Gardens!

[venerable_ibis]

"...And of trees, of course I have the doum palm, which is dear to me, and the date and the dellach palms; the persea and the fig-sycamore; the almond and the carob; the acacia and the pomegranate. You will not see the ished-tree itself, for that is not kept in my little garden. But I think you will like what you do see, it is shady and quiet..."

As they step from the Milliways library through the door to Djehuty's mansion, he absent-mindedly takes his more usual form. On the other side lies a stone-floored hallway, warm and dry. A baboon greets them with a reverent gesture and begins to make a report to Djehuty--and of course there's no Milliways to translate. But after Djehuty nods to the baboon and makes a brief reply, he switches to French. He's made a quick study.

"This is my home--welcome, Jehan Prouvaire, Beloved of Bast. We are still in the afterlife, in the Duat, and there are many dead here, many gods and many fearsome things, but no one will disturb us in the garden but my ibises."

Comments

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan listens avidly as Djehuty lists off the trees. Doum palm, he's read of that, and of course the date palm, though the dellach palm is a bit of a mystery. He nods at the baboon, delighted, as they enter, though he has no idea what the baboon says.

Djehuty, though, is speaking perfectly clear French. ('Beloved of Bast' never does fail to thrill.)

"Thank you again for your kind invitation," Jehan says. "I don't fear the other dead--perhaps I should? But I don't." He looks around the stone hallway, wide-eyed, wondering where the entrance to this marvelous garden is.

[venerable_ibis]

"Oh, no, why would you fear the dead? These are the justified dead, like you; peaceful men and women enjoying their gardens and their fields. There are some places here that are terrible, but you will be safe staying on the paths. The dead are very dear to me, I see them in person so much more than the living..."

He's walking as he talks, and soon they are at the garden itself. It's very regular, very geometrical, very un-Romantic, a high-walled terrace: but it is shady and it is quiet, and the air is perfumed with flowers and the light and wind move across the long rectangular pond and its lilies. Djehuty takes a deep breath and looks to Jehan. "Do you like it?"

[vive_lavenir]

"That's very good to hear. I wouldn't like to fear the dead--I never have before." Privately Jehan wonders if Djehuty would continue to think him justified after knowing Jehan died in a revolt against a king, but--they can approach that later.

Jehan looks at the geometrical garden. It's certainly more orderly than any garden Jehan himself would design. But the perfume is lovely and has a barely-there ephemeral quality, the flowers are strange and vivid, the atmosphere as serene as a clear morning at dawn, and the serenity seems to work its way into the soul. Above all, it's the garden of the Egyptian god Djehuty.. Jehan's eyes are wide and shining as he breathes, "Oh! Like isn't a sufficient word, but...yes, very much. I've never encountered a place of such peace."

This is the literal truth. Jehan grew up around Marseilles, and then came to Paris. Neither city is known for its peace--and Milliways is too full of oddities, and Javert, to be described as precisely peaceful.

[venerable_ibis]

It hasn't occurred to Djehuty that Jehan could doubt his justified quality: hasn't he been judged and pronounced good?

He takes a happy breath at Jehan's praise and looks around. "I have caused there to be fish in the water, little red fish, and frogs. Let us walk and see." With a polite gesture, he indicates a stroll. "Do ask me about any of the plants; I don't want to bore you with things you already know. And--if it is not an imposition on a guest--I would like to hear more of your ideas on government."

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan looks with interest at the little red fish. But he straightens up at Djehuty's last sentence, as they stroll along. "0f course. It's no imposition at all. My thoughts on government-well, I have a lot of them! Are you curious about anything in particular?"

Jehan stops to gaze at some blue-lilies.

[venerable_ibis]

Djehuty rubs his beak thoughtfully. "You understand, I cannot quite settle it in my heart, that there should be no king. It is the ordinary way of things. The king has his advisors to council him, and to see that all is just and well in the land. But setting aside the principle, if we may, simply for a little time, can you tell me how men come to choose representatives? That is what you said, I think: that men choose representatives, and those representatives make decisions. But how do the men select them, and how do the representatives do the will of their masters?"

[vive_lavenir]

"I understand, of course." Jehan isn't very good at putting aside the principle of things, but discussion can only ensue when both participants are ready.

He is, however, good at discussing logistics. "Those who would be representatives present their qualifications, their plans, their visions, to those who would vote. In my lifetime, only a tiny percentage of the population could do so--the extremely rich and well-established. They also had to be over thirty and male. Only a small sliver of the people, and even their voice could be drowned by the king's. In future times, it's different. Better. It varies by country, but in my land of France, there are two...sets of representatives. A National Assembly, and a Senate. They both pass laws after discussion." And horse-trading, and skullduggery, but Jehan glosses over that for the moment. "The National Assembly has, oh, 577 deputies at the moment. Each of those deputies is elected by the majority of a constituency of around 100,000, which includes all of the grown citizens--over the age of eighteen--in an area. All of them. Men and women, rich and poor, even those with no property at all, and those of all colors." Jehan declares all this with a certain pride.

"The Senate has about 350 members. It's elected mostly by people designated by local officials, who are themselves elected by the people...and I've been going on for a long time, I'm afraid! But that's the beginning of an answer to your question."

[venerable_ibis]

Djehuty isn't very good at setting aside principles himself. And such principles these are, to set aside! Even for the simple sake of discussion! A king and his good advisors, guarding the people with the blessing of the gods, what could be more right? But it's intriguing, this notion of representatives.

He nods at the two sets of representatives; paired powers are entirely natural to an Ancient Egyptian god. But, hmmmm. "One hundred thousand people! One man--or woman?--decided on by one hundred thousand people. How do they manage it? And of these you have 577, meaning a population of some 57,700,000. But I have seen a map; the people in your France must be packed very close, so perhaps it is easier to find the opinions of one hundred thousand men and women... Your scribes must be kept very busy! I hope they are an honest set?"

There's another question he would like to ask, but after offending Joly he wants to tread lightly. "And--a digression, perhaps--but is it the case that people in your country put a great deal of weight on the shade of a person's skin?"

[vive_lavenir]

"Each man and woman decides which candidate they would prefer, and then votes. Our scribes are honest, yes! And clever, too--there's machinery to prevent any tampering with the vote count. At one point, each voter would write down their preferred candidate on a slip of paper, and put it into a box, and then trusted people would count the slips. But there have been improvements. Later there's a machine that would punch holes in a piece of paper inside the machine, corresponding to each candidate, when a lever is pulled--and no one can touch the paper. And still later there are computers. These are so far beyond my time I can't understand them." Jehan laughs, a little embarrassed. "They're a sort of calculating machine, and they count votes so no one can tamper or lie about the count." No one except hackers, who Jehan has read about, but his understanding of them is as hazy as his understanding of computers. "I have plans to read more about them, in the Library. They're fascinating."

Jehan sobers at the mention of skin color. "Sadly, yes. My country, France, originally had mostly pale-skinned people. Paler than me, anyway." Jehan knows some southerners who come close, but no one not from Haiti or Martinique or Guadeloupe who can match him. "France, like some other countries populated by the pale-skinned, has invaded and conquered the lands of darker people, enslaved many of them--us--" And that switch between 'them' and 'us,' that's also learned. Jehan Prouvaire's family originally hailed from Haiti, and some of his ancestors kept slaves themselves. "--and denied them opportunities for education, employment, the vote. It's...Joly and I, we're free, we live in France itself and not the colonies, and we may go about our business and attend schools at will. But our place is always questioned, always dubious, and those with our color but without our good fortune...they have great struggles, greater even than others in France." Jehan looks melancholy. He doesn't disapprove of struggles as such. But a struggle for humanity itself, a struggle to be acknowledged as a man and not a beast--the degradation there cuts too deep. Too close to the bone. He looks away.

[venerable_ibis]

"Ah, computers! I know of them, somewhat! They work by logic and command, like words of power; a person writes the program. I spoke to a computer program in Milliways, a pleasant young man." (Yes, so maybe Prouvaire would do better to read about them in the library.)

But what Jehan is telling Djehuty is nowhere near as pleasant. He listens, still and grave. "You are saying that whether a person is a slave or not, foreign or not, his skin will mark him out for disdain. --I am sorry," he says, seeing Jehan's look of pain; Djehuty touches the young man's shoulder briefly. "I am so sorry for asking a distressing question. Would you prefer we spoke of voting?"

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan knows Djehuty likely has no problem with slavery as such, only with the prospect of a free man being treated with contempt for the color of his skin. Still--something like fraternity lies behind that sentiment as well, even if it's underdeveloped. For which Jehan supposes he can't really blame an Egyptian god, even if he wants to.

It's also impossible to feel anything for Djehuty besides a strong, sincere liking (and a certain painful shyness because he's an Egyptian god associated with writing, magic, science, and the dead--so many of Jehan's favorite things!). Djehuty is much too palpably well-meaning. "Of course you needn't apologize! I don't mind discussing it at all. Distressing topics must be spoken of, or else how can they be remedied, and how would people know each others' hearts? But voting, yes! I must tell you, I'm nothing like an expert on the topic. Voting was a much-discussed topic in my day, but it's been--will be--" Jehan has realized he doesn't know how to talk about time in Milliways. "--refined tremendously since. In the future, even after distinctions of property and color and sex are gone, ensuring fair representation is complicated. One must count all the voters, you see, to make sure each region has appropriate representation, but no more than that. And making sure the count is accurate is a question for mathematicians, and--are those poppies?"

Jehan loves mathematics and details of how political systems work on the most elementary level. He will take great umbrage at anyone who suggests these interests are incompatible with poetry, metaphysics, or music.

Still, it's not hard to distract him with flowers. And Djehuty's rich, peaceful garden is full of them.

[venerable_ibis]

"It is true; people who want to know each other's hearts must let those hearts speak about more than the year's harvest and the success of the latest festival. Or even gardens."

He listens to the description of voting. "That must be a great work, to count all the voters. Is it another task for computers, or for men? Have you scribes that go to every house? --Or rather, will you? I know you are talking about something beyond your time--"

Djehuty glances over his shoulder and laughs. "Yes! Those are my field poppies, and beside them the medicinal poppies. Do you know them?"

[vive_lavenir]

"Yes! All people are counted, and...both computers and men are involved, I believe. An official delivers the correct forms with questions to each house." Jehan laughs again, self-consciously. "I'm not sure of the details, I admit, but it's something I intend to read more on. But it appears to be accurate! I was very impressed to read of it--it speaks well of the industry and knowledge of the future."

"I do know them," Jehan says, of the poppies. "They're such vibrant flowers, and the medicinal ones are--very useful."

Jehan actually hasn't used opium often, but once or twice, yes.

[venerable_ibis]

"In that great library, at Milliways, surely they will have many volumes on the subject. Because when you say appropriate representation, hmmm, of course the people of one place have their own particular needs that a stranger will not understand; but then, they will not all agree even so..."

He touches the petals of one of the opiums and nods. "They are a blissful plant. So kind to anyone suffering in pain, and greatly soothing even to the healthy. It can be treated like resin or frankincense; a fine plant."

[vive_lavenir]

"Indeed! They won't agree, and that's why there must be discussion and debate beforehand, so all views may be heard and perhaps a consensus may form--but even so, there will be people who differ from the general view."

Jehan looks curiously at the medicinal poppies. "Do people make offerings of opium to you, then? Like incense?"

[venerable_ibis]

"Hmm, not in that form, no. It sounds like a very nice offering," Djehuty says, a shade wistfully. "I am partial to many sorts of incense, you know."

But that sounds importunate. "What of the ones who differ from the general view? Are they protected by the same laws?"

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan notes the wistfulness. "...oh? So to make an offering, one would simply just light the incense? Or...take opium?"

This sounds like a remarkably pleasant way of making an offering to a god.

"Yes, of course they are--that's the hallmark of a just law in such a society, that it applies to all, with no distinctions of birth or status or political opinion. Those who differ, they may try to persuade their neighbors, they may vote according to their opinion--and if they fail, well, they are still protected by the law. They may still walk about protected from crime, they may pursue art and science and business as they will."

[venerable_ibis]

"Well, a dedication of some sort, so it goes to the right god, is usual," Djehuty murmurs, busying himself among the flowers. "But of course no one is obliged to make offerings."

He really does like incense, though!

"--And are they well-protected from crime?" he asks, lifting his head from an inspection of a cluster of irises. "With so many people, it must be difficult."

[vive_lavenir]

Djehuty is very subtle! So subtle that only one of Jehan Prouvaire's heightened poetic sensitivities can intuit his feelings! "I see," says Jehan, nodding solemnly. "And if someone chose to make an offering, a declaration that it's dedicated to a particular god would be sufficient?" Jehan doesn't much care for protocol. But it's important to ensure gifts go to the intended recipients.

"It's certainly complex! But I believe so, yes, at least in France. Petty crime isn't uncommon in the France of the future. I refer to pickpockets and such. Though I'm only conversant with France through the end of the 21st century. But in that time, crimes of violence are rare. I believe the same is true for many similarly governed nations at the time." Jehan frowns, and adds, "Not all, of course. Corruption, poor governance, venality, neglect--these may lead to crime in any sort of country. Even one where the people vote."

[venerable_ibis]

"Oh, yes. Gods and humans alike love ceremony, but we are not truly so deaf that we need all our names and titles listed just to hear a person speak. Or to receive any sort of petition or prayer."

He listens to Jehan's list of ills with a certain melancholy. "This is so. I abhor corruption, venality, such neglects of duty and justice. But even a good king can be misled by a wicked official, or indeed by goodwill that leaves him blind to a servant's faults. When you have many people voting, do they indeed correct this flaw? They are more alert to dishonesty or incompetence, and they have the power to replace an official when it ought to be done?"

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan listens carefully as Djehuty talks about offerings and prayer. "And--forgive me for asking what must seem very elementary to you--but does one make offerings because one has something specific to ask for? Or is it ritual piety, or simply...a greeting of sorts?"

(Can someone light incense--or opium--just to say 'hi,' just for instance?)


He pauses and considers before answering Djehuty's question. "They correct it to some extent. If the wicked or incompetent official harms the people in some way, a king or other officials may not even notice it, even if they're well-intentioned, because it's outside their own experience. The king or officials will not be harmed by a corrupt policeman or judge or deputy. But the people who suffer from the wickedness, or the incompetence--they notice. If it affects people to a sufficient degree of severity, and in sufficiently large numbers, then the majority of the people will vote to replace the official. Or to replace the person who appointed him in the first place. Governments are very large and complex in the future, even more so than they were in my time or yours." Jehan, unlike some, finds this complexity interesting! There are detailed laws in place, about capital and marriage and employment and salary and such! And the liberty to think and love!

He hesitates before adding, "I don't wish to give you the impression that all problems are corrected without fail. If a problem only affects a minority of people, for instance, and the majority is indifferent to the plight of their countrymen, and the officials and judges and ministers ignore it--then that problem remains, and worsens. But, because the majority may act to replace lawmakers, the people are much less likely to suffer helplessly under a wicked or neglectful person in power."

[venerable_ibis]

"Oh, an offering for any reason is welcome! It is always kind. But here, I am speaking of offerings, while my guest goes hungry and thirsty. What may I give you? Wine? Fruit? Bread?"

Governments more complex than that of Egypt! It's such a tempting subject. "To whom do the minority have recourse? Priests and gods? Or to the good nature of the majority?"

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan turns purple from sheer delight. Being offered food and drink in the garden of an Egyptian god sounds like something from a myth or legend.

Possibly it will end with Jehan being unable to leave the garden because he's eaten food from it. Jehan finds this idea morbidly thrilling. "Wine would be lovely, thank you," he murmurs.

"They may seek help from priests and gods, yes!" Though they don't often, from what Jehan has read. It's somewhat disappointing, but rites for gods or spirits or saints seem somewhat unusual in France and similar countries. Jehan thoroughly approves of a secular government--in fact, he died fighting for one--and the liberties that attend such a government. But he wishes more people would freely light candles and do midnight rites by the fire and commune with spirits. He knows some do, and that's a comfort. "And also from the good nature of the majority. There are also some laws protecting minorities that can't be changed without a long and complicated process requiring the consent of more than a majority of the people and the officials, so that the minorities aren't dependent on the political whims of the immediate moment."

[venerable_ibis]

Oh dear--is that a usual color for him? Well, he seems to be all right.

"Ah, more than a majority? Some high percentage, greater than simply the half? --I am very interested in your laws. They are written? They are publicly known to all?"

As he speaks, a baboon arrives carrying a tray--fruit, triangular loaves of bread, little cooked fishes--and another with him carrying a jug of wine and two glasses. They set them up discreetly by a long low seat, wide enough for two.

[vive_lavenir]

(Yes, Djehuty, that's a usual color for him.)

"Yes. Well, for instance--France has a Constitution. A, a sort of document of the most basic rules of justice that govern the country. And if a law is passed, the Constitutional Council--they are judges--may strike it down as violating the Constitution. And to amend the Constitution, the National Assembly and the Senate must first approve the proposed change. After that, the change must either be approved by a vote by the majority of the people, or else a vote by three-fifths of both the National Assembly and the Senate. There are several procedural hurdles before any of this can happen. And yes--the laws are publicly written, known to all, so all may have notice of what is and isn't illegal." He pauses. "In your Egypt, then, are the laws secret?"

Jehan looks with utter glee at the baboon carrying the tray, but waits for Djehuty before sitting down.

(A baboon. Even more exciting than rats!)

[venerable_ibis]

The ibis and the baboon are both sacred to Djehuty; while the ibis may secretly be dearer to his heart, the baboon has many advantages, such as hands.

Djehuty sits, and takes a goblet, and gestures to Jehan. "Please, be comfortable, help yourself, let us be informal here! You will tell me if you need anything else? These figs are from my own garden here." He begins himself, dipping his long beak into the goblet and then tilting back his head to swallow.

"Ah. --No, our laws are not secret. But it is difficult to make a new decree made known throughout the land, as far as the serf in his field; most of our law comes from long custom and the precedent of past cases. It is adequate, you know, when it comes to the things everyone knows to be wrong. Theft, violence, open sacrilege or treason. It is adequate," he repeats, sounding a bit discontented. "But I like this idea of a Constitution. For clearly there are some laws with more weight than others. And clearly it is right that every person should know the law."

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan sits, and takes a sip from the goblet. The beverage is unidentifiable but delicious. Palm wine, maybe? Jehan doesn't know if the Egyptians drank palm wine. He is making things up.

He nods as Djehuty talks of the difficulty in making new decrees known. "Yes, it can be difficult to make a new law known--but, you see, it's possible in future times. And, as you say, it's right. I believe in my time communication over long distances is easier than in yours. We have newspapers. I don't know if you do? News written down on paper, as the word implies, and sent to many people who wish to be informed." Sometimes even accurate news!

"Later on, with computers, it'll be even easier!" Jehan gets excited here. "There's something called telecommunications. Have you read of it? Instant communication, where someone speaks into a device, or types words at a computer, and someone else on a different device can immediately hear or read it."

Jehan takes a fig, which interrupts his enthusiastic ramble about the wonders of telecommunications.

[venerable_ibis]

Sadly it is not palm wine. If Djehuty had known Jehan wanted to try some--! But this is grape wine, from some ancient strain of grapes, something doubtless long gone from the world by the time of Prouvaire's birth.

"News papers! News papers, I have read of them in that marvelous library, and wondered. That so many people should be able to read; that so many copies should be produced at once. The printing press. Is it--have you seen one yourself? A printing press? You must have grown up with books around you from your childhood--and then there will be the people growing up with these computers around them from their childhood. I am fascinated."

He picks up one of the little fish with his fingertips and swallows it. Beakily.

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan also tries a little fish. They're somewhat salty and have a strong taste, but Jehan likes it. Also, Djehuty's beaky swallowing is endearing.

"Yes, I've seen one! I've used printing presses myself. I helped run two different newspapers, but what I used was very primitive compared to to the computers of the future. And I was fortunate enough to grow up with books around me, though my aim--all my friends' aim--was for a world where one didn't need to be fortunate to find books."

He pauses. "In your Egypt, then, is written material rare?"

[venerable_ibis]

"Oh, I would not say rare! If you had asked me before I saw Milliways, I would have said that we are the best-lettered people of the world. But then, I am a scribe, you know, and I have especially to do with scribes. Away from that life, I think perhaps you would find my land lacking compared to your own."

It's...an admission. But Djehuty is more excited than daunted by it. "I would like very much to hear about your aims, your friends' aims. Books, as well as representative government?"

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan almost laughs. "Yes, books as well as representative government! Books more so, if you ask some of us. Like Combeferre. You met him. When he was being a pterosaur. But you can see how they're intertwined--to have a voice in the government, one must know something of it. So we wanted universal and compulsory education, instruction in the arts and sciences...knowledge free as air."

Jehan sounds wistful by the end of his little speech. So much of this has been achieved--and so much hasn't.

[venerable_ibis]

"Yes, Combeferre! He was a...pterosaur, you say? You were a phoenix, that was quite clear. Did you like it?" Djehuty can't imagine not liking it--what a lovely thing it is to fly and to see the world from the sky.

It's harder, in some ways, to imagine a world where everyone has access to the written world, where it's so common that anyone could read about anything. Knowledge free as air! Djehuty sips his wine and thinks it over. "You know, I am charged with keeping secret knowledge. Knowledge has such a heavy value, when it is hard to find. Tell me how it is, with such free knowledge? Free as air! Humans flying through a world of information."

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan considers how to answer carefully. "Milliways is the closest thing to a world with free knowledge that I've lived in. With its Library, information is vaster and freer than even in the future, as far as I've read of it. One can learn of anything there, at no cost to oneself. And--the value of information isn't degraded there, for the value of information doesn't depend on keeping it from others." He smiles. "Combeferre would tell you it increases in value the more widely it's shared. For myself, I find knowledge, like art, to have worth in itself, without regard to who else knows it."

[venerable_ibis]

"I must think about this. Certainly it was my purpose in writing the first word: that it should be a gift to men, that they should use it, teach it, expand upon it. Did you know that they have developed their own ways of writing, too, not only the figures I gave them! It is lovely to see how fast the scribes write in their own script, though the words have less power..."

The tension between secrecy and education is something Djehuty feels within himself, though has never quite formulated words like privilege and academia and accessibility. He pauses and pours himself more wine, and offers to refill Prouvaire's cup as well. "But do you love your knowledge, when it is easy to find? I know that I love a calculation better when it has taken me long efforts; it is a delight to discover a great mystery. Do people so far in the future have no secrets to learn?"

[vive_lavenir]

"I know shamefully little about Egyptian writing--but yes, I did know they had their own script. Do your figures have special power, then?"

Jehan happily accepts more wine, and takes a long sip before answering. "I love knowledge if it is beautiful, or if it's sublime, or if it helps me see the world better, or if it inspires me to create something--or if it's useful. Combeferre would likely say he loves all knowledge that makes him more curious about the world, that raises more questions he can investigate. But--there is still so much knowledge that's difficult to find! Even with free education. In the future, certainly, and even in Milliways. There are things no man has discovered. And even if someone has discovered it, and written it down somewhere, finding it can be hard, intense, thrilling work. Even if it's in the Library, and there are no barriers of class or education--one must still find it. And then, harder still, one must comprehend it. To understand a piece of knowledge, to see how it fits into a larger whole, to see how it affects your view of the world--isn't that a delight in itself? Do you not find it so? I do, and it's even greater when I can make something of it."

[venerable_ibis]

"Well, the manner of writing affects the power of the words, you know." Djehuty means it in a rather more literal sense than people usually do, but doesn't think to clarify.

He takes a long sip as well, while Jehan talks. "Oh, yes! Yes, indeed, that is a delightful thing, a beautiful thing, to find some piece of understanding that settles in harmony with the whole--perhaps that settles the whole into harmony. Oh, yes. I am so glad to hear that that feeling will persist."

[vive_lavenir]

"Oh? Do you mean--your figures evoke more powerful feelings than other scripts do, or--?" Jehan has a delightful suspicion Djehuty may be speaking of actual magic.

"Yes, exactly! Into harmony--or perhaps, into raw and joyous chaos, from which something new may be born." Jehan says this despite knowing Djehuty likely won't share his joy in some forms of chaos. But...it needs saying. For Jehan it does, anyway.

[venerable_ibis]

"Oh--well, you know, a figure of a lion, or a serpent, it always has power, even when it is part of a word." Djehuty keeps meeting people whose notion of magic and power is profoundly different from his. It's interesting, very interesting! But opens so many unexpected misunderstandings.

Like... "Joyous chaos." He sounds politely doubtful.

((Oh FUCKdammit I'm so sorry, I really really didn't mean to drop this thread, my notification got lost in other RP emails because I suck. Guh, I'm sorry.))

[vive_lavenir]

"What sort of power do you mean? Do you mean--to call upon a god, perhaps?" Jehan is extremely confused and probably misunderstanding Djehuty completely, but he's also very intrigued.

"The sort of chaos that allows for commonly accepted falsehoods and ignorance to be challenged, for shackles to be broken, for truths to be discovered and brought to light." Jehan speaks lightly, but there's an underlying Romantic fervor there. It's probably highly noticeable.

oh, no worries! :D We can totally let it drop if you think it's gone on too long though.

[venerable_ibis]

"Yes," he says quietly, but amused, "that is one thing a person can do, call on a god. We can be obliged to hear, but I can say for myself that I always like to hear from people." It's not exactly what Jehan was asking, but perhaps he should know?

"Hm, hm. I am familiar with this chaos--in its metaphysical form, if not its worldly form, I am familiar with this chaos. I know its necessity. But I am unable to love it. Perhaps you can tell me what form this chaos takes for you, and how it is that you love it?" He's serious: Djehuty is by nature unable to take pleasure in chaos of any sort, but he would like to understand what it means to Jehan.

Leaning over to pick up a piece of fruit, he laughs softly. "Oh, and Jehan, this will please you, now that you have been a phoenix yourself. There is one story that the benu bird, our Egyptian phoenix, was the first creature to appear in the world, the first to emerge from the chaos before creation. In one text he says, I am the phoenix, first creature to appear on the primordial hill that rose from Nun’s chaos. I look back over all that was, I recall each detail."

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan nods as Djehuty talks about liking to hear from people. He does want to know these things!

He considers Djehuty's question carefully. "For me, chaos is the moment before creation. Ideas and feelings clash like stormclouds in the sky, and there is thunder and lightning and noise, and sometimes, indeed, destruction. But--then there is rain, and new life. It's like that when I write anything, like a poem. Before I begin writing, there's nothing but a swirling darkness. And I experience all I can of that darkness. And somehow, because I know it, I can create something out of it." Jehan gives a sudden shy laugh, and blushes. "Forgive me, I can't explain it better than that."

To give himself something to do with his suddenly awkward hands, he takes another fig. "It's like the primordial hill in your story, I suppose--things arise from the chaos. The text you speak of sounds...rich, with many layered meanings, even in those few lines." Jehan is, predictably, enchanted. "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the benu bird. Is it a magical bird, or is it part of ordinary nature, or do you make that distinction at all?"

[venerable_ibis]

"Ah." Djehuty is nodding, thinking he understands somewhat. "Yes--yes, that is one thing I mean when I say chaos. And from it everything is born. Without that chaos there would never have been...any thing." He touches his fingertips to the amulet on his chest, the feather of Ma'at. "I am unable to love it," he says again, "it is not my nature to love it. But I feel its place in my cosmos. You are someone who wades in that chaos, I think, lives in its margin, if it can be said to have a margin. --But perhaps I mistake you? I do not mean to pronounce on your nature, it is not my place."

He would hate to change anything about this delightful dead person, even by impressing his own words onto him. "As to the benu, it is like a water-bird, on long legs, but it is a manifestation of Re, of Osiris. I will draw you a picture, and then you will know if you see it."

Djehuty has a tablet with papyrus in his hand, and a reed pen, and makes a quick precise sketch of a sort of heron-looking bird.

[vive_lavenir]

Jehan's brow furrows. "No, no. I think you may be right--except, perhaps, you're being too kind. I do enter that chaos, since I try to create, but I believe only the greatest artists and visionaries can live in its margins. I believe I see, a little, why you can't love it. Your garden has such a beautiful serenity, the opposite of any turbulence." Jehan takes a deep breath. "I do love it here," he adds, and then blushes. Even death hasn't cured him of the blushing, it seems.

"Oh!" Jehan says, as he looks at the drawing. It's remarkably elegant, but why would he be surprised at that? "I've never seen such a bird. It's not unlike the form I took during Cubefall, though there are differences...so all such birds are the manifestation of Osiris, then?"

Jehan isn't sure what Egyptian ideas on this are. But Djehuty is no doubt the best person to ask, about both gods and birds.

[venerable_ibis]

"You are a very welcome guest," Djehuty answers quietly. "I am glad that you like my garden. --Ah, no, there is only one benu. But we have also birds somewhat like it, herons and wagtails, bitterns, egrets. Of course you know my ibis..."

Djehuty is more than capable of nattering on sociably about birds and gardens, and it is a pleasant time and place for just that, while other thoughts settle themselves.