Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [126]
There were four of these smaller countries on the southern continent, Wataru soon learned: Nacht, Bog, Sasaya, and Arikita, along with a place with the rather convoluted—to Wataru’s ear—name of the “Special Administrative State of Dela Rubesi.” All of them together formed a sort of Republic. Lacking a notebook, Wataru repeated the words inside his head. Nacht, Bog, Sasaya, Arikita. He couldn’t remember ever being this interested in social studies class.
“Speaking generally, Nacht is a country of agriculture and livestock. Most of it is flat plains in the southernmost part of the southern continent. On the opposite side, next to the ocean, is Bog, land of merchants. Sasaya, then, is a haven for scholars. Just about every starseer goes there once in his lifetime to study. Arikita is the most industrious of the southern nations. Lots of mines there too.”
“What about this Special Administrative State of Dela Rubesi place?”
Kee Keema tilted his head. Instead of an answer, he asked a question. “What sort of gods do you pray to, Wataru?”
“Gods? Um…” Wataru hesitated. He hadn’t ever really thought about God, or gods, before. “I’m not really sure. Maybe my mom could tell you.”
“What, is she a priest?”
Wataru laughed. “No, but, my grandpa in Chiba’s grave is at a temple that belongs to some sect or other. I’m really not sure…”
“Hrm? A sect you say? What’s that?”
Kee Keema let go of the reins with his right hand and scratched at his lip with a crooked nail. It was the exact same gesture Katchan would make when the teacher asked him a question at school and he didn’t know the answer.
Wataru wondered how old Kee Keema was. His body was quite large, but it occurred to him he might be younger than he looked.
Who knows? The waterkin may age differently than us—than the ankha, I mean.
“There are many different peoples living in the southern lands, you see, but they all pray to the Goddess of the Tower.”
When Kee Keema spoke about the Goddess, his tone became very serious. “Why, she was the one who made this world. She started it all. In a way, the Goddess is like our mother.”
But, he went on to explain, there were some in Vision who thought differently.
“Some people say that she didn’t make the world at all—that some other god made the world, and she’s just watching it for ’im.”
“Watching the world?”
I don’t suppose a world is the kind of thing you can just throw in a coin locker and forget about.
“So somewhere there’s a god that’s even more powerful than the Goddess?”
“More powerful…or just older. That’s why they call him the Old God.”
He explained that the Special Administrative State of Dela Rubesi was formed of people who believed in the Old God as Creator. In some ways, it was more of a church than a nation.
“Right in the middle of the southern continent is a high plateau, the Undoor Highland, and that’s where you’ll find Dela Rubesi. The people who live there don’t mingle much with us low-landers. They grow all their own food—or so we have to assume, since they never trade for it. Truth be told, no one knows much about them. They don’t let in outsiders, you see.”
“So what do these people who worship the Old God think of the Goddess?”
“What do they think? Not much, frankly. To them, the Old God is much more important. When the apocalypse comes to our world, and the end is near, they say the Old God will come again and bring order to the world.”
“What does everybody else think about this? What would you think, Kee Keema?”
“Hrm…well, I don’t know much about history,” Kee Keema said, avoiding the subject. “But I know about the Old God, because they tell you all about him when you’re a child. They say he’s a god from way way back. We waterkin call the Old God Il-da Yamyamro, which means the One Who Brings Order to Chaos.”
“The One Who Brings Order to Chaos.” Cool name.
“’Course, since the Empire came together ’bout three hundred years back, no one just believes in the Old God anymore. You’re either a true believer in ’im, or a follower of the Goddess, and never the twain shall meet.”
He explained that