Intermission 1
I want to say up front that I am not your usual narrator. After this paragraph, I do not intend to speak to you directly like they do. The reason for carving out this space away from their omniscient vision will become apparent in time. For now, I will tell you of the past.
Over ten years prior to Naomi setting out on her journey, she was brought to Tamin by Lacrima. Where Naomi had come from was something that Lacrima either would not or could not say—she was vague about which it was. If Lacrima had only brought Naomi to live in Tamin, she might have been readily accepted, but Lacrima had an audacious demand: Naomi was to be the next protector of the village.
“You truly think a child whose origins you refuse to tell us will make a better protector than someone from the village?” Portia asked. “Why?”
Lacrima was standing before the Tamin council table and, though their eyes were closed, they gave the impression of staring them all down. “My vision says Naomi must be the protector,” they said. “And my vision is never wrong.”
Hector laughed bitterly. “Are we really going to follow the direction of a fortune teller? The protector of Tamin should be someone from the village.”
“Need I remind you,” Bogart rumbled from his seat next to Hector, “that I am not of this village. Would you challenge me for my position?”
“No offense intended, of course,” Hector said with mock obsequiousness. “Your reputation had preceded you. But a stray with no parentage and nothing to recommend her? I already have a strapping child who would be well-suited to the role.”
“I have recommended her,” Lacrima said. “And if you think my powers as a seer are mere parlor tricks, perhaps I should peer into your future and bring about the most unfavorable outcome.” Hector opened his mouth to respond, but Portia banged her gavel on the table before he could say anything.
“This is too important of a discussion to be dragged down into bickering,” she said. “With all respect to Bogart, you are reaching an age where you must be thinking of a successor. I do think that both Lacrima and Hector raise points worth considering, however they might express them. And as the one who will have the apprentice, it seems only right that you have the final say.”
Bogart rubbed his head and took a moment to think. “Truth be told, I am not sure I want to teach the art of war to anyone. However, I know I have a responsibility to this village, and I can’t protect it forever. I will have to meet any potential apprentice before making a decision.”
Portia nodded. “A prudent thing to do. Then we will adjourn for now. Bogart, let me know what you decide, and we will reconvene if necessary.” She banged the gavel once again and everyone shuffled to the exit.
Bogart stood outside for a moment looking at the village. The responsibility of protecting Tamin was one he was comfortable with, but the responsibility of imparting the skills and knowledge necessary to replace him felt daunting. He was startled from his thoughts by Lacrima, who was suddenly at his side. “Walk with me a moment,” they said. Bogart offered an arm and the two of them started strolling.
“There is something else about my vision you should know,” Lacrima said in a low voice. “The Glaive of Hope is going to be stolen.”
Bogart went rigid at the mention of the Glaive of Hope and glanced around. No one was nearby, but he leaned down towards Lacrima and kept his voice as quiet as he could anyway. “And how is that connected to the child you brought?”
“She will retrieve it. And not only that, but she will also use it. It’s not unreasonable to say that Naomi will change the world someday. That is what I have seen. And you are in a unique position to influence her to change the world for the better.”
Bogart stared at Lacrima, unsure of how to respond. They had predicted many things with uncanny accuracy in the time Bogart had known them, but nothing of this magnitude. “That is a lot of responsibility to place upon a person so suddenly,” he finally said.
“It is fate,” Lacrima replied. “I am merely the messenger.”
“I wonder. I noticed you told Hector you would bring about unfavorable outcomes for him. Words can have a powerful effect on fate, can’t they?”
Lacrima chuckled softly. “That is true, my words can have a profound effect on how people behave. And fate is not immutable; sometimes I must nudge people and events to align with my visions. But this is nothing unexpected, and I know you are not really interested in a detailed philosophical discussion on the ethics of a seer’s actions.”
Bogart shrugged. “I am interested in how I’m being nudged, as you say.”
“Nothing malevolent,” Lacrima said. “You just have to raise her, and when the Glaive of Hope is found missing, you must be willing to let her go.”
Bogart rubbed his head. “You make it sound like I should act as the girl’s father.”
“And why not? You’ll have the rest of the village to make up for your shortcomings. You can look at me like that if you want, but you know I’m right. Now, I think the time has come for you to meet Naomi.” Lacrima indicated a knoll ahead of them. A small child sat slumped there—Naomi, Bogart assumed—with her back to them, watching something on the other side of the knoll. Lacrima nudged Bogart forward, and he walked up awkwardly.
“Hello there,” he said to Naomi as warmly as he could. She made no motion to respond, and he sat down next to her. “My name is Bogart. I protect the village of Tamin. I will be your teacher if you’d like.”
Naomi continued to stare straight ahead, and Bogart turned to see what she was looking at. Down the gentle slope several children were playing. One group of them stacked boxes, rocks, and other things up, while a second group huddled together and watched, whispering to each other. When the first group was done, they scattered while the second group rushed forward and knocked everything over. Bogart recognized it as Creator and Destroyer, a simple game that was popular with children in the region.
“Would you like to join them?” he asked Naomi. She huddled into herself more and glanced over at him. “Come on, it will be okay.” He rose and after a moment she did too, and together they walked towards the playing children, who were just finishing a round of stacking.
“Hello, children,” Bogart said. They stared at him with their usual mixture of awe, admiration, and fear. “This is Naomi. Would you mind letting her play with you all?”
The children weren’t used to a request like this from Bogart and looked at each other in confusion. Somehow, without saying anything, they seemed to reach a consensus that they should obey Bogart and a few of them nodded. “Do you want to be a Creator or a Destroyer?” one of them asked.
Naomi looked up at Bogart for a moment then walked forward in front of the stacks. She spread her arms wide and declared: “I am a Protector! If you want to destroy this town, you have to get past me.”