Mushroom Tea

 

A barest wisp of steam curled from the top of his mug and drifted up, slowly merging with the same-colored sky. The tea had a heady earthy smell, like sweet forest dirt. It tasted a little bitter, but the astringency was welcome in a warm morning drink. It was made from powdered mushrooms the woman had gathered locally on the mountain slopes. As he considered that, he thought probably it had been her “assistant” who had gathered them. She called him her assistant, though apprentice would be a more correct title. The youth seemed studious and serious enough, so he trusted in their foraging abilities. The tea had a wonderful effect on his mind. He'd felt, these past days, a remarkable focus and clarity in his work, and time seemed to slip by quite smoothly. It only bothered a small part of him that he could not fully grasp how many days he had been here. He had at least a good-enough sense of energies to know this woman did not mean him harm.

What then, did she mean? He sensed the woman in white had an ulterior motive for bringing him here, but could not yet sense the connections. It was only the three of them in this ruined village. Tucked around the elephantine summit rocks were traces of other cottages and hermit dwellings overgrown with moss and weeds. The three small buildings which they occupied were just below the old market square: an open granite round that looked out on valley views between the spruce. Telon had a vague memory of this place; that he had seen an image of it somewhere before. It certainly was not a part of the same mountain he had been on when he met the woman though. She had called over to him from across the small square outside the Abrahim wall. She had been dressed all in white, albeit practically for the mountain conditions, but with the addition of an ethereally thin shawl. He felt a sense of warmth from her that assuaged his mistrust, and he approached. She assured him that he could meet with the observatory scholars if he wished, but that she might be able to better direct his energies. She said she had the answers he sought, but could also tell him more about how his kind should respond. The scholars were not so willing to share their knowledge, she said. He had kept the appointment they set at the “burnt rock” just outside of the village, knowing he was entering a trap. It was a gentle sort of trap though, as he continued to sense no malice in her or her young assistant. Additionally, he had been very curious about her at the time, a feeling that had not been assuaged.

It was the transport that nagged at him. He still wasn't sure how she had effected it. The woman in white said she had long been able to “slip” between similar aspects of a landscape. She would project out through meditation into an imagined body in another place with similar characteristics to the one which her body occupied. If her concentration and openness were strong enough, she could even interact with things in that other place. She said she had manually “captured” the blue-cloaked scholar's consciousness here on this other summit, using the rocks as a conduit. The ensuing paradox resolved by manifesting a body for the consciousness and effectively “teleporting” him from one peak to the other. As he stood here on the sloping rock summit drinking his tea, Telon wondered if this cloak was really the same one he had had all these years. The fabric had the exact same wear and age, but it seemed so improbable that it was here.

Holding the warm cup in his hands, Telon gazed out into the morning fog. It had been thicker lately, but he didn't mind: it made for good meditating. He had been staring these recent days out into the clouds, trying to sense the patterns out there in the world. What was the flow of those patterns and how could one best prepare to float amongst them? The woman said there was a change occurring. The proper patterns and aspects of the worldly flow were becoming more chaotic. She was concerned for the dysregulation of those patterns. Telon had always had a knack for the energetic work of landcraft, even though his specialty was research. This woman though seemed more knowledgeable than most scholars he had met. He told himself again that her force was a positive one, but knew he should maintain his natural wariness all the same.

A light breeze had developed, and Telon secured his cloak more around his body. The morning air of late had developed a chill to it that he did not remember from his previous time in the mountains. He reasoned though that he had been by the lake-shore and in the valleys for a while before this, and possibly had just forgotten the effects of elevation. The peak with the ruined village was lower than Abrahim, but still sat at a good height. On clear days there were far-reaching views to many sides, and Telon could see a line of deep-green mountains stretching southward. There would be no views this morning however, and he turned to descend back to the cabins. His tea was nearly finished and he knew the woman would want to confer with him about their plans for the day. They usually spent their time working apart, but would often discuss their findings or goals for study. Telon's day would undoubtedly be another productive one of attempting to commune with the subtle patterns in the groves; meditating and working out energetic equations in his journal. Through her guidance he was beginning to see how much information could be gained from the natural world. Everything had connections to other parts of existence, and nature was like a vast library of experiences and wisdom. Telon could see now how much of the essential nature of reality the city scholars had missed. They had only a partial conception of how energy flowed and collected. Telon did not yet understand those inner workings, but he knew enough to see the void in his knowledge. Approaching the cottage, he finished his cup; the mushroom tea was working for sure.

Self-Stories

 

“What is the self?” A scholar had asked that of her class once at the Sanctuary. He wore a brown robe like the other scholar initiates, but spoke with the slower assuredness that marked one who had studied well and long. Ayleah remembered he had been a visiting teacher, substituting in the role that day. The meditation class had often had guest teachers, just one of the things Ayleah had liked about it beyond the material. It was held out in the aspen grove, a stand of young trees at the edge of some wetlands west of the city. The light-colored trunks sprouted in community: sky-reaching branches of one connected organism. Among this friendly family the air felt peaceful and reflective. A soft rustling sound of the aspen leaves high above added to the pleasant atmosphere. There was a small simple room available to them, but Ayleah preferred when they could hold the class outside.

The guest teacher had spoken their question only slightly rhetorically, and looked almost expectantly at the class during his pause for effect. No one answered right away though, so he continued.

“Society will make you believe certain things about the self. It is not at fault with this, society can only be what it was made into by the previous actions of its inhabitants. History creates ideas and beliefs, which harden into preferences about how reality works. What we learn by observing the society around us may not be the truth, but rather a pattern that most people have found convenient for their day-to-day use. And so it is with the nature of the self to the rest of the world.

“Most learn a heuristic: that the self is a thing like any other in the universe. It cannot be sensed in the same way, but it is there, as a solid core, within each and every one of us. This is sometimes personified into the 'soul' or 'spirit', depending on your personal faith or studies.” During these lines he scrutinized the listening class, as if trying to see what each of their “core selves” were like.

“This pattern creates a classical problem though: how do we account for the connection between the world and the mind of the self? How are physical sensations and chemical processes translated into spirit, and commands translated back again? The answer is in the truth that this is a false conception of the self. We are not core packets of soul-stuff. Our inner light is a result of the self and a product of its doings, not its building blocks. The energy of our selves is only unique in how it differs in form. Each of us manifests a different pattern of energy, but it is in essence the same beautiful stuff. It also exists in other bodies of the world, living and inert, but that is a talk for another time.

“What we think of as “the self” is just a cohesion of influences and energies that changes in small but meaningful ways all the time. We create the self by our actions and behaviors; by our thoughts, feelings, and how we respond to them. Over time, patterns that are learned and trained stabilize if they are helpful. Of course, unhelpful patterns can be destructive, but we can prune them and guide them as we would a tree or shrub.”

The teacher had continued, expanding on the shrubbery metaphor, but Ayleah's mind now moved to thoughts of her own self. Kaeri had influenced these thoughts of late, with their own inscrutable ways of selfhood. She knew there was something about her that connected with the energies of the world. Not that others didn't, but with her the channels seemed especially open. The others around her had an appreciation of the natural world, but did not seem as enraptured by its energies. She felt pulled to certain spots, and repelled from others. It was not an uncontrollable sense, but enough to arouse her curiosity. Indeed, and unfortunately she realized, the last couple days she felt she had paid less attention to her companions, so distracting were these thoughts. How long had they been up here, in the mountains? Time had also become less sure to her perception.

The words of the plain-robed teacher back at the sanctuary mingled with what Kaeri had told her. More and more Ayleah felt there was no true self, only a center that identified with itself. With no identification, there could be no action, coherence, or sanity. She was comforted by the fact that that coherence took no effort, but to be conscious of it was still unnerving. Somehow there is more trust in an automatic process if it is invisible. Exposed to the light though, things were easier to fix, and so Ayleah felt she was at least moving in the right direction.

Isak's farm helped her to explore this creation. While working in the meadows and glades she spent a good deal of time thinking and practicing the art of self-hood. Understanding the self and cultivating the mountain produce went nicely hand-in-hand. Both were meditative activities, which required focus and skill. Isak's presence also did not detract. He was kind and confident yet reserved and gentle in his motions. After facing strife in his childhood, he had started his farming young. Now barely older than Ayleah herself, he could claim a successful business, and a stable role in the community. He had little in the way of scholarly learning, but didn't miss it, as an innate wisdom seemed to flow from within him when it needed to.

The farm was well-staffed, and well-stocked. They had groves of sweet young fir trees, and thickets of berry bushes. They had gardens of mountain herbs and flowers, and extensive moss farms where they produced sod for landscaping. They had a good quantity of wood available, both sturdy and weathered for building and rotten for mulching and earthwork. Isak was a perfect gentleman in every way, and welcomed Ayleah onto the farm. She stayed in a small cottage like the others who lived and worked there, but it seemed Isak treated her differently than a typical crew member. As for Ayleah, she was in no hurry to continue on. The farm seemed where she needed to be for now. There had been no sign or sound of the woman in white at Lincoln Peak, and she did not know where else to look for Telon. Grive would let her know right away if there was any word; he stopped in once in a while to catch up with Isak, who he saw as a bit of a protégé. Ayleah thought again of her previous conversations with Kaeri about destiny. These terms seemed so heavy and deep in their implications, but maybe it all wasn't that complicated. Maybe, Ayleah thought, this is a good place for me- maybe I could create a good self for my destiny here, or is it a good destiny for my self? Isak, she thought, seemed to have a pretty good handle on his own self. And he was more than fairly good-looking too.

She must feel safe, he reasoned. Ayleah being how she was, Jaen knew she must have a good sense of trust for Isak, though they had only recently met. Grive had vouched for him as a quality member of society of course, but Ayleah always seemed to keep her own counsel when judging other people. Isak had a calm, accepting demeanor. He seemed to keep busy with his work, though he was never in a hurry. There was a quiet confidence in his humble manners that was obviously attractive. It shed a light, for Jaen, on some of his own faults. He had been too self-conscious, and preoccupied with his duties leading the group. He had no-one but himself to blame for not making more of a move.

Isak gave her the space she needed. Ayleah had been troubled lately, as news of her missing mentor had been scarce. Her conversations with that Kaeri person hadn't seemed to help. Something they had told her had made Ayleah more unsure. The Ayleah that Jaen knew did not lack in confidence, and so it seemed good she was taking time away for herself. Whether or not she was infatuated with the handsome farmer did not bother Jaen too much. He doubted that anything would come of it, though at the same time wondering if the doubt was only imagined to comfort himself. What was surprisingly hard to admit was that either way it was probably the right move for her.

Not that Jaen wouldn't be around. Grive planned on keeping him for a few moon-cycles at least, claiming he had found his new top ranger captain. He had even hinted that, should Jaen do well, he could stay on indefinitely. “At least until I find someone better.” the grizzled uncle had said.

Whatever he had been at the trailhead, Jaen was more aware by now. His forays into the mountain wilderness on scouting trips for Grive gave him life. It was a raw, earthy sort of life, mingled with the brisk clean air. He warmed to leading teams, over time becoming a favorite among the mountain rangers. Under Jaen's command, expeditions were always successful and completed near schedule. They sometimes took unorthodox routes and came back brimming and beaten with the spirit of adventure, but they always brought back valuable information on trading and resources. The young captain began to feel more and more like the man he knew he could be.

Jaen saw little of the farm on Little Abrahim, but occasionally thought of the young woman working and living there. Had she found herself yet? At times Jaen felt like he had drifted from the main story, as if something of importance was happening elsewhere from where he was. When he had these thoughts, he told himself that the truth was he had his own story. It was a pretty good plot so far, and he still thought he could make it into something even greater.

Journaling in Public

 

Despite its warmth, the black cloak was no comfort today. Usually it afforded a sort of protection; a shield from the rest of the world. He had always liked the black cloak because it could hide him away in plain sight. It brought a confidence and mystery to his presence. Not today though. Today he felt conspicuous in his stew of embarrassment. Luckily it was only a private embarrassment; there was as yet no perceived connection between him and the raiders who had caused such a scene at the Battell Trailhead. He had made sure, of course, to tie up those loose ends.

And so he was forced to give up his pursuit of the mysterious girl. The brothers had failed him, and would take some time inside the mirror to consider their mistake. He was sure someone would find them eventually, or they would by dumb luck break the mirror trap themselves. Either way, they would probably be fine in the end, just a little hungry. His connection to them had been broken. They were never supposed to attack the caravan, only spy and report. He had made that very clear to them, and hated when people did not listen to his instructions. Unfortunately, they also would not likely work for him again, and so would miss any opportunity to impress him with a lesson learned.

To lose the girl was infuriating. She had held so much promise as a source of power. He knew that someone who was that connected to the elemental energies could manipulate reality in more than sufficient ways. She had been the key to his portal work: he needed the connection to raw power that she had. Now whenever he meditated on her countenance the orange flame rose to block his way. It burned, reddish and fierce, though without flicker or heat. A silent barring of his way to where she was in the mountains. He probed out, trying to find some rivulet through which he could spread influence, but the orange-red guardian was imbued into rocks and roots, always tripping him up in the damp fells and knobbly slopes.

The man in black did not like having to change course, but nevertheless had a backup plan. Another color had struck him during his meditations. A sort of rich light purple, the hue of a delicate wildflower. It had a strong glow, more vibrant than any papery petal, and pulsated in a soft way that seemed to give off radiance to the things around it, bathing them in a dark light. He was entranced by this presence, and could tell it was a nexus of exceptional power. It had intention even, like the orange-red presence, but seemed barely interested in him. There was not quite the edge of hostility, but a quiet confidence that kept him at bay. This purple energy swept its vector across the land from the western shores inland and north a little ways. It had colored the whole swath.

The man looked up from his journal to the surrounding square. This multi-city center was on the top of a high hill, and had a very rural feel. To his right stood a community complex, and a few humble city buildings lined the way along the ridge. A stiff breeze pulled at his collar from behind. It smelled of the distant lake and marshes cradled among these hills. A faint scent of wood smoke mingled in the air, reminding him of the surrounding culture. The people of this land went about lives completely separate from his concerns. They did not necessarily know an apocalypse was coming. Maybe some old folks had a premonitory feeling, but if the scholars themselves were vague on the subject...

Many of these folks though, he realized, utilized the energy about and around them unconsciously in sometimes incredible ways. The skills, intuitions, and bearings of the average villager would be a near impossible thing to teach. They were no dumb automatons, the folk of the hills.

The few who crossed the square and noticed him showed only minor suspicion. He wouldn't be here long enough to rouse much feeling, but any stranger in a black cloak could be conspicuous. Maybe he was imagining some of the atmosphere though. It was all in his head today, his energy wasn't right and he felt it in the lack of confident self-presence.

He had been contemplating how he would get the energy for the portal meditation. The power he needed lay in one of these elemental entities, but the method of transfer could be problematic. If these nexuses were truly beings, and beings composed primarily of elemental energy, then taking on that energy might mean a draining of their life-force. He thought back to previous times when he had consumed the energy nexuses he found in the wild. Had those been like small elemental animals that he had eaten? These thoughts had challenged his conceptions of morality, and adjustments would have to be made in what he considered right, or necessary. Would he have to fight, or kill to get this power? He was just about to weigh whether or not he could, when he realized blood was already on his hands. They had killed someone at that trailhead. Not even the brothers, but some ruffians they had brought on to the job. Nevertheless it was on his hands. He could not go back on that part of his quest. Was the girl manipulating reality around her that much?

The man in black resolved to maintain independence. He was master of his own story, and would find power another way. Maybe the purple energy would work willingly with him. If it was a being as beautiful as it felt, maybe they could go to the alter dimension together. It had once looked at him through the mirror, or as much as such can do without features. The blank gaze was one of gentle challenge, and stuck in his mind now as he traveled northward.

Mia had seen the man in black, as he meditated upon her presence. She let him find her energetic nexus, guiding him to some groves where she would wait. He was one of those snakes of men. They knew how to get power, and stopped at nothing in their quest for it. She knew not to trust him, but was curious how far he would get if she let down her guard. He had power of his own, black and shadowy, that she could use. She wanted to taste all of the energies of the world, knowing the full palette for the painting in her new order of things. So she waited, dancing with the small things of the forest, bare feet flitting in the pine needles and hemlocks tall above her head.

Distractions

 

Sutton called for a halt to the vans when he recognized the oldest of the three men standing in the small green. A cross-path met the main road at a bend, creating an open space. The men were in casual conversation, standing off to the side making use of the pleasant clearing. Ayleah thought it would make for a delightful village square if there were more houses nearby. The land was flattish, and sun beat easily past the sparse canopy of spruce. Smaller evergreen bushes grew densely about the intersection, but looked to give way to enchanting glades down the side paths. Numerous downed logs crossed above the mossy undergrowth, supported by their columnal branches and even older fellings. A cycle of the woods perpetuated here faster than usual in the harsh climate and exposure: the mighty trees always reached up to the sky in blessing until they were cast back down to feed the earth once more. Ayleah felt a good balance here; suspended between the earth and sky on a rocky pinnacle. The ground was sturdy, flat and stable, and the stunted trees gave some comfort. There was a thrill behind the screen though: an awareness of the wild open into which this land thrust itself against the elements. There was power and mystery around and above, as well as softness and refuge among the mossy terrain. Such delicate plants grew among the folds of stone and wood. Ayleah was in wonder once again.

From the van parked at the small moss square, she looked out to the men Sutton had greeted. He seemed to know the oldest, who had a comfortable air about himself. One other Ayleah didn't recognize, but the third gave her a mild start. He was someone she had seen around the Sanctuary: a Plainfielder of muscular build. He worked in the city's landscaping division, she thought. Sutton didn't seem to know him though, and she wondered why he was all the way up here, chatting with the locals. Bellinda and Jaen had gotten out of the vehicles as well, so Ayleah figured she might as well go see what this was all about.

.

Jaen had not seen his uncle in some time, and was prepared for some sort of reprimand for his previous presumption and hot-headedness, news of which had undoubtedly reached the peak township by this point. Grive however, only met Jaen's upright and braced posture with a congenial smile. “Jaen, my boy! How are you- how was the journey?” He gave his nephew a warm handshake and a firm gaze; Grive was not one for hugging in public.

“Well enough, thanks uncle. It was really these new vans though, they handle great on the rocks.” Grive gave Bellinda a friendly grin. “You keeping this party in line Bellinda? These are your vans aren't they?” Bellinda stepped forward and shook his hand, returning the smile. “Yes sir. Your nephew is a fine captain.”

“Didn't think to find you standing by the roadside Grive,” said Sutton, “who are your friends here?” Grive indicated the man furthest from him. “This here's Isak. He runs the most successful farm in this township. Most of his property is actually right over there.” He pointed at the western side path, but swept his hand to indicate a large swath of the ridge. “I brought my new friend Heln down here today to see if Isak could assist in a little project we've been doing.”

Ayleah stepped out of the van and joined Atkins and Jaen's warrior friend a few paces behind the group. Atkins was leaning on the edge of an old stump and studying some delicate spore-like plants that were sprouting from the green carpet. The ranger was softly at attention, scanning the surrounding forest as if casually taking in the sights. Flor had not left the van, his head buried in a textbook. Kaeri though, was nowhere to be seen. It was proof to Ayleah of her suspicion that Kaeri did not actually travel with them. The hitchhiking had been only a means of meeting her.

The farmer had noticed her, and it brought Ayleah back out of her thoughts. He seemed not much older than her, actually. A young man well-established here at a prestigious township. Well-groomed and of clean style too. His gaze lingered just a half-second too long before he turned to the conversation again. Slightly flustered for no apparent reason, Ayleah turned the other way and asked Atkins about the plant she was studying.

.

Heln was distracted. He had sensed the vans approaching before he saw them. It could have been their sound, or some movement in his periphery though. Just some sliding of color beyond a screen of branches. It was the wrong color though; the vans were a blueish-gray. Even the headlight covers were not bright enough at distance to account for that flash of orange. Furthermore nothing in the conversation could have generated it. Isak seemed a fine gentleman, relaxed and confident in his ways. He had a good rapport with Grive, though Heln could sense there was an underlying quiet tension there. If Isak had something to do with the orange-red elemental, then he surely would have known as soon as they met. The farmed forest around had only a pleasant placid quality to it. However, this group had now shown up on the road, and he was positive they were connected to his quest. The young man who was their leader seemed similar to Grive, if only in general bearing, and was soon revealed to be the premir's nephew. The others seemed normal enough, none even glinting with orange. One young woman though, who had exited a van but kept back a bit, intrigued him. She had an inquiring gaze that said she was more than just a part of this expedition. As soon as he looked at her though, he felt a sharp pain in his thigh. Assuming it was a biting bug, he quickly swatted at the spot and forgot what he had been thinking.

His leg assuaged, Heln noticed a bright rock at his feet. It was a burnt orange, with bands of a deeper color that shimmered as light caught its surface. It had an irregular rounded shape, as if it had been tumbled in a machine. He picked it up, examining the deep-reddish surface. The light made rainbows in those shimmering bands, refracting in blinding gleams across his vision. Heln turned the piece in his hands and held it up to ask the others if they knew what kind of rock it was. None of them recognized it. The nephew Jaen said it looked like some of the gemstones he had studied, but Grive said nothing like that could be found naturally up here. They had seemed surprised too at his abrupt change of topic, and quickly returned to their introductions and catching up between the nephew, his uncle, and their friends. Still intrigued, and slightly confused, Heln slipped the stone into his pocket, knowing he would study it more later.

Connected

 

Ayleah knew that Kaeri was peculiar, but also knew that Kaeri was not exactly human. This gave some leeway on their nature. It would not seem so strange to her if Kaeri appeared to shift their appearance with each interaction, or seemed to suddenly be in a place they hadn't been before. The two of them had only had a couple of conversations, but she had learned quite a bit from the hitchhiker. They had not had much opportunity for interaction on the road though. Ayleah figured Kaeri had been traveling with Bellinda, but didn't remember seeing them at either of the rest points. The alpine surroundings had been so enthralling that she probably just hadn't noticed their presence.

The two times Ayleah had spoken with Kaeri, their conversations had been deep and interesting, but to no definitive end. It seemed to Ayleah that this person had a deep-seated interest in her, but would not fully explain why. Kaeri looked to be younger than Ayleah, but felt much older somehow. They would ask her about things she had studied at the Sanctuary, especially around the topic of energy perception and manipulation. None of the lessons seemed new to the other, but Kaeri was nevertheless fully engaged. Ayleah told them what she had learned about tuning into the energies of land, working with natural forces in landscaping efforts, and procedures for consecrating or protecting a space. Kaeri reiterated that the scholars were misled in their understanding of natural energies. “For all their good intentions'” Kaeri had said, “they don't have the right grasp of how it really is. They see energy as a separate substance that imbues objects, places, or beings with a magical quality, when it's actually the underlying substrate that permeates all those things at all times.” The scholars' techniques, Kaeri said, were useful in manipulating energy, but could perhaps be more impactful if they acknowledged the true connectedness of reality.

This thought had begun to change the way Ayleah looked at the world. The understanding of connectedness was a sort of quiet seeping revelation. Energy had always seemed to her like overlaid currents of magic, flowing through the world and concentrating here and there. Now the world seemed to her to be a vibrating whole; a unified breathing of that energy into every corner and extremity. Places that felt more powerful were concentrations not of power, but of harmony.

They had stayed the night in comfortable accommodations at Abrahim, passing a lovely evening in company of some of the amiable locals. The next morning it was still cloudy, and they set off north along the ridge, leaving the open rock of the summit village. Almost as soon as they were back into the scruffy forest they began to descend. The road was a hardened lane of sparkly gravel between mossy spruce woods. They rolled down rocky ledges much like the ones on the ascent, though none proved very formidable. The drivers both seemed comfortable, letting the vans gain a bit of speed as they swept down each of the rocks. The load had been much reduced by now, and they were a vehicle less in the party. The third transport was empty now, and its crew were from the area, so they had stayed behind. The three of them were seasoned mountain-born, and were enjoying the hospitality of the summit village.

A while passed and Ayleah noted that they were still descending. She knew their course was only along the ridge-line to the next peak, but now wondered how far down the road would go before climbing again. From the valleys, this mountain had looked nearly flat along its multiple peaks, but being this intimately close with the terrain gave a better understanding of how varied it actually was. They were still on a high ridge though. Ayleah could tell that the level land here was barely the width of the peninsula of her home village. The difference was that here instead of a lake to either side there were steep forested slopes dropping away from sky. She could see they were now under the cloud layer, and sometimes a bit of color appeared in the blue through the spruce trunks: hints of far-off hills. It was just enough to remind the travelers of how high up they still were. The woods around were a mess of moss and fallen evergreens. New evergreens sprouted in the midst all fuzzy and fragrant. Insects and birds swerved and darted around, seemingly oblivious to the special nature of their land. The road dipped into wet glades where tiny trading squares battled for space with the mud, and homes dotted the sides of small knolls. They crossed over minor unmarked summits and around the sides of rocky knobs that poked up in an effort to maintain the ridge. Eventually one of these knolls proved larger than the rest, and they climbed again for a short while. When the road flattened, there was a burst of sunlight. The two vans had come around a corner of rock into a section of younger forest. The sky was more open here. All along the heights of this smaller summit trees had been felled, mostly by natural causes, and the shrubby newer growth brought an almost meadow-like feeling to the narrow high-elevation ridge. Ayleah breathed in the sunlight from her open window. The smells of the forest air and the closeness of the sky filled her head and warmed her heart. It felt good up here.

Plainsman

 

The people of the plains used to think they went on forever; that the world was nothing but endless seas of grass undulating beneath the heavens. Trees were still sparse in that region, only clustering more densely near cities or around the great rivers which cut into the land. Those western plains laid out as a tapestry of greens carved by rich waterways of all sizes. The sages of his homeland knew much of water and the subtle cradling slopes along which it traveled. The land was in symbiosis with the water, at its mercy, and in a dance that holds the balance for life. Its flows are complicated, yet can be understood enough to form a working friendship. Heln had fond memories of the places of his childhood, its endless meadows and playful placid creeks. It was a main reason for choosing to settle at the Sanctuary when he journeyed to the east. Its land reminded him a bit of his old home.

One can tell though the contrasts in places. While all lands share some basic earthly attributes, they differ from each other in their ambient quality. Teach one has its own uniqueness. Heln had learned to sharpen his perception in this respect as a youth. In his work, he was taught to be aware of his site and surroundings. Proper awareness included not just of the slope and how the water flows on the land, but of how the feeling of the land flows around oneself. He had never fully understood what that was supposed to mean, but different places certainly had different qualities of pull, motion, or rest. He could feel when a place was stable, or if it had motion, how one might best utilize that force.

Back west in the plains, questions of these overall feelings had seemed to be much more subtle. There was a general sense in all places on the land that they dwelt on a benevolent and quiet locale, and slopes were vast, softly rolling things. Areas studied by sages were carefully inspected and historical understandings were a matter of careful and deep study. That was a similarity at the Sanctuary. Heln delighted in his work out in the fields, helping to control the water systems. Work in such flat places required an understanding of subtlety, patience, and an embrace of the sun and sky. Mud, tall grass, and the hum of insects was a paradise for him, accentuated by the blue sky and the sweat of labor.

When he saw the horizon though, all was different. These were not the fields of his land; the soft rolling hills secure beneath his feet. These low-lying fields only compared to the river-plains out west. Back home there was a sharp separation: grand wooded bluffs raised rounded shoulders above the floodplain. Down there the land felt unsure, more claimed by the river than the sky. The forested slopes formed a wall that raised up the lands of Heln's childhood above the unpredictability of the great flow. They considered the entity which lifted them above chaos to be the real living land; the floodplain and river were in a symbolic and literal sense, further from the sun. Here though, the low flat fields were the only open space. Here in the east the plains gave way, often more quickly than Heln would have liked, to dense forest and steep slopes which seemed to have little to no space at their summit.

Mountains, even small ones, had an air of deep mystery. They were not the life-giving arms of the river bluffs, but rather seemed like dormant gods. They lounged and rested on the landscape, slowly considering their domain. They grew moss and woods in their repose, stretching wild around their base and hiding secrets in their folds. The open fields of human striving seemed to cower at the feet of these mysterious giants. Even the flat-woods of the region had an ominous air, as many seemed only outposts from the main forest range. Heightening the intrigue, some of those dark hills grew so tall that their tops disappeared, regularly, into the clouds. Heln had heard of folk living on those far summits, but had a difficult time truly believing the stories. He could feel the natural power of those places from even down here in the valleys, and he could sense the intensity of their elements. How would it feel to actually set foot on those upper heights, and what would one find at the peak?

- - -

So far, Heln's experience of the mountains had become one of wonder. Traveling the steep ridgeline, he marveled at the hermit communities that burrowed their ways into the moss-covered slopes. They showed a level of hardiness hardly imagined by his perception of humans back in the plains. The alpine residents showed frugality and generosity in nearly paradoxical amounts, and seemed genuinely satisfied with their lot; as if they shared in some secret of the mountain. There was simply an amount of life up in the higher elevations for which Heln was not properly prepared. The forest and other natural features sheltered sprawling townships from the elements. The land too, was not nearly as bleak as it had seemed from a distance. Bright green mosses and rich reddish earth contrasted over stones which sparkled in the sunlight. Heln could see why scholars and other spiritual people held the place in high regard. It was almost as if the “real land” here constituted only a tiny percentage of the region. The river vales were wide and vastly more populated, but the real power was up on these high slopes.

Cultivation of his wonder did not stop with the observance of the land. Heln stopped for lunch at a village which clustered about a partially-open summit, and encountered the object of what he had thought would be a much longer quest. Fen Golbein, the so-named master of colors, wore a cloak of pale motley that well accented the whiteness of his hair. He was older, and not terribly fit, so Heln had little difficulty in catching up to his gait. The sage had greeted a villager who had called him by name. Seeing the dress and character of the indivdual, Heln realized his good fortune and knew he had to introduce himself. Fen proved an amiable fellow, and the two talked for some time.

Heln told Fen about his hallucinations of light, including the orange flashes. They discussed the meanings of the color orange, as well as any possible personal significance it might have to Heln. Fen was particularly interested in the claim that Heln's experiences had no perceived medical basis. They both trusted the opinions of the doctors at the Sanctuary in the matter, so Fen was curious about a potential spiritual etiology. The two agreed to meet again, and subsequently spent many days looking into what sources of information they could find on the mountain. Between scholarly study and experiments out in the spruce forest they began to learn more about the nature of the lights Heln was seeing. It seemed to be an entity with no clear origin from the external world. It had an earthly nature, but was foreign to both Heln and Fen. It seemed to be trying to communicate with Heln, but also gave off a teasing sort of energy. It would appear as subtle gleams on objects, or as a vague bodily shape for barely an instant before vanishing completely. Both the sage and the plainsman began to feel some frustration in their efforts.

Astronomy

 

All through the next day the cloud remained, covering the summit township in a light gray veil. Moisture collected on the extensive rock slabs, making travel between the outer homes and the central fort slightly treacherous, especially in the morning hours. Ayleah's business was inside in any case. Hearing nothing about Telon the previous night, she planned to visit the scholarly offices herself while the others in the group took care of the supply distribution and affairs with the Premir.

The few researchers dwelling at Abrahim who were officially credentialed held offices in an upper level of the central fort. Somewhat contentious and reserved, they presided over an astronomical observatory set high in the large rock wall. Theoretically it was a public service for the greater community of knowledge-seekers. While others could reserve times (for a fee) to use the observatory, it was an uncommon occurrence. Many of the outsider researchers prided themselves on not needing the fancy instruments of the “academy fellows”, and frosty attitudes prevailed.

Ayleah found the observatory scholars like-able enough, though they shared the same reserve she had found among some at the Sanctuary. She often found that those who held knowledge were easily corrupted by the power of deciding who else gets to have that knowledge. The astronomers told her that Telon had scheduled a meeting with them over a moon-cycle ago, but never kept the appointment. Though they had initially met the blue-cloaked scholar when he first arrived at the village.

“He was in need of food and rest, so we told him he would be welcome back to speak with us once he had gotten those things. He seemed on a mission of great importance though. And he seemed an honorable scholar, I would have liked to know what he wanted to talk about.”

Ayleah pressed the point, “Has anything been going on astronomically that he might have wanted your input on? There was a reason he was sent up here, of all places, for his research. If I could find anything out about what that was, maybe it would give me a clue to where he went.”

The scholar looked at the other two, then back to Ayleah. When he spoke it was with a measured tone. “We know there is a change occurring. We do not know the consequences yet, or the exact cause. There is something altering the perspective of our world, and we have yet to pinpoint the source. We know this source is something, perhaps in our Solia System, that was not present before, but again, we don't know what this presence is yet. That is to say, we have observed changes, but not observed anything new in the celestial equation. For certain there is no cause for concern at this time.”

Ayleah felt a sort of buzzing deep in her spine somewhere. “Telon must have had some information to share with you about your findings. Maybe your observations were going to complete some theory of his. The scholars at the Sanctuary must have noticed something too and talked about this among themselves.”

“Undoubtedly true. I wonder what they found out there in the valley.” the astronomer replied, almost wistfully, “I wish we could be of more help to you, but we have not seen your mentor since that morning. Our meeting was supposed to be at midday, but he never appeared in our offices. We looked around to see where he had gone, but it seemed he left the village by mid-afternoon. There are only two roads out of town, but we haven't heard of any sightings.”

Ayleah left the office with just as many questions as she had had upon entering, though now they were different ones. She was just organizing her thoughts when a younger-looking scholar beckoned her from around a corner in the hallway. Curious, she followed and the scholar spoke to her in a low voice.

“I may know something about what happened to your friend, but I have to be quick. Some of the others don't like mentioning all they really know.” They glanced around briefly before continuing. “There's been a strange Mystic woman around the village lately. She dresses in all white and doesn't seem to say much, but everyone gets a bit of a weird feeling around her. I don't know anything for sure, the whole thing might be accidental. Anyway, I and a couple of the others saw her meet with a man in a blue cloak near the edge of the village. He sure looked like the person you described; definitely a scholar of some sort. They were walking toward the north side of town, near where the meadows begin. Maybe she's still hanging around somewhere and would have more information for you.”

Ayleah thanked the young scholar wholeheartedly, and walked outside with purpose. The cloud cover had brightened, and some of the stones were not so wet as earlier in the day. She left the central square and ventured out to the northwest side of town, where the rock ledges of the village softened into long sloping meadows of scrub that slanted precipitously downhill.

The suburban hermit meadows here provided no additional leads however, and she became distracted by the unique flora of this alpine place. Jaen found her returning slowly along the open rock-ways having found no trace of the woman in white. He was interested to hear of her visit to the astronomers, but echoed her disappointment in not finding more of a lead. They ate from the picnic lunch Jaen had brought with him, and spent a fun afternoon exploring the open ledges and the soft ethereal alpine meadows. The cloud never fully lifted, but Ayleah felt the day was light enough.

Suspicion

 

It was after they had eaten, and lights about the lodging had dimmed for the evening. Flor confronted her alone in the corridor outside their rooms. The inn being one of the constructions tunneled directly into the greater wall, floor to ceiling was all of the same dark glinting stone. From the corner by his doorway he caught her attention. “Curious, aren't you?” he said. Ayleah gave a little start, and turned to face the shadowed technician.

He hadn't said it as an accusation of her behavior, but rather with the tone of one defining a rare specimen. She was somewhat taken aback by the question.

“What?” Ayleah said, pausing in the corridor.

Flor stepped closer. “I've been watching you. You're not...you don't, feel like anyone else I know, certainly not the others in the group, and we're all not too alike anyway. No, there's something different about you.” His eyes examined her shrewdly. “What are you really doing here?”

Ayleah felt the urge to step back slightly, but held her ground. “I'm trying-” and her words caught as she remembered her conversation with Kaeri. “-trying to find out what's going on.” and then, feeling a little defensive, “Same as you it seems.”

“I thought you had come with us to find your mentor. Wasn't he missing up here somewhere, or don't you remember your quest?”

“I do, and he is!” She didn't know why he was pressing her. “It's just...things seem more complicated now.” she was not upset, but rather becoming annoyed with his presumption. “You shouldn't be so quick to judge others Flor. Did you think I was some sort of evil agent that had infiltrated this community? I may be different than other people, but that's the nature of the world! There is no true normal when you look at things closely, the comparison of each thing to its ideal shows that there is no standard that exists. Whatever I am, I am on your side, and that is what is important.”

A look of concerned horror threatened to creep onto Flor's face. “what do you mean “whatever I am?” what do you think you are?”

Ayleah gave a soft laugh. “Human, Flor, human as far as I know. I think I just sense parts of the world more strongly than others do, and sometimes behave a little differently because of it. It looks like you do as well, since you were able to feel that about me.”

Flor relaxed his stance. “Well, I guess that's reassuring,” he said. “but I still don't trust these other parts of the world that seem to be coming out of the seams more often lately.” his voice lowered slightly, “To be honest I don't trust our hitchhiker. Have you noticed that every time Kaeri is nearby time seems to move differently? I have memories from the past couple days that feel like I was drugged at the time. That's not right, but that's not the only thing. During the whole business with the cliff and afterwards, I don't remember seeing them with us at all. Yet, here they are, walking around in the summit meadows.”

He paused, now accusatory again. “I saw you two from the apothecary window. You went over and talked with them for a while it seemed. You looked awfully friendly with them, what do you two talk about? How do you know this strange person?”

Ayleah paused, trying to stay confident. “Kaeri isn't...they're not- you don't need to worry about Kaeri. They're only trying to help me.” She had been about to finish that first sentence with 'not dangerous', but there was a part of her mind that knew it would've been a lie. Truthfully, Ayleah was a little scared of Kaeri, who seemed to represent boundless power.

Flor looked at her shrewdly again, but now with a touch of empathy. “It's obvious you're hiding things from all of us Ayleah, maybe even from yourself. I don't think you're an 'agent of evil' though. Just know now that you don't have to go this alone, the group supports you. For my part, you can trust me.”

“Thank you Flor, I appreciate that.”

With that they said their good-nights, and she continued on to her own room.

Peak

 

They reached the summit village, feeling grateful for the sight. The vans passed a large sign next to a gatehouse that was so covered in lichen that it looked nearly as old as the forest behind it. The rocks of the road began to level off and they found themselves entering a large clearing among the tiny stunted spruce. To the left there were no trees, and the expanse of rocky ground sloped downward in placid but steepening folds. Straight across there and beyond was only sky, filled with the murky gray of a cloud. The road diverged though, and they turned onto the right-hand lane. Here at the summit a sizable rock wall had been erected, and the road split to pass it on both sides. Windows poked from the holes high in the wall, and sigils were painted here and there to signify the varying dominions of trade guilds and religious groups. Rounding the next corner, Ayleah saw that the wall was really a circle, fortifying a small space on the summit of the mountain. Within lay a sheltered square, ringed with important-looking offices and various mystical businesses. Peak Abrahim was a flagship among the mountain communities, sprawling along the open west ledges and furrowing into the krummholz wherever it could. What had begun as a loose collection of spiritual seekers and mountain hermits had over time solidified into an open sky city of sorts, hugging the mountain's highest point. Other fledgling rural towns in the region looked to the success Abrahim had enjoyed, even considering its naturally harsh conditions. Only three peaks in the whole range were higher than Abrahim's summit, and few communities endured such exposure to the elements. The circle-wall was essential to the stability of the village, and the offices which remained established within had reached a very stately and respectable status.

The township square was quiet today, dampened by the weather. Under a blanket of gray and surrounded by the cold stones, Ayleah's mind drifted from any sort of goal. Leaving the others to distribute cargo and do business with the town's Premir, she wandered through a small park on the side of the square. Places for sitting had been constructed around a circular area of the ground-rock that was strangely gold-colored. As Ayleah stepped onto it, she realized it was actually a large disc of metal set into the rock long ago. On its surface were scientific-looking markings and carved letters with the name of the peak and its elevation relative to the zero-point. The quaint public space marked the highest point on the mountain, but was immediately overshadowed by the constructed wall of rock next to it.

A set of stairs led from the park up to the top of the wall, and Ayleah climbed them, knowing the views would be limited anyway due to the clouds. Reaching the summit to find it languishing in the middle of a cloud had been somewhat disappointing; Ayleah reckoned the views on clear days down towards the river valleys must be spectacular. She was practicing the virtue of patience though, something she had learned in the meditation class back at the Sanctuary. In that class she found that experiences can happen on may different levels, all of which are a part of reality. Though the outside perception be clouded, the views of things nearer to oneself may be panoramic.

Blank gray and clinging mist where there should be a soaring and open reward for climbing is also a kind of zen lesson. The journey up the mountain had been enjoyable in its own ways, and so should not be dampened by one missed experience at the top. Each moment is its own moment, and two moments need not affect each other in a qualitative way. Just like in our three dimensions of space, we can learn more control over how points of time relate to each other.

In the moment of not seeing a view from the mountaintop, Ayleah knew she had a choice to re-examine the situation for its beautiful aspects. Oftentimes a person, place, or thing will have glorious and magical attributes which are not readily apparent from the natural casual perspective. If we cannot see the beautiful things of the world, we must engage in the act of shedding our perspectives and seeing those things with fresh eyes. The blankness of the cloud made her appreciate the meadows and tufty bushes on the rolling alpine terrain. Where gentle plants did not grow, there were sometimes sparkling puddles dispensed from the cloud. The village was all soft rocky hills and pleasant sandy lanes. It felt almost cozy, as if it were safe for once from the open sky.

The wind was a reminder though, of where she really was. Looking up, she could see streams of cloud moving fast over the mountain. Unseen, the wet air passed through town constantly with a rawness undimmed by any canopy of trees. Trees here cowered away from the wind, barely reaching the edge of the peak. Some that braved the ledges lay flat and grew mostly sideways all their life- all that the elements allowed. Ayleah shivered and tightened her coat. There was a rough staircase leading down the other side of the wall, and she began to descend thinking she would just walk back around on the outside street to re-enter the village center.

At the bottom of the stairs was what looked like another park. This one was less well-kept, but bore signs of use and appreciation nonetheless. It centered around a similar metal-paved area, and Ayleah looked for what it said, curious there should be another one so near. Its surface was older, with more marks of wear. Most of the numbers and engravings were the same, but where the other shinier one proclaimed “Abrahim”, this one named the summit “Pocock Hill”. Ayleah wondered if there was some significance to this, perhaps a local rift or change in government. When the old names of a place are removed, often they are forgotten entirely, only dredged up by some studious historian many decades later. If the new name has a narrower significance, or one shallower to meaning, that is a loss for the place. Here Ayleah noted the preservation of an old name, though it had been relegated to a space outside the walls of the central village.

Reflecting, she let her eyes wander over the rolling expansive landscape. From here the peak could be any height; just a bit of land among the rest. The fact that it was raised up so high, isolated and special, was a very complicated act of luck. Those who lived here seemed noticeably proud of their accomplishment, and each dwelling tucked under rock or moss or bush looked quainter and nicer than the last. Some were very basic, and the lifestyle here was certainly rustic, but the community was quiet and friendly to each other; everyone had their own reasons for being there, and could fairly easily choose their neighbors.

To the east, the trees closed in a bit more, forming small groves that hid meadows of lichen. Off in one of these meadows some distance from the wall Ayleah saw the orange-red eyes again. Kaeri must have also skipped the meeting with the Premir, and had gone for a stroll as well. They waved, and Ayleah walked over.

Rocks

 

Flor had never been up this high before either. He, Ayleah, and Atkins had bonded somewhat as the youngest members of the party, though among them Atkins had more experience in the mountains. She never held it over them, but she knew more about the clefts and crags of these rocky woods than most people of comparable age. She was also a capable scout, but had decided on this excursion to stick with the job of navigator. Raik was more than happy to tag along with his hover-bike and be their lookout.

Taking advantage of the break and good spirits at the top of the cliff, Atkins went over some charts with Jaen and Sutton, while Bellinda and the others checked over the vehicles again.

Ayleah and Flor wandered to the edge of the road and looked through the thin fence of spruce. They were now on a real outcrop of the mountain, and the land dropped precipitously beyond the line of trees. Blue sky showed through the lower branches. It was cooler up here too, with a raw wind penetrating the thin tree cover. It whipped and whistled around the steep rocky slopes. They both felt a thrill to think of how far they must be above the river valleys. All those verdant green lands were somewhere below; out there in that blue. From a low rounded boulder they could see only the edge of the slope. Some tips of trees fell away into a vast open expanse. Any other sight was still shrouded by the tangled lower branches of the evergreens.

The road here was narrow, with barely enough room for vehicles to pull off to the side. The group figured they should keep going while they were still making good time to the summit.

Flor hung back momentarily when Ayleah returned to the vans. There was something about her. Something he couldn't put words to, but it was there. She seemed special in some way, almost like when one enters a clearing in the woods and wonders why no one seems to know about it. The clearing is such a perfect spot for whatever leisure led you to the woods, but there is no sign labeling it as a feature, or marking of it on a map. It was not attraction he felt for this girl, but rather a worried curiosity. There could be something about her that was affecting their journey. Flor, being a technically-minded sort, looked for the influences of things and the mechanics of their activity. He saw Ayleah as a potential for chaos; uncontrollability in the system. That in itself was fine, but his worry was that there was something else, dark and sinister, behind her mechanics. He kept his eye on Ayleah when they got back in the vans. She seemed engrossed in her journal, writing a new entry. The more Flor studied her, the more she seemed like just a normal young woman with a sense of curiosity and adventure, no more.

The vehicles thumped softly up the road away from the dark chasm of the switchback ledge, but the mountain did not relent. Though none of the remaining ledges seemed quite as dangerous, the drivers were nevertheless given challenge enough. They ascended the sides of massive boulders and long tumbled fields of smaller ones flanked by incredibly steep woodland slopes. The dwellings were fewer now, true hermit shelters built into mossy cliffsides. A narrow band of sky above their path grew wider and wider as the trees became stunted and twisted from the constant winds. The rocks began to dominate more than anything else though, vast surfaces cleaned of dirt and moss by weather. They were light gray and banded through with bits of silver or whole stripes that would sparkle in the sun. Sometimes the group would pass near a whole side of a cliff gleaming as the sunlight pierced through clear pristine quartz. All along the giant rocks were dotted and colonized with hardy lichens, giving greenish hues to the rugged granite. Where repulsars or wheels had crushed the surface, the path sparkled with mica and crystal. It was hard, even for the older members of the party, to take the beauty of the high mountains for granted.

They were climbing one of the massive banded rocks, one where the vans had little choice of route but straight up the steep rough surface. As they slowly ascended, the gap of sky above them won its battle with the trees, the stunted spruce retreating to crevices in between the cliffs. It would have allowed the fullness of sun onto the wide granite surface, if there had been sun in the sky. Though it was a clear enough day, they had climbed now right into a dry cool fog. Clouds often lingered about the mountain peaks, Ayleah remembered now, wondering again at where she was.

Just above their way and to the left stood a round boulder at least sixty foot high from its base. It was natural and rough, but looked almost round enough to have been carved, and was comprised of pure white marble. Sutton turned to Jaen in the front of the first van. “Almost there.” he said with a grin.

The Ledge

 

At the trailhead clearing, he hadn't been aware enough. There had been violence and confusion so suddenly, and he had had to scramble his focus onto Ayleah and her safety. Bellinda and Sutton both had privately reassured him that Craig's death held no reflection of his ability as their captain. Both had done so fervently enough that Jaen felt somewhat bolstered, but was still shaken from the experience. It was his first command in the mountains, and success was the only path forward in his mind after the debacle at Norton Brook. It was not just a personal shame: throughout his life at the falls it had been a quiet undercurrent. Unspoken among his household was an expectation of him to continue the family's return to glory. He sometimes doubted the legitimacy of that glory, and fell to using his own achievements as a test of its truth.

One load of goods had stayed behind at the Battell village. The driver now rode in the other small van with one of their hired warrior-rangers. The three of them in that van were longtime friends and mountain veterans, so Jaen was able to trust them mostly to their own devices. They followed behind the two larger carriers, driven by himself and Bellinda. Raik was the party's forerunner, out ahead on the scout craft. He was a good man, even when his methods seemed unconventional. A foreigner, though from where no-one seemed to know. His eyes were always serious, but he had a jovial attitude and his skills as a ranger were undeniable.

The vans thumped softly uphill through beautiful old forests of moss and spruce. Jaen was proud of how he had handled his vehicle so far, flowing with the uneven terrain and careful not to jostle the supplies he carried or his passengers. More often now the ledges they had ascended were wholly sheets of rough sloping granite, and Jaen had felt his focus tighten as they followed thin furrows in the massive rocks. At the top of the first real ledge of this kind, they had stopped for a break. A painted woodland church towered over a quaint rocky square overlooking the cliff. The land here generally sloped down on both sides, this hamlet being one of the first quasi-summits on the mountain's south ridge. In previous days, they had felt only the steady climb of the mountain-side, but now it appeared clear that the road was leading them up a narrow spine. There was an air of excitement and the group had shared some supplies and conversation with the locals. The small community was lively and welcoming, curious about each expedition that came their way. This was the southern edge of the Mount Abrahim township, and thought of itself as a gateway village. Jaen's party found that they were well on track to make the summit by late afternoon, though the road ahead was steep and rough. Jaen had met with the other drivers before they left to discuss attack strategies for any rock ledges they might come across. With the blessings of the mountainside villagers, they continued on their way.

--

The immensity of the rock in front of him stirred his mind from its reflections. A smooth wall of gray lurched itself directly out of the roadway, which was forced sharply to the right. It carved a large switchback up the face, edging toward the scruffy roots of forest where it could. On the subsequent upper traverse, great scoops of rock had been carved away to give vehicles some sort of chance on the grade. It was larger and steeper than any of the other cliffs they had braved, but Jaen thought it didn't seem too difficult. Going carefully and steadily, they would easily make it, provided they also didn't look down from that traverse.

The party had slowed to a halt at the foot of the ledge, and Jaen got out and spoke to the others briefly. Sutton left the first van too, looking Jaen in the eyes during their conference.

“You're sure you're ready for this?” 

“Yes” Jaen answered, his eyes set. “We need eyes on the roadway up there so we don't stray an inch. That cliff is rounded, and if one repulsar leaves the grade the whole van could lose traction. I know if I can do it with you guiding.”

Satisfied, and understanding his captain's intent, Sutton joined Raik on the scout craft. They ascended together to the traverse, then Sutton climbed to a position higher on the grade. From there he could give direction to help guide the vans across. Raik continued on to the landing above the cliff and kept at the ready, holding a landing space for the other vehicles.

Then the smaller van with the mountain-born driver climbed up. It was far from their first time and they had a lighter craft, so they handily made it up the switchback and across the traverse. Sutton saluted them as they passed.

Jaen's van was next. He gave a reassuring grin to his two passengers in the back. Atkins and Ayleah both tried to mirror his confidence, but they also both knew they should be ready for Sutton to turn from guide to rescuer. Jaen knew Sutton could probably save his living cargo, should something go wrong, but he really needed to not lose the van as well. In addition to the scolding he would get from Bellinda, the summit townships were counting on their supplies.

The first climb was not so bad. The cleft next to the rock was steep and narrow, but the rough granite and tree roots gave good traction for the repulsars. They made it easily enough to the switchback, and turned to face the route across the top of the cliff. Jaen was immediately grateful for the work of whoever had carved out those scoops of rock. It would have been tough to shape this hardened ledge at all, but near impossible for any vehicle to traverse in its natural state. Carefully he began his crossing, with Sutton ahead and above on the slope indicating directions.

They were three-quarters of the way across when Jaen felt the first slip. Strangely, his first thought was for his passengers; there was a millisecond of panic for Ayleah over any other cargo he had. The next moment, as he readied to power through and get to the other side, the corner of his eye noticed something that stood out strangely to his perception. There was a grappling hook in the tool rack behind the passenger seat, and an intuition seemed to move his right hand automatically to reach for it. The steering wheel firm steady in his other hand, he nevertheless felt the second slip as it happened. This one was more significant; one of the repulsars had hit an irregularity in the grade and bounced its corner of the van off toward the sharp downhill slope. As the van fishtailed off the ledge, Jaen held steady and calm. His hand had fired the grapple a mere instant before the slide. One end lodged around a medium-sized spruce trunk, he held the other in his fist and pointed the van back uphill.

The grapple strained and Jaen gave more power to the repulsars, aiming them torward the landing as best he could. As they regained the grade Sutton joined the action, running along the top of the rock. Seeing Jaen's forward momentum, he cut the grapple line so they could reach the safety of the upper road where Raik was waiting.

Once safely parked by the scout craft and the small van, Jaen got out to check his cargo and help Sutton guide the last van up the cliff. This time they set up a grappling system beforehand, and working together the ascent went smoothly. Spirits were high in the group, and Jaen felt he had perhaps proved some ability to the rest of them. More importantly, he felt he had proved it to himself.

Evergreen Magic

 

A new bright sunny morning found teams at the Battell clearing ready to go on their days. While most of the traffic packed up and headed down towards the road junction, Jaen's group pointed their vehicles at the route uphill and began to make their way out of the village. The dirt road wound up through dense pine woods filled with the soft twinkle of woodland houses. An undergrowth of moss came out to line the walls of the way, still composed of the same glittery shale. The pitch seemed somewhat gentler than the road up to the ridge had been, but eventually they came across patches where it would steepen, gaining ever more elevation. At these points the surface would cut in like giant stair-steps to aid in the repulsors effort uphill. Local wheeled traffic had more difficulty with the stepped stretches, taking narrow routes up on the sides, or switch-backing the whole flight.

More often, it seemed locals shunned the main road, preferring their own routes threading along the slopes. Numerous cart-tracks forked off into thick moss and spruce, leading to ledges and pockets on the hillside. The driveways were often well-hidden, and Ayleah was sure they led to paradisaical groves whose tenders desired to keep forever secret from visiting eyes. The only trespassers the hermits accepted in their secluded mountain glens were the animals, as those were closer to a part of the land anyway.

The land was a wonder, even to those in the party who had been there before. Whole fuzzy green meadows stretched up and undulated into the distance under the spruce canopy. Moss completely dominated the stark mountain land, coating the surface of the forest floor and even reaching up some of the trees. Mushrooms made an appearance too; small glassy ones that poked gently from moss-laden cliffs and large towering toadstools with brightly-colored tops. Their frequency and placement was often influenced by the residents, accentuating homestead gardens. The signs of life about were many, as humble farms cut their little patches into the mossy glens. Rustic cart-tracks connected dwellings and small trading squares in a network of terraces along the slopes. All the time the mountain continued upward ahead of the travelers, steady and singular. The road wound back and forth but always in a northerly direction, ascending the slope of the peak.

Ayleah found she thought little of the others, or of recent events for a while, so enraptured was she in the sights of this mountain community. The land was not so harsh here, though somewhat isolated being a couple days travel from any city. Life seemed to thrive in a peaceful, contemplative way, taking good care of whatever it had available. The denizens looked to live a sparse life, but there was a glow of contentment nevertheless. Ayleah supposed it came from their security in undisturbed community up here on the mountain. That, and the clarity of the air here. Ayleah would sometimes stop what she was doing and just breathe the air, enjoying utterly the smells of the forest in all its blossoming and decay. She could take in with all senses at once the spruce needles and bark, the dirt, the bitter stone, the crisp air, and the undercurrent of animal musk. That out-breath was always a moment of complete peace.

Not one to give in easily though, the mountain revealed itself to them around a bend in the road. A small wayside and a more noticeable side-track proclaimed the first real rock ledge of their route. A whole sheet of stone, from their perspective nearly the size of a small city were it unearthed. It raised itself like the spine of some sea creature heaving up through the woods, shouldering aside the earth to expose and breathe the sky. The road ran in a direct line up to one side of the middle crest, bounded in a narrow crevice of the rock.

The group paused to check the vans; secure baggage and make sure the engines were at peak performance. Then one by one they began an ascent. The rock spine leveled off towards its summit, so the going was not so bad after an initial short effort. The crevice barely afforded space for any oncoming traffic though, so the drivers, especially Jaen and Bellinda, were grateful they did not encounter any. Once up the slope, the road left the crevice and crossed open rock between green woodland canopies. The spine continued up a bit more to the left, forming a miniature rocky peak among the pine glade. Here there was an inn and a more sizable collection of dwellings.

There had been a moment approaching the ledge that Ayleah had been apprehensive. This road had an intensity unknown to her previous woodland travels. She figured the others had been by this same exact ledge before, but it still felt dangerous and she was glad to reach the level spot below the pine knoll. She had been well-reassured by the casual skills of the driver of her van.

Heights

 

There was an air of soft excitement to the shelter camps. All around in the glow of numerous lights people plotted their adventures or told stories of nostalgia and love. At the edges of the lights others lulled to sleep by the quiet murmurs.

Ayleah stood at the edge of the shelter's opening, looking out into the night. The woodland glade which had been so lively during the day was quiet and empty. Here and there lights shone from the shrubby sides, either local dwellings or camps that shunned the enclosed community of the shelter. The spruce forest was a painting of shadows. The lights of homes dwindled as they climbed steep slopes beyond the market square. Thin trees supported a wiry canopy and sprouted from a moss-patched undulating carpet. Before she really had made the decision, she was down from the shelter and wandering along one of the forest lanes.

That whole afternoon had seemed a little dreamy actually. She had felt her spirit recover as they climbed the mountain, now over a full day's cycle past the incident at the trailhead. The magical scenery had been a good distraction, but she still had desired to slip away from the group by the time twilight came.

After dinner, she had gone to explore the shelter-village, ending up at the edge of the opening, looking out. It felt almost as if she had been drugged for the past few hours, only now waking up from that sort of dreamy state. There was no reason to think she had been, only that the encounter with and arrival of Kaeri in their group had been so odd and strangely notable to her. Ayleah reasoned that the compilation of all those thoughts, feelings, and perceptions were the reason behind her solo evening walk.

For just a moment the body was in shadow, with only a pair of reddish eyes staring back at her from the darkened glade. Then the guest themself stepped forward, seeming to materialize on the path. Kaeri looked more masculine than they had earlier, wrapped in a short but substantial cloak of deepest green. Their face was hooded, but exuded only friendliness upon seeing Ayleah.

“Decided on a twilit walk as well Ms. Pine?”

This felt right, though she had come here to be on her own. “I've just had so much on my mind lately. I needed some time away from the others to put it all together.” she took a deep breath. “The air is really nice out here too.”

They stopped at a spot where deep blue sky could be seen past the falling slope to the south. Kaeri looked at her curiously. “Why did you come up here?”

Ayleah was somewhat startled by the question. This person surely was connected with the peripheral orange flashes she had been seeing for some time now. Was Kaeri simply a pawn for whatever energies were trying to help her? If they truly were some sort of aetheric being, then what was the purpose of this question? And how should she answer, especially given the time and place? She tried not to stall too long, but thought about the words as they came.

“I suppose, I felt I had to. My mentor, to whom I've pledged my service in education, has not been heard from in over a moon-cycle. He should have reported by now, and I'm concerned for his safety traveling on his own in the hills.”

“Are you really that concerned? Telon is a master scholar from the Queen Cities. I am sure he has traveled solo to the mountains before now and can take care of himself. If you respect him so much as a teacher, you should be aware of that much as well.”

Ayleah bit her lip, ultra-aware again of her surroundings. “I guess...you're kind of right. I know he's much more well-equipped for this sort of expedition than I am. But I still feel like I should be here, like I was drawn to this village by something. Curiosity, maybe, what else?”

“I don't doubt you crave adventure, as you should.” Kaeri said, grinning. “I certainly thrive on it and almost can't understand anyone who doesn't. Your curiosity is possibly your best trait Ayleah. Why did you get on the wrong LDT from the Sanctuary?”

Ayleah looked confused for a moment. “I got the schedules mixed up. Left at the wrong time, and didn't want to wait another week for a shuttle to the mountains.”

“That's not like you though, to mix up an important plan.” Kaeri returned.

“If I hadn't, if I had left on time-”

“You would never have met Jaen, or his fine companions.”

Kaeri let the silence fall; waited for Ayleah to speak next.

“Who are you?”

“Like I said, I give my name as Kae-ri. I can promise I will be a friend and an aid to you when I can. You, Ayleah, are one of the few humans that seems to be able to sense the connecting energies of things. Now, don't for a minute think you're special: any one of you should be able to sense that aspect of the world. I just find it fascinating when one of your kind takes the time to appreciate the world around them enough that it ceases to be invisible to them. Some might have malicious intent, but one who would be my friend? That is a real treasure, and one I would gladly fight for.”

“It really has always been you?” Ayleah turned to look fully at the other, only now appreciating the fact. “You keep talking about 'my kind'. What kind are you?”

Kaeri smiled again and looked away. “I am without that sort of distinction. I once was a frog who remembered they used to be a rock. My life changed dramatically from that moment. I have been many things, but I still enjoy being rocks from time to time.” they sounded half joking, half wistful.

Ayleah's mind was running with the things she had learned at the Sanctuary. “With Telon, and with the other scholars, I learned about the energy of places and objects. You're...like a magical place come to life!”

“Your scholars get some of that wrong. There is no place that has more energy than another. Perhaps one that is more polished, or harmonious, or suited for a certain activity. But the whole of reality is one pool of energy. That is why I can be anything, because I know that it's all the same.” the robe had been replaced at some point by a well-tailored dark red suit. “You are not special because you have a connection to the magical energies of the world. You are fortunate to have developed exceptional powers of perception towards them. It has given you a power of luck, and only led you astray once so far. You should be aware of how you cultivate your connection and which energies you connect with.” Kaeri looked Ayleah square in the face, their deep russet eyes betraying a playfulness behind the steadfast gaze. “Above all, enjoy this life! If there is one thing I have learned in my travels it is that life is a wondrous gift; an opportunity of working in this beautiful world. Don't let whatever destiny be a weight: let it sweep you, soaring, to the heights.”

Kae-ri

 

What struck Ayleah most was not the sight of the familiar color and its cue in her mind, but rather an accompanying surge of feeling that had the party not already decided to stop at the glade, she would have pressed them to do so. The person on the rock had been staring at her as they passed, not the vans in general, but her specifically it seemed. It seemed crazy, because it didn't seem to her she would be very visible from that high vantage point. She felt a meeting of the eyes as she looked through her window though, and there was a slight magnetic draw, like the poles of two universes had momentarily aligned. Now as the group pulled their vehicles into a large clearing by the roadside, the person on the rock leapt gracefully down and approached almost casually.

They were an adolescent youth, it appeared, of indeterminate gender. Dressed simply, as a villager of the mountains and carrying a fine walking staff along with a shoulder-purse. Sutton was the first out of the vans, noticing the stranger and ever wary of a trap. Jaen also descended from the cab and regarded the youth, somewhat less cautiously than his guardsman. He held out a hand indicating Sutton could relax for now. He approached the villager, who still had not addressed them.

“Can we help you? Do you desire passage up-hill?”

The other nodded, but their gaze and stance remained firm. Sutton fidgeted, his eyes combing the woods around for signs of trouble. The mountain-side store stood a little ways away, and Bellinda's van had already begun to head over for some necessities.

Jaen spoke again, indicating Bellinda's group: “Well, we have room in our second van, but we are on a tight schedule so we'll be moving on soon.” When the other simply held his gaze and still said nothing, he furrowed his brow and glanced at Sutton: “Do they not understand me?”

Sutton's gaze though was now fixed on the stranger, his hand moving by the millimeter for his sword hilt. In response to Jaen's last words however, the youth held up with both hands a small pine branch with fresh green sprouted tips. They did it almost solemnly, but their face was soft and light with a contained child-like joy. Ayleah saw from her window and something seemed to click in her mind. She got out of the van and approached the stranger, despite Jaen and Sutton's exhortations to the contrary. The other only stood there with a slight orange aura about them, looking at her with an expression of intrigue. She wondered if that faint glow was only in her mind, and as she tried to focus it seemed to fade all the more. Time seemed to her extraordinarily vivid, as if slowed by her very awareness of each and every moment, and the glow was now all about the periphery of her vision – dissapating into the trees. Taking the pine bough from the other, she asked their name. Whether or not the lips actually moved, all in the vicinity could clearly hear. “Kae-ri”, they said, and the trailing edges of their voice seemed to meld with the forest around.

Then they were on their way again. Jaen and Sutton sat in command of the first van, eyes on the alert for dangers of the forest roads. Ayleah sat behind with Atkins, discussing the hitchhiker. To Ayleah it seemed significant, though she couldn't say how. The orange glow had always seemed to be helping her when it appeared before, and maybe this youth knew something about Telon. At their stops she had asked if anyone had seen the scholar but gotten nothing. He must have come this way, and would have been of note to the sharp-eyed woodsfolk. When they stopped for the night perhaps she would have time to chat with the newcomer. In any case she knew Kaeri belonged with their party because of the pine branch. It had been an odd sort of answer for why they wished passage with this particular party, but a startling one. The symbolism of the 'young Pine' had not been lost on at least a couple of the group.

The road above the halfway glade had increasingly become a series of narrow washed-out dells. Dense walls of evergreens marched along the tops of rock walls carved by rain and runoff from the mountain. The steadily climbing surface glittered with flashes of mica and quartz and the entire land began to change into one of moss and gems. Under the stiff boughs of spruce and fir was an undulating land of decay. Lush green moss meadows interspersed with barren hollows where the death side of the cycle predominated. Sometimes the club-moss on the banks grew so tall that it looked to Ayleah like townspeople watching them pass. The little friendly beings stood there in ranks among the newborn evergreens. Every size of dark green growing thing was represented here, from the giant older trees that formed the canopy to the little club-mosses, only six- or seven-feet tall on their lichen lawns. Ayleah looked them as they passed, quietly alarmed by their personalities. They were the true denizens of the land, outnumbering the mobile fauna and human travelers. They each chose a spot to live their whole life, some reclining under dappling boughs and others bravely standing on the rocky edges of the world. They tended their mossy yards, admired the unintended artwork of an acorn or spiderweb, and observed all the vibrancy of life as it went by around them. The vans climbed higher, and the forest took them in.