Andrus and Ayleah

 

When the identified vehicle arrived, the guards pulled it to the side and began their usual process of examining the vehicle and its contents. The passengers got out, reluctantly as they always did within sight of the guard-post. There were two brothers, one of which had produced papers and seemed to be having a surly conversation with the lead guardsman. The other kept a protective eye about the camp, staying close to the vehicle. His energy seemed to shelter the two young women they had with them, who Andrus supposed might be their sisters. They did look somewhat alike, but there was something strange about them. One of the sisters stood out weirdly to his awareness, as if she was sharper or more saturated than anything else in the scene about him. Before he had fully registered it, he was moving towards the group. He was not a person ignorant of how places and people could have energetic signatures, and this woman gave off an intriguing glow.

---

-

The hauler thumped softly across the long metal grating of the bridge deck. They drove out into open space, following and followed by military cruisers. To each side lay a great river, but it looked only like a postcard or image in a book, so far removed as it was from their senses in the vehicle. Ayleah was astonished by the bridge itself almost more than the vast view of the great Winniaska. It held its own weight with cables almost as thick as a person is tall, and those drooped with impossible grace as they reached the center of the span. As they moved across she could feel the tension around and below them as the bridge and cables took and supported their weight. It was a barely perceivable sense, but the immensity of it relative to her fragile life touched her at the core of her being. This was a transition, a true movement from one place to another, symbolized comically well by the energy transfer of a bridge. She wondered if that guard-captain could sense the bridge's energy; she wondered if he could sense her own.

---

“What is your relation to these people you are with?” Andrus asked the young woman when they were alone in the small boxy field office on the north side of the bridge.

“I-I'm their sister.” She managed, hopefully with a tone of curious innocence. Andrus took down the note, but now that she said it he did not believe it for a second. Nevertheless he let the lie slide and continued on: “Have you ever had contact with another member of the armed forces? Have you had any contact with someone who may have been a member of the armed forces in the past five moons?”

She paused minutely to think and then: “No, never.” she sounded more confident now.

Andrus held up a photo. “Have you ever met, or otherwise seen this person?”

Ayleah looked at the photo he held up of an adult woman older than herself, with short blond hair and a stiff-pressed collar. “No, I don't recognize her” she responded.

The man across the table stared at her. His eyes were an inscrutable gray, trained to betray nothing about the person inside. He had a physical build and energy that were different from the people she knew had grown up in the region. Faced with his foreign slippery energy, she refocused her own efforts at simply sliding by. She though about how small, barely visible, and not worth his time she was.

The military commander sighed, and looked away again. Grasping at straws like this was tiring. Riannath and her men were fugitives of the Imperium, why would they trust simple travelers with anything important? Andrus looked back at the young woman across from him. Her eyes held no trace of guilt or anger towards him. In fact she seemed strangely unguarded in his presence. He had no sense of her inner self, but reasoned that was likely because she had nothing complicated to hide. This woman was simply relaxed and assured of her innocence. He wondered why he had even taken an interest in them in the first place.

Out at the hauler, the guards had completed another search, further annoying Thom and Nate. The two brothers were now sat muttering about overreaching governments and the military complex across a slightly exasperated Meral. They stopped when Ayleah came back out of the low office building followed by Andrus. The acting-commander had a brief chat with a guardsman, who reported nothing suspicious about the vehicle or the other three siblings. Andrus looked to the little surly group, and suddenly had a thought to call for a boat. The young woman he had just been speaking with apparently had important business downriver and the Imperial forces would be glad to help her on her way.

The soldiers who went to ready the extra boat were loyal to their duty and were probably the least surprised at Andrus' order. Ayleah knew enough to trust when things seem to magically work out, and quickly made to gather her things and say goodbye to the Ravaels. Despite time being short, they were able to give her a proper send-off at the riverbank, and she was able to thank them profusely for all they had done for her. She knew they might never meet again, but held a quiet hope in her heart, as she did with all partings.

As she took command of the small military boat and motored it out into the wide river, she noticed a large blue duffel bag next to her. It was the same one that had been in the back seat of the hauler, but she had never seen it moved out or into the boat. “That's a pretty neat trick you pulled” she said, but the bag didn't address her back. Oh well she thought, I'll let him sleep a while longer. Maybe he can't wake up with anybody watching anyway. She occupied herself with the steering, watching the wooded muddy banks drift by.

---

When Andrus left the guard-post at the south end of the bridge, he took a few men with him to escort the hauler, and this necessitated a slight reorganization at the checkpoint. There also happened to be a change of shift at the time, and so for a few minutes there was much mobilization and movement of personnel. In the bustle, it may have been that a far corner of the blockade was less steadily watched. For at that moment a single individual emerged from the brush and slipped through, his light green cloak catching the sun like falling leaves as he stepped towards the west.

Act-CDR. Elgheny

 

Andrus Elgheny had never pictured these far-flung northern landscapes as the place he would serve the Imperium. There was too much rural land here; not enough of the order the metropolis enforced. At times he yearned for the storied walls and mega-cities of his home down south. Their stones held so much potency of will and governmental drive. The stones here held power too, but it was untamed and crude: its stories were not decent for his ears.

The people were similar to their environment as well. The local folk seemed mostly uncaring or even ignorant entirely of the workings and dealings above them. They considered Imperial concerns not relevant to the livelihood of their farms or craft shops. In their minds the quaint villages would go about just fine with or without the oversight of the Empire, and the presence of any kind of non-local law enforcement was met with annoyance or dirty looks. This despite all the good the Imperium did to ensure the continuity of that livelihood the villagers enjoyed. Anyone with proper sense could see that their bucolic pleasantries would collapse without Imperial systems behind the scenes. For many reasons Andrus had never developed a better relationship with the local folk, preferring to keep the populace at a good distance. In his figuring, his own job only required him to be in contact with the heads of the local forts and his liaisons back in the District. Any other fraternization was entirely optional.

Andrus' position was the official ambassador of the Imperium to Fort Ettan-Jhonson and the training grounds on the west flanks of the Green Mountains. In his assignment he was required to work with the local commanding officer, in this case a one Riannath Emberly. She was an excellent commander, though unfortunately strong-willed and too perceptive for his own purposes. It was actually her best qualities that had gotten her into trouble, Andrus reflected. She had always been less malleable than desired to the Imperium's requests, but he had usually been able to convince her of the wisdom of their council in the end. The fort was there to serve the interests of the Empire after all, not for its own sake or that of the locals. Lately though she had gotten obsessed with this notion of a mysterious change in the environment, giving credence to folktales and hearsay. Obviously he had not been able to dissuade her this time.

Andrus knew something was happening of course. He had perception himself enough to sense an ecological shifting of patterns. He also had orders though: an understanding from offices above his that such shifting of patterns were not his concern, and orders to make sure they were not the public's as well. No one would put much credit in rumors, but if an officer directed resources to investigating the situation...it could give power to the ideas and cause panic or worse. Andrus had tried to make Riannath understand this as well- to leave the stories as a hobby, but it seemed she could not be convinced to let it go. Maybe she had simply gone out on a longer patrol to clear her head, but he couldn't be sure of that. All he wanted to do was talk to her again, and to try to convince her more seriously.

When he first contacted his liaison at the Imperium office with his concern, he was given full control of the fort until its commanding officer could be found and either reinstated or replaced. Thus empowered he had quietly mobilized forces and established search teams in the surrounding hills as well as a blockade in the narrow part of the Winniaska valley to the east. He had confidence in his choice of a front line: there was a likelihood that Riannath had fled to the Pellier Mounts, and a danger that she would return from the capitol region with reinforcements. These would come in the form of mage-scholars and government officials, both of which would seriously complicate the situation. He had to control the flow of information from the east. The captains of the mountain warfare training facility had remained loyal to the Empire, and were watching all points entering from the north. The metro area was secure, and there was nothing to worry about from the south. That broad rolling land of soft hills south of the Winniaska was dominated by small farms and backwater forests. Andrus thought little of defending from that direction, figuring any retreat south by the rebellious commander was as good as exile.

Acting-Commander Elgheny liked to be at the front line of his operation. He wanted to be on the scene should there be a sighting of Riannath or any of her rebel soldiers. However, the post by the river crossing had been somewhat boring so far. Not many folks traveled past this point, or even crossed the bridge, and those that did were mostly farmers who found the extra questioning bothersome. Occasionally there would be an unaccounted traveler who would have to submit to a search. They were shady folk, but harmless and disgruntled by his soldiers' presence. Even carrying nothing suspicious, these travelers were often turned around and pointed back the way they came. Andrus couldn't risk letting communication through of any kind.

They had established a fore-guard down at the small brookside village nearby, much to the vexation of the villagers. It was only a temporary imposition until they had a better lead on the missing commandant, but there were brief moments when Andrus wondered if their operation here was worthwhile. At very least it was an attractive site: the small command bastion perched on a high bank above the river. Deep reflective water swirled by below, and the shining suspension bridge arced gracefully across to rich forest on the other side. The view would have been inspiring even without the bustle of soldiers.

One day around mid-morning he received a chirp from the fore-guard that a hauler had arrived at the checkpoint. It seemed it was another set of long-trail-trippers, this time a set of siblings on their way north. They only relayed traveler details up to the main post if they had stopped a non-local, or if they had reason to suspect the person. Andrus called back to send the hauler up to the bridge. Most likely it would be uninteresting. Another case of ruining some traveler's day by telling them they would have to find another way into the northern mountains.

Riverlands

 

Ayleah stood on the open rock, watching the water below. It was entrancing, nearly hypnotic as it constantly swirled around the small point, reforming its direction. Because of the motion, she had to keep reminding herself that it was a river she watched, not a lake. She had never seen a river like this; even the waters of Bartlett's falls didn't have this weight of volume. The water here looked deep and mysterious. Mountain courses carried the secrets of squirrels and spruce, giggling in their delight for life. These currents seemed to know more of the human condition and the vastness of the world. Their jests were much more saturnine and meaningful.

Ayleah had been cautioned about rivers in her lessons from Telon. It had come up in a discussion about scrying. Gazing at a surface of water could be a useful form of centering meditation, and even divination, through proper practice. He had said though that one had to be careful when choosing a body of water for the technique though; it was easy to find oneself out of a comfortable depth. Rivers too, he said, were something to be aware of. They were fine for contemplation, but in settled meditation one might find the spirit getting carried away, or muddied with whatever energies are coming from upstream. This river before her now carried a great medley of feelings with its flow, and Ayleah did not want to connect too closely with its energy, no matter how awe-inspiring it might be.

The rock's name was Prurence, a holdover from some colonial time. It still hosted a small community: elderly houses clinging to a wooded hillside above the river. There was also a general store, where the Ravaels were procuring necessities for the next leg of their journey. Telon had gone with to judge the current tenor of the village. Ayleah however had felt drawn to the water, unused as she was to seeing a grand valley river. So this is the Winniaska, she thought, cutting its way through the mountains. It came from beyond the Pellier Mounts, from places she had only ever thought of in story. It flowed through massive dams and metropolitan areas before emptying into the inland sea. The sea she knew, and it was barely conceivable that these lively wizened waters could become one with that body of dreams. Standing on the rock watching the swirls, Ayleah felt the weight of that water's journey as it swelled and grew in its course. She felt its apprehension and its passionate drive, and knew they were the same as her own. The river was only a projection of her own path; her own journey through the course of her life. It seemed such a trite philosophical realization, but the meta-understanding was that many people had had the same thought. Not only did she have the responsibility of her own flow, she was forced to know that her path was nothing special. Each person has the same power to shape the world they see in the river before them. The thought made her happily calm, and she felt ready to face whatever awaited them in the valley.

---

They drove along the edge of a great meadow, near the river through sandy woodlands. Nathan drove slowly and steadily, watching for any signs of trouble. He hoped the riverside road was usually this calm. Nate and his brother had agreed to ferry their two potentially suspicious passengers across the river only through a sense of moral good in the cause. They both had fervent belief in the freedom of one to travel where they will, and had not yet uncovered anything ill-willed about the scholar Telon or his apprentice Ayleah. Still, they were protective of their sister Meral, and wished to get back soon to the more relaxed trip they had originally planned. Nathan glanced back at the passengers and saw with some puzzlement that Telon had fallen asleep, his blue hood pulled across his face.

---

The village had been quite nice, and in friendlier times probably would be again. It spanned a shallow creek that coursed rapidly between upraised forest banks. Movable wooden bridges crossed the running waters, taking advantage of bare rock islands here and there. At present though these were either pulled in, or shattered among the eddies. The crossing was closed, and barricaded at the far side by men with black shields and ray-walls. Immediately upon entering the shuttered town, their hauler was escorted to a checkpoint along a side road. Thomas and Nate looked at each other, bracing for whatever alibi they might need to reach for, if any.

The guard came around to the driver's cab and Nathan handed over his proof of ownership.

“Just passing through on a sightseeing trip with my family.” he said. “We're bound north into the hills.”

The guard gave a cursory look at the passengers, but the brother and two young sisters didn't seem suspicious, and the large blue duffel bag next to them gave proof they were on a trip. No scholarly dissidents here. It did seem strange to him that the driver had used the phrase “his family” to describe just himself and his siblings. Nevertheless he handed the papers back and stepped away from the vehicle. “Move along to the next checkpoint. You'll talk to Andrus at the bridge.” he said as he waved them through.

---

At the bridge the guards looked more formidable. They flanked the long-distance roadway as well as the entrance to the high suspension river crossing, effectively sealing off any travel to the rest of the valley from this point. A command post perched on the edge of the riverbank, flying high a flag with hands reaching for a star-field, green on black. Traffic was being directed to a checkpoint near the command post before being either allowed through one way or the other, or being turned back. It seemed like most were being turned back.

As they approached their turn in line, a guard noticed their hauler and waved them over to the side.

“We've had an order to give heavy-haulers like yours an extra search. You'll have to step out of the vehicle.” Reluctantly, Nathan parked the van and the four of them stepped out of the passenger compartment. Ayleah and Meral kept close together, and Thom spoke with the guards while Nate kept an eye on their surroundings. The military personnel seemed preoccupied enough with the doings of the checkpoint; they were not the only ones getting searched. Once the guards had had a look in the back of the hauler they would surely see the little group had nothing to hide and would let them go. There was something nagging at the back of his mind though, something he felt was missing...

-Nathan's worry was forgotten when he noticed one of the military men stand out from the rest. The commander stood at the entrance of some sort of operations center, watching their search. He was tall and thin, with a serious manner and a number of decorations to his armor to prove it. The leader's air was almost casual though. He watched them with a faint curiosity, unbothered by the militant business around him. As Nate watched in turn, the commander began to come toward them, clearly more deeply interested in the proceedings.

Thom had just been explaining the nature of their wilderness vacation trip and the reasons why a set of siblings might want to undertake such an endeavor, when they were interrupted by the chief of the operation in his flashy armor.

“This hauler is to be escorted to my field office across the bridge immediately.” he ordered of the guards standing with Thom. “I wish to speak with one of these travelers. Leave all their belongings with them and follow my transport.” He glanced at Ayleah before walking away, leaving them all slightly stunned.

Descending

 

Most of my thoughts today were spent in contemplation of these wonderful mountains: their rocks and woods. I've spent a good deal of time up here among the high places, and I think I'm all-around the better for it. These mountains have such amazing energy, emanating from the earth in all places. Equally charming are the open granite ledges and the mossy glens. All elements are intense, from the kiss of a closer sun to the depth of mud in a hidden pool. Sometimes I only realize I've gotten used to it when another incredible aspect reveals itself to overwhelm me. I know that soon we'll leave the mountains and head into the grand river valley. Who knows what sort of adventures I'll find myself in there, and if I will ever return to these high places again? Does anyone know the last time that they are at a place, especially one that is cherished? How do you say goodbye as if it isn't the last time, knowing very well that it might be? Today I worked with my own energy and the connection it's formed naturally with that of the mountains. I've separated from places before, but not quite on this scale. I didn't think of it when we ascended to Battell because I knew I wasn't coming to the mountains to stay. At the time though, I didn't know what was up here.

Tomorrow we will begin our proper descent into the Winniaska Valley. There is a particularly difficult ledge coming up that the Ravaels wanted to tackle in the morning light. I thoroughly enjoyed my last full day in the mountain energy - we passed by small settlements along the top of a wide rocky ridge. In many places the road was open to the sun, and everyone we passed had an air of pleasant livelihood. Late in the afternoon we came upon a beautiful Brotherhood Temple, and the group agreed when I suggested we stop. I was able to take a moment to enter the temple and pay my proper respects to the land I've been living and working with for the past few moons. I gave thanks for what lessons and powers it brought me, and left it with a blessing for its continued prosperity as my energy now departs.

––

The group descended the steep root-bound ledge safely and with surprising ease. It seemed a dubious and scary route down at first, but Ayleah at least was buoyed by her previous experiences. The woods around the ledge were dark and deep, but it was not the type of trees that was making her uncomfortable. It was a strange impending feeling, like they were descending into a pit of darkness with no clear way out. They could not turn back, the only way led onward to the river, but she could not shake the feeling of dull warning. At first she thought it was simply the change in energy from mountain to valley, and that she was unused to its nature. It had taken a couple of days to get used to the difference in air and general ambiance when she had first ascended the mountains: living on different land meant being supported by different energy. There had been a dramatic shift in that ambient energy between the top and the bottom of the “Bannister” ledge, but when she did not seem to be acclimating fast enough afterwards, Ayleah knew something was off. The almost painful and uncertain darkness lay ahead, not as an aspect of the land, but as something that had settled in the valley, lying in wait for them. She had felt, and even befriended, dark energies in the mountain groves. They were soft and loving presences though, full of understanding, while this one blocked and threatened.

Thinking of their situationally-innocent traveling companions, she brought up the matter to Telon as they rode.

“If I can sense these sorts of energies coming up in my future, better than most I mean, then what should I be doing about them? I mean, should I be doing anything about them? Is it better to try and actively shape the story, or should I just be as aware as possible and try to react to things as they come?”

Telon gave it a small-moment, then responded thoughtfully. “And should you write the story ahead of time, what will you do to affect those energies of the future? Can any of us really do more than react?-and thus learn to react in the best way and and the best time possible? As you learn to separate your past, present, and future, you gain the space necessary to accept what you are given, and react in a proper fashion.”

They stopped the van at a small hamlet perched at an overlook to the north. Through a window of interestingly-yellowed-green they could see across a deep fertile vale with glimpses of the river far below. Fairly nearby across the way another mountainside rose its wooded slopes with pale leaves, but in the narrow gap between there was a flat land that girdled the river with open fields and lush with growth of its own. To look at the scene, there was no hint of danger. Ayleah sat and meditated on the feeling she had had. It was still there, looming from the valley below. Outwardly, all seemed quiet. Only the occasional twitter of a bird or far-off wood chop broke the peaceful air, but to her there was another sound. A sort of thrumming, and clash of shouts came up to her awareness, and she had to ask if any of the others had heard. They hadn't, but Telon looked understanding and grave.

The two of them shared their trepidation with the rest of the group, and further their suspicion that some unknown trouble lay in wait for them at the base of the mountain. Telon reminded them that he was not the warrior-type that might be able to protect them in a fight, but reassured them nonetheless: “There are ways we have of not being easily seen, and of moving swiftly on foot if necessary. Between Ayleah and myself we will do our very best to ensure your safe passage to the other side of the valley.”

To Ayleah specifically he said: “Be on your guard and stay in open awareness. The shaping of our story here and now is to avoid conflict as much as possible in the coming days.”

As they started the van and got moving again, Telon had one more thing to say, this time to himself. Isn't this how it always seems to work, he thought. Pressing matters end up being the only true way, forcing us to test and learn our lessons. I hope my trust in my understanding is allowing me to make the right moves here. With any luck I'll get through this with flying colors.

At the Clearing

 

He would hang around by the rock today, despite what his mother had said. It wasn't like it was a rough or dangerous spot: anywhere in front of the rock was visible to the whole marketplace and well-trafficked by good people. The shady places were behind the rock, and the kid knew not to go back there alone. That's where the scary men were who always wanted to sell him something from their tents. He never knew what they were offering, but felt he didn't want to find out. For the most part the market clearing was a friendly spot, with an always interesting mix of people from all sorts of places and professions. Local merchants conducted a lively trade with those who came through from all four directions. Many left for the summit camps, returning the next day or not at all. He knew they did not all stay up at the top of the mountain; a road kept going south from there. His mother worked at a place on the north road, but he knew that the north and south roads were really one Long Road that connected all the mountain peaks together. The east and west roads went down into the valleys, and had names connected to old cities where they began. The Clearing felt like the center of the world sometimes; a high place where the directions met and mingled.

A heavy-duty hauler was parked by the entrance to the north road. They would probably be Long Road Trippers, bound for the far northern country. The kid always found those folks interesting. Sometimes they were from distant lands, come to experience the wonders of these rural mountains. They would have different sorts of dress, modified of course for back-country travel. They would bring strange and exciting things to trade in the markets sometimes too, purchasing their essentials with wondrous and valuable coinage. It wasn't only for people-watching that he spent his days about the square though. He would moon about the center of town, exploring and drawing in his sketchbook. Occasionally a vendor or traveler would give him a treat like a piece of candy or sweetbread. Sometimes they would give him a trinket from their journeys, which was usually better because he could sell it, buy a treat, and still have some money left over. Watching the crew at their hauler, he wondered what kinds of things they were carrying.

His mom would be gone at work most of the day, as she was most days. He didn't mind her schedule: they had a warm and close relationship as it was just the two of them at home, and a lack of supervision gave him a freedom about town when he wasn't forced to stay inside and study. They lived just beyond the edge of the Clearing, near the west road. It was a large township, with many visitors, and there was always something to entertain a young curious boy. At the same time though it was small enough that he could explore almost all of it with ease and safety. Unbeknownst to him as he went about his days, the townsfolk kept a communal protective eye on the local kid.

He was feeling lazy today. The morning home-work had been a slog, trying to read and remember facts and formulas he didn't care about learning. It felt much better to just sit out here in the sun by the warmth of the marketplace rock, watching the world. The usual vendors had set up in rows close to the base of the boulder, leaving a dusty gathering space in the center. From his vantage point he looked down at the northern row; stalls flanking a wide path to the plaza where the hauler van was parked. It was a calm morning, with only a few people moving about the square. Looking at the various sellers, something caught his eye. He noticed that the owner of one stall was having difficulty in setting up for the day. They were evidently late to get to the square, and something had gone wrong as well with their tent supports. The vendor was alone, and the kid realized he recognized them from previous visits to the market. They were usually here with another person, but today seemed to be setting up all by themselves. It was not going well at all for them, and they seemed to be actually on the point of breaking when a young woman walking by stopped to help. She held the opposite end of the tent-stall, allowing the vendor to secure the damaged support. She even seemed to help make an extra strong brace so the tent would be stable. The vendor looked immensely touched by the help, and sank down on a chair saying something the kid could not hear.

Despite not being able to hear what they spoke of, the kid could tell the effect of the conversation that followed. There was something about the presence of the young woman. Something about her facial countenance or the way she held the energy of the space seemed to make the vendor open up to her. She had stepped in to help without a second thought, and had lent her expertise in a way that did not force itself upon the other. She listened to the troubles of this stranger, whatever they might be, and left them with what looked to the kid like a feeling of hope. There was a power to this young woman he realized, one which did not often come through the Clearing. It was the power of a leader, not one who seeks ruling office, but one who quietly does the work of helping the world to right itself. She held a command of her energy that allowed her to be wholly of service to another without losing or breaking herself to the process.

As the kid watched her return to her party (coincidentally the group at the hauler), he thought there should be more people like her in the world. He saw her interact with the others, and saw her power reflected in their own. They each had their own kind of energy he realized, harmonizing together. By being together they could better grow, inflecting in more and more complex patterns. The kid blinked and shook his head a bit. The thoughts that had arisen from watching the young woman were confusing. Maybe, he thought, if he could one day become like her, then maybe he would understand them.