Ayleah Journal Entry #3

 Telon gave me this nice little book, and said I should try keeping a journal, but I admit I forgot about it during the travels here and now I've barely written in it at all.

I've been at the Sanctuary for more than a year now, taking classes and experiencing the life of a (small, they tell me) city. Telon set me up in a dormitory on the upper floor and gave me a city card to cover my food, travel, and whatever else I might need while in the city. There's a lot more here of everything than back home, because they get shipments in from metro trading centers all over the place. Everything within the city walls is free or at lowered cost if you have a city card for the Sanctuary, and it allows access to the outlying township as well. The township is like a rural village that gets support from the city since it's co close by.

I've been spending a lot of time outside the city walls, partially because Telon said that I should make sure to “stay in contact with the land” while I'm here. To be honest, I would have wanted to explore anyway – the land here is so different from Silver Cove. It can be a little boring, since all around the city are flat open fields, and the trails into the tall grass beyond have few features along them. There are some really amazing places around here though, like the Green Bend Park I went to on a field trip (I've been taking a class here on land-work). We saw where an entire small river flowed from the end of a huge pipe sticking out from under a bridge. Above the bridge a wetland trickled down to join the torrent, but below the water coursed through a muddy chasm twisting into the reeds. The land around the streams slopes in interesting thickets, and sometimes water even bubbles right out of the ground!

There are also the places where a watchtower looks out over the land. I went to see the local fortress- I wanted to see what warriors of a sanctuary were like. When I told them who I was, they were nice enough, and gave me a tour of the walls. The walls of the fort are nothing like the city walls, just simple improvements on the trees and branches that are already there. We did eventually climb up really high though, and got to look out across the fields.

From the tower, the fields really didn't look that jungle-like, as they are when you try to go through them on the ground. They just seemed soft and warmly waving in the breeze. Out to the east the fields are very large: there is almost nothing on that sea of grass until a dark hill rises up on the horizon. Those hills are the real thing to mention though. A dark forest-covered bluff, much like the ones from home, but much much higher, and rising over waving silky green instead of waves. A couple lines cross each other: ranges of massive hills overlapping, each one rising a little higher than the last. Then, barely in view above them all, above all of us, I saw tall mountains far far away etched in a rich light blue. Something about the way those peaks reached into the sky gave me a yearning to stand up there, on top of everything. I have such a desire now to explore those dark and intricate folds of the land. Whatever is up there must be magical, because it is so far removed from everything else, and has climbed so high from the primordial waters.

Maybe this yearning for the mountains is why I've been having such strange dreams lately. It could also just be from living in such a different place though. A couple nights ago I had a dream that I was a tree, or that I was looking at a tree, or thinking about trees...it probably doesn't matter exactly. It was more of a sensation: I dreamt of peeling bark, each layer slowly stripping away and revealing some new horizon of existence. It wasn't painful, but I kept thinking it should have been. Eventually it all kind of swirled into a reality-muddle, and as the last layer got peeled away I woke up.

I went to ask Telon about the dreams, but they told me he had gone away on some errand. He should be back in a week or two though, and I'll bring it up then. Hopefully he'll have a good story from his time on the road.

---

 

Log 10055 School of Bioecology

08/13/2167

Student Name: Ayleah Pine

Subj: Environment, Local.

Introduction of Athyrium Filix-femina

in a Local Ecology – Cohabitation in Marsh Ferns

-for Discussion Section:

In this study we transplanted a single bulb of the fern plant Athyrium Filix-femina (Lady Fern) into an area already supporting a sizable community of Thelypteris palustris (Marsh Fern) in Willow Park. After successful implantation, we observed the fern community for one and a half growing cycles. Considering the nature of the area (wet, partially-shaded), we speculated that the Lady Fern would be a good fit and would hopefully prosper.

Initial results have been positive, with the introduced species producing both a fruiting body and a healthy dormant stage. Upon renewal of the growing cycle, the Lady Fern maintained good form and is adapting well to its new environment. We have also recorded secondary results. Among survey responses of residents near to the study area and visitors to Willow Park we found an effect on well-being. The introduction of a new (noninvasive) species to the community provided residents and visitors with a point of interest and even may have motivated more visits to the park.

Further research will, in the immediate sense, take the form of our continued observation of the fern community. We will be monitoring the health and spread of Athyrium Filix-femina, and its potential interactions with the existing Thelypteris palustris. If the interaction proves positive for both species, there may be an opportunity for future introductions. A working marsh fern arboretum would be a benefit to future bioecology studies, and would also provide a pleasant and calming point of interest.

Personal Notes:

-AP—Working on this project has been a wonderful experience. Coming from a background in very different sort of nature, I have thoroughly enjoyed gaining knowledge and experience about the marshes and plains. My understanding of plants and the places they live has grown exponentially in the past few moons. I have also greatly appreciated the help I have received from both my peers in the school and the locals of the Sanctuary. In particular on this project I want to thank Heln Borringar, the head of the Pond Shoreline Team this past cycle. They were instrumental in aiding our efforts to get the fern bulb planted and keep it safe during the study. Our two groups even developed a bit of a friendship, so thank you to Heln and his crew.

One Journal

 

“The last entry is dated a week before his disappearance”

“Go on, let me hear it.”

The day was an overcast one, unusual for this side of the growing cycle. Even just in the past two days it has rained quite a bit, and our efforts by the pond edge are mired for now. Work was canceled today again while we wait for things to dry out, so I went for a walk out in the groves to get some fresh air and relaxation. I must admit that time got away from me and I returned a good half hour past when I intended. Not unusual in itself, as I often lose myself in thought while out in nature.

I entered the city again and got some lunch before heading to my afternoon philosophy class. Class was unimpressive, but stimulating enough I suppose. It was on the way back home that the interesting thing happened. As I walked back to my apartment building a flash of reddish-orange light appeared for a split second in my periphery. I quickly checked in its direction, but found that it had disappeared, and my mind was quickly forming an impression that I had only imagined it. Or perhaps a light or the setting sun had reflected for an instant off some shiny surface, but no, upon inspection no such reflecting object could be seen either. In the place where I had seen the light was only a corner of the city wall. I turned the corner onto my street and still there was no sign of anything potentially bright-colored. It was as if a red squirrel had just darted behind this corner and, characteristic of squirrels, was watching me from somewhere cleverly out of sight. There are no squirrels in the city though.

I returned home, thinking less of the earlier trick of the light. As I sat at my table after finishing dinner however, I was struck by another odd visual sensation. The whole world around my seemed to darken and increase in vividness, as if the contrast between light and shadow had warped. A darkness seemed ready to envelop my vision, but it was not accompanied by the typical feeling of faintness. I mentally held my ground and the whole experience passed in under a minute.

These sights today I assume are nothing more than visual quirks, and I would perhaps be better off seeking an eye-doctor, but something in me wonders what interpretation the mystics would have. Unless these sights persist in a concerning way, I may have to pursue my curiosity in the coming days..

The scholar finished reading and looked up at the other. Lucan's eyes betrayed a meaningful look for only a split second before becoming impassive again. “And how long now has he been missing?”

“Heln has not reported for his last three shifts, or to any of the classes he would normally take between them. All attempts at contacting him have elicited no response, and his friends have reportedly not seen him either. On this the fourth day, we became especially concerned. His name has also not been found in any shuttle manifests for the past week, so if he left the city that way he would have been in disguise.”

Lucan met his gaze evenly. “We must find him, or any trace we can. Send word to the outposts and the shuttle stations to report anything they might know, and Davai- could you stay a minute? As the rest of the small council gave their bows and filed out, Lucan drew to the House-Sage's side. “Davai, I want you to secure the city in all ways, can you do that for me? Not just the usual attention to the physical barriers, but something else.” Davai caught the gleam of his eyes in the darkening room as he continued. “I want this place to truly be a sanctuary, should anything drastic happen in the greater world. I want to know the inhabitants of these walls are surrounded by the best sort of protection energies we can muster. I know you are up to this challenge.” Davai gave a short bow as he replied. “I would be honored maester. It will take some time and effort to gather the proper materials, but it can be done easily enough, and we will all sleep the better for it.”

With that assurance, Davai left the Head Sage's office to go and make the evening rounds, and Lucan was left alone with the journal. He gazed at Heln's writing, still relatively fresh on the page, and wondered what was going through the man's mind right now, wherever he might be.

Snow Angels

 

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Swaddled in protective layers, the body moves steadily and surely over snow and ice and frozen blades of grass. Little is regarded by the subtle senses of the soles, percepting through rubber and wool in this season. A trunk, tree-like yet in motion across the plain, it culminates above in a gaze, filtered and protected by a polarized lens. The sight sweeps back and forth at times, turning the whole of the body in the process, neck constrained to one degree in the warm padding. The gaze takes in the wondrous world around: hazes of dormant plants hiding in veils of wind-blown crystals. The sun is hiding too, a soft dim glow in the midst of the clouds. The body continues across the landscape, crunching firm even ground with every step. Amid squall and weather swirl, a feeling of command suffuses consciousness, borne from the steady travel of the body through space.

In the thicket there is a slight calm. Not quite enough crossing branches to elicit the true calm of the woods on a day like this, but still a respite from the blowing charge of the fields. A path, drifted in places and winding in a treaded course softened by time and sun. It leads eventually to a window, an opening on the world downwind. Out on the plain you see them, blowing across the open flats, swirling in their charge. The dancing stampede. Like unyielding bison the snow devils, pirouetting in crashing flocks; sweeping the storm winds along. They play and scamper, rein and snarl, all in furious pace. Their feet leave no trace upon the tundra floor but a wisp of icy shadow; a light swirl of crystals that scatter their essence back into the whole.

The clouds shift and dance above the scene, an intricate stage lighting for the show. Without warning or too much suddenness, there is an opening in the clouds and she rises, coalescing. A stillness comes to the mind and the gaze is fixed on ethereal angelic presence in garb of glowing silver. The shepherd of this wild flock is glorious over her range. An angel held in the open space the sun has made. The ephemeral deity is nothing but a shaft of light-filled flurries tinged golden by the western rays. Yet this here is the truth of the divine. Where else could it be sought if not here in the raw forces, where else could she be real if not in the reality? For a moment the sight beholds something truly exalted, though the mind cannot fully grasp its meaning. Consciousness holds itself in a suspension of reason, in pure communion with the magic of base perception. Inhaling, the body breathes the divinity and accepts itself as a part of the storm. Consciousness perceives itself in that moment as but one small moving part in the grand flow of reality. The angel is turning along her path. She gestures out and embraces her swirling charges, and absorbing, falls back into the oneness of the storm again.

The eyes closed, the body relaxed into the embrace of the wind. It speaks in unceasing whispers that roar through the halls of inner space. The calls of the wind hint at all the places it has been. It beckons to the promise of distant mysteries waiting to be found and realms beyond the salient world. Relaxing into these possibilities, the mind meditates. The body is protected, and the tension of the building squall all around awakens a deep calm within. Peace is found in the midst of the storm. It is a peace that tests and secures the wisdom within. The security is cold and sure as deep clear ice. Breathe, and receive the crisp life of the winter air. Held and released, it is the breath of reality itself. Listen carefully as it flows with you.

Eyes open again, the sun has dimmed. A fresh darkening of cloud is bringing thicker flakes again. The wind rises here and there, insistent in its raucous cries. Crows always seem to have a little too much intelligence for comfort. The body moves, consciousness acknowledging the gift it has been given by being in this spot at this moment in time. Steadily, the self seeks home again for recuperation. Glorious as it always is, the divine comes at a cost. No true communion is not sought out in a journey away from rest. Moving through the growing snow, the peace holds still in the heart, and is secured with each crunching step.