An Unexpected Turn

 

Twilight, in a deep forest, on the edge of a meadow stood a small man. The breeze brought forth the musty smell of the waning of winter, and the promised chill of early spring.  Standing motionlessly, he struggled to feel it . . . sense it . . . was it there?  He nervously fingered a piece of meat in his pocket while gingerly sitting upon the ground.  There he sat that night into the early morn, eyes closed and concentrating.  “Reach with your mind,” said Ta’ak in his thoughts.  He remembered his Ru’ul saying, “Open your heart and allow your true feelings to be the path on which it treads.”  Other memories, of the pride shining on his parents faces when Ta’ak had told them of his desire to teach their son.  So close, he thought . . . maybe their expectations of me are too high.  Images began to flow through his mind, his past, present, and the hoped-for future, all blending into a stream of consciousness.  As his mind flowed, an urgent buzzing sensation crept up from the base of his skull into his brain, and felt as if it exploded out through his brow.  While he puzzled this new and wonderful sensation, he noticed that his hand had a weight upon the palm.

 

Before he opened his eyes, he knew what he would see.  The toad was large enough to fill his palm, and it also filled a spot inside him that he did not previously know was empty.  His mind raced with sensation.  His blood was pounding through his veins as if his heart had only that moment learned how to beat.  His eyes and ears were taking in the sights and sounds of the meadow with renewed vigor.  He had not been told that such things would come to pass!  The toad blinked an eye.

 

A sound:  he stood and turned, and saw a misshapen figure melt out of the shadows.  His eyes had the appearance of a giant cat’s, and a huge hump was clearly visible under his cloak, though the man stood upright easily enough.

 

“Pe’el!”  he cried.  He had never been so happy to see the strange spellcaster.  “See the companion I have brought to me!”  He laughed, nervously.  “I did not require meat, after all!”

 

The older man stood over a foot and a half taller than the full-grown youth before him, including his hump.  His eyes betrayed no secrets.  “Apparently not,” he said, after a pause.

 

Kneeling, and placing his hands around the one upon which the toad still placidly sat, Pe’el began to make croaking sounds.  The toad caught a fly, and then made similar noises in return.  Bowing slightly towards the toad, Pe’el stood.  “Kor, it is not my place to make introductions.  You know this creature far better than I would be able,” he said as he motioned towards the toad.  He appeared as if he meant to continue with his thought when he cocked his head as if listening to something unheard by man or toad.  “Kor, the Verdant Lord and Lady call upon you, go now with your  . . . friend . . . they await you outside the Granilium.”  With his last word, Pe’el turned and stepped into a nearby tree, and disappeared.

 

Upon arriving, Kor found the Verdant Lord Granilium Ta’ak, his master, and the Verdant Lady Granilium Ru’ul awaiting him just outside the Granilium.  The Granilium appears to most as a stand of very large trees with ebony bark and leaves that are similar to Oak.  What distinguishes the leaf of the Granilium from Oak is the vibrant shade of green and the slender silver lining that surrounds the edge of the leaf.  Kor knew that this night he would at last be allowed to enter the Granilium itself; to at last become Ko’or.  As he approached, toad in hand, Granilium Ru’ul gasped as she brought a hand to her mouth and clasped her husband’s arm with the other.

 

“My love; his power has grown. . .” but her look was troubled.

 

Bending down towards the toad, Granilium Ta’ak held his hand before the creature, who appeared to ignore it.  His hand brushed Kor’s, and the flesh had the roughness of bark to it.  As he stood, Kor could see a look of consternation upon his master’s face.  Clasping his protégé’s shoulder, he said, “Amid three days’ search with no sleep and plagued with self-doubt, you have found something within yourself.  We are . . . pleased that you have come into your own.”

 

Kor looked at both the Verdant Lord and Verdant Lady of the grove, as he absentmindedly stroked the toad.  “Thank you, Verdant Granilium Ta’ak, Verdant Granilium Ru’ul.  But something trouble you . . . have I not done well?”

 

“You have blossomed during your time of turning, Kor. . .  this turning has lead you to a path divided…a choice.”  Granilium Ru’ul continued, “We have known since Ta’ak found you wandering unclothed in our wood, seeking the secrets of our order with the impetuousness of youth, that you had the potential to tap into great power.  But we have not foreseen the path that you shall follow.”

 

Kor hesitated.  “I await your insight.” 

 

Granilium Ta’ak continued in where his wife left off.  “Kor, the ritual of turning is the final test before you may enter the grove of the Granilium.  You must demonstrate that the creatures of nature shall become your loyal companions; that they recognize that you number among them.”

 

Kor looked down at the toad in his hand.  “Does this toad not sit here as testament to this fact?  I do not understand, Ta’ak.”

 

Granilium Ru’ul and Ta’ak looked at one another.  Ru’ul continued, gently, “Kor, it is true that toads are among the creatures of Gaea.  But this toad did not come to you out of a desire for friendship.  Rather, it has bonded with you on a far deeper level.”

 

“This is not my companion?” Kor asked.  Unsure of himself, he looked younger than his eighteen years in the light of the rising moon.

 

Granilium Ta’ak explained.  “There is power within you, Kor . . . what you have done was not done by tapping into Gaea’s bounty.  You have bound with this toad, not as companion, but as familiar.  You have drawn upon reserves within yourself to do this thing.”

 

As Kor listened, comprehension crept over his face.  “So my power . . . is within?  I am not to be Ko’or?”

 

“No, you are not yet Ko’or.  But, as Pe’el turned from his books arcane to the ways of Gaea, so you can bolster your innate talents and enter the Granilium.  It would but take more time.”

 

A brief look of disgust, and then a smile crept over Kor’s face as he stroked his toad.  “Verdant Lord and Lady, you have helped me realize my potential when my family would have had me picking strawberries or selling wax.  I have learned from you for three years.  But tying myself to the land as has Pe’el shall not be my fate.”  Ta’ak and Ru’ul waited patiently as he gathered his thoughts.  “My mother’s mother was opposed to me coming to you.  She said that if I were of the Blood I would have no need of learning . . . and if I was not than you could teach me nothing of worth.

 

“Nir was wrong about what I could learn here . . . your knowledge and kindness I will carry with me until the end of my days.  But I see now that my path does not lie within the Granilium.  My power is, and has been, within.”

 

Ta’ak’s face fell at these words.  “Kor, we are not seeking to dissuade you from the Grove . . .”

 

Kor interrupted.  “I understand, Ta’ak.  You wish for me to complete my training, and become more than you thought I would be.  But I cannot do so . . . if I am of the Blood, I must learn what this means.  I cannot commit further to the Granilium without knowing what I am to do with this gift.  My path must turn from yours, if only for now.”

 

 “Where will you go, young Kor?” asked Granilium Ru’ul, her emerald eyes the only testament to her sadness.

 

“Some two moons past, I sought out the gypsy whose tongue massages the very skein of fate.  I ventured within the place where Cattalinia spins threads that ensnare any who listen, but I knew I was not yet ready to stay and listen to her tales.  I may, in time, seek out that place once again . . . but first, I wish to spend time learning about myself.  There is much I do not yet know.”

 

“Kor, go in the peace of the Granilium.  By Gaea’s will, you shall return to us, in time.”

 

 

Some time later, on the outskirts of a ruined castle, at the edge of twilight, Kor sees a dwelling amongst the ruins, smoke rising from its chimney.  As he approaches, toad tucked safely within his robes, a creaking sign is heard swinging over the door.  The Sign reads Caer Falken Inn.  Kor is reassured by the warmth of his familiar as he reads it.  Without a look back, Kor silently prays to the god he dare not name as he pushes the door open.