Marketplace

 

The marketplace spread out below them, extending from a large central meadow into the riverside woods beyond. It seemed as though the whole township had been converted to an open-air market, with stalls lining makeshift streets in the open field. Closer to the trees though it grew more orderly and settled, taking on the look of a more permanent village. Eagle Bend had always been a popular location for trade, and the local farms did well for the fact. The older establishments formed grand respectable estates among flat sections of rich woods. Wide grassy lanes crossed and circled the river-bend, leading to hidden meadows and neighborhoods that differed slightly from each other in the natural separation. Niche markets prospered, each in their own open glade, or tucked into the corner of a shared meadow. Along the rough riverside beneath dark hemlocks were merchants of gems and riches from the river vales. In the flat open maple groves were old family farms selling medicinal herbs and sweeteners. In the central open square Ayleah found some of the best fresh produce she had ever seen.

The group from the falls homestead went off on rounds to procure their supplies, giving Niisi and Ayleah a good portion of the day to explore. They both enjoyed the grass roads lined with houses and shops. It was a pleasant village: near to the river but open and mild. The hills to either side gently closed in this small paradise of meadows and mercantile woodland groves. Ayleah felt at ease; she chatted with Niisi about the farms and shops, as well as what she might need to know going forward with her trip up the mountain. They bought a few necessities in this respect, and Ayleah was glad of the advice from both her day companion and the shop owners alike. Niisi seemed to have a wealth of knowledge about the wilderness, though she had professed to not be nearly as hardy as some others around. Her contributions to discussions with the locals were always of comparative nature from her memories of home. Everyone seemed to enjoy the addition of her perspective, making her a good conversationalist. To Ayleah's delight, the two had formed a quiet sort of friendship during her time at the falls estate. Niisi was ultimately reserved, but friendly and thoughtful. She listened to Ayleah's concerns about her home back on the lake-shore, and shared things she had learned from life in the hills. Niisi enjoyed Ayleah's company too as a fresh air after her time among the serious, masculine energy of the falls estate. The rangers and rulers of the dark falls rocks were excellent company, but tiring after a while in their stolidness and mild curiosities.

It was lunchtime, and the two friends ate from a food cart near the riverbank. Tall hemlocks shaded a small park area with benches overlooking the rushing waters. The bank here was steep and rocky, almost overhanging from erosion when the water had been very high. A narrow but well-trodden path swept down from the park to a small beach port in a semi-protected cove. Beyond the cove, the river jumped and snaked through a vast tumble of boulders. White spray lingered over sheer-sided rock islands that showed a multitude of different hues. This was a more normal stretch of river, only just forming the beginning of rapids further downstream. The river coursed around broad Eagle Bend before funneling over ledges toward Bartlett Falls in the gorge below. The wild water contrasted nicely with the placid land of the river bend; woods and meadows peacefully bustling with the day's business. Under the evergreens it was cool and shady, but just beyond in the open meadow square the sun shone warm and bright.

Heading back up the slope, Niisi and Ayleah decided to take a shortcut through one of the smaller streets. Most of the wide grass lanes circled around islands of forest where stately farmsteads poked out of the undergrowth. One path at least though led straight through an island of forest, its grass sparser and mingled with long browned pine needles. Substantially narrower, the street's mossy eaves were a well-shadowed tunnel to the bright meadow above. It seemed less-visited, and had a dank feeling that came from sunlight not often reaching the buildings to either side. As the two approached the entrance to the street, a couple of rough-looking strangers on the roadside regarded them with looks of mild suspicion.

Some of the buildings that lined the lane were also in disrepair, adding to the stranger feel of the place. Overall though it did not feel wholly unsafe to Ayleah. Somehow it wasn't unsettling in a bad way, but rather in that way that makes you feel thrilled to explore further. She and Niisi walked as confidently as before, and they even took an interest in some of the established shops along the way.

It had a curtain for a door, and a long hall the front of which seemed to stand in one of the more well-lit parts of the alley. The curtain was elaborately patterned, with rich purple fibers twisting through rays of every other color imaginable thinly repeated in curling designs. As Ayleah was drawn to the side of the path nearer the door, she could see the true extent of the intricate craftsmanship. It had faded evidently from use as an outdoor tapestry, but it still radiated with a soft beckoning light and seemed of solid quality. Niisi was saying something to her, but she wasn't aware of what it was. The curtain must indicate the hall of some master craftsperson. Ayleah gently pushed through the slit in the middle and went inside.

The air inside the hall was remarkably clear and crisp, though Ayleah could see incense burning in a far corner. The room seemed not large enough to fill what on the outside had seemed an extensive workshop. Its shape too was strange; the walls to either side of the doorway slanted immediately outward to the far one, forming a triangle. Apart from the small table with incense and a mirror on the far wall the room was unadorned. For a moment Ayleah had a thought that perhaps this was not a place intended for the public, or at least not for her, but the thought quickly passed like a small leaf over the edge of a waterfall.

She was heading toward a small door in the far corner by the incense table when something caught her eye. The mirror in the middle of the back wall did not reflect in the usual way. It seemed to always reflect at an angle rather than directly back to the viewer. Now that she was out in the room she could see that two other mirrors exactly like it hung on the other two walls of the room. When she looked at one of them straight on, she saw only an endless passage heading into darkness as two of the mirrors reflected back on each other. What puzzled her was which two were reflecting at any given time. As Ayleah considered this phenomenon, looking from one mirror to the other, she tripped over the edge of a low dais in the middle of the room. Catching herself, a haze swept over her vision. She straightened, one foot on the dais. There was a flutter on the edge of her vision, and she looked up to see Niisi coming through the curtain door with a strangely worried look on her face. Just as Ayleah was about to ask her what was wrong and to tell her about the neat mirror trick, she stepped up with her other foot. The triangle room vanished and was replaced by an endless hallway, stretching into darkness on both sides.

Ayleah at the Falls

Ayleah stayed at Bartlett Falls for a full week, even though she had gotten the answer that drove her there within the first day. The library itself with its troves of local lore could have held her interest for that time. Shelves of stately old ledger-books and archive drawers of maps and documents promised worlds within worlds of knowledge and discovery. Here was collected all the wisdom and tidings that had come down with the water from mountains and valleys to the east and south. Bartlett Falls was a storehouse of history knowledge. It sat in a nexus of land, people and the connections between them, uniting the fertile lowlands with the rocky foothill country. Aided by the Bartlett's resident historical scholar, Ayleah was able to find the origin of her mystery name. Battell was a very old prominent name that appeared in disparate locations, attached to quite a few places in valleys to the south. On the Lincoln mountain though, was a more singular and near occurrence. A hermit village, likely sprawling and with a small central marketplace placed itself as a dot on maps of the skyline. The township of Battell seemed to sit about two-thirds up the mountain slope, at a junction where two climbing roads met. Judging from the map, the way looked well-traveled and it seemed easy enough to get to the plateau. Ayleah was sure that was where Telon had gone, but was more uneasy that no one at the falls had marked his passing through. She had asked if he had been seen of course, but to no avail. There were many visitors that passed through this river dell, but a blue-cloaked scholar would still have been noted.

Furthermore, Leb cautioned her that it would take some preparation if she wanted to ascend the mountain, and recommended she wait a few days for a ranging party to set out. In the meantime she busied herself in the study of the library's maps and books, but also ventured out on the grounds of the historic park. The wild wide river, churning and splashing in sparkling torrents, left its home in the green mountains and coursed down towards broad valley plains. It had here but a short while left to run between such high forested slopes. Past the Bristol city-cluster it slowed as it wound through rolling open land and lowland groves, colossal fields opening in sunlit wonder to either side. The falls were as a doorstep to the mountains; a semi-circular shelf of smooth gray rock. Waters braided around boulder islands were joined by smaller falls to the side. Water streamed in chaotic ecstasy from the forest glens to meet in the general main flow. Suddenly the waters joined in one solid force to thunder over the ledge into a deep hole in the land before spreading again to continue the braided course downhill. Over the pool extended great tongues of the same smooth gray rock, forming a short precipitous gorge downriver. Across the span the land rose sheer in cliffs that supported sparse ferny vegetation. The near side, a rich grove of hemlock and moss, harbored gentler ledges punctuated by a few gigantic boulders. Here and there were signs of the ancient mill-city. Large blocks of man-made stone sat on the cliff-sides, most notably overlooking the central pool, where a large square block served as the estate's back terrace. The manor itself stood on a rock knoll set slightly back from the overlook on which grew a venerable beech tree. It was built like a castle; a palace of the same gray rock on which it stood. Moss and herb gardens surrounded the house, and paths led down both towards the overlook and away into further garden glens. Dense wooded slopes towered steeply over the whole glen, so this small shelf above the falls seemed an isolated pocket of the world. The evergreens and narrowness of the river vale kept daylight soft and brief.

Ayleah found all sorts of cool rock lookouts in the woods by the river. Ledges of rock stuck scarily out over the rushing torrents and beautiful boulders hid themselves in dense leafy places. The river woods were fascinating, but she was always reminded that the rocks and trees were not the real power here. Always in the background was the sound of the water. The falls thundered constantly; a rushing hum in the background of all life near the estate. It was a reminder of the terrifying fall so close at hand (the rocks were often slippery, and it was a long drop to the churning foam of the pool). It was also a reminder of the power and force of the water to shape their lives. They were only there because of its presence; the ancient city-ruins were evidence of that. The water was essential to the importance and functioning of this place in olden times and today, and yet a fear of the river felt healthy. Its current dwarfed any power she, or anyone else, might have at their command. It constantly carved at the rock below, shaping the land ceaselessly in a somewhat predictable, uncaring way. It was much more of a force than the grand placidity of her lake, and she found herself seeking refuge from the rushing of the falls. The groves downstream were quite pleasant, and filled with mossy herbal gardens. The gorge also softened there, beginning to tumble back into the rocky riverbed once more.

Niisi and Leb, though they had their own lives to attend to, were nevertheless good company. They took her to some of the more interesting ruins, like a large rusted metal pipe that led all the way through one of the rock ledges. It could have fit an entire village inside its dark cavern, though the air was poor and the puddles that collected on the dirty metal seemed foul. The whole park was a sort of township dedicated to tourism at the falls. Its gardens did provide enough though to sell as specialty goods, and there was a robust, if sporadic, marketplace scene on the main roadside. Most actual living and trading took place a little ways upstream at the township of Eagle Bend. The homestead at the falls was seen as part museum, part monastery, and part public park.

The river made a wide round sweep just before funneling into its narrower course towards the falls. It encompassed an area of flat, pleasant land where the sharp river vale relaxed and opened slightly to the sky. Eagle Bend seemed much more like a typical rural town, and was the primary trading post for this upper mountain gateway region. Steep roads ran down to here from hill farm country all around, their namesakes hoping to sell to local cities, or to travelers just entering the mountains. The good markets and historic farmsteads with access to the clear river waters make it an attractive destination. Ayleah realized she was happier here than among the gray stone and the noise of the falls, and would join in trips upriver for supplies as a pretense from getting away from the heaviness of the Bartlett estate.

Back at the Falls

His thick-soled boots sounded against the cold stones of the floor as he left the central hall. The Bartlett Falls council had connections to wide-ranging sources, through trade and recreation popularity. As such they were annoyingly well-informed. There had been no point in pretending any aspect of his story, and the disappointment from his father especially had been palpable. So Jaen, concealing his mood as best as he could, had listened to the advice given, and left the chambers as soon as was respectably possible. His mind racing with potential next steps, he went to find his companions.

As seemed to be the case lately, the meeting with his parents (the damned council included) had not gone to plan. Jaen had counted that at very least his failure at Norton Brook wouldn't affect too poorly his status at home. This was not to be the case, and while he could see the fortune he did yet have, his parents' judgment still seemed a punishment. Others on the council had questioned the wisdom of his decisions, but it was his parents that offered this new course of action. It would perhaps benefit him, they said, to spend some time with his uncle on the mountain. Jaen had been to the alpine townships before, but only as a youth. His woodland training had been mostly solitary, and while it had taught him many things about survival, the management of a community was altogether different. It was his parents' regret that they had done less to prepare him for this vision of himself, and their contention that time spent in the mountain townships with his uncle would be of help.

Jaen's uncle Grive was known as one of the most amiable yet hardy and capable premirs of the Skyline. He oversaw a rambling township that encompassed two small summits on the Lincoln mountain. Mostly a rural community, though he traded time and dealings with hermits and city visitors alike. The north side of his locale bordered on a developed side of the mountain, and even featured a raised marketplace with easy landing for air travelers. Grive was known as a busy yet peaceful man; he was never seen to stop moving unless maybe in those times when everyone said he was at the other end of town. He commanded respect through his fierce appearance, but those who knew him felt safest when he was in the room. In short, he was the unconscious model of who Jaen wanted to be, who currently seemed to be engendering the opposite effects on people around. The young Bartlett knew all this, and yet resented the wisdom of the suggestion.

---

Leb had been relaxing on a stone balcony when Sutton returned. His senses relaxing in the safety of the Falls Estate, the tall bodyguard looked weary. Leb welcomed him and indicated a nearby seat.

Sutton gave a soft groan when he sat down. “Well, that was a folly of a trip.”

“Maybe not entirely,” replied Leb, “our young master may have learned something about his limits.”

Sutton grinned grimly. “One can only hope. What do you think the council will have to say to him?”

“I don't know, but I suspect it will lead him away from the falls again. Will you go with him if he takes off on another journey of self-discovery?”

Sutton sighed again. “I feel that in some way it's my calling. This place has been quite good to me, and if I can give back by helping its wayward son... at least I'll feel as if I've done something; given back the energy that this place gave me. My life has been full, but this is an equilibrium for me.”

Leb looked at him thoughtfully. “That's a nice sentiment my friend. I guess I've never much considered the exchange of energy in my life. I give to the world wherever I can, and I know I get back the same. Maybe in a couple more decades I'll have to make more of a review.”

“And what about you Leb? You have been Jaen's friend for longer than I; will you go with him this next time?”

Leb looked at the thick green of the trees above them and shook his head. “I would follow Jaen anywhere he willed, but not right now. I have family here to look after; responsibilities in my own life that cannot be neglected now. I know he'll be alright though. He'll figure out who he is and where he really belongs. I know Jaen has the spirit of his forefathers, even if he doesn't trust that it's there.

Sunset Reflections

 Ayleah winced as she shifted her weight to get more comfortable on the rocky ground. She had only her blind luck to thank that the wound was not too deep. The thief had come face to face with her suddenly around the side of the taxi, and his blade hadn't been very long. Jaen had done a good job on the bandage. It would need changing before they left in the morning, but for now it felt comforting. All three of them had done so well in the crisis. She hoped she wasn't, in the end, a burden for them. Her own survival abilities gave her some confidence, but she was also grateful that her newfound companions seemed so much more experienced in the ways of adventure.

Even Jaen, who had been sullenly reflective most of the day, had broken his quiet immediately upon sensing a threat. He had seen the robbers first, and though Leb did most of the actual fighting, it was his call to action that had saved all four of them. Niisi had protected her once she was hurt, skillfully wounding the attacker so they could get away. Once in the taxi again, they had given her such wonderful care; soothing the shock of what had happened. It all seemed a bad dream now to Ayleah as she sat a short distance away from camp, watching the sunset.

They had stopped at the side of the road for lunch when the two robbers attacked. The spot must have been near an unsavory sort of city, but they had chosen it for the grand view that lay before them. The road topped an open hill, giving a panorama of mountains to the east. The first range ran in a straight dark line from north to south, fronted with steep wooded cliffs and tumbles of massive boulders. The land had been shaped by water in ancient times, in turns liquid and frozen. From one spot a torrent must have once streamed out, cutting a deep gap in the line of mountains and leaving a pool of sediment just beyond. Upon the lip of this ancient terrace they now made camp. The view west looked back over the rolling landscape from which they had come. Ayleah gazed out and thought of the mountains she had seen when they were down there.

Now closer, the mountains seemed more wild. No longer green-blue shapes against the horizon, she could see the different trees that made up the cloaking forests. Here and there rock peeked out of the greenery, hinting that beneath all the life and growth and decay was a more primordial solidity. The gap where lay the small metropolis of Bristol was a narrow gateway into a different world. Ayleah had experienced forests and old wild places, but nothing like the depths of what she sensed beyond that mountain gate. The sun gleamed bright as it passed out from a wispy cloud, bringing her back to the present.

It was a gorgeous sunset tonight, though she supposed the location helped. In front of her, the ground sloped sharply away. They were atop a dusty cliff that marked the end of the sediment terrace. A little ways up slope the trees gave way to a vast open field on the edge of the metropolis. This narrow strip of trees between the metro recreational fields and the cliff edge provided a pleasant grove for resting. The four of them would be spending the night at a public campsite here and leave for Bartlett Falls in the morning. Leb wanted Ayleah to rest, and said they could make good time on the river road and be at the falls by midday. Ayleah liked the campsite well enough. It was dry and sandy, but being in the trees near this steep edge felt a little like being back home. The shape of the land was similar, though there was no lake below the cliff. It did face west though; the sunsets at home had also been very pretty. She sighed and softened her gaze as she took in the colors of the setting sun. it was particularly rich tonight; a deep burnt orange predominated. The sun barely showed over the horizon, and likely had already set. The show was just a play of refraction, though a beautiful one. Small wispy clouds sailed here and there, almost invisible until caught by one of the colors. One became edged in a glowing fire, gilding the tender tuft. For a moment Ayleah was entranced by the depth of the orange glow, the color unimaginably pure in its representation.

As she fell asleep that night, Ayleah thought about the balance of the world; the day had held such frightening contrasts of emotion. That a day in a life could so casually include both the terror of the attack and the gratitude of friendship in equal and immense measure was incredible. The intentions of the robbers did not seem to belong to the same world as the beauty of the sunset's gleam. Her last thought was about that orange-gilded cloud, and how it seemed odd that she couldn't remember leaving that seat by the cliff.