There is a traveler wishing to speak to you. He awaits you upon the Rise.
It was a simple message, nothing more than a few seconds long and uttered with nothing but a simple significance. I sighed, gently laying the ruffled fabric upon the bench. It was stitched together from numerous hides, threads stretched taunt from the constant working. It was an odd form of relaxation, of sure, but any form was welcome upon these days. Placing it upon the wooden bench, I slowly gathered to my feet and slowly plodded out of the darkened room.
Asyvedr[1] stretched open in front of my eyes, the new city bustling with morning activity. The wide streets of the city were cramped with the dawn's progression, through it was still possible to swiftly navigate through them and towards the hills that lined the the rear of the city. Despite being founded upon the rather gentle, less sloping upper reaches of the chain, the city still had a generous view of the domineering mountains. It was a brisk walk, and a gentle hike, but soon enough I found the rise as instructed. What awaited me took my breath. I crossed a gentle stream, walking into a small clearing that was nestled in between a small series of hills. Aside from the stream that rested upon its lower side, a large apple tree occupied the most space.
He stood facing away from me, staring off into the steeping hills and yet I knew his figure from the instant I spotted him. He was little more than five feet tall, coming to shoulders against most men. He had a thick pallet of hair that was plastered to the top of his head, waves of wispy gray that were gently tied into a tail that hung behind head. He was dressed in the sable that was reserved for the mystics, conservative when compared to the new breed, yet still presenting a strong figure. He turned as I walked into the clearing further, and at once my thoughts were confirmed: twelve years may have passed, and yet he still had those crisp, green eyes. He laughed out loud as he spotted my entering figure, and at once rushed to embrace me. It was a joyous meeting.
My eyes fail me! I thought I would never see you mature! Yet here you stand today, in lieu of a skinny boy I find a man! He chuckled, gently pounding the recesses of my back with his balled fist. It is most good to see you, Rhayn. He stated, voice dipping slightly. We parted, and the old man dipped at his eyes.
It is most good to see you, Teacher. I replied honestly, a foolish smile plastered to my face. I hope your travels have been generous to you. The old man smiled again and nodded, gently stepping away from the banks of the stream towards the large apple tree. The old man had been so much more than a mentor, and simply seeing him return was more than a priceless gift.
Indeed they have. he gently fell to his knees, and slowly rocked back on them to place his back against the tree. A world I have seen, and a world I have spent. After these years it is most welcomed to be back home. He turned his roving eye back to me, and brought back up that wry smile. I trust you still have room in that complex of yours for an old sage?
Always. I nodded in agreement. How was the east?
He face soured considerably. It is a despair. Upon crossing the river, there was nothing but barbarians. he spat the word, a moment of anger upon his face. They are heathens. Idol-worshipers revealing in the primitive nature. He paused, giving me a strange look. I must find admit that I find it strange to be in the presence of a new Thorsrdyn. You look so much like your father, it's striking. He dug slightly at his eyes again, before bristling with energy again. So, my liege, what have you been up to lately? The words of your antics have greeted my return.
I snorted at the notion, and gave the old man a gentle shove. There is no news to report, old man- I awaited your divined guidance. The mood took a serious turn with the spoken line. The old man shook his head sadly, the smirk dropping from his face. He slowly climbed back to his feet, and reaching upwards plucked a ripen fruit from the tree.
You knew what you must do. A task as simple as this does not need my guidance. The Truth must be sheltered, and must be brought to prominence in all lands. Including those of the heathens.
I fear this. I looked up, meeting the old man with my eyes. How can I accept such actions without contributing to the suffering of others? I hear that Îgmâstca[3] is not that nice at this time of the year. I remarked, the slight form of a smirk born upon the edges of my mouth. The old man chuckled slightly, a wry smile matching my own.
You mistake the purpose of Îgmâstca if you simply associate it with punishment for suffering. He paused, tossing the loose apple from hand to hand. Is is a blessing to bring order and law to these barbarians. To associate punishment is to deny your calling. He raised the fruit and bit savagely into it, slight dribbling of juice running down the sides. It is in the matter of intent that you must be careful. Do you seek to cause misery, or do you seek to better your world?
I thought for a moment, watching as he slowly devoured the fruit. If I must do this, then I will do so out of a desire to improve our standing. I will do so to bring enlightenment to the vain and foolish. It was a true answer, I judged. A brief silence lapsed, as I watched the old man continue to slowly pick at the flesh of the fruit. He swallowed, the wry smile appearing on his face once more.
Rhidtath is not a bad choice, my friend. It is only the common taboo of the uneducated masses that lend the stigma to the force of Deconstruction. After all, must you not remove the bad in order to expand upon the good? I think you will do well to keep this in mind. He answered finally, finishing his apple. I take it that you know the differences between the Construction and Deconstruction well enough to come to the same conclusion with an open mind. Forget the stigma and be a ruler. The sharp comment forced the breath from my chest, but he continued onwards. You do not have the gift of being one of the uneducated mass, Rhayn. You do have the luxury of being a simple with no influence over the development of our world. You are instead tested with the authority of the Thorsrdyn resting upon your shoulders. You will be judged for your actions and will be weighed accordingly and none will forget your actions. You must be strong enough to accept this or you will never accomplish anything. The old man, finished with his apple, threw the core into the gentle water. A silence took over the clearing once more.
I watched as he gently reclined against the base of the tree, his words driving deep. I swallowed deeply, breath unstable but quietly returning. It is not a problem for you to claim this. Even you know not the decisions I must make. the words stumbled out, shaky in standing. I slunk down against the other side of the tree, not sure if I was able to stand any longer.
I give you that. There are none who will know this dilemma save for those who hold your position in the future. He nodded, reflection moving against the smooth surface of the spring. However, I stand by my words. Those who fear the repercussions never embrace the experiences. You must be capable of making a decision in order to enjoy its benefits.
And I suppose you consider Îgmâstca a proper reward? How can you justify punishment as a compensation for the tarnished that I will undertake? I stared at the man in amazement, stunned that he could ever consider that a reward.
Child, you mistake the nature of both the Rhidtath[4] and Îgmâstca. I asked that you leave the stigma of the uneducated behind and yet you continue to present this dribble to me. He rounded the tree suddenly, sorrow born high in his eyes. Ten years I have taught you and yet you continue to listen to those fools in my place. Have you learned nothing that I have taught?
I have learned it all and yet nothing you say makes any form of sense. Your words are those of a mystic and I take them as such. I defended, on edge from his provoking assaults. Make sense and I will accept them for more. It was a tense moment to say the least, both of us matching eyes in an intense visual struggle.
The old man chewed on his lip for only a moment before launching into another lengthly discussion. I thought I had taught this to you years ago, only to learn now that none of it has stuck. he shook his head sadly, as if the thought disgraced him. Since you seem determined to act a child, I will treat you as such. he stood back up and proceeded to the water's edge. A bare second passed before he whipped himself around, nostrils flared. Give me the nature of our existence. His eyes flared as I stumbled with the explanation, his patience tested. I want it now!
His words drew up seemingly unknown memories in my mind, lessons years old suddenly freshly ingrained. The nature of our existence is one of a byproduct of the natural forces of this Plane. I spurted off, the standard definition fully returned. The old man looked slightly relieved with this, the tension in his face slackened.
And the Alainti[5]? What composes our visions? Questions as old the first, yet still fully ingrained. No wonder the mystics seemed so fully consumed by the thought of memory- such a notion is confusing by nature. I returned the rapid0fire answer that he sought.
This spectrum is all that we see. It is the force of the Runn[6], the building factor that results in everything that has ever been or will ever be. There is the force of the Rhidtath, the factor that results in the removal of everything that has ever been or will ever be. Upon the position where these two meet, there is the Caghr, the balance that must be sought and achieved in order to have stability. If allowed to reign freely, either side will result in the dissolution and imbalance of our world. It is therefore that our Plane rests firmly upon the middle ground.
The tension in the man's face relaxed further, and in turn I relaxed slightly in return. He did not, however, cease with his lecturing. By nature, which is the more favorable force- Construction or Deconstruction?
As I opened my mouth, I paused, something tugging at the rear of my mind for some importance. A second passed and I let the thought pass without consideration. The Runn must be sought in prominence over its competitor, for the nature of our world promotes it over the counter. As soon as I uttered that line, I knew it was regrettable. His head snapped back, and mouth promptly dropped open with surprise. A second later, he snapped his mouth shut and those lines in his eyes flared back into prominence.
Repeat. He demanded, words spat. He flared again, seeing my hesitation, and made a sharp demand once more. I said repeat!
Like a child, I felt my face flush as I offered the line once again. We must seek the Runn over its counter in order to achieve a more stable and prosperous standing. If the world is lent to the right, then the world will begin to unravel. The man looked as if he was struck; a look of horror plastered on his face. He jerked his neck upwards, staring upwards at the sky as if conversing with an invisible entity.
You dare utter such a thing? he raged, stepping slightly into the gentle flow of water. I thought I had taught you better. Twelve years of absence has wiped your memory clean! You are insult to my standing! he spat, enraged plainly. I spent fourteen years educating you against the wishes of the masses, and yet I see that you have retained nothing! An insult! I sat there numbly, watching the man rage against the sky. He suddenly pivoted in his spot, eyes locking against my own. You are a disgrace. The words fell out, and he slowly limped across the flow and down towards the city, falling from view.
I sat there numbly, staring in his direction for some time after he left.
Notes:
[1] Asyvedr: The capital of the Avaimi, located upon the banks of the Ahm Enthur and towards the recess of the mountains. The name roughly means Realm of Laws.
[2] I'm generating that the area behind the city is a bit hilly.
[3] Îgmâstca: A purgatory-like existence after life, which is seen (mostly) as a punishment for those who are corrupt and deceitful. Not exactly seen in the same sense as 'hell', considering that Ytauzians believe in reincarnation for those who fail to surpass into the higher existence.
[4]Rhidtath- the force of Deconstruction, seen as the opposing force of the Runn. Associated more with death and decay, through heralded by some as the greater force.
[5]Alainti- The Spectrum of Existence.
[6]Runn: The force of Construction.
. Nice except for that annoying part.
