Woodland Meditation

             Ayleah left the Sanctuary during the dry months, despite Telon's dissuasion efforts to the contrary.

The blue scholar sat contemplative in a pleasant grove amid the foothills of the eastern mountains. A brook flowed somewhere in the distance and lent its soft song to the chirruping and lilts of birds hidden up in dense green branches. There was a peacefulness here in woodland seclusion that allowed him a moment to think.

Surrounded by the folds of rock and fern, with towering trees sprouting here and there to complete a comforting shell of nature, Telon felt at ease and apart from the concerns of any other aspect to life. He could focus on the events of the past few days and the journey that lay ahead. He thought back to the star charts Lucan had shown him in the head office. The astronomers of the Sanctuary claimed the discrepancy between the charts was statistically significant. Telon had little knowledge of the science of astronomy, but surmised that the astronomer's equipment was sufficient to make such a statement as well. The scientists had seemed a touch alarmed even at the discovery, but Lucan had, as always, remained impassive.

The conclusion of the meeting, after some digressions into wild speculation, was that Telon should make a trip into the mountains to see what interpretations the scholars there had to offer. Some twenty years previous, a group had left the Meadow Sanctuary on a quest to seek diverse sources of wisdom, and established their own counterpart sanctuary high on the slopes of the mountains, near the small village of Battell. Over the years, the Battell Hermitage had kept little contact with the valley scholars, but earned a reputation all the same as a respected land of knowledge and mystic study.

A long-distance transport from Dome Central had taken Telon part of the way, but from here on into the hills he would have to walk or find other transportation. Certainly once he began the real ascent of Peak Abrahim wheeled conveyances would be of little use. The sea-like fields of jungle grass and rolling island groves had been replaced by a rocky and verdant world that stretched away into deep tangled murkiness on all sides. Though enclosing, Telon also liked the forest for its openness. The lack of tall grass allowed for much easier travel and the security of sight lines should anything or anyone try to waylay him on the trip. The route was a safe one, but the hills are wild country, and not all animals or other woodland dwellers are friendly to travelers.

The star charts. Telon hadn't seen a huge difference between them; the stars all looked the same to an untrained eye like his. However, if the scientists thought there was an outside chance for concern (and Lucan had agreed as well), Telon was willing to make the trek for research. If something had significantly changed about the placement of the stars, which had stayed on the same track and at the same brightness for as long as civilization could remember, most scholars would want to know the cause. Further, if the shift continued and affected life more generally, there would definitely be more cause for concern. Hopefully, Telon thought, whatever is causing the shift in the star position is mostly innocuous and something the scholars of the Battell Monastery are already aware of.

Certainly Telon couldn't think of any recent change in life for him or any others. The Sanctuary and the other cities all seemed to go about their business as usual. The days went on with the sun rising and setting just as it always had done. Perhaps there had been more rain lately, but such fluctuations were normal from time to time. Only, now that he thought of it, there was one thing he had experienced lately. Twice now, and only in the past week in fact, he had experienced visual hallucinations. The first was a glowing orange light seen across one of the market squares. Thinking it could be a new art installation, he had crossed the square for a closer inspection. However, he had glanced to the side once on his way there and upon looking back, the orb of light was gone. He had looked around a bit for a projector or source of any kind, but the more he thought about it, he questioned if he had even seen the light at all. The second time had happened when he first walked into the woods from where the long-distance transport had left him. There was always a sense of relief for Telon when leaving one of those transports and feeling leaves or sky above him once more. This time however, upon entering the canopy of the trees, the green leaves seemed almost incorporeal. Some quality of the soft light that day made the greenery begin to seem aetheric and dream-like. As he looked around, more of the leaves seemed to discolor and fade away. As the green faded from the world (other, duller colors seemed to remain), a blur of whiteness passed over his vision. Just as Telon thought he might pass out, normal vision returned and the previous moment seemed like it had been a dream of the night before. He had shivered, and continued on his way, trying to remember the strength mantra he had learned back in his Queen City days.

In his peaceful grove, Telon realized that neither of these events had been in his conscious memory until just now. He wondered if the visual phenomenon he had experienced were connected to each other, and why both of them seemed so much more like dreams than actual moments from waking life. He could ask the Battell scholars about these things as well. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. A quick meditation to center the thoughts and energy, and then he would be on his way again.

A minute or two have passed since the blue-clad scholar left for the mountains. The grove where he meditated continues as before; the birds twitter and the distant brook bubbles. On the forest floor is a pleasant rock where he sat in contemplation. Moss creeps up around on the sides, extending from its vast home in the surrounding earth. Gentle shafts of sunlight fall nowhere in particular, accenting the space. From out of some unseen nook, a single petal of a columbine drifts across the open rock, blown by a light forest breeze.