He caught up with the little creature as it rested on a leaf. Strange that it did not stay on one of the flowers, he thought, and as he approached it flew further into the woods. Marcus felt as though it was playing with him: it would vanish behind a tree or swoop into a bush, then set out towards a new direction.
After a few minutes the butterfly settled on a rock in a small clearing. The sun beamed down on it; Marcus carefully approached so as to not frighten it away. It just stayed in place, gently batting its wings open, then closed.
Just as Marcus pondered the purpose of this encounter, the butterfly’s wings shut tightly, shuddered for a moment, then ever so slowly opened again but this time they drooped further down than they normally should, until the wing tips rested on the rock.
Marcus’ little friend was no more.
An inordinate amount of time passed as Marcus tried to make sense of what he had just witnessed.
Eventually he thought: ‘It’s but a butterfly, an insect whose life spans no more than a week, maybe two…’
That being the case, he wondered why tears were rolling down his eyes.
It was about an hour before sunset when Marcus approached Syton’s cabin, Emilia was on the porch, sitting on a chair facing out into the wilderness.
“How was your time alone?” he asked.
“Not bad,” she replied with a smile.
Just then Syton came out from the cabin, bearing a wooden tray with a kettle and three goblets.
“Elderberry and peppermint,” proclaimed the wizard as he served his guests. “I find this brew most conducive to sharpening the senses whilst soothing them.”
“What are we…,” began Marcus
“I gather from your expressions that my forest has not failed to impart a lesson or two. Through the years I have found that meditating on what I have witnessed during the day as the sun sets has a way of profoundly deepening the meaning of my experience. I hope it will have the same impact on you both.
“Later we shall spend as much time as necessary discussing your experiences as well as the insights you have gleaned, but for now a little more silence.”
Syton ended his last word in a whisper, and the three of them sat facing the amber colored heavens.
Though it was a calm afternoon, a cool mist slowly crept to their feet. Its chilling effect however was quickly addressed by a sip of the warm brew.
After dinner that evening, the three of them sat around the dining table in a jovial atmosphere. Emilia and Marcus took turns sharing their misadventures at Tanvar, to which Syton laughed heartily. They then settled down to discuss their experiences for the day.
“I saw kingfishers swooping down the pond and catching fish with their beaks,” said Emilia. “Then I sighted what I thought was the most beautiful one of them. It flew down with such grace and purpose that I knew its prey would not even know what happened to him. Sure enough it caught a fish, but as it flew up, the unexpected happened to the bird, the fish whipped its tail at the kingfisher’s face and the bird nearly fell from the sky. In surprise it let out a cry, which unwittingly released the fish from its beak.”
“So my dear, what did that say to you?”
Emilia became contemplative for a moment, then speaking in a more subdued voice, “I saw myself in the kingfisher: confident, self-assured and ill-prepared for the unexpected.”
“Anything else my dear?”
“I was surprised though at my disposition.”
“How so?” continued Syton.
“If that very same lesson was told to my face it would have either angered or saddened me. However, arriving at the realization the way I did, I found it humorous. I guess I should not take myself so seriously, then.” a tiny smile now appeared on Emilia’s face.
“Perhaps,” Syton smiled. “And you Marcus, share with us the wisdom imparted to you by the forest.”
Marcus was silent, his face a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. Finally he spoke,
“I’m sorry, but my experience made no sense to me. I followed a butterfly through the woods. It eventually rested on a rock and died.”
“That sounds very straightforward. What made no sense to you my boy?”
“What made no sense was the fact that I was crying over the death of an insect. ‘Tis but a butterfly, its lifespan is merely days, yet…at that moment I could not reconcile myself to that fact.”
“Is there anything else you have trouble reconciling yourself with, my boy? From what you shared to me about your situation, it seems that only when you are asleep does your inherent power come forth and it appears to go into hiding as you awaken – except for that time in the forest near Tanvar when you unwittingly summoned it. I assure you it is not my intention to embarrass, but Marcus, are you truly open to this power of yours?”
“With all due respect, wizard Syton, would I have come this far if I was not?”
“Would you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Question upon question upon question. Perhaps an answer is not forthcoming because one has yet to be arrived at,” said Syton slowly as he clasped his hands to his chin upon them. After a moment of deep concentration he continued,
“Marcus, your mind knows butterflies are destined to live for only a few days yet a part of you could not come to terms with that fact regarding this particular insect. Perhaps a fondness developed that made acceptance of its destiny difficult?”
Marcus was silent, but judging from his facial expression it was apparent that Sytons words had struck something in him. Sensing this, the wizard decided it best to shift their conversation.
“It has been a long day for all. Perhaps a good night’s rest is the most productive endeavor we can engage in for now.”
“If you think so, Syton,” said Emilia, who felt there was something left unaddressed but trusted that the old man knew what he was doing.
Later that evening all were asleep except for one who stood up, carefully walked across the cabin silentlyopened the door and stepped outside.
The moonlight gave the surroundings an otherworldly appearance. From fields of green amidst the backdrop of a blue sky the same scenery was now clothed in varying shades of gray. The mountains and the trees were silhouettes of their daytime form but the wet grass glistened like swaying crystal needles in the evening glow.
It had been raining, this the spectator anticipated, and he also knew that as he started to awake the downpour weakened to a drizzle and dissipated before he opened his eyes.
‘Much like a shy child who frolics and plays when the stern parent is away but swiftly reverts to docility upon father’s return,’ thought Marcus as he stepped off the porch unto the damp field feeling and appreciating the wake left by what he had just called a shy child.
“My shy child,” whispered Marcus, whose words were accompanied by a profound realization. What if He was the stern, rigid parent and if that were the case what would happen if he gave permission to his shy child to come out and play?
With that he closed his eyes and without words, just a change in his inner disposition seemed to have triggered what followed.
Marcus felt a light gush of wind then a trickle of rain. Both slowly gained momentum then a few minutes later this was followed by a heavy downpour.
Marcus then stretched out his arms as he laughed and spun around the field appearing to be simultaneously dancing with and embracing the rain. And as he brought his arms down the rains weakened and ceased. He was soaked but elated.
After taking a moment to survey the scenery he turned to face the cabin and was surprised to see a light. He walked a few steps closer and saw that the light was coming from a lamp hanging at the porch and that Syton was sitting below it.
When Marcus was near enough to see his smile, Syton spoke,
“Congratulations. You have come to terms with your inherent power. Might I ask how you did so?”
“I … I perceived it to be as a shy child who would only come out to play when its
strict parents were away.”
“Oh! And once you realized and accepted its nature as such it came rushing into your arms.”
“Yes, somewhat like that I suppose. Were you here long Syton? Did the rains wake you?”
“My boy,” began Syton with a chuckle, “I have been living here alone for years. I know the sound and feel of my cabin as well as the whole forest, such that when I have visitors I can never sleep soundly. I was awake the moment you stood up from your bed. But have no fear, I would not have missed this event for a whole moon’s slumber.”
At that the two men beamed at each other.
“Best come inside and dry up,” Syton finally said. “Then get some rest, for this is just the start.”
“Just the start? What do you mean?”
“Marcus, you have just made the acquaintance of your inherent power. Your shy child, as you said. How well do you know him?”
“Know him?”
“Surely you realize your inherent power, like any power, requires mastery. Even inanimate objects such as swords, spears, plates, cups, pots and pans have unique features, and characteristics by which their use can be maximized.
“Summoning and halting rain is merely the start. You have to form a bond with it, much like Emilia with Titan. But enough for now. It is a good start. We shall continue in the morning.”
Marcus awoke sometime around mid-morning. He could hear Emilia and Syton engaged in conversation so he decided to join them outside. As he stepped out onto the porch he was surprised to find that the surrounding field was dry: for the past few weeks he had gotten used to waking up to damp surroundings so he assumed mornings would always be wet.
“Good morning my boy! You seem startled.”
“It is just that I have become accustomed to wet chilly mornings.”
“Ah, perhaps since your ‘shy child’ no longer sees the need to hide from its stern parent there is no need to play only whilst you sleep.”
“Shy child? What is all this about Syton?” asked Emilia in curious amusement.
“Young Marcus has finally found a way to relate to his inherent power by visualizing it as a shy child that needs acceptance. Thus, when he was able to do so, the rest followed.”
“Oh, and the two of you let me sleep through all that?”
“My dear there are some things that have to happen in a certain way which is sometimes private and personal.”
“But you saw,” accused Emilia teasingly
“I eavesdropped. Wouldn’t have wanted my field flooded and my cabin swept away. However, Marcus only saw me after it was all over.”
“Yes indeed. And what now, Syton?”
“Training, my boy, training. For power uncontrolled is merely unleashing a predictable disaster.”
“Very well,” said Marcus. Then with a mischievous glint in his eye, remarked, “Seems somewhat warm this morning.”
He stretched out his hand and immediately it rained. Upon dropping his arm, it stopped. There was a smile on his face. Which quickly vanished as he turned to see Emilia and Syton, who were silent but clearly not amused.
The days that followed were no more than repetitions of Marcus’ performance that first morning. Except that now, he too was not amused. He could start and stop the rain but nothing more. There was no change in quantity, direction, area, or strength. It just rained and stopped raining with the rise and fall of his hand.
“Oh Emilia! For days now it is as if all I am doing is overturning a large bucket,” said Marcus in frustration
“At least you can stop it now. What I would have given for you to be able to do that back in the forest of Tanvar.”
“But this is tiresome! I had expected some improvement by now.”
“Maybe we’re trying too hard. Perhaps we should call it a day, get some rest and consult Syton after dinner.”
Marcus had to agree. Today they have been trying for hours without improvement and being tired and irate was not going to accomplish anything. With that he replied: “Very well then… Where do we pass going back to the cabin?” Marcus added somewhat befuddled.
For as they surveyed their surroundings they realized that days of practice had left the forest grounds muddy with two-foot deep depressions everywhere, representing the different paths they had taken going to and from the woods.
That afternoon Emilia had gone off on her own. She’d said she wanted to take a solitary walk through the woods, but in fact she was using her power of fire to try and dry up some of the excess water in Sytons forest.
From the porch the two men watched the sunset and its amber rays reflecting on innumerable puddles and pools of mud.
“I am so sorry I turned your beautiful field and forest into a swamp, Syton,” said Marcus in an embarrassed tone.
“Think nothing of it dear boy. Nature has a way of either restoring balance or making use of what is there. Why, I would not be surprised if something better springs forth from all this nourishment,” Syton smiled.
“You make it seem that all things have a way of working out.”
“Because they do my boy, they do. Perhaps not exactly the way we wish but it comes about more favorably to the one who can arrive at a balance.”
“What do you mean by a balance?”
“Life basically concerns balance. Either bringing it about or being able to accept and come to terms with it. Which makes me wonder, now that I think of it, how much of a bond have you established with your power?”
At that Marcus simply gave Syton a curious-defensive look which the old magician understood and with a smile he continued: “My boy, I would like you to envision a mariner setting out to sea. He may not be in control of the winds or the waves but knowledge of how to harness them will eventually allow him to reach his chosen destination regardless of the direction by which the water flows or the wind blows. And knowledge of this sort comes from understanding the very nature of the elements and how to make use of the same.”
“But I am trying to understand through practice,” said Marcus. “Yet nothing new is happening, even Emilia, with her years of experience, cannot offer a viable suggestion on what to do next.”
“Emilia is most proficient in handling her own power. She was tutored by a good friend of mine.”
“Watoo.”
“Yes that was him. After their first year together they found their way here and they stayed with me for a full moon. Emilia was a fast learner; I merely had to offer suggestions but did not need to formally teach her anything.”
“I realize she is determined and talented,” said Marcus, looking somewhat down.
“Yes she is. But that does not imply that her skills are the same at mentoring. Especially in your case, where your power is opposite of hers. That is why she thought it best to come over here.
“Marcus, though Emilia may be ahead of you in some respects she too is a learner and this is the way the fates chose for her tutelage to continue. Considering that you have been on your quest for only a few moons I would say you are doing quite splendidly. But returning to my example of the mariner who cooperates with the wind and the waves, my boy, are you working with your power or are you trying to command and control it?”
“I …” stammered Marcus before deciding to keep quiet.
“I see.” Syton nodded. “There is a mystical place which I believe shall be of help in aiding you to learn how to work with your power. We shall discuss it further after Emilia returns from trying to dry the forest…rather, her walk I mean,” said Syton with a wink.
Carrying their fresh supplies the next morning Marcus, Emilia and Titan head off for the mountain ranges of Gelgan in the far north to seek out what most – except for a few wizards and quite a number of old wives – believe to be a myth.
Titan was glad to be leaving the countryside of Eldor. Although he was secure in a makeshift stable he did not take pleasure in his hooves being on damp and muddy earth. In this regard he had the unpleasant task of gingerly traversing through the muc
k a hoof at a time, which he did so quite irritably as his riders sat dry and mortified on his back.
By midday they were beyond the territories of Eldor, and though a weeks’ journey lay ahead they no longer feared camping out since between the two of them they had influence over fire and, to some degree, rain.
At the end of a long day’s ride Marcus and Emilia sat in front of their blazing campfire engaged in pleasant conversation.
“You know Emilia, I really believed you had all the answers to help me become a magician.”
“In all honesty so did I. And I must admit that the realization of not being able to do so left me questioning the fates.”
“Regarding whether or not I am meant to be a magician?”
“Oh no! I questioned whether I was the right one to help you become a magician.”
“You mean you did not doubt that I was meant to be a magician?”
“You had the conviction, desire, and determination. Your heart was there and because of that I knew it would only be a matter of time.”
“But what if I did not discern properly? All the time that nothing was happening did it not occur to you that I might not have been meant to be a magician?”
“Marcus this much I know: The call of destiny is heard by the heart, which is why it so seldom makes sense. It is only later after results and proofs appear do our minds begin to consider that perhaps it was meant to be so.”
“Very well. What about if someone was struggling with two possibilities or does that not occur? I mean between two real choices, how would one know which is truly one’s destiny?”
“For certain it could. That is where one’s free will would have to intervene.”
“Would not free will be contrary to the fates as well as to destiny?”
“At some point one’s mind has to give ascent to choose between what is visible and what may be hidden, between what the eye sees and a willingness to follow the dictates of what the heart feels.”
“Does that not go against the very nature of destiny and what the fates intend?”
“My dear Marcus, we are not cattle which can either be mindlessly milked or slaughtered in the midst of an uncaring herd. Think about it, if there were no free will, life would have no struggles. We would just go about doing things, perhaps everyone doing what the fates meant for them to do, but there would be no meaning to life.”
A Prince of Aelon Page 8