The Revenants

began by matter-of-factly telling Jaer that he/she was unique, a freak, a strangeness. They went on to explain that the world would try to destroy Jaer, and that it was Jaer’s business to figure out ways the world could be foiled in that attempt. They made up the rules as they went along, since no rules ever made before would have helped them.
‘It’s really fortunate for you that all travellers have to wear orbansin,’ said Nathan.
‘Why?’ This was a word of which Jaer was excessively fond.
‘Because He From Gahl did not pass away,’ muttered Ephraim.
Nathan went on without noticing the interruption. ‘About nine hundred years ago, in about 210 TC, a man came from Obnor Gahl and started the Separation. That is, so far as we now know, he was a man, and it is said that he came from Obnor Gahl, an old city on the ancient Rochagamian road, north of Orena near the badlands. He had no name. He was called “He from Gahl,” or sometimes Just “Gahl.” It was a bad time. The reign of the Axe King had ended just a few years before, and there was disorder and ruin. He from Gahl preached Separation as a way of gaining security and peace, each group to Separate from all others so that they might live only like with like.’
‘He came first to Soolenter,’ murmured Ephraim. ‘Up in the Savus Mountains …’
Nathan went on. ‘It seemed to make sense to people weary of the confusion and violence. That first city began to split up on the basis of – what was it? – skin colour, I think. Then, later it split again on the basis of something else, accent, or eye colour, or food habits, or anything at all. Each section walled itself off from the others into an enclave. Some groups moved out of the city entirely to set up small communities by themselves.’
‘The first Separated villages,’ nodded Epraim. ‘The very first ones.’
‘He From Gahl, had… followers, I guess. Minions. Acolytes? No, not acolytes. That has a religious meaning to it, and Gahl wasn’t preaching a religion… exactly. The minions came from this place and that, all different, but they became all the same. They built a “Temple of Separation” in Soolenter. Again, we shouldn’t call it a temple. No worship is done there, so far as we know. But that’s what the Gahlians called it. Perhaps that’s the only word they had. They might-have said “armoury” or “redoubt” and have made more sense….’ Nathan’s thoughts seemed to carry him away into a painful silence, and Jaer did not say ‘why’ or ‘what happened then’ for several minutes. At last Nathan sighed and went on.
‘Well, there was still a need for trade. Food had to be transported from one place to another. Fuel had to be moved, and metals. None of the enclaves or villages were completely self-sufficient. In order that no person “offend” another person by appearing different or strange, it became the custom to wear orbansin. There’s one in the wardrobe. In a sense, an orbansa is a wardrobe, a robe that wards others away. It covers everything, head to heel. They are worn by anyone moving among enclaves or villages – traders, sailors, any travellers at all.’
Ephraim interrupted, obviously thinking about something else. ‘Gahlism might be called a political system, Jaer, of a very ancient kind. Or a secret society of some kind, since they do not tell outsiders what it is they believe, or intend, or allow others in those so-called Temples….’
Nathan went on doggedly. ‘There were some people who thought that Separation was a dangerous, wicked teaching. The Sisterhoods felt so, and the people in Orena. In Orena we have always had many differences, of color, of ideas, of languages. We were all alike in one way, however! We all thought Gahlism would pass. We said it couldn’t go on. For hundreds of years we said that. But, it does. Now there are “Temples of Separation” from Obnor Gahl to M‘Wandi, all the way up the coast of Dantland, into Jowr and Sorgen, in Howbin and Tharsh.’
‘Up much of the River Rochagor. Into the old cities of Labat Ochor and Gombator – let me see, they call them Tiles and Tanner now.’ Ephraim ticked them off on his fingers. ‘There is one here on this island, in Candor, and ships of the black robes have been seen headed toward Cholder and Folazh.’
‘Everywhere,’ said Jaer dispiritedly.
‘No. Not in the high north, yet. The Laklands may well be free of them still, and the peninsula of Methyl-Drossy. Also, they had not gone far south.’
‘Almost everywhere,’ amended Jaer. ‘Almost everywhere I will have to wear those robes.’
‘Orbansin, yes. Though an orbansa is not always protection. The more minions of Gahl there are, the more difficult it is to travel anywhere. There are “Temples” everywhere, monitoring the “Separation” to see it is correct They keep making the rules more strict, more detailed. They order certain people cast out or given to them.’ Ephraim stumbled over the words as though he had something foul in his mouth. ‘And we from Orena go on collecting languages and cultures which are disappearing. The smaller the group, the less chance it has of survival, and those who carry the Seals of Separation seem always to work toward smaller and smaller groups, taking more and more of the people away.’ There was a long, sad silence and then Nathan changed the subject abruptly.
Jaer accepted it all with a patient puzzlement. Jaer was unique. There was no other child, so far as Jaer was concerned, in the universe. The moving flecks at the bottom of the cliff were not truly people, not creatures identifiably similar to himself/herself. Ephraim and Nathan were not like Jaer, either. They had told him that he/she was alone, but there are no degrees of aloneness. Not that Jaer said that to himself, merely that it did not seem to matter as much to Jaer as it