Fugitive of the Sky

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Give Up Your Kaprae

"When tioendoth naihm linoth," Cloven read. "For when the oppressors are no more and destruction has ceased, and he who tramples all underfoot has vanished from the land, then a seat will be established in—what is the word?"

"I think it's 'steadfast love'. Dad always just read it as kali," Aqie said, waving her legs in the air.

"Steadfast love." Cloven shook his head. "It doesn't mean anything compared to kali."

"Language is like that, I guess. But there's a lot more words in Mongor for cutting things." Aqie shifted her hands so her head rested on them better.

Cloven scowled and stuck out his tongue, then quickly checked out the door to see if other Farwings were watching. "Cutting is naitketayngth," he said with feeling. "Png i kantng always lead to death."

"But what about the yearly sacrifices? We have to sacrifice a nightlark each for our sin. That's killing, but the Scrolls say to do it."

"We cause death because of sin. There would not be sacrifices if the world was not friskoth." Cloven jabbed the Scroll for emphasis. "This is not the way it is meant to be. It will not be this way when Adonai comes."

Arguing with Cloven about the Scrolls never worked. He always managed to win in the end. Aqie didn't know how he managed to understand the Scrolls and Songs so well. Still, it was worth it to try, anyway. "Yes, but Adonai instituted the sacrifices for sin. Adonai can't do anything wrong, can He?"

"Of course not!"

Cornered! Aqie grinned at Cloven. "Then killing sacrifices can't be naiketayngth."

Cloven paused, hesitated, and then shook his head. "We are getting distracted. Back to the point."

"You don't have an answer, do you?" Aqie pressed.

He grimaced. "I will think of one. Just give me a couple of minutes."

"Why don't you just admit defeat? I don't see a way around it."

"Perhaps the yearly sacrifices are not naiketayngth, but otherwise killing is," Cloven said with surprising force. "It has to be."

Aqie furrowed her brows and stopped kicking. "Why are you so stuck on that? You say that every single time."

Cloven folded his arms and sat back from the Scrolls, leaning against the hosonan wall. "Because it is true."

"Where can you find that in the Scrolls? I thought you were all super find-it-in-the-Scrolls-only."

"I—" Cloven frowned and checked out the door again. He tapped the verses he had been reading and pinned Aqie with an intense stare. "Van tioendoth don tiliah, i nah von Mongor."

"I don't get what you mean," Aqie said flatly. "There are always oppressors, no matter who is doing the oppressing."

"That's why Adonai's haremkalima has not come. When the oppressors are no more and destruction has ceased and he who tramples all underfoot has vanished from the land, then a seat will be established in kali and Adonai's chosen one will sit on it in righteousness and justice." Cloven leaned over the Scroll, as if he was studying it intently. "When Adonai's chosen one comes, there will be no oppressors. There. Argue with that."

Aqie rolled over and sat up with a wince. "Stop avoiding my question. What are you really referencing?"

He didn't look up. "I'm reading the seventeenth prophecy in the intar Scroll."

Aqie tried to swipe the Scroll away, but he held it down with both hands. "Stop that! Wait a minute, weren't you reading the sixteenth—"

Cloven shoved her. "Be careful with that! Don't you get what I'm referencing? Or do I have to spell out every single word?" he added under his breath.