Death

One day, during Ayleah's time at the Sanctuary, a teacher had entered the classroom dressed in a cloak of pure white rather than the brown or greenish tones they were used to seeing. As the scholar walked and turned, one could see the underside of the robe and the underclothes were of a rich fathomless black. The teacher was one they all knew, but the raiment was unusual and drew the attention of the class.

The teacher began with little in the way of introduction, never mentioning the garments.

“The topic today is one which is, unfortunately, applicable for all ages. It is namely the one which plagues us all, young and old, and especially those who would desire to remain ageless. It is the inescapable destiny of us all, and one of which we must not be afraid.

The pauses in the lecture that day could be felt more tangibly than usual.

“You here, in this room, are so beholden to this world that whether through your negligence or another's malice harm may come to you. This fact means that you are mortal and thus already know something about this topic of death. As mortals you have experienced greater or lesser versions of death as you go about living. Death conditions us, in pieces, for that ultimate fate, and to be afraid of death is to be afraid of the greatest lessons that life has to teach us.”

The skylights in the sweetwood house were only a passive grey, though it was late in the morning. Dull clouds thoroughly but thinly blocked the sun that day, though Ayleah could remember a few beams shining through later in the afternoon. The air in the classroom that morning though had still felt of the rain the night before. The class sat thinking about their own experiences of death, each showing a different place on the spectrum from solemn to intrigued. For her part, Ayleah thought about the sheer heights of the cliffs back home on the lake-shore, and those who must have gone that way in the history of her town. She mostly focused on the teacher though, who seemed to be imparting the importance of the moment.

“Life is the precious experience of which we have all been chanced with the opportunity. It holds rare delights in both exploration and reflection, but takes some work to nurture properly. If one is to have a satisfying life, one must find at least small purposes, reasons that is, to persist in living.

“Some find a grand purpose that commands a course for their life, but a collection of smaller, similarly-directed ones will do just as well. With a foundation of purpose, one can sketch a map of sorts for one's life. Our goals and dreams act as way-stations between death and where each of us is in the present, but it is important to not lose sight of that ultimate path. We often mistake the goals and dreams for the final destination as a way of tricking ourselves into not reckoning with our ultimate mortality. It is important to remember that while we may know somewhat the points along the way, we do not know the scale of the journey. Through various efforts we can try and maximize the length and impact of our journey, but we are blessed without the exact knowledge of our expiration. That moment is shrouded in the mists of the future.

“Above all, it is important to remember not to cling to those aspects of life which we find along the way. There are many things in life we may come to love or hate, and it is these things which can bring desire. Our emotions do not easily understand that the constant state of reality is a flow; everything changes in some way eventually. It is often folly of ours that we attempt to decide when something enters or leaves our reality. There are even those who teach that that clinging is the whole root of our worldly suffering-that desires themselves are the cause of any pain we feel. This leads to the question of whether there can be a life free from suffering. Death is inevitable, but how can we get there safely?

“Let us take the word 'being' as a verb state describing our navigation of the flow of existence. Most of us will admit that to simply 'be' is not enough, and we feel stagnant just loafing around in our lively energies. A desire for purpose shows us that we must 'be-toward' something; we must exist in a state of being that moves us forward along a flow of reality and life with all its numerous attributes. These attributes will flow past or through our way, and we react appropriately, attempting not to judge or cling to that which is external.

“If we are not self-deceived, we will know our being is directed toward death, and that the destination is inevitable. We need not worry, that port will guide us safely home in any weather. What we do get to direct is the course between here and there. We have opportunities at every turn to alter our place in the flow, or to take other streams that meander through the countryside. Each stream or current of life will flow to the sea, but there are an infinite number of ways to get there. If we live consciously and well, not only will we be able to slow the rate of our journey to that dark and fathomless sea, we will also have the presence of awareness to notice more of the scenery along the way. Being-towards our own mortal demise, as mysterious as it ever will be, lends us the perspective to lead a better life.”

Ayleah though of Craig. Had he contemplated his own mortality? Though they were smart enough, these people in the caravan were mostly not scholars. They had a different understanding of and perspective on life. She suspected it all came down to the same things though. As the teacher had said, everyone knows something about death, so long as they are mortal. She thought about the path her own life was on; her journey from the lake-shore to this rugged mountainside, climbing a rocky road with a band of rangers. She hoped Telon was alright. She knew she should never have been as worried about him as she had been, but that fear had never truly been rational. She felt something had shifted in the world, and felt that it was tied to her relationship with him somehow. These were feelings half dreamt, and not disclosed to anyone on her voyage to the falls or with her new friends. Maybe Niisi would have understood, but Ayleah herself wasn't sure what she was feeling. Only that she needed to see Telon again.

The teacher had continued, expanding on the importance of her topic. “Death not only gives us a perspective on our own lives, but on the nature of life in general. As everything dies, first everything also needs nourishment in order to grow. There is no answer to which came first: the nutrients must exist for life to sprout, and sprouted growth must give way for nutrients to germinate. The eternal cycle is one of growth, propagation, and death of the previous generations. This cycle feeds a continual engine of reality into which we are born; a universal balance to which we are given a tiny part of the reins. In the wild and in our tamed fields alike, we see this cycle with plants. A green thing grows, produces, and dies, decaying into soil and substrate for the next to grow in its place. Each being has its own cyclical nature, some completing that cycle faster than others. While we can see the relationship the generations of plants have with the cycle of death more readily, it seems our own cycles easily elude our perception. Humans live longer and more complex lives, lives which readily distract them from the grand flows of reality. We are not so simple in our cycles as the plants or even the animals of this world, but our greater power demands that we try and grasp them anyway. We have, through no choice of our own, a responsibility to be aware of our generational cycles and the influence they can have as we move forward in the flow...”

A little ways in front of her, she could see Jaen sitting in the drivers seat of the transport. They were at the head of the group with Sutton and Atkins, the navigator who had been mistaken for Ayleah in the fight. Though the mood was somber, Jaen's helm still gleamed softly in the dappled light of the woods. She stared at him for a bit, then realized she had still been in shock from the sudden brutality of the fight. She closed her eyes and settled deeper into her seat, listening to the soft sounds of the woods floating above the whir of engines. Those sounds were immortal, and knew not the burdens travelers listening and passing by.