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.

Things to Know

As the three of them walked the mossy lake-shore road, Ayleah caught Tormund up with the events of the past day.

Telon had arrived at her door the previous morning. She recognized the man in blue from the marketplace, still wary of quite meeting his gaze. Ayleah had just been telling her parents about the dream she had had the previous night; the one about the ocean of grass, but Telon's knock at the door interrupted her story. What followed were proper introductions and a strange conversation wherein the visitor in the blue robe explained that he and Ayleah may have had the same dream that night. It all felt, in the moment, to Ayleah that parts of her world were converging on some grand harmonious point. It was overwhelming, but she was curious to see where it would lead.

Telon asked her parents if they had been giving thought to her apprenticeship, since she seemed fairly independent, and of the right age to be heading out a bit on her own.

Ayleah was ecstatic, and reminded her father of the conversation they had had the other day. She wanted to apprentice with a scholar, but wanted a change of pace from the local college. She had argued that it would be so much more useful for her to learn from a foreign scholar, as it would give her a broader picture of the world and its knowledge. To her parents, this meeting seemed suspiciously fortuitous, and they were still unsure about this recent stranger, however pleasant his company was.

Telon assured John and Kaitlyn that he would go through the entire process of being certified with their local council as soon as possible. He had long had contacts in the Silver Shores School, and said they could easily verify his accountability as a scholar in good standing. John agreed to go with him to the college, and Kaitlyn, looking proud, said that in that case she'd help Ayleah prepare.

That night the family celebrated, and Ayleah's parents gave her all the wisdom they thought might be useful for a young woman learning the ways of scholars.

Her father gave her a stone too, weathered by the lake's waters. It was smooth and dark gray, with a single white line that ran all the way around its oval shape. “This is a stone of the secret beach, that will always help you remember the waves of your home. Within the white line there is a doorway that only spirits can get through. Sometimes one can live in there, and sometimes one can use it as a gateway to anywhere they want to go.” Her mother gave her three pieces of advice for traveling in the land:

“Know where your water is. Even if you are far from home and the water is unfit to drink, it is still your water, because you have a kinship with it. All elements can be dangerous, but water can be difficult to read or predict. You must always know where your water is and respect its life-giving power.

Know how much there is above your head and below your feet. The world extends in all directions, and all directions are important. Always remember that things fall from high to low, and everything is supported on a framework of trust. The mountain is a structure of trust. The rocks below, and the trees above, both must be equally respected as you take each step.

Know where the sun and the moon are. The sun is our life-giving ever-companion. It travels with us, assuring us that life will be there again every morning. The moon is also our friend. It pulls us together and reminds us that all are under one big sky, and all are working together to shine the light of this world. When all is dark, know where the moon and the sun are.”

Tormund

In his head Tormund recounted the list of things he would need for the trip, checking off items as he identified them on his person. His money pouch and the letters from the elders were tucked safely away, and his pack was well-suited and organized for ease of access and comfort on his shoulders. His clothes were excellently chosen for the weather this day (slightly cool, but quite sunny and pleasant). Furthermore, he felt limber and sound of body for the day's journey. With one last look around he left his home and set the lock on his door. The sunlight filtered through the cedar and hemlock trees and made pretty patterns on the moss and rock outcroppings of the forest. It would be a great day for traveling.

As he was beginning down the path to the lake-shore road, he was greeted by a voice.

“A fine day to you Tormund! And would you care for companions on your walk?”

Tormund turned to see a man in a blue robe standing beside a tree just off the path. He had a calm friendliness about his face, though his eyes hinted at a deep knowledge within. The marshal approached, slowly, and slightly tilted his head. “And who might these companions be?”

A smile, and the man in blue held out a hand. “To introduce myself: I am Telon, a humble scholar of the Champlain Council at Queen City. I have found myself passing through your lovely village on my way inland, and would love to have company on these strange new roads.” he stepped out onto the path and lowered his hood.

Telon continued as the village marshal shook his hand. “The other companion you may already know, as she is a local of these parts.” A girl stepped, seemingly from nowhere behind Telon. “May I present my new apprentice, Ayleah Pine.”

A Dream

That night Ayleah dreamed of the bluebird. It perched in the upper branches of a red bush, its head darting around, looking around at the world. A soft murmur sounded out of vision, and the bird took off. It flew out over a wide open meadow, a weird place, where only shadows of trees stood out against the far horizon. The grass was very tall and immensely thick; a jungle-like canopy that made the land seem like an ocean of brown and green blades. She could not tell how far down the ground was through all that green; her feet only hovered a few inches above the top of the grasses. She looked for the bluebird, but it was lost from her vision.

In his traveler's cabin, Telon dreamed as well. He dreamed of a green and golden light that covered his brain, and that his bed sheet had become a blanket of moss and earth. As he rolled it back, he grew into the sunlight and rose until his feet brushed the tips of the grasses. It was a pleasant dream. There was a light breeze, and the sun was out. “There you are, my blue friend.” A voice, and Telon could see a figure walking towards him along the top of the grass. The man was dressed in light and a robe of swirling greens. “This isn't the real thing, of course”, he gestured around at the field, “but maybe now you'll want to come and visit.”

Telon squinted at the robed man. “Davai, is that you?” If he truly was dreaming about his childhood friend, then there was a chance this wasn't a normal dream. Davai smiled “Yes, yes it is. It's been a while.”

“Twenty years, in fact.” Telon said. “You went off to join a monastery or something, I assumed that might be the last I'd ever hear from you.”

“Still there, well, still here” Davai said. “You should really come and visit us.” he gave Telon a look: “And when I say that, I don't just say it. This is a dream-visitation after all.”

Telon chuckled. “I suppose it is pretty compelling. It looks beautiful here.” The wind ruffled the grasses that stretched into the horizon, and a couple larger clouds dimmed the light for a moment. “Does Lucan know anything about what's been going on?” Telon asked.

Davai took a long slow breath while gazing at the horizon, a slight glint in his eyes. “The land always provides answers. We must learn on our own how to ask the right questions.”

He gave a small bow, and made as if to turn and leave. “Oh, and when you do visit, you should bring your apprentice with you. There is something here for her.”

Telon looked curious: “So you are keeping secrets from me” he laughed. “And here I had no idea I even had an apprentice. When do I meet her?” Davai smiled, “I thought you had already. Worry not, currents will flow together. May your way find peace.” He put his hands together, and only a scrap of bark drifted to the ground.

The wind lifted, and Telon's breath caught in his mouth. There was a pulling inward, and a hollow sound before a comforting darkness. The dream dissolved.

Ayleah woke with a start, the gaze of the man in green still fixed in her mind.

Telon

The fabric of his hood was wearing a little thin, he noticed. A bit of its hem was visible at the top of his vision, and he could see the sunlight through the blue fibers. It was not even originally intended for that much warmth, and he didn't need it in such clear sun. It was more of a costume he supposed; a sign of office. Still, it would have to be replaced soon. A primary benefit of the hood was that fewer people could see his face right now. He had traveled a long way down the lake-shore, but until he could get inland, he was less than safe. Who knows what agents could have trailed him here, and what they might do if they found him.

Telon was a rational man, and had no need of conspiracies in his life, but the series of events over the last couple weeks, culminating with a warrant for his arrest issued by his own Principal, would lead anyone to make some startling conclusions. That he could not go back to the Queen City, that much was certain. Some part of his research had ruffled the feathers of shady groups in the metro area, and without knowing more, a return north would be suicide.

The local college had been of some help, but had also introduced a host of new questions. While the dusty tomes he had scoured the previous two days confirmed his suspicion of shadowy controlling factors in the Queen City, they failed to be clear on the nature or reasoning behind these factors. There was something at the heart of the struggle for power, something beyond mere civil control. If there was a conspiracy to run things behind the scenes, then why Telon wondered, had his research become a target? The sources used mystical language and gave no clear answers.

For the past three years he had merely been cataloging features of the local landscape. His goal was to add to the existing knowledge of flora and fauna, details of the landscape in order to get a more cohesive picture of the environments in which people live. He also wanted to highlight any places that seemed special, whether from uniqueness, historical value, or just a sense of the atmosphere of the particular spot. Despite keeping excellent notes, and doing due diligence in the publishing proceedings, numerous issues kept arising that kept him from getting the research published. A manuscript was lost in the mail, a printing machine had failed just that morning, or the paper was not of the right stock, etc. Finally, he decided to self-publish the work as a casual guidebook on the metropolitan library network. It would get less notoriety, but at least the information could be shared. The next day an anonymous tip came just in time. He had only had enough time to gather some necessities and get around the corner from his apartment before the authorities were at his door. Most of his pocket money went to a captain at the beach, and a rather choppy boat ride had brought him, a few days later, to the College of the Silver Shores, where he had hoped to find some answers.

Now he sat here, in the bright midday sun of the market square, gazing out towards the open water of the lake and trying to put an order to his thoughts. Around him the bustle of the village's day went on. Rough-looking men moved freight up from the port and into tunnels in the rock that led to other docks down below by the water. Sages from the college conversed with students on broad grassy lawns on the side of the hill. Townsfolk of all kinds mingled about, either hurrying along one of the steep roads between the port and the hilltop, or browsing the market stalls in the square. The air was calm and pleasant; a gull cried here and there. Telon felt the wind shift slightly. The breeze seemed to gently urge him to put his cares aside. Whatever cabal sought his end, it was not in this place. He breathed deeply and removed his hood. As the fabric dropped, he noticed two figures enter the scene.

A father and daughter were walking across the square toward the metalworkers' stands. The daughter was almost a young woman, and carried a bookbag.. She must have just gotten out of her morning classes. The father was nodding and responding as they walked, evidently hearing something of her day. As they passed in front of where Telon sat, the father laughed, and the daughter pointed to a man talking some distance away with a group of portsmen. Now she had dashed over towards him, calling his name:

“Tormund! Hey Tormund!” she stopped abruptly when the object of her calls turned around. This man was more neatly dressed than the father, and clearly did not work at the craftsmens' stalls. His doublet featured a triangle-shaped badge that caught the light.

“Ayleah,” Tormund smiled, “and a good day to you as well.”

“I had just wondered, are you going to be going to be crossing the point soon?” Her father caught up and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Please forgive my daughter, this business with the ship has gotten her pretty excited.”

Tormund made a forgiving gesture. “It's fine, it's the same question I've been getting from everyone else in the village. The elders reckon I only need to make the case to the Park people, but I should leave as soon as possible.”

John nodded. “I hope they can resolve this. I would hate to see the matter taken into some metropolis court. I mean, we're all broken up about what happened, but sometimes such is the will of the land.”

“Yeah,” Tormund said, “that's the general sentiment...”

Their talk turned to other things, commerce of the week, the state of feuds, the College's response to it all...and Ayleah's attention wavered. She saw a bit of blue in the corner of her eye and turned to see a man in a blue robe sitting some distance off. His hair was trimmed short, and he was maybe a little younger than her father, but it was the robe that intrigued her. Sometimes the elders would wear robes, especially for special occasions. The only other people she had seen wearing robes were the college professors, and theirs were always clean and decorated with the symbols of their positions. This mans robe was plain, and dirty like he'd been hiking or sailing while wearing it. Despite its less than pristine state, the color shown through with an indomitable strength. A pure, deep blue like still water without a bottom. His eyes were a piercing gray, and she looked away as soon as she caught them.

“Okay Tormund, we'll let you be getting on.” her father's voice brought her back to the conversation, and she gave a nod: “Good luck on your trip Tormund.” The village marshal wished both of them well, and went on his way.

There was something Ayleah had wanted to ask her father, but she couldn't remember what it was now. John continued to lead the way into the market stalls. “Come on Ayleah, help me find something good for dinner. We'll be late for your afternoon classes if I start chatting again.”