Vignette - The Mountain and the North Wind

The North wind danced and cavorted by day only to rage and scream that very night. Without pattern or reason she played amongst the great peaks. Mountains whose heights pierced the very roof of the world. They stood supreme above the firmament, daring to tread where nothing could live. Not even snow was safe as the chaotic and unforgiving wind ripped the white clothing from their stone bodies in veils of crystalline spray.

The mountains were lofty, and arrogant in the power that firm foundations can bring. They had stood tall for an entire age, and were situated to do the same for several more.

They stood beneath the weathering, but despite their power they could do nothing about it. Nothing can restrain the winds. And so they were stripped, struggled and strived to reclothe themselves in clouds and fresh white wash only to be disrobed once more. A partnership between the uncompromising old and dignified earth and the eternally young and erratic winds. A partnership where the wind spoke without thought and the mountains listened without care.

“Play with us!” Demanded the winds.

The world shuddered as, at last, one giant earthen spike responded. Proto limbs of rock clumsily flung their load of snow into the swirling gale. Tracing for a brief moment a dancing figure, there one moment, gone the next. The winds laughed in glee as the mountain struggled against its instincts. To move rather than to hold.

He lofted another spray of snow, desperate as he had never been before, to see that figure but one more time. To feel its ever moving extremities and participate, even for a moment in its joyful eternal refrain. A joy so different from the placid weight of ages unmoving.

If life could not live at these heights, who decided what made life life?

In complete disregard for labels, here for an instant, was love.

Chapter 41

“Root it out! Completely before it spreads further!” Jenney spewed. Timothy imagined her face gnashing and frothing at the mouth to fit with the severe, furious tone she employed. Unfortunately no such outrageous, and entertaining, facial expressions were in evidence. Her face was fixed in an artificial poker mask. One that he imagined bore a few cracks.

“How pray tell? I love you daughter and would move mountains to make you happy. But I don’t have any way of doing so this time. Nor, I suspect, do you. Don’t let your anger deprive you of sense.”

Timothy had to tune them out for a bit. Similar outbursts and responses had been occurring since he walked in. The only thing he hadn’t seen was progress!

Why, oh why, did he have to cave so easily to Ma. Showing up fashionably late would not have hurt anything. It was not like the first hour or so of conversation were likely to lead anywhere. He was missing out on so much to listen to this pointless crap.

The way pure attributeless magic pulsed in time to an unheard beat, seperating sections of mixed elemental flows and yet still connecting them into a cohesive hole...

“-ine then. What do you suggest we do Da? We clearly can’t ignore this.” The deep rumble of Regi’s voice cut through the scatterlings of high pitched grumbles with ease and snapped Timothy's attention back to Earth, or New Earth at least. “We’ve been amiacably competing for the resource of belief, but this might take that competition a step farther. With the exception of those in this room,” His eyes darted to Timothy, Jenny and Garreth. “Everyone in Runehold with magical abilities also has a magically binding loyalty to the community. Once someone is bound to the Brotherhood by belief they awaken as Guardians. With all the power that offers, but also with the restraints embodied in the concept of loyalty.”

“I have to assume that Bensen might be able to do the same, but any restraints he might impose would not be to our benefit.”

Dammit… another unpleasant truth.

“Agreed son, agreed. But what would you have us do? Forbidding religion doesn’t usually work.” That understatement was a bit hard to swallow for Timothy. History was ripe with small religions that exploded in prominence due to persecution. From christianity to mormonism.

The trick was to see how much of what was true without magic was still true with it. It was a question that kept coming up and the answers were always out of reach. Could they trust lessons learned from a history in a completely different world? Timothy doubted it, but it was hard to argue without proof. Proof that would be decades or centuries in coming.

“Enough!” Ma spoke into the short silence. “This is going nowhere at the moment. We all know what's going on. And I trust we all at least agree that it is a problem?” She paused for the rumble of agreement to spread around the room, “Then let's table this for now. Give everyone a bit of time to think about it and we can meet back up again tomorrow. Hopefully with some potential solutions.”

Please, dear god above that I don’t believe in, let them agree to this… My poor abused ass….

“Fine.” Jenney quickly stood up and stomped out of the room. Her anger was at the situation, Timothy was pretty sure, not at any of the council members. Still, he noted the concerned glance his parents shared at her exit.

Garreth stood with considerably greater decorum and followed her from the room after giving out a genial, if exhausted, goodbye.

Having been carefully not the first rat to jump ship, nor even the second, Timothy stood with equal decorum and made his escape from this hellish center of bureaucratic authority. He made sure to not appear too excited at the opportunity. Or at least he attempted as much. The amused glances he caught out of the corners of his eyes might have indicated otherwise.

Still, free at last, he quickly made his way to the unpolluted air of the central courtyard. He took the time to walk a zigzagging path through the gardens at a sedate pace, enjoying the sun and scent of growing things. He had far too much work to do for an extended delay, but, it was a small bit of wisdom to enjoy the moment when it presented itself.

Alas, the moment could not last forever. Eventually he left bright lights and the greenery behind to climb the ladder to his scrying pool. His fingers itched to reactivate the pool and return to the most interesting puzzle of the toadstool ring. They itched but did not act.

“Haaaaa, It sucks to be mature sometimes.” He mumbled to himself with a half hearted sigh. Duty called and he was not a child to forgo essential chores for a bit of entertainment. No, he had something much more important to do. A boundary line had been crossed and an explanation must be sought.

So he turned the pool's destination away from the deep forest and to a small stone on the shore of the river, within easy sight of Templeton.

A bit of long distance carving resulted in a very elaborate, if completely useless rune. Still, it looked impressive and his application of the cutting field had left a pretty noticeable flex to the magic field. He spent a smidgeon of will to fix an intent into the rock. To make it look magical. It would do the trick.

Pulling out a pair of new runes he was at last prepared to beard the egotistical lion in its den. If only to a metaphorical degree.

Activate, Project! And there he was, glancing down he could see the runed stone through the ghostly color of his undyed green pants. The oddly ribbed fibers of what the Runehold residents called jungle cloth were quite distinct. A series of small parallel lines showing where the fibers were joined one to the next, more like the ridges of bamboo than the crosshatch of traditional woven cloth. Unfortunately those aligned ridges also made it less than comfortable at the joints. He was fully clothed, that would be enough.

He raised an arm to see the same image through his arm. The ground behind the ethereal projections of his limbs was tinted green by the color, but was still clearly visible. The projection rune was working as expected.

Spooky! He grinned. But the grin faded as he sighed and prepared for the ordeal in front of him. One last check of his preparations and checked that his other new rune was still active.

He had it linked to each runic connection on the map and It had one simple job. To create distortion. A bit of static noise in the magic field between Runehold and Templeton, and between Runehold and any other potential threat. Undetectable, he hoped, in any particular location, only over a long distance would it become noticeable. A light fog in the air is easy to see through for a conversation with the neighbors. Trying to use a telescope however would not get you very far.

It was an enchantment designed to keep his major advantage solely to himself. He liked to be able to look in on others. He was not such a fool to allow the reverse. Thankfully since he made the obstruction, it was not hard for him to avoid its interference. He was looking from the rune closest to Templeton afterall. Templeton would have to look through the distortion created by around twenty runestone connectors. One for every half mile between them. If anyone wanted to create their own scrying aparati they could still do so. The areas close to their towns would be visible, but the farther they went away from that the less they could see.

He shook his head, quit stalling Timothy! It was time to get this started.

A quick turn of a dial, unseen by his projected eyes but experienced hands knew the way, increased the volume of his projected voice. “Excuse me, could someone inform Bensen that I would like to have a conversation.” His calm, quiet request in Runehold became a raging roar at its destination. Causing noticeable ripples in the river water.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Wincing at the slightest edge of feedback he quickly adjusted the volume. Hearing himself through the pool and his own mouth was less than pleasant. He would have to adjust that later…. Much later. A couple dozen curious heads had poked from the nearest cluster of ramshackle homes. The sight of a ghostly, scraggly, thin young man with an even more scraggly beard and a mop of brown hair was enough to spark an exodus. A veritable hord of messengers sent to do his bidding. Careful, if you let your head get too big Ma might come back to pop it…. He shook those thoughts aside and settled down to wait. This was not a form he could maintain indefinitely, but with a close-by rune linkage to decrease the distance costs a couple hours was not a problem.

It took closer to ten minutes then the five he had expected. Perhaps a would-be god didn’t like the idea of jumping at another's beck and call. At last he came striding down the hill. The afternoon sun clearly wanted to be behind him, shining through his golden, perfectly arranged curls. It wanted to be but, as Timothy had deliberately appeared to the west of the town, it could not. Take that pretty boy!

Small victories. He would take them where he could find them. Because he didn’t imagine the rest of this conversation was going to go that well. Still, a man could hope.

“My, oh my, what do you call a poorly dressed, see through, would be mystic. A ghost? A figment?” Coming to a stop in front of Timothy's cross legged floating figure he paused for a moment to get a good look before continuing. “I believe you call it a Timothy. From what some of the newest members of my congregation have told me, only this Timothy would pull something like this out of his…. Hat.”

His presence was what Timothy remembered, potent and forceful. It pressed at him, urging him to agree, to submit. But he was not play sheep to his shepard and the protections were more than sufficient. The pressure felt like cobwebs against his skin. Noticeable and annoying, but not enough to change his course. “An excellent lead in. You’re correct. I am Timothy, and I would like to discuss these new members with you. Their existence feels something like an invasion from my perspective.” Timothy managed a calm smile despite the small spurt of rage he felt. “It was hardly a neighborly thing to do.”

“Ah, then you are not coming in guns a-blazing? No pointless posturing or overblown threats? Instead it is the polite neighbor to neighbor chat of the American suburbanite. I’m blessed and surprised. So much the better. Yes, I ushered in some poor unwanted souls into my flock. You don’t have cause for complaint. After all, you threw them away. I merely picked up your unwanted human refuse and turned them into useful members of humanity. No need to thank me.”

It had been tempting to make those threats… But that was just his ego speaking. Threats were just warnings in the end. If he really intended to start the music it would be incredibly foolish to let Bensen know ahead of time. No, there would be no pointless threats, no warnings. “Not thrown away, Bensen, we merely made an attempt to modify their attitudes. Call it gentle pressure. Pressure that your poaching has completely removed.”

“Ah, that’s where you are wrong. Self determination. That is one of your big things is it not. That people must make their own choices? I read those rules you were kind enough to carve into stone. You call me arrogant I hear? But then you go about recreating the ten commandments in your own image. Pot meet kettle.”

Thankfully I never cared about those laws. Entirely Pa’s creation. Still, he is not completely wrong.

Suppressing a smile at the comparison, Timothy had to push them back on track. “Sure, sure, but you said we were wrong. By all means continue.”

A small flaring of the nose was the only change in expression Bensen had as his shaft missed the mark. “Of course, I did not ‘poach’ your men. That implies that I sought them out. But they came looking for me. Apparently you left some purifying incense lying about. They made their prayers, I merely granted them.”

Balls… Easy enough to check and likely true. Timothy had wondered how Bensen projected himself into the hold through multiple layers of defenses. The answer was he didn’t. He didn’t have to. Those idiots invited him in, bypassing everything! He would have to find a way to close that loophole. Suppressing the urge to grind his teeth he deliberately relaxed his muscles and let out a small sigh. “I am glad that you didn’t push your way in. Still it feels a bit like a drug dealer claiming he didn’t seek his customers out and that they didn’t have to buy from him.”

“First poacher, now drug dealer? What do you think of me, Timothy? I heard oh so many unpleasant rumors recently. Rapist? Mindbender? So many baseless accusations being bandied about. I admit I’m somewhat unhappy with you and yours.”

“Rumors will always fly about Bensen. Like smoke on the wind, they are rarely accurate but often point to a fire. Baseless? Let's disregard the drug dealer question. Are you really claiming that you don’t adjust the minds of your flock? It wasn’t exactly hidden from our last group of traders. As for the rapist charge I’ll admit that is an unproven accusation. The smoke comes from a real fire though. You seem to be rather free with your subordinate’s wives. Considering your power and authority it’s not out of the bounds of reason to say that they had little choice in the matter.“

“Do I adjust the minds of my followers to aid them in surviving and staying happy in this new world? Yes I do. Do I force it on them? Of course not. I don’t have too. People come begging me for help. After all, who does not want to be happy?”

His piercing eyes became all the sharper as he dared Timothy to disagree. “They are, by the way. Happy. Unlike your Runehold, where a significant portion of your population is marginalized and feels mistreated. I offer people an escape from the pressures and dangers this world brings. So much different from your accusations of force.”

“The same applies to your claims of rape. You say that no one can deny me so it must be rape? Is consent not possible then? What bullshit. Have you not spent a night with a woman since the fall? Was that then rape since you are in charge? Enough of that nonsense. I know you Americans are prudish by nature but still. Even you must recognize that this logic does not follow.”

Prudish hmm? There was something wrong with his logic… yet Timothy couldn’t put his finger on it… dammit. He knew what he saw. A cliche saying that was often so very wrong. He saw but did he really have all the facts? There was no evidence to back up the assumptions… and no one from Templeton would admit to anything of the kind. No point in pursuing a failed vector.

“As you please. We are getting a bit far afield. The issue at present is your questionable actions in accepting converts from a people not your own. I grant that you didn’t seek them out. They asked you. Still, you accepted them. That is hardly a neighborly thing to do. Humanity is having enough difficulty keeping itself alive in these trying times. It doen’t help to have to watch my back from a fellow human. It would not be good for either of us if this escalated into a full blown conflict. Why are you pushing what you have to know is going to be seen as an invasion?”

“You answer your own question, Timothy. Humanity is having a difficult time surviving. I am the solution to this problem. Look at my city, do they fear the wilds? No. Do they regularly die defending it from assaults? Again no. All of this is something every human should enjoy. Should and Will.”

Timothy was shocked, almost speechless at the sheer chutzpah of the statement. “And we are chopped liver? Incapable of keeping them safe without your help?”

“Exactly. I am glad you can see it. Afterall. How many names do you have on your obelisk? I haven’t had a death in my town since we first established it.” Timothy noted that statement, even if true, left him a great deal of wiggle room. There were considerably fewer people in his group then was expected. “I can clearly offer something much better than you or any other small settlement, huddled underground, on cliffs or behind creepy walls. My people enjoy this world without any self imprisoning walls. I alone am enough to protect them and since I can do so, I have a duty to spread that state of safety far and wide.”

It was amazing what the man could say with complete sincerity. The force of his personality, and no little bit of ambient magic attempting to force agreement with his outrageous claims. “And I suppose this area isn’t big enough for the rest of us poor incompetent wizards hmm?”

“Now don’t get your back up. Nothing could be farther from the truth. There is plenty of room in my new empire for such as you. I recognize and applaud your efforts in making the new world more comfortable. It’s convenient but not necessary. You are clearly but a man, your goals are not properly aligned. But I am so much more than a man, and can fix that for you.”

“So much more. Would being delusional be a part of that? Do you really think yourself a god?”

“You doubt me, I see it. Let me turn this back to you. In a new world where man can aspire to be anything they want, why don’t YOU aspire to divinity? I will become a god. I have aimed for the very stars and set out a path to reach them. What have you aimed for?”

“You aimed for comfort! Sewage, baths and easy food. I admit you have made impressive progress on that path. A veritable giant in the playground. But it IS merely a playground. You lack grand ambitions. That is fine, join me and I will make up for your lack. Our purposes are not antithetical. You can continue your goals of making a comfortable new world with my blessing and support. It is a world I would love to live in! I meanwhile will deal with those pesky assaults, guarantee your safety and provide the leadership you are solely lacking. The guidance required to make something from this world worth living in!”

...Wow. Aimed for comfort indeed! Timothy snickered, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Timothy did aim for comfort. It provided the fuel that allowed him to advance as a wizard. But Bensens understanding was limited by the status of his converts. None of them had access to council meetings. They didn’t know of Runeholds goals or plans. He had some of the broad strokes but none of the reasoning or subtleties that played into those decisions. He saw a little and assumed he knew all. Arrogance. Personally I would prefer stupidity! Timothy misquoted, with a faux french accent ringing in his head.

Still, Bensen has a point about aiming for the sky. Timothy reminded himself not to discount the good points just because they came from a megalomaniac. How many humans were being held back by misplaced humility from daring to become so much more.

That was the most devilish problem with Bensen. None of his comments had been without truth. But also none of them had been fully true. Enough truth to make arguing difficult. Enough truth to be seductive. Invite him in, give up your cares, live in dreams and memories of better times while he takes your belief and makes a new world in his image.

But did Timothy want to live in that world? Where one man held all the power and the rest ate lotuses? No personal growth, no risk, no progress? No! No, that world would not do. Sure, given the opportunity a large portion of humanity would eat and fuck itself to death. Free choice was not inherently noble. But without it how would the self chosen few stand out and find greatness?

“You are committed then? You will not remove your presence from Runehold?”

“Freedom Timothy. I will turn no one away. Humanity needs my protection and if they ask for it. Prey for it. They shall receive it!”

With another sigh Timothy decided to end the conversation. “I will think on your words. Good evening, Bensen.”

“Good evening, Timothy.” and with a last victorious smile Bensen reached down to pick up the runed rock, half hidden as it was amongst the other stones on the river bank. He lifted it up as his smile became a smirk, then crushed it into dust. Timothy cut the connection in time with his actions.

Let him enjoy his victories, fake and otherwise. Timothy was honest enough with himself to admit that he did not win in their verbal fencing. But fooling Bensen with the runed rock felt pretty good. He sighed and suppressed both feelings. Giving up on ego ment more than just allowing himself to be seen as slightly silly when it was needed. It meant not worrying about having the last word or winning arguments. Nor the satisfaction of a successful trick. The goal was to learn about their neighbors intentions. He had succeeded in this goal. Let Bensen crow as he pleased.

Back in his tower, in mind and not just body, he sighed. He hadn’t expected that conversation to go well.

His expectations were still much too high.