Thoughts on a Togenkyo Morning
Disclaimer: Saiyuki belongs to Kazuya Minekura and associates.
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Mornings in Togenkyo are bright and harsh things. Filled with the necessity of gathering up belongings and rations and whatever other small supplies might be needed to facilitate travel further into the heart of this wild country. But sometimes, on the most inopportune of occasions, they make Hazel long for the far off canals of Venice. He knows that, in some sense of ecclesiastical duty it should probably be Rome that he longs to see again, but it isn’t. He never saw the beauty of Rome, even when he was there on errands and varying duties. He never saw Rome proper anyway and the vaulted ceilings of the Sistine Chapel always made him feel rather queasy. He considers his blasphemy for a moment and recalls that he really didn’t like this business of petitioning for elevation through the College of Cardinals at all. Cardinal Deacons and Cardinal Priests and Cardinal Bishops. What next? And then he remembers; after that you became Pope.
So in that respect, it was probably for the greater good that he never did get that far anyway. Though ‘Pope Hazel’ did sound wonderfully silly, not that he would have kept his name of course. He would rather have fancied being an ‘Anastasius’ but that’s neither here nor there really.
Gato looks at him from across the room and Hazel smiles cheerily.
“I was considering Papal election.” He says and those seemingly blank eyes flicker in what Hazel recognises as amusement. Because no matter how he phrases it, how innocuous he tries to make it sound, Gato is probably fully aware that ‘Pope Hazel’ would be a terribly silly thing.
At least, as they prepare to leave for another long day of walking, it’s stopped him thinking about Venice again.
Venice stank of course but then what could you expect from an open sewer? Though it was no less the lovelier for it. And there were such parties and festivities. He suspects that of all the great and wonderful things of Venice it is those grand gatherings and celebrations that he misses most of all. Fine wine, laughter behind discreet hands, the arch and witty company of his peers.
He misses the company most of all, really. Because it’s not that he dislikes Gato’s presence at his side, a steady and solid constant but sometimes, in the strange sunlit mornings he misses those that if he couldn’t call friends, were at least colleagues. He longs for the familiar sound of lilting voices, sharp clashing words, subtle insults flung with the accuracy of an assassin’s blade. The gossip flying about in elegant drawing rooms; that Cardinal so-and-so was far too blunt in his objections to the latest adaptation in doctrine; that Bishop whatever-his-name-was spent far too much time in front of his mirror and far too little on his sermon.
That cloistered, bickering, witty, scathing, wonderful life he had led. How he missed it now that it was gone. Because Togenkyo was so far removed from that elegance and grace to which he, Hazel Gloße, was never to return.
It made mornings depressing to think about it and it invariably made him hate Togenkyo all the more. Perhaps that was part of his punishment? That he had been granted a brief glimpse of Paradise on Earth, only to be cast down, left to wander this cracked and barren landscape that was only ever so slightly removed from Hell.
It was almost enough to make him renounce all Faith and make a mockery of Holy decree… which he was doing anyway so perhaps it was a suitable punishment after all. Of course if he fell into the category of unbelieving, abominable, murdering, fornicating, sorcerer who also lied, as the Book of Revelations stipulated; the only things that he could claim he was innocent of, in the lake of fire and brimstone would be the fearful idolatry part. Which was almost disappointing because if he must be damned then it seemed a waste not to do it properly. Unless, you could count it as idolatry by proxy, in which case Gato solved that problem nicely, which only left the fearful part really and he wasn’t entirely sure what he could do about that.
Though perhaps the fearful bit was a mistranslation because it didn’t seem such a necessarily dire thing in comparison to all the rest. After all, did you condemn equally a man who was a coward, as you would a man who had slept with his sister? Unless it was craven behaviour that it was getting at.
Though, he did tend to hide behind Gato when they were being attacked… which was pragmatism really since a well-placed arrow would actually kill him and Gato did have definite heroic tendencies that probably needed to be indulged from time to time.
Heroism aside, Gato was looking at him again, as they walked and Hazel proceeded to skip along for the next few paces or so in response.
Besides, there were probably worse things in the world than being in Togenkyo on a bright, sunny morning; walking along a dirt road that seemed to be leading nowhere with a dashedly chivalrous companion at your side, who didn’t at all seem to mind that the tune you were humming was part of a sonata called “Le Trille du Diable”.
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“Le Trille du Diable” is of course the famed sonata for violin & piano by Tartini.
The ranks of Cardinal Deacon, Cardinal Priest and Cardinal Bishop in the College of Cardinals don’t actually correspond to the ranks of Deacon, Priest and Bishop, respectively but to the rank of the holder within the College itself.
Hazel is also referring to Pope Anastasius II (496 — 498 AD) who was one of the characters in the Hell of Dante’s “Divine Comedy”.
And the lake of fire and brimstone is of course from Revelations 21:8:
“But for the fearful, and unbelieving, and abominable, and murderers, and fornicators, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, their part'shall be in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone; which is the second death.”
