That One Rose; He was that Tain, that Emisarry, and this was known to all and disputed by none, if they were quick.

He did not ask for bows, which he had always misliked, and ever mistrusted. No, he merely asked that all should sit, for standing about was something they did all the day in their appointed tasks. And he said that faith should not be distracted, by arches, and by corns, and by calves. For faith, he knew, surely had distractions enough. Or at the least, his did.

"The Prophets Have Spoken To Me."

And Those Prophets which walked and talked as his family had truly spoken unto him. Not merely once had he been sore tempted to say they had, when they had not. But truth was all his art now, and he wished not to say that they had spoken until they had. And that they had.

"They have said much which I do not know of, but will. They gave me a message for my human brother, born apart from me, away and away. But that message is only for my brother, and jealously must I guard it. But they gave me much which I give unto you, by their wish and by my heart's passion to know these things better myself--and thereby, Be better myself."

He would pause, and speak no more for  a time. In this time he wished heartily that they would break their sheep's silence and question him. In times yet not, he thought sure that they would never be quiet again. But that time, it is known, is not written of here, away and away.

"In times agone and on worlds that are now not even dust, we grabbed at flowers. These flowers shall know luck to me, I said, and bad fortune to my foes. But I say unto you now that my foes were not my foes, and merely other people, whose interests were not mine, yet could have been. And what of those flowers, that I purchased for good luck? And what of the ringer, to drive out spirits that were stuck? And what of casting my tunic, into the Seeing Muck? I say to you now that I had naught but a dirty tunic, a loud ringer, and that those flowers were merely flowers, away and away."

"The way your street turns is the way your street turns. The way smoke rises says only how a fire burns. And bodies are bodies, in graves or in urns. And when we are ground to dust by time, we have walked but a single step, away and away."
 
Now at that, one did rise, for to say that bodies had no worth, and were merely bodies, was as calling Kahless a worm or Surak a lunatic, to those peoples as held them dear--although there were fewer of them as well, away and away.

"I am Chosen Vedek Damar, and you speak poorly, when you say that the bones of the dead are just dust and calcified marrow. Those bones are all. They are our link to that which was. Make your tunic not muddy. Make of your flowers a garnish, and an odorcide. I have never used a ringer, and to me, smoke is smoke, and right and left are right and left. But those bodies hold the us that was, and you may not by word cast them off, away and away."

Now, it ought be known, that Damar's words were past, and not present truth. For The Tain had taken these queries in private hearings, and with his Kai, made out of them answers. But The Emissary had chosen to have a public inquisitor, to say that which was unsaid yet still asked, away and away.

"Tell me, oh pray tell me, where are those bones you speak of now? Those bones are gone, and with them the worlds we had made into mausoleums. I am told that Andorians keep their lost ones' bones strewn about their own homes, and know of no separation twixt the quick and the dead. I am also told that Tellarites dispose of all bodies completely, keeping only that which the lost had made. Yet we always built and built til the living had no place. Cardassia Eight had no great Metropolises---only Necropolises. We shall honor our lost in new ways we do not yet know of. But our choice is now declared. Cardassians favor the living, the moving, and the breathing. Let the dead be the dead, and let us honor them by letting them be the living in their past time. Let the unborn honor us by letting us be the living now. No one is disrespected, or cast off. But all are the living in their own spheres. Let us not keep the dead as our dead. Let them be the living to themselves. As we are the living to ourselves, and the unborn are the living in their time, which is as yet, away and away."

A girl arose, and yet this girl would be given to mother, away and away.

"I am Jil Orra. You have said that your foes were not your foes. But Ere I came to these Arks, my father, who was Madred, tortured a poor fool upon a rack, and he had worked long and he had worked hard to make of this a torturer's rack. A thousand times a thousand times had I walked in upon and seen his art, and told myself that this moon I saw was in fact the sun. But when your word came, Oh Emissary, I saw day become night, and shook to realize I had never known day at all. Yet if this man was not my foe, or my father's foe, nor your foe, then who was Madred, that I called Father? I would know this, for already the knowings of wife and mother wipe his face from my memories, away and away."

The Tain had not spoken with this girl-woman, or her boy-husband, on this matter. But he had known the same query under its countless disguises, and so spoke as he had before, away and away.

"Once, I would have said your father was a great and witty man, and I would have said this thing out of reverence for his horrid and efficient art. Once, many would have applauded his art, which was his soul, as well, and their clapping would have been a fear-induced ward to keep him from them, and their places. Once, many an amputee, and many a mute, and many a blind, and many a frenzied would have said that you were the daughter of a horrid and evil man, and that you too would know corruption for believing his night was day. But now I will answer your question. Who, then, was that Madred? Why, it was he who best knew how horrid his art was. It was he who clapped the loudest, fearing his own visits. And his limbs were all stumps, and he was a deaf dumb and blind lunatic. For your father never caught the one he wanted to find. For the one you truly saw on that rack was no mere poor fool. Your father always sought to put himself on that rack, and that was what you truly saw. By his own hand was he made a poor fool, away and away."

The girl-woman sat with her beloved boy-man, the son of The Kai Dukat. She put her head on his shoulders, and her speech all trailed off.

"Then I swear his grandson will be no poor fool, seeking dominion over others. For now I see the only true power one may wield is control over one's self, and that is elusive enough, away and away."

The Tain spoke on, and sought to make knowers of the unknowing, and he sure counted himself among the unknowing, and made no distinction at all, save that he was Emissary, and this everyone knew.

"You have heard it said that you must seek fine things, and you must know fine people, and you must have all that is fine be yours and yours alone. But I say now to you, those fineries are found not in distant lands but in one's own home. The fineries we all ran after agone are spoken of thus; The infernal machines that detonated our planets were crafted with components of finest gold-plated latinum. Does it cheer a one of you to know that the manner of our homelessness was so well kept? Does it fill a single belly, or a single heart, or a wearied mind to say, oh, but our last bombs were so well made? No one that mattered ever saw that gold. Our finery is not there. It never was there, and when we thought it was, we tripped like frenzied pups over each other, til we were aught but rabid hounds, begging for shiny scraps, away and away."

Now, there was one who that Tain, that Emisarry, whose heart he had come to know, and she his, though her age forbid their knowing more, away and away. She was called Tora Dukat, and she alone had known time on Bajor, before it was taken and put back as The Ruined Garden. She knew and loved its people well, and was called by some The Half-Bajoran, though all who saw her knew that this was not so. She rose and she spoke, with all the force and joy that she could not give her chosen one by body's touch.

"You Emisarry! You are a speaker of lies! You say to us that finery and all of its lure shall be turned away, and turned away. But I knew Bajor, and I knew Bajorans. Their world was good, but it was not a dream of dreams, and there were those that sought finery over all else, and in this, mark me, I speak also of Clerics, who were sworn to do only good. What we had as our spoken way a great many had as their hidden way, and mark me once more, I speak not of proclaimers of The Pagh Wraiths, but the children of the Prophets, word and deed."

His heart danced to see her, and though he was not given to love one such as her, he did, and could not reason that nor why his love was returned as well as it was. So he cast her words down, harshly, as though his was a rear stance, and it was her hair he held, and not her words.

"You Child! You speak to me thus, and say unto all my flock that I am a liar? Darker still, you base such a charge upon the thought that there were grim and evil Bajorans? That you were mine, and could be shown the hand of concern! The Bajorans were not Chosen Of The Prophets that they were perfect, or strongly better than others. No, those who rose to be perfect, chose to be so, and those that chose to be better, chose to be better. The Prophets offer up no certainties, except for themselves, as we look to them, Away And Away."

Some wondered why one so chastised grinned so very mightily, but grin she did as The Tain spoke on, and his grin he fought back.

"We who are Second Chosen are not poorly chosen. We are no being's settlement. In time, we would have found this path, after a hellish pact written in our own blood drained every last drop of it. But we walk a different path, now. We will dwell at The Center, and hope true, we will dwell with The Prophets. Yet for a time, I shall not dwell among you. My brother comes, though he knows it not, and he is human---called The Sisko. To Your Kai, well picked and well-liked, I leave you, to join in battle gainst Dread Ghidorah, As One Of Those Who Shall Be Called Defiant."

That Kai, that Toram Dukat, arose, and watched as The Emisarry left them after too brief a time, and he went away, and away.

"I shall not lead you as well as he. I shall not lead you to power, and if any find my leadership wanting or needful, that is likely because that is the truth. The answers you have heard this day will not suffice, and you will seek others, and need others. This seeking, then, will be your finery, and shine more brightly than any bauble or gold. But The Prophets' have told me this : When it is that we reach The Ruined Garden, Our Emisarry will await us, and he shall have with him Life From Lifelessness. We shall be Cardassians, and you may as mark me when I say that. But we shall all be different than what we were, as we always are. The path shall be made known to us, and we will walk with The Prophets Evermore, Away and Away."

The Hour Of The Wolf approached, and Dread Ghidorah would be met in battle pitched and howled. Soon shall we speak of the arrival at The Ruined Garden. But such things are for now, Away and Away.