Courage Plumb
Two days after leaving the DAFs, the JRB proceeded along the dusty riverbed of the aptly named Dry River. Light-hearted conversations abounded. They are ate and drank from the provision provided by their Verve Valley compatriots. Tales from the previous week, and specifically, the youths told and retold tales about their unique bond with the Disinherited. While most anecdotes often slip into exaggeration via continual re-telling, those who lived through these events needed to exaggerate the previous week’s encounter – events so compelling needed no hyperbole. In conveying the stories, the group cemented the experience in their minds. While each person lived through the nearly incomprehensible events of the previous days, the experience seemed real only in hindsight. At the time, the travelers simply reacted to events surrounding them; they lacked the time to process the unimaginable encounter of working together to serve – and then receiving kindness from – the most repulsive creatures. In the end, a strange bond developed between the life-deprived Disinherited and the compassionate humans. Neither groups seemed to understand the other, but in the exchanging of gifts, glowing orbs for the DAFs and provisions for the JRB a mutual friendship developed.
“Whatever happened to Laghorn?” inquired Rose. “I did not see him after he left on the first day. And what was that he said as he left?”
“Who knows?” bellowed Daks. “He seemed like an angry-ole-beast to me. He needed a hefty jolt of happiness. If he had shown up, he probably would have messed everything up.”
“It seems like there was much more to Laghorn than we realized,” offered Talon. “First, he knew about the Sevens, remember that? He said something like, ‘Only three people know and I am one of them,’ and what else was there? He indicated that he lived in the previous age. How old would someone need to be to have lived in two ages? I am not even sure how long an “age” is, but it must be a long time.”
“And,” interrupted Rose “Laghorn said he was a ‘Child of Inheritance’ as opposed to the DAFS, who were ‘disinherited.’ If any of this makes sense to anyone, please let me know, because I pretty vexed about everything.” Rose looked straight into Willow’s eye with a sense of expectation. Willow, Rose had learned over the last few weeks, was far more than an eleven year-old herbalist who happened to escape capture when the Protectorate captured her village. Willow noted Rose’s glance. Yet, the younger girl said nothing.
“Like, I said,” muttered Daks, “Laghorn’s just an angry ole-beast and good riddance to the grouchy monster.”
On the third day since departing from the DAFs, the traveling troupe looked upon an almost forgotten color. At the horizon, the landscape changed hues. The ubiquitous herbal tones gave way to color of life: green. They finally saw the outlying parameters of the Valley of the Disinherited. Soon after, the JRB saw blue as the vast Glass Sea glistened in the distance. The outfall of Dry River inched closer and closer with each ensuing step. By mid-afternoon, lush grass surrounded the youths, and in the near distance, blossoming shrubs and flowering trees adorned the landscape. Just as the deathbed valley sprang upon the landscape, it disappeared with the same brusqueness. In seemingly an instant, the beauty of everyday life returned with all the fervor with which it disappeared nearly ten days earlier. The Valley of the Disinherited felt like a distant memory.
The dry riverbed, nevertheless, remained just as dry. They shadowed the riverbed’s path through the now lush landscape. After a few hours walk, they reached the outfall of Dry River. The crystal waters of the Glass Sea glistened before them as the dry riverbed abutted the sea. Walking to where the river’s outfall opened into the vast waters, Talon took out a vial and unclasped its lid. He filled it with the dirt from Dry River and refastened the top. The second task was completed.
When Talon returned the vial to his bag, Rose asked for the map, which he handed to her. She unrolled the map, and the others gathered around as she scanned the map for their precise location. Rose then turned to Daks, and asked for a writing pen. The red-haired boy furrowed his brow in an overtly confused look at her request; he wondered how she knew that he possessed a writing pen. He returned his countenance to normal and began excavating his bag. After some time, he finally retrieved the writing tool and handed it to the younger girl. Rose took the pen and next to the label “Expanse,” she neatly inscribed, “Valley of the DAFs, friends of the JRB.” Willow smiled broadly at added new inscription.” Rose tossed the pen to Daks who effortlessly snatched it out the air. She rolled the map and handed it to Talon. Rose’s three companions looked slightly aghast that someone would alter an antiquated, revered document. None of them would ever dare to re-label the map. Noting their disbelieving looks, Rose casually offered, “Maps are for the living, not the dead.”
“Whatever that means,” muttered Daks.
Talon returned the map to his pack while Daks aimlessly tossed the pen into his bag, ensuring that any future need for the pen required another excavation. With the map secured in his pack, Talon looked upon the Glass Sea and spoke, “On to Sporadic Island and the albatross.” Off he went. The others followed silently. No one said what everyone thought, “Two tasks were now completed. One task remained. These tasks were proving quite difficult.
The troupe traveled within sight of the seashore, which made for arduous journey through the sandy, mostly rocky, and always moist terrain. “Crawling through mud would be quicker,” posited Daks during a particular difficult stretch. The others silence offered a tacit agreement. On they trudged, making little progress.
On the second night since the trekkers began paralleling Glass Sea, the four youths chatted aimlessly during their evening meal. The emotional high from Verve Valley experience gradually faded, and the challenges of their current situation – specifically, slow travel and increasingly summer-like warm weather – moved to the mind’s fore. During a pause in their nomadic conversation, Rose finally breached a more challenging topic. “Willow, I have a question for you.”
“What is it?” responded the young girl pleasantly.
“The way refers to ‘the way things should be,’ and the marring refers to things distorted from the way. The marring speaks to the mistakes and flaws in the world, while the way speaks to a world without mistakes.”
“That is what I was taught, Rose,” answered the girl.
Rose continued, “I am wondering about something. Did the DAFS come from the marring or did they come from the way?”
“That’s easy to answer,” said Daks, who actually knew nothing of the girl’s previous conversation. His notion of the marring and the way were limited to the immediate conversation. Despite his limited knowledge of this matter, he eagerly ventured his opinions. “I am no sage, but I know the answer to that question: the Disinherited come from the marring.”
“How do you know that?” questioned Talon, who like his male friend, knew of these topics prior to this discussion.
“Just do. It is obvious, isn’t it?” asked Daks hopefully. “The marring refers to things that are messed up, and as much as I appreciate the hospitality of the DAFs, they are ‘messed up,’ I doubt anyone could argue against that conclusion.”
Willow responded, “I think everyone will agree to that answer. The Disinherited are, perhaps, the best example of the marring. Their existence speaks to the’ exact opposite of perfection,’ which is phrase sometimes use to define the marring in a negation approach.”
“I hate to sound dimwitted,” said Daks, “but what is a negation approach?”
“That is when you defined something based upon what it is not rather than what it is.”
“And how did you find this out?’ queried Daks.
“Let me guess,” interjected Rose. “Your mother told you.”
Willow responded, “Yes, that’s right. How did you …”
Rose interrupted. “Because that how you explain e
very sliver of the copious amounts of weird stuff you know.”
“What does ‘copious’ means?” asked the younger girl.
“What?” asked Rose sarcastically, “Did your mother not teach you that word?”
Talon answer the flesh-weaver’s question in a calm voice, “’Copious’ refers to a large amount of something.” His sister glared at his answered; she, apparently, intended to leave their companion floundering in ignorance.
Rose continued, directing her remarks at Willow and Daks, “So you say the way refers to things that are perfect– like the sunrise?” The companion nodded her head. “And, the marring refers to deviations from way?”
“I have no idea what ‘deviations’ means,” answered Willow in a friendly voice, “But, sure, that sounds right. The way is good, but the marring is bad. I think it helps to keep the idea simple.”
“And,” continued Rose. “You think the DAFs are prime examples of the marring.”
“No idea what ‘prime’ means,” responded Willow amicably. “But sure, that is what I am saying.”
Rose spoke, “So how do you explain their kindness toward us? They fed us and cared for our needs, while we produced the orbs. Their kindness, certainly, was not an example of the marring. In fact, I think their actions exemplify the way, at least from your perspective.”
“They wanted to suck the life from us, just like they did to everything remotely near to their vicinity,” Daks entreated. “If you absorb every twinge of life in your presence, it must reflect the marring. Without life, we die, and these beasts, they drain the life-force from every living thing.”
“Agreed,” said Talon, “but the disinherited are the byproducts of humans, just like us, who recklessly dabbled in the powers of creation. Instead of making beauty, they forged grotesque creature with banal instincts.” Daks and Willow nodded their heads in agreement, while the sister ghastly gaped at her brother’s apparent agreement with their non-related companions. “Yet, despite being miss-created by prideful people, they overcame their deficient instincts and treated us with kindness. How, I ask you, can these creatures represent the marring since they showed us such kindness, especially, since their human builders left them instinctually evil? The disinherited, for just a handful of days, overcame their timeless instincts to devour life, and instead, they showered us with friendship.”
The other said nothing. They each tried to decipher the Talon’s comments, even the speaker who inwardly marveled at his succinct conclusion.
Talon continued, “Humans made them evil, through their arrogant belief that they could create life. Yet, despite the malevolence placed upon them by their crafters, they displayed something the human builders never intended – love for others.”
“Yea,’ began Willow, “I am just telling you what I learned …”
“From your mother,” interrupted Rose.
Willow nodded sheepishly in agreement.
“But,” spluttered the leatherworker, “How can you ignore all their awful instincts? Those things are terrible. They suck the life from all living things: plants, animals, and people. How can you look at that level of evil and only retort, ‘They acted kindly’? As a reminder, they only acted friendly after Rose gave them a present worth an absolute fortune. I like the DAFs, but at their core, they lack kindheartedness.”
Talon responded, “The DAFs were marred – an appropriate word for this instance – by the humans who dabbled recklessly in the ancient arts. Whatever their flaws and I agree, there are many flaws, but these defects come only from the willful, arrogant creator-like actions of their human makers. Despite their despicable nature, these creatures rose above their destiny and showed a kindness beyond their character.”
Daks shrugged, unconvinced by the argument but unwilling to continue the discussion.
Willow quietly walked away, obviously deep in thought. She said nothing.
By the next day, the JRB ignored the previous day’s discussion. The typical musings of the traveling troupe entertained the group.
“What’s next?” asked Talon whimsically.
“What do you mean by that?” said Rose, “You know what is next. We must find the red kite and retrieve the blood from its heart.”
“I know that!” cracked Talon.
“Then why did you ask, ‘What’s next?’ Generally, I do not pepper others with questions to which I already know the answer.”
Talon continued, “I mean, Rose, what’s next for us?” Talon paused just long enough for Rose to begin another protest before he continued speaking. “After the albatross, when we return to our village, what happens then? I mean, we are on this trek to collect the items needed to destroy the glowing weapons of the Protectorate’s Crimson Guard, but really, what happens when we waltz back into our village? We cannot simply expect to arrive and have everyone welcome our return, can we?”
The others said nothing.
“Oh, so great to see you Talon, Rose, Daks, and strange girl,” Talon jibed sarcastically. He continued in a singsong voice best suited for children’s rhymes, “Glad you have returned from your little adventure. I just can’t wait to read your memoirs. Now, let’s mix up that little concoction of yours and take on the Crimson Guard. Those highly trained soldiers bearing the most formidable weapons in all of Centage – and by the way, thanks for supplying them – are but insignificant irritants to us now that you and your teen-age brigade has returned to our village.” Talon paused for a moment and then addressed the group directly, this time in his regular voice, “Shall I go on?”
“I get the point. I hadn’t really thought about it,” whispered a despondent Rose.
Willow, never one to wilt, responded to all of them, “Talon is right. Who know what is going to happen when we return to your village? But, that is not today’s problem. If there is anything we learned on this journey, it is this: life is full of surprises. Who thought Daks could survive the fall from the ice cliff? Let’s be honest. His innards looked like red root soup, and yet, Daks walked away from that horrific event without even a scratch. And what should we say about our encounter with the Disinherited? Enough said. Sure, Talon, you can worry about what happens when we return to your village, and from what I have seen thus far in my time with you, I expect another unpleasant situation. Hear this, though, I have seen too much to cower in fear. A few months ago, I jumped at the sight of my own shadow, but not today. For all the unpleasantness of this journey – and let’s face it, this journey stinks like fresh pooh – I developed courage. I did not find courage; courage found me. I no longer tremble at danger. I no longer fear the darkness of night. The powers of this world – be they human or animal or otherwise – no longer melt my heart. In truth, I am not courageous, but at his point, I act with valor, not because of who I am, but because circumstances demand it. So, Talon, do forgive me that I show no worries about what happens when we arrive at your village.”
Daks shrugged, “That is one tough girl.”
“Yea, what she said,” offered Rose.
“Do you remember,” asked Talon, “how Laghorn mentioned the power of the Sevens?”
Of course, everyone remembered. Talon, obviously, used this question to initiate a conversation relating to the Sevens. Not willing to answer a polite “yes” to the rhetorical query, Daks breathlessly offered, “Nope, next question.”
Rose laughed. Talon, too intent upon his thoughts to recognize the humor, ignored the older boy’s response and continued with his statement. “Do you guess we tapped into the Sevens when Rose and Willow formed the ice axe? I mean, how else could you explain how they were able to combine their powers?”
The others said nothing. All of them, except for maybe Daks, who displayed a near holistic apathy toward the ancient arts, wrestled with this question. In mentioning this matter, Talon put words to the other’s thoughts. Rose and Willow, nevertheless, shied away from this discussion.
Both felt unease at unwittingly engaging in an activity that Laghorn deemed evil. Neither, when forming the glowing ice axe on Five-Point Peak sensed evil, but both silently wondered whether they – albeit unknowingly – violated the code concerning misuses of the ancient arts.
After letting the question linger unanswered for a bit, Rose responded, “I suppose we did, Talon. But how was I to know what we were doing was wrong?”
Three sets of eyes turned toward Willow in a sense of expectation. Their peering looks all conveyed the same concern, “Did Willow know about evils associated with her actions prior to taking them? And if so, where did she learn the means to manipulate her gifts like that?”
Willow finally answered their gaze, “I never heard the term ‘Sevens’ used before Laghorn, but … I did know ancient arts have companions, at least that is what I was taught by my mother.”
“Companions?” asked Talon, “Please, elucidate.”
Willow looked blankly at Talon. The word “elucidate” eluded her.
He rephrased the question, “Could you shed some light on ‘companions’?”
“I would but I am afraid you are going to bend it,” chirped Willow. Everyone laughed at the joke. She continued, “Every ancient art has two companion abilities: one they serve and one that serves it.”
Willow stopped. Apparently, she thought this a sufficient explanation. Daks bowed in a demur but playful manner to Talon as if to say, “I got this for you.” Turning to Willow he asked, “Please, elucidate.”
“Oh,” muttered Willow, “you really know so little about the ancient arts. I wonder why your dad never told you more.
“Maybe because he was too busy hiding the book with all the secrets,” said Rose defensively.
“My apologies, I did not intend to offend your father. It is just that …” Willow paused. She realized that regardless of how she finished that sentence that her remarks would be construed as derogatory, she opted to say nothing more concerning Talon and Rose’s father.
Willow continued, “Well, as I said, each of the ancient arts has two companions, the greater and the lesser. For example, flesh-weaving forms a bond with sun-sculpting and root-springing. In relation to sun-sculpting, flesh-weaving serves as the greater – meaning that the manipulation of light benefits the healing potential. For example, I tap into the power of light to accomplish some tasks necessary for healing – like pulling an Isigor Root.” Willow caught Rose’s eyes as if to acknowledge the event witnessed by the older girl. The younger lass continued, “Simply stated, I can heal more efficiently when using the power of light, but in respects to root-springing, flesh-weaving serves as the lesser, which means a root-springing can tap into the healing capacities when they spring roots – but I am not sure exactly what that means. Thus, a flesh-weaver serves as both a greater and a lesser, greater in relation to sun-sculpting and lesser in relation to root-springing.”
“Well, well, well,” cracked Daks. “You are full of surprises little girl.” Willow said nothing but her contorted face revealed displeasure at the remark. Daks continued with an astute observation, “And that make four.”
“Four what?” asked Rose.
“Four ancient arts: sun-sculpting, flesh-weaving, root-springing, and fire-seeing. Thus, we now know four of the seven ancient arts, and I suspect, if, the other three are listed somewhere in the book Talon continues to tote around and read late at night.” Daks, of course, spoke of the Book of Epiphany.
“And why do I think Willow knows the other three?” Rose quietly added to Daks. He nodded in agreement.
Talon, whose intense focus on Willow’s revelation concerning the lesser and the greater aspects of the ancient arts caused him to not hear the ensuing conversation, finally verbalized his thought, “So,” he said speaking more to himself than anyone else, “Sun-sculpting has two partners among the ancient arts. We know it serves as a lesser to herbal-healing. Thus, it must serve as a greater to something else, but what, I wonder? And, once we know, we can likely expand out sun-sculpting ability.”
“Perhaps,” offered Rose, “but as a reminder my-ever-curious brother, Laghorn showed great displease at the expansion of powers. Do you remember him mentioning the Sevens? I am still not sure what he was talking about except that it most certainly involved combing the ancient arts like the ingredients of a recipe. Let’s keep that in mind before we get too excited about expanding our sun-sculpting abilities.”
“I know,” countered Talon, “I am just want to know more about our ability.”
“If you want to know more,” said Rose, “Keep reading the Book of Epiphany rather than trying to learn from the disconnected statements of an eleven-year old.”
Good advice, thought Talon. The ancient book possessed the truths he needed, whereas the statement of Willow were tantalizing but whether through her own ignorance or via an intentional withholding, Willow’s comments distracted Talon from ascertaining the truth of the Book of Epiphany. While he continued to decipher the text, he acknowledged to himself, that since they left Five-Point Peak, his motivation waned. While he learned how to undo the coagulation of light that resulted from sun-sculpting, the book possessed much more information. As Rose advised, the wiser course of action seemed to focus on ascertaining all he could from the book that propelled this journey, the Book of Epiphany.
As Talon walked on, he thought, “root-springing?” He simply added to the many questions that had mounted on this journey. Perhaps at another time, Talon would have asked endless questions about this new revelation, but at present, his overloaded mind enjoyed the silence.
For three full days, the JRB traveled along the seashore. No one remembered how many days they originally projected for this journey, but whatever the amount, they guessed the trip to the red kite would be much longer than they originally thought.
Resting around the fire one night, Talon asked the group, “What do you think we will encounter on Sporadic Island? Do you think the red kite is just some bird the flies around the island or something?” The question hung in the air. Everyone knew that in answering the question, they concluded the respite that began with their departure from the Disinherited. Talon realized this as well, but he was anxious to begin the final task. Their journey possessed a very clear purpose: destroy the glowing arsenal of the Protectorate, and while they benefited from rest, Talon feared their collect courage would wane without ongoing challenges. He knew the final task likely presented the greatest challenge, although he let the belief remain unspoken. With his renewed effort in studying the Book of Epiphany, he realized these tasks functioned as challenges. Whoever first developed sun-sculpting (and what a good question that is) – at least in Talon’s growing belief – could have engineered anything to unlock the glowing properties: a speck of dirt, a daffodil’s petal, or a crow’s feather. For whatever the reasons, however, the sun-sculpting originator believed a set of challenges best served the purpose.
With Talon’s question about Sporadic Island still lingering unanswered, Daks interrupted the silence, “Consider this, the first task required courage, while the second necessitated love – how else could we have developed a friendship with the Disinherited. I venture the next challenge requires some other attribute.”
“There must a way to know,” said Willow, whose contribution to the conversation surprised the others. Despite their time together, she seldom began or voluntarily entered into conversations. She politely answered their queries but typically answered with guarded words.
“There must be,” agreed Talon, “but what is it?”
Willow remarked, “Look at the two attributes that we know – courage and love – perhaps they will guide us. The two qualities we know must somehow connect to the unknown attribute. Together, the three qualities are a completion of something.”
“I have heard those words together, courage and love,” reflected Rose, “But where? And wh
at came after it?”
“Me, too,” said Talon. “It seems like something I should know, but I just can’t seem to remember it.”
“I’ve got it!” bellowed Daks, “I know where you can find those two words. I can’t believe neither of you can remember it but I can.” Daks went on for some time in exuberance, but all the while, he neglected to enlighten the others.
Finally, when he paused to catch his breath, Rose interrupted the giddy youth, “Great, Daks! But we do not have a clue what you are T-A-L-K-I-N-G about. Maybe you could T-E-L-L us!”
“Oh,” said Daks sheepishly. He continued, “Well, back in the village, in your workshop, an old sign hangs above the door, and it reads, ‘Courage – Love – Wisdom. I remember seeing it when I was in shop and waiting for Talon to finish a project – and waiting and waiting and waiting. It took all afternoon for Talon to go from ‘almost finished’ to ‘done.’ All the while, I sat there with nothing to do, except read the door signs … and devise a plan for dealing a mysterious, and quite intimidating, bison-headed creature who was created by the Sevens in the previous age.”
Everyone giggled.
“The old sign that hangs on the door,” said Rose. “I see it so much that I forgot it was even there. The thing is so old. It looks like it belonged to our great-great-great grandmother or something.”
Talon confirmed, “That thing is old, but Daks is absolutely right. It reads ‘Courage – Love – Wisdom.’ Granted, it has faded over the last few hundred years.”
Rose added, “The connection between our trip and that sign is no coincidence. Let’s be honest, without that sign, we would not know the attribute needed to pass the final test: wisdom. I find that peculiar.”
“I find the whole trip peculiar,” murmured Daks. “But, yea Rose, you’re right. We are way beyond coincidence.”
“The longer I am on this trek,” declared Talon, “the more it seems someone knew long ago about the necessity of this mission. Just think, all the information we are relying upon existed long ago. Someone just needed to gather the information in one place to begin the process of destroying all glowing goods.”
“Well,” offered Willow in a tone set upon moving the discussion forward, “are we all in agreement that ‘wisdom’ will be tested? And if so, what does that mean?”
“Ancient arts, sevens, death-deprived beasts,” droned Rose, “Book of Epiphany, glowing orbs, near-death experience, archaic maps, deciphering codes, lifeless landscape, and amazing vistas, what else can I say? I guess this is what I get for complaining that nothing ever happens in our village. I’ll never describe my life as boring again, will I?”
“I suppose not,” offered Talon.
“Well, I for one,” said Willow, “think our trip is much more exciting than living alone in an abandoned village. And,” she paused for a moment and continued, “I am having fun. You three are pretty much the only friends I ever had. Not easy being the village freak, you know?”
Rose walked over to the younger girl and put her arm on Willow’s shoulder. She then joked, “I wouldn’t know, Willow, but maybe we could ask Talon?” Talon astutely ignored the innocent jab. Willow laughed. She liked having friends. Daks just grunted and ignored the interplay between the others.
17 SPORADIC ISLAND