A Rainbow Behind Her Lips
It took four months for my mouth to heal, almost a year before i could use my new tongue for everything the old one had been capable of. While i waited there was much to distract me from the pain, the silence and the entirely new approach to food. Lessons in dance and stillness with the Sisters Aeikinatai, observing those of the rites as i was permitted, training in and without weapons under the Sisters Eupsilikai, and much menial labor. Goats to milk, wool to spin, pilgrims to bless on the holy days (which duty seemed to me little different from caring for goats), and shifts in the kitchen and workshops.
As a novice, my primary exercise was that of self-restraint: i was a Glossariodas in physique alone, and trying the gifts of a full sister too soon is unpredictable. Some Sisters have early facility with their tongues, and understand its mysteries well before their second year. Once it has surely grown one with our own flesh, we may practice the hand, the serpent-lash, the arrow and other lower forms. I was not so blessed in that year, and wept at night for fear i could never speak again.
Sisters Arma and Baruthamba taught me truly to praise the Demiourgos for the blessing of time. Baruthamba, two grades above me and several years older, was a bit mad, given to visions and ecstasies. The lower forms came easily to her and while she slept we often heard her sing in the outer voice. In these iron days we seldom hear the outer voice even among the great Magai and Iriomateres, and indeed it has always been a rare blessing; in one so young, it was terrifying. For her own safety and ours as well, Baruthamba was put under the supervision of Maga Bronta the song-mistress. Long ill, Maga Bronta died of the waking-sickness within the year, but in that time Baruthamba built much art upon her talents. At the funeral she was suffered to intertwine a strand of her tutor's tongue into her own.
Poor Sister Arma of my own grade had no such fortune. Her acceptance into the Sisters Glossariodai had more to do with the wealth of her family than any spiritual gifts. Her mouth bled for months; "tongues of light do not lie," indeed! She lost use of her eyes. Her jaw flopped, the tongue often lolled out and shivered, and her head twisted horribly to the right. Rarely able to eat, Arma wasted away. We all pitied her and prayed, Baruthamba most of any of the novices.
Perhaps Baruthamba was a fool and prideful to try healing one so unsuitable for the Order as Arma, but with the permission of the Iriomateres she sang a hymn in the outer voice. I was there among those Sisters summoned to watch and pray. For half a night Arma knelt before Baruthamba, and for half a night Baruthamba intoned the voice of the Demiourgos through the starry gift of His Arkhons. When the sky grew rosy, Baruthamba bowed and embraced Arma, and Arma was able to untwist her neck, close her bruised mouth and open her eyes. They sat in silence for a moment, and how we praised the Demiourgos for His mercy!
As the first ray of the sun struck Arma's face, she opened again her mouth and uncoiled her tongue with control as she had never before possessed. Truly we were amazed! Those of the Sisters able to speak cried out in wonder and thanks. Shuddering, Arma then seized Baruthamba by the shoulders and drove the gleaming gift of the Stars deep into Baruthamba's left eye. The tip pierced through and out the back of her skull, then separated into its seven fibers and curved around the head and back into Arma's mouth. Both of them screamed, but Baruthamba's voice failed in a burst when the fibers constricted, crushing her skull.
It happened too quickly for anyone to act. Baruthamba lay dead, her blood pumping onto Arma, whose tongue strands now thrashed about as her wide eyes rolled. Baruthamba's tongue emerged from the shattered head and separated into its own eight fibers, which writhed for a moment before wrapping themselves into their waiting brothers. Arma screamed until well after her tongue ripped itself out of her throat to sway in the air above Baruthamba's neck, now a single limb pointing toward the heavens.
Arma's body was burned and her ashes taken to the sea. Baruthamba's body was placed in the Order's cemetery and a pomegranate tree was planted over it. What was done with the tongues is a mystery i am not permitted to write.
As a novice, my primary exercise was that of self-restraint: i was a Glossariodas in physique alone, and trying the gifts of a full sister too soon is unpredictable. Some Sisters have early facility with their tongues, and understand its mysteries well before their second year. Once it has surely grown one with our own flesh, we may practice the hand, the serpent-lash, the arrow and other lower forms. I was not so blessed in that year, and wept at night for fear i could never speak again.
Sisters Arma and Baruthamba taught me truly to praise the Demiourgos for the blessing of time. Baruthamba, two grades above me and several years older, was a bit mad, given to visions and ecstasies. The lower forms came easily to her and while she slept we often heard her sing in the outer voice. In these iron days we seldom hear the outer voice even among the great Magai and Iriomateres, and indeed it has always been a rare blessing; in one so young, it was terrifying. For her own safety and ours as well, Baruthamba was put under the supervision of Maga Bronta the song-mistress. Long ill, Maga Bronta died of the waking-sickness within the year, but in that time Baruthamba built much art upon her talents. At the funeral she was suffered to intertwine a strand of her tutor's tongue into her own.
Poor Sister Arma of my own grade had no such fortune. Her acceptance into the Sisters Glossariodai had more to do with the wealth of her family than any spiritual gifts. Her mouth bled for months; "tongues of light do not lie," indeed! She lost use of her eyes. Her jaw flopped, the tongue often lolled out and shivered, and her head twisted horribly to the right. Rarely able to eat, Arma wasted away. We all pitied her and prayed, Baruthamba most of any of the novices.
Perhaps Baruthamba was a fool and prideful to try healing one so unsuitable for the Order as Arma, but with the permission of the Iriomateres she sang a hymn in the outer voice. I was there among those Sisters summoned to watch and pray. For half a night Arma knelt before Baruthamba, and for half a night Baruthamba intoned the voice of the Demiourgos through the starry gift of His Arkhons. When the sky grew rosy, Baruthamba bowed and embraced Arma, and Arma was able to untwist her neck, close her bruised mouth and open her eyes. They sat in silence for a moment, and how we praised the Demiourgos for His mercy!
As the first ray of the sun struck Arma's face, she opened again her mouth and uncoiled her tongue with control as she had never before possessed. Truly we were amazed! Those of the Sisters able to speak cried out in wonder and thanks. Shuddering, Arma then seized Baruthamba by the shoulders and drove the gleaming gift of the Stars deep into Baruthamba's left eye. The tip pierced through and out the back of her skull, then separated into its seven fibers and curved around the head and back into Arma's mouth. Both of them screamed, but Baruthamba's voice failed in a burst when the fibers constricted, crushing her skull.
It happened too quickly for anyone to act. Baruthamba lay dead, her blood pumping onto Arma, whose tongue strands now thrashed about as her wide eyes rolled. Baruthamba's tongue emerged from the shattered head and separated into its own eight fibers, which writhed for a moment before wrapping themselves into their waiting brothers. Arma screamed until well after her tongue ripped itself out of her throat to sway in the air above Baruthamba's neck, now a single limb pointing toward the heavens.
Arma's body was burned and her ashes taken to the sea. Baruthamba's body was placed in the Order's cemetery and a pomegranate tree was planted over it. What was done with the tongues is a mystery i am not permitted to write.
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