Chapter 8.2: The Golden Fawn of the Temple

"Don't take it so hard, Du Quam Umdochar. Things are just...different now."

But Umdochar wouldn't have it. "Different? My spirit father Du Quam Gurkiim would roll in his pantheon upon catching word of this—if his body had not been cremated." He stole a glance towards the preoccupied Nubejul.

He began to whisper, lest a common man might hear, "It's the Sijarkes! It's all too strange ever since the Sijarkes was chosen to be the new Tirkju'a. She'll even have two courts—that's two Domminical seats. Two! And in addition to that, she's taking my boy with her as her Du Quam, when traditionally, he was meant for the Domme Tirkju'a in the first place; as I was before his place, and my spirit father before mine."

Umdochar looked at Helnah'm with his eyes wide, a conspiracy forming at the forefront of his mind. "Do you see where I am coming from?"

"The Tirkju'a..."

"The Tirkju'a would have never abandoned everything he did for the Order, and I remain among the few who still believe so," Umdochar raised his voice, then it softened. "Of his eventual return, that is. If he were still here..." He began to fidget and look away. "Things would not have come to this."

When the old Du Quam became silent, Helnah'm wondered how he might cheer him up from this doom mood. He knew all that there was to talk of in the temple because the younger quams often reported everything they encountered throughout the day. He was a popular recipient of such. It seemed to them that he must always be told of whatever was going on, even on matters concerning only the Margijer's side.

He thought he'd give it a try.

He leaned forward, putting himself before Umdochar's line of sight.

"A fellow Quam claimed the Sijarkes needed a younger Du Quam for a reason."

Nubejul turned his head slightly to catch bits of their conversation.

"And what reason did this fool have to give to afford you comfort?"

"He told me that the Sijarkes may be clever," Helnah'm said, and then lowered his voice, "But she is a child in all respects. She's likely to treat him better when she's had him since his youth. She won't regard him with as much contempt like she does with you and the Tirkju'a. So at the very least, you can be rest assured that he won't be harmed or ridiculed."

Umdochar remained still, the given information still processing in his mind. "She really is the problem here."

Helnah'm's lips parted, but he kept his counsel. "Of course."

"Then watch over him always whenever I am away, Helnah'm. Send word, as usual. Who knows what that freak might do whenever I am away."

Nubejul turned his attention away from eavesdropping on the conversation happening at the back of the room. Whatever that was, he did not need to process it as of now—he had a choice to make.

He resumed scanning the list of worthy candidates whose examination scores are laid out along with their qualifications and honors. The task didn't feel that it was his call at all, but if it was from Katill Broiis, he had no reason to deny it. A newly appointed Du Quam of two Domminical courts making a decision in place of the sole Domma he would be serving despite not having met her yet! He can only pray that he won't upset the Sijarkes with his chosen administrator. This is the first of many tasks to come, so he must make it worth it.

And as he understood it, the right admin for her would be one with little concern for her trivialities—say, Helnah'm was right, and she was more of a child than her murals made her seem.

He also felt that, under that hypothetical, the Sijarkes might come with a fickle temper, thus, an admin who could understand her temperament and work efficiently to satisfy her demands no matter how often they come in bursts or fits is desirable.

Some of the candidates on the list were familiar to him, and some came from places he's never been to and have only heard of. When he looked back at the Du Quam Umdochar who was deep in conversation with Helnah'm, and then to the Quams around him chattering quietly in anticipation, he felt quite alone on this matter.

As his eyes scanned downwards, and his mind whirred, finding faces to attach to the names he's read, he tried to recall all sorts of instances in which he might've heard their names from somewhere or when he's seen their work before. They must at least have been active in publishing.

One name in particular caught his attention solely because he never expected he would ever end up on that list. But the more his eyes remained on that very name, the more it made sense to him. It just clicked.

"Of course...!" he exclaimed in realization. This caught the attention of those around him. Umdochar approached shortly after the outburst.

"Have you decided yet, Du Quam Tavhaii?"

Nubejul took a while to respond. "Yes." He turned to face the Du Quam and his elder minister-quam. "And I know very well that you'd know of such a name."

"Are they prolific?"

Nubejul put on his warmest smile. "Indeed. It is Toruaz Rozkamoro."

It might've gone unnoticed by most, especially the beaming Nubejul, that the Du Quam Umdochar's cordiality had broken, and his face moved in so ugly a manner making Helnah'm and the other Quams shiver.

"The Urbedaurian." The old Du Quam said lowly. "The Urbedaurian?"

"Is that your final decision?" A confused Helnah'm asked also.

"His majesty will do just fine." Nubejul shook his head in an effort to console the concern that was so clear now on the faces of those around him. He had to be honest, a part of him felt a thrill of amusement, but he knew that this turn of events was only getting on his spirit father's mood.

"Majesty?" Umdochar muttered as he stepped back, shaking his head as he went away. The Quams went silent in respect. Helnah'm felt he must save the situation again.

"Well. Well, it is your call." Helnah'm nodded to himself, assuring himself of that fact. "I must send a response to Katill Broiis immediately. I'll be informing your choice also."

He turned around to see Umdochar facing the wall, his hands on his hips. The old Du Quam's ill temper was not going to stop him from showing the regent Du Quam his warmest welcome. He went up to Nubejul and placed a hand on the regent Quam's shoulders, and in a low, but earnest voice, he said to him:

"We, Quams, won't ever forget the little Quam you were yesterday. What a fine Du Quam you are now! The first to the Sijarkes! Two domminical seats!" He took Nubejul's hands in his, gripping them firmly. "This Quamship temple shall always be your home, your lifelong sanctuary.

Nubejul gripped his hand back, leaning forward so warmly, smiling as brightly as he usually did. "And how could I forget you and all that you've done for me, Helnah'm. Not ever!"

The other Quams gathered around him now, engaged in lively conversation. At a distance, Umdochar remained, watching the Quams' quick acceptance of the chosen administrator. He had the right to be angry and to thus distance himself; he had never expected that his own spirit son would be the one to let an exiled man into the Ori'ehemian Quamship temple of which he had stood guard of for the last three centuries. He would not have stood for it, nor would his predecessor, the late Du Quam Gurkiim.

The admin scribe, an exiled man! An Urbedaurian, a Rozkamoro!

For as long as he remained alive, he would not let the same cracks within the Order bring about Nubejul's downfall. After what he and his spirit father had gone through the past several hundred years, there is no room left to doubt that Du Quams are never safe, they will always be the hunted few, despite their high status.

Nubejul was among them, the hunted few. Umdochar knew that his loyalties lie with his spirit son, and he was resolved to either pass on in death seeing the regent secured, or live to see the regent dead in a tomb befitting his accomplishments.

If honesty had been a virtue that he upheld, then it would've been much easier for him to admit that he would have much rather preferred to see Nubejul dead, but safe and secure in a Du Quam's tomb. It would be ill to think otherwise.