Chapter 10: The Last of the Old
Note: If you have not read chapters 8f and 9, please do so first.
The group of competitors filed into the small, almost hut-like house. Jin seemed especially eager as they found various places to sit on the nicely carpeted floor.
From the inside, the house was much nicer than it had seemed from outside. There was a cheery fire in the fire place, a variety of warm earth tones, a well-stocked bookcase, and a bowl of fruit. The house appeared to have a few more rooms in the back. It was altogether very comfortable.
There was even a computer in the corner, but its power cord was very obviously unplugged.
“Welcome, children,” said the woman who had let them in. She had at first appeared to be quite old and wise…or was that wizened…but was actually no more than ten years older than they were. Exactly what her age was, though, none of them would have wanted to guess. Probably too young to legitimately be calling them children. Whatever.
“My name is Yining,” she continued, “What are all your names?”
They told her. Kushal, Gordon, and Richard did it by pointing to each other.
“Oh, I am never going to remember all that.” Yining gave a small laugh. “I am so bad at names,” she added self-deprecatingly.
“So, Miss Yining,” Jin began hesitantly.
“Oh,” she interrupted, “Just Yining. Please.”
“OK, um, Yining.” Jin looked decidedly uncomfortable, especially for having manipulated everyone else into joining him here. “Can you tell me—us—what happened to Parliamentary debate?”
Yining sighed and lowered herself into a comfortable chair. “OK, but it may take several paragraphs.” Jin nodded.
“Several paragraphs?” Persia half-whispered, half-giggled to Ivy. Ivy, for her part, responded with serious “Shhh!”
“Years ago, there was another debate form, known as Parliamentary, or Parli for short,” Yining began, “This form was a combination of LD and Impromptu speech, in that the topic was not given until ten minutes before the debate itself. Also, unlike either LD or Impromptu, debaters worked in pairs.” Elaine breathed in sharply. Yining continued, “The Parli form was a lot more free than LD or even the lesser debate events like Congress.”
She sighed. “It was that freedom that led to its downfall. Eventually competitors would have totally different case structures, and then…a debate degraded into a disordely argument, with all of the art taken out of it.” LDers Richard and Kushal looked askance at the very idea.
“So what other choice was there?” Yining sounded mournful. “The Avatars—yes, even the Speech ones—decided that Parli had to end. And end it did, not with a bang but a whimper. And I am the last echo of that whimper,” she finished poetically.
A collective sigh emerged into the room; few of the listeners had realized they were holding their collective breath.
“Well, of course they were able to get rid of it!” Da Seul said unexpectedly, “I mean, with two LD Avatars, how could they fail to convince the Speech Avatars to…” She left the sentence hanging.
Yining shook her head. “There weren’t two LD Avatars.” This statement caused another shocked outburst that was cut off with a flash of Jin’s eyes. The hungry look had returned. Yining looked faintly surprised at the subtle man who had, for the most part, blended in to the shadows. But the shadows were, of course, cast by the flickering flames in the fireplace. It was a nice bit of symbolism.
Yining shook her head to clear her thoughts. “The reason there are two LD Avatars today,” she began again, “is because there is no longer a Parli Avatar. The last one I cannot name, but I can say her reign ended prematurely when the others agreed to terminate the event.” A tiny, almost unnoticeable shudder ran through her shoulders. “In life, she was my partner.”
“Your partner?” said Christine incredulously, but Gordon overrode her.
“Why can’t you tell us her name?”
Yining looked puzzled. “Because she opted out of the story.” Just about all of the listeners looked confused (anywhere from politely to completely), except for Flora, who nodded sagely and gestured for Yining to go on.
“I could have been the Avatar of Parli, at one point.” Christine gave a full gasp this time, and Yining let out a small, not-quite-sad smile. “But I didn’t want to give up my life. Life! Once you become an Avatar, your life is forever defined by Speech and Debate, and politics. You cannot remember your old life, your friends, your experiences. You may gain power, but you lose—perhaps—your soul.”
A chill settled over the room.
But it may have just been the dying fire.
Yining rose abruptly. “You guys should learn how to tend a fire,” she said over her shoulder, “It’s really quite…fascinating…” A glow that may have been reflected fire and may have been a hint of pyromania came into her eyes.
Christine looked like she wanted to ask all of her Avatar-related questions, but none of them really applied. This was a woman who had turned down the chance to become an Avatar. Christine had never thought that anyone would not want to be an Avatar. Well, not that she’d ever become one, but that wasn’t because she didn’t want to. Was it?
Gordon interrupted her train of thought (along with several other people’s) once again. “So…why did they need a second LD Avatar? Is it Written somewhere that there must be Five?”
At this, Yining actually laughed. “No, it’s because it would take forever to get anything done with an even number of people.”
This time, everyone looked at each other and nodded sagely.
“Besides,” she continued sensibly, “Even if there wasn’t constant deadlock, the current LD Avatar wouldn’t let it be three-to-one in favor of Speech. Trust me, I knew her in life as well.” Her voice became lighter. “Go ahead and help yourself to some fruit.” She took a banana and sat back in her chair again, peeling it deftly. Christine cautiously took an apple; Kellie, an orange. Edward seemed unwilling to take the last banana; Elaine took it instead.
Jin stood. “Yining, there must be a way to bring back Parli.”
“I’m sorry,” said Yining, and now she did sound regretful, “But Parli has become only a fairy tale for young debaters. It no longer exists in our world.”
“But please.” Jin clenched his hands. “Isn’t there anything you can give us?”
Yining frowned and her eyes dropped. “There is…one thing.” She rose again and extracted a battered, stapled packet of yellow papers. “Here,” she said, dropping the papers in Jin’s hands. Jin coughed as dust rose into the air. “These are the only artifacts of Parli I have, and I have no need of them anymore.”
Jin, in a fit of formality, bowed (not a full bow, too awkward, but an inclination of the head and upper body at least).
There was an awkward silence in the room for at least four seconds.
“Right,” said Christine briskly, getting to her feet, “Thank you, Mi—uh, Yining. That was, uh, a very interesting life.” She headed for the door.
With much shuffling and scuffing the others rose as well and walked out of the house, in somewhat of a daze. Flora stopped in the door to watch Jin turn once more to Yining.
“Can Parli be revived?” he asked almost humbly.
Yining slowly shook her head. “I don’t think so. Too much is lost, too much is against you. But remember, your life is not just Speech and Debate. Don’t throw it away. Take English 4AP, at the very least.” Jin nodded solemnly but with a hint of real, strong emotion, and walked slowly to the door.
“Come on, Flora,” he said, “Let’s go.”