Evergreen Magic

 

A new bright sunny morning found teams at the Battell clearing ready to go on their days. While most of the traffic packed up and headed down towards the road junction, Jaen's group pointed their vehicles at the route uphill and began to make their way out of the village. The dirt road wound up through dense pine woods filled with the soft twinkle of woodland houses. An undergrowth of moss came out to line the walls of the way, still composed of the same glittery shale. The pitch seemed somewhat gentler than the road up to the ridge had been, but eventually they came across patches where it would steepen, gaining ever more elevation. At these points the surface would cut in like giant stair-steps to aid in the repulsors effort uphill. Local wheeled traffic had more difficulty with the stepped stretches, taking narrow routes up on the sides, or switch-backing the whole flight.

More often, it seemed locals shunned the main road, preferring their own routes threading along the slopes. Numerous cart-tracks forked off into thick moss and spruce, leading to ledges and pockets on the hillside. The driveways were often well-hidden, and Ayleah was sure they led to paradisaical groves whose tenders desired to keep forever secret from visiting eyes. The only trespassers the hermits accepted in their secluded mountain glens were the animals, as those were closer to a part of the land anyway.

The land was a wonder, even to those in the party who had been there before. Whole fuzzy green meadows stretched up and undulated into the distance under the spruce canopy. Moss completely dominated the stark mountain land, coating the surface of the forest floor and even reaching up some of the trees. Mushrooms made an appearance too; small glassy ones that poked gently from moss-laden cliffs and large towering toadstools with brightly-colored tops. Their frequency and placement was often influenced by the residents, accentuating homestead gardens. The signs of life about were many, as humble farms cut their little patches into the mossy glens. Rustic cart-tracks connected dwellings and small trading squares in a network of terraces along the slopes. All the time the mountain continued upward ahead of the travelers, steady and singular. The road wound back and forth but always in a northerly direction, ascending the slope of the peak.

Ayleah found she thought little of the others, or of recent events for a while, so enraptured was she in the sights of this mountain community. The land was not so harsh here, though somewhat isolated being a couple days travel from any city. Life seemed to thrive in a peaceful, contemplative way, taking good care of whatever it had available. The denizens looked to live a sparse life, but there was a glow of contentment nevertheless. Ayleah supposed it came from their security in undisturbed community up here on the mountain. That, and the clarity of the air here. Ayleah would sometimes stop what she was doing and just breathe the air, enjoying utterly the smells of the forest in all its blossoming and decay. She could take in with all senses at once the spruce needles and bark, the dirt, the bitter stone, the crisp air, and the undercurrent of animal musk. That out-breath was always a moment of complete peace.

Not one to give in easily though, the mountain revealed itself to them around a bend in the road. A small wayside and a more noticeable side-track proclaimed the first real rock ledge of their route. A whole sheet of stone, from their perspective nearly the size of a small city were it unearthed. It raised itself like the spine of some sea creature heaving up through the woods, shouldering aside the earth to expose and breathe the sky. The road ran in a direct line up to one side of the middle crest, bounded in a narrow crevice of the rock.

The group paused to check the vans; secure baggage and make sure the engines were at peak performance. Then one by one they began an ascent. The rock spine leveled off towards its summit, so the going was not so bad after an initial short effort. The crevice barely afforded space for any oncoming traffic though, so the drivers, especially Jaen and Bellinda, were grateful they did not encounter any. Once up the slope, the road left the crevice and crossed open rock between green woodland canopies. The spine continued up a bit more to the left, forming a miniature rocky peak among the pine glade. Here there was an inn and a more sizable collection of dwellings.

There had been a moment approaching the ledge that Ayleah had been apprehensive. This road had an intensity unknown to her previous woodland travels. She figured the others had been by this same exact ledge before, but it still felt dangerous and she was glad to reach the level spot below the pine knoll. She had been well-reassured by the casual skills of the driver of her van.

Heights

 

There was an air of soft excitement to the shelter camps. All around in the glow of numerous lights people plotted their adventures or told stories of nostalgia and love. At the edges of the lights others lulled to sleep by the quiet murmurs.

Ayleah stood at the edge of the shelter's opening, looking out into the night. The woodland glade which had been so lively during the day was quiet and empty. Here and there lights shone from the shrubby sides, either local dwellings or camps that shunned the enclosed community of the shelter. The spruce forest was a painting of shadows. The lights of homes dwindled as they climbed steep slopes beyond the market square. Thin trees supported a wiry canopy and sprouted from a moss-patched undulating carpet. Before she really had made the decision, she was down from the shelter and wandering along one of the forest lanes.

That whole afternoon had seemed a little dreamy actually. She had felt her spirit recover as they climbed the mountain, now over a full day's cycle past the incident at the trailhead. The magical scenery had been a good distraction, but she still had desired to slip away from the group by the time twilight came.

After dinner, she had gone to explore the shelter-village, ending up at the edge of the opening, looking out. It felt almost as if she had been drugged for the past few hours, only now waking up from that sort of dreamy state. There was no reason to think she had been, only that the encounter with and arrival of Kaeri in their group had been so odd and strangely notable to her. Ayleah reasoned that the compilation of all those thoughts, feelings, and perceptions were the reason behind her solo evening walk.

For just a moment the body was in shadow, with only a pair of reddish eyes staring back at her from the darkened glade. Then the guest themself stepped forward, seeming to materialize on the path. Kaeri looked more masculine than they had earlier, wrapped in a short but substantial cloak of deepest green. Their face was hooded, but exuded only friendliness upon seeing Ayleah.

“Decided on a twilit walk as well Ms. Pine?”

This felt right, though she had come here to be on her own. “I've just had so much on my mind lately. I needed some time away from the others to put it all together.” she took a deep breath. “The air is really nice out here too.”

They stopped at a spot where deep blue sky could be seen past the falling slope to the south. Kaeri looked at her curiously. “Why did you come up here?”

Ayleah was somewhat startled by the question. This person surely was connected with the peripheral orange flashes she had been seeing for some time now. Was Kaeri simply a pawn for whatever energies were trying to help her? If they truly were some sort of aetheric being, then what was the purpose of this question? And how should she answer, especially given the time and place? She tried not to stall too long, but thought about the words as they came.

“I suppose, I felt I had to. My mentor, to whom I've pledged my service in education, has not been heard from in over a moon-cycle. He should have reported by now, and I'm concerned for his safety traveling on his own in the hills.”

“Are you really that concerned? Telon is a master scholar from the Queen Cities. I am sure he has traveled solo to the mountains before now and can take care of himself. If you respect him so much as a teacher, you should be aware of that much as well.”

Ayleah bit her lip, ultra-aware again of her surroundings. “I guess...you're kind of right. I know he's much more well-equipped for this sort of expedition than I am. But I still feel like I should be here, like I was drawn to this village by something. Curiosity, maybe, what else?”

“I don't doubt you crave adventure, as you should.” Kaeri said, grinning. “I certainly thrive on it and almost can't understand anyone who doesn't. Your curiosity is possibly your best trait Ayleah. Why did you get on the wrong LDT from the Sanctuary?”

Ayleah looked confused for a moment. “I got the schedules mixed up. Left at the wrong time, and didn't want to wait another week for a shuttle to the mountains.”

“That's not like you though, to mix up an important plan.” Kaeri returned.

“If I hadn't, if I had left on time-”

“You would never have met Jaen, or his fine companions.”

Kaeri let the silence fall; waited for Ayleah to speak next.

“Who are you?”

“Like I said, I give my name as Kae-ri. I can promise I will be a friend and an aid to you when I can. You, Ayleah, are one of the few humans that seems to be able to sense the connecting energies of things. Now, don't for a minute think you're special: any one of you should be able to sense that aspect of the world. I just find it fascinating when one of your kind takes the time to appreciate the world around them enough that it ceases to be invisible to them. Some might have malicious intent, but one who would be my friend? That is a real treasure, and one I would gladly fight for.”

“It really has always been you?” Ayleah turned to look fully at the other, only now appreciating the fact. “You keep talking about 'my kind'. What kind are you?”

Kaeri smiled again and looked away. “I am without that sort of distinction. I once was a frog who remembered they used to be a rock. My life changed dramatically from that moment. I have been many things, but I still enjoy being rocks from time to time.” they sounded half joking, half wistful.

Ayleah's mind was running with the things she had learned at the Sanctuary. “With Telon, and with the other scholars, I learned about the energy of places and objects. You're...like a magical place come to life!”

“Your scholars get some of that wrong. There is no place that has more energy than another. Perhaps one that is more polished, or harmonious, or suited for a certain activity. But the whole of reality is one pool of energy. That is why I can be anything, because I know that it's all the same.” the robe had been replaced at some point by a well-tailored dark red suit. “You are not special because you have a connection to the magical energies of the world. You are fortunate to have developed exceptional powers of perception towards them. It has given you a power of luck, and only led you astray once so far. You should be aware of how you cultivate your connection and which energies you connect with.” Kaeri looked Ayleah square in the face, their deep russet eyes betraying a playfulness behind the steadfast gaze. “Above all, enjoy this life! If there is one thing I have learned in my travels it is that life is a wondrous gift; an opportunity of working in this beautiful world. Don't let whatever destiny be a weight: let it sweep you, soaring, to the heights.”

Kae-ri

 

What struck Ayleah most was not the sight of the familiar color and its cue in her mind, but rather an accompanying surge of feeling that had the party not already decided to stop at the glade, she would have pressed them to do so. The person on the rock had been staring at her as they passed, not the vans in general, but her specifically it seemed. It seemed crazy, because it didn't seem to her she would be very visible from that high vantage point. She felt a meeting of the eyes as she looked through her window though, and there was a slight magnetic draw, like the poles of two universes had momentarily aligned. Now as the group pulled their vehicles into a large clearing by the roadside, the person on the rock leapt gracefully down and approached almost casually.

They were an adolescent youth, it appeared, of indeterminate gender. Dressed simply, as a villager of the mountains and carrying a fine walking staff along with a shoulder-purse. Sutton was the first out of the vans, noticing the stranger and ever wary of a trap. Jaen also descended from the cab and regarded the youth, somewhat less cautiously than his guardsman. He held out a hand indicating Sutton could relax for now. He approached the villager, who still had not addressed them.

“Can we help you? Do you desire passage up-hill?”

The other nodded, but their gaze and stance remained firm. Sutton fidgeted, his eyes combing the woods around for signs of trouble. The mountain-side store stood a little ways away, and Bellinda's van had already begun to head over for some necessities.

Jaen spoke again, indicating Bellinda's group: “Well, we have room in our second van, but we are on a tight schedule so we'll be moving on soon.” When the other simply held his gaze and still said nothing, he furrowed his brow and glanced at Sutton: “Do they not understand me?”

Sutton's gaze though was now fixed on the stranger, his hand moving by the millimeter for his sword hilt. In response to Jaen's last words however, the youth held up with both hands a small pine branch with fresh green sprouted tips. They did it almost solemnly, but their face was soft and light with a contained child-like joy. Ayleah saw from her window and something seemed to click in her mind. She got out of the van and approached the stranger, despite Jaen and Sutton's exhortations to the contrary. The other only stood there with a slight orange aura about them, looking at her with an expression of intrigue. She wondered if that faint glow was only in her mind, and as she tried to focus it seemed to fade all the more. Time seemed to her extraordinarily vivid, as if slowed by her very awareness of each and every moment, and the glow was now all about the periphery of her vision – dissapating into the trees. Taking the pine bough from the other, she asked their name. Whether or not the lips actually moved, all in the vicinity could clearly hear. “Kae-ri”, they said, and the trailing edges of their voice seemed to meld with the forest around.

Then they were on their way again. Jaen and Sutton sat in command of the first van, eyes on the alert for dangers of the forest roads. Ayleah sat behind with Atkins, discussing the hitchhiker. To Ayleah it seemed significant, though she couldn't say how. The orange glow had always seemed to be helping her when it appeared before, and maybe this youth knew something about Telon. At their stops she had asked if anyone had seen the scholar but gotten nothing. He must have come this way, and would have been of note to the sharp-eyed woodsfolk. When they stopped for the night perhaps she would have time to chat with the newcomer. In any case she knew Kaeri belonged with their party because of the pine branch. It had been an odd sort of answer for why they wished passage with this particular party, but a startling one. The symbolism of the 'young Pine' had not been lost on at least a couple of the group.

The road above the halfway glade had increasingly become a series of narrow washed-out dells. Dense walls of evergreens marched along the tops of rock walls carved by rain and runoff from the mountain. The steadily climbing surface glittered with flashes of mica and quartz and the entire land began to change into one of moss and gems. Under the stiff boughs of spruce and fir was an undulating land of decay. Lush green moss meadows interspersed with barren hollows where the death side of the cycle predominated. Sometimes the club-moss on the banks grew so tall that it looked to Ayleah like townspeople watching them pass. The little friendly beings stood there in ranks among the newborn evergreens. Every size of dark green growing thing was represented here, from the giant older trees that formed the canopy to the little club-mosses, only six- or seven-feet tall on their lichen lawns. Ayleah looked them as they passed, quietly alarmed by their personalities. They were the true denizens of the land, outnumbering the mobile fauna and human travelers. They each chose a spot to live their whole life, some reclining under dappling boughs and others bravely standing on the rocky edges of the world. They tended their mossy yards, admired the unintended artwork of an acorn or spiderweb, and observed all the vibrancy of life as it went by around them. The vans climbed higher, and the forest took them in.

Mountain Road

 

It wasn't long before the depths of the surrounding woodlands cured Ayleah of the darker thoughts that had followed her from the trailhead. Her gaze stretched out into the seemingly endless green passing by the van's window. Mottled shades of uncountable leaves layered in pretty ways against the pale sunlight. Small buzzing and chirping things zipped through the air between trees or called out from hidden perches. Ayleah knew forests, but this one was so much grander; it went on into the distance and along the slopes of the hills for miles, climbing up mountainsides with trees that were tall and wise. It was a veritable jungle of vegetation and life, equally over as well as around them. Great pillars of living wood supported a heaven of greenery above an undulating world of rock crevices and leafy meadows.

Though all ages of trees seemed represented in the forest, Ayleah was most drawn to the gigantic ancient ones by which the road passed close. They almost seemed anchors to the passage of travelers. Old trees were numerous enough here that these could not be counted for landmarks, but were impressive nonetheless. Some even sported small inns or camping spots for those journeying up- or down-slope. Along the steeper sections where the road would become more gravelly, small saplings would crowd the washed-out pitches, forming bright little groves. Beech and maple were prevalent in a diverse and lively succession, their huge dead logs lying moldering in wet pockets of the terrain.

The heavy-duty repulsars of the transports tracked slowly under their loads, especially as the road began to pitch upward ever more steeply. It was terrain the like of which Ayleah had never known. They would climb one wooded hill, and reach what felt to her a respectable little summit. Then the road would turn, and they would be faced with another hill just as large as the previous. The engines strained on the hills, but the designers of the mountain road had been clever enough to include brief respites of flatter terrain. The road itself was a wide dirt track fringed with gravel and smallish boulders. On the more rugged slopes the surface broke into shale and the boulders would edge in, making for difficult going. It seemed incredible that anyone could get around up here as a part of daily living. Yet, there were plenty signs of habitation.

The next day, and after a few hills as Ayleah reckoned it, they came upon a small village at a stream-crossing. A wooden bridge supported by boulders in the current allowed locals to traverse around a pleasant clear pool. The waters came out of deep woodlands, fed the pool, and glistened through a broad tangle of rocks to reform in a single current on the slope below. The mountainside river created a wonderful ambiance about this otherwise unremarkable glen. A little further along there also looked to be a second bridge, and a small wooden sign they had just passed read: “Twin Crossings”, with an image of a stag's head below. At the clear pool the party came to a stop and stretched their legs. They had been mostly quiet on the way up from the trailhead, but now took the moment to inquire into each-others' feelings. They all felt somewhat refreshed by the change of scenery, and cleansed by the sounds and feel of this crisp mountain water. There was a general shift in the mood of the party from a dark reflectiveness to a practical excitement for the way ahead.

Ayleah asked Sutton about how the people on the mountainside lived if they didn't have repulsar technology. Parts of the road they had taken had looked utterly impassible for wheeled vehicles.

“Well, sure, almost no-one around here has repulsars; they'll be using wheels to move their goods around. But you see the side roads? They have a whole network of small tracks around the settlements. Often they don't even have to use the main trail much at all. Just as well since repulsars erode the trail surface faster.

“Folks up on the mountainside have a different sense of how to get around on this sort of terrain. A lot of them never go much up- or down-hill from where they live and work, just side to side a bit.”

“Are a lot of these high-elevation town hermit communities?” Ayleah asked. “It seems like one would really have to want to be away from the rest of society to live up here.”

A micro-expression of wistfulness passed Sutton's face. “It's true, there's probably a greater than average percentage of people up here that would prefer to be left alone. For others though, it's simply the magic of the land. Many people see something in the ecosystem up here that attracts them without reason, like a spiritual power. I've even heard them credit it for the warmth and success of their communities. You haven't seen the true high-elevation towns yet; it really is quite special up there.”

Sutton admitted that though he had a deep appreciation for the mountains, he had never really felt that 'thing', as he put it, that would drive one to choose the hermit lifestyle. He preferred to live in the valley, visiting the heights every so often as a pilgrimage of sorts. For her part, Ayleah thought she could understand what that attraction was, and thought a part of Sutton had felt it too.

The group left the twin crossings and continued up through the endless forest. The road crossed along sides of hills where rolling woodland fell away to one side and imposing trees marched to incredible heights on the other. Sometimes Ayleah thought they had taken a wrong turn because the road resembled a stream-bed more than anything else. In places large wooden bars had been inlaid across the path, intending to hold the roadway above in place. It was as if they ascended the mountain on long sloping steps, repulsars slowly raising them higher in elevation. It seemed that ascent would never end. Soon after the stream crossings though the forest began to change subtly. There were fewer giant trees now, and here and there an evergreen stood out proud and dark. Ayleah began to see more moss in the undergrowth, and larger boulders poking from ledges beside the ever-climbing roadway.

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It certainly felt like the hill went on for an impossible amount of time, especially if one were not used to traveling in the green mountains. Flor had been on trips like this before, but not many, and still carried some of the dispiritedness that plagued novices to the woods. Luckily he was excellent enough at his job that its focus was a good distraction – the excitement at the trailhead had given him plenty to think about besides the distance to the heights. He had made sure all the vehicles were in good shape after the attack, and could engage in repairs on the road if need should arise. The computers and internal tech of the vans, such as they had, were all still properly functioning as well.

The job was not immersive though, and Flor enjoyed as well the company of the others in the group. He had originally been riding in the second van with Bellinda and a friend of Jaen's who had joined as an extra ranger. After the fight though he had switched vehicles in the shuffle compensating for the loss of Craig. His new driver was a seasoned mountain man, incredibly hardy for his advanced age and of a demeanor that offered little in the way of conversation. Flor thought he much preferred the previous arrangement.

Bellinda could be appropriately serious, but was also extremely good-humored and an essential part of the heart in this group. Flor had known her for some time, occasionally working alongside her around the Lincoln cities. She was also a good friend of Jaen's family, and had offered to come as second-in-command for his sake. Flor knew she cared for Jaen as a sort of aunt, and saw the way she left herself out of all the important decisions of their trip unless prompted by him for guidance. It was a trait a few in the party seemed to have; Bellinda was not the only one hiding useful skills.

-

The Second Driver herself was concerned with the quality of the road surface. She knew the other drivers personally, and was confident in their abilities, but these vans were a more recent purchase and it was only human to be preoccupied with the safety of her stuff. The road surface had slowly changed from a rocky earthen track punctuated by steep drifts of shale. It was now littered with more and more boulders that, while not insurmountable, made for rough going. In some places it would get so bad that they would have to use the repulsars creatively to pick their way carefully from rock to rock up the slope. Navigating across the giant tumbles caused the vehicles to roll up and down, and Bellinda hoped all the cargo was secure. Any accident and they might be cursing the loss of their lists manager.

Craig had been a good man, peaceful and intelligent, yet capable enough for a life in the woods. He had lived in a small city on the edge of the valley, and had been fond of walking out in its green spaces. Bellinda was truly sorry for his death, and was attentive to the feelings of others in the party. They seemed to be doing okay, though there was now a sort of melancholy that tinged the expedition. It certainly helped to get up on the mountain's shoulder and out of the thickness of the valley. The air of the mountain forest had a soothing effect as long as you were not behind the wheel. They were nearing a glade where Bellinda knew there was a well-established store, and she decided they should stop soon for a rest.

-

To be fair, Atkins thought, she had come on this trip thinking it might be exciting. It was not her first time on a forest expedition, but it was her first time going to the alpine areas. She was fascinated with the different ecosystems in far-off places, and was actually studying the alpine zone plants when the window in front of her had been broken.

She glanced across at Ayleah, wondering what she was thinking right now. This girl, nearly her own age, had come from a village on the shores of the great lake. She had come all the way into the mountains, to lands brand-new to her for what end? Was it purely concern for a lost mentor that she braved the unknown, or was there a measure of raw curiosity? Most likely it was both, and Atkins respected her for that. The more she thought about it, the more the bandits' mistake made sense to her. They looked nothing alike, Ayleah's hair was a lighter, almost burnt color to Atkins's dark curls, but she could see a possible kinship. They were both explorers in their own ways and Atkins could feel the positive tension of the influence they could have on each other. Her own life had only ever been in danger thanks to this Ayleah, and somehow that wasn't a bad thing.

As they approached the glade where Bellinda planned a rest, large moss-covered boulders continued to shoulder their way into the roadside here and there. The party rounded a corner, climbing a shallow slope that rose their course above a thin water channel off to the side. On a rock just ahead, and casually off to the side of the road, sat a small person as if waiting patiently. It seemed (to Ayleah at least) that they emanated a soft orange glow.

Death

One day, during Ayleah's time at the Sanctuary, a teacher had entered the classroom dressed in a cloak of pure white rather than the brown or greenish tones they were used to seeing. As the scholar walked and turned, one could see the underside of the robe and the underclothes were of a rich fathomless black. The teacher was one they all knew, but the raiment was unusual and drew the attention of the class.

The teacher began with little in the way of introduction, never mentioning the garments.

“The topic today is one which is, unfortunately, applicable for all ages. It is namely the one which plagues us all, young and old, and especially those who would desire to remain ageless. It is the inescapable destiny of us all, and one of which we must not be afraid.

The pauses in the lecture that day could be felt more tangibly than usual.

“You here, in this room, are so beholden to this world that whether through your negligence or another's malice harm may come to you. This fact means that you are mortal and thus already know something about this topic of death. As mortals you have experienced greater or lesser versions of death as you go about living. Death conditions us, in pieces, for that ultimate fate, and to be afraid of death is to be afraid of the greatest lessons that life has to teach us.”

The skylights in the sweetwood house were only a passive grey, though it was late in the morning. Dull clouds thoroughly but thinly blocked the sun that day, though Ayleah could remember a few beams shining through later in the afternoon. The air in the classroom that morning though had still felt of the rain the night before. The class sat thinking about their own experiences of death, each showing a different place on the spectrum from solemn to intrigued. For her part, Ayleah thought about the sheer heights of the cliffs back home on the lake-shore, and those who must have gone that way in the history of her town. She mostly focused on the teacher though, who seemed to be imparting the importance of the moment.

“Life is the precious experience of which we have all been chanced with the opportunity. It holds rare delights in both exploration and reflection, but takes some work to nurture properly. If one is to have a satisfying life, one must find at least small purposes, reasons that is, to persist in living.

“Some find a grand purpose that commands a course for their life, but a collection of smaller, similarly-directed ones will do just as well. With a foundation of purpose, one can sketch a map of sorts for one's life. Our goals and dreams act as way-stations between death and where each of us is in the present, but it is important to not lose sight of that ultimate path. We often mistake the goals and dreams for the final destination as a way of tricking ourselves into not reckoning with our ultimate mortality. It is important to remember that while we may know somewhat the points along the way, we do not know the scale of the journey. Through various efforts we can try and maximize the length and impact of our journey, but we are blessed without the exact knowledge of our expiration. That moment is shrouded in the mists of the future.

“Above all, it is important to remember not to cling to those aspects of life which we find along the way. There are many things in life we may come to love or hate, and it is these things which can bring desire. Our emotions do not easily understand that the constant state of reality is a flow; everything changes in some way eventually. It is often folly of ours that we attempt to decide when something enters or leaves our reality. There are even those who teach that that clinging is the whole root of our worldly suffering-that desires themselves are the cause of any pain we feel. This leads to the question of whether there can be a life free from suffering. Death is inevitable, but how can we get there safely?

“Let us take the word 'being' as a verb state describing our navigation of the flow of existence. Most of us will admit that to simply 'be' is not enough, and we feel stagnant just loafing around in our lively energies. A desire for purpose shows us that we must 'be-toward' something; we must exist in a state of being that moves us forward along a flow of reality and life with all its numerous attributes. These attributes will flow past or through our way, and we react appropriately, attempting not to judge or cling to that which is external.

“If we are not self-deceived, we will know our being is directed toward death, and that the destination is inevitable. We need not worry, that port will guide us safely home in any weather. What we do get to direct is the course between here and there. We have opportunities at every turn to alter our place in the flow, or to take other streams that meander through the countryside. Each stream or current of life will flow to the sea, but there are an infinite number of ways to get there. If we live consciously and well, not only will we be able to slow the rate of our journey to that dark and fathomless sea, we will also have the presence of awareness to notice more of the scenery along the way. Being-towards our own mortal demise, as mysterious as it ever will be, lends us the perspective to lead a better life.”

Ayleah though of Craig. Had he contemplated his own mortality? Though they were smart enough, these people in the caravan were mostly not scholars. They had a different understanding of and perspective on life. She suspected it all came down to the same things though. As the teacher had said, everyone knows something about death, so long as they are mortal. She thought about the path her own life was on; her journey from the lake-shore to this rugged mountainside, climbing a rocky road with a band of rangers. She hoped Telon was alright. She knew she should never have been as worried about him as she had been, but that fear had never truly been rational. She felt something had shifted in the world, and felt that it was tied to her relationship with him somehow. These were feelings half dreamt, and not disclosed to anyone on her voyage to the falls or with her new friends. Maybe Niisi would have understood, but Ayleah herself wasn't sure what she was feeling. Only that she needed to see Telon again.

The teacher had continued, expanding on the importance of her topic. “Death not only gives us a perspective on our own lives, but on the nature of life in general. As everything dies, first everything also needs nourishment in order to grow. There is no answer to which came first: the nutrients must exist for life to sprout, and sprouted growth must give way for nutrients to germinate. The eternal cycle is one of growth, propagation, and death of the previous generations. This cycle feeds a continual engine of reality into which we are born; a universal balance to which we are given a tiny part of the reins. In the wild and in our tamed fields alike, we see this cycle with plants. A green thing grows, produces, and dies, decaying into soil and substrate for the next to grow in its place. Each being has its own cyclical nature, some completing that cycle faster than others. While we can see the relationship the generations of plants have with the cycle of death more readily, it seems our own cycles easily elude our perception. Humans live longer and more complex lives, lives which readily distract them from the grand flows of reality. We are not so simple in our cycles as the plants or even the animals of this world, but our greater power demands that we try and grasp them anyway. We have, through no choice of our own, a responsibility to be aware of our generational cycles and the influence they can have as we move forward in the flow...”

A little ways in front of her, she could see Jaen sitting in the drivers seat of the transport. They were at the head of the group with Sutton and Atkins, the navigator who had been mistaken for Ayleah in the fight. Though the mood was somber, Jaen's helm still gleamed softly in the dappled light of the woods. She stared at him for a bit, then realized she had still been in shock from the sudden brutality of the fight. She closed her eyes and settled deeper into her seat, listening to the soft sounds of the woods floating above the whir of engines. Those sounds were immortal, and knew not the burdens travelers listening and passing by.

Conflict

 

His brother was smoking again. He still did it every now and then, seemingly just often enough to bother his sibling's mind. It wasn't just that it was unhealthy, he felt that the smoke slowed his brother down in the heat of things. He was less capable after he smoked, even if he wouldn't admit it, and they both needed to be capable for the type of work they did. At least the wind was in their favor.

The two brothers were sitting well-hidden by a rock wall on the Hill of Elders. Behind them a grand view of the Lincoln valley opened up, faraway tall hills staggering blue-green against the southern horizon. The party they were tracking had stopped for a rest some distance away on the roadside. From the hidden vantage point they surveyed their quarry.

The group consisted of five vehicles, four of which were equipped with loads bound for the mountain townships. They had only three full warrior-rangers between them, though the captain and his second-in-command both seemed hardy enough. The rest didn't concern him. At least, that is, he didn't think they would get in the way of the operation. It had just been decided, between the two of them, that the girl should be taken into custody before her party started up the mountain trail. As capable as the two brothers were, they did not relish the idea of chasing a well-equipped party of rangers up a mountain where they would find ever increasing impediments to their efforts. The mountain townships were wild, but well-protected, and with harsh weather. They much preferred the comforts of the valley. One could get away with a lot more suspect but profitable business within river-vale society, and food was easier to come by. The man in black had said to only follow and observe so he could know the girl's whereabouts, but that would be even easier to do if they had her in captivity. Then he and his slow-witted brother could avoid roughing it on the mountain road. The girl would not be difficult to capture, but they would need some help. Luckily they had many family and friends in the valley, and a quick message would bring them to the trailhead well in time for an ambush.

After a short break they were on their way again, heavy repulsars treading easily on the graded road. The sweeping views to the right were cut off by a bank of forest, but Ayleah was not disappointed. Wondrous sheets of gold and green shone vibrantly through the depths young woods to wither side. The road crested another rise, and then narrowed as it reached a junction right at the foot of the mountain. The party turned with the narrowing roadway, and entered a deeper grove of trees. There was no more avenue of sky above the road, and the larger old forest of the mountain wrapped right around their way. More woods roads branched off to the left, and it seemed that they came to a small village clearing. Local streets wiggled their way out from a main gravel lot, though one heading east seemed more used than the rest and bore a large directional sign. The main road continued on north past the clearing, but the party circled up and stopped off to the side. Here and there along the edge of the open area sat travelers by camps or vagrants in various states of wakefulness. A couple convenience shops opened lazily onto the rough square. As the lead vehicle came to a stop, Sutton got out and, ever on the alert, began to casually establish a perimeter, gazing with suspicion at the trees around them.

It was Atkins though, the navigator of the group, who first knew what was happening. She was sitting in the side of the van studying her charts when the flexglass window above her head was ripped off and thrown to the ground. In its place was a threatening sort of fellow who seemed intent on grabbing her next. Given his treatment of the previous thing in his hands, she was strongly against the idea. Thinking quickly, Atkins pushed herself away from the open window, and aimed a kick at the man's chest. “Not her idiot! Over here!” was heard from outside the vehicle, and a small chaos ensued.

The rangers of the party came quickly to their defense. Sutton had whipped around at the sound of a crash to see a window gone from the lead truck, a man just getting up from the ground, and Ayleah wresting with another who was trying to drag her away. The ranger from the second truck had just reached the scene when Sutton was engaged in combat from his other side. Many of the vagrants had rushed the party, attempting in their attack to give the brothers time to get away with the target. The valley men surrounded the vehicles and caused general chaos by rampaging them, even attempting to loot the carriers. Though fearsome and confident in their numbers, they did not count on the skills of those in the party. The two warrior-rangers earned their pay well. Sutton, Jaen, and the second driver Bellinda also proved invaluable in their calm command and ability to protect. At one point it seemed Ayleah would be taken, overwhelmed as she was by the superior strength of her captor, but Raik managed to free his small scout craft from the fray and blocked the brother's exit. He forced the man to loosen his grip of Ayleah just enough for her to break free and use the scout craft to get to away. Once Ayleah had left the scene and the valley men realized the extent of their injuries thus far they dispersed into the woods. Sutton and the other two rangers re-established a perimeter of the clearing, making sure none of the enemies continued to lurk nearby. Jaen and Bellinda surveyed the vehicles and regrouped the crew.

Ayleah returned with Raik on the scout craft to a dispiriting scene. Broken glass and other items were strewn around the parked vans, and the scuffed ground was dotted with what was most likely blood. The attackers had focused more on creating a chaotic scene for the kidnappers to slip away than on causing harm, but inevitably weapons had been raised in the conflict resulting from the defense. The valley men had had axes and other rough weapons, and had injured a few members of the party. None of the injuries seemed major though, and a couple bandages were administered. It was only when the third driver returned to their vehicle that they saw what else had happened. Craig, the lists and manifest manager for the group, had been traveling in the third van. He now lay face-down and unresponsive on the gravel, part of which beneath and next to him was staining a rusty color.

After the carriers were repacked, and the debris cleaned and losses assessed, a small funeral was had at the edge of the open lot. There was still some danger in lingering, and all in the party wanted to leave the place as soon as possible, after what had just happened there. However they had to take a moment to honor the life of one of their own. None in the party had known Craig all that well, but he had been a decent person, and good at his job. Indeed, there was even some concern about the keeping of the manifest now, since Craig had had the best mind of them all for quantities and distribution. They solemnly departed that afternoon, after burying him in a quiet grove of evergreen and loam.

The Man in Black

The world had changed already. Most people won't have noticed at all, wrapped up as they were in their own petty issues. This man however had spent enough time regarding the minute mysteries of the world to see the difference now.

It began with his initial forays into meditation. When he lit the candle, the rest of the world shimmered and dimmed, slightly out of focus. All that mattered in those next minutes was the flame, multifaceted, and the charring light of its core. It was much like a crystal whose color and shape gleamed and changed continuously without rotation. A mirror, placed beyond the candle flame, and angled so as not to reflect his own face, acted as a good viewing surface. When he had perfected the setup of his meditation space, the mirror showed a pure dark blankness. Not complete darkness in the slight rectangle, but rather a flat constant tone that was just the barest touch lighter than the space around it.

In his meditations with the mirror and the candle, he often saw visions. He had taken this for a natural part of the process, but was disturbed by some of them in particular. Though not initially one given to premonition, sessions involving sights of barren landscapes and widespread hardships gave him cause for concern through their persistence. He had little faith in the clarity of his abilities, but some bad future was on its way. He saw trees bereft of leaves and twisting in high winds. He saw ponds and even rivers coated in ice, their entire surfaces somehow frozen over. In one vision he walked out through drifts of cold white sand, with ash falling from a darkened sky. He came across a frozen pool and was shocked to see a fish suspended in the ice, its mouth open as if gasping for a last breath. These visions always left him chilled to the bone and with a feeling of forewarning. He knew though if such an apocalypse was coming there would be little he could do on his own to stop it.

The favored scholarly places of knowledge and study did not seem to savor his practices, but then again his family had always been on the outcast side of society. They had, in fact, excellent reputation and connections, but none with the parts of society that had come to publicly guide the local communities. Positions of power were relative, and some more visible than others. Throughout his upbringing he had considered the idea that official acceptance of your status means little unless you can back it up with might of reason or the reason of might. Whatever his force of power in the community, there had been no ears for his prophetic concerns. He was often deemed too inexperienced in his arts or unaware of the science he was exploring, the understanding of which would show the error of his ways. At worst he was considered unstable and sent from the halls in ridicule. If there was any truth to his visions, those favored scholars would not have warning from him.

So he endeavored to leave this domain behind. He would endeavor to create, and move through a portal to a different plane, most likely (and hopefully) somewhat parallel to this one. It was not the sheer possibility of this undertaking that hindered his efforts, but only the amount of power required. He was an adept meditator, and could even use darkness bound to his awareness for benefit, but could not nearly approach the concentration needed to open a true portal. He had traveled to the Queen City metropolis and visited dark temples hoping to find wisdom, but they were too obsessed with their own cultist fantasies. He had traveled all around the valley regions, even along the shore of the great lake, seeking powerful places of energy. Any time he found a spot, he would try again, meditating on the candle flame in his darkened tent.

He found in his travels small nexuses of energy, slightly unbound from their surrounding landscape, and with exponential concentrations of power. Some of these he had consumed, like rare dazzling mushrooms. The effects were incredible, and the meditations immediately after consumption of one of these “nexus-flowers” had been some of his most productive and vibrant. Their effects only lasted briefly though, and he would return to searching the region again. His meditations changed their focus to the conjuring or summoning of a powerful nexus specifically for his use. If he could create a large enough one, it could perhaps become a fuel source for his inter-dimensional travel.

The visions had changed again lately too. This time colors had come in more often, unrelated and swirling around the sides of the frame, sometimes behaving in curious manners. Red-orange, and blue-purple mainly showed, with the purple seeming to grow a little stronger over time. There was also the face of a specific girl. Faces were not uncommon in his visions, but this one was different. It looked at him with a defiant and accusatory expression that unnerved him. He knew nothing about her, but she seemed to challenge him. Whatever the reason she could have, he didn't like her appearance in the mirror one bit.

Imagine then his feelings when suddenly this girl was there, in his sanctum. How she had come all the way into his personal space was baffling. The tent had been set up in a darkened side alley in a small township near the base of the mountains. As always, he had chosen the spot to be unobtrusive and relatively private given the circumstances. Indeed, he had even chosen the darkest spot on the lane, and set the tent back among the bushes relative to the rest of the seedy shops on the street. The doorway had been covered with an old tapestry which, though a powerful object in its own right, certainly didn't look inviting to the layperson in its incredibly faded state. And yet, here she was, wandering into his meditation again. That he had failed in capturing her only gave more credence to the theory that she was somehow related to his goal. She clearly had power, perhaps enough for what he needed. It had almost been within his grasp.

Now after the confrontation he had a lot of things to consider. The world of his work had opened up wide and now admitted a host of questions and possible new routes to progress. The meditation had seemed almost successful; that red-orange flash had manifested in real space. Could that have been the fruits of his nexus-conjuring efforts? It had broken the mirror though, which meant he would have to use a stronger scrying material going forward.

He swept up the broken glass thoroughly and notified some of his more trusted men to keep an eye on the girl so he might find her again. It had almost seemed that she herself was going to step right through to somewhere else, but then the spell had broken. Who was this person to be so immediately powerful? He had a brief thought that she was the red-orange light, but immediately dismissed it. The nexuses were never conscious beings, and if they ever gained that sort of awareness he shuddered to think of what would happen to the balance of the world.