The Taker

Quinbi stood before the podium nervous and afraid. The government officials and news reporters waited impatiently for her to begin. She was the first Eldren this generation had seen.

The Eldren had once been of Elvish kind. Many ages ago, a small band of Elven split from the main group. They withdrew in protest of the values of the time, which they felt were corrupting Elvish moral fiber. These changed their name to Eldren, thereby renouncing their identity as Elvish, and relocated to the large island, Ta’ Bough. There they remained until this Eldren, Quinbi, washed up on the shores of Babylonia, terribly malnourished.

“I have come to plead for my kinfolk. We are in great peril.” Quinbi began sounding older and more confident than she actually was, “Our land has suffered a series of disastrous tragedies. The rains, which have been inadequate for years, have now stopped entirely. Crops have failed. These have been terribly lean years, but no worse than we have survived in the past. However, these days are unlike any other we have experienced.

A violence, with its instruments of death and torture, has settled upon our island. Its servants are the insurgents, a group of wild-minded Eldren who lust for power and the freedom to inflict suffering. They are vicious and without mercy.

In the course of their madness they have destroyed or poisoned the wells that have seen us through past lean years. In our land, there is only fighting and blood, no food or clean water. Still we struggle on, being a resilient, strong people. But we desperately need your help.”

She could clearly see those who occupied the seats of power weighing the benefits and costs of wading into a war-torn country teetering on the brink of famine. She felt failure nipping at her heels.

Desperation caused her voice to quiver, “Lack has been in our country for many years. It has slowly been building its strength; always it calls to the Taker. Now, he stalks our country. Hope is still present, though weak and fading. She keeps the Taker at bay.

Unfortunately, his twin daughters Give and Give have been besieging our land. They are a howling evil. The elder daughter consumes the physical strength of her victims, while the younger the mental and emotional health. When they have driven all Hope from the land, it will collapse. Then the Taker will have a legal right to invade.” She shuddered, “He consumes all life. It is a slow and horrible death.”

The room was silent; no one moved. Then the clock struck the hour and her speaking session was over. Everyone moved at once. A Sprite reporter yelled over the noise and confusion, “We will make your story known. Awareness can move mountains.”

A rock dropped in Quinbi’s stomach. She had failed.  

WOM

Four generations ago the WOM took stock of his extraordinary, long life. At that point in time, the affairs of the world were in good order, the wars between men and the battles with darkness were over. There was almost universal peace. So, without any fanfare, the WOM stepped out of the public eye and began retirement.

Deep in the wilderness of Annulus was an abandoned grotto. There he built his dream house, which contained a bulging library, his prize possession. He settled down, applying himself to rereading every volume.

His life was one of contented solitude for a very long time. Until a hungry plague awoke and consumed many lives spanning the planet. The dire need of Truth ignited a faint remembrance that there had once been a WOM, wise old man. They did not recall the valiant deeds in all the wars or his renowned wisdom as he led nations, but they had a vague notion that he could do the impossible.

The WOM was discovered in his comfortable chair lost in a book.

Presented with the problem he was able to analyze the plague and locate a cure. Soon it was repressed and forced to return to sleep. The fame of the WOM spread, as did his reputation for being unconventional and, frankly, slightly strange.

Once the crisis had passed the WOM was happy to remain in his comfortable grotto with his books for company, as well as the occasional visitor. They were always sick or had some kind of complaint and looked to the WOM for help. The WOM considered himself in partial retirement. 

The day Bello, the Giant, arrived that changed.

Bello suffered from a mysterious sickness. As all who come to him are, Bello was warmly received and thoroughly examined. The prescription entailed traveling deep into the wilderness, to the Hidden Valley. His cure would find him among the flowers.

Though greatly frustrated by the ridiculous instructions, he swallowed his annoyance and followed them. Butterfly-like creatures that lived in that valley swarmed him as he entered it. A huge hairy spider, previously unnoticed by Bello, jumped from the folds of his clothes. It tried to escape but the butterflies caught and killed it. Then they landed upon Bello. Painlessly they drew all the poison out of his body.

He returned to the WOM to excitedly recount what had happened. But was interrupted with urgent instructions to return to the valley. He was to transplant some of the flowers to his village. The Fallen, what Bello thought was a spider, is an old evil. They are usually unseen; they slowly fill their victim with poison- and they never travel alone. They are impossible to kill without the Honor, the creatures that look like butterflies.

Bello did as instructed. The Honor followed the flowers and killed the Fallen.

At the sight of the Fallen, the WOM knew he was embarking into a new season- post retirement. It was time to check on the condition of the world. 

New Food

Through all the days of lessons, Wisdom fed Maral always the same simple meal of bread. If Maral was completely honest… the bread was abrasive and strange when she first ate it. Knowing it wasn’t polite to mention it, she remained silent. Also, there was so much more to think about that she really didn’t have time to consider the food at any length.

Over time, she became used to Wisdom’s fare. When she found herself actually enjoying it and looking forward to meals times, she asked Wisdom about the bread.

Wisdom explained, “It is an especially odd bread. Though at times it may be bitter and others sweet, you are to always eat it all. It will become part of your make up.

This bread contains many mysterious, wonderful benefits. It will make you physically stronger and more flexible. It contains properties that can enhance your sight to see things clearly and improve your hearing to penetrate to the heart of issues.

If you consume enough of this bread, it can shape and mold your shoulders to be able to carry large amounts of weight yet;  be soft enough to welcome a long cry. Your hands will become gentle, strong, and able. It can even give you a firm resolve to always help others in need. And by this, your thoughts will be taken off yourself. Your life will become one of rich quality and worthy of great things and mighty deeds.”

Wisdom smiled; as she spoke, Maral had been taking larger bites from the slice of bread she had been given. Wisdom knew this slice contained much bran, which made it a challenge to get through with enjoyment. Wisdom’s heart melted a little more at Maral’s sincere soul. 

She continued with a caution, “Whenever you stop eating this bread, the strengths and abilities gained from it will begin to fade. At times, you will be tempted to combine it with other foods- or even just add a few ingredients from other sources, but it will dilute the power and become ineffective. Beware, there are many imposters but you will now know the difference. You have tasted the authentic bread.

It takes time and effort when you first chew this bread to develop a taste for it. The more you eat, the more your appetite for it will increase.”

Maral smiled and took another huge bite. 

New Skills

Maral loved Wisdom. It was marvelous not to be alone. There was a great comfort in knowing she didn’t have to stumble around trying to figure everything out on her own.

At first, Maral dominated the conversation. She rambled at length about herself, her successes, her failures, her fears, her hopes, and her concerns. Wisdom patiently listened to it all, knowing that with all seekers, it’s hard to begin learning to utilize the necessary skills of waiting and listening.

It took a few days for Maral to notice she hadn’t given Wisdom an opportunity to speak. Maral found silence difficult in the presence of Wisdom. Though she would try to wait on Wisdom, she would find herself again breaking the stillness. When she spoke hesitantly and looked sheepishly at her, Wisdom knew she was on the brink of understanding. Wisdom remained silent, allowing Maral to stretch her new-found skills.

Wisdom applied her best efforts toward not looking amused as she watched Maral squirm, working hard to develop the ability to wait. Each day she was able to stretch farther until her ability to wait had matured to the desired length.

At that point, Maral had achieved the ability to listen and understand that which Wisdom had to share. Wisdom began by revealing smalls truths, and with this, Maral’s worldview began to expand. Missing links in understanding were being filled in; while other firm facts she had believed all her life were exploding before her.

Wisdom was pleased to see Maral was like a sponge soaking up all the information given to her. When confused, Maral would ask thoughtful questions until she grasped the concept. She quickly advanced in her basic understanding of the ways of Wisdom. When she reached a concept that was contradictory to the way she was raised, she would take an appropriate about of time to process it. This allowed her to come to a true understanding rather than either quickly dismissing the notion or blindly accepting it.

She didn’t have mastery over all the topics but enough to move on.

Wisdom moved on to deeper topics. She instructed Maral in the ways of the strange fire. This was a topic Maral greedily listened to. When the day’s lessons would come to an end, Maral would badger Wisdom to reveal more. Wisdom knew this information needed time to digest and would refuse further instruction that day.

This was a wonderful season of growing and learning. The days were sunny and the troubles were few.

Unmarked Seeds Part Two

Ida examined the small packet. She felt she should follow the elder’s advice but she didn’t. The elders were of the wisest in the village but were at times considered by some as being narrow minded and overly cautious. After all, the history books had been terribly vague; perhaps these seeds held something wonderful.

Holding the packet felt exciting and wild. Her mind wondered over the course of her life; thus far it had been predictable and rather dull. These seeds held the promise of mystery and adventure.

They began to emanate a tantalizing smell; impulsively, she planted just one seed from the packet. Once done fear started screaming in her ear. This was forbidden, she could be found out. She ran to the lip of the Yar and threw it in, but as she held out the packet she couldn’t force herself to let go- and she didn’t.

In the days that followed, she would struggle with, and eventually cave, to the temptation to plant another seed. Always either fear of being discovered or guilt from disobedience, would force her to the Yar to get rid of that which was forbidden. Each time, however, she waited a little longer before disposing it. Slowly, the guilt was being silenced.

At this point, she thought she hadn’t done any harm; however, unbeknownst to her, the pollen from each sprouted plant had a seed-like quality. This substance spread into the neighboring woods. There an entire forest of forbidden plants was thriving, completely undetected.

When she only had a few seeds left, she determined that these would not be thrown away. They swiftly grew enormous.

As the time drew near for the plants to bloom, she wanted to bring someone else into her secret. Though completely resolved in her course, she was a little afraid of the unknown. After all this time, she was still a little afraid. After careful consideration, she chose her oldest friend, Amelia.

When Amelia entered Ida’s house and saw the huge, strange plants her first impulse was to run knowing this was wrong. But, the pleas of Ida to stay… and her own secret desire to discover why these plants were forbidden, kept her there.

The large buds began to open. The first thing that Ida’s mind processed was that the delightful smell she had enjoyed for so long, had turned rancid. Dread filled her. She tried to uproot the plants- but it was too late.

The blooms exploded releasing large, iron brambles, tightly packed thorny vines. They were alive and breathed.

Terrified, Amelia ran screaming from the house, the brambles pursued her into the open of the village. Shrieks from all the neighbors could be heard as they encountered the horrible objects.

Shocked, Ida looked at the destruction and chaos she had introduced to her village. Now, she saw how ignorant and foolish it had been to think what she was doing would not affect anyone else. The guilt and shame of knowing that she  had welcomed this madness, nurtured, and then released it, began to suffocate her. She wept.

Unmarked Seeds Part One

The peace of the small Sprite village, High Top, began to deteriorate the day the Grimlak arrived. Grimlakin, also known as children of Chaos, are sly, dark little creatures. Hard to spot, but easy to see by their aftermath of mayhem and destruction.

This Grimlak tailored its mischief especially to the Sprite’s love for all things that grow- it left packets of unmarked seeds.

The villagers who discovered these packets considered it extremely odd that they weren’t labeled- and that they came from who-knows-where. Though they wanted to plant them, they instead were brought the packets to the elders.

The elders, known for their cautious restraint, consulted the history books at length. They held tightly to the belief that all mysteries could be solved by referring to the past. In this case they were proven correct for among the dusty volumes was discovered a heavily faded chronicle describing a similar circumstance with mysterious seeds. Planting them was expressly forbidden, but the reason for this had been blotted out by moisture and time.

Guided by this information, the packets of seeds were thrown into the Yar, a massive chasm located south of town.

Daily, packets were discovered; daily, they were disposed of. The offended Grimlak decided to move on- after one last attempt. He targeted Ida with the last packet.

The Grimlak noticed this young Sprite appeared to have many acquaintances, but no close friends. She had no love interest, no hobbies, did nothing extraordinary. Ida was ordinary.

When she noticed the packet of seeds; she quickly picked them up and hid them. His success thus secured, the Grimlak left High Top.

To be continued…

Wisdom Found

Maral knew it was her. Wisdom was standing on the rise of a hill looking out on the horizon. Wisdom did not look extraordinarily beautiful as Maral had imagined but neither did she look common place. She was ageless, not old but certainly not young. There was a completeness about her that both drew and repelled Maral, who felt flawed and broken by comparison.

When Wisdom turned and looked at her, Maral felt her destiny change.

Wisdom had been standing on the hill thinking about this generation with a heavy heart. It had been such a long, long time since there had been a seeker. As she had always done and would always do, she walked her path and did her work, but there was a resistance from this generation that made her weary.

Turning, she noticed the young Gnomish girl watching her from the bottom of the hill. It was unmistakable- the girl could see her. The girl’s appearance communicated that she was a wondering wayfarer. In fact, she was a mess, covered in the dirt from the road. Her forehead glistened with sweat. Her hair was disheveled; her cloths stained and torn. Her left ankle was wrapped in dirty bandages.

Weariness began to slip off Wisdom’s shoulders and tears filled her eyes as she watched this girl draw near. With each step the girl took, Wisdom could see her more clearly. She had experienced many troubles. She had been touched by Grace and Mercy. She had been in the presents of the strange fire. Lastly, Wisdom studied her eyes. This girl had fire inside her.

Wisdom knew this girl had the potential to change the world.

Maral stood before Wisdom uncertain and nervous. All she had thought about for so many miles was finding Wisdom, now that she had she didn’t know what to do. Wisdom smiled, transforming her countenance from one of sober study to friendly welcome.

Maral felt herself relax, “I was told to find you; I’m Maral..”.

“I am very glad to meet you. There is much to do. Come,” Wisdom led Maral along the path, thus began a new phase in Maral’s adventure.

Exposed

There is a small Fairy village somewhere in the middle of Annulus. Though not its proper name, most refer to it simply as Village Perfect. The weather seemed to always be pleasant. The homes and building were ideal. The Fairies that resided in this village were both brilliant and beautiful. Most of all, however, it appeared to be a perfect community comprised of perfect families, filled with perfect individuals.

When Wisdom entered this village, she saw the sad reality. It was a decaying town filled with rotting bones, broken hearts, stress, anger and some despair. All of which was expertly hidden behind the masks of dignity the inhabitants clung to so tightly.

Wisdom’s heart broke when she saw their suffering. Knowing they didn’t have the ability to see her yet motivated by a desire to help, she called to the inhabitants. The fresh breeze of Wisdom’s breath stirred up the stench of their inner decomposing flesh.

This unpleasantness was avoided as much as possible. The Fairies found they could somewhat numb their senses by refusing to acknowledge they could hear her. She was persistent but they proved too stubborn.

She couldn’t abandon them in that state. Therefore, early one evening, she called for a great storm. She spoke using the thunder for magnification; they could not but hear her. She pronounced a blessing of revelation over them, followed by a caution that this method would be abrasive. Lastly, she told them to be brave; to hold tightly to freedom while releasing pride.

Sleep visited no one that long night. In the morning, a strong westerly wind blew in. From the heights of the roof tops, with a clear voice it began to reveal all things hidden. All the words spoken in whispers in the dark, all the secret practices, and all the hidden habits.  

Shame and shock drove everyone out of their homes. They gathered in the center of their perfect village. All in pajamas, teeth unbrushed and hair in crazy disarray- as exposed and vulnerable as is appropriate to be in public. In silence they listened, mortified.

“Nothing left hidden; nothing held back. What had power over you in the darkness is broken in the light. The healing process may begin. The exhaustion of holding up the facade of dignity can come to an end. Be kind to one another in the days of healing and restoration. Listen to Wisdom. Joy and peace will follow shortly.” With those final words the strong wind dissolved.

A few townspeople left unwilling to deal with their exposed self. However, most stayed, relieved to be able to lay down their heavy secrets and begin to heal from the painful decay.

Though they couldn’t see her and could only hear her voice faintly, Wisdom was there. She gently navigated the Fairies through the difficult times. Through much effort and many tears, they forgave what needed to be forgiven and helped those that needed help. They were again able to breathe the fresh air without the pressure of guilt and fear pressing upon their chest.

They grew healthy and happy.

Temptation

Powered by a renewed determination to find Wisdom, Maral made up for lost time. As she traveled, she practiced the eternal language, no longer self-conscious about this unusual gift. She became comfortable with the unknowable.

After many peaceful days, she came across an abandoned traveler’s pack. She wanted to ignore it but the sight of the disregarded pack troubled her. She resolved to look for the one who left it. After a short search, she found a Gnomish man being led away by a terrible looking Witch.

Without a thought or a plan, Maral ran yelling for them to stop. To her surprise the Witch shrank in fear of her, while the Gnome, Efren, stepped forward in a protective stance. He did this without releasing the hand of the Witch.  

Efren commanded Maral to stop. His mind was trying to process the oddity of this young Gnome being a threat but obviously his Love was afraid of this girl. He turned to reassure her. She has many names but the most common is Itch.

“You want to go with her? Don’t you know where this Witch is taking you!” Maral asked stepping back in disgust and shock.

“Witch! Are you mad? Leave us alone!” He turned to Itch, her face, beautiful to him, wore an expression of confusion and hurt. “She is clearly not well. Please ignore her, darling.”

Maral watched them walk away. The memories of those she wasn’t able to help propelled her onward. “Wait!” She yelled.  

Itch pulled Efren’s hand and would have run away, but he stood his ground and faced Maral. Itch released her hold on his hand to get some space between herself and Maral. She could see what Efren couldn’t, the power that was within Maral. She wanted to avoid all proximity to it. If she lost this victim she could easily find another. After all, she was temptation and she was excellent at it.

Maral spoke a poem in the eternal language. The strange fire swirled and flowed on the words toward dumbfounded Gnome. It twisted and spun around his head. He vainly tried to bat it away. It was not painful, only uncomfortable and disturbing. He looked through the fire searching for her, his Love. He felt strange and exposed without her hand in his.

He saw Itch some distance away. Her beauty and elegance began to melt until she was completely transformed. Once Itch’s disguise was gone the fire faded and disappeared. He dropped to his knees, gone was his Love- now the true and terrible form was exposed. He felt sick, but he was also aware that something deep inside him still wanted her- or at least the satisfaction that had come from her.

Maral approached and placed a hand upon his shoulder. “It’s ok, you escaped in time.”

He stood and roughly pushed her away. “What have you done?! Where is she?”

Hope rose in Itch’s heart as she witnessed her victim mistreat his would-be rescuer. She winked causing a small hole to appear behind Maral. In she stepped while trying to recover from Efren’s push and twisted her ankle.

With pain shooting from her ankle, Maral said, “She has always been what she now is.”

“Efren,” Itch called his name. Though everything else had changed, her voice was the same.

Her voice can be enough he thought. But when he looked at her his soul trembled. Itch approached him and held out her hand.

His choice was before him; the battle raged. His mind screamed for him to escape but his willpower was weak. He might be strong enough to leave. Yes, this was the moment of for him to extricate himself from this thing that was not right. But, he paused and, again she called his name.

It was too much. He believed he needed his temptation; he could not let her. The feel of her hand was that of someone dead. Sadly, he walked hand and hand toward death.

Coping

Maral walked aimlessly, the memory of the old Dwarf was chained to her. Her mind required her to drag the heavy burden along. This was partially because his death was so graphic but mostly because of the slime. When she had touched him, the slime that had covered his body clung to her hands. She had tried to remove it but nothing worked.

Reasonable or not, she blamed herself for the Dwarf’s death. Had she tried harder, been stronger, and wiser- she believed she could have gotten through to him.

All thoughts about finding Wisdom and the ultimate goal of the city were lost and forgotten. She didn’t eat or rest. The hunger burning in her stomach gave her mind something to process that wasn’t the memory or the guilt. It became a welcomed distraction.

On her hands the slime began to thicken and became pungent. The slime was calling to a new Despair.  A small, red snake responded to the call buy cautiously approaching. It was known that this, seemingly powerless, Gnomish girl had somehow destroyed a fully-grown Despair.

Though she saw it, Maral neither paused her progress nor quickened her step. Her small Despair breathed a sigh of relief and followed. It began what it was trained to do, commiserate. When she heard the voice of Despair in her own ear, it woke her from her daze. In a moment, the fog in her mind cleared, strength and alertness returned. As with the Dwarf’s Despair she unleashed a powerful stream of flame upon this small one. It was instantly consumed.

The strange fire continued to burn. She missed the fire-dwelling days of her past. Dropping her pack, she stepped into the blaze. It welcomed and comforted her. Wearily she lay down in this safe, warm place and fell asleep. She dreamed many dreams.

The first was of a tiny seed being planted by the Unseen hand. As time never obeys the laws of logic in dreams, this seed quickly grew and spread into a massive forest. She recognized it as her homeland. It continued to grow beyond what she recognized. It grew wild and beautiful.

The next dream was Ambiguberg. It started as a small village but grew into the major metropolis from which she had just escaped. Then it began to deteriorate and crumble into an ancient ruin.

The next dream was of a newly born baby. He grew swiftly into childhood, then adulthood, followed by old age. After a satisfying life, finally he laid down and turned into dust.

Then last dream was of the unknown city which she had been hunting. This city did not have a beginning. Unlike everything else it was unchanging, consistent. It had been and always would be just what it was, marvelous. As you do in dreams, Maral understood a truth, by just knowing it. The unknown city is the Everlasting City. 

She awoke refreshed, with an untroubled heart. The mental and emotional burden was gone. The slime had melted in the heat. Her focus and passion returned. It was to the Everlasting City for her and for all who would join in the hunt. It was calling; she could hear it.