Blue Spruce

 

It happened one midday, as she was delivering goods to the market storehouse. Isak owned a permanent stall at the peak square, and a cellar near by the edge of the woods that was kept stocked to reduce trips from the farm. The sky was clear, and reflected the condition of her spirit as well. Of recent days she had felt lighter, and more sure in herself than ever before. It was as if a brooding sort of presence had lifted from her being after this time working in the mountain air. It had been a nurturing presence, and one which offered her a good place for reflective thoughts and internal work. It had been necessary but oppressive over a period of time. Ayleah had treated the farm as a sort of cloister, where she could engage in simple, honest labor that allowed her mind the freedom to reset and refresh; to stop reflecting as much and just be. She was much less worried about her previous quest, knowing that the only way forward had been through self-discovery. There would always be more to discover about her self, but now she felt empowered, not just for continuing her search, but with regard to her understanding of the world.

In any case, she knew it was time to leave Isak's farm. Crossing the open hilltop of Lincoln Peak, she noticed the waning but still bulging moon high in the blue air. It had passed fully through more than three of its cycles since she had come to the farm. Isak had been the most consummate host, giving her the space for her own thoughts, while lending a supportive ear when she needed one. He did not love her, or rather, he did, but not in the way Ayleah had usually thought of love before. He cared for her as closely as a friend could, sharing on the whole selflessly with his guests, her included. More than that though, he accepted her presence on the farm as a matter of fact. Nothing she shared with him from her day's work was ever received with judgment or reproach. He simply seemed open in mind and heart to the people around him for some reason. The two of them shared a rural upbringing, and so Ayleah had begun to feel more and more at home with the young farmer. She would miss him, but knew she could not stay here. Not yet at least.

Kae-ri had not been seen since their arrival at the dual peaks, though Ayleah felt sure the elemental being was still around. There was something about the sunlight that sometimes looked more orange than usual, or a gleam from a wet spot on the ground. She felt Kae-ri's presence about her life at the farm, like a backdrop, or transparent filter over everything. It was not constant, or over-bearing, and she wondered if her new sense of clarity was at all related. It could be that she had been working with Kae-ri this whole time, meditating as she had been on the self and its place in the world. There had been moments when the internal dialogue had felt not entirely her own. It was a disquieting thought, but she assured herself by her current state of clarity. If Kae-ri had been haunting her, they seemed to have moved on now, perhaps because they had served their purpose as teacher. If so, Ayleah hoped she would see them again sometime: it would be nice to give them thanks.

Returning to the now empty cart, she considered the sobering side of her motivation this morning. The search for Telon would be far from easy, as she still had no real idea of where or how to begin again. It had been a good while now, and, and she almost thought she could see his features in the spruce trees that ringed the cleared summit. Some of the trees even looked wholly like hooded figures, their needles a blueish teal in the sunlight. Ayleah shook her head, it was as if her thoughts this morning had reawakened the purpose that drove her up here in the first place, and now her perceptions were overloading, seeing patterns of her goal that weren't there. He couldn't be there, those are just the same trees that have always stood there. She could even see the branches, and a bird flitting from one trunk to another. The needles did look awfully blue though, and some of the branches hung down, packed together almost like a cloth-texture. She thought of the ceremonial pine-coats she had seen in some of her studies of the native hill-folk, and wondered whether those costumes were comfortable. Then she saw the eyes. Just above where a thin branch curved across the open space, coming from nowhere between the hanging branches, were a set of lights. They gave only the softest glow, but their position and demeanor were unmistakable.

Ayleah gave a start, and dashed to the edge of the clearing, keeping her eyes carefully on the apparition. As she got closer its shape resolved more and more. It was her mentor, his blue cloak emerging from the drooping needles, and a kind, though slightly strained, face floating within. He gave the slightest turn in her direction, as a way of recognition, and then spoke in a voice that could have been a part of the breeze. The words were sparse: “Come to Burnt Rock, peak.”, even the preposition was more implied than spoken. Ayleah heard the words more clearly in her mind than through her ears, and as soon as they were said the apparition vanished. Once more she stared only at a blank canvas of forest.