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The Kahanne
Part 2
The Kahanne’s party stopped at the foot of the steps leading up to the central cathedral, which was the primary shrine for all the Spiritual sects. The entrance consisted of two huge wooden doors that towered over the dignitaries assembled before it. The rest of the building was grandiose and architecturally complex, at least by Hansic standards. To anyone else it would have simply been an outdated, albeit respectable, temple. Its massive brass dome was colored lime green in many places from exposure to the elements. The dome towered over the square, casting much of it in shadow. Like the rest of the buildings in this city, not to mention much of the Hanse, it was designed less for aesthetic pleasure and more for functionality. The only major renovations consisted of repairs to the existing structure. It was never expanded to support the burgeoning population nor updated to suit changing tastes.
Forty-eight steps led up to the entrance, four for each Spirit. From her vantage point on top of the chariot, Arlyne saw that they sported carvings of images that were commonly associated with the divinities. She made out a closed fist for Samlah, wildlife for Rasqu’il, and others. They were designed so that each step comprised one piece of an image. Thus, a viewer looking down at the steps from high up would see twelve large, complete icons leading into the cathedral. A stage with a podium and twelve lit braziers had been erected midway to the top so that Arlyne could easily be viewed by anyone standing within the small square that spread out from the temple. The square was filled with more than fifteen thousand pilgrims with the rest still crammed into the main street. To ensure that everyone would hear the Kahanne’s homily, stands were erected intermittently throughout the square and along the winding length of the road. As Arlyne ascended the stairs with the High Clerics in tow, acolytes climbed on top of each stand to act as speakers for the Kahanne. It was their duty to hear what was spoken from the podium and shout it to the next speaker along the line so that the people in between would hear. Due to the city’s cramped design, this was the only way to convey these messages to such a large audience since no one wanted to tear down buildings to open up the square.
Chancellor Yarena Hanser, her husband, Lawrence, and the five district governors and their spouses waited patiently on top of the stage. They were decked out in their full dress uniforms — black tunics and breeches with gold baldrics strapped from left shoulder to right hip. In addition, the governors bore their district crests over their hearts while the chancellor displayed emblems with the national standard imprinted upon them. They all sported medals from their militia service, though Governor Lessander had the most impressive collection. They waited stiffly at attention.
When Arlyne reached their level, Chancellor Yarena Hanser approached her. The chancellor was pale and plain looking, though her expression conveyed the requisite sternness of a Commonwealth leader. The tight outfit betrayed her wiry frame. Since no-one was permitted to approach the Holy Person without consent, she stopped two paces from the Kahanne. Arlyne nodded slightly and beckoned. The chancellor stepped forward, clasped her hands together and bowed her head. When this happened, silence quickly rippled to the back of the crowd so that those who were honored to be standing at the front could actually hear what was being said in hushed tones a dozen meters above them.
“Greetings, Holy One,” stated Chancellor Hanser. Her tone, which was normally cool and sharp, expressed a more somber note. She had spent the last few months brushing up on her Ghaultic, which she hadn’t spoken since her university days. Although it came back to her quickly during the practice sessions with her tutor, she now felt herself stumbling over the words.
“You may face me,” answered Arlyne. Her voice was light and commanding, and her tone reflected Chancellor Hanser’s.
The head of state lifted her face to look directly at Arlyne. The chancellor swallowed hard in a dry mouth before speaking. “Holy One, I am Chancellor Yarena Hanser, most humble servant of the Forum.” The chancellor gestured to the bureaucrats behind her, who bowed their heads as their names were called out. “May I introduce my husband, Lawrence. Next to him are William Lessander, governor of the Great Sea District; Reginald Clayburgh, governor of the Alpas District; Irene Hanasser, governor of the Khadashite District; Henry Marchand, governor of the Central Highlands District; and Mina Barranov, governor of the Great Lakes District. On behalf of our people, we welcome the Forum’s representative on Halcyon.”
The Kahanne smiled slightly. “Your words honor me. I will address the masses now.”
Chancellor Hanser stood aside, and with a regal air, Arlyne strode past her and up to the podium. She scanned the crowd. So many people, and not a whisper heard from them! She visited this country all too rarely. Staying mired in the past had its advantages — for one, they never forgot how to treat dignitaries. Arlyne closed her eyes and muttered a silent prayer to the Forum before starting. Every ounce of concentration she had was being devoted to her next words. When she spoke, her voice was clear and resounding. She began with the recitation of the Harbinger, a code which was uttered by the Spirits themselves at the beginning of the Golden Age and which laid out the future history of Halcyon.
“This, it has been given to know: that the realm of Halcyon shall pass through seven ages in its time. Three shall be times of Order, and three shall be times of Chaos, in which land will be laid waste.
“Let it now be known that upon the third coming of Chaos, the bones shall be tossed in a contest of wills to see which shall emerge dominant in the struggle between Order and Chaos and that the victor shall determine the fate of all that is to proceed.
“Everything past, present, and future shall meet at that appointed time to act as witness. Two will enter; one will survive. And the One shall rule them all.”
Arlyne paused until the echo of her speakers’ voices faded. As well as repeating her words, the speakers were translating the Harbinger into Hansic so that everyone could understand. She continued. “Have we not seen Chaos’ visit and revisit? A thousand years ago, our people lived harmoniously, at peace with each other and their environment. That was our Golden Age, a time when science, philosophy and culture flourished.” Another pause, and the faint sound of her speakers’ voices could be heard. Chancellor Hanser raised her eyebrows slightly and looked at her husband, impressed with the new Kahanne. She had spoken in perfect Hansic with only the slightest hint of an accent.
“Then the forces of Chaos came to scatter us across Halcyon, but we survived. We persevered, though the Assault on Technology ensured that the achievements of the Golden Age were forever lost to us. We turned this Age of Ruin into a benefit and established ourselves throughout the continent. Then, during the Age of Disquiet, we expanded our civilization to the farthest reaches of this continent. Although distrust and fear were pervasive, Chaos was not content. As was foretold by the Harbinger, the Great War came upon us. At this time, the forces of Order would have been destroyed had it not been for the sacrifice of the Elders, whose powers not only drove Chaos from our world, but also brought us the Second Harbinger:
“‘When it shall come to pass that the Triad of Chaos becomes complete, let it be known that the Savior shall come unto the midst of the darkness, and this one shall wield the Orb.
“‘Then shall the appointed time come into being, and then shall all creation stand as witness to the final confrontation between the Savior of Order and the Champion of Chaos. Then, the fate of what has been and what will come shall be made clear, and the One shall rule them all.’”
Another pause. “We are now into the two hundred and ninety-fifth year of the Age of Redemption. We must be wary, for Chaos will return a third time, and I fear that the fated Meeting between our Savior and its Champion draws near. A trial lies ahead, a trial of faith and a test of courage. It may not arrive today or tomorrow, perhaps not even in this generation, but it will come. And we will be ready. We have driven off Chaos twice before and we will do so again, for such is our destiny, even if the Harbinger itself will not reveal the final victor. We therefore pray for ourselves, for our children and for their children, that in their Games the Spirits find favor in us, and let us say, ‘Amen.’”
The crowd repeated “Amen”. The word slowly rolled back along the main street as successive speakers finished repeating the Kahanne’s words. A hushed echo continued to recede in volume for several minutes.
Arlyne paused again and decided to change the tempo. She wanted to end the opening homily on a high note rather than leave them with a sense of foreboding. “It is a great honor to be welcomed to the Hansic Alliance. You are Halcyon’s conscience, the instinct that tells us that we cannot know who we are or explore who we might be unless we know who we were. Culture and tradition are unique possessions because present generations are the custodians of a legacy that does not belong to them, but to succeeding generations. We pass on what we have to our descendants trusting not that they will use it and exhaust it, but preserve it for their own children, who will in turn preserve it for theirs. Culture and tradition are antique commodities, for unlike money or titles, they are not meant to be spent, but constantly safeguarded. It is a curious irony that such sentiments are uttered here, in the capital of an economic alliance that values freedom of commerce above all else. Yet, you understand that there are commodities in this world that cannot be traded and with which one cannot negotiate. This is the lesson the Hanse has taught us. This is what you bequeath to your world.”
While the speakers finished repeating her words, Arlyne motioned to several attendants. They held up bowls filled with various kinds of incense for each of the twelve braziers. She stepped from one brazier to the next and sprinkled a pinch of each powder into its corresponding flame. A potpourri of odors wafted through the air from the stage, a noxious mixture of smells and scents that forced the hosts to cough lightly. Arlyne returned to the podium and began singing a lighthearted hymn: Forum’s Praise. It was traditional to begin such festivities with this piece. After a few seconds, the entire mass of people had chimed in.
Hail the Games of the Forum,
Offer the Spirits’ oblation.
Sing to the honor of those who believe
Pray for the favor of Fortune.
Sing to L’Xar from birth unto death —
Praise for the one who is Life.
Sing to Elren, whose Wisdom prevails
O’er senselessness, folly and strife.
Hail Teyull the Protector,
Who heals the sickly and frail.
Hail the Courage of Samlah,
Betrayer of Chaos’ veil.
Sing to Yarmah, who commands the great Seas,
Who heeds the mariner’s call.
Sing for the cradle of Nature —
Rasqu’il, sustainer of all.
Hail the Earth of Avari,
Riches beyond mortal ken.
Hail the one dubbed Wayfarer:
Qedem, who guides mortal men.
Sing to the tempests of Rukh,
Whose Cycles are history’s pawn.
Sing to Shakar, Guardian of Souls
Lord of the world beyond.
Hail the Creatures of Arya,
They respond to the hunter’s great shout.
Hail the Spirit whose name is Unknown
Judge of all Games throughout.
Bend knee to the Forum! We pray on this day
To Fortune, all give a great cry!
Praise for the One, the One who is King,
Who reigns o’er all from on high.
With this hymn, Arlyne Corbonne began her first Communion in the Hansic Alliance as Kahanne of Assize.
Stay tuned for the next chapter…
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