"I remember when...

 

“I remember when the clifftop road went all the way out, right through and all the way past the Dennison farm.” Marly and Iben had gone to their rooms, and on the table the mostly-empty bottle of wine was the second of the night. A candle nearby was just beginning to outshine the sunset's fading light. The old-timer straightened a bit as he saw he had the other's attention.

“Course, that was back before the scholars came in-now, I won't deny that their, influence has been for the better. The town's thriving now like it never was in those days, and it's safer too around here.

But back then it was all one big township. The road connected all of us living on this side of the cliff. Sure, parts of it never got a great amount of use, seeing as business primarily went out to the water and back, even in those days. It was a kind of principle of the thing though, like a life-cord that bridged our community. Now there are five townships spread out over this land where there were only three before. The land is the same, it is us that have changed, and so the land has also changed.

“Back then we had a king. I will never fully know if we were better off for that or not. However a part of me is, nostalgic for that time. They were not from here either; our history is one of settlement and usur-pation.”

He paused, and gave a brief chuckle. “Even I and my family are not from here” he looked over at Davy, who was only half-listening. “We came down from the eastern hills when my grandfather was a small child. We've had this homestead just long enough now to be considered among the locals, I suppose.”

“Where were they from- the royal family?” the guest asked, casually sipping at his cup.

The old-timer shifted and looked askance to remember the fact. “I believe it was -originally- a branch of the old Malletts Crown lineage. They traveled inland and found the water here. It reminded them a bit of home, and perhaps a bit of one of their stories. Those are usually the reasons why people remain in new places. They settled on the western shores here, on the peninsula as well as on the Marshrock island to the north. I hear some villages on the island still follow the ways of the kingdom, but it is long since I went sailing out there.

“In this township they built their seat, as you probably saw on your way here. The throne palace is magnificent, even with the forest grown up around as it is now. On the small rocky hill where the lowlands meet the water they built a village. At first it was walled, you can still see evidence of that wall today. The woodlands around back then were frequented by bands of raiders and wild people with no culture for themselves. They persisted on stealing what they could from travelers and local villages. When the new village was established with its imported technology and modest wealth, it became a prime target for the raiders. It took years before people like my great-grandfather were able to make a living outside of that early small walled village.

“Even so, we on the clifftop have always been the secondary township. The peninsula already had a small settlement in the raiders' time, which just got subsumed by the new culture. That town still feels a bit that way. The raiders camps along the water have always been slightly dingier and more dangerous than the woodland; yet they are the primary draw of local commerce. The ports are essential and still provide us with a wealth of goods and opportunities.

“Back then the road ran all the way through though, and you didn't need to even crest the hill between here and the water if you wanted to travel to town. I remember when King St. was the main road up there. Now it's closed to most traffic; only tourists and the people who work for them really go through. The Swamp Harbor still has its character, tourists don't go down there except on accident. For how long though? The world is changing, even if no one else sees it. I like our new village center; I like that it has a quiet, friendly feel. But I also liked when I could go all the way up along the clifftop, through the Dennison farm and that weird gulf there. The road would gain the high ground again and the King St. sign would greet you as you entered the village. Since I made no turns to get there, I always felt like I lived on King St. too.”

The guest sitting at the table smiled and was about to speak when a cold breeze blew across the porch and fluttered the candle flame. The four of them grew suddenly silent and looked between the twilight and each other.

“The world is changing indeed.” the old-timer said, almost to himself. His look of concern and his son's as well were nothing compared to the inner thoughts of the guest, and he tried to hide them. Fortunately, an owl hooted somewhere nearby, with a mellowness that perfectly broke the tension. The night was normal and peaceful again.

Mia the Scientist

 

Mia found the tension of the world. It was a necessary component to keeping everything in place, since without any tension a contraption might reach a stasis and slowly fade from relevance. She wanted liveliness in the world, and for it to move in a way harmonious to its own flourishing. As it was, though beautiful, it had no aim beyond a constant business of the inhabitants. Life buzzed away in patterns of its own, not fully embracing the grand picture. Mia saw reality for its whole self, and knew it was underappreciated.

Too much tension would destroy the harmony of course. She had seen the effects of cataclysms on varying scales while studying in the wild. Over a threshold of tension, the forces could no longer hold harmony in place, leading to a sometimes violent dissolution of bonds. The only way for greater tension to maintain in a stable system was if its internal energy was channeled in flowing patterns. A cyclic flow would allow each bond to relax for a moment as the energy concentrated in the opposite bonds. The flow had to keep moving, but certain systems were so efficient at self-regulation that Mia rarely had to check in on them. Soon she knew the technique was ready to be used at a larger scale.

Larger systems in the world already had rudimentary energetic flow patterns, but Mia wanted to see if these could be enhanced. She did not think it proper to meddle directly with the energetic systems of other large consciousnesses, so she directed her efforts at herself.

One of the most important parts of understanding the system was to break it down into separate parts. A whole could always be thought of as a set of parts that one hopes work together in harmony. Once examined, it can be divided into those parts, and the set of parts may even change depending on the type of examination required. The parts and their relationship to each other can be better understood when viewed as parts of a whole that arises out of that relationship. Dynamic energy within the system can be balanced by allowing each part to shine in its purpose, while allowing the opposing parts to retreat and replenish. This flow also allowed the polarity of the parts to widen, leading to increased diversity within the system. Increased internal diversity led to more dynamic relationships between systems, which lead to revisions in internal dynamics. The cycle was self-sustaining as long as the system maintained healthy flow equilibrium and engaged with external relationships. In this way the system could not only manifest itself, but grow its potential. The external relationships, as long as they too remained harmonious, expanded the size of the entire system.

The humans seemed to know a bit about this, for they had created cities and metropolises that dotted the land. Their knowledge was incomplete though, because they did not have harmonious external relationships. They did not seem to, in large part, understand this concept of reciprocal harmonious growth. Instead they battered along, each attempting to shape the world for themselves, and only coming to harmony with each other or the land by chance of fate. The world could be better than this. Mia did not know if her schemes for influence would in the end be good for the world. She knew though that she had a unique perspective. Her body was one with the world, in a way it seemed no other living thing was. In fact, she did not really know if she could be considered living; she was a consciousness, but sustained herself on sunlight and rain, as well as sweet floral breezes. She did not eat or breathe as the animals or plants, and almost envied their limited perception and sensuous toil. Only almost though, because she was free. She only had to obsess over a place to go there, or over a thing to be in the place to see it. Time and space were only relevant in that they had meaning for the world for which she cared. Her plans for that world were surely better than anyone else's.

And so she began within, shaping herself to reflect what the world would become. She examined and shaped the parts of who she was, creating the harmonious cycle. It expanded to the vibrations of her skin; her outer bodily form glowed with newfound power. Once she settled in this new state, the patterns flowed out and around her, touching the dense thicket and tufty mosses that lay around. The world shivered, tantalized by this new energy pattern. As leaves and other small things adjusted, it slowly seeped in to the wider world beyond. Mia strolled through the land, her power growing now with focus.

Sutton

 

Sutton also spent the night in the woods east of the lake, though in more relative comfort than Jaen, being himself constantly prepared for the occasion. In the morning he made his way surreptitiously back into town, hood down this time, and mingled with the villagers. He quickly learned of the election mishap of the previous day, and of the rough expulsion of one Jaen Bartlett from the village. Once he knew that Jaen had escaped the town mostly intact, Sutton returned to the eastern shore to look for signs of his young charge's landing. Sure enough, he found the abandoned rowboat and campfire ring among the reeds, and from there, the trained tracker was easily able to follow Jaen's trail up the slope. When he reached the roadside where Jaen had sat, he examined the marks on the ground and paused, looking east. It could probably be assumed that from here Jaen had found transport back toward home, whether or not that was his destination. Having none himself save his own feet, Sutton knew he would not be able to catch up now. He would make his own way back to the falls, and perhaps would meet with Jaen there. Otherwise, the young Bartlett would have to continue to take care of himself (Leb, he assumed, was well on his own way home now, as he should be), and Sutton truly wished him well on whatever coming-of-age he had in store.

Sutton was of tough stock, born and trained in older, mountainous ways. His lithe form was a mirror to his mind; honed over many years for the skills and purposes that were required. With foundations in a truly wonderful childhood, he had left his home deep in the foothill vales to pursue strength. In his teenage years he joined an academy which was dedicated to the improvement of the self. The curriculum required service to often less-fortunate others in the most extreme mountain lands. For years he toiled and trained, bonding with his team, the mountains, and himself in the process. He learned the skills of survival, hard work, and true compassion, as well as how to defend his life and others' from the dangers of the world. He brought this understanding of life back down from the heights, intending to live a quieter existence now that he was nearing the middle of his life. Nevertheless he still wanted to use his abilities for service, and so he found the community of Bartlett's Falls. It was a stately township, storied and proud. No deep wilderness either; nearby cities and traffic along the river made for a wonderful diversity of bustling people, especially in summer. Sutton knew this was a place where he could have a positive influence on the world. He applied for a position with the town watch, and rose quickly to prominence. Friendships with the Bartletts and other members of the council solidified his place as a fixture of the community. Everybody knew the tall severe man as trustworthy and fair, if sometimes a little coldly so. His relationship to Jaen became that of an informal mentor. Jaen looked up to Sutton, though regularly refused to take his advice in the field. He seemed to view the older man as perhaps a better father figure than the actual father he had, and irrationally resented him a bit for that fact. Sutton, on his part, only wished Jaen would rise to his abilities, as he saw so much potential in the able-bodied lordly youth. Therefore he was always ready to assist Jaen even in his more foolish endeavors, knowing that wisdom can only come through a proliferation of experience.

Well-experienced himself in traveling the countryside, Sutton traveled easily back east. He made his way down a road out of the forest, and emerged in more open land. The hills around Norton Brook are an outlying clump of land, separated from the first range of mountains by sweeping valleys of farm fields and mysterious lowland meadows. Sutton followed a similar track to the others, also making their way back towards the higher hills. The first range of mountains stood as a line unbroken save in one spot. There the land dove down out of sight into the rocky dale of the river, and a terrace in front of the gap held a collection of small cities. Numerous buildings clustered together as a sort of countryside metropolis with multiple large market centers and a thriving cultural community all its own. The falls township lay beyond, a little ways back into the mountain rift, and has always had a good and close relationship with the metropolis. Sutton always enjoyed the view from these western fields east towards the mountain gap. He chose a spot for the night by a tree on an otherwise open hilltop. As the sun set he was comforted by the soft glow of the lights from the metropolis.

In the morning Sutton awoke to the sounds of birds calling and chirping, as well as a rustling sound that didn't seem to belong. Upright in an instant, he caught two ill-looking strangers rifling through his belongings. Judging quickly from their clothing and manner, he guessed that they were city folk from somewhere nearby. Clearly not upstanding citizens in their own home, one of the dirty ruffians saw he was awake and reached for a gun barely concealed in his waistband. However the short sword barely had time to flash in the morning sunlight before both thieves fell to the ground. Two quick strokes from where it had lain at his side, and it was done. A lithe crouch and a quick step was all it had taken. The bird sang its song again, trilling contentedly. Sutton sighed resignedly: breakfast would have to be on the road today. He packed up his bag and left the camp site as it was. Anyone coming across it would only find evidence of two people ever there.