Generations
Buying Time
The wind howled and whipped around the lone traveler, blinding her with her own long hair and pushing her dangerously close to the shear cliff edge that bounded the one side of the narrow path that meandered down the stony mountain. But the wanderer paid this danger no mind, continuing her slow decent heedless of her surroundings. Her down-cast eyes picked out the details of the dusty pathway beneath her dragging feet, yet she did not seem to see enough to avoid stumbling on loose rocks and small tuffs of vegetation that managed to scratch out an existence on the barren surface of the mountain. Nor did she pay notice to the cries of savage animals that emitted from the forest below her. In fact, one would have thought that all sensations had been completely cut off for this girl, as she wandered, numb to sight, sound and the bitter chill of the wind, toward the base of the mountain.
It’s over. I always knew it would end this way. Why? Why did I even allow it to begin? I was told that it would not be permanent. Could not be, for that matter...
Her wanderings reached the end of the trail, and she paused for a moment, her eyes trying in vain to inform her mind of what it saw. Her body moved according to reflex, turning toward an opening in the foliage that seemed to mark a path into the forest.
Her eyes tried again to break into her mind: Was this the way she had come from? Her mind didn’t care enough to respond. Her feet decided it didn’t matter if that was the same path or not, and began to move her forward.
After all this time... To be old... I’ve always wondered what changes about a person when the body ages...
Dozens of wild and curious eyes peered out of the dense foliage, some the slits of predators’ eyes glowering through the bushes, some big and round peering down from the branches above her head, some small and moist peeping out of the little swamps and ponds that formed among the roots of the tall trees. Oblivious to all this, the shell of a person continued on down the path, feet still catching on loose rubble, eyes still down-cast.
What can be the purpose of a finite existence? So little time to accomplish anything of use, and through-out the entire struggle the body will slowly fail at its ability, decaying and crumbling and always with death looming over it all... How do these creatures we have so long called "normal" manage to find meaning in such a life?
Her ears registered a menacing growl off to the right, and at an uncomfortably short distance. Her feet wanted to hurry, but her mind finally stepped in to try take control, pulling them back to an even slower pace.
I could just wait right here...
Reflexes fought and triumphed at last, and her feet carried her swiftly beyond the territory of the beast she had offended. Her eyes picked up a familiar landmark and pointed it out to her mind. Not much further to ... to ...
To what? To a city bustling with a life it only pretends to lay claim to? To the dying remains of a long and glorious career? To people that used to take special notice of my existence that will now pity and scorn me? To a race against a few moments’ time to find a way to make the last thousand years worth something?
They are worth nothing now. I accomplished nothing. All the training, all the practice, all the work. All the time. As if today would never come. Why?
Her feet had carried her to the edge of the woods. Not to far along this path lay the outskirts of a vast and wealthy city, where thousands of people competed with each other on a moment to moment basis to amass what they saw as material possessions, but which this one aged child could now see were just symbols of owning a little time.
On the same planet, yet in an entirely different world, another girl made her rapid escape into the other end of the same forest. Scrambling through the underbrush, she tried and failed to evade all the creatures that noticed her presence. Thorns raked across her bare arms and legs, leaving angry red slashes that itched in the warm humidity of the lowest canopy of the jungle. She could hardly contain her yelps of surprise at large creatures that made themselves known from the bushes, but she knew that too much noise would draw her pursuers back onto her trail. She came to a clearing which was divided by a rapid river. The river was just wide enough that she couldn’t hop over it, and too deep and fast to try to wade through. Backing up several feet, she got a running start and leaped into the air, tumbling in a ball high over the center of the river and landing neatly on her feet on the far side. Without a pause, she dashed on into the woods on the far side.
After an hour of hasty flight goaded by intense fear, the girl’s swiftness and agility finally began to wear out. The forest formed an irregular ring around a small mountain chain, and she had reached the inner edge of this ring, coming to the base of the first mountain.
Panting, she paused to analyze the situation. A cacophony of sounds raced up from the forest she had just left, animal cries and the creaks and groans of trees covering any clues she may have gotten about the status of her pursuit. Perhaps they hadn't seen her run. Perhaps she had lost them in the woods. Perhaps they were only two meters into the underbrush from here and about to leap out and re-capture her.
This thought spurred her into a frantic climb up the mountain-side. After another half-hour of flight, the small girl at last collapsed in a fairly level clearing. Slowly, she regained her breath and began to take in her surroundings. The little-used trail she had taken up the side of the mountain was empty, and no sign of pursuit showed itself from the woods. She relaxed slightly, but only slightly. The wind picked up, and, although there were no clouds in the sky, Naomi thought she heard thunder. She leaned herself against a boulder and closed her eyes to rest, but a sudden flash of lightening brought them open again. Still no clouds covered the sky, but she could have sworn...
A glitter of light on the edge of her vision brought her around. And there, right behind her head, standing as beautifully and nobly as in the fairy tale, a Sword rose out of the stone she had been leaning on.
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