#38 - As Peculiar as Ahrimaz

The three raconteurs sat quietly in the former Hand's office, notebooks filled with scribbled words, confusion on their faces.

Ahrimiar the Elder sat quietly, toying with the handle of his cup as they sat.  Limyé was cross-legged upon the carpet, his braid coiling down behind him, sturdy brown fingers folded peacefully in his lap.

The fire in the fireplace crackled and then puffed a faint cloud of smoke up to hang against the painted ceiling, the candle lanterns fighting to bring more light to the room on this dim, grey day.

The world outside seemed faint and very far away, the distant sounds of the House market muffled in the winter snow, the High Temple bells chiming softly in the distance as their carillons spoke the evening song to each other across the river.

M’ser James,” Ahrimiar said quietly.  “I understand that it is incredible and fantastic and utterly impossible.  This is why we have all our Celebrants researching if anything has happened like this in all our recorded and oral history, back to when we were a wandering tribe.  So far, nothing.  But the Two Gods have a history of speaking to us, showing us what we can only call miracles.”

“But.  But he’s not Ahrimaz?  Our Ahrimaz?  Please Eminence repeat this. You are known for having some Aporrheitos skill and can tell the absolute truth from lies.  His name is Ahrimaz, he looks and sounds like your son, he has many similar scars, except for the brand that marks him as the Hand of the people, yet he is not the same man?”

“This is the best explanation we have been able to surmise, pieced together from all the family’s observations and from Ahrimaz’s own mouth.  This Ahrimaz woke up in the bed where our boy went to sleep the night before.  He is not the same man.  He was, what many Innéans would call insane, because he was and still is Emperor of the Owned Lands of Inné, down to his bones.”

“That’s… incredible,” Mercedes said.  “And you admit to locking him up, in a panic, and he then threatened to kill you all?”

“Exactly.  To the best of our understanding, we think that our Ahrimaz is in the other world… where he is playing the part of Emperor.  All we have to go on is the word of this Ahrimaz, and the dreams of our Seers and Celebrants, including Ahrimaz’s brother.  The family healer,” he nodded at Limyé, “has taken him on as a patient, even though he has been violent more than once.  Our war master is assisting, since it seems to us, that he might be brought to sanity.”

“Will he sue you for unlawful restraint?” Dauf asked.  “Why are you coming out with this now?”

“And is that why he just sent our inventors a stack of machine designs and technological miracles?  They are from this invisible, untouchable Empire?” Teel leaned forward as he asked, scribbling in his notebook.  He licked the pencil, paused and looked at it.  “I mean even something so simple as a pen with a reservoir of ink in it?”

“He may, though it has not occurred to him yet that he might sue the family, but we are supporting him, because, for all intents and purposes he IS our son.  We accept him as such.” Ahrimaz sighed.  “At first we were careful of him because we hoped that this… this… switch… might be undone, though that has not happened as yet.  One could say that we are forced to consider that this circumstance is permanent and that this Ahrimaz is our boy for good; thus our current honesty to the people of Inné.”

“When can we speak to him?”

Limyé spoke up.  “He is currently in a very vulnerable state in his healing.  His rages are mostly under his control at the moment but we shall let you interview him, when he deems himself able to bear your questions, at his own recognizance.”

“So he’s of sound mind?”

“Yes, if you consider that he believes he owns everyone around him.”

Dauf whistled slightly then looked chagrined.  “Excuse me, Eminence.”

“I am not offended, M’ser.”

“Have any of the other countries of the Coalition been notified?”

“No.  They only know that Ahrimaz has been ill and that his brother Ahriminash has been established as the Indefinite Ancillar Hand.”

Teel leaned back and raised an eyebrow at Mercedes.  She had an in with the First Lady. She nodded slightly.  “Our inventors are gibbering and foaming at some of the things he’s diagramed.  Does he intend to continue releasing such things?  Inné would certainly vote him a stipend just for this contribution to the society.”

“I will make sure he understands that.  He doesn’t realize how valuable these ideas are.  Liryan bless, he nearly gave himself frostbite in the snow the other day, because he cannot pray to Her for help.”

“He can’t?” That was a startled exclamation from Mercedes.  “Ahrimaz was known for how the Lady answered his prayers.  Why can this Ahrimaz not pray to Her?”

“In his world there is no Goddess.  They have made her a Demon and water-burn all who cleave to Her as witches.”

“Liryan bless!” The words burst out of Teel’s mouth and he placed his fingers over his lips, chagrined at his own outburst.  “That is truly hideous.”

“And it is the world that this Ahrimaz is from.  He was forced to manifest Aeono’s fire from a very young age and it hurt him terribly.”

“Eminence, how are you and the family feeling about all this?”

Ahrimiar the Elder raised a gently inquisitive eyebrow at Mercedes and her cheeks darkened as she blushed.  “I’m not sure, M’ser,” he said.  “We’ve never had a peculiar child before.  At least not anyone more peculiar than my Ahrimaz.”