A Dream

That night Ayleah dreamed of the bluebird. It perched in the upper branches of a red bush, its head darting around, looking around at the world. A soft murmur sounded out of vision, and the bird took off. It flew out over a wide open meadow, a weird place, where only shadows of trees stood out against the far horizon. The grass was very tall and immensely thick; a jungle-like canopy that made the land seem like an ocean of brown and green blades. She could not tell how far down the ground was through all that green; her feet only hovered a few inches above the top of the grasses. She looked for the bluebird, but it was lost from her vision.

In his traveler's cabin, Telon dreamed as well. He dreamed of a green and golden light that covered his brain, and that his bed sheet had become a blanket of moss and earth. As he rolled it back, he grew into the sunlight and rose until his feet brushed the tips of the grasses. It was a pleasant dream. There was a light breeze, and the sun was out. “There you are, my blue friend.” A voice, and Telon could see a figure walking towards him along the top of the grass. The man was dressed in light and a robe of swirling greens. “This isn't the real thing, of course”, he gestured around at the field, “but maybe now you'll want to come and visit.”

Telon squinted at the robed man. “Davai, is that you?” If he truly was dreaming about his childhood friend, then there was a chance this wasn't a normal dream. Davai smiled “Yes, yes it is. It's been a while.”

“Twenty years, in fact.” Telon said. “You went off to join a monastery or something, I assumed that might be the last I'd ever hear from you.”

“Still there, well, still here” Davai said. “You should really come and visit us.” he gave Telon a look: “And when I say that, I don't just say it. This is a dream-visitation after all.”

Telon chuckled. “I suppose it is pretty compelling. It looks beautiful here.” The wind ruffled the grasses that stretched into the horizon, and a couple larger clouds dimmed the light for a moment. “Does Lucan know anything about what's been going on?” Telon asked.

Davai took a long slow breath while gazing at the horizon, a slight glint in his eyes. “The land always provides answers. We must learn on our own how to ask the right questions.”

He gave a small bow, and made as if to turn and leave. “Oh, and when you do visit, you should bring your apprentice with you. There is something here for her.”

Telon looked curious: “So you are keeping secrets from me” he laughed. “And here I had no idea I even had an apprentice. When do I meet her?” Davai smiled, “I thought you had already. Worry not, currents will flow together. May your way find peace.” He put his hands together, and only a scrap of bark drifted to the ground.

The wind lifted, and Telon's breath caught in his mouth. There was a pulling inward, and a hollow sound before a comforting darkness. The dream dissolved.

Ayleah woke with a start, the gaze of the man in green still fixed in her mind.

Telon

The fabric of his hood was wearing a little thin, he noticed. A bit of its hem was visible at the top of his vision, and he could see the sunlight through the blue fibers. It was not even originally intended for that much warmth, and he didn't need it in such clear sun. It was more of a costume he supposed; a sign of office. Still, it would have to be replaced soon. A primary benefit of the hood was that fewer people could see his face right now. He had traveled a long way down the lake-shore, but until he could get inland, he was less than safe. Who knows what agents could have trailed him here, and what they might do if they found him.

Telon was a rational man, and had no need of conspiracies in his life, but the series of events over the last couple weeks, culminating with a warrant for his arrest issued by his own Principal, would lead anyone to make some startling conclusions. That he could not go back to the Queen City, that much was certain. Some part of his research had ruffled the feathers of shady groups in the metro area, and without knowing more, a return north would be suicide.

The local college had been of some help, but had also introduced a host of new questions. While the dusty tomes he had scoured the previous two days confirmed his suspicion of shadowy controlling factors in the Queen City, they failed to be clear on the nature or reasoning behind these factors. There was something at the heart of the struggle for power, something beyond mere civil control. If there was a conspiracy to run things behind the scenes, then why Telon wondered, had his research become a target? The sources used mystical language and gave no clear answers.

For the past three years he had merely been cataloging features of the local landscape. His goal was to add to the existing knowledge of flora and fauna, details of the landscape in order to get a more cohesive picture of the environments in which people live. He also wanted to highlight any places that seemed special, whether from uniqueness, historical value, or just a sense of the atmosphere of the particular spot. Despite keeping excellent notes, and doing due diligence in the publishing proceedings, numerous issues kept arising that kept him from getting the research published. A manuscript was lost in the mail, a printing machine had failed just that morning, or the paper was not of the right stock, etc. Finally, he decided to self-publish the work as a casual guidebook on the metropolitan library network. It would get less notoriety, but at least the information could be shared. The next day an anonymous tip came just in time. He had only had enough time to gather some necessities and get around the corner from his apartment before the authorities were at his door. Most of his pocket money went to a captain at the beach, and a rather choppy boat ride had brought him, a few days later, to the College of the Silver Shores, where he had hoped to find some answers.

Now he sat here, in the bright midday sun of the market square, gazing out towards the open water of the lake and trying to put an order to his thoughts. Around him the bustle of the village's day went on. Rough-looking men moved freight up from the port and into tunnels in the rock that led to other docks down below by the water. Sages from the college conversed with students on broad grassy lawns on the side of the hill. Townsfolk of all kinds mingled about, either hurrying along one of the steep roads between the port and the hilltop, or browsing the market stalls in the square. The air was calm and pleasant; a gull cried here and there. Telon felt the wind shift slightly. The breeze seemed to gently urge him to put his cares aside. Whatever cabal sought his end, it was not in this place. He breathed deeply and removed his hood. As the fabric dropped, he noticed two figures enter the scene.

A father and daughter were walking across the square toward the metalworkers' stands. The daughter was almost a young woman, and carried a bookbag.. She must have just gotten out of her morning classes. The father was nodding and responding as they walked, evidently hearing something of her day. As they passed in front of where Telon sat, the father laughed, and the daughter pointed to a man talking some distance away with a group of portsmen. Now she had dashed over towards him, calling his name:

“Tormund! Hey Tormund!” she stopped abruptly when the object of her calls turned around. This man was more neatly dressed than the father, and clearly did not work at the craftsmens' stalls. His doublet featured a triangle-shaped badge that caught the light.

“Ayleah,” Tormund smiled, “and a good day to you as well.”

“I had just wondered, are you going to be going to be crossing the point soon?” Her father caught up and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Please forgive my daughter, this business with the ship has gotten her pretty excited.”

Tormund made a forgiving gesture. “It's fine, it's the same question I've been getting from everyone else in the village. The elders reckon I only need to make the case to the Park people, but I should leave as soon as possible.”

John nodded. “I hope they can resolve this. I would hate to see the matter taken into some metropolis court. I mean, we're all broken up about what happened, but sometimes such is the will of the land.”

“Yeah,” Tormund said, “that's the general sentiment...”

Their talk turned to other things, commerce of the week, the state of feuds, the College's response to it all...and Ayleah's attention wavered. She saw a bit of blue in the corner of her eye and turned to see a man in a blue robe sitting some distance off. His hair was trimmed short, and he was maybe a little younger than her father, but it was the robe that intrigued her. Sometimes the elders would wear robes, especially for special occasions. The only other people she had seen wearing robes were the college professors, and theirs were always clean and decorated with the symbols of their positions. This mans robe was plain, and dirty like he'd been hiking or sailing while wearing it. Despite its less than pristine state, the color shown through with an indomitable strength. A pure, deep blue like still water without a bottom. His eyes were a piercing gray, and she looked away as soon as she caught them.

“Okay Tormund, we'll let you be getting on.” her father's voice brought her back to the conversation, and she gave a nod: “Good luck on your trip Tormund.” The village marshal wished both of them well, and went on his way.

There was something Ayleah had wanted to ask her father, but she couldn't remember what it was now. John continued to lead the way into the market stalls. “Come on Ayleah, help me find something good for dinner. We'll be late for your afternoon classes if I start chatting again.”

Dinner and a Class

“When you come back up, bring some more pepper-seed. We're running low.”

John raised his hand in a sign of acknowledgment to his wife as he disappeared into the cellar.

Now that he was out of the room, her thoughts crept back in. Or rather, she was more easily aware of that underlying concern that had set in since the accident. The town leaders knew the ship captain could be serious trouble. If he pressed charges out in a metropolis, a best case scenario would mean a relocation of their entire village. It would be a blow to their economy, to say nothing of the social consequences. And all this threat, despite the reparations already given the captain by the town. It was a awful accident, but the ship had simply been in that exact spot at the exact worst time. No decree from the elders could ever undo that part of time.

The wooden door sounded, John had returned from the cellar.

“Has Ayleah not returned yet? There's a pretty hard rain starting.”

Kaitlyn glanced up from the carrots she was chopping and out the window. “I think that's her, just now. She must have seen it coming in over the water.” The carrots went into a pot, along with some of the fresh pepper-seed. “Thanks.”

John collected settings and headed for their table. “I hope she's been keeping safe out on her ledges there. After the other day, they've had inspectors all over the cliffs, checking the supports. Hard to trust some of those outcroppings.”

“Oh, you know she's careful John. She's been going out there practically her whole life. I wouldn't be surprised if she knew more about the structure of those rocks than either of us.”

The front door opened just long enough for Ayleah to get inside in a swirl of rain-soaked wind. Blinking, she pulled off her wet boots and breathed the satisfying warm air of home.

“Quite a gale whipping up out there!” her mother approached, eyebrows raised at the sight of her daughter's wet clothes. “You know, your jacket only keeps the rain out if you fasten it up.”

Ayleah shrugged. “I know, I thought I could get back in time, but it really started raining hard. It looked really neat out there across the lake.” she took off her coat and went to get cleaned up. When she returned, she gave an appreciative visit to the nearly-finished soup, and took her place at the table by her father.

“How were the woods today?” John asked.

“There was too much fog to properly see them.” Ayleah said, as if it were a normal conversational response. “Everything was a gray void, until the rain came. I thought I could see the other side, but then it sent wind to chase me away from the shore.”

Her father smiled. “I know you're pretty careful out there. Let me know if you see any rock or edge that looks unstable. You come right away and tell me, understand?” A knowing look passed from him to her. “Yeah,” she said “I understand.”

Their dinner finished, the talk had turned inevitably to the ship captain's threats.

“Will Tormund go to make a report?” Ayleah asked. She had often heard of their village Marshal Tormund going into some city when important communication was needed between the township and their sponsor-city authority.

“Most likely” Kaitlyn replied, “but we're hoping the whole situation can be resolved right here in Silver Cove.” she looked at John. “What have you heard the folk saying? Is there hope for a settlement?”

John sighed. “You know how these city folk are Kait, they don't think anything of a little village on some quiet shore of the northern lake. They've been to so many ports they've become accustomed to easy safe harbors. This is just the kind of thing that they would try to use to get our port shut down for good.”

“We can't let that happen!” Ayleah exclaimed. Kaitlyn smiled at her. “Don't worry, we're not going to let that happen. And even if the southern merchants don't want to trade with us anymore, we'll always have our port. We don't need them anyway. Let them go to their beaches and muddy coves. We'll be just fine up here.”

“Aye,” John said, finishing his cup, “our little community will always be here. We're meant to be here, on our little bit of paradise, and no one is taking that away.”

Kaitlyn returned from cleaning up the table “And now, Ayleah, it is time you got some sleep. You've had a big day out with the clouds, and you have classes early tomorrow.” Ayleah gave a little sigh. “Okay mom.” she said and, with a hug for both of them, she went off to get ready for bed.

Outside, the rainstorm whirled around their house in the side of the rocky hill. The sounds of the wind mixed with the crash of the dark waves far below the little village. A cup of tea in her hand, Kaitlyn settled into a seat by her husband. Their fire was well stocked, and a comforting glow of heat spread from the grating by conduction to the inner walls of the house. John looked at Kaitlyn in the low lighting. “You know Kait, I think she's ready.”

Kaitlyn gave a half-smile. “You're probably right, though I haven't wanted to admit it. Between her classes and all those explorations she does out on the rocks, she's learning a lot.”

“There's not a whole lot more her classes can teach her.” John said “She'll have to make a decision soon: join a guild as an apprentice, or find a scholar willing to take her in at the college. Knowing her, she'll probably go the tradesperson route. Learn a skill and see some of the world while she's at it; that's what I did.” Kaitlyn touched his hand softly, playing with his rough fingers. “She's growing up so fast. There's a lot out there, in the world, but I think she's smart enough to make a great choice for herself.” she stood from the couch and made to gently pull John up after her. “Ask her if she's thought any about it tomorrow when you pick her up from class.” John got up, yawning a little. “I will. I'm sure she'll have a thought or two.” He turned down the last of the lights and followed his wife to bed.

The next morning in her class, Ayleah's mind wandered. The lesson was interesting enough, but her heart was always more tethered to her explorations in the woods and the hidden places in the rock ledges. She remembered a day, about a week ago, when she had ventured inland, to a grove where smaller twisted trees grew closely together. The taller ones were only about a hundred feet tall, so she could feel a bit of a canopy curving above. Light grasses grew here and there, intermingling with mossy rocks and decayed fallen leaves. Making her way through the grove, Ayleah couldn't tell if what she was feeling was a sense of wonder or fear. The damp, dense growth felt confined, yet full of life. The area exuded a busyness that didn't mind its restraints. It was a directionless anticipation that vibrated at too high a level for her awkward mortal form.

Trying to get past the grove and back into open woods, she paused at a point where the ground began to clear. The feeling of confinement had mostly passed, and breathing felt weirdly easier. A bird twittered somewhere behind her, and she had looked up to see a small form on a nearby branch. It was a bluebird, the sun glinted off its back for a brief second. It twittered again and took flight through the trees, disappearing in the mottled light. Ayleah turned and made her way from the denser grove up towards one of her favorite lookouts...

A question from the professor brought her back to present awareness, and away from the daydreams of sunbeams and birds. She made sure to get enough of the important stuff the teacher was saying in her notes and then returned to planning for the next adventure.

An Intro

Sparkles on the waves. The waves made the sparkles, and trailed them here and there among the play of the fathomless water. If you stared too long at the sparkles and the motion of the waves, none of it made sense anymore. It was like reality was only an interpretation of whatever stimulus really lies beneath. Above a careless sky weaves clouds across and through, hiding the sparkles, and the true nature of the world, in their distracting dance. Feet dangled in the air, unprecarious yet free. A ledge of light-colored rock stretching broken along a rough lake shoreline. Pebbles rising to crags, and topped with the forests and the marshes and the open lands. A northern country, rural and rugged. Metropolises are a thing far away, though there is civilization enough on these shores. Culture and local color thrive, and the land is abundant. On a particular stretch of the rocky coast, she is down the cliff a ways, on a ledge below the village square.

After some thought, it wasn't so bad the rock had fallen. Everyone in the village had known it would sooner or later, especially after the big storm a few nights ago. Over the weekend the elders had even posted a general warning not to go on that bit of land, since little was keeping it tethered to the cliff. There used to be a nice tree there too- it had gone with the rock when it fell; one of the twisty cedars that lined the local roads and protected their neighborhoods. The chunk of cliff falling to the sea hadn't been the problem. Nobody from the village was injured or lost anything of value. The problem was that it had fallen on a merchant ship from the south.

The Lake being such a grand and expansive waterway, merchants were a common sight at any port along its shores. Often traveling from the metropolises beyond the southern hills, they had always had a good relation with the smaller cities and settlements of the north. They were of a different sort though, socially. Quicker to temper and often backed by a healthy wallet, there was often a need for careful diplomacy in the trading agreements at the best of times. The recent destruction and devastation caused by a random chunk of falling rock had really muddled local affairs. The captain of the vessel (onshore at the time) demanded reparations in full for his lost ship and cargo, as well as an overwhelming additional payment for the “emotional burden” of the loss of most of his crew. He kept on to say he would take the entire village to high court for not maintaining the cliff-supports properly and endangering his life and livelihood. The college was responsible for maintaining the supports, but they had long ago announced plans to close that part of the cliff, and could not bear the demands of the captain either. The merchant talked as if it were the end of the village. If the whole town was taken to court, who would go? Tormund most likely, and how many would he take with him?

The thoughts swirled softly in the back of Ayleah's head as she gazed out at the dense fog. It was a good day for these types of thoughts, brooding and unsure. The fog had come in as thickening clouds until one could not see the shore across the lake. It was a gray day, broken only by the dark trunks of trees, black columns holding up the ceiling of the forest. Out there though, all was light. The clouds wrapped around her and the tree above her perch, embracing the whole world in a featureless gray. Below, the water stretched into that gray, until all seemed to merge into one open void; as above, so below; fog on water on fog.

She could feel the power there. There was always a feeling from the lake; that deep, ancient quality that scared her sometimes. On a day like this it was different though. The energy was quieter, and yet all-encompassing. There was no urge to jump into the void, because she was already in the void. It was full of endless possibility. The world beyond could be anything.

Ayleah's hand tightened ever so slightly on the rock. Her ledge was a stable thing. Chunks of rock stacked and built the whole shoreline, raising huge barren cliffs topped with the pleasant groves of her childhood. Thinking these big thoughts made the world seem unsteady, like none of it actually exists and if that's the case then how do we know which way is up? It helped, in the fog, to have some sort of stable ground; a touchstone for sane reality. The rock, a pale rust color, was crumbly, but spoke of an eternal solidity. It told a tale of active creation, transformation, and years of quietude. This bit of land seemed a pinnacle, bursting forth up into the primordial soup to show its occupants a glimpse behind the scenes. In this encapsulated world, the only thing that moved were the constant waves.

A small piece of rock broke off in Ayleah's hand. She felt the rawness of the earthy particles, dissolving their sharp edges into dirt. A harder chunk remained and, unable to contain the impulse, she threw it off the edge of the cliff. It arced long, and fell for an entire moment before hitting the water far below. Small ripples, the only evidence of the event, spread out into the invisible eternity.