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Path-finder's tale week 22

Part 9 The Years of Wandering


1. What followed after Eagle’s parting with Grey-mane was a strange period. Loneliness and confusion dominated it, but there were also unexpected encounters which would have tremendous effects on his former views. Later on, he would refer to this time as the years of wondering. He never talked much of them and, even in the rare occasion that he did mention the time, it was only in passing – never in detail. But they were the years most burned inside his mind, even though he kept their significance a secret. During this time he became a completely different person in many ways. He became truly Eagle, leaving all that had been Kassir behind. In those years he came to consider the World Without as home, and that is how it stayed until his dying day.

They were not easy years. They were filled with darkness and danger and endless walking in an ever-changing world. Many times he nearly lost his life on the treacherous paths. But he survived in the end and came to regard that time fondly. And, if he was sure fate had a say in his decisions then, he did not begrudge it. What came from those years was good in the end. He finally felt fulfilled.

But he could not know all this when he woke up that cold morning to find Grey-mane gone. All he knew was that he had lost a companion, and it was doubtful he would find another one too soon. He was alone in a foreign land whose features were entirely unfamiliar to him. He would likely be walking its dark roads for a long time, if not forever.


He cursed himself for sending Grey-mane away. He nearly tried to call him back, but stopped himself in time. No doubt Grey-mane would come if he was anywhere near. But Eagle had no right to do this to him. Grey-mane was a free creature. And he was finally home. Eagle could not take that away from him.


So he set out, resigned to continue his journey alone. He kept going towards the forest, even though he was nervous to enter it without Grey-mane at his side. But it was in his path and he knew in his heart that he had to keep going northwards. There were no other roads for him. Two days passed before he found himself on the eaves of the wood. The trees were tall, so much taller than their smaller counterparts that from time to time could be found in the desert. The air beneath their canopy was cool and fresh.


He took a few hesitant steps inside the forest. He felt a shiver run through him and could not identify its source at first. He did not know what was happening, only that it felt as if he had entered a different world – one where everything was more poignant and much more alive. It was an overwhelming sensation – not completely unpleasant, but awe-inspiring nevertheless. He did not know what he would find under the shadows of the trees, but he suspected that it would change him. In the end, he decided to take whatever the World Without had to throw at him head on. He stepped further into the forest.


For quite some time, the journey was pleasant. The air was clean and gave him plenty of energy. The days were darker, since the sun could not always break through the thick canopy, but it was not a darkness he minded. And there were plenty of bright patches here and there, if he found himself missing the sunlight. It was not as bad as the tunnels of the Mountain Ogres and he had managed to survive those.


Then there was the song. The forest was never silent. Not even at night. There was always the chirping of birds and the buzzing of insects, the crack of twigs when some unknown creature passed and the rustle of leaves in the wind. To Eagle, these sounds blended together to form a single tune, constantly changing, but with a meaning that always stayed the same. It made him feel the forest was not just a place – but was in itself a living, breathing entity. The notion filled him with awe – it was frightening yet incredibly wonderful at the same time.


There was no shortage of food. There were plenty of animals he could hunt and, even when they hid from him, there were fruits in the trees or in the bushes. Most of these were good and wholesome. One was enough to keep him on his feet for an entire day.


One time, though, he must have made a mistake. He came across some dark berries in a bush. Nothing grew around it, and that should have been warning enough. But he had found little to eat the day before, so he was hungrier than usual. He picked a few berries. They tasted bad and he did not eat many of them. But the damage had already been done.


That afternoon, he suddenly started feeling strange. His stomach pained him and his throat had grown so dry, it was hard to swallow. At first, Eagle thought nothing of it and walked on. He had been ill before. Back in the desert, he had often suffered from sun-stroke and he learned to ignore the illness and keep going.


But he soon realised he would not be able to continue walking this time. He began to feel dizzy, his vision greying around the edges. He held himself upright only by clutching the trunks of the trees he passed and stumbled as if drunk. He would not be able to remain on his feet for long. At length, he found a small hollow near a clear spring. He lay down, waiting for the sickness to pass.


For a time – Eagle could not remember later how long, but he was certain it had been more than a few days – things only got worse. He lay in his hollow, at times too ill to even get up and drink water from the spring. He was either too hot or too cold and the bouts of pain grew more frequent, leaving him exhausted and depleted of all strength when they were gone. He was beginning to fear he would die there in the forest and it was an unbearable notion. No one would know what happened to him – or mourn his passing. He would be completely forgotten.


In his state of delirium, he was convinced this was a punishment from the Desert Gods for the way he had defied their decrees. He wondered if he should not ask for forgiveness and promise to return to his former creed – if only he was spared. But he was lucid enough to know he would never completely agree with the ways of the desert. He would never achieve true repentance – and false regrets were useless when it came to the Gods. They would not help him.


Eagle lay there for days, unable to tell what was real anymore. The visions that had plagued him during his first journey to the Temple of the Sun Gods were now back in full force. He saw himself walking the cobbled streets of a strange city. It was all much clearer now. He could distinguish the people’s faces. They were looking at him gravely, as if they were expecting something from him. But Eagle could not tell what.


The image changed soon after and was followed by quick flashes of shifting landscapes. There were marshes and dark woods and empty fields. Eagle found himself standing in one such field. There was smoke in his nostrils and a rumour of a great host somewhere nearby. Without conscious thought, Eagle looked up. He saw a strange white creature, blotting up the sun. A gigantic bird, maybe, but he could make out scales instead of feathers. It gazed straight at him.


He woke up with a start. The moment of contact had been so intense, it dissipated the vision completely. Eagle was back in the real world, panting and afraid to open his eyes. What if he caught sight again of that creature staring back at him? He lay for a while taking stock of himself. He was cool, but not unbearably so. His head ached and he was dazed and weak, but that felt only as an after-effect of his illness. He no longer thought he was dying. He had been spared.


Eagle opened his eyes. He was surprised to find himself in the forest. He noticed it was rather dark. He staggered to the small brook and drank his fill. The water made him feel better, but he was still tired. He slowly made his way back to the hollow and slept for a long time.


For another week, he remained in the hollow. He only went on short walks to drink water and find food. He ate only the fruits that he knew were good. He learned to be careful with what he ate from then on.


After a week, he was back on the road. His pace was slower. He knew it would take some time before he recovered his strength fully. In the end, he told himself that the experienced with the poisonous fruit, however unpleasant, had been a good thing. Ever since he had entered the forest he had been lulled by a false sense of security. He had forgotten he was in a place unknown to him. He now vowed to become entirely familiar with the World Without – its good sides and its dangers alike.

2.The woods stretched on endlessly. Now Eagle realised that what he had taken as one forest was in fact a wooded country with patches of green glades here and there. He mostly avoided those patches. That was where the settlements could be found. From time to time, though, he did stop by. He sold a few more of the Crimson Stones to the surprised villagers in exchange for fresh supplies and, one time when it was raining heavily, a place to sleep. The people were usually bewildered by his presence – they rarely had strangers in their remote dwellings. But they were friendly and helpful. In one such place a woman foisted some woollen clothes on Eagle. When the Light-tender made to refuse her, she would not take no for an answer.


“You’ll freeze to death with what you’re wearing now when winter settles in,” she said sharply. “You need warmer clothes, young man.”


In truth, it was indeed getting colder. Eagle often woke up shivering. So in the end he gratefully accepted the woman’s gifts. He found his misgivings about accepting too many favours from the inhabitants of the World Without shattering a little bit more.


The land was now climbing steadily. These were no hills, though. Eagle had now entered a small mountain range. He found his advance slowed down once again.


At another village, an old man told him snow would be coming soon – maybe in the next few days.


“We did not have snow in our parts,” Eagle said. “What is it? Is it bad?”


The old man looked at him in disbelief. Apparently, to him, living in a land where there was no snow was just as inconceivable as it would have been to a desert dweller to hear about people living in places where it rained more than once a year.


“Snow is frozen rain, lad. It settles on the ground and remains there sometimes for weeks on end. It is a pretty sight, some say, but a nuisance for those who live close to the mountains. Villages are often cut off from each other in winter.”


Eagle’s eyes widened at the news of something so terrible.


“That is not too encouraging.”


The old man snorted.


“No, especially not to travellers.” He paused and looked thoughtfully at Eagle. “Why not spend the winter here?” he offered. “You would not be the first traveller we have sheltered. It is true that provisions dwindle in the cold months. But that has never stopped us from giving whatever aid we can to those in need.”


Eagle was tempted, just as he had been when Tak had asked him to join him in the Merchants’ Citadel. But he was afraid of what the villagers might think of him. Perhaps they did not know about Light-tenders, but what if they realised at some point something was amiss with him? And where would Eagle be then? How would the villagers react? No, it was better for him to refrain from spending too much time among people – at least until he was able to hide his talents better.


He left the village laden with food – the people were not offended by his refusal to stay, though they did try several times to make him change his mind. They even gave him a flask of wine to keep him warm, which impressed him greatly; since wine was so rare in the desert, the people there were quite stingy with it. His plan was to find a cave in the mountains where he could hole up with his provisions and wait for the winter to pass. It would be hard for one like him to stay in one place for so long, but he did not think walking the mountain paths through the snow would be safe. Not until he was better acquainted with them.


After two days, he found a suitable cave. He had discovered another the previous day, too, but, when approaching it, he was stopped by a menacing growling. He decided to retreat. He might have been well-armed, but he preferred to avoid battle whenever possible. It would not be fair to encroach on someone else’s territory, anyway. The other cave was, thankfully, empty. It was also quite deep. Inside, it was cool, but not as cold as outside. He carried wood for fire and straws to make a warm bed. Here, he decided, he would wait out the winter.


For three days nothing happened. It got progressively colder, and the sky remained overcast, but nothing fell from it, neither raindrop nor snowflake. Eagle was beginning to worry he had made the wrong choice. Perhaps he should not have stopped yet. He should have gone on. He could have found another cave before the snow came – if such a thing as snow really existed. What if the old villager had only been playing with him, making fun of an inexperienced traveller?


During those three days, Eagle had time to explore his surroundings. He discovered a place where he could get more firewood and a spring. He also found a small tree with red round fruit left over from the autumn. They were good fruit, not like the berries that had nearly killed him, so he picked them all up to add to his provisions. Since he had been given food in every village he had stopped, he had quite a larder now. It would last him a while. Some of the food would grow stale, and he would probably run out before winter was over. But he decided to cross that bridge when he came to it. Perhaps he could find something to hunt when his provisions got low.


On the fourth day since Eagle found shelter in the cave, it snowed.


He woke up that morning with the distinct feeling that something was different. The world was quiet. All sounds he could make out were muffled, as if there was a blanket that covered the world outside. It was an unnerving feeling for a Light-tender. It did not frighten him, though. It only made him curious, so he decided to get up and investigate.


As he was walking towards the mouth of the cave, he got his second proof that something had changed. There was a light outside. It was not the sun. He knew the sun quite well, but this was something else. It was silvery and blinding and altogether confusing. Now more intrigued than ever, he quickened his pace.


Once he reached the mouth of the cave and peered outside, Eagle got the shock of his life. The world had, indeed, altered. The browns and dark greens of the mountains were now turned to white. The sky, too, had a milky whiteness and from it specks of silver fell, mingling with the coverlet that was already on the ground. This, then, was the snow that the villager had warned him about.


He drew back. He noticed he was shivering. It was not from the cold, though – it wasn’t even as cold as on the previous days. It was more from fear – the terror anyone would feel when faced with something unknown and incomprehensible. For a moment, he was tempted to slink back into the farthest corner of the cave and lie there with the blankets drawn over his head until winter passed. Until the snow outside was no more. But he was not that kind of person. He did not flee from the unknown. He tackled it head on. He tried to understand it. Ignoring his petrifying terror, he drew a deep breath and stepped outside.


The first thing he was aware of was that, although the flakes were touching him, they were not harming him in any way. They felt like raindrops, only much colder. They bit sharply, but they were not unpleasant. In a strange, unexplainable way, they filled him with a delight for which he knew no cause. It made him realise he had seldom felt so alive.


Without knowing why, he extended his hand to catch a few of those frozen raindrops. He inspected his palm closely. He took note how beautiful they were, how intricate their patterns, none of them the same. The people of the desert considered themselves blessed. But how could a land that never knew snow be blessed?


Slowly, he closed his fist, as if to hold the small white raindrops to him forever. When he unclenched his hand again, though, he noticed the snow had turned to water in his palm. The intricate patterns were gone. Sadness filled his heart, a sadness so keen and overwhelming, just as his joy had been but a few moments before. Winter must truly be an amazing thing, he thought, if it could fill one with such happiness and melancholy in equal measure.


Eagle stood for a long time outside his cave, his head tipped up, watching the falling snow. In the end, he realised he had started to shiver again, from the cold this time. He turned and went back inside, where he lit a fire to warm himself. There was peace in his soul. He was sure now he would survive the winter.

3.Eagle did survive his first winter in the World Without – barely. The cold was not something he was used to, so it often brought about sickness and fever. There were times when he felt too weak to get out and find more wood for the fire. There were times when he was afraid he would fall asleep and freeze to death. And, by the end of the winter months, he was beginning to think he would welcome it.


His carefully gathered provisions began to dwindle after a while. Winter dragged on, longer in the mountains than in other places. Weeks passed and it kept on snowing, the world lying in sleep. Eagle’s wine was gone and the only water he could drink was the melted snow outside his cave. It tasted good enough, but he could not often get it warm, and it left his throat dry and sore.


At times, especially by the end of his stay, he had to leave the cave and go further from it in his desperate search for food. Some days he would get lucky and find some dried fruits buried in the snow or some confused animal as famished as he was. And then he would know he ensured his survival for a few more days.


But there were plenty of other times when he could find no food at all. Hunger and illness clouded his mind, bringing unreal images to him even when he was wide awake. He saw the harsh faces of the Sun Gods and Rain Goddesses. He saw his mother and his father and Lusa. When he was worst off, he saw the faces of all the people he had reported on to the Sun Priests and he was sure they were there to take him to the world of the dead.


Eagle did not die. It might have been his will to live which bordered on stubbornness that helped him – his constant desire to beat the odds. Or maybe, when the Desert Gods had given him sharper senses, they had also gifted him with greater endurance, so that he could overcome obstacles that would have beaten most men. Or maybe fate had a hand in it. Maybe he was not meant to die alone, frozen to death in a cave on his first winter in the World Without. Whatever the cause, winter was coming to an end, and he was still alive.


One morning, he staggered out of his cave in what he thought would be a fruitless search for food. The sun was shining, but that did not tell him much. The sun had shined before and it only brought with it greater frost, much worse than the snow. But there was something different this time. The air was changed, less sharp, and Eagle thought he could pick up water trickling. It was the icicles that clung to the trees. They were melting.

Eagle looked down. He saw it then. In the snow there was a small blue flower. He fell to his knees beside it and caressed the petals gently, careful not to damage it. He had never seen anything so beautiful. It brought tears to his eyes. This was a sign of hope. He had survived his first winter.


Copyright Simina Lungu 2022

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