Sutton

 

Sutton also spent the night in the woods east of the lake, though in more relative comfort than Jaen, being himself constantly prepared for the occasion. In the morning he made his way surreptitiously back into town, hood down this time, and mingled with the villagers. He quickly learned of the election mishap of the previous day, and of the rough expulsion of one Jaen Bartlett from the village. Once he knew that Jaen had escaped the town mostly intact, Sutton returned to the eastern shore to look for signs of his young charge's landing. Sure enough, he found the abandoned rowboat and campfire ring among the reeds, and from there, the trained tracker was easily able to follow Jaen's trail up the slope. When he reached the roadside where Jaen had sat, he examined the marks on the ground and paused, looking east. It could probably be assumed that from here Jaen had found transport back toward home, whether or not that was his destination. Having none himself save his own feet, Sutton knew he would not be able to catch up now. He would make his own way back to the falls, and perhaps would meet with Jaen there. Otherwise, the young Bartlett would have to continue to take care of himself (Leb, he assumed, was well on his own way home now, as he should be), and Sutton truly wished him well on whatever coming-of-age he had in store.

Sutton was of tough stock, born and trained in older, mountainous ways. His lithe form was a mirror to his mind; honed over many years for the skills and purposes that were required. With foundations in a truly wonderful childhood, he had left his home deep in the foothill vales to pursue strength. In his teenage years he joined an academy which was dedicated to the improvement of the self. The curriculum required service to often less-fortunate others in the most extreme mountain lands. For years he toiled and trained, bonding with his team, the mountains, and himself in the process. He learned the skills of survival, hard work, and true compassion, as well as how to defend his life and others' from the dangers of the world. He brought this understanding of life back down from the heights, intending to live a quieter existence now that he was nearing the middle of his life. Nevertheless he still wanted to use his abilities for service, and so he found the community of Bartlett's Falls. It was a stately township, storied and proud. No deep wilderness either; nearby cities and traffic along the river made for a wonderful diversity of bustling people, especially in summer. Sutton knew this was a place where he could have a positive influence on the world. He applied for a position with the town watch, and rose quickly to prominence. Friendships with the Bartletts and other members of the council solidified his place as a fixture of the community. Everybody knew the tall severe man as trustworthy and fair, if sometimes a little coldly so. His relationship to Jaen became that of an informal mentor. Jaen looked up to Sutton, though regularly refused to take his advice in the field. He seemed to view the older man as perhaps a better father figure than the actual father he had, and irrationally resented him a bit for that fact. Sutton, on his part, only wished Jaen would rise to his abilities, as he saw so much potential in the able-bodied lordly youth. Therefore he was always ready to assist Jaen even in his more foolish endeavors, knowing that wisdom can only come through a proliferation of experience.

Well-experienced himself in traveling the countryside, Sutton traveled easily back east. He made his way down a road out of the forest, and emerged in more open land. The hills around Norton Brook are an outlying clump of land, separated from the first range of mountains by sweeping valleys of farm fields and mysterious lowland meadows. Sutton followed a similar track to the others, also making their way back towards the higher hills. The first range of mountains stood as a line unbroken save in one spot. There the land dove down out of sight into the rocky dale of the river, and a terrace in front of the gap held a collection of small cities. Numerous buildings clustered together as a sort of countryside metropolis with multiple large market centers and a thriving cultural community all its own. The falls township lay beyond, a little ways back into the mountain rift, and has always had a good and close relationship with the metropolis. Sutton always enjoyed the view from these western fields east towards the mountain gap. He chose a spot for the night by a tree on an otherwise open hilltop. As the sun set he was comforted by the soft glow of the lights from the metropolis.

In the morning Sutton awoke to the sounds of birds calling and chirping, as well as a rustling sound that didn't seem to belong. Upright in an instant, he caught two ill-looking strangers rifling through his belongings. Judging quickly from their clothing and manner, he guessed that they were city folk from somewhere nearby. Clearly not upstanding citizens in their own home, one of the dirty ruffians saw he was awake and reached for a gun barely concealed in his waistband. However the short sword barely had time to flash in the morning sunlight before both thieves fell to the ground. Two quick strokes from where it had lain at his side, and it was done. A lithe crouch and a quick step was all it had taken. The bird sang its song again, trilling contentedly. Sutton sighed resignedly: breakfast would have to be on the road today. He packed up his bag and left the camp site as it was. Anyone coming across it would only find evidence of two people ever there.

On the Road Again

 

In the morning a newly-purchased transport left the town in a pleasant mood. It was an old local taxi, but the repulsars were in good condition and it trundled easily through the woodland with its few passengers. Leb sat in the driving seat, and in the back rode Ayleah, Niisi, and a pair of villagers who hadn't realized the cab was out of service. Leb had been very gracious with them and offered to take them around the lake, as their stop was on his way as well.

As the small company traversed above the northern shoreline of Norton Pond, they followed a road that slabbed slowly upward along the hillside. To the left rose an open forest of gentle hardwoods climbing beyond view. To the right however, the slope funneled down into a dark thicketed vale overtowered by tall pines. To Ayleah the sense of the place seemed more than visual. There was a pull to the obscured shoreline, quite a ways off through the dark trees. Though the cart moved along well enough and the pitch was not steep, the travel felt slightly difficult, like a drag of friction from their right. The pine needles covered more of the sun over there, but there was also a darkness about the place only detected by some sixth sense. Her training with Telon had sharpened this mysterious sense only a little, but the energy here felt so large and powerful that it was distracting even her.

Just as a small bit of fear crept in for that dark spring glen and the call it had, Ayleah remembered one of her lessons that previous year at the Sanctuary. It had been early on in the curriculum; a discussion about the duality of the world. The teacher had said we should not be afraid of the “darkness” because it is just as beautiful, and often more innocent than the “light”. The terms themselves were a polar construction imposed by reason onto what in reality was a beautiful swirling spectrum. Some places are very light, and others are very dark, but they meet in utter harmony and play with each other.

For it is certain that darkness is beautiful because it contains the most precious lights, and cradles them in velvety wonder. The darkness, when lit properly, has such incredible glamour, yet is often maligned and thus given to dis-appreciation and un-qualification. The light is equally beautiful, but it hides a secret for those who do not embrace both sides. It has always been the case that one cannot exist without the other- we only know light and dark because of their contrast and tension. Therefore if darkness is most beautiful due to the light it holds, then the inverse must also be true. The brightest light holds the most special darkness of all, and it too is plagued by the misfortunes that befall all darkness in a world biased towards the light.

We are not to blame, at least not in the direct way in which we blame. Life needs light, as a fact it looks to survival before perception. One can be blind to much of the world if overly-confident in sight. Life without care does not care for balance. It is up to us to move forward, and use perception to rediscover our care.

So Ayleah saw the darkness, and was afraid, but she acknowledged her feelings, and saw the darkness on its own terms. Then she felt secure, even held by its presence. She reached out to appreciate that place for the beauty it had, and it released her from its probing prejudice. Aside her in the transport, Niisi caught her eye and smiled.

“I'm glad you decided to come with us Ayleah. When we first met I thought you'd be a great addition to our crew.” From up front Leb gave a short laugh. “What 'crew' Niisi? We're just going back to the falls now. I have plenty of work at home that's been put off for this little excursion.”

“What Leb?” Niisi responded, “You've been the most supportive of this trip all along! I thought you actually wanted a bit more adventure in your life again.”

“Make no mistake, I did this for Jaen.” Leb's face was set, though he did not turn around. “We've always been such good friends, how could I say no? Plus, I figure whatever he and Sutton got up to won't work out for him too well. It'll be a good experience for him. I'm sure we'll all catch up in a few days back at the falls and see what he's learned.”

Niisi turned back to Ayleah. “What about you? Do you think you'll leave as soon as you can for the mountains?”

“I don't know...I'm still only hoping that I'll be able to find out where Telon was going. Once I do know though, I'll need to leave as soon as possible.”

“You really think something bad might have happened to him?” When they had met up again after Jaen and Sutton's departure from the group, Ayleah had divulged the real reason for her trip, and her concerns for the whereabouts of her scholarly mentor.

“There's just no reason the Sanctuary hadn't heard from him. He was supposed to return more than two weeks ago now, and I know that the head sages often receive messages from their mountain counterparts, so word would have been sent if the plans changed. But even though they seem concerned, they refuse to do anything concrete. I have to try and find out what happened myself. They have no excuse to stop me- classes aren't in session, and my mentor is missing. I can take care of myself well enough. Though,” she added, smiling back at Niisi, “I am glad I found some friends for at least a bit of the journey.”

Before long, they reached the top of the rise. The road led through a gentle saddle of land in the ridge that enclosed Norton Brook Reservoir. A smaller road marked by dual rock cairns turned off to the right and led back down toward the eastern shore. On one of the smaller rock piles they saw a familiar-looking figure. Jaen sat by the roadside looking the opposite of the bright sunlight that filtered though to the road junction. The dejection only grew when he saw who sat in the vehicle that drew closer. They stopped beside him as he stood, and he approached the driver's cab, opening his mouth to speak. Leb put up a hand to silence him and said: “In lieu of an apology to me, I suggest you make use of this time contemplating the lesson you may have learned here. Now get in, if you want. I only stopped anyway cause it was where these two were getting off.” he indicated the two villagers who had just unloaded from the old taxi. The two old friends connected, and Jaen climbed in beside Niisi. Leb steered the taxi back on course and they continued on their way under the placid sunlight, somehow glinting orange even through the high green canopy of the woods.

Jaen's Plot

 

A plan was discussed and plotted discreetly over the next two days. The village buzzed with excitement for the coming vote. One of the local (and most wealthy) merchants, a man named Din, was the favorite to win election. Not all cared to share a table with him, but there was general agreement that he had the influence and congeniality needed for the role.

On the dawn the poll was to open, business went as usual in the marketplace. Shop keepers opened their doors for the day, and traders trekked in from the woodlands with their goods. There was a quiet energy to the villagers' demeanors and conversation, and no-one noticed the tall hooded man standing casually to the side of the square.

As the bustle of the morning began to get underway, a messenger hurried directly across the square without stopping, and entered the township office with an envelope. The envelope contained the official ballot form that had been approved by a special electoral committee offsite. The form would be immediately copied and distributed to voters as they came in throughout the afternoon. Being a first for the town, the electoral process involved many local volunteers, and so the receiving clerk at the office did not question the identity of the tall messenger who delivered the form.

Two hours after the polls had opened, the buzz about the marketplace had changed from excitement to confusion, and an hour after that there was a downright uproar. Voters marched on the township office searching for answers, some visibly angry. Word had spread in the village center quickly as more people had cast their vote. Most were simply surprised to not see Din's name on the ballot, and wanted to know if anyone had heard a reason why. Those who had vocally supported Din's candidacy though suspected foul play, and assumed the culprits might be those closest to the electoral materials. The office was surrounded, and though the mob had no real cohesiveness, afternoon came with extreme tension.

It was only upon discovery of the original messenger that the mob gained a purpose. A young volunteer named Clade was found leaning against the hidden backside of a large tree near the edge of the village. He was only a bit dazed, but seemed to have suffered a blow to the head. By his account, he had been on his way to the township office that morning with the secure envelope when a tall cloaked person had wrestled him to this place and knocked him out. He hadn't seen what had happened to the envelope in the struggle, but was reassured when the townsfolk had told him the rest.

Sutton, in the intervening hours, had left the village entirely, and so the identity of the cloaked man remained a mystery. Jaen however, was relaxing under a pine overlooking the lake when they found him. He had been trying to take his mind off the proceedings, and not worry about the outcome of the vote. His and Sutton's plans to alter the ballot copy in his favor might not work to elect him, and that was fine. He would gain notoriety in the town from his name being so visible, and then he would run in the next election once he had spent some time with the people and proven himself here. Either way, the plan would-

-would work maybe, but he didn't get to finish that thought. A loud noise from his right turned his attention, and it became immediately clear he would not be spending any more time in this township.

To the office clerk's credit, she had remembered right away the upstart young gentleman who had come in a few days prior requesting to talk with the village council. She remembered he had left somewhat disgruntled, and had heard the council talking about how it seemed he had wanted them to elect him right then and there. Upon hearing this testimony, the louder members of the mob declared the fraud to in fact be the young stranger's fault. Indeed, there was general agreement among those present that no-one had heard of support for the stranger's name on the ballot. The polls were closed by popular demand, and the only thing left was to find this Jaen Bartlett.

That person in question was extremely lucky only one boat lay tied at the dock to which he led his pursuers. He was also lucky it was late enough in the afternoon that the townsfolk were contented enough with seeing him gone and did not seek to pursue him further. The loss of the stolen boat itself was deemed a reasonable price for ridding themselves of a potential nuisance and the owner was assured of reimbursement in any case. As he crossed the lake in haste, Jaen knew he could never set foot within eyesight of any of them again. He spent that night on the dark reedy shoreline, feeling humiliated for his efforts.

---

Back on the western shore, Ayleah watched the sunset. There was an easy path down from the old woman's house, through grassy tussocks to a rock on the water's edge. The land came more easily to the lake here than in the village center, and a hamlet of sorts clustered around a small grassy cove. The view across the water was broad enough to catch the evening light and, though she was facing east, Ayleah could see the orange and red glinting on subtle wavelets. On the far side, a campfire stirred, and she wondered at the surrounding population and the people living here. It felt good to be back in a rural town, but this place was again different from her home. The township stretched out and up into deep green forests; fertile rocky land that seemed to go on forever in its nooks and folds. In just the two days she had stayed with the old woman, she had learned a surprising amount about the use of local herbs. A different variety of plants grew here in the hills than she had studied before, and they had a variety of culinary and medicinal uses. Gaile was no lore-master, but knew enough about daily uses to be enlightening. She had extended a kind offer to Ayleah when the latter's efforts in the marketplace had been fruitless.

“I don't know that I recognize the name Battell, but it sounds like it's probably a surname, perhaps one from the mountains. What I can offer a poor traveler like yourself is a safe place to stay a few nights if you need, and I also have some pretty good maps of the region, if you'd like to take a look.”

Ayleah had gratefully accepted, and the maps had proven immensely useful. They gave her detail not shown on the limited ones she had from the Sanctuary about the foothill ranges. It seemed she was on a large island of hills a little distance separate from the main ranges. Niisi and Leb had suggested she accompany them to Bartlett Falls. They were sure someone there would be able to point her the right way, and the Falls lay at the absolute foot of the mountains as well.

Out over the placid lake the red escaped to the sky, turned purple, and fled to the west. The water darkened, and the township slept. They would remake the ballot, and vote again tomorrow.

Jaen Bartlett

The plot of Jaen's childhood home now stood in the midst of a recreation area and historic park. The shaded evergreen ledges about the Bartlett Pool stood as impressive as ever, though well-trodden by industry and the curious feet of many years. Much of the old infrastructure was long gone, hinted at by large moss-covered blocks of stone. A small city once stood around the falls, and though the walls were dismantled and removed, the community remained. Thoroughfares into the hills widened, and the now-rural township became busy with visitors on their way through the mountains or just coming to the river for its crisp water and deep pools. Jaen's family, though no longer rulers of the falls, nevertheless maintained a quiet respect in the community equal to their royal prestige of old. Thus it was that he grew up into a naïve sense of entitlement and thought it only natural that he should one day help to shape and guide a community.

Given the rise of the Empire, and the transition to township rule, Jaen found little opportunity at home. Bartlett Falls was constrained by regional regulations due to its notoriety, and though the people in charge were friendly with his own family, they were calmly obstinate when it came to any involvement of his in town affairs. Jaen's role it seemed, was to be a passive friend of the town, and the upkeep of the historic park. He wanted more than that.

One day a man stopped for a rest on his way up the river. Jaen was nearby as he told his story, and overheard the man say he came from a township that was just getting itself set up as such.

“Used to always just be a bunch of farmers,” the man had said, “I think there was a city established there of some sort a very long time ago, but you would hardly know it now. All forest and hillside. Anyway, their getting enough of a population center there that the people're looking to form a more stable governance. How they'll make out I sure don't know. It's why I got out of there- the different factions can't seem to agree on anything, and I figure it was going to get worse before anything got sorted out. I'm looking for a more stable township, one that already knows what it is, if you know what I mean. Maybe I'll go back someday, though it's not like it's my ancestral home or anything...”

Upon talking with the man, Jaen learned that his fledgling township lay out in the Haven valleys. A mass of foothills lay separate from the rest of the mountain folds. Tumbled gentle slopes rose high above a sheltered valley, and a good size dam held back water from a spring in a beautiful round reservoir. This was a lovely pastoral place looking for its way in the world. Jaen saw it as his opportunity. He would go to that place, the newly-created township of Norton Brook, and become the savior who would help shape their society. Not only did he feel an innate sense of destiny, but also a desire to see a new community flourish and not descend into chaos. If they could not agree among themselves, he would lead them for their own sake.

It was with some confusion then that he left the village office at the lakeside after speaking only briefly with members of the town council. He was not dejected altogether by their dismissal of his ideas for the town, but his spirits were dampened somewhat. They had told him he at least had not missed the vote for leadership, but that it would be awfully hard for an outsider to get on the ballot in the next three days. His companions were supportive, but Leb in particular advised returning to Bartlett Falls.

“There is no shame in going back Jaen. You've come as a representative of a notable house and offered your guidance. They have refused, and there is no sense not acknowledging that fact. You can't win an election on short notice as a stranger. For better or ill we must leave them to their own devices.”

Jaen's mood had darkened. He had visited with townsfolk for most of the afternoon and while many were kind to him, none had seemed supportive of his taking a hand in their government. “What, and return to my parents to tell them I came all the way here for folly? I know what the township thinks of me back home. I'm nothing more than a pampered royal; a figurehead to be polished and put back in my museum to greet visitors to the falls. They forget my ranging and hunting. They forget I know those falls and how to govern them better than anyone since my great-grandfather who owned the mills.”

Leb looked at Jaen with compassion, seeing the fire in his friend's eyes. Then shouldered his pack and said: “Jaen Bartlett, I have been your companion and will continue to be your friend, should you find yourself. I wish you the best of luck, but I will not fight this battle with you.” and with that he turned away. Niisi too apologized, but said her path also did not lead where he was taking them and went to follow Leb.

Jaen looked at Sutton, the question unspoken on his face. The tall man gave a smile that may have been more of a grimace, and clapped Jaen on the shoulder. “I will stay by your side young master. Though if we are to proceed we will need caution.”

The New Premir

 At the pond marketplace, Ayleah asked about the word.

The head sages of the Sanctuary seemed more concerned with the information they held and with keeping it from her than with the possibility something had happened on Telon's mission. She could tell though that whatever he had been doing was important and that they were just as worried as herself. In their lush valley they seemed content to wait for news, but Ayleah was from a place where the water beat life awake from the ragged cliffs. Action her birthright, she packed the necessary things and boarded a transport heading roughly east. Knowing little else except possibly a name (was it a person or a place?), she had stepped out from the transport onto a dusty lot flanked by large boulders. A wide gravel road led from the other end of the lot, and travelers of various types streamed to and from the long-distance transports. Merchants traded at stalls of various prestige and repair that lined the first part of the street. Farmers and woodsmen made their way to and from the port, arriving from or departing for some nearby city. A family with a full cart of luggage headed up the road and into the woods. There was an air of seediness that came from those living on the fringe between the wild township and the technology of the cities. It was a transition zone, and Ayleah stood to one side, suddenly unsure. She had some basic navigational tools from the Sanctuary, but direction and the word were not enough to go on. Now that she was out in the greater world she had no idea which path to take.

“Can I help you ma'am, you look as if you might be lost. Where do you seek to be?” The man was young, no more than five years her senior, and walked to her side of the square proudly dressed and with a commanding air.

Before Ayleah could respond, he extended his hand and continued. “I'm sure I can be of service, Miss-”

“-Ayleah” she said, regaining her composure under the assault. “And who might I have the pleasure of meeting? Are you the Gate-Attendant for this township?”

His face showed an inscrutable look and then he responded “I am in fact the new Premir of this township, and I have just arrived to assume office. The name is Jaern Bartlett, of the Falls Lineage, and the pleasure is all mine Ayleah.” he straightened as he said this, then gave a nod of a bow. Ayleah, desperate for some sort of direction anyway, and admittedly a little impressed, followed Jaern back to his companions.

They were all fitted for traveling, with light rugged packs similar to her own, but with signs they carried more than just navigational tools. A larger man with a casual air about him, a tall thinner person who could have been taken as a scholar if his dress was different, and a wiry younger woman with brown skin and eyes that knew more than they told. Jaern picked up his (significantly smaller) pack of belongings and introduced the others. “Ayleah, meet Leb, Sutton, and Niisi.” he said, indicating them in turn, “They have been my good friends for many years, and I am deeply grateful-” his gaze met the tall Sutton's for an instant, “-for their companionship and assistance on this venture.”

“Pleased to meet you all.” Ayleah said, acknowledging the companions. “I'm also on a venture of sorts, and I would be grateful for some companions here. I'm new to these lands and not yet sure where I need to go. If there's a larger market square in this township, I may be able to find answers to some of my questions.”

The group said that was where they were heading anyway, and joined sparse traffic leading away from the long-distance port. Jaern took the front of the group next to Ayleah. “I give you my word to help you in any way I can. Certainly as Premir, I will be able to grant you whatever you need. What is this venture of yours may I ask?”

Ayleah glanced at his bright eyes and eager gait. “Only a fact-finding mission for some scholars. I've been studying at the Meadow Sanctuary and decided to study the upland forests as a final project. I'll be spending a few cycles in the mountains and then I'll go back and do a write-up on the comparative energies. I'm very excited to study up there in the mountains, but my transport dropped me off here, and I don't think this is where I was supposed to go.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Well, I realized on the way here that I had accidentally written the down wrong transport date. I was supposed to leave yesterday! I know this transport brought me east, but not all the way to the mountains it seems. What township is this anyway?”

“Norton Brook, though this road accesses a few different wild towns. The one I will be assuming leadership of is centered around a lovely reservoir lake, I believe it gets its name from the lake's water source.”

“Do townships here often elect outside leaders? I notice you and your friends are new to the area.” Ayleah asked, curious. Jaern's traveling companions gave each other a glance.

“Well...no, not usually.” Jaern said, bolstering as he went on, “But there was a regional notice that they were looking for assistance, and when one has the feeling of destiny like I do...plus, I am a born leader- royal blood and all -I'm sure they're going to take to me right away. Don't get me wrong, I'm not some 'city boy' coming in to show these folks how to run a town. I'm born and bred in the wilds, the son of a proud and respected family in the hills. I just want to give them a figurehead to rally around; someone to stoke their confidence and allow them the space to create the order they so desire.”

When the group reached a major junction in the road, they hired a taxi cart from a row near the wayfinding building. The rest of the short trip to the town center passed mostly quietly, though when they were loading the cart Leb spoke to Ayleah as an aside:

“I'd take most he says with a good grain of salt. He's an impressive specimen, but Jaern's never really been this far from his home lands. I wish him well, I do, but I know I might end up having to carry him out of danger someday. Hopefully the people of the township let him down easily.”

Ayleah kept her voice low. “You don't think he's the natural leader he says he is?”

Leb looked at his friend, sitting down in one of cart's front seats. “One day he very well may be. But not yet. This outing will be the beginning of what he needs.”

Loom

 

For a stretch of time the only sound was the swishing of blades, scythe against grass. Tall stems and long leaves fell gently for their size, slowly revealing the terrain before the small explorers party. Visibility through the uncut field was not impossible, but the grass grew in such a tangle upon itself that all sight dimmed soon to a woody sort of vagueness. The plant matter naturally occurred in large mounds and made progress forward impossible without the aid of well-honed scythe wielders. Kaya herself did not cut, but carried vital supplies and oversaw the group's effort. The going had been steady but slow since they had left the pilgrim's track. Cleared roadways only led so far out or to specific places in the Sanctuary meadows. Smaller tracks connected disparate locations; narrow trails in a dense world of green.

Viewfinding from the city had located small leafy growths beginning to show themselves in a trackless section of the field. The potential for new trees and sanctuary groves was always interesting, and it had been Kaya's idea to lead a party out from the old pilgrim track that crossed the field to investigate the nature of these new sprouts. They were likely a welcome addition to the Sanctuary lands, but if the plants were of an invasive type removal and follow-up visits might be necessary. The scholars of the city-sanctuary carefully cultivated the energies of the meadows, and only allowed harmonious ones to proliferate. Kaya was always excited to lend a hand in the maintenance efforts of such a beautiful and peaceful place.

As the cutters swished in silence for a moment, her thoughts wandered to nowhere in particular. The sky above showed a blue only slightly dulled by cloud, fringed with tender tips of the tall grasses. They bent crazily across one another, waving gently as a sort of mindless hive-pattern. Their character seemed centered way up there, near the tapering top of the plant; more friends with the soaring sky than with the ways of those down here on the earth. Kaya felt the denseness of the field around them, and a claustrophobic realization of how enclosed they were by the grasses- these swaying simple entities- came upon her for a moment.

Then the feeling was gone, or momentarily mastered perhaps. She was glad of the company of the party around her and the work of the cutters in blazing a trail. It was a rough-hewn path through the towering green, narrow and curving, but it could be followed back, and seemed to be going in the right direction. The destruction of their passing was the lifeline to the open air. Kaya called for a halt and a location check. Compasses were consulted, and one of the cutters wound together a makeshift grass ladder on a tough weed stalk. After climbing up a good ways, he returned to confirm they were closing on the new leaf island. Indicating a direction, the party resumed forward, and before long they were once again in their work either trailblazing, navigating, or consulting research material. Once again a silence of concentration fell on the group.

Kaya gazed into the dim jungle to either side. It seemed that a pulse of life came from somewhere deep in that wilderness, so far inside that only a bare whisper made it to the artificial openings where mortal ears could hear. It called to her and at once her senses felt warned, as if saying to answer that call was to leave this world behind forever. The wild fascinated her nonetheless, and she became more lost in thought looking to the uncut sides on the trail than to where the party was headed.

As she forgot her place and time for a moment, a dark shape loomed out of the deep greenery in her field of view. In the gloom of the grass jungle, it almost seemed to Kaya a hallucination. Which had come first, the shadow in the jungle or the rapidity in her heartbeat? As they crept forward, it seemed to pass them slowly to the right, like a contemplative deadly beast stalking intruders in its land. Kaya realized what it was and quietly got the attention of Rune, the lead navigator of the crew. When she pointed at the ominous shape in the wilderness, he called to the cutters: “Heya! Halt and regoup! We've almost just run right past it!” to Kaya he said: “Thanks for pointing that out, I guess I wasn't on my spotting game today.”

The tree was slender, and a gentle yet hardy looking thing, rising almost meekly out of the field-grass. Kaya stepped forward around the path of the scythes and approached the trunk alone. The grasses here grew slightly finer and lower, giving way energetically to the presence of the tree. They parted softly as she walked closer, examining the young tree-trunk. It was maybe eleven feet in diameter, clothed in a light gray. The bark was slightly gnarled, giving the impression almost of a bonsai, or at least a tree much older than this one appeared. Its branches began in the upper reaches of the grass, were few, and had a delicate look about them, as if each one were precious. The tree had a duality of elegant fragility and earthen stability. One could tell it had weathered much and would weather much more before ever succumbing. It was a strong tree, and only slightly stunted by its condition out in the open field. Kaya put her hand on the trunk and smiled. The sages would be pleased to hear the Sanctuary had a new oak.

Mia II

 

The land was not a static scene; not simply a stage for her to explore. There were inhabitants already, though they seemed more pieces of the world-structure than a part of the whole as she was. At the first city she came to upon landing, Mia interacted with the citizens. She was curious about others with consciousness; she wanted to contrast her experiences with theirs, and learn more about the world. What she found was that these others were so self-absorbed and myopic that true communication could not be achieved. They concerned themselves almost entirely with petty worries. They remained in mindsets that imprisoned themselves in a place where those worries seemed worth the whole world. When she showed them the overarching magic of reality, they reacted oddly. They would become afraid or even angry, and shun what she had to tell or show them. Additionally they offered nothing in return for fear of losing what they had, even though Mia wanted nothing from them that they could lose.

Disappointed, she turned away from the cities and allowed her consciousness to slip only into the wild places where she could weave her magic in peace. She had been born to a beautiful world, full of life. The energy of potential bubbled and simmered everywhere, taking off into glorious forms as needed. Sometimes one form would supersede another, replacing its matter and maintaining a cycle of energy and nutrient rebirth. From the pool of generation she had stepped out into a broad and multitudinous reaction. It was going to be a wonderful place to play.

The water had been a sort of deep recycling center. Things from the land flowed down in water currents to join the deep, and she had risen from that deep store to manifest in the open air. She wondered if this wasn't her first time feeling the sun like this.

Mia wanted to test her influence on reality. There was no sense in seeking a purpose in life if one's actions have no effect at all. Some influence was clear; just by her presence the surrounding reality was forced to react. How far though could that reaction be taken? The animal-like residents of the city seemed to see each other easily enough, and also interact with wild creatures the same. They often had trouble perceiving her though, and would walk almost right through her if she wasn't paying enough attention. In some ways she seemed more capable though. For example, distance seemed to apply differently to her consciousness than with theirs'. The other beings seemed so caught up in their own perspective that they had to follow strange laws relating to their perception. This gulf of understanding was another factor in her shunning the cities. She could not well influence a world that could not understand the change.

There was something about this world that Mia wanted to change. She could not quite place what it was yet, but there was a fault to the world. It was like a giant majestic piece of machinery covered in moss and thick vines. There was a sense of nostalgia and beauty mixed peacefully in golden sunlight. It was a scene in which one wanted to sigh, knowing that all stories had come to a tranquil and satisfactory end. Not that the world was still- life buzzed about every corner and the inhabitants of the land often engaged in turmoil, but things seemed content as they were.

Contentment made Mia uneasy. She wanted a healthy tension, something to give that buzzing life a reason to think about itself in its striving. She wanted that majestic piece of machinery to shake off the moss and lichen, to break that suffocating growth and have it whir to life. If the world was a giant wheel, she wanted it to turn again. In seeking a how, she turned from the consciousness of the cities (in whom she had had initial hope of positive work) and found refuge in the deeper natural places. Low-lying wetland glens became her first workshop. She merged with the green growth to learn of its needs, and spoke with the salamanders and other mud dwellers to hear what they knew. She watched the turning of the days and nights, the passing of the weather, and how the inhabitants of the surface world coexisted. In her scheming elemental awareness a picture formed, and then the beginnings of a plan.