That Which Has No Beginning Chapter 2
Heresay Has Weight
Elsewhere, in another reach of Hielle, there is much fanfare as hushed anticipation rolls through the salty, seaside air of Ritzfield. A port town bustling with commercial activity, Ritzfield is not only home to many members of the Hielle Council, but it is also in close proximity with the Angle of Incidence, the largest and most important meeting house for the council. The Angle of Incidence is not even an afternoon's travel by foot from Ritzfield's market, and many well maintained, often traveled roads exist between Ritzfield and the Angle of Incidence. There is scarcely ever a calm time and never a sleepy moment in Ritzfield.
Ritzfield is a key location for many reasons; the council's heavy investment of time and resources into it only serves as a further testament to this geographically and politically important location. Ritzfield is situated on the only land-bridge connecting the north and south parts of the Limbiard continent. Met by the calm, amiable waters of both the Lest ocean on its west and the Riest ocean to its east, Ritzfield benefits from the many, naturally occurring geographic features that allow for swift deployment and return of resources. From the north, the gently rolling hills and woods have yielded a boon of natural resources, providing various lumber from forests and ideal environments for agricultural needs. Highways from Ritzfield to the south gregariously lead straight into the mountainous Craiggermen Range, which provides well over half of Hielle's entire ore and mineral needs.
Ritzfield is Hielle's city that never sleeps; the never ending work from the day is carried throughout the night by the glow of phosphors. While you won't find such refined night lights anywhere else in Hielle, there is much added fuel for the planned, extra dazzling display in store for tonight. A Rin, the first Hielle has seen in the past 10 years, has just been officially ordained by the Hielle council yesterday, following an official announcement 6 days prior. Preparations had already been well underway as everyone in Ritzfield still labors tirelessly for the nights celebratory feast and festivities. The always noisy and populated Ritzfield is already well beyond its daily capacity from the continuing influx of any and all who have the benefit of living nearby or affording travel to what may very well be a once in a lifetime opportunity.
While there are no restrictions imposed upon any who wish to come and take part in the public ceremonies, it might as well be a distant fairy tale for the many who are not able to make the journey. Countless, nameless people live in realities that represent a far removed nightmare for the majority present in Ritzfield today. Certainly, the council would have already announced the newest Rin's assignment if they had one of those types in mind. Tonight's ceremony is just as much for the show as it is for the chance to make a great impression and prove ones viability for candidacy; it has been 10 years since the last Rin, and it was well over 30 before that one. Securing instruction of the Rin would guarantee greatness, or at the very least, a prestigious, future spot in the council. Every local council member has had to wade through incessant, flooding showers of gifts, and none have been able to escape growing, grinning throngs of well wishers that have delayed daily business during the weeks preceding the official announcement, 7 days ago from today.
Within the continually congested influx of early afternoon travelers, a young man can hardly be made out if one cared to look anywhere but directly ahead. He has certainly seen two, but perhaps not quite three, decades in his time. While not out of company with the present spectrum ranging from local farming communities to well to do artisans and high society types, he has a curious air about him.
Curious not so obviously by appearance, he's decently dressed and would easily pass for the son of a skilled carpenter. While his hair could stand to have a better grooming, beside him, an elder lady dons a flashy scarf that looks to be screaming in frustration with its inability to contain her long, wily, untamably frizzy hair. The young man is a bit on the pale side, though, not so much that it contrasts, instead of compliments, his very dark brown hair. No, it's not obvious at a first, or even second glance, just what is so curious about this fellow, this one of a kind within the tightly packing sardine can that is today in Ritzfield.
In fact, the only obvious, outward indicator to this young man's interesting demeanor are the two small, yet beaming, facilities recessed into the front of his head. His eyes seem a bit too wise for his age, yet at the same time, his eyes appear to contain a childlike curiosity that he should be too old for. Calmly working his way through the crowds towards the heart of Ritzfield, he seems to be unable to avoid at least briefly turning to look at all the wonders which catch his eyes along the way. Ritzfield must be a different experience for him, but he does well in his ability to not let it show, even without the aid of today's special occasion.
Having finally made his way to a resting spot, this young man takes a back seat amongst the roaring, busy, and cheerful group within the first tavern he could find. The quiet, contemplating look on his face is easily lost amongst the crowd.
Without so much as an advance greeting for warning, a young lady, who is crammed alongside the table he sits, addresses this young man.
"I've only lived in Ritzfield for six years, and I've never seen a crowd like this," the girl started, "I've heard everyone say that the procession for the last Rin 10 years back was nothing compared to this either."
Noting the lack of response or any change in facial expression from the subject she just addressed, the girl waves her hand in front of the young man before continuing.
"You ok there? You look like you left your body here and are having trouble finding it again," she let out a pleasant laugh.
Finally noting that the smiling girl was talking to him, the young man snaps out of his unapparent trance and responds, "Oh I'm fine, sorry, it's hard to tell who is talking to who in all this noise." He returns her beaming grin with an amiable one of his own.
With the broadening of her already very pleased smile, the young lady takes her new found friend's hint at desiring conversation.
"Don't mention it!", she started,"I definitely understand, today is crazier than even I'm used to, its far beyond my wildest dreams of Ritzfield."
Pausing for a moment the girl seems to suddenly realize something important "Oh! Where are my manners not introducing myself first?" she inquired suddenly. "My name is Ester, how do you do Mr..."
Sparing Ester from an awkwardly drawn out pause, the young man replies. "Oh no, I'm not that old," his eyes widened a bit and a playful smirk overtook his smiling face, "Officially its Larin, but I usually go by Lar."
"Oh!" Ester exclaimed at another unrevealed revelation, "Larin, that's the name of the seventh great sage, rig-"
"And precisely why I prefer Lar," Lar interrupted with the smirk melting from his face, "Sorry.. it's just, such a common name for being shared with one of the eight great saints."
More embarrassed than shocked at Lar's sudden change in demeanor, Ester's face becomes a bit flushed. "Oh.. right, I can see how that would get old, being such a known and commonly given name." Pushing the return of her lost grin with a petite one, she finishes her thought, "I'll bet you get unfairly compared all the time based on that name."
With a slowly returning smile of his own, Lar's eyes seem to glow a bit in gratitude. "Seems that you've read my mind, it's hard to escape the reality of a name given with high expectations and implied pressures for greatness."
Ester could sense the touchiness of the current subject for Lar. Wasting no time, she returns the conversation to the previously impossible to forget topic of the day. "So, did you come to see the festivities?"
With the look of an excited child upon his discovering a mountain of candy, Lar exclaims, "Did I?!"
"I don't live so far from here and I missed the last Rin's ceremony too, I couldn't pass up an opportunity like today!" he continued excitedly, better matching the atmosphere around them now.
"I'm excited too," Ester went on, "Even though there is no way someone like me could get a Rin to her very own self, I do love festivities."
"Speaking of," Lar politely intervened with inquiry, "When do they begin?"
"Promptly after the council presents the guest of honor herself," Ester paused before letting out an embarrassed laugh, "or himself I suppose, there hasn't been a female Rin since... I'm not sure if ever."
"The great lady Violet was actually the most recent," Lar asserted.
Ester nearly slapped her own forehead for her negligence. "Duh! How could I forget lady Violet?" she asked rhetorically."She isn't exactly ancient history, even for people our age."
Folding his hands on the table in front of them, Lar goes on with a fading smile, "To be fair, she was a Rin before she became the great lady Violet."
The contemplating look from earlier returns to Lar. "There's been no Rin like her before or since, most could be my grandparent by the time they are ordained. Violet was not only scarcely a mother by the time of her ordainment, but she is near singlehandedly responsible for the successful reforms that set in motion the most powerful changes Hielle has seen in this modern day."
Ester's jaw dropped and her mouth gaped wide open at Lar's astute assessment of one of the most influential people in recent memory.
"You must be a scholar to cite off all of that so confidentially," she said, with the amazed look not soon leaving her face. "There wasn't a single pause in your words, if I didn't know any better, I just hallucinated that a history book was talking to me."
Lar seemed to snap out of a trance like the one before the conversation began.
"Ah well, not a scholar, but I have been blessed to have access to some history books," Lar said while recovering his jovial enthusiasm again.
Giggling at her strange new friend, Ester responds, "A history nut, huh?"
"You could say that," Lar replied a bit slyly.
"Say, I should get going," Lar suddenly asserted, already standing up from the seat that had provided a most welcomed rest for his tired feet,"the ceremony is fast approaching."
"Hm?" Ester turned to look through the nearby window outside; the sun was already casting its long afternoon shadow onto everything. "Oh hey you're...," she trailed upon turning back to discover another bar goer in Lar's former seat. Standing up, she turned about, looking to see if she could spot her mysterious friend anywhere in the bar. After a bit of searching, she conceded that he must have something important to attend to leave so suddenly. With her hand, she tidied up a few strands of her long black hair that came loose, brushing them back behind her ears. Satisfied at that, she walked out of the tavern to head towards the town square. While walking, one strange thought did occur to her,
"He was right, the ceremony is coming up. but if he knew that, why did he ask when the festivities would begin?"
The thought only bugged Ester for a bit; she was more upset at the lack of a simple 'goodbye'. It would be one thing if he was like any other number of new people who let it be known they wish to be left alone. But he was actually very nice, and it did seem like he actually enjoyed the conversation along with her company. She felt that it was a shame to meet such a nice fellow that she'll never run into again, but it can't be helped.
Besides, she didn't have time to get lost in thought amongst the crowds that might be encroaching the town square; if she did, she might end up going in giant circles. It was nearly impossible to see much of anything beyond the ever-shifting, tiny spaces between the bodies moving along with her. While she isn't tiny, Ester is at no benefit with her height to help her navigate towards the commencement ceremony.
Ester knows that she can't assume that everyone has the same destination either; personally, she could really care less about the on stage formalities of the council introducing the new Rin nor the lengthy speeches from the Rin and other council members that follow. To her left, the crowd is visibly parting to make way for the two men carrying a bundle of heavy lumber overhead, evidence that setup for all sorts of later activities was still in progress.
Ester could even care less for any of the festivities themself, if it means furthering the already languidly crawling delay back to the usual daily business she has grown accustomed to. She did not exaggerate her feelings about today's chaos one bit. She really would have never dreamed that Ritzfield could have gotten as crazy as it was even a week ago from today. Her first year in Ritzfield was more than enough to get adjusted to the routine of things, yet in all of her total six years here, today was something to behold.
Just now, Ester can hear some local law enforcement getting a scuffle under control. It seems that a small fight between two overenthusiastic patrons had broken out in front of the tavern. This provides a sharp reminder of how slowly the crowd is moving along the overcapacity streets, as she left that very tavern at least an inch or two of her overcast shadow ago, not to mention that said tavern is still an earshot behind. Spotting a minute thinning through the wall of bodies ahead, Ester takes the opportunity to make some headway while reflecting a bit on her past.
Ester had worked hard for many of her childhood years to be able to afford the opportunity of moving into an artisan's house as a lowly bakers apprentice. She actually hated cooking, baking or otherwise. It is a lot of work and pays very little, not to mention that she has very little to show for her six years of apprenticeship. But when the stranded, brash young man who she graciously offered her bed to rest in, the only remaining bed in the run down commune that she shared with 4 other poor farmer families, had turned out to be a Ritzfield baker's son, she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity that the son's grateful father offered.
Not a day passes that Ester is not questioning herself. Could she possibly do more? Was it a mistake to take the baker's offer afterall? She loved Mr. Spentsworth to death, as he is like the father she never had. But if anything, this was even more reason to regret her decision of leaving her old life behind. No one really depended on her at the faming commune, because there was little work to be done. At the very least, no one ever had to worry about having enough food to eat, and as huddled as everyone was in the only available, run-down shacks, they were always able to make room for one more.
Ester couldn't disappoint people who had no need to count on her, afterall. But things are different now, at least one person depends on her, and it is someone she has grown very close to at that. It's bad enough that Mr. Spentsworth was never one to not fall upon hard luck himself, his careless and trouble-making son gives him enough grief without Ester leaving an entire day's worth of bread to burn into lumps of coal.
It has never been easy, but Ester is always sure to keep a smile on her face. She might be ready for the day to be over and done with, but it really is a once in a lifetime event. As Ester makes her crawling progress to the nights main event, she can't help but smile.
