by K. E. Walter
As they reached the empty space in the marketplace, she let go of Neach’s hand and began to walk away.
“Wait, where are you going!” shouted Neach.
Without a response, the beautiful girl simply slid into the shadows and disappeared.
Neach was left by himself in the empty corner of the district, completely befuddled, but with a resounding smile still present upon his face.
A stiff breeze brushed across his cheeks as the sun dipped below the outer wall of Leirwold. It provided ample cooling for the heat he had worked up in dancing with the mysterious girl for the past few minutes.
He couldn’t wrap his head around what had just occurred; was she real? Did she actually exist? Or was it simply a figment of his imagination, a desirable figure in a life which had been so filled with disappointment lately.
Suddenly, he was brought back to reality.
Night had almost fallen and he was meant to be travelling out of the city, northward toward some island where he would find some man that would teach him something.
The ambiguity of it all toiled with Neach as he headed northward through the stables district.
He had never ridden a horse before.
Yet he also had no means of purchasing one. The idea of having a horse seemed appealing to Neach as it would make his journey much more simplistic. Comparatively speaking to walking, it would probably take a third of the time to reach his destination as it would on foot.
He approached one of the stable workers and asked a simple question.
“How is it that I could go about purchasing one of these horses?” he asked.
The stable worker who could not have been any older than he himself was, replied first with a wry smile.
“You want a horse, yea? Let me go ask me boss,” he chuckled as he walked off.
It was evident that Neach was only just a man and considered a boy by many in this city still. Nevertheless, the owner of the stable came out towards Neach with an incredulous glance.
“Who do y’think you are, boy? Asking to purchase one of me horses on the day of the Festival,” the man questioned.
“I’m sorry, sir, I wasn’t aware of the rules,” Neach stated with defiance.
His confidence had grown exponentially in his short time in the city.
Taken aback by this admission of difference in such an adamant fashion, the man leered into Neach’s soul.
“I tell you what boy, you figure out how to ride one of these here horses, you can have him for free,” the man claimed.
Neach was always fond of a good challenge and this seemed to pique his interest.
“Sounds like a good deal,” Neach responded.
“You have three tries, son, if you can’t do it in that amount, then you n’er would be able to in the slightest,” barked the man.
His rude nature seemed to spark a charisma inside of Neach. His desire to win and prove the man wrong would hopefully lead to his success ultimately.
He approached his first attempt cautiously.
Neach placed his hand firmly on the back of the horse and prepared to hoist himself up on top of it. After a few pumps to gain his footing, he threw himself upward.
What happened next was comical. He overshot the horse and flew over the other side of its body, crashing to the ground below.
The man stood laughing with his stable hand, bearing all of the three teeth he was in possession of.
Neach fumed with anger. He clenched his fist and seemed eager to throw all of it into a punch directed at the stable owner.
But he remained composed and walked over to the horse again.
The horse was a beautiful chestnut color, with eyes as big and brown as the trunk of the trees that lined the hills in Spleuchan Sonse. He seemed relatively good natured and Neach hoped to gain his trust. This time he thought he might take the more reserved, cautious approach, as opposed to hauling himself up quickly.
He again walked toward the horse, intent upon mounting it and taking it under his control. Placing his hand on its back again, he put his foot into the left stirrup. This time he was set upon making it atop this majestic creature and riding it off into the sunset.
This lift was much smoother, and he threw his right leg over the other side of the horse and his left remained in the stirrup. Unfortunately for Neach, the horse was not keen on having him sit atop him. He reared his head and shouted out into the air as Neach flew backwards of his back, once again crashing into the ground below.
He was furious now.
Unsure of what to do, but equally unwilling to give up just yet, Neach sat down on the ground beside the horse. He closed his eyes. All he could hear was the laughter of the stable owner, but he attempted to drown that out. After a few moments, he was successful. The only thing which he could hear was his own heartbeat.
Until something spoke to him.
“He knows you, you know him,” it said.
“As the clouds roll in, you too must roll; show your benevolence,” it spoke again.
In a state of serenity, Neach opened his eyes and rose to his feet. In front of him stood the horse, majestic and strong, a representation of all that was natural and good in the world.
He heeded the advice of the mysterious voice and crouched down onto the ground again. He and the horse made eye contact, and Neach slowly pushed himself forward until he rolled right in front of the animal.
“The hell is he doing la?” queried the curious stable owner who was looking on.
But Neach seemed to know something the others did not.
As he reached the feet of the horse, it turned itself sideways toward him. Seemingly beckoning for him to mount him, the horse breathed slowly and heavily. Neach cautiously touched its back again and placed his right foot into the stirrup this time. With a swift motion, he hauled himself and his left leg over the top of the horse.
His left foot slid into the other stirrup as the two men looked on in disbelief. Perched atop this stunningly beautiful animal was a village boy who had never ridden a horse before.
He sat there, without moving, for a few seconds. A smile as wide as the river outside the city walls spread across his face as he comprehended the reality of the situation. He trotted around the enclosed area of the stable and the stable owner looked on in awe.
“How in the world did you do tha? Never in my life must-- you“, before he could finish, Neach gave the reins a bit of a tug.
He could be seen riding off into the distance, out of the city gates.
The cobblestone was much different to ride on, Neach thought.
Maintaining his focus, Neach galloped through the gates and over the bridge which connected the city to the other side of the river.
The sun was setting just over the hills in the distance. Around him was a vast expanse of grass and trees that appeared to be untouched by humanity. He had always felt at home in nature and this moment was nothing less than that. Everything from the weather to the horse he was now riding seemed to strike a chord deep within his soul. Peace, serenity, a complete equilibrium that could only be experience in solidarity.
Once the adrenaline finally wore off, Neach stopped his horse and dismounted, attaching him to a tree near him. Luckily, this tree had fruit that it bore and it appeared to be edible. He grasped one of the fruits in his hand and fed it directly into the horse’s mouth.
“I think I’ll call you Rine,” remarked Neach.
The horse was, unsurprisingly, unaffected by this proclamation and continued to devour the fruit which Neach had given it.
The sun had all but disappeared behind them by now. The sweet serenity of the landscape captivated Neach as he sat with his new friend beneath the cover of the tree.
Darkness was not welcomed; in fact, it was at this very point in the year that darkness is the one thing you dreaded about each day. It came swiftly and early, shrouding all of the beauty of the land around you in a cloak of blackness that wouldn’t be removed until the morning. This cloak
brought with it shivering cold and the solitary confinement offered by the night sky’s presence overhead.
As it crept in, Neach and Rine sat beneath the tree and gazed out at the open meadow in front of them.
A few colorful flowers could be seen poking their heads through the small layer of snow which still remained and they offered a speckled contrast to the overall bleak nature of the ground. These flowers proved to be evidence that winter was indeed ending and that a new season was primed to begin.
Even tonight, with the sun down, felt warmer than many nights previous. For the first time in what seemed like ages, a warm breeze swept over Neach as he lay on the ground beneath the stars. What had begun as a beautiful day in the city had ended as an equally beautiful one outside its walls.
In the distance, mountains could be seen with their snow covered peaks protruding far from the horizon. Neach had never seen a piece of natural creation which was so massive. Even from such a long distance away, it was clear that those mountains were larger than the hills outside of Spleuchan Sonse.
They captivated him. In his exhaustion and seeming bliss, Neach gazed upon the mountains with a smile upon his face. A warm sensation seemed to fill his body as he remained level with the grass in front of him. Their planes brought together as one in a synthesis of nature and humanity.
Nothing about what he had experienced earlier made much sense, but there was an inexplicable comfort in this fact. He knew not what to expect upon his arrival at this mysterious island, nor did he know what it meant that he was bestowed with this book.
This book, which spoke to him, assisted him. But surely that had to be his imagination? No one in their right mind could believe that this book had actually formed words and cast them at Neach. It must have been intuition, or maybe he was really crazy.
One thing which he could not work out as purely mentally conceived fiction was his interaction with the girl in the marketplace. As he lay motionless on the cold ground beneath that fruit bearing tree, thoughts of her danced around his head. He closed his eyes and her soft skin was brushing against his arm. She curled into him and embraced him beneath that tree. Fortunately for Neach, this thought would have to do for the night. There was nothing else which would come to his side at this time and he could only comfort himself with his own thoughts.
The night seemed to pass by in an instant and Neach was awoken by the brightness of the rising sun in the distance. Surprisingly, he wasn’t cold when he awoke. Instead, he was filled with the warmth of adventure as he set off with his horse in the direction of the mountains which were located northward.
Rine had fallen asleep a few feet away from where Neach was and was standing, attached to the tree when Neach opened his eyes. This majestic creature was now under Neach’s supervision and he hoped he could do it justice. He had never owned a horse before; it was seen as unnecessary in his community where everyone owned plots which were manageable on foot.
He wandered toward the horse and rubbed its back gently as a sign of affection. The horse sighed in response and its body shook with a violent tremor. A signal that it was ready to set off again, Neach hoisted himself upward onto Rine’s back and adjusted his position.
Up ahead there was lengthy patch of flat land with sporadic trees spread throughout it. In congruence with the flowers that speckled the, now devoid of snow, ground, these trees served as the tangible reminders that even in perpetual flatness, inconsistencies arise. Nothing can remain untouched forever.
Neach gently urged Rine forward and the two slowly galloped through the field. The sun was shining bright to his left and it felt warm on his back.
It was a picturesque scene; a man on his horse riding through the beautiful fields of Duncairn. If it had been painted in that instant, it surely would have been included in the halls of the great artwork of the time. Majestic and iridescent in front of the rising sun, the two creatures came to a crescendo of speed as they whisked through the trees.
There was something innate which gave Neach the ability to ride Rine so swiftly. Effortlessly guiding him left and right, avoiding trees by the narrowest of margins, his spirit felt free. Everything he had ever known seemed to vanish into the air and what was left a colorful burst of nothingness, which embraced him with the passion of a thousand happy souls.
They glided along the plane with the mountains fixated in the foreground; their snow covered peaks loomed over the flatland like a giant peering into a community of ants. With all that had occurred within the last day, Neach couldn’t be bothered to worry about the impending trek; all that he filled his mind with were thoughts of the beauty of the day and the beauty of the girl he had met the day before.
Seemingly stuck in perpetuity into his brain, this girl whose name he did not know, who had waltzed into his life freely, was now off wandering the streets of Leirwold, unsure of whether the two would ever meet again.
His thoughts wandered back to home.
Back to the valley which he used to inhabit, free of all worry except the next day’s work, the work which had been done for thousands of years on that land by generations of hard working men, the work his brother and father would currently be doing. He missed it, but he did not yearn for the village, for his destiny lay somewhere at the foot of the mountains in the distance or just beyond their snowy peaks. Unsure of his ultimate destination yet hell bent on reaching it, Neach kicked Rine with the back of his foot once more, lurching forward with the speed of an angry sparrow. They seemed to be flying through the wilderness, hurdling unencumbered through the wooded expanse.
As a cool wind blew across his face, Neach’s eyes watered and he closed them momentarily. In the darkness of his own thoughts, vivid visions of color and wonder permeated his every line of sight. He opened them again to see the mountains in front of him getting closer and closer with every passing second. The trees had seemingly disappeared and all that was left was a patch of dead grass.
The closer he got to the mountains, the more evident the path located on its face was. A road which appeared to have been carved out by travelers over hundreds of years stuck out definitively against the snow covered top of the mountain. Neach followed it with his eyes back down to the base of the mountain and aimed his direction toward it.
He pulled on Rine’s reigns as the two came to a slow trot. Stopping just in front of the entrance to the path, Neach gazed up at the massive mountain which sat before him. In order to get to the elusive man on the island, Neach would need to scale the side of this mountain and make his way over it to the other side; and so his journey began, slowly galloping along the beginning of the twisting rocky outline.
VIII
The cascading cliffs provided a rough angle in contrast with the flat plain below. Careening sides outlined the mountain as if it were a line of rain fallen around a place of cover. The distinction between rock and grass, harsh and pastoral, was distinct and prevalent as Neach and Rine traveled slowly up the jagged path that led, in a spiraling manner, up the sheer face of the peak. Transitioning ever so smoothly from fertility to absolute desolation, the convergence of mountain and field acted as a tangible aesthetic of the inner feelings that Neach himself felt about the situation in front of him.
He was headed for an unknown land, far in the distance which he had never heard of nor seen before. On the good faith of Daniel and the message he hoped lay within the Yoriik Riamendi.
An absurd name for a text, or in reality, anything in the scope of the world, this text was said to hold the answers that Neach so desired. It would be his greatest teacher, as well as, his most profound source of intellect along the journey. He hoped that he would gain a greater consciousness after the experience, but as it is frequently in life, he could not be sure.