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irwinwe

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<div style="border:1px #ccc solid; background-image:url('/images/ray.gif'); font-family:arial; width:200px; padding:5px;"><center><div style="font-size:20px;"><a href="/story/irwinwe/39983">Professor Kane 8</a></div><table><tr><td width="50"><div style="color:#2CC362; font-size:15px; padding-top:4px; background-image:url('/images/profratebg.gif'); background-repeat:no-repeat; width:44px; height:26px; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; vertical-align:middle; padding-top:8px; padding-left:1px; " valign="top">11</div></td><td><div style="height:100px;width:100px; padding-top:9px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url(/images/storyCover.png);"><a href="/story/irwinwe/39983"><div style="margin-left:9px; __padding:0px; height:90px; width:70px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url('http://www.testriffic.com/storyfiles/39983.jpg');"></div></a></div></td></tr></table></center></div>

+ 4	Halcyon Fire
+ 7	Professor Kane 12 (edited)
+ 3	Professor Kane 9 (edited)
+ 9	Professor Kane 12
+ 8	Professor Kane 11
+ 11	Professor Kane 10
+ 14	Professor Kane 9
+ 11	Professor Kane 8
+ 4	Gainsay Who Dare 8
+ 3	Gainsay Who Dare 7
+ 3	Gainsay Who Dare 6
+ 4	Gainsay Who Dare 5
+ 3	Gainsay Who Dare 4
+ 4	Gainsay Who Dare 3
+ 4	Gainsay Who Dare 2
+ 5	Gainsay Who Dare
+ 13	Professor Kane 7
+ 12	Professor Kane 6
+ 16	Professor Kane 5
+ 13	Professor Kane 4

No ill comments on what side you agree with please!  Haha...it is merely a story.  And this conversation was necessary for later chapters...you'll eventually see why.  :)  It's long lol...get ready. 

***

I lay back as he had, trying to focus on the beauty of my surroundings as opposed to the unsightly state of my romantic situations.  Man had not built any houses here.  We lay amidst open glens.  There were snow-capped mountains in the distance, some silver between the sun's shadows, and some green and purple.  They encompassed us as robed knights at the round table, as if we were their understudy, their next grail, their next adventure or unsolved puzzle.  Spare yourselves, I silently told them, he and I are a finished venture.  But they studied on, unflinching.  We were their subjects, powerless and subordinate, yet ironically, as focal points, we held more power than we realized.  I believed that the Creator and his supernatural realm could reach the human soul through the great spectrum nature provided.  The sea was his blood, the air his breath, the fog and the wind his collection of souls, and the mountains his heart.  We were small, I believed, but as we witnessed this great power, we saw, if but fleetingly, through God's eyes. 

 

"Isn't it beautiful here?" I said suddenly, and Iain opened his eyes to look at me.

 

"Aye" he said quietly, after a pause, but his eyes did not leave me.

 

I ignored his blatant misunderstanding of what I deemed beautiful, and continued.  "It's so free, unadulterated, untouched by man's destructive hand.  I feel so wonderfully small.  But not insignificant.  It's amazing how God can do that.  How he can make you feel, even as you are surrounded by nature's grandiosity, powerful in your smallness, like you can see and understand everything, if but just for a moment."

 

Suddenly, the spark in his eyes returned, and his quick wit unsheathed itself.  "Do ye really believe in all tha' God rubbish?  I would ‘ave thought a woman as smart as you would ‘ave formed more individualistic opinions about such things, instead of taking religion's easy path."

 

"Religion's easy path" I repeated, my lip quirking pensively.  Somehow I had known he was too self-reliant for religion.  He was the focal point of his own world, the bold seeker of tangible truths, as opposed to the indecisive, impractical philosopher who sought intangible ones, as did I.  His realities were more straightforward and practical.  Mine were more convoluted and paranormal.  But they certainly were not conforming realities, nor did they lead me down an easy path.  They were my own convictions, carved out of my individualism and burgeoning nonconformity, and staying true to any conviction requires a courage not possessed by many. 

 

"Aye, indeed.  Organized religion is too often the problem of this world's jaded complex" he furthered his point, "Why not rely on yourself instead of some invisible sovereign?  He canna speak to you.  Plus, if there is such a figure, why is the world so unfair?"

 

"He cannot speak?  Is that what you think?" I asked him, " I hear him often."

 

He gave a small huff of laughter.  "Och?  And where?"

 

"In the whispering on the wind, and in the subtle far-away thunder.  He is in everything intangible, everything that cannot be controlled by man.  He is all around you.  You have to listen, though, and be on the receiving end.  That's when he'll stir your soul." 

 

"You know, if I took LSD and went out and pondered the power of the leaf, I suspect I could probably reach the same conduit with God as you say you have.  Are you sure you're not on drugs?  I think you are merely imagining him often."

 

My mouth quirked upwards, amused.  Then I sought to clarify my statement.  Kane understood my figurative speech, but this man was not at all like Kane.  "Fine, I sense him often, how is that? "

 

He lowered his head and shook it back and forth.  "I feel like I'm listening to Ralph Waldo Emerson's essay on Transcendentalism all over again."

 

"Ralph Waldo Emerson did not support organized religion," I told him; more as a side note than anything else.  "I actually agree with you in that organized religion is too often the problem.  But I do believe in collaboration with God on a personal level, which is a very individualistic notion.  And, in the grand scheme of things, I believe the world is fair, Iain.  What is fortune for one is misfortune for another, and vice versa.  Everything can be justified eventually, and everything serves its rightful purpose." 

 

His eyes settled on mine steadily, and I knew he was preparing to close in on me.  He never gave in until he'd had the concluding word, the last flame, the final wisp of smoke.  "So, you're saying everything happens for a reason?" he ejected. 

 

"Yes" I said, elevating my chin slightly. 

 

"Then, why do good people die while bad people get whatever they want?" He returned with his straight stare, and without missing a beat.

 

"The world is a cruel balance of foul being fair, and the only way I can justify it or make sense of it is to believe that we all live for a purpose bigger than us, and the creator constantly keeps us returning to him through humbling circumstances.  He keeps us broken, and perhaps that is to remind us that we are not the omnipotent ones.  We cannot control fate, and we cannot explain why freak accidents strike good people and bad people reap glories.  We are humbled before a creed bigger than we are capable of conceiving" I finished, knowing that I had not really answered the question, because it had been one of those unanswerable questions, unanswerable to all but fate. 

 

"You are a very idealistic woman" he said matter-of-factly.  "Can't you see that you're trying to make a Utopia out of a hell-hole?"

 

I cocked my head a bit and narrowed my eyes in contemplation.  "You claim that earth is a hell-hole?  Well then you are a very cynical man."

 

He shrugged, "Aye, weel at least I don't imagine God's power emanating from a leaf."

 

I laughed at him despite myself, and shook my head, not expecting to win this argument.  Part of nonconformity, after all, was accepting society's rejection.  "It's about much more than the power of leaf, Iain.  It's about the earthly soul connecting with the spiritual.  It is an unseen thing unless you know how to look for it and where.  Anyway, Mr. Practical, tell me what you believe, if you think my beliefs so stupid."

 

"I doona find your beliefs stupid.  I can tell ye've put thought behind them.  I just find them fanciful, based more on fantasy than on life.  And as for wha' I believe, I am Agnostic, which isna to be confused with Atheistic.  Atheism is the outright rejection of God.  Agnosticism is the belief that true value of metaphysical claims regarding theology is simply unknown based on my subjective experiences" he culminated, sounding very sophisticated and condescending, just as the typical scholar who had not yet learned the importance of intangible value over the tangible and counterfeit power of man's religion so written in books. 

 

"So what are you saying, then?  That you doubt but do not reject?"  It was beginning to sound as if he was the one taking the easy path, not I.  I had expected him to have more solid, single-minded beliefs in regards to this topic, not those of a lukewarm, secular neutralizer. 

 

"Yes.  I havena seen tha' which can make me believe.  It's just tha' there are things that make more sense than creationism and transcendentalism" he said

 

"Like what?" I asked him, eager to learn of his beliefs so that I could assess him, which was likely not a righteous endeavor.  However, I had not my chalcedony stone, so I gave this plan free reign. 

 

"Like evolutionary theory, and biological concreteness" he replied simply.  I had imagined he would say that.  Science provided tangible evidence, and thus it was bound to attract followers who sought direct, straightforward answers.  Facts.  But I didn't believe in "facts", as I assumed any human could distort them and fill them with their own biases.  To me, scientific "fact" and religious systems on earth were synonymous...both creations of man...both attempts to describe the grandiose design of the Creator. 

 

He continued to look at me, expecting a retort, as he saw that I had been pondering his answer.  I delivered it on a question.  "So, you're telling me that you are wary of following man's created religious systems, but are more than happy to follow man's created scientific systems?  What, tell me, is the difference between them, if they are both created by man?  If organized religion is so tenuous to you, then how is organized science any less tenuous?" 

 

"You can prove science" he answered easily, with a shrug of his shoulders. 

 

"Oh?" I asked.  "Can you prove evolution of the soul?"

 

"Ahhh, come on" he replied, rolling his eyes.  "Do you believe the world was really created in 6 days, and that it's only a few thousand years old?"  

 

I ignored his age-old question and continued with my age-old question.  "Can you describe the evolution of emotion, like jealousy, or respect?  Or hate?"

 

"Or true love?" he added dramatically, as if he'd heard this argument thousands of times.

 

"Yes" I answered with a quirked brow.  "Can you prove it?"

 

He looked away from me towards the fir trees, jaw set and eyes narrowed.  Then a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he let a small huff of laughter escape from his mouth as he bowed his head.  He could think of no answer, facetious or serious, to fill the void my question posed. 

 

"True love and God are one in the same.  If you believe in love, there is no reason why you should not believe in God, for true love is just as intangible" I answered.  I was beginning to believe Iain, the biggest thrill-seeker I knew, the laugh-at-danger and devil-may-care individual that seemed impenetrable to assaults in any form, was perhaps a bit afraid of true love.  This man, who was afraid of nothing worldly, was perhaps afraid of believing anything beyond it.  This epiphany was maddening.  Kane was a man circumspect of all the world had to offer, but completely open and believing of true love, and made weak and humble because of it.  Again, the two men were polar opposites, a Libra and an Aries, for me, a soulmate and a soul's counterpoint. 

 

"Intangible powers, hm?" Iain interrupted my runaway thoughts.  "Things you canna see, or touch, or prove.  I doona like putting my trust in things I canna see, or touch, or prove."

 

I smiled inwardly as his words proved my thoughts more germane.  "Oh you can see them, and touch them, and prove them, but only in epiphanies to yourself.  You can't make money off of them, and you can't fence them.  They are as invisible to discernment as air, as wild and capricious as the tempest. They were meant only to be kept in unassuming moments, and in the hearts of those that know how to let them go."

 

"Wise words for someone who hasna let go" he countered, raising his brows and regarding me with arrogance. 

 

I had dealt with him one too many times to fall into his trap again.  He sought to anger me, as he earned his victories by pulling chains.  I would not allow myself to become angry.  I would be emotionally immoveable, stagnant air as opposed to a tempest, and then I could starve his hot flames.  I smiled slowly at him.  His eyes narrowed, and his lips quirked a bit.  He was not accustomed to this reaction, and it slowed his growing excitement. 

 

"And how could you not believe, if you supposedly have let go?" I asked him.

 

A mere breeze blew for just a moment, and then receded, depriving the fire of any response that would build it to victorious heights.  He was not satisfied, and his answer was biting, "I dinna say I was an atheist.  I said I was agnostic.  Big difference.  It's not tha' I dinna believe; I'm just not sure I've seen enough tae make me believe completely."

 

And just like that, I understood how to work him.   I could anger him by not becoming angry.  It would not always work, as my temper often times got the better of me, but when my thoughts beat my instinct in the race for come-backs, I could successfully nurse him in whatever way I wanted.  Kane and I connected naturally, as if we were made of the same element, but Iain and I were like air and fire, and it was a constant dance for control. 

 

"I'll make it simpler.  Do you believe in true love, Iain?"  I asked him. 

 

The muscles in his jaw flickered as he clenched his teeth.  His silver eyes met mine underneath dark brows. 

 

"Have you been in love?  Have you actually even let go in this category?" I pressed on, wickedly eager to prove his hypocrisy.  He had accused me on several occasions of being afraid to let go.  I thought it would be quite humorous if I could prove him guilty of the same thing, if but just in this single category of love and intangibility. 

 

"None of your business" he answered, looking away on a jerk of his head.  I watched him become smaller, as if my refusal to be rattled by him or work with him was suffocating him.  He shifted his position on the ground, preparing to stand. 

 

"Ah, finally.  I have called you out on something" I said softly, and with amusement. 

 

He looked down on me with offense.  "I 'ave loved women, just not the right ones." 

 

"No, you have loved the right women in the wrong ways" I countered quickly, cramping him even more. 

 

"Wha?" he exclaimed, fire nearly reduced to mere ashes. 

 

"Sexual, corporeal relationships can only take us so far and last us so long.  They are not deep, and they cannot penetrate the soul" I answered. 

 

"Are we subtly talking about how ye think I'm a man-whore again?" he asked, caught between confusion and maniacal amusement. 

 

I raised my brows. 

 

"Fine" he said unhappily, throwing up his hands, " I'll agree with you, once.  The women I 'ave loved, I 'ave loved only with my body and not with my soul, are ye happy?  It's true." 

 

"For shame, Iain Ross" I answered monotonously, showing him I was neither surprised nor impressed by his admission. 

 

"I just havena...acknowledged...the right one to love with my soul yet" he spoke on a low note, deep voice too controlled and articulate to reveal anything but irritation. 

 

"Well that's legitimate, I suppose" I answered, beginning to think that I had perhaps pushed him too far.  Something about me didn't like seeing Iain Ross without fire.  I had always wanted to douse his flames, but now that I knew I was capable, I also knew that I didn't much like doing it.  I decided I liked it more when we were balancing each other, nursing each other equally.  "Do you believe you'll find her?" I asked more quietly, thinking this would be a neutral question.  

 

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say, as the last of his flames became obsolete.  Just like that, he was put out.  "Yes" he said dismissively, standing up.  He stared directly at me, eyes weary and words harsh, "Yes I do.  But I believe she, ironically, will be incapable of finding me, and therefore I doona know if I can believe in true love or in God, or in your confident notions that the world is fair.  So I will go on believing what I can prove, and what I can control.  Now, I want cheese and I'm cold.  Let's go, and close your mouth woman, I'm tired of hearing your convoluted nonsense."  He turned moodily on his heels and began to walk away, hands shoved tensely in the pockets of his shorts. 

 

"Excuse me?" I asked on a disbelieving whisper.  Not only had his strange answer confused me, but his spite had made my emotions blustery, and the result was a cyclone admission. 

 

I saw him stop walking, and his broad shoulders relaxed a bit.  The fire had come back just a bit, now that he had riled my senses. 

 

"Convoluted, intelligent, nonsense" he corrected himself, turning slightly to look at me.  "Of course."

 

I huffed, raising a baffled brow.  "Thank you?"

 

"Yeh, whatever" he said, satisfied with ending our conversation, now that I had lit his flames again.  He looked off into the distance. 

 

"Why did you get so tense all of the sudden?' I asked him. 

 

"I'm not I'm just done talking about all this.  Ah, look, it's my shirt" he said, as he started forward to retrieve it. 

 

"You just changed the subject" I yelled after him. 

 

"The subject was already closed" he yelled back at me. 

 

"Why?" I asked him when I caught up to him.  "Because you weren't dominating the conversation and I wasn't agreeing with everything you were saying?"

 

"No, because I want cheese and I currently have muddy snow on my bluidy fucking chest" he answered, smiling coldly. 

 

I regarded him for a moment.  That wasn't the reason.  I had hit a nerve, many nerves, and I had been the victor.  I didn't know why I wasn't enjoying my victory.  I had looked forward to overpowering Iain Ross for months.  He was resilient, so he wasn't showing hurt, but he was exactly that, hurt.  I suddenly found myself extremely sorry.  I had humbled his ego, which he had needed, but now I felt I had to build it up again.  I couldn't explain it.  " Well in either case, I'm sorry, Iain" I said genuinely, looking into his granite gaze. 

 

His coldness left him, and his expression eased.  He looked down, and then slipped his shirt over his head, buying time.  "Don't laugh at my THO now" he said as he chuckled. 

 

A grin tugged at my lips.  The wily fox was already feeling better.  All it had taken was my outward display of guilt. 

 

"Let's go" he said with a smile, walking forward.  I smiled broadly at his back, knowing that by following him I'd be becoming the subordinate.  However, I was fine with that now, as I knew that I could overpower him if I so wished.  Perhaps this very notion would cause him to stop liking me.  Perhaps with this breakthrough, I could finally focus on just Kane.  So with a simmering skip in my step, I followed him.  

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