Seth

Part 1 Reunion

Seth halted in his slow, almost painful climb, to pull off his snow goggles and squint at the white peaks of the mountains against the deep blue sky. In spite of his excellent condition, he laboured to breathe in the thin atmosphere, with little strength beyond a five second pause between steps. He pulled out his pocket altimeter... over 19 thousand feet... The pass should be close, now. He leaned against a boulder and closed his eyes. Just for a minute... then I'll move on again, he thought. It will be dark soon, and he had to get over the top and down to the valley, where Don said the ruins of the monastery lay... and Leo.

Father. Should he dare say it? A father with no more substance than a ghost, who had fled from his life in Japan as the master of a ryu, rejecting his promotion to Grand Master of the... The Way, as they called it... to take the place of Master Splinter.
In spite of everyone in the family trying so hard for so long to prepare themselves for Splinter's passing, it still came as a shock, as though they were beginning to believe Splinter would actually live forever. Maybe Splinter realized it, too, and had decided enough was enough. He had fallen asleep, one fine May morning, never to wake again.
There were strange days, following the funeral, with the four brothers wandering aimlessly around each other, like ants who had suddenly lost their scent trail. Mike, oddly enough, seemed to recover first, slowly reeling in Mother, who seemed in a perpetual state of tears. Then Don soon after, then Raphael, to a degree, though Seth was never completely at ease around him, and avoided him as much as possible, until Raph had gone to continue his teaching at the ryu.
Don had said Leo had great difficulty accepting his master's death, and as time passed, Leo became more and more despondent and inconsolable. He was often found sitting in his accustomed place in Splinter's room, staring at the empty bed, unwilling to respond.
Then one day in late summer that same year, Leo disappeared without a trace. He had not taken any belongings, not even his beloved dai katana. There had been some talk of Leo going mad with grief and wandering blindly in the wilderness, or that he had simply committed suicide. Don knew better. So did Seth, and he had shrugged off the tentative suggestion that perhaps Leo was dead, even after another year had passed and no one had seen or heard from him.
Then, a friend of Don's from Nepal reported that the native goatherds were circulating a tale among themselves, that a new god had taken residence in a crumbling, abandoned monastery under the foreboding presence of Kangchenjunga, the third tallest of the great pillars on the Himalayan chain that is said to support the weight of heaven itself... last spring when the goatherds came up to their summer pastures, they found evidence that someone had been living there all winter, walls and roofs were freshly mended, and new wooden carvings of dragons mysteriously appeared to stand guard at the gateposts. No one dared to venture beyond those watchful, otherworldly eyes, for fear of demons or to invoke the wrath of what must truly be a god, for no earthly hands could have done these things so quickly and wonderfully. The locals made a pilgrimage to the gates of the monastery all through the short summer, to leave offerings of herbs, food, felt, tools and goats in hope of appeasing whoever lived there to forgive them of their intrusion, and perhaps favor them with good fortune, to see them through the harsh winter months.

A gust of wind flattened Seth against the rock face, bringing him back to the present, and he opened his eyes in time to see a boiling white cloud eating up the narrow path below him. Berating himself for daydreaming, he scrambled upward, focusing hard on the cleft between two house sized boulders several meters ahead, still seeing it in his mind's eye after the blindness of the whiteout struck him. Crouched against the gale that threatened to push him off into empty space, where he'd have plenty of time to think before hitting bottom, he felt with his mittened hands along the side of the cliff wall, gritting his teeth against the intense wind chill that seemed to slice through his parka, mask, overalls and boots. Soon his tail, hands and feet were too numb to feel, and he was rapidly losing his bearings, concentration, and motive for being there at all.
Motive for being there? It seemed Mother had asked him this already. This sort of weather was too harsh for his iguanid blood, she had scolded. It seemed that Mike also had tried to talk him out of going alone to Nepal, and failing, walked away, shaking his head in resignation, saying to mother that Seth was old enough to have his own will. It seemed that Don, in spite of Rahab's protests, had decided to help Seth in his mission... taking him to the point of departure in Kathmandu, asking questions of the locals through his employees, and sending Seth on his way, giving him directions and advice, and telling him to get to the monastery and return before the winter storms set in and caught him exposed to the wrath of the mountains. Alone, because no one else wanted to go to this haunted place that overlooked a forgotten valley, a place where only wild animals and dragons and strange, green gods resided.

Why are you here, Seth was asked. I have to be here, he said. There were no other options, it was something that rang in my ears, made my blood sing... since birth, even before. It's a bit like living in a vortex, beginning at conception, cartwheeling down a cyclonic funnel, from whatever point I was throughout my short life, I sensed I would end up here, and now. Even if it means the end... I have to be here.

Seth opened his eyes. It was too dark to see anything. He could hear nothing but the hum of silence in his ears. He took a breath, and held it, counting one... two... three... four... It was something he had practiced from early childhood, whenever he woke up from a bad dream, it was to see if he was still alive. If he were in heaven, which is eternal, then there would be no such thing as time, and therefore he'd be unable to count. He let out his breath in a mixture of relief and disappointment, and struggled to sit up. His head pounded, and he felt the weight of bandages on his hands and feet before he sank back against the roll of thick woolen felt, that served as a neck pillow. His fingers and toes throbbed painfully, and his mouth was dry. He coughed and cleared his throat, but his voice wouldn't work. He sighed in resignation, and closed his eyes again, waiting for morning, or someone to find him... whichever came first.
When he awoke again, he saw the soft red glow and smelled a crackling fire. A shadow wavered against the walls and wooden ceiling in the uncertain light, and Seth craned his neck to see a hooded, broad shouldered, white robed figure looking very much like a monk in the dim light, hunkered down in front of a hearth, stirring a small pot to prevent its contents from boiling over. After a time, he pushed the pot out of the hottest coals to the side of the hearth to simmer and boil down on its own.
"Hey," Seth managed to croak. "What're you doing?"
The monk didn't respond, but hooked the handle of a steaming kettle with a forked stick and stood up with it, face hidden beneath the shadow of the cowl.
Seth watched as the monk carefully poured some of the kettle's contents and a dipperful of water from a bucket into a bowl and brought it to his bedside.
As the bowl was offered to him, Seth peered up into the shadowed face, and then smiled. "I know you."
"Drink," the monk murmered, holding the bowl firmly to Seth's lower lip.
Not willing to argue, Seth drank. The tea was fragrant, almost sweet, leaving a mildly bitter aftertaste. Curling his tongue, Seth lowered his head to the pillow again. The monk had already turned away, and was now checking the contents of the pot, from which came a wonderful, toothy aroma. Seth's stomach growled.
"What is that," Seth asked, his throat clearer now.
"Goat stew," the monk answered, after a pause. He turned toward Seth, and lowered his cowl. His stoical expression was now seen clearly in the firelight, his pale eyes on Seth. A face like his own, only darker, not human, not reptile, but something in between. And in those eyes, something beyond the ordinary, as if any member of his family was ordinary...
"Leonardo," Seth said.
"Yes, I know." He heaved a sigh. "There is no escaping that. Go back to sleep, until this stew is done."
Seth smiled a little, as he let his eyelids close.

"You did not answer my question."
Seth looked up from his meal. Leo was kneeling on a mat opposite him, at the edge of the hearth that served as a table, and had been silently watching Seth eat.
"What... was the question? You've hardly said a word all morning." Seth felt defensive under Leo's motionless stare.
"What do you want, Seth?"
Seth cocked his head back, perplexed. "What do I want? Don't you realize I came up here to see you?"
"All you wanted was to see me?"
"Well, sure."
Leo picked up his bowl of tea and sipped from it, then gazed into its depths. "Then you have seen me. Are you happy now?"
Seth shifted into a more comfortable position on his mat. He wasn't used to kneeling on the floor, and his toes were still swollen from mild frostbite.
"Are you happy now?" Leo asked again, in the exact same tone.
"Happy..." Seth chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. "Can you define that?"
Leo continued to drink his tea.
"I can't," Seth went on. "Maybe YOU don't know what it's like, either."
Giving his bowl a deft swirl, Leo studied the bottom, then set it down. He frowned a little as though lost in thought. Seth waited, a vague sense of misgiving growing as the silent moments passed. Just as he decided to stand up to stretch his stiff limbs, Leo stirred.
"How is your mother," he asked.
"She's... doing okay," Seth answered warily.
Leo smiled and nodded. "Good. And your siblings?
"Uh, they're doing all right."
"You are not the youngest any more, are you?"
"No. I have another sister now, named Riahna. Do you know Gaele?"
"Gaele..."
"My older sister. She's pretty much grown up. Don really likes her. Riahna's the only full sibling she has. Devon and I are only half brothers to her..."
Leo stroked the side of his lip as Seth spoke, then suddenly stood, picking up the empty bowls and spoons. Seth decided it would be a good time to stand up and test his sore feet. He winced and stumbled, as he put his weight on them. Leo didn't seem to notice, as he lay the dishes in a wooden tub, and took a coarse broom down from its hook by the hearth. Seth hopped around to get his circulation going, then sat back down on the mat to rest his feet. Staring at the ground, Leo drew the broom along in measured strokes, making a soft rhythmic hiss across the flagstones.
"I understand you are my father," Seth said, watching Leo sweep.
The broom kept its pace, neither slowing or hurrying, as it swept the ashes into the firepit.
"Mother told me about you not too long ago."
The broom continued to sweep the hearth at the same measured pace.
"But I kind of knew it all the time. It was one of those things... I knew it, but never discussed it, and Mother probably knew that I knew, but wasn't sure, so she never brought it up. Maybe she was waiting for me to ask, and I think I was waiting for her to bring it up."
Leo continued to stare at the floor until he finished sweeping, then seemed to watch the broom a moment after hanging it on its hook.
"Last time I saw you, I was only five," Seth went on. "I never forgot that visit."
"And you are... how old?"
"Fifteen."
Leo's flat grey eyes showed a trace of amusement, as he looked Seth over. "Fifteen," he said half to himself. "A magical age, no?"
"Yeah, I know, I've heard it too many times already," Seth muttered. "At that age, you and your brothers had to live day to day in an endless quest for survival in the dark, sooty, smelly tunnels of New York City, hiding from people, eating out of garbage-" He caught the subtle look of warning in Leo's expression, and fell silent.
After a moment, Leo got up and poured hot water from the kettle into a large, tin tub, and washed out the bowls and utensils. He laid them upside down to drain on a slab of wood that served as a low cupboard, and then wandered toward the bedroom, hands still dripping from the dishwater. At the threshold, he stopped suddenly and turned to stare at Seth as though noticing him for the first time.
"You never did answer my question, Seth."
"What question?"
"Don't play GAMES with me. You almost DIED out there," Leo said, his voice sharp with suppressed emotion. "WHY did you come?"
"Didn't I tell you already?"
"WHY are you HERE?"
"I-I had to find out for myself... after your disappearance, people were saying that you'd... I thought that maybe you'd-" He stopped at Leo's tight-lipped expression.
"Thought I'd WHAT?" Leo snapped.
"That you... had... uh," Seth fumbled under Leo's searing
gaze. "...died, or some-something."
"Or something," Leo echoed softly. His jaws clenched, as he adjusted his robe with a savage yank, turning toward the direction of the front hall. He muttered angrily to himself while preparing to go outdoors.
"Have I offended you?" Seth asked in a small voice, watching Leo stomp into his sheepskin boots.
Leo stood still a second to eye Seth in suspicion. "If you have to ask, you have MUCH to learn... but you are still young and impetuous, only fifteen and not properly trained, of course. That explains it," he said at length, his voice calmer. "Now, I have work to do. When you have recovered, you will join me."
Seth stared at the door long after Leo had gone out, his mind buzzing like a wasps' nest. His ability to read people had always come easily to him, until now. Seth's attempt to read Leo was a fall into an abyss of confusion. It might have had something to do with the emotional aspects of a son finding his estranged father... and it might be other things, as well. It might be that Leo had the same abilities, that same intuition, but Seth didn't know for certain. It had only been a day or so since his arrival at Leo's hermitage- eyrie, was more like it- and he had plenty of leeway to figure it all out. He had all the time in the world.
Leo did not return the rest of the day, and there was little for Seth to do, because his feet were still too tender to do any real exploring. There was nothing to eat at the moment, though plenty of tea, so Seth drank his fill and then climbed into bed to rest and conserve his energy.
When Seth awoke, there was Leo, stirring the fire awake, and putting in a small pot to boil. His face was hidden behind the cowl again.
"Are you still mad at me?" Seth approached carefully, in favor of his sore feet.
"No," Leo said, handing Seth a bowl of snowy white, curdlike porridge.
Seth smelled it. "What do you call this?"
"Your daily meal. Meat twice a week, sometimes a little rice, sometimes bean curd. There's little else."
"One meal a day, huh?"
"It's all I can afford to feed you, there was just enough food for ONE to last the winter, not two."
"I can fast, I've done that plenty of times."
"Good."
"Sorry, I guess I should have brought more food."
Leo ignored him, as he slowly stirred the pot.
Seth watched him a moment, then ate. "How did you know where to find me," he asked when he finished.
"You had my katana," Leo said, continuing to stir.
Seth frowned a little. "I don't understand."
"You would if you owned them."
"Well I don't. I could only be their guardian, never their owner."
For some reason, Leo looked pleased, but he said nothing.
"Are you glad to have them with you again?" Seth asked cautiously.
"I am glad YOU had them, because they saved your life."
"Then you are glad I am here?"
Leo got up and began calmly clearing the dishes and things away.
"Why won't you answer me, Leo?"
"Why do you call me Leo?"
Seth shrugged. "I'm not sure what to call you yet. 'Father' doesn't exactly roll off my tongue. I could call you 'sir', if you want-"
"No, not that," Leo said quickly, putting the bowls into the tub.
"Why not?"
"No one has ever called me 'sir'."
"No one has ever called you 'father', either."
Leo set the kettle down with a little more force than usual, prompting Seth to not press the subject any further.

It wasn't long before Seth was able to follow Leo out into the raw weather, across the courtyard to the stable where Leo kept the goats. The warmth was welcome, but not the smell.
"Now you know why I keep them out here," Leo said, noticing Seth's expression.
The chores would have been easy if Leo had not been watching every move Seth made, constantly correcting him, making him do things over until he got it 'right'.
Maybe he's just testing me, Seth thought as he raked the goat's pen for the fifth time. He straightened up, feeling his upper back crackle as he flexed his shoulders.
"Missed a spot," Leo said from his perch in the hayloft.
"Where?" Seth's voice nearly cracked with frustration.
"You aren't turning the rake properly, and you are leaving bits behind. Rake it again."
Seth wiped a sleeve across his perspiring brow. "What for, the goats aren't going to care, and this is a total waste of energy-"
"Do it again," Leo said.
Seth set the rake against the wall, and folded his arms. "It's good enough for me."
"Not good enough for ME, do it again."
"What if I don't?"
"Then you don't eat, tonight."
Seth craned his neck to look up at Leo, who was half hidden in shadow. "You don't like me very much, do you?"
Leo leaped down beside Seth to look into his face. "Why do you say that?"
"Because you are treating me like GARBAGE, that's why."
The next thing Seth knew, he was face down in the pen, spitting out sawdust and bits of hay. He twisted around to look up at Leo, who stood passively looking down at him, one eyebrow lowered in surprise.
Seth got up slowly, rubbing the side of his face. "What did you do THAT for?"
"Why did you fall down?" Leo cocked his head at him.
"What do you mean- you HIT me!"
"Why did you let me?"
"If I'd seen it coming, I wouldn't have!"
Leo closed his eyes and then walked away from Seth, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Seth took a moment to brush the dirt off his front, and gather his thoughts, before following Leo down a long hallway.
"Where are you going?"
Leo stopped to look back at him. "Do you want to see some of my work?"
"Your work?"
"Are you interested?"
"Yes, I'm interested!"
Leo tossed his head at Seth for him to follow, and they came to a large workroom, with logs and pieces of wood scattered around. Some of the pieces had been roughly shaped with saw and axe, but a nearly finished piece about five feet in diameter and a foot thick, lay on a bench, cradled on rolls of felt. An assortment of knives, chisels, files and other carving tools were arranged in neat rows on a shelf above it.
"Whoa," Seth breathed, cautiously approaching the bench. He could see the wildly bulging eyes, the sinuous tongue lolling out of a gaping mouth lined with doglike teeth. Long serpentine tendrils of mane and beard coiled in stylized patterns around its oval shaped head, topped with fluted, horse's ears and a pair of sinister looking antlers. Claw tipped, human hands reached out from under the long flowing beard, grasping something that resembled snakes. "What kind of dragon is this?"
"Cheppu," Leo said, running his fingers lovingly along the smooth grain of the wood. "Guardian of the Wind. Do you like it?"
The wooden eyes of the carving held Seth's gaze. When he finally tore his attention away to look at Leo, he saw him watching. "Uh, it's- interesting."
Leo looked at something over Seth's head, before turning away to sort pieces of wood according to size.
"It scares me, Leo," Seth said softly. "In a vague sort of way."
"Like I do," Leo said to the wood.
"What makes you... yeah, like you do, sometimes."
Leo straightened slowly, as though he were suddenly tired. He continued to face away from Seth. "What did you expect to see, when you came here to see me?"
Seth thought for a moment, and sat down on a log stump. 'I expected to see the same person I loved and admired when I was five."
"Are you disappointed?"
"No."
Leo slowly turned to face Seth again. "Am I the same person you loved and admired when you were five?"
"Yes," Seth said, feeling his throat tighten from the upwelling of emotion. "Only you seem... broken."
Leo stared at Seth, eyes growing into something like those of the Cheppu. His jaw muscles bulged as he ground his teeth, and his breathing became shallow. Seth winced, anticipating another blow, but when nothing happened, he saw Leo had disappeared.
As time passed and Leo did not return, Seth bundled up to go back to the living quarters at the other end of the courtyard.
It took a long time for Seth to stop shivering as he sat close to the fire, wrapped in a wool blanket. He was hungry, but there was only tea, always left in the earthenware pot warming at the edge of the hearth.
Towards evening, Leo came back. He settled beside Seth in front of the hearth, eyes closed against the warmth of the fire. "What is that you are reading," he asked after a time.
"Bible." Seth held up the leather bound book. "Actually, this is the New Testament in an Interlinear Greek-English translation."
"Ah," Leo nodded. "It is good to read a religious writing in its original tongue."
"You ever read the Bible?"
"Yes, of course."
"I mean, did you really read it, or just kind of peruse through it like a magazine?"
Leo's brows knitted a little, as he looked Seth over. "I read with great conviction, Seth. Not just the Bible, but others... the Torah, the Koran, the Baghavad-Gita, the works of the philosophers, Plato, Aristotle, Socrates... Khalil Gibran, Lao-Tzu, Confucious, Karl Marx, Nietsche, Freud... even the musings of Hitler's 'Mein Kampf'."
"Why," Seth asked.
"Why not?"
"But... what was your main motive?"
Leo gazed at him, the corners of his mouth curling up a little in a vague smile. "I was trying to understand the workings of the human mind. Why do you read that Bible?"
"Because..." Seth looked down at the leather bound book in his lap. "I believe it to be the very words of God."
Leo seemed to suppress a smile, one hand playing across his upper lip. "DO you?"
"Yes. I am Christian."
Leo poured himself tea from the pot, and lightly held the bowl as he took a careful sip. He set it down without a sound, and stared at it, as though he were expecting it to do something pleasant.
Seth decided to go on. "About a year ago, I was baptized- immersed- and became a member of the Lord's church."
"Which one?"
"There is only one."
Leo laughed a little. "Surely you are not so naiive as to believe there is only one? There are thousands that claim to be Christian, alone."
"That may be, but the Lord's church is a spiritual one, not something that can be held in a building. It lives in the hearts of those who believe."
"I see. And did the Bible teach you this?"
"Sure, it teaches me everything I need to know for my spiritual well being, and of our relationship with God."
"Our?"
"Us Christians."
"Did you learn all this from the Bible itself, or from an interpretation by some man behind a pulpit?"
"He reads directly from the Bible. That's all we have, to go by."
Leo leaned toward him a little, eyes on Seth's. "Who wrote the Bible, Seth? God himself?"
"God... through men."
"Then it's written by humans. Another human teaching. Another religeon."
Seth sighed. "All too many people believe that. But the Apostle Paul said in the book of Galatians, that the gospel he preached was not something that man made up, but that he received it by revelation from the Lord Jesus Christ."
"And Jesus Christ was a human, was he not?"
"He is the The Anointed One, the only begotten Son of God."
Seth expected Leo to continue in an escalating discussion like he had had with Mike, and again with Don, but Leo gave Seth a faint smile, and sipped his tea. "If you say so, Seth. Believe what you will believe."
"I'm not the one saying it, Leo. The Bible says it."
"All right," Leo said with a gentleness that Seth found annoying. "The Bible says it, you believe it, that settles it." He dismissed the cliché with a little shrug.
"No, it doesn't," Seth said suddenly. "That doesn't settle it. It is not enough that only I believe it, but as many people as possible should believe it. In Acts 17:30, it says that in the past, God overlooked such ignorance, but now he commands ALL people everywhere to repent."
"Repent? From what? A lifetime burden of sin? And you are here to relieve me of this burden? Is this the true nature of your visit?" Leo seemed unruffled by Seth's outburst.
"It wasn't planned that way, but I hope it will be," Seth said. "Perhaps you will see God for what He truly is."
Leo snorted softly. "And what is that? If you say the Bible is the Word of God, then why does he tell me of impossible rules and regulations, of demons, whores, slavery, burning cities, graphic tales of violence, sacrifices, the murder of innocent children, and the despair and intense suffering and bloodshed of those he supposedly loves?"
"Maybe because... that is all you can see. The Bible is a mirror of one's heart," Seth said steadily.
"IS it?" Leo stared intently into the fire, until his eyes gradually closed, and he relaxed into his usual mode of studied serenity.
Seth let out his breath, and closed his Bible. He wasn't going to press his luck any farther, not after the incident in the goat pen. He got up and went to bed.

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