Conversation · Tiago

"Hard to say. I think I did some construction work here, back when I still had material worries. Up there, I realized what the true purpose of the church was..."

"Been spending a lot of time here ever since. The past is nothing to me now, wey. It didn't belong to me."

Hmh... does it mean he witnessed the police raid?

"What will happen once you drink from this 'perforation'?"

"I will be incinerated, but not destroyed -- finally at one with the state of the world before reality began."

That sounds a bit like substitution behaviour, no? You know a thing or two about that...

"I still don't understand what you're doing in the church."

"I'm a saeraff, homes. I sing the Mother's glory."

"It doesn't really make sense for you to sing if she's the Mother of Silence."

He laughs. "I don't mean literal singing, homes. This is the Mother of Silence we're talking about. It's the singing of a burning heart..."

"...you may be thinking, 'But fire crackles!' No, homes, that's the material that's burning. The flames themselves are without sound."

(Nod.) "Singing is good. We should all sing a bit more."

"Can you sing for me? Sing for me something."

"I ain't from no marietti, if that's what you're thinking. And the song I sing is silent as the Mother."

"Marietti" is a Mesque style of music and dance commonly seen at all manner of festivities -- especially weddings. It's delightfully quaint, owing to its peasant origins.

He lost his cool there for a moment. Seems you hit some nerve.

Wait, he says he didn't remember anything about being Mesque -- and now he remembers this?

Accept this contradiction. The man's obviously deranged.

"But I was talking about the singing of a burning heart... You may be thinking, 'But fire crackles!' No, homes, that's the material that's burning. The flames themselves are without sound."

"I thought you said you didn't remember what it meant to be Mesque."

"Things come back... in flashes." He thinks for a moment. "When something reminds me... Sometimes they even seem important again. Really important. But then, thanks to the Mother, they're gone again."

"That seems to upset you. But you said you didn't really remember your past."

He sighs. "Things come back... in flashes. When something reminds me... Sometimes they even seem important again. Really important. But then, thanks to the Mother, they're gone again."

"I was rude. I'm sorry."

He sighs. "It don't matter none, homes. Not anymore."

"Did you suffer some singing tragedy?"

"Maybe I did." He sighs. "It don't matter no more."

"I recently tore it up on the stage with my singing."

"Good for you, man. But you must know that nothing you achieve's gonna make you happy and loved like you think you wanna be -- comes with being a slave to el vino."

"If you could submit to the mother -- sing her praises with your burning heart -- you could be free from selfish desire."

"I recently suffered a singing tragedy myself."

"What you're suffering from is el vino-- it's left you alone with your selfishness. That's your tragedy, wey."

Don't rub it in.

You don't need to share your shame.

"Is this your scarf lying around here?" (Show him the red scarf you found.)

"I think it was, a long time ago..." He looks at the red winter scarf in your hand. "I had to shed it like a skin, to get closer to the centre of the silence. You can have it. I don't need it anymore."

It'd only stop him from climbing.

The scarf looks pretty dapper actually.

"Is this what you meant by 'saeraffic existence'?"

"Right on, homes. You're catching on. Yeah, you see, I'm sort of a saeraff to the Mother... I sing her glory."

"Did you just climb down from the church tower?"

"Sure did, homes."

"Okay, I have other questions."

"Are you human? You weren't moving like a human."

He chuckles. "I am, at least in part, homes... until the Mother's love burns away the crude distinctions of the body."

What does he mean 'in part'?

A body is only crude so long as it's unformed, son. That's where your training comes in.

I don't know, I think he may be onto something.

What's next? A raw food diet? You're a disappointment.

"Hey, are you a boiadeiro?"

"A boiadeiro? No, homes. I don't go in for that kinda thing. It's all about surrendering to the Mother now."

"I think having a body is great! I don't want to burn away any of its distinctions!"

"That's because you're soaked through and through with al gul, bro. Keeps you heavy and grounded. Then fools you into thinking that's a good thing."

"If you was to surrender to the Mother -- you know, get a taste of saeraffic existence -- you'd never wanna go back."

"You sound like you're not from around here."

"Haven't you ever met a Mesque before, cabron? Surprising number of us around Revachol..."

"And it's great! Such diversity is a boon to the economy."

He laughs. "Not sure I'm contributing to the economy none, homes."

"What's 'Mesque'?"

"You know, I'm not so sure myself anymore." He thinks for a moment. "Don't really matter, though."