Descending

 

Most of my thoughts today were spent in contemplation of these wonderful mountains: their rocks and woods. I've spent a good deal of time up here among the high places, and I think I'm all-around the better for it. These mountains have such amazing energy, emanating from the earth in all places. Equally charming are the open granite ledges and the mossy glens. All elements are intense, from the kiss of a closer sun to the depth of mud in a hidden pool. Sometimes I only realize I've gotten used to it when another incredible aspect reveals itself to overwhelm me. I know that soon we'll leave the mountains and head into the grand river valley. Who knows what sort of adventures I'll find myself in there, and if I will ever return to these high places again? Does anyone know the last time that they are at a place, especially one that is cherished? How do you say goodbye as if it isn't the last time, knowing very well that it might be? Today I worked with my own energy and the connection it's formed naturally with that of the mountains. I've separated from places before, but not quite on this scale. I didn't think of it when we ascended to Battell because I knew I wasn't coming to the mountains to stay. At the time though, I didn't know what was up here.

Tomorrow we will begin our proper descent into the Winniaska Valley. There is a particularly difficult ledge coming up that the Ravaels wanted to tackle in the morning light. I thoroughly enjoyed my last full day in the mountain energy - we passed by small settlements along the top of a wide rocky ridge. In many places the road was open to the sun, and everyone we passed had an air of pleasant livelihood. Late in the afternoon we came upon a beautiful Brotherhood Temple, and the group agreed when I suggested we stop. I was able to take a moment to enter the temple and pay my proper respects to the land I've been living and working with for the past few moons. I gave thanks for what lessons and powers it brought me, and left it with a blessing for its continued prosperity as my energy now departs.

––

The group descended the steep root-bound ledge safely and with surprising ease. It seemed a dubious and scary route down at first, but Ayleah at least was buoyed by her previous experiences. The woods around the ledge were dark and deep, but it was not the type of trees that was making her uncomfortable. It was a strange impending feeling, like they were descending into a pit of darkness with no clear way out. They could not turn back, the only way led onward to the river, but she could not shake the feeling of dull warning. At first she thought it was simply the change in energy from mountain to valley, and that she was unused to its nature. It had taken a couple of days to get used to the difference in air and general ambiance when she had first ascended the mountains: living on different land meant being supported by different energy. There had been a dramatic shift in that ambient energy between the top and the bottom of the “Bannister” ledge, but when she did not seem to be acclimating fast enough afterwards, Ayleah knew something was off. The almost painful and uncertain darkness lay ahead, not as an aspect of the land, but as something that had settled in the valley, lying in wait for them. She had felt, and even befriended, dark energies in the mountain groves. They were soft and loving presences though, full of understanding, while this one blocked and threatened.

Thinking of their situationally-innocent traveling companions, she brought up the matter to Telon as they rode.

“If I can sense these sorts of energies coming up in my future, better than most I mean, then what should I be doing about them? I mean, should I be doing anything about them? Is it better to try and actively shape the story, or should I just be as aware as possible and try to react to things as they come?”

Telon gave it a small-moment, then responded thoughtfully. “And should you write the story ahead of time, what will you do to affect those energies of the future? Can any of us really do more than react?-and thus learn to react in the best way and and the best time possible? As you learn to separate your past, present, and future, you gain the space necessary to accept what you are given, and react in a proper fashion.”

They stopped the van at a small hamlet perched at an overlook to the north. Through a window of interestingly-yellowed-green they could see across a deep fertile vale with glimpses of the river far below. Fairly nearby across the way another mountainside rose its wooded slopes with pale leaves, but in the narrow gap between there was a flat land that girdled the river with open fields and lush with growth of its own. To look at the scene, there was no hint of danger. Ayleah sat and meditated on the feeling she had had. It was still there, looming from the valley below. Outwardly, all seemed quiet. Only the occasional twitter of a bird or far-off wood chop broke the peaceful air, but to her there was another sound. A sort of thrumming, and clash of shouts came up to her awareness, and she had to ask if any of the others had heard. They hadn't, but Telon looked understanding and grave.

The two of them shared their trepidation with the rest of the group, and further their suspicion that some unknown trouble lay in wait for them at the base of the mountain. Telon reminded them that he was not the warrior-type that might be able to protect them in a fight, but reassured them nonetheless: “There are ways we have of not being easily seen, and of moving swiftly on foot if necessary. Between Ayleah and myself we will do our very best to ensure your safe passage to the other side of the valley.”

To Ayleah specifically he said: “Be on your guard and stay in open awareness. The shaping of our story here and now is to avoid conflict as much as possible in the coming days.”

As they started the van and got moving again, Telon had one more thing to say, this time to himself. Isn't this how it always seems to work, he thought. Pressing matters end up being the only true way, forcing us to test and learn our lessons. I hope my trust in my understanding is allowing me to make the right moves here. With any luck I'll get through this with flying colors.

At the Clearing

 

He would hang around by the rock today, despite what his mother had said. It wasn't like it was a rough or dangerous spot: anywhere in front of the rock was visible to the whole marketplace and well-trafficked by good people. The shady places were behind the rock, and the kid knew not to go back there alone. That's where the scary men were who always wanted to sell him something from their tents. He never knew what they were offering, but felt he didn't want to find out. For the most part the market clearing was a friendly spot, with an always interesting mix of people from all sorts of places and professions. Local merchants conducted a lively trade with those who came through from all four directions. Many left for the summit camps, returning the next day or not at all. He knew they did not all stay up at the top of the mountain; a road kept going south from there. His mother worked at a place on the north road, but he knew that the north and south roads were really one Long Road that connected all the mountain peaks together. The east and west roads went down into the valleys, and had names connected to old cities where they began. The Clearing felt like the center of the world sometimes; a high place where the directions met and mingled.

A heavy-duty hauler was parked by the entrance to the north road. They would probably be Long Road Trippers, bound for the far northern country. The kid always found those folks interesting. Sometimes they were from distant lands, come to experience the wonders of these rural mountains. They would have different sorts of dress, modified of course for back-country travel. They would bring strange and exciting things to trade in the markets sometimes too, purchasing their essentials with wondrous and valuable coinage. It wasn't only for people-watching that he spent his days about the square though. He would moon about the center of town, exploring and drawing in his sketchbook. Occasionally a vendor or traveler would give him a treat like a piece of candy or sweetbread. Sometimes they would give him a trinket from their journeys, which was usually better because he could sell it, buy a treat, and still have some money left over. Watching the crew at their hauler, he wondered what kinds of things they were carrying.

His mom would be gone at work most of the day, as she was most days. He didn't mind her schedule: they had a warm and close relationship as it was just the two of them at home, and a lack of supervision gave him a freedom about town when he wasn't forced to stay inside and study. They lived just beyond the edge of the Clearing, near the west road. It was a large township, with many visitors, and there was always something to entertain a young curious boy. At the same time though it was small enough that he could explore almost all of it with ease and safety. Unbeknownst to him as he went about his days, the townsfolk kept a communal protective eye on the local kid.

He was feeling lazy today. The morning home-work had been a slog, trying to read and remember facts and formulas he didn't care about learning. It felt much better to just sit out here in the sun by the warmth of the marketplace rock, watching the world. The usual vendors had set up in rows close to the base of the boulder, leaving a dusty gathering space in the center. From his vantage point he looked down at the northern row; stalls flanking a wide path to the plaza where the hauler van was parked. It was a calm morning, with only a few people moving about the square. Looking at the various sellers, something caught his eye. He noticed that the owner of one stall was having difficulty in setting up for the day. They were evidently late to get to the square, and something had gone wrong as well with their tent supports. The vendor was alone, and the kid realized he recognized them from previous visits to the market. They were usually here with another person, but today seemed to be setting up all by themselves. It was not going well at all for them, and they seemed to be actually on the point of breaking when a young woman walking by stopped to help. She held the opposite end of the tent-stall, allowing the vendor to secure the damaged support. She even seemed to help make an extra strong brace so the tent would be stable. The vendor looked immensely touched by the help, and sank down on a chair saying something the kid could not hear.

Despite not being able to hear what they spoke of, the kid could tell the effect of the conversation that followed. There was something about the presence of the young woman. Something about her facial countenance or the way she held the energy of the space seemed to make the vendor open up to her. She had stepped in to help without a second thought, and had lent her expertise in a way that did not force itself upon the other. She listened to the troubles of this stranger, whatever they might be, and left them with what looked to the kid like a feeling of hope. There was a power to this young woman he realized, one which did not often come through the Clearing. It was the power of a leader, not one who seeks ruling office, but one who quietly does the work of helping the world to right itself. She held a command of her energy that allowed her to be wholly of service to another without losing or breaking herself to the process.

As the kid watched her return to her party (coincidentally the group at the hauler), he thought there should be more people like her in the world. He saw her interact with the others, and saw her power reflected in their own. They each had their own kind of energy he realized, harmonizing together. By being together they could better grow, inflecting in more and more complex patterns. The kid blinked and shook his head a bit. The thoughts that had arisen from watching the young woman were confusing. Maybe, he thought, if he could one day become like her, then maybe he would understand them.

Northwind

 

The inn sat high on an open ledge overlooking the road. On the opposite side, the trees reached barely five feet above the traveled way, sweeping their dark ranks down the steep lower summit cone. Beyond there was only sky. The preceding evening was streaked with the barest of clouds, and the inhabitants of the Northwind Inn had been treated to a most spectacular sunset. Ayleah let her gaze stray to the north, where other mountain peaks raised shoulders in their own attempts to reach the heights. They stood in rank and file, arranged like standing waves approaching the western glow. Down to the west the valleys darkened as the sun's rays angled more and more away, but the other peaks shared in the special stance; they watched as all the rest of the world went to sleep. It was rarefied air, that of the mountaintop, and she felt privileged to partake in such a view.

The couple that had been sharing the porch with her, albeit in their own world the whole time, finally got up and went inside. Ayleah had barely enough time to wonder if she would be alone out here when Telon came through the door.

“How's the air out here tonight?” He asked, seeing her sitting in one of the chairs.

“Rarefied. Please join me, it's quite a lot to handle on one's own.” She indicated one of the chairs next to her.

Telon walked across and sat down. “This view is pretty extraordinary. I'm glad we ended up here for one of our nights. I'd heard of this inn, and always wanted to visit. It would have been reason enough to come up to the Lion's Seat.”

“I'm going to miss these mountain vistas.” Ayleah said, gazing out at the shimmer of water far away. “Are you sure you don't want to stay on this summit for a while? I know you've wanted to come here for a long time.”

Telon waved her concern away. “No no, you've made your decision and I think that it's wise we stick to the plan. This will not be the last time I ascend this peak.”

There was a period of silence while both of them watched the last glow of the sun turn from burnt orange into violet and then a dusky blue.

“Do you think Angelica would have really kept me there against my will?” Ayleah's question floated into the twilight air. “I know she was duplicitous, but I still feel poorly about how we had to leave...after her undeniable hospitality I mean.” she looked at Telon. “Is she really a bad person?”

“No, she is not.” he replied. “Angelica has a good heart, and no shadow of ill-intent about her. I know you have encountered those of real maliciousness and can feel the difference for yourself. No, what Angelica falls prey to is a trap that any human would fall for. Many do, in fact, and unfortunately do not have as good a heart as hers. The trap is that of discovering your own power and thinking then that it is the only solution to the world's problems. She is powerful, and her energy is necessary for the healing of this world, but she does not yet see that it is only one part of that process.”

Ayleah thought for a moment, then said. “How can I make sure I don't fall for that trap? I can feel the pull at my ego even now to grow in proportion to my strength. How can I make sure my heart is in the right place?”

Telon half-grinned. “The good news is that if you are asking that question, then you are probably already in a pretty good place. You don't have to worry too much about that Ayleah. I'm probably biased, but also I think you know your energy well-enough to know where and how it belongs. I think you have a true sense of wanting to use it to help others.”

“What if I should have stayed with Angelica though? Maybe she was right, and there was some great good we could have done, influencing the energy of the world behind the scenes.”

“Ayleah, you told me you felt there was someplace that needed your energy soon. When you told me you were needed in the river-lands, it was a sign to me that you knew your path. You are needed in the Winniaska Valley, I saw it too, and sense that something is occurring down there. You know that your energy is for a different path than Angelica's. Trust in that inner sense, trust in that path.”

“What do you think she'll do?” Ayleah asked, after a moment.

“We'll have to wait and see. Perhaps her workings will influence ours in some way. Angelica works directly with the essence of the world, and communes with its energies to shape reality from the inside. That way can become too potent, and too self-referential.” He yawned, and turned to Ayleah more directly. “Use your power to make changes closer to the surface. Diffuse your energy through a community where it can then have direct effects on others. Meditate on the difference in potency that technique might have.” He stood, and made to go back inside. “And now I think I must go to bed. The day was wonderful, but I have-” and he yawned again. “-Goodnight Ayleah.”

Ayleah watched him cross the porch again. “'Night Telon. And thank you for your guidance, I always appreciate it.” He gave her a small nod before opening the door.

The sky was almost completely dark now, and a few stars were starting to show. Ayleah smiled softly to herself, thinking of her path to the river-lands. For a few minutes before she also went inside there was no-one else on the porch to share the view, but she didn't feel alone.

From the journal of Avani, Summit Caretaker:

 

It has been nearly four whole moons since I arrived at this peak, and my shift as caretaker is almost complete. I have no doubt I will return for a future shift: the experience has been overall wonderful. This is a special place, one whose wonders are even more rare for the uniqueness of the ecosystem in which they are found. Awaking in the summitlands of this mountain, one might imagine it a desert, or some far-northern tundra landscape. The expanse of rocks and grassy pools feels more like an illustration from a textbook than like any real sort of place. It is so different from anywhere else, and raised above so that it sits like an island in the sky. It could be that this was what early explorers described when they told tales of heaven at the end of some long travel.

The summitlands are not heaven, though they do come close enough in many cases. They have inhabitants, mortal as you and I, going about small lives in the rocky meadows and hidden places. Delicate gardens abound on the ledges, giving proof that this is no desert either. The permanent inhabitants of such an intrepid place have done well over generations to tend to the gardens and lawns, preserving any species of plant that can succeed in these conditions. At the times when the storms blow, this zen-garden village shelters in its holes, locked firmly against the howling wind. Such vicious weather has struck this peak in my time here that I have understood the persistence of local religious beliefs. I have mentioned before in this journal about the complex belief structure that permeates this mountain community but the feelings become much more simplified in the raw face of a storm. A part of me shall be glad to see trees reaching far above my head once again.

When the days are clear however, this place is a sort of paradise. If it were not for the trials of the everyday, I might have thought once or twice that I had truly passed on to the other side. It makes me wonder at the difference in worldly perception between those who reside here full-time and those who only come for a short visit. Sometimes during my days as caretaker I have met with people who have come from one of the valley cities on a sightseeing trip. It only takes a few days for them to reach this spot. If they have a well-equipped repulsar vehicle, it is relatively easy for them to transport themselves to a wholly different ecosystem. I wonder if they can see how special it is; how unique its energies are. I am not the best reader of energy, not coming close to some of the scholars I've met up here on their retreats, but I can tell when a place is this powerful. Whatever this place is called, Seat of the Moose, or Seat of the Lion, it has long drawn people to its lofty rocks. It will continue to do so, pulling me back again in time. It will be good to return: I have not yet finished exploring the numerous crevices of the open summitlands. Each cave and secret meadow is a hidden treasure. Some are remote enough that they do not even have a hermit cottage to tend to them, or the dwelling has been long-since abandoned. What do the hermit sages seek up here, and would I even know if I found it as well?

There was a set of siblings that came through today, bound for the north. They did not stay, intending to make for the Northwind Inn tonight, but we shared some conversation and I found them to be delightful company. The two brothers were a jovial pair, resourceful and weathered by their experience on the road. They shared stories from the peaks down south, relating the natures of various summits. They said there had been some bare and open to the sky, but none quite as grand as this one. I myself, have heard of only two other mountains in the larger range with open tops like this. One of them, Mt. Abrahim, featured in their stories. They spoke of the community there, the types of sages they had seen, and of a gorgeous farm they had stopped at for lunch. At this, one of their traveling companions perked up, saying she had probably seen them at the time and hadn't remembered. The coincidences of the road are always a treat.

In addition to the brothers' sister, they seemed to be traveling with two other companions. One was a scholar, probably from the Queen City metro area by the look of his dress. The other though was a young woman who seemed close to the scholar and was likely an apprentice of some kind. At first it confused me to think that they were together with the three siblings because she had such a different air to the rest of them. The scholar at least seemed normal, for his kind. He was kind, but held a fierceness in reserve that revealed a shrewd and learned mind. The girl (though she was probably not much younger than myself) however had an unnerving potency about her. There was an inner fire that seemed to gently bubble under her surface, manifesting through her intentions and actions. Even I could sense her difference, but the others, if they did, seemed not to pay it much care. I have not often felt that way around another person, and I wonder how much she feels of that fire. What do people do with their power once they know that it is there for the using? Where will the world take this young woman, and perhaps more importantly, where will she take the world?

Meral

 

At the glen township of Mont-Clair, the sights, sounds and general atmosphere of working life filled the forest. Smells abounded in the scene: the peaty smoke of fires for the smith and the huntsman, the acrid funk of animal and sweat, and the sweet waftings of fresh brew, fine meat, and subtle woodland produce. A large tent, erected to the side of the main square, promised some regulation over the proceedings - Mont-Clair was one of the rural townships which often hosted an official presence from the valley cities. Regional groups regularly dispatched ambassadors to some of the more prominent mountain townships where it was deemed helpful to have an outside coordinator. These towns commanded large areas of natural resource and presided over some of the more unique landscapes known to the Imperium offices, and so oversight of their activities was required. Caretakers, as they were called, had little direct connection to the Imperium but served a key purpose as an impartial mediator for trade and governance in the remote places.

The central square of the glen lay split by the dome of a large rock. The boulder served as a landmark, carved and marked by years of village life. Overlooking the rock, the main town structure served as a modern marketplace and home for many who lived in Mont-Clair. Like Birch Glen it was practically a small city, fully enclosed by wooden walls and covered with a sturdy roof. The outer open spaces held the camps of less-than-savory merchants or those who shunned dense social populace. All was within view of the caretaker's tent though, so one could feel relatively safe walking about the town.

On the north-east side of the village, where it edged close to a small ravine, a heavy-duty hauler sat canted slightly to one side. A young man pulled himself back out from under the vehicle and stood up, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Well, I do hope that Nathan's having some luck up at the market. I don't think there's anything more I can do for that repulsar.” Jaen said, breaking the news of his efforts to Thomas. “And if it were me, I definitely wouldn't attempt crossing over the Lion with it in this condition. Those are some nasty ledges and you're going to need all the grip you can get.”

The eldest Ravael sibling frowned slightly, thinking over the situation. “Well, then I have to share your hope.” he said, looking around at the Glen. “I'm not too keen on getting stranded in this place...or tackling those ledges on foot.”

Up in the town building, the hopes of Jaen and Thom were proving true. Searching the small but crowded and bustling village, Nathan had come across a man selling what they needed. It could barely be considered a scrapyard, but one of the three old vans he had up for parts was still mostly in mint condition. Nathan happily paid for an entire repulsar unit, complete with lens and regulator, that was even a touch better than their other working ones. He set it on a borrowed cart and headed for the building's exit, looking casually for his sister as he went. Meral's presence inside the village center wasn't apparent, so he left for their camp. He knew she would turn up eventually, and it was not a moment after having that thought that he saw her outside. She sat off a little ways on a rock bench with her journal, watching the people going about the square.

From her seat, Meral could see where the southern mountain road entered the village. It came down a slope thick with bushy ferns and shaded by twisted birch trees. Most of the road carved a deep course into the mountainside, but it turned at one point allowing her to see travelers upon it as they passed a crest in the land. The little window was like a preview of who or what energy would enter the village nexus, or a brief image of one that had just left. She found the mixing of people and energies most interesting. Each center of life-activity was made up of different little energetic aspects, like pieces of food in a stew. They held their own, as independent entities, but also contributed to the emergent quality of the whole. That whole only existed through the actions of its parts in a close relation to each other and was changing all the time. It was a buzzing assemblage, the frequency created by the qualities of the energetic parts. Humans, entering a system like that carried in with them whole other systems and so had extremely complex effects of the energy of the new larger whole. The forces involved in a human settlement like this could be highly complicated, but people went about interacting with the system without much care for their responsibilities in doing so. Life was so innate as to be invisible; taken for granted.

In the little window of road before her, Meral saw two travelers. One was a wandering scholar, with sparse pack and bedroll on his back. He walked casually, but Meral knew that he was keenly aware of his surroundings. With a walking staff in hand and his blue hood drawn up he looked to her like a wizard from the ancient histories. He gave off a quiet power, but her eye was swiftly drawn to his companion. Behind him walked a young woman, clad in a belted rangers jacket open at the top to show a familiar reddish shirt. She had an air about her that astonished Meral. This woman was one she recognized, and yet did not. It was a new Ayleah that passed in front of her eyes, and the glance had been too brief to ascertain the precipitating reason. All she knew was that the traveler she had just seen carried with her a vibrancy; a bearing of empowerment that shone in a visible way.

When they arrived a few moments later, the Ravael sister made sure to direct Telon and Ayleah's steps to the siblings' campsite, and they all spent a nice evening catching up with their former traveling partners. The Ravaels were intrigued by what had happened with Angelica, and gladly welcomed the two scholars back into the fold. As they had replaced the faulty repulsar unit on the hauler, they were well-equipped for the next part of their journey, and excited to set out the next day.

Jaen however, did not join in their evening, as he had earlier left the Ravaels to their own devices. Seeing their vehicle fixed, he had set about imminently to leave and circle back around towards his duties in the south. As he departed down the forest road, he had a sense to look back at the Glen now well above his track. There was a feeling of change; of a chapter ending or beginning. He had had the same empty feeling before, but this time something reached out, through the turning of time and held on to a piece of him as he moved away. It was a warm and hopeful feeling, and Jaen smiled softly to himself.

Sunlit Grove

 

The little clearing was lit with bright sunbeams that filtered through the spruce canopy. The golden light illuminated mossy terrain and small rock outcroppings. It dappled the simple cairn at the side of the clearing, itself grown over with reaching lichens. Caught in their finite world of the beams were dancing mites, barely there but for movement. A pair of large yellow butterflies lazily flapped their way across the open woods, to all appearances aimless in their flight. There, on the gently-warmed rock and moss, Telon and his apprentice sat in meditation. The day had proved clear and beautiful, if not as hot as might be expected for such bright sun. The two traveling scholars felt totally refreshed, having left the manipulations of Angelica well behind.

They had paid thanks to their driver near the summit of Mt. Etan, as he had business in the local township and planned to remain in the summitlands for the day. The larger glen township of Mont-Clair was near enough, and Telon figured they could hire passage onward from there, so they took a moment to sit and regroup. The two had still not had a chance to talk properly since reuniting, and Ayleah could tell Telon had something important to share with her. They found a quiet open space on the north peak and sat in the pleasant air to discuss more details of their separate adventures. Ayleah told Telon of the attack at the trailhead and her interaction with the man in black and his mirrors. She told him about Kae-ri and the various strange occurrences in her life over the past eight or ten moons. Telon listened with great interest, and told her in his turn of what he had been practicing at Burnt Rock. He spoke of how he had been transported there, and what he had gotten out of being able to study in such a power-saturated place. He seemed to start to say something else, but then suggested they both meditate for a short while and regather their energies.

-

Ayleah was the first to break the silence.

“What made you first take an interest in me?” she asked the blue-robed one across the rock from her.

Telon's mind flashed back to the marketplace at Silver Shores. He thought of how Davai had seemed to already know much of this would happen. “We shared a dream the night after I arrived at your village. We saw each other in the market square, and I think marked each other at that time. There is an innate automatic power people have in their gaze, and when two who have heightened sensibilities make contact...”

“But I wasn't very aware of all that at the time, I only learned most of the energetic stuff at the Sanctuary.” Ayleah cut in. “What is it about me that makes people see me as special?”

Telon glanced away, and looked back again with a faint smile. “You're exceptionally well-connected to, and perceptive of the energetic realm.”

Ayleah looked skeptical. “There are scholars that are far more in tune than I am though. Just by their capabilities, if nothing else. Whatever 'prodigious' power I might have, it still pales in comparison to someone like you or the head sages at the Dome. I've never been to the Queen Cities, but I'm sure there are powerful people there as well.”

“There is a difference.” the blue-robed scholar explained. “I am skilled, yes, at working with the world. I, and many of my colleagues are very good at working with reality, and knowing how to flow alongside and through its patterns. You though, are more powerful than I think you realize. In your efforts to understand and work with reality, you are actually actively shaping it to fit your energies.” He paused here for a breath, and began again with a new tone. “Remember a through-line in all your teachings: we are not separate from the world, but an integral piece of it. It is important for the scholars to understand that we are a part of reality so that we can direct and steer our intentions harmoniously. For us, learning to work with reality is like learning to control a boat on a river. You though, act as a nexus upon that river, pulling the surrounding currents in to support your direction. It's actually quite incredible, and I have yet to meet another with that innate sort of connection and power.”

“What are you saying? I'm not an elemental, like Kae-ri though. I'm...human...-solid-whatever!”

Telon's voice became gentle, but his faint smile had returned. “True, true, but you're not not an elemental.”

Ayleah had the strange sensation of her world collapsing into the space of her consciousness and at the same time her awareness expanding to fill the whole world. It was a fragile but strangely liberating feeling.

“How...how have I been shaping my reality?” she asked, when she was finally able.

“Have you ever heard of the literary device called the Hero's Journey?” Telon replied. “It can be found in uncountable works of mythology and fiction as a basic framework for the story. Some main character embarks on a journey of symbolic self-discovery. Along the way they meet with a mentor, they engage in a series of ordeals in a special world, or one different from their own. Eventually, they gain a certain mastery and ascend back into their “ordinary world” as a sort of glorious homecoming. The story has roots in reality, but it is not intended to perfectly mirror reality. Real lives do not work out as tidily as those of our fictional stories.

Ayleah had the sense of a burgeoning realization. An idea was just now sparked by Telon's description of the literary device. “Wait, do you mean you think I've been creating my own destiny?” she asked.

“Well, we all create our own destiny,” Telon said, “but you seem to do so in a more literal sense. It is subtle, but so are all the ways of energy until they come down right upon our heads. I, Jaen, and most of the others in your life have unwittingly played a role in your story. Your energy is powerful enough that it has pulled their flows around yours at key moments for the service of the destiny you sought. Whether or not you knew it consciously, you placed yourself on this path and the world complied. Your power Ayleah, is in your story. It is an overlooked fact that stories are life; stories create life. Your curiosity has given birth to a story which has actually shaped a bit of the world. That is a direct power that the scholars of the Queen Cities would do anything to possess.”

The feelings of destruction and expansion increased in Ayleah. The more she wrapped her mind around the concept, the more incredible it seemed, and yet it explained every decision she had made since she could remember. Times when she had acted seemingly against the character of her being, times when she had acted impulsively, with no thought except a feeling that the action needed doing. She struggled with the idea that her life could be so pre-programmed and yet be decided by her own intentions. How could she be free and as powerful as he was saying if she was tied to a destiny that pulled everyone else in to its current? She felt pulled and pushed at the same time, boxed in and exploded all over the mountainside. Everything felt resolved, but dispersed into chaos at the same time. She felt lost, and a tear wet the top of her cheek. She blinked, and shook her head slightly. “It doesn't...make sense.” she managed.

Telon's reply held the utmost compassion. “The most profound parts of life often remain paradoxes even when we reach a full understanding of them. I tell you these things only so that you have a fair chance. Knowing the truth of how you are is the only way of having a chance to decide differently. I believe in you Ayleah, especially after what you've told me about your travels. I believe you can use your power for whatever destiny you want. And if you see this story out to the end, I think you'll do well too.”

Ayleah looked back at him, feeling bolstered by the peacefulness of her surroundings. Telon continued: “The question put before you now, before us, is this: What do we wish to do, now that we have this knowledge?”

Ayleah shut her eyes, listening to the forest and the sounds of the mountain township wafting through the trees. She felt the breeze, and noted for not the first time its curious lack of warmth. A minute passed in silence, maybe more, but when she opened her eyes she saw Telon had been meditating as well. She looked at him and he opened his eyes. “There's somewhere I have to be, some moment I'm needed for, isn't there?”

Telon softly nodded.

After the two had left the clearing and begun their way down the mountain to the village glen, a large yellow butterfly landed on the mossy cairn. It slowly waved its wings a couple times before taking off and continuing on its way. The golden sunlight shone on the cairn and its lichen as it had for many days since, and as it would for many days to come.

Escape

 

Ayleah woke with a start from swiftly-fading dreams. Dawn had not come yet; the room was still dark, but something else had brought her up her awareness. For a moment her mind strayed half in the remembrances of the dream that had been there before and half in the concrete reality. Telon was leaning over her, urging quiet, and for her to get up and dressed. It took a second for her to figure out that this was part of the concrete and not a reclaiming of sleep and its images.

“Quickly now, I don't know what alerts she may have put about the cottages.” His whispered voice cut through her stupor, and suddenly her memory was vivid with the threat from the previous afternoon. As she heard Telon's steps leave the room, she sprung into action, but found her traveling clothes at the ready, and the rest of her belongings already packed and neatly by the door. In the dark room, Ayleah moved with a quietude of mind and body. She knew haste was needed, but also that she should be careful with her energy. A person such as Angelica had sensitivities. Not only would she know if someone nearby had awakened, but Ayleah thought she could probably sense it from anywhere on this summit. One had to pull one's own energy close about their person, releasing it in a measured way through their actions. Normally, a person's energy vibrated out in all directions, with concentrations only based on their intentions and movements. To remain more covert, one had to control that energy, limit it to the skin level, and release the excess in targeted places where it could be absorbed softly and without notice. It felt a bit like holding your breath, and required a subtlety of bearing and self-awareness. Ayleah considered it quite fortunate that the practice had come up in the course of her previous education.

When she stepped outside, closing the door gently behind her, Telon was immediately by her side. He shone softly in the darkness like a door of indigo among the shadows, his hood up and nearly covering any sight of his eyes. He gestured to Ayleah that she should stay silent and keep very close to him. As they made their way through the night-cloaked village, Ayleah sharpened her senses. The houses and ruins were quiet, and it seemed too still for as nice a night as it was. No moon lit the sky, but the stars glowed brilliantly, winking around the dark shapes of the fir trees. It would have almost made her breathe easier if there were some mysterious rustling in the bushes or movement in the black branches. It was only when they had fully left the old burn-scarred clearings that something did scurry away from their path.

The two of them walked for the rest of the night, keeping to their agreed-upon silence. Ayleah worked to keep up with Telon's long strides, which seemed to carry them along faster than she would have thought. An upcoming landmark on the road that looked to be at least twenty steps away would be reached in no more than five. Ayleah had noticed before how things often looked different at night. Colors faded to gray-scale with the lack of light, but distance, and speed also felt funny. Moving through a landscape at night always felt faster than in the day. She wondered if perhaps it had to do with a loss of proper distance perception. Without the play of shadows and color she could not tell as well how far away things were. Telon did naturally take long steps though, and when they finally stopped to rest a bit her legs were glad of the pause.

Telon didn't dare stop though until the two of them had passed beyond the immediate bubble of Angelica's peak-bound aura. At a small seep that divided the land, as the sky was barely beginning to light, they took a break. As Ayleah watched Telon set about recovering his energies from the effort, she thought about the relation scholars had to the land. There were plenty of people who lived right with the land, and engaged in practices that were more nitty-gritty and druidic in nature. True druids did live in these mountains as well, and any number of hermetic witches and farmers with a family background of spellcraft in one form or another. The scholars like Telon though pointed to a deeper sort of work, and a deeper truth to the matter. The scholars engaged with the land through theory and esoteric ritual. They communed with the land's energies without fully immersing themselves in its rawness. It was as if they sought inner knowledge of the world, of which those druidic powers of the dirt were too close to perceive. Ayleah watched as Telon took water from the spring. He took some and filtered it for their use, but then also placed a drop on his forehead and one on his heart. He took dry dirt from the forest floor and let it drop in the light breeze, then smudged the wet spot off his forehead with one finger. To work with the land is to also work with oneself, she thought. To respect the land is to understand that we are a part of it as well. If we want to use or tie to its energies we must understand and respect our own. We must think about how our energies come together, where their intentions lie, and how that combined intentional power will affect and mix with those of the natural kinds. Land-craft is just as much a kind of “self-craft” as any of the other scholarly disciplines, despite its outwardly focused nature. The truth was this: that all people worked and lived in this relationship, not just the scholars, witches, and hermits. Ayleah could see that everyone had a connection to land, even if just to the small plot on which they live. The land supports everyone, and gives energy to everyone through resistance and growth. In this way all people are engaged in the magical relationship, whether they know it or not.

Once the sun had risen, the two scholars were able to hitch a ride further north with a driver bound for Mt. Etan. He was out early, and had frankly just been glad to hear they had no business down the southward road. In the back of his work-truck there was an air of security, and Ayleah found herself able to get in some of her missing hours of sleep. Telon remained on a passive alert, but inwardly was glad of the chance to relax. He let out a sigh as they climbed the next hill, fully immersed now in the energy of a different mountain. Outside, a pretty spruce forest passed, intermingled with the yellow-green tops of birches and maple against a thinly-clouded sky.