Welcome, Heln of the Plains

         Wonderful and unique, that feeling of mud squelching between ones toes. In his youth he and some others had found a patch off in the corner of a field where fresh water-course lost its banks. The thick grass was stained with shallow pools, and the kids delighted in splashing around until it was all a brown mess. There would be places in the muck where a plate of earth held together and could be rocked back and forth with comical sounds adding to the playground effect. The smell of cool splashed mud and trampled grass under a clear sun were among his favorite memories of childhood.

Though the weather and place could hardly be more similar, he found it difficult to compare the joys of then and now. The mud made the same sound, as they dredged it up from the hole, but the smell was different. Coming from so deep, and forced from its bed in the marsh, it had an overpowering richness that stank of decay. It was good earth, as much as the clay-plain could offer, but it resisted its transition to the open light of day and the process gave none of that childhood sense of ease. The sun burnt down, more noticeable now in his older age. Every now and then he would feel the coolness of the water, dirty yet soothing all the same.

In crews of four they worked, spaced along the muddy shoreline, in part creating it as they progressed. Reeds towered up on either side, sheltering the open expanse of their work-pit. Between the shore and the shallows of the marsh stood an open expanse of muddied water, dug out steadily by their efforts. As they brought the rich clay up from the depths, other crews came to take it away for use in various places. The mine served a dual purpose of providing earthen material and solidifying a long-overgrown shoreline of the swampy lake. Where the crew had already been, the shoreline was clear and solid; a rough open lawn with a view to the cattail forest.

Tough work, and he would be covered with mud by the time his shift was done, but Heln Borringar enjoyed his assignment. His interest lay in the historical studies, specifically those relating to the Natural Cults. Residence at the Sanctuary's academy was an obvious choice, and he had since spent much of his time working hands-on with the local cultural artifacts. There were many aspects to the maintenance of a natural temple, especially one as large as the labyrinth here at the Sanctuary. Much as when he was a child, he delighted in working with the land and building something meaningful in union with that land. That it had a spiritual and cultural connection to a storied past (and future?) of mystery cults only deepened his commitment. He relished his studies in the library nearly as much as his work out in the muddy fields.

The digger plunged back into the water, gliding as smooth as the machinery could manage, and scraped for another load of clay. Uncountable insects called from the forest of cattails and marsh grass, and the distant shadows of birds flitted across the golden sun. the scoop came up only partially full this time, and that was an indication that they would be moving position soon. The open pool would be left to regrow vegetation, and the new shoreline monitored for stability. The digger, anchored out in the marsh, slowly moved toward its next spot, and soon the work had begun again. At the end of his shift, Heln climbed the grassy bank and stood looking west across the roadway. An irregular line of rocks, thirty feet tall or so, stood beyond: the outermost ring of the labyrinth. Most of the rocks were overgrown with grass between them and along their sides, so only the jagged peaks showed through. Here and there though places had been cleared, and he knew that a lot more work had been done in the inner rings. Eventually the whole labyrinth would be cleared, cleaned, and fortified so that maintenance might be easier in the future. A well-maintained labyrinth could bring pilgrims here for both worship and study – all to the continued health of this sanctuary community. As the sun gleamed golden in the western sky, Heln felt grateful to be a part of this work, and for the place he had found in the world.

Green Sea

Students filed out of classroom buildings arranged under the tall sweetwood tree. Little dark ants down on the green lawn. Some hung around, gathering in small groups or heading off to read in a nearby grove. Others boarded hoverbikes and shuttles bound into the city or off to an afternoon class in some other part of the Sanctuary.

This place has such a different feel to its school atmosphere, Ayleah thought as she sat watching the scene. With her morning off, she was relaxing at her favorite spot on the sunset deck. The sun didn't reach this side of the city until after lunch, so it stayed pleasantly cool later into the day. From here there was an excellent view of the entire lower boulevard, the long-distance landing pad, and the outdoor classroom pod with its pretty groves. In the distance, out to the west, vast green fields stretched as far as she could see, rising to a higher horizon capped with forest. The tall grasses of the field waved hypnotically against the wind, and bushes bloomed like mysterious islands on the valley floor. The Sanctuary sat in a great shallow bowl of land, its sweeping fields dotted with small groves of verdancy and crossed by lanes cut into the grass. It was so different from where she had come on the shores of the lake, and it took some getting used to not having so many trees nearby. Ayleah's favorite places were on the decks that extended out from the city. Here she could feel like she was on the edge of a cliff, with something solid behind and above her. The city walls were not at all like a tree or a rock, but there was a comfort to their presence nevertheless. From the inspiring vantage points on the decks, she enjoyed watching the people of the Sanctuary going about their business. All around the city the workmen, scholars, monks, and other interesting folk went about their days in a communal coexistence. It was a wonderful place, full of life and honest promise.

At Telon's request, Ayleah had now spent a couple of weeks getting to know the land of the Sanctuary, and trying to understand its energy. She had hardly seen him since though, and it was frustrating not having someone with whom to discuss her insights. The land here was so different from what she had known her whole life, and was consequently giving her difficulty. For one thing there were no rocks here. What few she had seen had all come from somewhere else, trucked in from glens in the mountains. Instead the land of this place was a foundation of deep, fine-grained clay. It clumped, and stuck when unearthed. It was like always being on a very firm wet sponge that slowly sucked everything under- the energy below was hard to sense. Water, wind, and sun were plentiful everywhere one went in the Sanctuary though, and even the non-scholarly folk of the city seemed to enjoy their life in this place.

For Ayleah, it was still difficult to get used to the openness as well. She had lived her whole life up to this point under the shelter of trees, only knowing the open sky on those occasions she had been on boats off the shore. Here the trees rarely grew close enough together to create any sort of canopy. They were few, and placed far apart, each on its own. Many of the groves had gathering spots, or buildings clustered near their trunks, and it was clear that even people out here preferred to be under the trees. Perhaps, she thought, it was also due to their landmark status. Out beyond the city lawn the fields are an impenetrable jungle, with grass growing over two hundred feet high, and so thick that it becomes an impossible tangle to walk through. The calm grassy roads that snake out into the Sanctuary provide access in an otherwise bewildering landscape. High above it all rises the city, a prominent bubble of a structure dominating the surrounding fields, the trees and groves nestling it in the picturesque valley.

Within the city it was a closed-in bustle that Ayleah visited only out of necessity. She much preferred being outside in the open air, even if the expanse of blue was a little unnerving. When she did look up at the sky, she would marvel at the sight of huge, fluffy clouds; their billowing flanks uninterrupted by branches and leaves.

Lesson I

 

“Well yes, in a sense that's right, but let's expand on that. The magician invokes the three colors because of their relation to light, but why is that relation significant?

The professor, himself dressed in a light robe of mottled green and brown designs, continued: “Light is half of the essence of all things. It is the creative side; the side of manifestation into what we usually call 'the world' or 'reality'. Again, none of this is in the strict meta- physical sense, but rather in the perhaps more real sense of our lived relationship with reality.

“When the natural light we perceive is broken down into its most basic spectrum, we meet with the qualities of red, blue, and green, or some variation of the same from which all other coloration stems. Coloration of the world, combined with how we have learned to interpret those designs, leads us to the understanding of consensual reality that we have.

“The three elemental qualities are relevant beyond the simple optical associations because of the basic importance of light to our wider reality and its effects on our own beings. The most common understanding of this is in the psychologies that deal with color associations. Most of us know that certain colors, when encountered as qualities of a part of our reality, can affect emotional or other mental states. Could it be though that these effects are not just a superficial conditioned response to stimuli; that the influence of a color is actually invoking a deeper aspect of our lived experience, and that any change to our conscious state is nothing more than a symptom of the underlying encounter?”

The teacher paused to allow his students to catch up, and pressed a button on his remote. The lighting in the classroom changed.

“Red usually invokes a primal, animal feeling. We think of blood, and earth, and the rawness of mortal things. It is deeply connected to our life-force; the fire within us that makes us continue to be. It can be the electrical sparks that propel your body and thoughts forward. It can at the same time be the internal sun some of you may call a soul, that produces no heat, yet constantly seeks purpose. It is our metabolism and the warmth of our veins. It is a never-ceasing element of our existence that presents itself concisely here, in this quality.”

The lighting in the room changed again. “What about blue? What does blue invoke for us magicians?”

A hand raised in the dim light. “It feels relaxing, and yet scary. Like when you can't see the bottom of an otherwise very pleasant lake.”

The teacher gave a slight nod. “While there are no right or wrong answers here, I daresay that is a very good one. You have identified the underlying duality that exists in perhaps all qualities, and it is in this manner that we should be generally thinking in our work.

“To the point though, blue is the color of seeing beyond. The unknown is potential knowledge, and that is frightening. We never quite know how what we may soon learn will affect our reality. Nevertheless, knowledge can be a relief when it reassures us or allows us to plan for what is to come. Furthermore, by referencing the future, this blue is giving us reason to hope, which allows us to plan a reality we want to come into being. While red brings us into this reality, blue shows us that it is infinite.”

“Based on what we have now said about the first two qualities, what might we be able to say about green?”

When a student finally responded there was hesitation in his voice. “Logically...it should be some form of control. I mean, we don't just all go expanding into infinity.”

The teacher gave the thought a nudge: “Right, so what's the underlying principle behind our organization?”

“Looking around at much of the world there doesn't seem to be one. Everyone organizes things differently based on their codes, whether they're moral, scientific, or philosophical. Shouldn't a unifying element have some harmony to it?”

“Well there you've hit it right on the head!” the teacher grinned. “Green represents the harmony of this reality as inhabited by all these forces engaging in the activities of living and learning. Now you notice where it often fails, and we find conflict, disruption and consequently, suffering. Where the quality of harmony succeeds though, in those places we have a vision of what an ideal reality may be.

“You must not however, mistake this green element for a placidity. The turbulence of the world, insofar as it does not bring harm to the inhabitants of reality (which are not separate from it anyway), is a necessary component of proper harmony. It is the double-sided coin again; each quality in the world carries its extreme state and the opposite. It is in the balancing and the middle path that our lives should take their course. It is in understanding the shifting of that balance that we succeed.

“When all three of the elemental aspects are engaged in a positive way, the manifestation of reality will be only in a positive light. It is part of our job as practitioners of this way of seeing to engage with our life force, seek clear knowledge, and establish harmony as much as we can in the world. It is humble task, because in taking on these pursuits, we realize that we are not taking any special perspective on the world. These three elements of life are so basic that they are taken for granted in the complications of peoples' consciousness. We are seeking a path towards paradise by re-focusing on what is really real, and building the world from that point.”

Out of the Woods

            The next day, Telon asked his new pupil for her thoughts on the bay. It was a pleasant morning, and the calm waters twinkled here and there through the trees as they walked the shoreline road. Ayleah was ready with her response.

“The Lake is ancient, and very deep. When I look out over it I can feel its pull, like the majesty of an old building or historic monument. Its grandeur definitely calls back to when it was a larger sea... it still wants to be thought of that way. The land seems a little perilous, especially on the rocks. Almost like we should be grateful that the lake allows us to stand above it as we do.

I've often wondered what it would be like to look out from one of the palisade cliffs on the western shore. To be so high up, on the strong foundation of the mountain over there, the water must not look so intimidating. Here the rocks seem to struggle to rise as high as they do, and they keep crumbling back into the water again. Is that a lesson? That nature recycles itself? Things are always falling apart by the erosion of the waves, but (at least I've heard it said) in other places islands burst forth from the ocean and water recedes from marshy shore-lines.”

Telon nodded gently. “Yes, that is a lesson, and a good one to know. But let us return to the nature of the lake. You spoke for a moment as if it has sentience.”

Ayleah thought for a moment. “Well, we tend to think of a lot of things that way, don't we? We talk about the qualities of things, and just sort of automatically, what's the word... anthropomorphize them in our heads. There's something more to how the lake feels though... like I'm actually communicating with it.” she said the last part a little softer, as if unsure.

“We anthropomorphize things in order to better relate to them.” Telon responded. “We can do this with anything though, so why is it so easy to do with the lake? Perhaps for you it is because it has always been present in the lives of the people here, almost as a relative. You know more of its twists and turns, and thus more easily think of it as an actual acquaintance.”

“Is it also easier to do because it's so big?” Ayleah asked.

“Yes, and no” said Telon, “the greater energy we receive from something, the more likely we are to perceive it with awe. It is important to note however, that this says nothing about the object in question's physical size. A very small thing may nevertheless inspire a great deal of awe. When considering the lake, we are speaking of something far greater than ourselves in both energy and physical size, so you are right to feel intimidated. What then can we do about that feeling?”

A farm wagon carrying produce passed slowly, merging a little ways in front of them from a side path. Ayleah spoke: “We have to think of our relationship to the lake; all the communities that rely on it, or live alongside it. There's a message I thought of while looking out at the water last night. The lake seemed to say that it had amazing energy to give, and if we only took care of it, we would be taken care of in return. It's kind of a typical environmental statement, but it felt so...energetically real last night. That body of water out there is a body of life and recorded feeling and us little humans have a relationship with that.”

Telon smiled reassuringly. “This is where we begin, with the knowledge that we have a deep relationship with the lake into which all water in this land flows. The relationship is a positive energetic flow between us and all our water. We are responsible for what we put into the lake, and what we take from it. What you have said is true, but remember the lake is not sentient. It is only a basin filled with water and numerous life forms which have their own energy. What you feel as the energy of 'the Lake' is merely an energetic whole of all those parts presenting an aspect based on your perspective.

The back and forth of our relationship with the lake is largely without awareness of the significance of each act. The intricate interactions between energies of our communities and the lake are far too complex and subtle for the average observer. Therefore you can see why it is important to put as much awareness as we can into the important acts of our lives. We must do our best to work and prosper alongside such ancient and deep forces.”

Ayleah spent some time in thought then. She could tell his words were speaking to more than just the peoples' environmental responsibility toward the lake. They walked most of the morning along the pleasant shore road, under a dappled canopy of slender younger trees. Eventually the road split, and the farm cart in front of them continued straight toward a large market clearing. Telon and Ayleah took the left-hand road, following the view of the water. Before long they arrived at a second clearing, this one dominated by a well-kept logging camp. Here and there cut sections of trees stood tall over the grassy plaza. Each was the size of a small apartment building, and numerous ones sported balconies or market stalls at their base. A boy's scouting club banner flew from one of these round wooden towers.

Ayleah and Telon headed for the far side of the square, where large haulers were being laden with wood chips and lumber. “We should be able to hitch a ride on one of these haulers.” Telon said. “I know it's not very glamorous travel, but it'll do until we're out of the forest.” he lowered his voice, “No need to worry yourself, but I've been trying to keep my hood up lately, if you know what I mean.”

“Do you mean to say that my new master, the acclaimed scholar, is a fugitive?” Ayleah looked partly shocked and amused.

Telon mirrored the look. “Well, only in Queen City, though you must believe me when I say I have no idea what I did wrong. In fact, that's what led me to the college in your town; I was looking for answers.” Telon trailed off, lost in a sudden thought. “But like I said, no need to worry. The countryside is a very big place, and we are going far from anywhere those metropolis people might think to search.”

This was actually less reassuring than exciting to Ayleah. She watched one of the haulers lift and glide off down the bay-side road, realizing just how good of a decision she had made in taking this apprenticeship.

--

To say that the ride out of the forest was uneventful is to say that one has had the good fortune to travel often. The hauler had three times the number of repulsors as Tormund's, but grumbled along at a steady rate, heavy with its load of lumber. Ayleah watched cottages go by; small hamlet squares under the shelter of the tanglewood. Once out of the main pine grove, the trees had grown smaller and denser. Tanglewoods were the name given to areas like this, where the trees grew so close together that their branches crossed and grew between one another. No grass or undergrowth could grow in this kind of woods, so travel was often easy, but it was unsettling to have the canopy of wood so close above one's head. This was a small section of tanglewood though, and soon the road opened into a narrow meadow.

Ayleah had only vague memories of meadows, from a trip she had taken with her parents as a child. They were strange places, where trees didn't grow, or if they did, only in very small patches of 'forest'. Instead, there was grass, often growing a hundred feet tall (or so she had read in some geography books- the grass here and in her memory was much shorter). Meadows it seemed, were often wet and swampy, though she wondered if that was always the case. The repulsors reacted sluggishly to the road surface, it being soggy and not entirely stable. What few houses had settled under the bushes on either side were either abandoned and rotting or bolstered and raised above the mucky grass with stilts. Above a slit of sky gave more light than usual to the scene, and Ayleah thought it seemed like a place that, if left alone to stabilize and prosper, could easily be a version of paradise.

The road conditions improved as they passed through a couple clusters of dense narrow trees and into a much wider meadow. Here the trees were only large shapes forming the edge of a great bowl. The hauler rumbled on towards the other side. Telon turned in the direction of the deeper woods from which they had come, touched his hands together, and said a word under his breath before releasing the touch. To Ayleah he said:

“Thanking the forest for letting us through safely. It's an old tradition I picked up from a friend of mine.” he noticed Ayleah looking ahead, over the pile of logs and the cab, at the open land in front of them. “This is the largest meadow you've ever been in isn't it? That unsettling feeling, of being out under the open sky, it comes and goes with time.”

“I'm not worried about being out in the open,” Ayleah replied, “it's just like being out on a boat. But it feels strange to think that there's land beneath us when there are so few rocks, and the nearest trees are so far away. Does anyone actually live in meadows or fields? How do they find shelter?” The College at Silver Shores, though well-versed in broad regional geography and the ways of the metropoli, had had little to say in its books about the styles of rural culture away from the wooded shores of the lake.

Telon responded. “Not many do live out in the middle of the grass, that I know of. Most settle by small clusters of trees, and the edges of forests. But there are ways of finding shelter in the open grasslands. You'll see plenty of that where we're going.”

“And where is that, exactly?” Ayleah said teasingly, “you keep changing the subject every time I ask.”

Telon gave a mock look of shock. “You don't know? Didn't we both have the same dream?” His face relaxed and he chuckled. “Oh I don't expect you to recognize where we were then. Presently we're headed to the open grasslands, just a little ways in from the lake. In one of the valleys around here is the Sanctuary of Mu'ryama, where my older brother took up residence some time ago. We, uh, haven't spoken in a while, and it seems he would like to catch up.”

“Fortunate of him to know you were traveling in this area already, and also that you might need help.” Ayleah pointed out.

Telon looked off across the meadow. “He's always known things like that. Just always had the right timing.” He looked back at Ayleah. “That's what most of magic is, you know. Just good timing.”

--

That night, Ayleah sat looking up at the stars from a sandy beach beneath towering willows at the end of the bay. She had decided to start keeping a journal- there was so much she had seen in just a couple days of traveling. It all seemed familiar, from similarities to home and her knowledge of the world, and yet all was mysterious and new.

Magic, she thought, was in that feeling of wonder that comes with experiencing that the world is more than it had seemed to be. Magic is in the feeling that one can reach out and be with that which you know exists but you have never known. Magic is in the drive of all of life to expand and be.

Mia

 

Her awareness had not always been, but she could not remember how it had begun. It flitted around, taking the perspectives of many different things. Some things felt more like home than others, and her personality developed along with her preference for the different feelings. She was, in a sense, a colored spark; a pinpoint of consciousness, alive without a body in which to rest.

She inhabited stones for a while, moving on when the shape became too boring. The rocks were easy, but once she caught on to the dance of being a plant she was instantly hooked. It took a certain understanding of natural flow, but the rivers taught that easily enough, and she had loved being river stones the best. Small plants were her favorite now, bending gracefully in gentle breezes, sheltering under others when the storms came, and clinging tightly together under the earth to join in the consciousness of all. When they drew energy from the earth and air, they would put forth beautiful offerings in white and purple and red and sometimes numerous other colors. She loved the bright petals, and always wore them with gladness when they came.

She wanted to catch a chipmunk, or a bird of some kind, but they were too fast for her. Besides, she did not know how her awareness would fit against theirs'. Even in the plants she could feel a slight resistance. The plant's natural life force recognized the intruder and she had to be careful to match the dance in just the right way. Though the flowering ones always welcomed her awareness, she never stayed in a host for long. There was so much of the world to explore. With a thought she was on distant hilltops under cloud-studded skies, reeling from the sudden jump in place. Other times she burrowed down into small worlds near the ground that held just as much varied wonder as the sweeping open vistas.

One day she was a columbine; a red delicate dancer at the edge of a cliff. Other more common ephemerals danced around her on a narrow mossy ledge in the woods. Some distance below, the forest gave way abruptly to open rock and water, which stretched far out towards a shore also hilly and wooded. It had been a pleasant sunny morning, but as a breeze rose and ruffled the water below her ledge, she felt the urge to move along. She let the dance of the breeze pull her spark out of the bell of the columbine. The wind caught at it slightly, and it drifted right down to the edge of the water. She had been rivers before, dancing young streams and mature well-laden courses. She had felt the nature of their waters, but had never been something deeper. She wanted to be a lake. She wanted to know that stillness and depth. There was such a place nearby, one with a great deal of magnetic power.

In an instant she was in dark cold waters. Her awareness stretched out and she felt the vessel of the great lake; a long deep rift in the land. Its shoreline snaked around countless rocky curves and into rich muddy bays. Grand rivers fed its waters, flowing through metropolis and farm land, the whole mass moving steadily northward to, somewhere, the sea. Things lived and moved within her, and she held them in protective care, easing their way to gather nutrients from her bountiful waters. She was ancient and wise, an invisible natural goddess in plain sight.

When the sun began to rise, it varnished the surface of her lake with gold. The sheen shifted and glinted as gulls cried and heralded the busy shoreline cities to wake. If she had a face, she would smile, for this was a good feeling. It could not stay for very long, because her consciousness was not used to being stretched this far apart, but a little while longer would be fine. As she felt the filling being of the lake, she reflected. For a while now (she could not remember how long ago any of her memories were) she had wanted a name. A tone had come to her, a sort of mantra-chant, spoken in a dream state. The world, it seemed, was Gia, or something of that sort. She was an individual, perhaps the only true individual (she had no knowledge of any other spark like her). Therefore, her name would be Mia; the personal spark, the locus of awareness. She began to gather herself to slip into one of the smaller bays and felt secure in her decision. Mia was here and her and there was a whole world to explore. As she consolidated, she found a piece of solid matter that had not released from her being. It was a columbine petal, red and cup-shaped. In her transformation to the great lake she had not noticed pulling it with her, but now it floated on the water, dancing as her spark moved into the shallows of the bay.

Camping

Ayleah and Telon had left the village and hitched a ride to the south side of town. Leaving Pebble Cove behind, they continued on foot up a narrower, steep, and rocky track that led them along the mossy hillside above the water and around a head of land. Some grand old houses clung to the rocks here and there under the cool shade of the forest, but most had begun to retreat from the eroding shoreline. Massive moss-covered boulders formed the entire landscape here, under the trees, and the steep slope down to the water had few spots that looked entirely stable. Ayleah pointed to a sign next to the roadway that warned of potential relocation in the next few years. The waters of the bay were steadily eating away at the rock underneath the road and surrounding houses, and at some point it would become too dangerous even for through-travel.

“Even if Tormund is successful tomorrow, I don't know what they're going to do about the old college buildings. A lot of our most historic places have this problem. There's only so much that the metal supports can do.”

Telon heard the concern in Ayleah's voice. “It's true, erosion is always a danger for these lakeside communities. But in my experience these places, especially the venerable ones like Silver Shores, have good contingency plans in place. They'll be moving all the most historic buildings to new locations uphill, and the whole village will shift slightly. It's hard to say goodbye to somewhere that you know will be gone soon. The whole time it remains, unused as its former self, its ghost seems harmful to you. You don't want to be near it anymore because the desire for its old self would be too great. The shoreline of the lake is a good example of the impermanence of the world. Everything is geared towards decay, and we must find a way to exist and thrive in spite of that. It will be a very long time until no-one can live in heavenly groves beside the lake, but they may not be the same groves from generation to generation. Such is the cycle of life, in which everything must change.”

Ayleah said nothing for a while. Blue-green water lapped a long distance below the cliff to their left and the path rolled easily along the side of the steep hill. As they rounded a bend and the landscape began to soften she said, “Is all your advice going to be so annoyingly deep?”

Telon laughed. “I am sorry for that. I've been cooped up with books for too long lately. But in a sense yes, because of the nature of what I am to teach you. This looks like a good place.” Telon gestured at a rocky outcropping just off the road to their left. “We'll make camp for the night. It's a pretty short distance to the Paddler's Market from here, and we can get a lift on a lumber hauler in the morning.”

They stepped down a short trail and entered the clearing; a large flattish rock outcropping overlooking a tumbled part of cliff leading down to the water. From here Ayleah could see the broad languid arms of Kings Bay reaching into the land. A city built of rock dominated the central peninsula, and directly across the bay she could make out the rooflines of buildings in the parklands. The water was like the lake on the absolute stillest of days. There were waves, but they did not break the surface of the dark green water. She could tell it was much shallower here than back home, and the effect of the stillness in the bowl of land was entrancing. Ayleah put down her pack on a mossy patch of the rock and turned her attention to what Telon was doing.

The scholar had retrieved a small pouch from his robes and produced a crystal and a palm-sized wooden stick. With these objects in one hand, and a tiny folded cloth in the other, he was walking the perimeter of their clearing. Eight times he stopped, spoke something she could not hear, and crouched to do something on the ground. When he was finished, he stood in the center of the circle he had made, looked upwards for a moment, and then packed away his things in their pouch.

Later a proper camp had been struck and a fire had provided heat for the pair's dinner. As they relaxed after eating Ayleah returned the talk to what she would actually be learning from this certified scholar.

“So which class teaches whatever you did with the crystal and that stick to set up camp?” she asked, the last traces of the day's light glowing in the distance.

Telon explained. “There are many people who think of an apprenticeship with a scholar as kind of frivolous and an avoidance of a real education. Instead of training yourself in a specific skill for trade,with me you'll gain in 'general knowledge' which you can then use to pursue a life to the best of your newfound abilities. If, in the course of life you desire to learn a specific skill, you will have a head start on the mindset beneficial to learning. What detractors of this method fail to realize is the full depth of wisdom and self-assuredness that can come from leading a scholarly life.

What I can teach you is 'general knowledge' yes, but it is no less rigorous or easier to master than a professional skill. It is basic in the same way that maintaining your own life and health is basic, and yet that can be a most difficult and consuming task. It is basic in the same way that our health is a necessity, yet who among us can master the skill of perfect health? In truth, everyone should really be studying what you will, because it is so essential to understanding existence. The most basic knowledge we can gain about the world is often the least corrupted and therefore gives us the truest picture of reality.

I said my area of study was in property management, but a truer title might be landwork. My Council is fairly small, as Lone Rock holds the majority power in the metropolis. However, we are left to have our own existence on the edge of their power-bubble, and I have the distinction of being perhaps the only scholar on the local council who works directly in the field.” Telon couldn't help adding a tinge of pride to his voice.

“You see I study the natural energetic flow of the land. When you go to certain places, can you sense how they feel intangibly different from one another? Maybe because of the plants or rocks there, or the shape of the land, but there's a general feeling you get just by being there?

Ayleah nodded.

Telon continued: “That's a place's energy. It's a quality borne out of the totality of all the aspects of the place in question. Where I understand the natural currents of that quality, the way in which it flows across and through the elements of the ground and air, then I can attempt to manipulate and work with it for mutual benefit. This ties in, not only to our relationship with our environments, but to our inner and interpersonal workings as well.”

Ayleah was rapt with attention. “So, it is a sort of magic. I was right! That crystal you used, and that stick was like your wand! You must have been casting a protection spell on our campsite, that's so cool.”

“Hm, a magic spell. I suppose you could think of it that way,” Telon said. “Though I'm certainly no master of elements or shaper of reality- at least, no more so than the average learned person.”

“Will you teach me about the energy of this place?” Ayleah asked.

Telon smiled. “That's part of why I thought this would be a good spot to stay tonight. I want you to watch the bay and the shoreline for a little while before you go to sleep tonight. Don't stare too long at the water itself, but contemplate the land, and how it holds the water in its cradle. Tomorrow morning I will ask you what you think the energy is like on this peninsula.” Telon began to clean up and prepare their camp for the night. “After all, as someone already sensitive to the world, having lived here all your life you should be an expert on its power.”

Road Trip

Tormund, Ayleah, and Telon headed down the main shore road, through large cedar trees, toward the namesake feature of Silver Cove. The road was gravelly, with larger stones poking through here and there, smoothed by years of traffic. The land to either side rolled peacefully, a carpet of moss and rock outcroppings extending under the protective canopy of the towering trees. Ahead, Ayleah could see the waves of the lake as they danced around the docks and riggings of the town port in the distance. Eventually they were out on the rocks, gently sloping down toward the beach. Ayleah liked it out here, but it was exhilarating. Out beyond the cover of the trees, on bare rock that slanted against the sky and distant horizon. It was like being on a boat near the shore, though not. There was no rocking, but the waves were ever present- a tremendous crash and roar behind the stable ground. Before long though, the rocks sloped upward again in narrow ledges and they turned away from the port road toward the trees again. Up a long flight of stairs cut into the sagging bank, and Tormund led the other two to a parking area in one of the groves along a forest street.

“I'll be taking a route straight across the point to Pebble Cove, if the two of you want to catch a ride” he said, unlocking his personal hauler. “From there at least you'll be a little closer to the mainland, if that's where you're headed.” He paused and looked at Ayleah for a moment, his eyes sincere. Telon responded. “We'd be glad of it, thank you.” He then turned and motioned Ayleah to follow him.

Telon led her a short distance off to where the cedar grove overlooked the rocks and water. He gazed out at the lake for a moment silently before calling her attention. “Should you still desire to come with me, this may be the last time you see these waters for quite a long while. I want you to listen to them, and think on your decision one last time before you commit to leaving this place.”

Ayleah listened to his words, and nodded to show she had heard. She turned to face the lake. Its deep green-blue waters undulated, unceasingly. The waves were without form, disrupted by hidden rocks and other secrets of that surface. The mountains on the other shore spoke to her, saying that they would hold that water and its secrets as they always had until she returned. The shoreline, stretching out in a rough fringe of evergreen against the open blue above and below, held the magic and the safety of home. Ayleah closed her eyes and breathed in the sight of the cedar fringes and the rushing sound of the waves. She held the breath for a moment, and let it out into the fresh lakeside air. Thoughts of all her explorations came to her. All the magic and wonder she had discovered in this little corner of the world was hers to hold and use wherever she might go. Every place would hold a special magic of its own, but hers was unique, because it came from this special place. Turning to her new teacher, she spoke with confidence in her voice. “I'm ready, let's go.”

Back at the hauler, Tormund packed their minimal luggage into a storage compartment in the back of the vehicle, and they drove out of the village of Silver Cove, away from the lake. The inland road took them up out of the village cedar groves and into a broader, more open forest. Clumps of smaller trees made dense patches here and there where larger ones had fallen and left a brief mossy meadow. To their right, a prominent rocky ridge raised its shoulder and shuttled them into a wedge in the land. On its upper slopes, foresters went about their business, navigating the steep side paths for work with lumber or minerals, or patrolling in the wilder areas of woods. Tall thick pines and oaks towered above their course, and large boulders or cairns marked the side of the woodland road.

As the ridge gave way to the flatter uplands of the peninsula, Ayleah lost track of which direction they were going. The road turned this way and that, but there was no shoreline with which to orient oneself. She liked watching the mysterious deep woods go past though. Sometimes they were filled with light, and delicate fluttery things danced above little mossy bedrock ridges in groves of twisted thorny trees. Other times the undergrowth was impenetrable and dark, curving high above their heads to either side. These places felt ominous, though Ayleah reasoned they must be of the same family as the rest of the forest, just a different part. Still, she was glad when they were through the dark tangles and the forest opened up once more. There were more species of tree beside the path than Ayleah was used to seeing back in the village, or even the township. Back in Silver Cove, most trees were of a certain width, and were primarily cedars and hemlocks. The rare occasion would find a birch or special bush on the shore, but the forests of her childhood were a special case. These woods on the road were more like the far back woods behind the town that she had hardly ever visited. Oaks and maples grew here, some reaching gigantic size, out of proportion from the rest of the woods around. These giants attracted settlers, and off the road, side paths led to these hamlet glens. Older evidence was imprinted in the landscape; the giant trees only one sign of previous management of the land by cities. Massive rock walls, now tumbled, and curious flat parts of the forest floor, were also signs that this had not always been the forest it was now.

Ayleah had learned of the land's history in her classes at the college. She had heard of vast open farmlands, and how where she lived was not like much of the world around. She had never been to a city, but had seen pictures of their grand walls. They were like massive boxes that almost touched the sky. Within their sturdy walls and safeguarded doors, an entire large township could thrive. Most cities owned a plot of the land surrounding them, and would sponsor any villages that wanted to settle on that land. By practice though, most people would rather live inside the city than next to it. Ayleah had always wanted to see those strange wastelands, the city fields. It was odd to think that this whole peninsula might have been like that at one point in time.

A particularly large bump in the road, reminded Ayleah that she was in a repulsor-hauler riding through a forest still near her youth, not yet in some far off city. The trees were turning back to evergreen, and the road slanted downwards; she knew they must be nearing the other shore. The peninsula stuck out like a flat thumb into the vastness of the Lake, corralling Kings Bay and the lands managed by their Park authority. Silver Cove was on the outer side of the thumb, a dimple in the lakeside next to the College of the Silver Shore (with its own private port). Tormund had driven them all the way east across the point to Pebble Cove, a small port on the calm waters of Kings Bay. As they entered the township, Ayleah noted the surrounding terrain. Pebble Cove opened from a gentler cleft in the land than her hometown. A wide road led around through the upper forest, descending from the hill to the south and leading out along the shore to the north. Shops and residences lined the main street, and rooflines dotted the forest all the way toward the water. There was a somewhat gloomier air here than at Silver Cove, but there were plenty of signs that this was the happy vacation home of many a local resident. The beach at the port was muddy, and long docks were used to access the boats. Ayleah much preferred the tumbled rocks of Silver Shores, even if they were dangerous sometimes.

Tormund drove up to a parking lot near the edge of the land. He narrowed his eyes slightly as they passed a particularly dingy fishing camp. “I want you taking good care of her Telon,” he said, “there're places out there that make Pebble Cove look quaint and comforting.”

The scholar regarded the muddy roadway, and then the towering pines as they stopped and the engine whined down. “Have no worry, good marshal. Our ways will not take us to those places.” Tormund resigned himself to be satisfied with this statement. The hauler settled onto its platform, and the three of them stepped out onto the pine-needled ground.

Getting her pack out of the storage compartment, Ayleah said eagerly: “I'm not afraid; Telon's going to teach me how to do magic!”

“Oh?” Tormund looked amused.

Telon looked at Ayleah, “Well, I didn't say exactly that. I said the way in which knowledge can transform your life is like magic. Our specialty at Queen City is homestead and property management, though I do know a bit about geologic metallurgy as well.”

“More depth than I've ever bothered to wrap my head around for sure.” Tormund said. “You're going to have a great time Ayleah. Be careful, but make some good stories to tell me when you get back. You'll get your head filled with all sorts of useful things I'm sure.”

Ayleah grinned and hugged him. “Thanks Tormund. I'm sure I will.”

She released him, and the marshal shook Telon's hand. Their eyes met and they wished each other favor on their respective travels. Then Tormund turned and descended the stairs down to the beach, a fine figure heading for the docks with his marshal's badge as a sign of passage. He would hire a ferry to take him across the bay to the parklands. There he would spend the night, and in the morning argue the case for their village.