Seth

Part 4: Valley

Seth climbed the last outcrop of rock, and paused to wipe the damp strands of hair out of his eyes. The relentless sun beat down on his bare skin, with such intensity as to be painful, even for a sun lover like him. But he smiled, because he had reached the top. Nowhere to go but down now, he thought, as he blinked the sweat out of his eyes and looked. But the view filled him with disappointment. There was no river, or line of green trees, just more desert, and rocks, and another mountain range, which, the longer he stared at it, the taller and steeper it became.
"Where is the Ganges Plain?" The wind carried his voice away so that the eagles circling overhead did not even notice him.
He looked down, and saw the valley far below him, a river no bigger than a silver thread, meandering under a filmy shroud of mist.
"There it is... there's the river!" He quickly adjusted the shoulder straps of his pack, started down the slope.
"It is a long way down. Have you counted the cost," A gentle voice asked behind him. He looked to see a white robed figure standing on the ledge above him, where Seth had been moments before.
"I have," Seth said, shielding his eyes with one hand. The sun was behind the figure, obscuring any detail. "Leo, are you going to follow me all the way?"
"I will always be with you, even unto the end of the age," the figure softly replied.
"What age," Seth said half to himself, feeling confused. He tried to get another look at the figure, but the sun was causing black spots to dance across his vision.
"Do you love me?" The voice sounded closer, but Seth could not get a fix on its origin. It sounded like it was coming from inside his own head.
"Yes, I love you, surely you know that," he said aloud.
"Go then, teach what you have been taught, let nothing stop you. Your faith knows no boundaries, be afraid of nothing, for I will always be with you."
Seth turned and stared at the path below him. It looked steep, but the way was clear. "All right," he said, and he resumed his descent. As his feet clutched at the rocky surface, his mind wheeled and spiraled like the soaring raptors high above him. The nagging feeling that he had forgotten something, grew until he stopped to sit on a boulder and stare up the path. It was too bright to see, from the angle of the sun. He was thirsty, but his canteen was empty. Maybe that's what it was he had forgotten. Water. Nothing to do now but keep going, at least the river was ahead, and the sooner he reached it, the sooner he could quench his thirst...
He had been descending for what seemed like an eternity, but the river seemed no closer than before. Something was wrong. Was he on the wrong path? Had he missed a fork somewhere? He was hot, and sticky, and his legs were tiring. He sat on a boulder and rested a few minutes.
"Where is the river," he asked aloud.
No one answered him, so he heaved himself onto his feet again, and continued to tread somewhat unsteadily down the trail. As he went on, he could hear the gurgle of water over rocks, and his mouth tingled with anticipation. Can't be far... he reached a small glade, and ran along the leveled path, now smelling wet moss and stones, and seeing the glint of sunlit water. Flinging aside his cumbersome pack, he made ready to throw himself off the river bank, and let the cool water envelop him.
His headlong rush ground to halt at the end of the path, narrowly missing a collision with a solid looking, wooden gate. In the center of the gate was a white sign, its black letters neatly painted in many languages:
"DO NOT ENTER ALONE."
Seth frantically looked around, but could not find another way in. There was no break in the high wooden fence, the latch on the gate would not budge, no matter how hard Seth pulled on it. "What do you mean, 'Don't enter alone'? Why do I need to bring anyone with me? What IS this?"
He turned and slumped against the warm, smooth surface of the unyielding gate, and fought the urge to burst into frustrated tears. The realization quieted him. He had to bring someone here, he couldn't just bring himself, that was it! But wait, where was Leo?
"Leo? Are you here? You said... you said you'd always be with me. Where are you when I need you?"
"I am here," Seth heard the voice a little way off, sounding as though he were coming from the trees.
"I need you," Seth said, desperately looking for a visible sign of his father. "Where ARE you?"
"I'm here, Seth," Leo's voice replied.
A movement in the tail of Seth's eye caused him to turn and see the gate opening, revealing a grassy path that clearly led to the crystalline waters of the beckoning river. He laughed a little, in joy and disbelief, and turned to wave impatiently for Leo to follow. "Hurry! The gate's open, let's go!"
Leo's firm grip on his arm held Seth back. "Wait," he said.
"No! There's no time to waste, we have to go through, now!" Seth struggled frantically to free himself, but Leo held his ground.
"Wait, you must wait, Seth."
"Oh, NO-" Seth gritted his teeth as the gate swung and latched shut. He turned to glare at Leo, but saw the face of a man, instead. He was a nondescript shade of brown, not asian, not caucasian, but seemed to be a mixture of both. His hair was gray, but his face was ageless. "Who- who are you," Seth asked in surprise.
The man smiled. "Don't you know me, Seth?"
"How did you... Wait, you preached at the church service, didn't you?"
"Yes, and you were visiting. Do you remember the sermon?"
"Yes, but, I wasn't just visiting, I was baptized that day."
The man laughed, his white, even teeth showing through his wispy, grey moustache. "Good, good! Then you must come back to us, soon. We miss you."
Seth's throat tightened at the tone of the man's voice. "Yeah, I miss you, too." He wasn't really sure who he was, but felt as though he'd known him... all his life...
Someone touched Seth's arm, and he turned to see he was now in a dark room, with the familiar smells, an orange glow and the crackle of a fire nearby.
"Wake up, Seth." Leo's impassive face came into view. "Time to get up and clean the goat pen."
Seth sat up, groggily looking around, as Leo turned his attention back to the hearth. "So it was a dream," he muttered, his voice still gravelly with sleep.
"Yes," Leo said, thrusting a log into place. "You talked for a long time, about rivers and, what was it, church service? Interesting." He wiped the fragments of bark off his hands as he smiled at Seth. "And it sounded like you wanted me to go with you somewhere."
"I do," Seth said without thinking. "I mean, I dreamed that I- that I wanted-"
"Who were you talking to, about preaching?"
Seth described him, and Leo stood still a moment, looking very thoughtful. Then he looked stricken, and shook himself.
"What is it?"
Leo gestured at him to dress for outside. "Nothing, at the moment. Tell me about this while we work... before you forget. I want to hear more."

"What do you value most in this world, Leo?" Seth asked after he told Leo of his dream and they now sat, quietly digesting their meal.
"You, " Leo said, without hesitation. "And you?"
"Serving God," Seth said just as easily, but he could see Leo was not taking it in.
"Let us try again, Seth. Be completely honest, don't just pay lip service to your religion."
"I AM being completely honest," Seth almost retorted, then sighed. "Look, just because you were paying lip service to Master Splinter all these years doesn't mean others can't be dedicated from the heart." He stopped when he saw Leo's expression.
"Choose your words carefully, Seth. You may be my son, but you are not exempt from paying the consequences of your gross lack of discretion."
"What is that supposed to mean," Seth heard himself say.
Leo leaped up suddenly, making Seth flinch. "I don't know what method your mother used to raise you, but I am beginning to find your attitude increasingly tedious." He spat the last word, and turned to pace the length of the small room.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," Seth returned, standing up to feel less vulnerable. "But I don't know how you can demand perfection when you are so far from it yourself."
Leo turned to face him squarely. "Are you not afraid of me, Seth?"
Seth said nothing, but tried to match his gaze.
Leo smiled a little, and nodded slowly. "A fool has no fear, because of ignorance, but a warrior uses his fears to advantage, so they do not paralyze him."
"The Lord is my fortress, of whom shall I be afraid?"
"Quoting Psalms is not going to protect you from the enemy, Seth!" Leo snapped. He took a stride forward, causing Seth to back up, until he reached the opposite wall. "Reading THIS..." Leo snatched up Seth's Bible, and gestured with it. "... is not going to keep you from getting your throat cut in your sleep, IS it?" Leo slung the Bible hard into the fireplace.
"Don't!" Seth scrambled to retrieve it, but could only watch helplessly as the book fluttered like a frightened bird in the heat of the fire and quickly shrivelled and curled into a burst of flame.
Leo's eyes were bright from the glow of the fire, and a new energy seemed to permeate his entire body, as he watched the book turn into a mass of ash. "Now," he said in feigned calmness. "It is time you were properly educated."
"What are you talking about," Seth asked, seething at the loss of his book.
"It's your heritage," Leo said evenly. "You were born for this moment."
"I was NOT," Seth shot back. "And I'm not going to have ANY part of these- these DEMONIC teachings of yours!"
"Are you calling Master Splinter's teachings... demonic?"
"Maybe."

It was all very odd, Seth realized later, how his perception picked up that subtle shift of energy in the room, causing his eyes to suddenly focus on Leo's, and whatever it was that Don and Mike had so patiently tried to explain to him during practice came so clearly to him now. He had actually managed to duck Leo's first punch, and deflected the other blows enough to save him from a more painful beating. Suddenly he was no longer angry at Leo, who acted as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, but had calmly gone off to his workshop, leaving a very diffused Seth to wash the dishes and sweep up the hearth. It was all so very, very odd.
When Leo had recovered enough from his "spell", as Seth decided to call them in private, he came back and sat quietly by the fire, watching the flames with that peculiar, detached expression that followed his outbursts.
"There's no point, anyway, Seth... the clan is dead," he finally said.
Seth looked up from his Greek-English, which was all he had left for reading. He waited, not daring to say anything, as he still smarted from his morning's "lesson".
"The clan... was, only when Splinter was alive. Now that he is gone, the clan is no more. There's no point in teaching you any of it."
Seth sat very still and watched his father closely, feeling the change in him. It was a different sort of feeling, as subtle as the shift in a breeze.
"It's been said," Leo went on, "That once the head dies, the body may twitch for some time, but I have never found that to be true. I find it true, only when the head is in the process of dying. That's all we were in the last years of our Master's life, a body that was in its death throes."
Seth felt the little spines on the back of his neck rise, like the way he felt after watching a horror movie. He glanced around at the shadows, and then at Leo, who no longer seemed to be proper company, but rather the kind one would avoid in a hurry. He found himself quoting Psalm 23 aloud, which he used when he was feeling particularly frightened.
"...Yea, and as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear nothing, for Thou art with me, O God, Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me..." The rest went unsaid when he caught sight of Leo listening and looking intently at him. "What...what is it?"
"Are you not afraid of death?" Leo's voice was so soft, it was like a cold feather drawn up Seth's spine.
He swallowed to regain his voice. "I would avoid it at all costs, but if there was no escape, then I would embrace it. Only... I don't know how much I will fear death until it comes upon me."
Leo's eyes looked unblinkingly into his for so long, Seth saw spots dancing in the corners of his vision. "Well said," he murmered at length. He leaped up and gesturing for Seth to follow, walked on light feet toward the room reserved for Leo's practice, and picked the sheathed katana off of their places on the wall, one in each hand.
Seth wasn't sure if that was the proper way to carry them or not. He thought he knew enough about Japanese customs, until he observed Leo, who, contrary to what he expected, really did not behave all that Japanese, at times.
"You recognize these," Leo said, not as a question, but a statement.
Seth nodded, and then hesitated as Leo held out the sword in his left hand. "Take it."
"I-I can't do that-"
"By all the gods, boy! Hold it, will you? I'm not giving it to you," Leo said, his voice sharpened by sudden impatience. "I want you to HOLD it."
Seth put his hands out, and the sheath landed in his palms with a force that made them sting a little. He clenched it tightly. Again, he felt its power, like when he had first picked up the swords to take them on their long journey. He had found himself speaking to them at times, during his trek, reassuring them that he would soon reunite them with their master. "Help me," he had said. "You know where he is, guide me..." He felt odd later, because he had spoken to them as though they were living things, as though they had more power than God. What a fool I am, he had thought. But now that he held the sword once again, feeling the exquisite balance, he sensed that very same, vaguely disturbing excitement coursing through his veins. Weapons of such lethal power, he had not dared to unsheath them, fearing they may injure him on their own...
Leo was studying him, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity stealing past his impassive expression. He reached for Seth's hands, and positioned them, one on the hilt, the other on the sheath. When he was satisfied, he took a step back, and inclined his head at Seth. "Bare the blade."
"But-" Seth's protest was silenced at Leo's narrow look.
"Why do you insist on being so disobedient? Take it OUT!"
Seth did so, and his eyes grew rounder with every centimeter of the exposed blade. It gleamed like a mirror, reflecting his astonished, pale eye, as though the sword itself were waking from a deep sleep, and was now blinking in amazement at this new face. The close set, almost invisible layers of metal gradiated to the edge, so sharp it seemed to fade into the space around it.
"Breathe," he heard Leo from a thousand miles away.
"Wh-what?"
"Breathe. You don't want to pass out and fall on it, do you?"
"N-no!"
"Then breathe."
Seth breathed, in the way he had been taught since early childhood, the kind that helped him center himself, helped him focus. He slowly relaxed, and his nervousness of the blade faded, as he let its energy fill him.
"Now, we will begin. First," Leo said. Seth looked up to see Leo had unsheathed his sword, both hands on its long hilt, knuckles lined up with the blade's edge.
Seth imitated him. He watched every move Leo made in the first kata, but somehow couldn't match it. He felt stupid and clumsy, in comparison.
"Practice," Leo said, finally lowering his blade to one side.
"For how long?"
"For as long as it takes," Leo said with surprising calmness. "For the moment when your arm turns to lead, and your mind tells you, 'Again!' There were times when I would practice from dark to dark, until I was satisfied, and I could no longer feel the pain."
Seth continued through the kata, and after a while, Leo stopped him. "That's enough. There will be time enough for that, later. You must learn when to continue, and when to stop, it's the balance that is not always easy to find."
"I don't get it. First you say to go on 'till it hurts, then you tell me stop?"
"That is NOT what I said! Dammit, Seth, when are you going to start LISTENING to me?"
"When you stop swearing at me," Seth heard himself say, fingering the leather wrap on the sword hilt.
Leo's face became as still as ice, and he stared at the space over Seth's head, as though summoning strength from it. His jaws clenched in that familiar expression of suppressed rage, and Seth found himself watching Leo's sword hand with a cautious eye.
Leo let his breath out in a sharp hiss, and held out his katana, blade down, for Seth to hold. When Seth did so, Leo immediately untied and shrugged off his heavy white robe, and laid it on a hook in the wall.
In the diffused light of the lamp, Seth could see the clear definition of muscle and sinew in his father's limbs, honed and perfected by long years of rigorous training. The image of the lowly monk was replaced by that of a veteran warrior.
Leo was gesturing impatiently at Seth.
"What," Seth asked, coming out of his reverie.
"Katana." Leo pointed at them in Seth's hands.
"Could I have them back... please?"
"Oh! Sorry." Seth sheepishly handed the swords over. "What are you going to do?"
"Practice," Leo said, eyeing him, then he moved slowly to the center of the room. "You may observe, if you wish."
"Sure I do."
"Then sit by the wall, do not lean against it, keep your head level, eyes open, keep silence, and perhaps you will learn something." He walked to the center of the room, and flexed his shoulders a little. He gave Seth a look bordering on arrogance, and knelt with his back to him. He sat quietly for a time, his sides moving slowly with his breathing, then smoothly picked up the swords as he stood.
Leo moved through the simplest katas to the most complex, as Seth watched, holding his breath in concentration to try and catch the shifts in grip on the swords, the position of the feet, and where Leo placed the center of gravity on his body. The movements were clean, simple, sometimes slow, sometimes lightning fast, changing tempo in a complex rhythm that lulled Seth into a peaceful, yet vigilant state, as his subconscious mind picked up on the structure of the art. He found himself breathing along with Leo, and watched the swords as though they were leading their owner in their own timeless choreography. Seth knew that mastering the art of using two swords was very difficult, and Leo made it look astonishingly easy.
Then Leo leaned a bit too far, swords drooping. Head lowered, he stumbled, then regained his balance. Seth could see his eyes were shut tight, lips pulled back a little in a grimace.
Seth waited, but he knew this was not part of practice. Leo knelt to sit on his feet again, chin against his chest. His ribs heaved in a sob, as he let go of the swords and they rattled to rest on the bare floor. Seth stayed still, barely able to breathe, as he watched his father weep.

Seth05
Seth's Page