Simple Things: Quiescence
Author: Korsavius
Original post: https://backstage.eve-inspiracy.com/index.php?topic=7546.msg122784#msg122784
Entry for the YC120 Pod and Planet Fiction Contest in the Eight Thousand Suns in New Eden category and the Very Short Fiction subcategory.
Echoes of the heavenly symphony of music and choir humming reverberated throughout the chapel. An ethereal God ray pierced through stained glass windows, and enveloped the worshippers in their God’s tender embrace. The windows were for show, naturally, and the sunlight peeking in was artifical, of course - necessities aboard stations anchored across the cluster. The Amarr perfected the hologram technique for such an effect many generations ago. They say you can’t tell the hologram from the real thing, and Ardashir certainly couldn’t tell the difference.
He and the other soldiers were celebrating their God in unison. One unit, one people, one mind. United by divinity and purpose. It was a terrific display of brotherhood and fellowship.
The sounds of scripture, singing, and music were all welcomed to the weary ears of Ardashir. They were a stark contrast to the sounds of the battlefields he often inhabited - shrieks of pain and terror, commanders barking out orders, explosions, and gunfire. He savored the sounds as if they were sweet honey oozing through his head. For over an hour they remained in holy harmony.
The unit was allowed some free time following the conclusion of worship. Ardashir declined an offer from his friends to the local commons for some grub. He wasn’t hungry. At least, not physically. Ardashir toured the gardens of the chapel. He did so many times after worship. But this time felt different. Perhaps he stumbled across what he sought after.
The biodome surrounding the chapel was set to mimic a warm summer afternoon. The chapel gardens were alive and well. Vibrant flowers of all hues voraciously devoured the artificial sunlight as if aware it was truly not like the real thing. Songbirds from select locales on Amarr Prime chirped their mellifluous tones. Tiny chitin wings belonging to a plethora of insects vibrated furiously as they buzzed around. There was a special peace here - a special quiescence. Ardashir walked along a stone-laden pathway twisting through the gardens.
Ardashir sat on a marble bench and pondered. He stared beyond at an artificial landscape, seemingly dazed in contemplation.
“A bit of deep thought is always good for the soul”, a deep voice murmured softly.
Ardashir didn’t flinch at the stranger’s words which appeared out of nowhere. He was a soldier after all.
“My apologies, I didn’t see you working over there.”
The old man gave a hearty chuckle. His large and imposing figure, common among Brutor men, moved with an odd grace. “I was just tending to the plants.”
“You’ve done an excellent job, I can see why they keep you around”, Ardashir joked.
The men laughed together.
“I’ve just been thinking about things. Things I wonder about. I wonder…”, Ardashir seemed to trail off. The old Brutor was patient. With a gentle gaze, he egged him on.
“Well, I am a soldier. I fight for many reasons. They tell me the most important reason I fight is for God. God wants me to fight for him. But I wonder sometimes, does He really? Is this my divine purpose?”
The old Brutor stroked his thick white beard. Ardashir looked over at the gentle giant with a childlike innocence. He wanted answers.
“God is all around us”, he proclaimed. He plucked a flower from the dirt and held it up to Ardashir, “God breathes life into the flowers. He commands the insects. Controls the winds. Enters us with each and every breath, and exits. Envelops. Embraces. God takes many forms, and bestows purpose to each thing.”
“God is omnipotent”, chimed in Ardashir.
The Brutor nodded. “I have always believed that when you question your divine purpose, you are not fulfilling your divine purpose. The preachers are not God, merely vassals to Him. God is within you and around you always. If you feel you are not serving your divine purpose, it is because you are not.”
Ardashir lolled his head to and fro. “Truthfully, I trained to be a soldier at the urging of my parents. I believed I was following my true calling, but now not so. I always wanted to pursue art of some kind.”
“And what holds you back?”
Ardashir shrugged. “Social expectations, I suppose.”
“Rise above, and fulfill your divine purpose, Child of God.”
The chapel bells rang, signaling the pass of another hour. Ardashir glanced back at the chapel for a few moments. He returned his gaze only to see the old man had vanished. He remained in silent stupor. Quiescence passed over the gardens once more.