Welcome to Gaia! ::

Eleuthero sat back and listened for a long while. Each of the students had their views, and had their ways of expressing ideas that Eleuthero had seen in classrooms for many decades. As the discussion seemed to lull for a moment he puffed on his pipe and spoke up again, his words soft and measured.

"The Deity prescribes how it wishes to be worshipped. Some prefer tribute of wines or foods. Others prefer statuary made in their likeness, decked with jewels or fine fabrics. Some wish for prayer, and soft-spoken heart-felt words. Other require deeds and proofs of faith. Each deity has his or her rules and prescriptions." He paused and looked towards Abacus. "Jesu was worshipped by his faithful for thousands of years. As the culture changed, the interpretation of how to show one's faith gradually changed with it. The God had the choice: Abandon his faithful, as some of the older deities had done, and thus lose his worship, or adjust his power and his meanings to suit their needs. Jesu, a young, and short-sighted deity chose the latter. Each little change must have seemed nothing to Him. A small and insignificant detail in the shadow of the larger celestial sphere. But each concession for His faithful changed Him more and more. The faithful can influence a deity, but not change it by their prayer or will. That decision remains in the God's own hands, just as you all have free will to worship or not. Many of the older deities, especially those of the pantheons have remained true to their stations, and are ready and willing to accept new faith instead of changing for the whims of some few faithful who have tried to manipulate them." Eleuthero paused again. He puffed on his pipe and a silvery hammer trickled from the bowl and struck through a ribbon of smoke, causing the lot to shatter into silvery sparks. He turned his glowing gaze on Daggart, and then on Belwen.
"The tasks that Gods can be called upon to assist with are things beyond the sphere of mortals. It would be trite and presumptuous of us to ask for help with things we could do ourselves anyways. The spells we have, the crafts we make are things that we rely upon our best to perform. The skills the Gods offer are things well beyond our scope of talents. It is not a matter of misusing the Celestial power like the Outsiders do. We remain different in our faith because of that distinction. I will not say which is the right way to worship, merely that ours is a good and just way to worship. As an Empyrean, you cannot shirk the blame to a deity, for our existence within the circle of Karma will find a way to punish your falsehoods. You worship, if you so choose. Every time you do, you build up good karma with the deity to whom give love, devotion, patience and respect. You can then call in favours, small ones for small showings of devotion, larger favours in times of dire need if you have been supportive for a long time. You do not try half-as-hard and expect your deity to come to save you. You do all in your power to do your best, always." Eleuthero gave a slow, meaningful look to every young Empyrean in the room. "But, alas, younglings... Sometimes your best is simply not enough. When those times come upon you, you may wish you had a friend in a high place, who can help you when you have spent every last bit of strength, worn yourself ragged with flinging of Essence, and still find yourself in peril. In times like those, you may call to heaven for help. If you have been good, and true, the gods may find pity or love enough to answer your need." Eleuthero stilled himself again, and sat back in his armchair. He exhaled a long plume of silvery smoke that obscurred his face but for the constant white glow of his eyes.

Daggart nodded, what Eleuthero said was true... he sighed and rested his elbows on the table before him. This worship thing didn't sit well with him. It seemed to take control out of your hands despite what the professor said. He would much prefer to rely on good planning and personal ability then the unknown. Puffing out his cheeks, the choleric scribbled down a few notes, making two columns on his paper. A sort of pros and cons table.

---


Kallisto looked up as the discussion grew heated. Religion sure was a touchy subject! But she was pleased no one had started yelling or grown arrogant. She didn't really have anything to add to the discussion because she wasn't interested at all. As far as she was concerned, it was a personal choice and should be left at that.

Setting down her quill at the lull in discussion, she noticed Cashimer sit beside Lior. Oh? Who was this now? She didn't recognize him and leaned over to the seat beside her, where Lior was sitting, and whispered, "Who's beside you? I haven't seen him before." She smiled, curious.

---

Astaroth listened to the back and forth. It intrigued him greatly. How such invisible, subtle things could influence the world so heavily and then be influence by the world in turn. But weren't the gods created by mortals after a fashion? Raising a hand, he voiced his question, "But what proof is there that the Gods existed before Mortals? As far as I know, there isn't any records of such powerful beings prior to our existence. Could they not be embodiments of natural archtypes used to explain away a world we don't quite understand?" He turned back around to face the professor from the front seat, "Fill in the blanks as it were. It results in faith, doesn't it? Relying on these supernatural beings to shed light on the parts of life we don't understand? It's a double edged sword, I suppose, you have faith that said deity knows about some aspect of life and will guide you through but then it takes away any real need to discover the reason why that aspect of life is the way it is for yourself." He paused, thinking of a practical example, "Somewhat like shining a lantern onto a dark path in the middle of the night - you know a little bit and rely on the lantern to show the way but you don't stray from the circle of light to explore the environs."

Astaroth nodded. That sounded right. He was more interested in the reasons why and the interactions between the mortals and immortals then the actual practice of faith or religion.

((For reference, seating arrangement goes:
Ubel, Cashimer, Lior, Kallisto, Yambati - in that order. xD ))

The feathered quill scratched rapidly, reproducing the Professor's words while Arwen turned them over in her head. Curious eyes turned to Astaroth as he spoke, finding the idea itself intruiging. Gods, a manifest of mortal needs of protection and guidance? Maybe, but... "Do the Gods not have a direct hand in the creation of the world itself?" Her own soft voice surprised her, although the fact that she'd willingly spoken out loud downright shocked her. Well, no point in being shy now...

"That is why there are pantheons...for each deity to have a strength over a certain part of culture, such as history and creation. However...this Jesu is One and Only, and He is newer, if I'm not mistaken, which is curious for what you have brought up. I don't disagree with your theory," she ammended as she smiled at Astaroth, "for we have many holes that we try to fill. It's just curious that so many pantheons exist with different names that bestow the same gift, that shed light over the same uncertain area. Are new lanterns found - like Jesu - when the old Gods are abandoned, or have the old Gods refused to bend to a steadily corrupt will, and so a new figure head is put up in Their place?"

Arwen turned her gaze to the Professor. She wasn't questioning the existance of Gods as seemed to be the basis of the conversation, but rather, their role and similarities. She was less interested in the debate if they existed or not, and more so are to the influence and sway they could have. Could the deities really be born out of necessity, and did that mean that the worshippers truly had more power than They?

Danna looked up at Astaroth in surprise. It seemed so simple a concept for her, she couldn't fathom that Astaroth had missed it. "Of course there wouldn't be any records or proofs of them existing before mortals. There was no one to take account of them." Danna frowned softly, wondering if she'd missed something important if Astaroth was convinced the Gods were merely created by the mortals. "Was it Hippocrites that said, 'If Horses had hands, they would build statues of horses?'" She flushed a little, realizing she spoke not just to Astaroth, but before the entire class - before the Professor! "I mean, the names we put on these deities, the faces we carve them as are our interpretations of these sources of powers so that we can feel connection to them. No matter what name you give it, these powers exist. Labelling a small alottment of that power - like what makes plants grow, or what makes the sun shine - is just a way to make it easier for the mortal mind to comprehend." Did she have this all terribly wrong?

Cyphr's face lit up suddenly when Danna spoke. She had a way of explaining things that made a bit more sense to him than flowery professor's lectures. "Like Magnets!" Cyphr burst out, waving Blayk's quill in the air, instead of writing with it. "You canna see the forces that pulls thems together, but when you lets go of one they snaps together like BAM!" Cyphr grinned, and wrote on his page very carefully in his untidy scrawl: Philsphy like magnets.

Up to this point, Galadrae had been seated on the very edge of the class, silent and scribbling furiously in her little brown notebook. She had been relieved to have not been too late for class, entering just as Eleuthero began his lesson, and she had shuffled in quietly and taken a seat away from all the others; she hadn't wanted to get into the middle of their groups and conversations.

When she scribbled her notes, she took notes not just on what the professor had to say, but on what everyone had to say. After all, was philosophy not about the whole spectrum of viewpoints? Besides, everyone in the class had such interesting ideas, Gala just had to give them permanence by recording them. The skinny young Phlegmatic kept quiet herself, though, because she couldn't even think of what she would add to this already fascinating conversation. What could she say that would be as interesting or as moving or as valid as what everyone else already had to say?

Although she nearly dropped her quill at Cyphr's sudden outburst, unexpected as it was. Pulling herself back together, she, too, jotted down the thought about the magnets.

In response to Kallisto's introduction and question, and Cash's question, he just leveled them both with a quiet stare... though his eyes were tumultuous.

"... I need time to think," he said, flatly, turning back to his paper. It was filled with notes, questions he had from the discussion. He hadn't been able to bring himself to enter. Maybe it was because he was so attracted to the idea of faith, but yet so new to it? He couldn't form a clear opinion, couldn't judge word against word. He was scowling at the page, as if that could make things better.

Gods as creations of mortal beings, gods as potentially dangerous, gods warped, gods cast aside... he shuddered, pulling away slightly from Kallisto. He needed time, not silly introductions... not more questions he couldn't answer. The hand holding his quill pressed momentarily to his temples. He felt a headache coming on.

Yambati let her draw a way, simply pressing his now unoccupied hand to his forehead so he could write some more. He looked... pained by this whole discussion. Not rapturously interested, but well and truly pained.

At Kallisto's cold voice, he glanced over at her with those troubled eyes. "Go ahead and socialize, but keep me out of it," he murmured, before turning back towards his thoughts. His thoughts which would not come properly. He growled and drew a large, black line across his own thoughts on the page, dropping the quill to bury his face in his hands.

Yambati stiffened, but let Kallisto pry away his hands. "I don't need to go to the infirmary," he murmured, voice a little less harsh as he noticed the worry in her eyes. "I just... I need quiet. To figure all of this out. I can't... I don't know what to think, and-"

He bit his lip, looking away. "It's too loud here. I can't think."