Vhalar 20, 720
“Navyri!”
“Sinir!”
Tree trunk after tree trunk went on as far as the eye could see. The forest was both vast and dense. But there was not sign of the dark haired beauty, nor of the brilliant winged sleipnir. Not a trace of movement in the still of the dark forest.
Brent pushed aside a low hanging branch as he forged ahead, trying to find some sort of trail or even a land mark. He fumbled with his spyglass as he stepped over a fallen tree. But when he tried to look through, it was all blurry. Even when he adjusted its length, he couldn’t get it to focus.
“Navyri, where are you?” He called out, but all that responded was a distant echo.
There was a sharp splash as his boot sank into some fresh mud. The way was not clear, but he had to keep going. A small forest stream crossed his path and he awkwardly jumped from rock to log to another log to get to the other side. A slow billowing mist began to rise on his left. Did it come from the west? Or the north? Brent stopped to pull out his compass.
As he held out the small device in his hand, the dial began to spin. Patiently Brent waited for it to settle, but as he waited it kept spinning. Glancing to the side, he looked nervously at the growing fog.
“Come on… come on…” he whispered to the compass. But still, it would not settle.
With his stomach growing knots in it, he shut the compass closed and faced the ominous fog. It was as if it had formed shapes. Skimming the bushline and the fallen trees in the forest, there was the outline of what appeared to be a woman. Yet it was not the dark haired winged woman he sought. She appeared noble-looking and dressed regally in a ballgown or something of the sort. There was something familiar about her long hair and how it glinted auburn in the forest light. And yet the memory seemed distant, as if from a dream.
Off in the distance he could hear the sound of hammers and shovels. Limping up the hill thick with trees, he ran, hoping to find some people. But as he reached the top the forest opened up into a construction site. An empty one.
There was an open pit with shovels and axes strewn about. A pair of wheelbarrows sat idle at the edge of the excavation site. A tall pillar of white rock stood over the scene and it was half carved into a beautiful lady with fish scales along her arms and legs.
Brent instinctively looked at his compass, but still the dial spun. Unfinished. Directionless.
There was a distant boom of thunder and then a sudden flash of lightning. A storm was coming. Glancing about, Brent took stock of the empty construction site. There were a couple of tunnels or caves jutting out from the main excavation. Taking his chances, he swung his legs over the edge of dig and landed several feet down with a stumble. His right leg was sore as he staggered over to one of these small tunnels. Lightning lit up the sky and there was a tremendous boom of thunder. That’s when the skies opened up to a downpour of rain.
---
Brent huddled in the small cave as the rain pounded the ground. He was reminded acutely of the tunnel that had collapsed around him. No, that was just a dream. It hadn’t been real. And this time he was alone. No charming healer; no other miners. Mud began to accumulate at the bottom of the tunnel. Even on the rock he sat, the wind from outside blew the rain so that it speckled his face.
Despair started to creep over him. How was he going to find his way? How was he supposed to lead? Was it time to give up? Leave things unfinished? Regret tore at his stomach. Of all the things he could be, here he was trapped in a cave of his own making. The rain battered away and his boots sank deeper and deeper into the mud. As he tried to get up, he found that his boots were stuck. It was only after great effort did he manage to tear one away and then the other. He needed to keep moving.
Brent started down the dark tunnel. He could stretch his legs, seek better cover, retreat from the storm… But it only got darker as the roof steadily got shorter. Where was he going? This wasn’t an escape. There was no paradise at the end of this tunnel. Turning around, Brent squinted to try to make out the rain at the mouth of the tunnel. For a moment as he stood there undecided, he could make out soft voices whispering within the cave. Disappointment. People who he had left. Tasks unfinished. Work abandoned.
What if he just stayed where he was? He could wait out the storm. He didn’t have to go back. Maybe Navyri was better off without him. Life would move on and he would slowly slip away from people’s memories… What if he wasn’t able to conquer a storm? It was a force of nature. How could anyone conquer a storm?
No. It wasn’t a storm he needed to conquer. It was merely a storm he needed to endure. There were people out there who needed him. Or at the very least, he needed to be accountable to them. Step by step, he pulled his boots against the mud. He could let himself be consumed by the safety of the cave but he would have to come out at some time or another. There was still a slight limp in his step as he made himself progressively closer to the mouth of the tunnel. Another flash of lightning lit up the tunnel. It was now waist deep in mud. But he didn’t care. He would get through this. He needed to.
There was a strange sensation that more time had passed than he had originally thought. He had been sure it was evening when he had set upon the abandoned construction site, yet now when he looked out at the rain he was sure that the sun was rising. The rain had not ceased, although it had abated slightly.
Within seconds, Brent was soaked through. He waded through the thick of the mud, his boots completely filled and limbs painted a fresh brown. What did it matter if he couldn’t be all that he could be? He had to be something! Something was better than nothing at all. One could not hide for eternity. And if one faltered, it was better to make up for it where you can and not be paralyzed where you couldn’t. As though hearing his thoughts, his foot slipped and he sloshed sideways into the mud. Struggling against it, Brent half swam and half waded through the viscous mess. He was going to let people down but he was also going to improve the lives of others and make good on his word. Even if it was a struggle to prevent his sense of regret from consuming him.
Grabbing hold of a boulder, he realized he had made it to firm ground. He was covered from head to toe with mud, but the rain was slowly washing it off him. It was no longer the same downpour as before, now just a drizzle. The morning light was even starting to make an appearance, as it filtered through the forest leaves.
He could not help everybody, but he’d start with going after the ones he cared most about. Navyri and Sinir. From there, maybe he would build up enough strength to branch out to more people. One step at a time. He briefly took out his compass. For some reason he thought it would finally show him the direction to go, but it still seemed to spin in circles. That’s when the realization hit. It wasn’t about using his compass for direction. It was about finding direction within himself.
Slowly Brent looked around the abandoned construction site. It was time to move on. He wasn’t doing anyone any good by lingering. By now most of the mud had been washed from his face. It was time to seek out the ones he cared about.
Brent started to walk towards the morning light. His limp was no longer so noticeable. Dawn. He was heading east towards the morning light. Yes. And east towards Etzos. That’s where he’d find her. Brent glanced briefly over his shoulder. With the misty rain hanging over the clearing, he caught sight of a brief rainbow. Then it disappeared.
Continuing his path eastwards, Brent climbed the forested trail. A momentary flutter of white wings caught his eye. He thought it was a dove before it disappeared into the foliage. What would be, would be. The first step was getting himself back on the path he wished to follow.
---
The image of the sunlight sparkling off of the rain soaked leaves was still fresh in his mind as he came to consciousness. Brent kept his eyes closed a few moments longer as he tried to imprint the dream into his memory. It had been a dream but it had also been so much more.
“Thank you.” He whispered, to no one in particular.
“Navyri!”
“Sinir!”
Tree trunk after tree trunk went on as far as the eye could see. The forest was both vast and dense. But there was not sign of the dark haired beauty, nor of the brilliant winged sleipnir. Not a trace of movement in the still of the dark forest.
Brent pushed aside a low hanging branch as he forged ahead, trying to find some sort of trail or even a land mark. He fumbled with his spyglass as he stepped over a fallen tree. But when he tried to look through, it was all blurry. Even when he adjusted its length, he couldn’t get it to focus.
“Navyri, where are you?” He called out, but all that responded was a distant echo.
There was a sharp splash as his boot sank into some fresh mud. The way was not clear, but he had to keep going. A small forest stream crossed his path and he awkwardly jumped from rock to log to another log to get to the other side. A slow billowing mist began to rise on his left. Did it come from the west? Or the north? Brent stopped to pull out his compass.
As he held out the small device in his hand, the dial began to spin. Patiently Brent waited for it to settle, but as he waited it kept spinning. Glancing to the side, he looked nervously at the growing fog.
“Come on… come on…” he whispered to the compass. But still, it would not settle.
With his stomach growing knots in it, he shut the compass closed and faced the ominous fog. It was as if it had formed shapes. Skimming the bushline and the fallen trees in the forest, there was the outline of what appeared to be a woman. Yet it was not the dark haired winged woman he sought. She appeared noble-looking and dressed regally in a ballgown or something of the sort. There was something familiar about her long hair and how it glinted auburn in the forest light. And yet the memory seemed distant, as if from a dream.
Off in the distance he could hear the sound of hammers and shovels. Limping up the hill thick with trees, he ran, hoping to find some people. But as he reached the top the forest opened up into a construction site. An empty one.
There was an open pit with shovels and axes strewn about. A pair of wheelbarrows sat idle at the edge of the excavation site. A tall pillar of white rock stood over the scene and it was half carved into a beautiful lady with fish scales along her arms and legs.
Brent instinctively looked at his compass, but still the dial spun. Unfinished. Directionless.
There was a distant boom of thunder and then a sudden flash of lightning. A storm was coming. Glancing about, Brent took stock of the empty construction site. There were a couple of tunnels or caves jutting out from the main excavation. Taking his chances, he swung his legs over the edge of dig and landed several feet down with a stumble. His right leg was sore as he staggered over to one of these small tunnels. Lightning lit up the sky and there was a tremendous boom of thunder. That’s when the skies opened up to a downpour of rain.
---
Brent huddled in the small cave as the rain pounded the ground. He was reminded acutely of the tunnel that had collapsed around him. No, that was just a dream. It hadn’t been real. And this time he was alone. No charming healer; no other miners. Mud began to accumulate at the bottom of the tunnel. Even on the rock he sat, the wind from outside blew the rain so that it speckled his face.
Despair started to creep over him. How was he going to find his way? How was he supposed to lead? Was it time to give up? Leave things unfinished? Regret tore at his stomach. Of all the things he could be, here he was trapped in a cave of his own making. The rain battered away and his boots sank deeper and deeper into the mud. As he tried to get up, he found that his boots were stuck. It was only after great effort did he manage to tear one away and then the other. He needed to keep moving.
Brent started down the dark tunnel. He could stretch his legs, seek better cover, retreat from the storm… But it only got darker as the roof steadily got shorter. Where was he going? This wasn’t an escape. There was no paradise at the end of this tunnel. Turning around, Brent squinted to try to make out the rain at the mouth of the tunnel. For a moment as he stood there undecided, he could make out soft voices whispering within the cave. Disappointment. People who he had left. Tasks unfinished. Work abandoned.
What if he just stayed where he was? He could wait out the storm. He didn’t have to go back. Maybe Navyri was better off without him. Life would move on and he would slowly slip away from people’s memories… What if he wasn’t able to conquer a storm? It was a force of nature. How could anyone conquer a storm?
No. It wasn’t a storm he needed to conquer. It was merely a storm he needed to endure. There were people out there who needed him. Or at the very least, he needed to be accountable to them. Step by step, he pulled his boots against the mud. He could let himself be consumed by the safety of the cave but he would have to come out at some time or another. There was still a slight limp in his step as he made himself progressively closer to the mouth of the tunnel. Another flash of lightning lit up the tunnel. It was now waist deep in mud. But he didn’t care. He would get through this. He needed to.
There was a strange sensation that more time had passed than he had originally thought. He had been sure it was evening when he had set upon the abandoned construction site, yet now when he looked out at the rain he was sure that the sun was rising. The rain had not ceased, although it had abated slightly.
Within seconds, Brent was soaked through. He waded through the thick of the mud, his boots completely filled and limbs painted a fresh brown. What did it matter if he couldn’t be all that he could be? He had to be something! Something was better than nothing at all. One could not hide for eternity. And if one faltered, it was better to make up for it where you can and not be paralyzed where you couldn’t. As though hearing his thoughts, his foot slipped and he sloshed sideways into the mud. Struggling against it, Brent half swam and half waded through the viscous mess. He was going to let people down but he was also going to improve the lives of others and make good on his word. Even if it was a struggle to prevent his sense of regret from consuming him.
Grabbing hold of a boulder, he realized he had made it to firm ground. He was covered from head to toe with mud, but the rain was slowly washing it off him. It was no longer the same downpour as before, now just a drizzle. The morning light was even starting to make an appearance, as it filtered through the forest leaves.
He could not help everybody, but he’d start with going after the ones he cared most about. Navyri and Sinir. From there, maybe he would build up enough strength to branch out to more people. One step at a time. He briefly took out his compass. For some reason he thought it would finally show him the direction to go, but it still seemed to spin in circles. That’s when the realization hit. It wasn’t about using his compass for direction. It was about finding direction within himself.
Slowly Brent looked around the abandoned construction site. It was time to move on. He wasn’t doing anyone any good by lingering. By now most of the mud had been washed from his face. It was time to seek out the ones he cared about.
Brent started to walk towards the morning light. His limp was no longer so noticeable. Dawn. He was heading east towards the morning light. Yes. And east towards Etzos. That’s where he’d find her. Brent glanced briefly over his shoulder. With the misty rain hanging over the clearing, he caught sight of a brief rainbow. Then it disappeared.
Continuing his path eastwards, Brent climbed the forested trail. A momentary flutter of white wings caught his eye. He thought it was a dove before it disappeared into the foliage. What would be, would be. The first step was getting himself back on the path he wished to follow.
---
The image of the sunlight sparkling off of the rain soaked leaves was still fresh in his mind as he came to consciousness. Brent kept his eyes closed a few moments longer as he tried to imprint the dream into his memory. It had been a dream but it had also been so much more.
“Thank you.” He whispered, to no one in particular.
