The Obituary of Tajani OnMaqibn
The Obituary of Kjalit Miktabit Tajani OnMaqibn, composed by her student, Qela OnTajani, in 5 SC (1513 Stayatam) on the anniversary of her death for the records of the Miktaban
Let it never be stated that Qela OnTajani shirked the responsibilities of politics. Already many of the senior Mikat in this government have attempted to pin this tragedy and mismanagement on me, or worse, accredit our current position to Tajani’s actions. In reality the tardiness of this written tribute is due to the existential threat that we have found ourselves under following my mentor's death, which I have been on the front lines defending my people against. It is a fundamental hypocrisy of our modern age that those who waste their days rotting in dusty offices should have the confidence to condemn the few brave who dare to change this world for the better. Well let it never be confused which sort of person I am. Or of which sort Tajani was.
Today I pick up the reed to fulfill the final obligation to my mentor, as demanded by the rites of our people. I will not lavish you with unnecessary exposition; I am neither scholar nor poet by trade. Suffice it to say that this has been a year of mourning. Tajani was the greatest of the Mikat. I do not have the patience for maintaining a neutrality that I do not hold. There are few in this country’s governance that I trusted, but I relied on her every word, not only as my tutor, but as my leader, and as my friend. She was committed to her faith, and to her people, and worked every day to do the best for both. All of these things that I say about her are entirely true, though I have no pretensions about acting as a saviour of her posthumous image or any such nonsense. Most likely each person reading this will have already formed their own opinion of her that I am unlikely to change, and am uninterested in changing. I compose this obituary because it is my last duty to her, and her alone.
We stand now in a changed world. The Gate is open, and inside sits the dead corpse of God. I know that still there are many who refuse to believe this, but they are largely the same hypocrites that deride the participation of a woman such as myself in these events regardless, and I do not care about their small opinions. Our God is dead, and the Old Things walk the desert in mass once again. This world, this time, this year that we have now endured since the opening of the Gate, is a blasphemy under our feet. The roots of our faith have been torn from beneath us and we have no solid ground upon which to stand. What power does the scripture of a murdered God have? Or do his words still hold just as much import in the coming trials of our people? These questions I cannot answer.
Excuse my incoherency that is unbefitting of such professional writing. As I said, I am neither scholar nor poet by trade. I am simply a student of a dead teacher, who is far too young to be writing an obituary.
Tajani OnMaqibn saw our people through two wars, a half-century of strife, prosperity, expansion, and conflict that would have torn in two all but the strongest woman. And now, where the desert has turned to sacrilege around us, we must carry that legacy with the upmost respect and strength. Tajani fought her fair share of battles. It is only fair that we must continue on to fight our own, for our faith, for our people, and for the truth that each of us holds impossibly close to our hearts.
I raise my sword to the setting sun for Tajani OnMaqibn on this anniversary of the night as she was laid to rest. God willing we carry on your name.
-Qela OnTajani, General of the Sha-Mikat city guard and diplomatic liaison with the Badhit and Iqashit Clans
I really enjoy this narrative style. Imagining reading this in some quiet corner of The Miktaban was great.
Thanks! In that case I might focus more on some diagetic writing pieces, this one was really fun to do.