Мерседес Лэки - Passages

“I’d’ve thrashed you for that, Hadrick,” Lidreth said, with a scowl. “I might anyway, just because you tried.”

Hadrick sagged. “Agreed,” he replied, head hanging. “Guess I’m getting off easy. Anything else?”

“Aye,” she said. “Don’t touch my horse.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she sensed Need sighing with resignation, and smirked.

The Tayledras know for a fact that some of them will become spirit-beings in the service of the Star-Eyed after their death. History has shown that such a transformation is most likely if they have been a strong, stable mix of heroic, loving, resourceful, and wise in their life. They also know that these transformations occur in a timeframe they have no control over; a spirit-being could manifest the moment after someone’s death, or a generation hence, but the most important takeaway is this: A Hawkbrother who is driven to be effective in improving the world while alive wants to keep doing so after their mortal death.

It is also understood by every worshiper that a prayer to the Star-Eyed is not actually meant to go directly to the Star-Eyed but rather to those who act in Her interest. This is encouraging to those who wish to be in Her service after death—just because you’re dead, that doesn’t mean the action stops. There have also been instances of servants of entirely different deities responding to a plea, a number that has sharply increased in recent years, concurrent with the first stirrings of the Mage Storms.

Along with this is the simple acceptance that once someone is gone from the material world, who and what they become will be altered in ways beyond a native Velgarthian’s capacity to fully understand, akin to a small cup being expected to hold a lake. So the Hawkbrothers embrace what they know of a person in the material world and make the most of that.

Hawkbrothers understand that matter, and life itself, exists at many sizes relative to themselves. They understand germ theory in a particular way. Life forms can be found living on or in other life forms, from such examples as primary predators consuming their prey, to parasites that thrive on the skin and in bowels. Feather mites are the tiniest things visible to the naked eye, but they certainly have recognizable effects. The concept that life forms exist that are far smaller and far larger than the senses can detect is only logical. Being in the Pelagirs, they also know that such life can manifest in unpredictable ways due to chaotic magic mutations, so the Tayledras have a policy of cremation over burial. Consigned to heat intense enough to vaporize a body, there is no risk of a Pelagirs-altered life form creating havoc from a buried body.

Additionally, the Hawkbrothers’ spiritual connection to the air is incorporated into this. Hawkbrothers know that the wind carries particles, so by cremating a body, a person’s physical substance is released to the wind, and it will surely be breathed in someday by those who remember them. Indeed, all the Tayledras ancestors are thought to be breathed in as motes in the air, carried aloft on breezes forever until they find a home as part of another Hawkbrother’s breath. This contributes to their society’s long-term cohesion—everyone’s ancestors become a part of everyone.

Death is still greeted with shock, regret, sadness, and mourning. Every species in the society feels it differently, according to their biochemical and emotional makeup, but the need for comfort is universal. It is not unusual to see occurrences such as a dyheli embraced by a human scout while their Bondbird preens sympathetically at their hair, or a few hertasi appearing long enough to leave blankets and refreshments, squeeze the scout’s hand, and then vanish again.

Beneath the ground level of a Vale, where the Heartstone, gardens, and workspaces are, the immense complexity of the Vale’s support systems and hertasi civilization is centered around the colossal heat-sink structure in which the Heartstone’s flares are grounded. Each shell around it serves multiple purposes, from glassmaking furnaces and baking ovens to forges, hot water sources, and thermal-based ventilation blowers. Under a Vale, the passages and rooms are large enough for even a gryphon or Companion to walk, and every Vale has at least one beautifully ornate, brightly lit funereal chamber.

Funeral proceedings occur every three days. When recovering a physical body is possible, it is considered respectful to do so, unless it would result in great harm to attempt it. All bodies, from beloved animals to friends, from dyheli , tervardi , kyree , gryphon species and more, are prepared in adjacent rooms. Hertasi and, occasionally, human ascetics engage in thorough and respectful removal of all artifacts and any body parts that are desired by others, such as a gryphon wanting their fallen friend’s crestfeathers or, more practically, primary feathers being harvested for reuse to replace others’ broken ones. The bodies are wrapped in rough blankets made by students. This practice not only gives students practice in weaving but also helps them feel connected to the cycle of life and death and the continuum of their craft, knowing that their own bodies will be wrapped by blankets made by future students. Perfumed, wide leaves are then tied with twine atop these shrouds in a decorative pattern.

A funereal chamber can hold many people, but it is not considered rude if a person is unable to attend in person. The tasks of a Hawkbrother are many, and death seldom occurs at a convenient time, so this is reconciled. Beaded ropes representing those who could not be present are hung on stands bearing long wind chimes.

The shrouded bodies are arranged on simple wooden rafts, which are hoisted by staged counterweights onto large carts. All of the machinery of the funeral chamber is beautifully ornate, silent-smooth, and perfectly maintained. Hertasi clad in the layered garb of priests operate the devices in a dance of graceful progression, not a crude throwing of levers. The carts, bearing their burdens, are drawn slowly to the multiple doors of the ovens.

The hertasi engage in a final test of the doors that lead into the ultimate cremation oven, the heat chamber below the Heartstone itself. An unmistakable deep vibration, akin to a huge drum being struck, is the indication that the last door has tested as operational. This is the cue for these traditional words to be spoken by all the attendees on either side of the bodies’ path to the first door. It is begun by a hertasi priest on the eastern side and spoken in a call/reply between both sides, to form the complete chant.

When the last word is spoken, hertasi arranged around the chamber pause for three heartbeats, then pull gently on the beaded ropes to set the wind chimes in motion. The chimes alone play while the rafts are sent through, door by door, until finally, the encompassing sound of the final door is heard again.