"No, Calligrapher," Thirukedi said. "There is another world which the aunera do not know yet and that we have no need of, beyond the colony. It is there that I have sent them."
"You have exiled the aunera from their own world?" I asked, stunned.
"I have exiled the lord," Thirukedi said. "The aunera chose to accompany him rather than break off association with him." His voice gentled. "Do not be afraid for them, Calligrapher. They have already been stranded here, lacking the Gates; their ships must travel incredible distances to reach worlds that we can walk to. By nature they are explorers, and the thought of an entirely new world excites their curiosity. They will manage."
"And the lord," I said softly. "We will not hear from him again?"
"You will not," Thirukedi said. "But I will."
This the two of us considered in silence.
Kor said, then, "They are not animals, master."
"Of course not," Thirukedi said.
"Then why..." I began, and then stopped, blushing at my own temerity.
"Why do I require them to be treated thus?" Thirukedi said. At my expression, He nodded. "They are not Ai-Naidar, my osulked. They look enough like us, seem enough like us to foster complacency. But the values that have shaped them are too different from those that we have chosen to shape us. Our society, our way of living, our way of evaluating change and consciously deciding what change we allow... is so alien to them that they cannot conceive of it. They do not plan civilization the way we do. They find the notion of such planning monstrous, or absurd, or unsustainable. And they have a need to disturb systems that seems like caprice, but is actually a survival response: they see serenity and must know if it can stand disruption, or if the serenity is false."
"They would come among us, and could not resist trying to change us," Kor said.
"Or improve us. Or help us. Or simply pull our tails, to see if we would react," Thirukedi said.
"Then... they will never be enough like us for there truly to be anything between us worth fostering," I said, ears flat.
Thirukedi smiled. "That, I did not say, Calligrapher. They may become something like a shinje in time... a complement to Kherishdar, strong where we are weak, and weak where we are strong. But before that comes to pass, they must accept what we are and be willing to respect our desire to remain fully ourselves. As it is, most aunera would mistrust Kherishdar on first hearing. They would believe me a malicious force, and all of you slaves; they would call the evaluation of the ishas a pretty lie, impossible to implement; they would see the castes and believe them prisons, rather than the structures that give form to our lives, and make contentment possible. Some few among them would trust us to be what we say we are. Most of them would not."
"Lenore," I whispered.
"And Andrew Clarke," Thirukedi said, saying their names without accent. "Yes. They believe. Enough to have fallen in love with Qenain, and through him, with Kherishdar. But even they have their misgivings." He looked away from us, perhaps toward some sight only He could see. "The matter wants time, that is all. Perhaps, with enough time, the aunera will look upon Kherishdar and see us rather than the reflection of their own fears."
"Not in our lifetimes," Kor said, subdued.
"No," Thirukedi said. "But I will see it come to pass."
Such a sharp, deep silence. I inhaled against the silk of his robe, turning my eyes against it, and tried not to think of the generations between us and that distant day when the love of the lord of Qenain and his aunera might no longer be considered perverse... by both our peoples.
Thirukedi's smile was in His voice, and it lifted both our faces. "In this step toward that end the two of you have served me well, and I am pleased.... particularly to see that you have both found your healing."
"So it was true!" I exclaimed. "You sent me to mend a broken pot, and it was me!"
Thirukedi laughed. "Yes, Farren. You were the pot. And so was Kor." At my shocked stillness, He lifted his brows in an expression so like Shame's it disarmed me. "Shall I not hold your names on my tongue? Even Civilization might love His servants, and invite them to a deeper intimacy. Besides, what is to be said now must be said from a master to his servants, not as Civilization to its people." Looking at Kor, he said, "You are long overdue to take up your duty as a family man, Kor Nai'Nerillin. Your having found an ajzelin and a lover incapable of giving you children does not excuse you."
"Masuredi—" Kor began, rueful.
"Do not think to sway me with oratory," Thirukedi said. "You must stop living in your temple as if you expect your life to end there as too many of your predecessors' have. You are the first priest to succeed Tsevet in full and I will not have you break in your prime. You are no longer to labor alone, nor will you allow your ishas to consume you as it has." Gentler, "Kor, you have earned a life apart from Shame's. Let your beloveds into that life now that they are at the door."
"Yes," I muttered. "Before they kick it in."
"And you," Thirukedi said to me, tipping my chin up. "No more the solitary artist's life. It feeds a spirit already given to melancholy. It does not suit you; you must give it up."
"Master!" I said, embarrassed. "I did not intend to return to it!"
"Good," He said. "And to be sure that you hold to that intention, I am issuing you both a property, which you will take for your new house. You will find it salubrious, I believe; it is within the temple district. And I highly suggest you settle the matter of your family relation."
I glanced at Kor helplessly, who looked just as flustered (for once!) as I.
"Sheviet... I don't know if they would take you," I said. "I hardly communicate with them at all—"
"Nerillin adopted me," Kor was saying, "but they are not comfortable with what I've become—"
We both stopped short and stared at one another.
"Then you will have to take a new family name," Thirukedi said. "I suggest Qevellen."
One must forgive a calligrapher for losing a breath to such a name, for it is rare in these days for anything new to begin with that sound... which meant that Thirukedi had given us an ancient name. Even Kor looked suitably humbled.
"It is a beautiful name," I murmured, ears lowered. "May your servant ask after its pedigree?"
There was no mistaking the hint of humor in His voice then. "The matter would require research. I leave that exercise to you both."
Kor and I glanced at one another before he spoke. "Masuredi, on the matter of children..."
Thirukedi said, "Do you forget your own childhood, Shame? Adopt a few if you will not beget them yourself. And see if your Guardians, who gave up their chance at assignment elsewhere to follow you to the shrine, would like to join Qevellen. Then your new head of household can take them to the Summer Tryst and find them wives, and you will have more than enough children to promulgate the name."
"The new head of household?" I said, still trying to encompass the changes.
"That would be you," Kor said past His legs. "I am too young."
