in? As he looked down on the pool, in which he stood in his shorts, he saw a hand. A hand! Jonathan reached for the hand and pulled it with all his might. A human now stood in front of him, a man, despite being covered in butter and milk, looked reasonably clean and fresh.

“Are you all right, brother?” Jonathan asked. But the man did not reply. He simply looked around confused. He was naked, and now Jonathan saw that he was Nathaniel.

As it had happened, Nathaniel had been brought back to the mortal world through butter. This had been the will of the Buttery Quadrant. All Jonathan’s previous griefs about this were lost. He embraced his cousin (whom he hadn’t seen for several years) and brought him into the house, where Demeter clothed him and Marina fed him the leftovers from the breakfast.

“But I was gone...” was the first thing Nathaniel said. He had been quiet all this time, trying to get his bearings, but he simply couldn’t. He was too confused. “I was gone... And now I am here...”

“You mean there’s no Dairyland?” asked Abbot Vom concerned.

“I don’t know... I was in Elijah’s Rest, and now I am here... And several years have passed. I don’t remember anything.”

“Maybe that is the will of Bous...” said Vom resolutely. “There’s a reason for everything. Don’t worry, Nathaniel.”

“There wasn’t anything...” Nathaniel’s face was all pale and sad.

“Shhh... Nathaniel. You need to rest”
Prince Jonathan
MIRZA JONATHAN MERLINGSSON AYREON-KALIRION

[spoiler]Emir of Sathrati
Prince of Natopia
Prince among the Lakes
Duke of New Aquitane
Duke of Haven
Count Shishin
Count of Northshire
Count of Arietta
Count of Cape Farewell
Count of Ransenar
Lord of Andelarion
Jarl of Frostarike
Baig of Upasāgara
Scion of the King of Kings[/spoiler]

Ludwig von Walstadt

Re: Breaking the Silence

Post by Ludwig von Walstadt »

On the hills overlooking the farm, two whalers where watching the monks. One of them had binoculars and the other one had a notepad.

"So you want me to write down that they covered this man in butter and buttermilk? This Nathaniel bloke who has been missing for a while you say?"

"I don't know... it could be soft cheese as well. Or whale blubber. By Cato, I would murder for a piece of whale blubber."

"Bitte."

"Danke."

"Does this all have any relation to our mission? Like... I have no clue if this weird fetish they have is dangerous to Walstadt..."

"It would be dangerous if it was done in public, I mean, this looks pretty nasty."

"I think they call it kinky in Natopia and is thought to be a good thing. To me, it is just one of the things that makes me feel not quite at home in the other demesnes."

"Meine Rede!"

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Neoptolemus
Posts: 241
Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2012 10:54 pm

Re: Breaking the Silence

Post by Neoptolemus »

Praise Bous and the Blessed Nathaniel for returning to us!
His Holiness, Neoptolemus
Pentheros of the Dozan Bovic Church

Played by Nathan

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Lord Erion
Posts: 3797
Joined: Wed Dec 08, 2010 9:12 pm

Re: Breaking the Silence

Post by Lord Erion »

Acow!
His Imperial Highness Erion of Waffel-Paine,
Prince of Natopia, Prince of Arboria, Duke of New Aquitane, and of the Punkrock Isles, Count of Nerklaa, Count of Augustus, Lord am Baat, Baron Mirkdale, Representative in Frenzy for Arboria, Knight of the Order of the Black Hole, Awardee of the Regent's Medal, MNN.

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