An eve turns a day turns an eve

It is queer I think that this journey south I take would would make my skin tingle with night's cool breath. This fire that dances before me is again my security and my warmth. I stretch out my hands and feel the touch of life itself. Fire is life; and death. I bask within its glow and feel the moisture bubble across my face. Should I not be warm in these southern reaches even as the night calls to me?

I look skyward into the blackness of the heavens. The lights of the firmament seem to shimmer against their curtain. Do they have a purpose? Do I have a purpose? I look down again as a spark flees its prison, the pop of wood rising above the quiet crackle as my sticks surrender to their fate. It is their purpose to give me light and safety this night.

The daylight hours which guide my steps have begun to lessen in their wonderment. Those vistas that excited even in my dreams no longer tantalize. They mesh one into another as each day is stitched to the next. Even my nighttime dreams are stilted. They seem as desolate at the firmament.

I look ahead past the fire's light and know the path that I will walk this next morn. To my right the Sirris no longer beckons. My day passes to eve and once again since my departure from Authurn. He has a purpose in these lands. Perhaps I shall find my own in the coming days.

Perhaps.

A day after

A day has passed since Authurn and I have parted company. This second sun begins to bring new life to my heart. As I pass one foot before the other I begin to feel more like myself, at least the self I have begun to know since I have left the confines of the Middle Valley. I feel the new warmth upon my shoulder, life's light from the east calling the world from the depths of its slumber. My confidence in the world around me is slowly returning as I struggle to shake the memories of my capture.

I look out now across the barren landscape and view the changing landscape as wild grasses and weeds, stunted wildflowers and awkward bare patches of soil have slowly taken the place of lusher fields across the edge of the Far Wilderness. I know this place only by the tales told within the Chrystum, though how those tales have come to be is a mystery. Few if any of a Sheima clan have walked its depths that these tales could be told. I as well have only now cast my first glances at its edges.

The Far Wilderness is a place in name only to most. I feel its call as I stop, my face turning fully unto the rising sun. I am bathed in its warmth now fully as I feel its heat wrap my soul. Perhaps this is my calling, my next step away from the Sirris. I look over my shoulder to spy the mountains that surround my homeland. I would likely be a third of the way down into the Dream Valley, the lowest of the lands within the Chrystum. Yet, without a familiar marker, I may only guess at my progress. I turn and look again over the plains tinged with fading orange from the dawn.

South. My journey takes me south. Perhaps one day it will take be to meet the rising sun, but it shall not be this day.

Dancing flames

This night I find myself restless, the crackling fires that keep us warm are that which soothes my thoughts. Yet, it is not enough as my mind meanders through these past hours, these hours that were my indignant torture. The flames dance before my weary eyes as I lay upon the dampness of the cool earth.

My eye falls to my savior, this man-folk, this Authurn. He has let this night pass seemingly without thought and is held tightly within his nights dreams. He seems undisturbed. Would that I had the strength of his metal to face this world I know nothing about. This episode has proven that I am not destined for a life of adventure. My journey is surely a folly to be played out for all the world to see.

The burning of my chest causes me to exhale and my sight falls away to the night, but it is useless as the flames again call them home. My savior rests easily though he has fought a tremendous battle this day. His hand is steady and strong while my fingers quiver beneath the weight of a simple farmer's knife. My breast suffers the weight of this day as I feel the fear that lingers within my soul.

The creatures of the night sing their songs yet retreat from the dancing light. It is not their world. Theirs is one of darkness beneath a lesser sky, much like that of my captors. My sight wanders to the darkness held between the trees which shelter us this night. Darkness is not the world I tread, yet I shall be doomed to walk its paths for a time. My journey is not yet over.

My vision fades as the flames dance, my shield against the darkness this night.

Alcove

The day wears on, the sun adrift above the clouds. Gloom has moved across the peaks of the Sirris and reached down to touch the canopy with a light finger. Though I sense no coming rainfall, we retreat to the safety of the mountain walls and slip within a fissure.

We have moved from the opening where once I faced death, staring into its eye. I measure myself against myself as I have none other to reflect upon. I steal a glimpse at my savior as the low fire basks upon his chiseled face. He is a hunter, of that I have no doubt. My hope of travel quail before his life. He has walked the trails of the world where I have walked none but a path from my back yard.

"What troubles you, Clancy?

The silence hangs between us as I stare into the ground. I feel the coolness of the rocks as they surround us. I look up as my benefactor comforts me with his words.

"My day has been unsettling, my friend. I feel the foils of my folly rolling within my stomach."

"I see." I watch as he leans back, resting his hands upon his lap. "You are troubled by what happened to you today."

"I am." It is a statement he makes. "I would be dead had it not been for you."

"Would I have suffered any less fate than you?"

"Well, you may have been able to..."

"To what?" A smile broadens in the light. "You were one against five. You were surprised. Had I been caught unawares, I would likely have suffered the same."

"But you killed them all!"

"Only because they did not know of me. It is surprise that was my ally, and the light of the day."

"What of it?"

"They are creatures of the night. They prefer to walk in subtle tones of night. They do not fear the day, but it is not their friend."

"You seem to know much of these creatures." The churning I feel begins to lessen as we talk. "Why is that."

"I do." My savior rises, dusting off his pants before the fire. He stands tall before me, a serious look suddenly upon his face. "Because I hunt them."

My soul shakes at his words. What has become of my friend? What would turn his life to such ends? I can only guess. The flames crackle as night begins to take hold of the mountains, daylight snuffed as were the lives of my captors.

It is time to sleep.

A light of life

At the moment of my freedom, the sun blazes through the sun-swept canopy above. It is as a sign of deliverance, and I am free once more. My hand releases the rod that was to be my savior, letting it fall to the ground. The voice that once I heard, I hear again, in time of my greatest need.

"You seem to have a penchant for getting in trouble, Clancy."

I nod, as the expression of my gratitude shines through. Not once, but twice have I been the benefactor of such good fortune.

"Authurn." His name is all that I can offer as my body begins to shake. My courage is leaving me in the face of my savior. My breath is heavy as my knees land in the moist earth, my head falling toward my chest. I lift my face to warm it in the light of day.

"Clancy, it is over."

He strides toward me, standing tall in the light of day. Sunlight beams over his shoulder, his shadow casting its pall upon me, but it is a blanket of salvation that lifts my soul. I can do nothing but smile in relief.

"You have come to my aid in times past, my friend. That I could call you friend, if I could be so bold."

His booming laugh echoes across the clearing, yet another dagger in the backs of my enemies. His hand comes to rest upon my shoulder, and I feel the power of his touch. His face is alight as the sun itself. His is a soul of joy, even in this time of death.

"We shall be friends from this day forward, Clancy." He chuckles at the notion. "It seems we come together at the most opportune times."

"Opportune for me, that is."

"Be that as it may, it is a beautiful day and we shall make the best of it."

A helping hand raises not only my body from the damp ground, but lifts my soul in reverie. I shall live to walk the world, another day.

Dark to light

My legs begin to strengthen as does my will. My pack and belongings having been strewn about, hide my weapon from my eyes. A stout log lays near my side and it is quickly within my grasp. Though I tremble within, I do not taste the fear I would have imagined when I began this adventure. Be it only a few weeks, I have begun to rely on myself and face those shadows that fade within the light of day. I shall not run. I shall fight. The log I raise with which to do battle shall be my sword. It shall be my rod.

The sound of footsteps echo from the dark place where my captors have taken refuge from the light, the screams of death and torment now silent. My savior has surely not suppressed them all. They are too many. He has likely fallen and I shall face their retribution as a result. A stampede erupts as a black creature scampers from cover. His eyes are wide as if death hunts his soul, should such creatures be in possession of one. He bores down on me, and I ready my rod. Vengeance shall be mine.

As I ready my thrust, my enemy falls to the dirt, his weight flushing out the leaves that litter the ground. My eyes are wide, my heart a symphony of percussion. I am dumbstruck as I see this lifeless corpse face-down in the muck. My lungs exhale violently as the threat is taken from me. Another shuffle grabs my attention and I look up to see my savior strutting from the dark hole, a smile washed across his face as wide as the Orange River.

"Hello." His voice booms across the clearing, no filter to mask his presence.

My mood brightens as I see who walks before me. It shall be a good day, today.

Release

The sun has climbed to its zenith as I remain encumbered, my back snug against this oak. I feel its bite, my back nearly raw from the turns I have spent within its grasp. My captors have retreated to as dark a place as they are able to manage. It is obvious they do not suffer well the light of day. I have relented in trying to observe them further as they have settled into their night world. I sit now with the light of day to do nothing more than ponder my fate, certainly a prospect that appears bleak.

I hear a dull thump and feel a shallow vibration through the massive trunk. My shoulders fall slightly, no longer pulled tightly behind. A whisper floats upon the stillness, a calmness that awakens my spirit.

"Now stay still for a moment, my friend. I have work yet to do." The voice is as calm as a summer's breeze among the leaves.

I pull my arms forward, my shoulders screaming in agony as a blade slices though my bindings. My feet now free allow me to slide my legs forward. They as well, feel the sting of atrophy. I am free. My mind races to cover the ground away from my captors, yet my legs are not to the task. I remain beneath the shade of the oak, afraid. A single step I hear as my champion retreats into the background, lost to me in the light of day.

I turn abruptly toward the hollow where my captors have taken refuge. The sounds of death have awakened them. But whose death shall follow? I struggle to my feet and shake the weariness from my bones. I will not go down without a fight. Of this I vow, yet my mind screams the obvious; run!

My captor's face

The light in the sky begins to awaken the world around us, even here in the depths of the wilderness. My captors do not seem to embrace the coming of the day as do I. They have moved away from the dying embers and seek shelter in the coves of the nearest hillside, while I remain strapped to this pillar.

As the light rises, they move deeper into the recesses. Perhaps this day has become my savior. I work to study them in their plight. It is something I may be able to use against them. In night's depth they were no more than silhouettes against the background, yet in the light of day, my nightmares have surely come true. 'The talker', as I have come to think of him surely is the leader. He is taller and broader than three others,. though another is near his bulk, but quiet. His hand has sent another cowering. Their forms covered with dark wraps, make it difficult to distinguish their true nature, though I can sense the darkness of their souls.

My captors have quieted as the sun tops the fields to the east. I have come to believe they are creatures of the night airs; those creatures that invade the dreams of the pure of heart. They are nightmares; devils once of spirit, now embodied before my eyes. It is my unlucky fortune that I have stumbled across their path.

I kick again against the dirt to prop myself up against the tree. My legs tied like a pig, I can not stand; I can not run. Their voices fade as their world comes to their night, a night of daylight, and I am still a prisoner.

Captive

My head stings, my neck stiff as I awaken to what is before me. I have been asleep for a time, my fire not what it was, as I hear the embers failing. I reach to rub my neck but find my hands tied, my ankles strapped beneath me. I look up, the pain in the back of my neck screaming as winds through mountain passes. The sky lightens to the east; it is that time before dawn when the world has not yet fully awakened.

The tree behind me stabs my spine as I push against it to adjust my back. My knees ache. I push against the dirt with my legs to straighten myself. It is of little use. My eyes sting as the salty sweat drips over my brow. I am a prisoner.

The flames that warmed me, are now no more than an orange glow before silhouettes as dark as the blackest night. The sounds of dawn begin to trickle into my ears, yet are interrupted by the guttural sounds of my captors. Five I see, squatted before the fire, their voices like claws scraping against stone. Most of their words sound foreign, though the more I strain to listen, the more I begin to understand their gravel. They seem not to care that I am here, their attentions focused elsewhere.

Someone is killing them; tracking them. Their number was once greater. They were seven. A laugh from the tallest makes light of it. My eyes widen as I come to realize I have become the object of their desire. They believe they have captured their hunter. Should they realize I have awakened, my time shall surely grow shorter upon this world and my adventure shall come to an end.

I close my eyes that I should live a little longer.

Eyes of twilight

The light of the fire illuminates all within its grasp, except my foe. His darkness nearly absorbs the light itself. He is blacker than anyone I have seen in all my days. He steps forward, a wicked smile upon his dark face. Again his words rake across my ears, their sounds, gutteral.

"You should not be here."

His words spit at me from across the distance, yet I hold firm my ground. I take my eyes not from him as stumbling sounds assault me from behind. I am surrounded. I fight the urge to look, to turn, but I cringe at the thought of turning away from what is before me. My blade though sharp, feels no more than a toy within my grasp. His blade is one that is true.

"My travels are my business." I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly as parched as a desert flower. My skin floods with perspiration, raining, as if I were standing before a hundred such fires, yet I muster the courage to respond. "I will go where I will."I straighten, that I would stand as tall as I am able.


A sudden snap, the sound of cracking brambles makes its presence known above the snapping of the flames, and I am forced to turn. My circle is dwindling, the light failing in the gathering darkness. I raise my blade to challenge the new, but twilight stills my eyes as I fall to a blow upon my neck and I am thrust, into nothingness.

A dark blade

The snarling voice I hear behind me is almost unrecognizable as words. I spin quickly, bringing my dagger up. I hear a boisterous laugh as my fingers tighten about my blade's hilt. Would that I now have taken a proper sword on this adventure. What now stands before me, I have never seen the like.

"Leave this place," I challenge. I feel the heat from the embers upon my leg as I stand firm beside the flames. My senses are exploding at the visceral emotions welling up within. Again a guttural laugh replies to my words.

"You are alone in this darkness."

I struggle to understand the words spat at me. It is a voice that sounds like rocks tumbling down a hill during a thunderstorm. Never before has my skin crawled with fear as it does now. I feel the sweat boiling from my pores, soaking my clothing from beneath. My hand is so tight around my blade, I feel my fingertips may rupture.

I step back again as he raises his blade. His form nearly doubles my height, though he is slender, nearly wraith-like, yet I do not doubt his manner. He is dark and foreboding, the dancing light giving subtle definitions to his shape. I step back yet again as he steps forward, the blade he wields dark, even by the fire's glow.

"You should not be here," the voice crackles. "This is my place."

"I shall go where I go." I am surprised by my sudden surge of vigor in the face of the unknown, before darkness that tests my nerve. My feet step forward without my consent, refuting the intimidation that crawls upon me.

Another laugh from the darkness presses my ear. We are not alone, yet perhaps, I am.

Boredom

It is with heart, a lustful look forward that any adventure we wish to undertake begins. I remember that first day that I decided to ultimately pursue this adventure, this quest into the unknown. I was giddy with anticipation. In that moment, that instant of time, the world outside my walls filled with all that I could imagine, all that I could dream. My plans then began in earnest to walk from these valleys into a world I could only imagine.

Unfortunately, I have come to find that most of my adventure is cloaked in boredom. I had dreams of vistas unseen that stretched to horizons untrod for years. What I do now after weeks of this journey is walk in the shadows of the same mountains that kept me prisoner. My eyes endlessly search for new frontiers, but I am alone with my thoughts. Come the rising of the sun, I my heart soars with the endless possibilities that may unfold with the new day. Yet, come the failing of the light behind the distant mountains, I am once again disappointed. The night acts as a cover that stills my dreams and snuffs them out as a candle beneath a wet, wool blanket.

The flames of the fire begin to die before me as night takes hold of the surrounding world. Though the sounds of light no longer linger in my ears, those that inhabit the night begin to make their presence known. I prod the embers with my stick, the warmth bathing me as my back begins to tense. I feel a presence, a presence that should not be here. I swallow hard as my throat becomes parched. I feel the lump therein as my skin begins to crawl, the hair standing on end. As my hand falls to my weapon, I know this shall not be a quiet night.

A sense of renewal

The morning passes quickly as my walk has taken me across rolling fields of nature's bounty along the foothills of my prison. But, to look upon these bars from the outside is a different feeling altogether. In the days gone by of my youth they were no more than an adventure to one-day explore. But to the life that I had come to live, these mountains became my prison, a barrier to what was beyond.

It is the sneaky passage of time that has hemmed in my world. The glorious days of youth are carefree and playful. As time marches on and childhood fades to ages of companionship, the work of a day begins to take hold. The times spent running through potato patches are replaced by the struggles of chores that need doin'. Dreams of adventure fade to those moments that are held in the twilight of the day and then all at once, are gone. Only ones dreams then hold the promise of a far-away land. And then, even those thoughts buried within our nightly conscious are stolen away.

I look skyward as the sun falls upon my face and washes these thoughts away. I bask in the warmth of light, and thoughts of a new world now open; a world filled with all the adventures my youthful self could imagine. The line of the Sirris marches on. To what end shall they take me? I have only to place one foot in front of the other to find my way.

Direction

My morning awakens as the sun again begins its journey above the horizon. My night was wrapped in solitude as I quickly realized how alone I have been on this short journey. Only a few weeks out and I now understand the value of companionship. Though I have always lived alone, there was naught for lack of conversation, always a neighbor or friend at the ready. A casual conversation by the fire was a pleasant reminder of my life. It is, however, the reason I began this journey in the first place, as that was the substance of my life.

 I look above as the light of day is humbled by the mists that snake their way through the high passes of the Sirris. I feel the warmth of the coming day upon my shoulders and know I shall bathe in warmer nights as I move south and near the end of the Dream Valley. But for now, the mornings are alive still with a gentle embrace of cold, all the more necessary that I awake with a warm breakfast. The fire ebbs low as the small amount of fat that remains crackles in the pan above the dieing flames. My luck was with me this morning as I trained my weapon upon a hare, feeling the recoil as my arrow takes flight. As I have practiced little; luck was my aim this day.

I slide my cooking pan back into my pack and take stock of my belongings, thankful for the handful of eggs from Clarisa. They have made my breakfast complete and renewed my legs for the journey ahead. Three now have I crossed paths with, and I am the better for all. It is now that I begin to wonder not only what I shall come across in this journey, but who.

As I hike my pack upon my shoulders, my eyes follow the line of the Sirris as the mountains march toward the south. That is my direction, toward the end of their line.

Far Wilderness

My day of excitement draws to a close, a rather mundane experience as it turns out. The world of night settles in against the Sirris, my back up against the mountains as my view extends yet again across the fields and plains of the Far Wilderness. An interesting name, my people have given this. It is said long ago when Sheimas came to these lands, these three valleys they now call home, they could have chosen a different path. The valleys of the Chrystum were nurturing and protective, their spires sentinels against the outside world. The view from atop the tallest of the tall, Mount Khourne was an expanse eastward into the unknown; a far wilderness.

I reflect back on the one word, Khourne. It is nearly magical to my people. I rest my back against the dirt of the mountain that juts skyward above me. It is tall yet pales in comparison to that mountain that calls to nearly all who are Sheima. Its spire towers above all else, dwarfing those who shall challenge its summit. Someday I would like to challenge its heights, but that will come at a time of my choosing. I am but a babe in the woods.

The sky above blackens as the sun falls below the Western Sea on the other side of my world. The rains I braced for scampered to the east along with the high clouds that held them, blown by the uppermost winds that trail from the nostrils of the gods. The dampness I feel from them however sends shivers deep into my bones. Would that Clarisa would stoke the small fire before me with the warmth of her hearth. That thought alone brings a smile to my lips. The rock against me feels not like the sturdy chair beneath me a day ago.

Night settles in and a new day will be on the horizon.

High Song Pass

The morning sun has long since passed, its light swallowed by the blackening sky. I feel the chill breeze as it snakes through the mountain passes to my right. The gathering clouds signal a storm chasing its way across the upper reaches of the Dream Valley.

Such a sight I recall from years ago, my first visit upon the heights of High Song Pass. The memory still stirs my soul as for the first time, I put behind me the mundane farmer's fields of the Middle Valley of the Chrystum. Before me lay the valley that truly holds the beauty of my lands; the Dream Valley. I stood that day on the precipice that began my journey of self-discovery. The endless lands of summer that day took hold of my heart and pierced my soul. Had I not discovered the scenic beauty that day, I would likely not walk the paths before me now.

The wilderness to my left, though scenic holds not the untouched timelessness of the Dream Valley, a land held near sacred in the lore of my peoples. It is the last vestige of what we were, of what it means to be Sheima. My first night, my own dreams touched the lore of that landscape as its world unfolded to me in my sleep; truly a dreamland.

I take in the peaks before me and may only imagine their views into that valley. Though beauty is fleeting, none could hold the mesmerizing quality of the lands below High Song Pass. It shall ever be emblazoned in my memories.

The wind whips down upon me through a cleft between the mountains and I pull my cloak up tight about me. I feel the first drops of the coming rains. I now wish for one more day in my friend's cottage. It is not to be. I must look ahead; only ahead.

Past the threshold

Breakfast now finished, I offer my services yet am again, politely rebuffed. The more I linger, the more I feel the pull of their cottage wanting to keep me from my journey, but my journey I must now renew. I feel the warmth of the hearth which kept away the damp airs as the night's storm traveled through. I feel the warmth also of the home itself and those who took me in, offering a stranger, kindness. One last time I walk to the stone hearth and reach for my pack and cloak.

"I have enjoyed your company, Mr. Clancy."

"As have I, yours, Clarisa." I hear the softness of her words and the gentleness of her heart. I long to stay, but that is not an option.

"Where will you travel too?"

"I have no particular direction in mind, Reenie." I wrap my cloak around my shoulders and hike my pack  upon my back. In my mind, I know I will miss this place.

"The Valley of Rivers is passage north along the coast. Should you travel in that direction, you will find it both challenging and worthwhile."

Reenie slips into his chair as he stares into the dying fire, the flickering embers revealing the wrinkles hidden within his face. It is a hard life he has led. Or is it simply a life that is passing? We shall all face that time when we have fewer years ahead of us than behind. I reach to lay a hand on his shoulder but pull it back. He has given of himself and his home this night and I am grateful for the respite. It is time I find my way along.

As she walks me to the door, I find myself ready to travel. An hour past, I would not have said the same, yet now that threshold is no longer a barrier. She lays her hand upon my arm and smiles, her warmth sending me into the world again with renewed vigor. I watch as the sun climbs to meet the growing clouds as the western winds push against the eastern sky.

South. I shall go south.

Window on the world

The storm that has rolled up against the back of the Sirris does little to keep me awake. A time or two I'm stirred by the light of the heavens, though I quickly slip back into my unconscious world. The morning light now fills my space as dawn has broken the surface of the world. The first beams of the new day wash across my face and I feel its warmth upon my skin. As I roll, I see the flames crackling brightly. Tis the mark of a sturdy hearth to keep its charge alight.

As I rise I feel refreshed with the coming of the morning. My window to the new day is filled with scenes from my own memories. The fields are awash with golden hues from the rising sun. A gentle breeze sweeps softly above the towering crops as they sway beneath its touch. The clouds above creep closer to the horizon, pushed by the breeze from behind the mountains. It is a beautiful day to behold, though like the crops soon to fall to the scythe, the darkening clouds will surely snuff the glory I behold.

A whisper turns me, my attention now taken from the new day. She is there, her cloak tightly snugged about her. She is radiant in her own way even in the morning hours, her smile soft and comfortable. I have never felt so welcome in all my years.

"Good morning, Clancy."

I nod, a gentle smile upon my lips. I take a deep breath, realizing my time in this place is nearly over. I look again as the sun creeps above the plains, the morning shadows shortening with each passing minute. I turn again and already her work has begun as the sounds of the kitchen come alive. Another day starts and her routines begin anew. I peer out the window one final time as it calls to me, a new day and a new step in my journey as I wonder what my day will hold.

A pensive night

As the flames ebb and night has fully taken hold of the day, we retire for the evening. I again feel as an intruder to their world. Their cottage is not structured for visitors; though small and cozy I believe it has been many a year since they have received overnight guests. As I watch, a proper-looking bed is quickly assembled for me next to the hearth. The next crack of thunder sends a shiver down my spine as I begin to feel the dampness of the storm invading. The fire will be a welcome friend this night.

As I lay I take in my surroundings and think back on this night. My thoughts see their life through different eyes than I once did. Their lives are entwined like no one I have come across in my life. Their home is filled with love, but I sense there is something missing, something my eyes have not revealed. I comb each foot of their world; nothing. Now it is time to sleep, time for a renewal of my own. As the fire warms my back and my eyes slide down for the final time, my thoughts awaken me.

Family. I sit straight up in my bed and look about. They are a family of two. Absent are any signs of children or grandchildren. My heart sinks as I feel their loneliness. Yet, perhaps it is my own absence of family that tugs at my soul. I lay again and listen to the sounds of night intrude. The storm that sweeps in from the east across open plains lashes its full fury upon the mountains surrounding us. I think back to the first night he spent in the mountains and the soggy beginnings of his new adventure. What will my next night bring?

This fire gently holds me in its warmth as my thoughts carry me into my dreams.

Night of decision

I sit back and relax believing I will hear a wonderful tale of adventure. I look into my glass, the spirits coating the sides with their amber hue. Its aroma rolls up and fills my nostrils. It is a heady brew indeed. I watch the flames dance in the hearth as we hear a faint rumble coming across the Siris.

"Sounds like a storm is coming in, dear."

"Much like that night in the mountains." Reenie rocks back, then stops. "Aye, that night," he says as he rocks forward. "The first was like any other night I had escaped to the mountains, calm with cool breezes coming off the peaks. I was sure my decision was the right one. The second night was much the same. I looked forward to seeing what was on the other side, but felt the comfort of familiar surroundings. Then as I looked out through the final passage, that last tunnel that hinted at what was on the other side, I remember shuddering. I stood on a precipice; the biggest decision I ever faced was before me."

"Decision?" I am lost. What decision is it he will make?

"Aye, to turn back." I watch as Reenie leans forward, the chair not moving beneath him. "I felt the pull of the safety of home. I could go back and shrink before my father, though he would have simply shrugged it off to the rebelliousness of youth. He would have doubled my work for a time, but that would pass, I was sure of it. It was then a vicious storm blew in from the sea. I was not prepared for the onslaught. I had found no cave to take refuge, not even so much as an overhang to shield me from the relentless rain. I curled up behind a boulder and tucked my cloak around be. It was one of the longest nights of my life."

I watch as the memory sinks in and he lifts his glass to his lips. The light of the flames dance along the rim of his glass as he sips one more memory.

"Then, as the light broke across the peaks, the storm subsided and the sun shone upon a world I had never seen. As I looked across the last peak the distant rumble of the shore rode in on a fresh breeze. For the first time I could taste the world where the salt of the sea met the dirt of the land. What greeted me was not the pounding of rain and thunder that kept me pinned behind a rock, but the distant sounds of life. Below was a most magnificent collage, a painting of valleys and rivers and forests as seen from above that ran out to the Western Sea. Just then, the first beams of the new day rose enough to touch the waters and filled them with the deepest of blue."

He sits back again, partially obscuring him from my view behind Clarisa.

"It was then I knew I had chosen the right path, a path of discover."

A crack nearly sends me from my chair. Perhaps that night, all those long years ago has a memory. As the storm burrows in, it is time to retire, for tomorrow is another day; another dawn.