Vision Quest

By: Pantalaimon Posted on: April 28, 2004

The normally scenic route through the Southern Vashner mountain range was instead a tedious adventure, each landmark seeming to be a lifetime away from the last as I approached the Aerathian Falls. Finally, the falls rushed before me, cascading down to the placid village below. I scrambled down the rocks beside the falls; the spray depositing tiny dew drops on my exposed skin. After an unavoidable shallow wade across the water, I found myself standing before Lordar, her sword glinting brightly in the sunlight. She smiled kindly at me, a benevolence I had instilled in her through my participation in healing Lorios. I continued on from the entrance of the village, ascending into the hut of the Shaman. A thick smoke emanating from a boiling cauldron hovered about the low ceiling as I entered.

"Welcome, Child. What kept you?" he announced with his back still to me, cutting off my greeting before it began. He seemed to know more about me than I did, always aware of my visits despite my attempts of surprising him.

"Thank you. The water was rather high today and I was trying to keep my new cloak dry." I replied, slightly disheartened at another failure to surprise the wise old man. Yet, it gave me hope that one day I myself might posses such a skill, and more immediately, that his transcendent knowledge might be able to help me in my quest.

"A good thought, but you only made the situation worse," He explained. "Sometimes the visible threats are more easily dealt with that those you encounter through evasion."

Confused, I glanced down at my dripping cloak and noticed the large tear that grew along the side. Upon exiting the village, I would find a tattered piece of my cloak clinging to the hidden bush of thorns that stole it away from me. That man constantly amazes me.

"Behind the tapestry," he mumbled under his breath.

This was a common request he dictated to me. For some reason, he liked to seem unoccupied when a new arrival entered at his hut. I often wondered if other were stored away in hidden rooms upon my entrance, although, such thoughts were usually overridden by others of a more pressing importance.

I pulled the Jaruvian tapestry aside, revealing a small aperture in the wall. The opening was quite tight for several feet, but then it opened into a small sanctuary. The walls were painted an intense black, the color misleading one as to their actual depth. I would believe the room continued on forever if I had not groped around and found the walls several times in the past. Against the far wall stood a small altar adorned with a black silken cloth. Four sleek candles guarded the corners, their black stalks like pillars holding the night sky. Their wicks burned with an ethereal flame, never dying and never reducing the candles. The light flowed inward only, illuminating the altar, but nothing of its surroundings. In the center of the altar stood a small statue of Lord Thoth; His six arms held out to the sides, His face covered with the plain mask that always festooned His Majesty. Amidst my preoccupation with the regal sanctuary, I heard a shriek and the Shaman addressing a new comer.

"Goodling thinks that only lita lita bitsk falls on yous!" the Shaman exclaimed.

I instantly recognized the act he had performed upon my first encounter with him. Stirring a little too vigorously, he would allow a splash of liquid from his bowl land upon the visitor, transforming them into a small, orange pig for a moment before they returned to normal. A little practical joke the Shaman liked to play, it had sparked my interest immediately. What great power one must have to alter someone's form like that. He continued on with his mangled Achaean, baffling the young bard. After a few silent moments, I heard the door of the hut swing back into its frame.

"Pantalaimon, you may come out now," the Shaman called to me from within the main chamber.

I pried my focus off of the amazing room, focusing on the Shaman's summon, and finally convinced my legs to lead me out of the sanctuary. The Shaman faced me now, seated on a meticulously crafted cushion. He held a piece of cloth and a spool of rope on his hands, but before I could inquire as to their purpose, he spoke.

"So, tell me what brings you to me," the Shaman requested of me.

He was well aware of the reason for my visit, yet I knew he was intent on letting me explain myself. One of the finest qualities of the Shaman was his ability to be above someone in so many ways, yet make them feel superior still. Perhaps that is the reason he seeks to have others view him as always alone, thinking it will make them believe he is less sought after, thus less important. I may never know. At any rate, I explained the reason for my visit: to embark upon a vision quest to rid myself of my curse. Having one's body trapped at that of eight years old is not a pleasant experience and not one I wished to continue experiencing. It is hard to get people to take you seriously when they think you are but a child. When I was finished, the Shaman nodded his head and stood from the cushion.

"I understand, Child. I have faced many burdens in my life as well." He turned around, pulling an empty jar from a shelf brimming with others. He extended the jar to me and began, "I need a seed. Would you be kind enough to fetch one for me?"

I was a bit startled at first by his brushing off of my problem, but I figured he just needed the seed to help aid me in some way. Contemplative about the broad spectrum the Shaman had left open for me; I took the jar and with a parting word, headed towards the door. As I reached the threshold, the Shaman called out to me:

"Be careful, Child. Expectations can be dangerous."

Perplexed by this odd anecdote upon heading out on a simple errand, I looked back at the Shaman seeking something to compliment his words; yet, there was nothing. As I stepped out the door, I nearly choked on my heart.

***

I stood at the edge of a cliff, one foot extended perilously over the edge. I jumped back immediately, surprised by my environment. I had stepped out of the Shaman's hut; I should have found myself on the pathway before it. Instead, I found myself teetering on the edge of a cliff, Death laughing at my near disaster. I began panicking, thinking I had accidentally walked through a sonic portal or perhaps by some stroke of luck, or lack thereof, I had managed to travel through a worm hole.

"Expectation can be dangerous."

The words fell heavily on my mind. I realized that the Shaman had been subtly alluding to that event, and that he was the cause of my being there. Determined to find the seed he had sent me after, I inched back to the edge of the cliff where I had been deposited, seeking some clue that would lead me to my prize. I lay on my stomach, head stretched over the edge. Below me as vast sea of foliage and undergrowth flourished. The cliff was adorned with similar plant life, only in a much more modest dose. I clung a little tighter to the ground as a swift wind buffeted roughly over me, threatening to toss me over the side. The wind plummeted down the face of the cliff, crashing into the tangled mess below, sending it into an agitated dance.

Suddenly, I felt a hand grasp my shoulder. I leapt up in fear, nearly flying over the cliff's edge, the strong hand being the only thing keeping me from vacationing in the jungle below. I rolled to my back, loosing the hand from my shoulder, my finger outstretched in preparation of cursing the poor sod.

"Whoa there! Lets just put that finger away, shall we?"

The man was a graceful Tsol'aa, his slim body fitted with a dark green cloak. He leaned heavily upon a gnarled staff, his legs apparently too weak to support his weight on their own.

"We are all friends up here," he continued. "There is only one way here, and that is guarded by a man from whom I have the utmost respect. Nobody would make their way here if they were not truly deserving."

This short speech only reaffirmed my suspicion that the Shaman had been the cause of my odd surroundings, and the way he insinuated that I was worthy of being there convinced me to let me guard down. Probably not one of the safest things I have done, but it worked out for this best in this case.

"Well, if we are all friends here, could you help me find a seed?" I asked of him.

"Of course I can. Have a seat," he commanded, beckoning to a small stump.

I followed his lead and took a seat upon the remains of a once gigantic tree.

"That jungle down there was once home to the richest farmer in all of Sapience, Zilan. That plain grew everything from corn and wheat, to cotton and even livestock. Zilan was ‘living large' as they say, he had everything he could dream of: houses in every subdivision, a productive chain of shops throughout all the cities, a wife and family. Anything he wanted, he could buy, spending gold was of no consequence, since pretty much everyone living in Sapience bought some of his products some time or another. His money always came back to him in the end. One day, he was up on this hill much like you are now, although for far different reasons. He was simply basking in the glory of what he had made for himself, languishing in his pride." The man leaned down to a long vine and plucked a small flower resembling a dandelion.

"His invincibility clouding his judgment, he felt the urge to blow upon a flower such as this." He brought the flower to his lips and blew, scattering the hundreds of seeds into the air. "But you see, this is no ordinary plant." He motioned to the seeds that were falling to the ground one by one. As they hit the soft soil, they immediately sprung up, a long vine spreading its tendrils out to claim a home. "By the time he returned to his farm, the plain was covered with the vines, choking out his crops and suffocating all the livestock with their lengthy creepers. He continued living on for awhile off the money he had saved, but without a steady income to support his lavish tastes, he soon found himself at his last straw. He lost everything, including his family. If only he had recognized the true power that lay in the seed, Rurin might be having a run for his money as we speak."

"That was certainly a nice story, but what does that have to do with me finding a seed?" I implored of the man.

He walked to the edge of the cliff, motioning for me to follow which I did. Standing at the edge, we gazed out onto the jungle of vines that had taken over the massive plain below us.

"Well, it has everything to do with it. Perhaps you should heed my words more carefully." His higher-than-thou tone belittling my efforts.

"Not to be rude sir, but I don't even know who you are." I said, prompting him to reveal an identity.

"My friends call me Zilan, and despite what I have learned, I still have that urge to send things off this cliff." With that, he placed a hand on my shoulder and tossed me over the edge of the cliff, out into the open air beyond.

***

I found myself under water; my lungs burning for want of air. I rose upwards, and after an eternity, broke the surface. I felt as if I had been buried under miles of water, yet now I sat at the bottom of a fountain, my head easily above the water. A woman in an azure cloak sat on the edge of the fountain, my presence seemingly unregistered.

"You know, people drink out of this fountain. It might be a little more polite to bathe in a river." She jested, without turning to face me. She had wings as white as snow, the feathers fluttering softly in the cool breeze. Gorgeous chestnut hair flowed down between her wings, glinting in the sunlight that shone down from above. At that moment, I believed it would be impossible for any god to have given a creature with such a beautiful frame anything other than the most beautiful face in all of Sapience.

Embarrassed by the comment, I pulled myself from the cold water and sat beside the woman, still unable to see her face.

"Excuse me ma'am, but perhaps you can help me find a seed?" I inquired, assuming that she would be able to help me just as the elderly man had.

"A seed you say? I have a wonderful story…" she responded, her voice drifting delicately in the cool air. "Long ago, centuries before the Selucarian Empire was even thought of, there were the primitive beginnings of our current reality. A few small plants, some basic animals, nothing close to the complexities of today. Anyway, for some reason, the whole of Sapience was covered in ice, an "Ice Age" the ancients called it. Everything froze and died. After nearly a century, the ice thawed, revealing a barren desert of a continent. One small seed persevered the catastrophe, a catastrophe that had leveled everything else on the continent. The seed eventually found its way into the deserted landscape. Its small body contained the restoration of life, and with the warmth returning to the land, it released its power and began to grow. The first plant after the ice age; the ancestor of all plants today."

"I see. That was a lovely story, but it doesn't seem to help me much." I explained. "I am looking for an actual seed, not stories about one."

"Have a look in the fountain."

I still could not see the woman's face, but from her tone, I inferred that she was smiling, or at least cheerful. I leaned down, peering into the crystal clear water, and then I felt the woman's smooth hands upon my neck, forcing my head below the water.

***

When I was released, I pulled my head up, only to find myself standing before the Shaman's hut. Nervous about returning without the seed the Shaman had requested; I gathered my courage and entered.

"You have my seed, yes?" the Shaman asked.

I stumbled over a few words, trying to compose a plausible explanation, but luckily I was cut short.

"Behind the tapestry," the Shaman ordered.

I made my way behind the tapestry and through the small crevice, finding myself back in the ornate ritual chamber. It was just as dark as every other time I had entered, yet now it was more oppressive. I had failed the Shaman, not being able to bring him a simple seed. I had returned with naught but a couple stories. Grief filled my body as I knelt down before the altar.

I could feel the ritual circle spring to life around me, the room having been consecrated for constant rituals. I knew there was something more to the episodes that I faced in my search for the seed. Removing a bundle of incense from my cloak and lighting it with the ethereal flame of the candles, I sat patiently, letting the room fill with the aromatic haze.

"Master, I implore thee, guide my mind and steady my soul that I may understand the events that occurred."

The candles upon the altar flared, their light growing brighter and piercing deep into the darkness of the room. Their flickering flames cast odd shadows about the room, causing the statue of Lord Thoth to gain the appearance of moving. The candles slowly died out, until their light disappeared completely. I sat in the darkness, awaiting whatever the Master saw fit to provide me with.

A soft breeze swept through the room, carrying whispered secrets along its currents. The wind grew in intensity along with the secrets, until my cloak was buffeting torrent of cloth, the words echoing in my mind.

"If only he had recognized the true power that lay in the seed"

"One small seed persevered the catastrophe, a catastrophe that had leveled everything else on the continent."

My world fell silent as my mind opened and I realized the intent of the day's events.

"Thank you, my Lord. I am ever grateful."

I rose from knees, the candles returning to their inward glow. As I exited the sanctuary, I found the Shaman sitting upon the elegant cushion, a jar sitting in his lap. I recognized the jar as the one he had given me to collect the seed. I would have suspected he was about to chastise me for not returning with the seed if the ever-gracious Lord Thoth had not blessed me with understanding.

"Thank you for the seed, Child." He said as he rose to place the jar atop a shelf. Slightly confused, despite my realization of the purposeful day, I glanced at the jar and saw a lifelike doll of myself sitting within its clear walls. "This will do."

I left the hut, content with the curse that I now properly identified as a blessing. I have a true power inside of my small frame, and no one can take that away from me.