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CHAPTER ONE Fen-Rod searched for a suitable campsite. Exhausted, cold and hungry, the stout, hairy traveler was grateful for the onset of moon rise. Untying the knapsack, the weary traveler shifted his shoulders slightly. The pack slid to the leaf covered ground. After unbuckling the wide belt, he stretched. The strap of leather along with the attached herb pouches fell beside the pack. He wanted to forego a fire and try to sleep, but knew that would be unwise in these mountains, especially with new life just beginning.
Fen-Rod forgot about the Festival of the Red-Black Moon until he reached the foothills. He saw his cousin, Me-Chan, helping with the preparations. Ignoring the festive activities, Fen-Rod grabbed Me-Chan by the shoulders. "Where is Karanna? I have to speak with the Teller of Dreams. Is she in the mountain? The Dream Master has summoned me." Me-Chan, hearing the panic in his cousin's voice, pointed towards the old woman's cavern. Surprised by Fen-Rod's actions, he watched as Fen-Rod rushed past him. Turning to his friends, Me-Chan said, "It surprises me he'd return even for the festival. But to seek the advice Karanna, something is very wrong. Everyone knows my cousin has little use for those possessing a User's power, or the gift of sleep sight. He refuses to accept a power or strength that is unseen." The troubled healer ignored the mutters from Me-Chan's friends and began climbing the smooth stone steps to the cave's entrance. Once reaching the gaping ancient mouth he paused before continuing. Because of his travels, he no longer felt comfortable belonging to a clan that chose to remain ignorant of an ever changing world. It was hard to believe the Small-ones once helped keep the balance, but that was before the first conversion. However, that was cycles ago. Now, as it was in the time of his father's father, the clan continued to dig deeper into the mountain of stone and dirt to accommodate new families and the growing population. Now, except for a few brave adventures, Small-ones no longer had the capability to build or live in open structures. If not for the dream, he would not have returned. The Small-one's thoughts were interrupted. A square wooden post near a small cavern blocked the entrance. The fragrance of sweet herbs and damp musty air flowed from the woman's dwelling. He stood near the open archway, not knowing how to announce his presence. He had to tell her of the strange recurring dream. A dream so realistic, every detail of it, and its haunting after effect could be recalled. Fen-Rod cleared his throat before striking the welcome post. Karanna sat rigidly in front of a pit of swirling colors, with her back to the entrance. The old woman held her short stubby hands to her head in deep concentration. Sensing Fen-Rod's presence, she motioned for him to enter. "Fen-Rod, I have waited several rises for your arrival. I will forego the formalities. You have little time for an old woman's idle chatter. Regardless of your misgivings, I am incapable of lying to those who truly seek my help." Defending himself, Fen-Rod said, "It's not misgivings, but fact. No mortal can see what takes place in the minds of those asleep." "I cannot, nor will I attempt to, sway your beliefs." The old woman gave a slight nod then motioned for him to sit across from her. She shifted her position and took a few dried leaves and brightly colored pebbles from the clay pots beside her. Bowing her head, Karanna whispered a chant. She dropped the leaves and pebbles into the swirling mass of colors. The air around them grew heavy with the sent of dream flowers. Karanna said, "Breath deeply. The dream flowers will remove your fears. Through your words, I will relive your dream." Fen-Rod shook his head in disbelief, but desperate for an answer did as told. After several deep breaths, his eyes became glassy. Nodding, Karanna told him to begin. "I'm tumbling through a dimly lit shaft. The walls are smooth and spiral downward endlessly. I can see ghostly faces, and unknown weapons. These weapons are emitting a soft glow of indistinguishable colors. The walls are becoming ragged with sharp outcropped ledges. On some of these ledges sinister eyes are glaring at me in hunger. I can hear the sound of bones crushing. "The air is becoming foul. It smells of decay. The outcropped ledges are becoming more frequent. Oh, Canthija protect me! I see a large bluish claw-like hand. It's covered with pieces of flesh and caked with blood. The hand is following me relentlessly. It won't leave me alone. I'm getting tired. I have to rest. It's reaching for me. The hand has me. It's tightening it's grip. My life force is being pulled from me. The hand's bringing me toward a pair of glistening eyes and a saliva filled mouth. "A pale gray fog is beginning to surround me. The fog is beginning to dissolve, a soft light has taken its place. A voice is calling me." Remembering the commanding tone the voice held, Fen-Rod paused. Karanna reached over the pit. Gently touching his shoulder, she told him, "Do not fight the dream flowers. The worst is over. Your dream is near an end. Please continue." Fen-Rod nodded and took a shallow breath. "The voice is saying, 'Healer of the Mamskua Clan listen well, for I am the Dream Master. Thou art now summoned to Quasta. Upon thy arrival, thee shall enter the Inn of Lost Souls. There thee shall meet a User of mystic powers, one able to remove things unseen, and two wielders of weapons. Ye shall know who they are, for an unseen force shall guide thee to them. Thy presence t'is required five rises hence. Seekth what advice thee wishest. Thou art now released from my care.' "Both the light and voice are gone now. The claw is releasing its grip. I'm beginning to fall again. I can see the swirling bottom now. I'm going to hit water!" Fen-Rod jerked and opened his eyes. Though the dream induced by the dream flowers was gone, the haunting fear of the dream remained in his eyes. Karanna's face showed the strain of concentration as she looked deep into the pit. The Teller of Dreams watched as the liquid in the pit began pulsate. Shads of blue green and purple began to surface. Within seconds the colors, representing moral choice, began to swirl then became marbled with gold and silver. Stunned, she raised her head and looked at Fen-Rod. "Why has my Master permitted me to see this?" Taking a deep breath, Karanna began to translate what was shown. She was unable to hide her fear and uncertainty. "Listen well Healer of the Mamskua sect," By using Fen-Rod's formal title she impressed on him the importance of what shown. "this dream comes from beyond. I can only tell you once, for the dark ones watch. I cannot be kind with its meaning. For this I am truly sorry. "The endless falling represents a search for something, or someone lost in antiquity. These unknown weapons speak of mystic battles yet to be. The ghostly faces are friends or companions you shall soon meet. The jaws and eyes are unclear. Perhaps you or one you shall meet will lose their life force or take on a moral change. Since a time was given and the place called by name, your presence is vital to whomever requested my Master to summon you. I warn you now, this calling will become stronger until answered. "There is a powerful force at work here. A force such as this cannot be dismissed, only confronted where the source is strongest. I was not told where Quasta will appear. Speak to the Star Gazers and Keeper of Maps for this information." "What of the gray fog? Does it have a meaning?" "The fog was the face of my Master. He chose this form to reveal himself and your destiny to you." Confused, Fen-Rod started to question her, but she shook her head before continuing. "Look to our ancestral legends, for they hold the answer. Those you shall meet have been chosen because their destinies intertwine with yours. Before you ask, I know not what this is." Raising to her feet, her actions told him no more questions would be answer. Karanna walked with him to the cavern's entrance. "Dreams often have a deeper meaning than any mortal can see. As for this one." The Teller of Dreams paused and shuddered. "take care young healer. There are many things I could not see. My master, in his wisdom, has chosen to let me see but a glimpse." Extending her hand, the old woman made her farewell statement. "May the Dream Master's tenderness be with you in your sleep." When their eyes met, Karanna's face revealed her fear. Fen-Rod walked toward the entrance. Seeing a small bowl by the exit, he started to place a few coins in it. Karanna placed her hand over the rim and whispered fearfully. "I have been forbidden payment. This dream goes beyond mortal understanding." Fen-Rod reached for the top of her hand as a gesture of farewell, but she shook her head. Karanna's hands began to tremble. Her voice became an urgent whisper. "Go now. Ask no more of me. I will give your respect and regards to the clan." Backing away, she pushed past to the main cavern. His father's cavern was a short distance from where Karanna had disappeared. There he could get the necessary supplies. Among the Mamskua clan, healers always dwelled near those with the gift of sleep sight. This was one of many traditions Fen-Rod couldn't understand. Cycles before he had argued that superstitious powers and proven fact shouldn't mix. Pausing, Fen-Rod let his hand rest on the cold smoothly chiseled stone of the open archway. The musty dampness of the cavern brought back pleasant memories of his youth. His eyes scanned the small cavern and its sparse furnishings. Everything was as he remembered. In one corner was the pair of high back stone and wooden chairs where he had discussed his life calling with his father. His thoughts returned to the aroma of past festivals, when he saw the clay pots neatly placed near the cooking pit. Baskets of dried fruit and grains filled the storage. From hooks hung smoked meats given to his father in payment for his services. All this told him the past cycle had been a bountiful one. When he saw his parents, Fen-Rod's memories were quickly replaced by the bitter reminder of his last visit. Though his parents saw him, their only acknowledgment was a quick nod. To avoid an argument, he bowed slightly before going to the storage shelves. He began filling his knapsack with flat traveling bread, dried fruit and strips of dried meat. Taking three flasks, he filled two with ale and one with water. While looking to see what else might be needed, he noticed Sirmeral, the Map Maker and family friend, talking to his parents. Fen-Rod decided this was one time he should observe off-spring respect. The younger healer waited until the older healer acknowledged him. With his father's approval, Fen-Rod said, "Simeral, I need your knowledge of maps and boundaries after I see the Star Gazers." Simeral, nodded and scratched the back of his neck. Glancing at Fen-Rod's parents, he told them, "The witch was upset after seeing your off-spring. She pushed a star chart into my hand and told me to give it to Fen-Rod then ran toward the Hall of Prayer." Simeral glanced at Fen-Rod. "You scared the third void out of her. She wouldn't say how or why. What dream did she see?" Shaking his head, Fen-Rod answered, "The Dream Master has made his presence known to me. I have been summoned to Quasta. I have little time to find this city. Only the loss of my life force will prevent me from this journey." Simeral crossed his hands and bowed to Fen-Rod's parents before motioning for Fen-Rod to follow. Fen-Rod touched the back of his mother's hand in farewell and adjusted the straps to overflowing knapsack before leaving. Walking toward the cave's main entrance, Simeral stopped. He handed Fen-Rod two parchments. "According to these charts, Quasta should appear somewhere beyond the Forest of Mamtaust. That is, if the Star Gazers are correct. "It is rumored that Quasta is ruled by the most powerful User since before the mark of power has been recorded. Other believe, however, it is the Gateway to the Seventh Land. And is seen by mortals only every seven cycles during the Festival of the Red-black Moon. But you know rumors, they have a way of making the simple sound mysterious and the mysterious divine. Who knows, perhaps the truth lies between the mysterious and the divine. "Either way, it will take a few rises to get there. I would suggest you travel with little rest. Dreams such as this have a nasty way of causing nothing but trouble, until fulfilled. I know your family doesn't approve of your ideas or life style. However, take care and make them proud." With farewells said, Simeral pushed a short handled ax in Fen-Rod's hands. "Though weapons are against your moral choice, you may need protection. Sometimes only a threat is enough to save one's hide." He grasped Fen-Rod's shoulders. "Hopefully you'll find some type of companionship along the way. Journeys such as this are made easier when there is time to watch your back and rest your bones." |
