The Cat Who Knew How to Cry

7. THE GREAT CURTAIN (part 3)

"In some ways, yes. None of your freed slaves would have died from disease, or been killed or robbed. They would have worked hard to try to help them adapt to their new realities, but... they wouldn't have accomplished much. Changing a soul's nature is impossible. In the best possible scenario they would have been able to help them find work similar to that which they did in Rual, with as detailed a job description as possible. They would have become servants – in homes or temples, assistants to healers, craftsmen, farmers and the like. But I'm not so sure they would have loved that life. Alas, nobody would have taken care of them forever. And then..."

"But why?!" Anar exploded.

"It's their nature! Don't you get that? There's no malicious intent or evil design at work here. It's the same random chance that made you so overwhelmingly freedom-loving. They just happen to lack a strong inner core, an independent identity. Forging their own beliefs on anything is a staggering burden to them."

"Empty inside..." Anar mumbled.

Alu nodded.

"When we look within ourselves and say, 'Such is my opinion on this or that matter, my attitude towards it,' and then act in accordance with those convictions, defending them, fortifying words with actions – that is precisely when we acquire our spirit. Thus we as if weave a magical garment for our soul, which protects it against shocks of life, helps us on our chosen path, and, with time, imparts to us a series of special abilities, like my gift of seeing a creature's Path or your gift of flying without magic. Of course, our parents and gods weave the first strands of this fabric, but the rest is up to us. It is us. With inborn slaves, it's a different story. Their souls are so... non-existent that these poor creatures can't form their own spiritual shell. They simply have nothing to rely upon inside themselves. And a naked soul is vulnerable and almost blind."

"But they can still adopt others' points of view, right? Like Kad? And then their souls... find peace?"

"Yes. That's why for many of them their chains take on a sacred meaning – they are a symbol of inner peace and spiritual growth. When they become free, inborn slaves immediately, without even realizing it, start to look for someone to look up to: a role model, a mentor... a master. Someone into whose image they can mold themselves. So they can grow their spirit from the seeds of their ideas."

"But that could be anybody!"

"Unfortunately, yes. But there's an even more important element in play here: their spiritual shell is... unstable. It needs constant adjustment and prompting."

Anar shook his head, bemused.

"We're talking about the same thing," Aniallu said. "They take on others' views readily, right away. They take them on faith, without any inner scrutiny."

"And if not everyone in their immediate vicinity holds the same point of view..." Anar scoffed sadly.

"... the wretched creatures' spiritual shell either doesn't form at all or it breaks like a soap bubble, exposing their vulnerable souls all over again. It is incredibly painful, so they drown their grief with... whatever they can. Even if they manage to survive and somehow make a life for themselves as free creatures, they are never happy. The world is too big, too complex, too... varied for them. There are too many sharp corners. It's always trying to make them over; it asks too much of them. It's just like blaming a nice childless couple for their infertility. Only relatively isolated societies where everyone feels the same way about things can accept inborn slaves as they are, whether it's Rual, a temple, or the house of a respectable clan."

"This all sounds reasonable, and yet... When a being willingly chooses to give up their freedom, I can accept that. But when they're chained from birth because of a particular nature of their soul – even for their own good – I can't help but be sickened by it!"