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.