Water is simple, but not easy. We call
it forth into basins sunk beneath some of the Towers. They are cool
places, dark and calm. It feels right to be here, away from others,
doing something simple but so necessary.
The primary note for water is at the
center of the scale. It must be held closely for the water to be
pure. A higher note behind it creates pressure. A lower note
beneath holds it steady, keeps it cold and tasting sweet. Water
wants no modulation, no change in the chord, no singing, just
duration and endurance.
It is good to do something simple,
basic. Something without demand, something which requires no
thought, no feeling, nothing of Mahd. Just water, flowing, filling
the basin, a job never finished, a task never complete, never
started, never ended. Doing, alone, in the dark, something forever,
without bells, without words, without names.
I am there for a sweet, empty time,
forgetting what I no longer am not. It frees me, more than my time
in the Tower of Silence, lets me rest inside the song, lets me find
something that I can still be.
Of course, I am interrupted before I am
finished. A Singer I do not know, bowed slightly, as if afraid of
me. When I turn, this new Singer takes half a step back and bows
further, not even aware of the motion.
“Singer Mahd,” a voice even more
hesitant than the posture. “Your presence is requested at the
First Stone.” With that, the Singer is gone, message delivered.
The First Stone. Not an idle request,
then. I guess I won't be calling more water today.
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