The Planting Feast Approaches

We are deep into En'Kara, the first month of the year. The First Passage Hand approaches and, with it, the Planting Feast. With the animosity between the lower castes and the five high, particularly the Initiates, I wonder if differences will be put aside for the three ceremonial days that necessary sacrifices, prayer and ritual may be completed. It is a solemn, important event not taken lightly, particularly by the working men and women of the lower castes. This event is not so sacrosanct, however, that it has not been blasphemed in the past. A glaring example from history was the time a rogue tarnsman from Ko-ro-ba dared to storm out of the city astride a fierce, black tarn with the Home Stone in hand - not moments after it was sprinkled with the offering of the Life Daughter. He took, as well, a woman once known as the daughter of Marlenus, but in retrospect, I take no offense to that - only that he failed to keep the bitch in irons from Day One. I will say that he has done service to the city since that time, but there are some slights so grave that one does not easily forgive - and one certainly never forgets. Given the opportunity, I would certainly drop Tasta's leash to see just how heroically he might run.

Whatever the political climate in a few hands time, I will make my observances and honor the day in hopes others are good enough to do the same.

I am reminded of a conversation I had with a man that might have been Ubar, had his personal pride and ambition not outweighed his sense of civic responsibility. "This is my city," I told him. "Your city?" he answered incredulously, as if I were a threat to his machinations. I have no doubt he could have gutted me where I stood, if the notion occurred to him. "My city, yes," I answered unwavering in my claim. I still believe that. This is my city. With defiance and obstinance, I have defended her gates. With conviction and determination, I have been the voice of her People. With a patriotic and dissident heart, I have defaced her walls that acceptance and kow-towing to the elite would not become the order of the day. So yes, my friend and sometimes adversary, Ar is mine. My love for her is deep and abiding, unending and enduring. Let no man or nation stand between us.