Marble Is Marble

I continued chipping away at the block of marble, the visage of the Arbiter finally freed from the rock. I was pleased with the progress, pausing and leaning back to take a better look. He was truly magnificent, although the task was not nearly complete. Much was still yet to be done, even though it had been over a month since the Arbiter first commissioned the piece to capture such a pivotal moment in our people’s history: the moment the Writ of Union was signed between the Arbiter and the San’Shyuum – the moment the Covenant was born.
In my pause, I heard footsteps approaching the scaffolding that surrounded the block of marble. I looked down, towards the door of the workshop, and saw my apprentice, Deru ‘Ammetee. “Master,” he started, “I trust you remember your meeting with the Arbiter today? He is arriving and should be here within the hour.”
“Of course,” I replied, “or else I would not have been here since before sunrise! Fortunately for the both of us, I have completed carving his face.”
“It is truly a splendid sight, Master. Perhaps I may yet help you?”
“No, that is not necessary, Deru. Prepare refreshments, and sweep up a bit. I shall continue my work here.”
“Yes, Master.”
He did so, while I resumed the work.
Some time passed when, finally, the Arbiter arrived. Deru showed him and his entourage of bodyguards and advisors into my workshop, where I continued finishing the details on the head of the Arbiter, which by now was finally appearing from the block of marble.
“Master Phio ‘Mannimar,” loudly announced Deru, “Behold! The Arbiter walks among us!” I quickly stuffed my tools in my belt around my waist, and climbed down the scaffolding. I stood before the Arbiter, who wore the distinct golden armor of his office, a long flowing gold-colored cape hanging from his shoulders. He was flanked by two warriors.
“Master ‘Mannimar,” began the Arbiter, his voice booming with authority, a distinct rural drawl in his accent.
“My Lord Arbiter,” I replied, bowing my head, balling up my hand into a fist, and placing it atop my heart. “May I offer you a cup of ataq from my personal garden?”
“No thank you, my visit shall be brief,” he replied. He looked up at the block of marble, at his likeness peeking from the stark white stone. “This is but a month’s work?” Now at this time, a great feeling of unease fell over me. I was unsure of his thoughts. Was he disappointed? Angered, perhaps, at the seeming lack of progress? Such great works take much time, even with significant effort and resources invested. Marble is marble, not clay or a bard’s prose. It takes the finest tools, the steadiest hands, and the most visionary of minds to bring life to a prism of rock.
“It is, my Lord. The work is fashioned from marble, not clay or sand. It is not a bard’s prose, easily imagined and written on paper. Much care must be taken into account, lest the image is marred by an unsteady hand or a clouded vision. Assuredly, we would not want to offend the Prophets by mutilating their image.”
“Assuredly,” said the Arbiter. He moved closer to the block, and I stepped aside. He seemed to gaze upon it for quite some time, time enough to where his entourage was most curious as to why he was still staring, for they began to murmur amongst themselves. I noted Deru’s own apprehension and confusion. He turned back to us all. “The progress is satisfactory. I trust your hand, Master ‘Mannimar, and am eager for the future of this work.”
“It is most gracious for you to visit, my Lord. The work shall continue with care. More impressive results shall be seen within a month’s time.”
“Indeed? Very well then. Carry on, and good day to you.”
After the customary departing gestures, the Arbiter and his entourage left the workshop, leaving it empty save for Deru and me. We both breathed a sigh of relief.
“Gods be praised,” said Deru. “I was half-worried he’d cut you down right where you stand.”
“Good fortune that was not so, then” I replied. “Come, there are many long nights ahead for the both of us if we are to meet our self-imposed deadline.”
Category:The Weekly