by Iram Dana
He wondered if he should replace the jeans he had borrowed but since he had already worn them he scrapped the idea. The pendant and tool-box would have to do. He kept the toolbox and the pendant on Diego’s bed alongside the pair of jeans hoping this would distract him from looking at the wet floor. Satisfied that he had adequately atoned for his earlier crimes, Sierra headed to the kitchen to join his father in setting out the table for tonight’s dinner. He quickened his pace as the smell of roast beef reached his nostrils and his stomach gave a growl of approval.
Diego walked the long way back home from the beach where he had taken his date today. He did this because he wanted to be absent when Sierra opened his gift. Not because he wanted to give Sierra privacy, oh no. Privacy was the only thing Sierra asked for, so naturally, it was the one thing Diego never gave Sierra. He had gone through Sierra’s diaries, books, letters and practically everything else that Sierra owned. He also made it a point to regularly turn up unwelcome and uninvited to any secluded spot that Sierra managed to lure a girl to. Served him right too, thought Diego, since Sierra also went out of his way to do exactly what irritated him and as frequently as possible.
So no, the main reason why Diego wanted to be absent when Sierra opened his present was because he knew that Sierra would get emotional when he saw what was inside. And that he could not handle. Thankfully, Sierra never used this knowledge against him.
Soon, Diego was walking on the cobbled path leading off the road and up toward their house. It was situated atop a gently sloping hill. This afforded them with a gorgeous view of the city lights on the road below and of a sky studded with millions of stars overhead. Diego loved looking at the stars and simply being alone with his thoughts. Sierra could appreciate the beauty of the quiet night too, and insisted on joining him sometimes. But Diego preferred to do his appreciating alone because Sierra was just too chatty for his liking. He looked at his wristwatch. It was almost ten.
Since he was already late for dinner and knew that both Sierra and his father would be waiting impatiently for him by now, Diego skipped the urge to admire the star spangled sky and headed straight for the house. He entered quietly, as usual alerting nobody to the fact of his arrival, and went straight to his room to take a quick shower. One step inside, however, and he stopped with a swear, anger slowly flaring to life in his chest as he noticed the telltale wet trail on his carpet. That trespasser Sierra had been in here again! He followed the trail with his eyes to the spot where it ended near his cupboard. No, not his clothes again! He stormed inside to see what Sierra had dared to do in his absence, all the while trying to decide if he should simply kill Sierra or mutilate him before doing that. Just then, his gaze fell on his bed where a freshly washed and ironed pair of jeans was kept neatly folded beside a brand new tool box.
His anger faded abruptly as he realized that Sierra must have borrowed his jeans, but then had enough survival instinct to replace the borrowed pair with another fresh pair. Deciding to give his younger brother a few more days to live, he walked over to the bed and opened the tool box.
A host of new carving and shaping tools greeted his sight and Diego decided to give up the idea of killing Sierra entirely, settling on simply mutilating him instead.
But that was when he saw the pendant: A beautiful, transparent, rectangular case with a four leaf clover suspended inside.
He knew Sierra had made this himself just as surely as he knew this was the same four leaf clover Sierra had brought home some weeks ago after days of searching. At that time he had thought that Sierra had wanted it as a gift for some girl. Now, as he held it against the light, admiring the pendant, he magnanimously decided to forgive Sierra for the whole thing. After all, Sierra was his little brother, thought Diego kindly.
He strung the pendant on a black chain and wore it around his neck before entering the kitchen to join his father and brother for dinner. Sierra looked up from his seat in surprise as Diego entered.
“Yo, D, when did you get back? Didn’t hear ya.” To Stal, he added, “Look Dad, D’s home finally. We can eat now.”
Diego didn’t say anything. He just strolled to where Sierra was seated and raised his fist to meet Sierra’s in a playful punch-cum-greeting, then settled into the chair between Sierra and Stal. Sierra eyed his brother warily, looking for some sign that he was angry or upset when his gaze fell on the pendant dangling from Diego’s neck. Looked like he would live yet.
He grinned up at Diego, who grinned back. Sierra didn’t mention Diego’s gift though, or thank him for it. He didn’t want to blow the fuse on Diego’s famously short emotional switch. So instead, he turned his attention to the enormous spoonful of mashed potatoes being heaped upon his plate by his father.
“How much are you serving me?” he asked, frowning with disapproval at the small mountain of steaming potatoes on his plate.
“I’ve served three big spoons so far. Is it too much?” asked Stal, pausing in uncertainty.
Sierra snatched the spoon away from Stal’s hand. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Just three? What about the rest of my tummy?”
He served himself three more portions as big as the first three. Satisfied that there was almost nothing left, he passed the bowl over to Diego only to be met with the sight of him smug faced, emptying the bowl of mashed peas. Sierra scowled and banged the bowl of mashed potatoes in front of Diego, who calmly put the bowl of mashed peas aside, away from Sierra’s reach, and proceeded to help himself to whatever was left of the mashed potatoes.
It took a supreme effort on his part to look so calm, but Diego managed it because he knew that this would irritate the crap out of Sierra. Stal took his seat and sighed heavily, watching as his sons dug into their meal, glaring at each other.
*****
CHAPTER 3
The atmosphere soon cooled down and before long, dinner was its usual loud and boisterous affair. The credit for this went entirely to Sierra, who could somehow manage to enjoy a conversation with everything ranging from a human to a wooden chair.
No wonder he could stand some of those dumb dates of his, thought Diego, who didn’t talk much but enjoyed himself all the same. Their father regaled them with stories of his youth and the many situations he had landed himself in due to his penchant for mischief making. When dinner was finally over and all the dishes had been cleared, Stal, who was washing his hands at the sink, said over his shoulder, “There’s cake for those who still have some space left.”
“Rocking!” said Sierra, while Diego looked expectantly towards Stal.
“It’s in the living room, on the table by the fireplace.” said Stal.
Sierra was out of the kitchen before Stal had finished his sentence. Diego followed behind slowly, hands jammed in his pockets.
Sierra whooped and jumped over the sofa, landing a mere foot away from the cake, almost smashing it. It was small; modestly decorated and with the number ‘18’ iced on it. Sierra eagerly picked up the knife lying next to it and proceeded to cut himself a slice. Meanwhile, Diego reached the fireplace and sat on the sofa next to Sierra.
The cake was unnaturally hard to cut. When Sierra picked up the slice of cake intending to shove the whole thing in his mouth, he discovered why. Before he could bring it halfway to his lips the whole thing simply crumpled in his hand, leaving only the limp icing behind. Sierra stared in disbelief; first at the shell of icing in his hand, and then at the lump of what looked like sawdust fallen near his feet. Diego gave a snort of amusement, thoroughly enjoying Sierra’s predicament.
Stal walked into the living room then, casually wiping his hands on a towel as he seated himself opposite the two of them.
“Something amiss, son?” he inquired innocently.
“Nothing that you didn’t intend to be amiss.” said Sierra, irritation coloring his voice.
Stal nodded towards the cake, “When you saw the cake there, did you know that it was filled with sawdust?”
“Obviously not, or I would have let Diego tast
e it first.” said Sierra. He threw a sneaky look at Diego, who scowled back at him.
Stal’s face suddenly grew very serious as he looked at both of his sons.
“The point I am trying to make is; you would never have known what was inside that cake unless you bothered to cut it. Similarly, you need to discover what lies inside of you. What you are made of. Maybe you’ll discover that you’re just beautiful on the outside and worthless on the inside, like this cake here. Or maybe,” he paused, as he reached under the table and brought out another tray with a cake twice as big and twice as delicious-looking as the previous one, and laid it on the table continuing, “you will discover that you are like this one here. Good on the outside and even better on the inside. Filled with substance, you know?”
Sierra lunged forward to cut out a slice from this new cake but was stopped mid-lunge by Stal’s hand.
“Patience, Sierra. I have something I want to say first.”
Diego gave another snort of amusement in Sierra’s direction. This time, Sierra quietly crushed Diego’s toes under his heel. A string of soft curses flew out of Diego’s mouth while Sierra stared straight ahead, feigning ignorance.
Stal sighed. “I am an old man now, so please have some consideration. You know what I am talking about. I’m talking about The Quest.”
“The Quest.” Both said in unison. Then they looked at each other, grinned and punched their fists, nodding, “Yeah!”
Over the years Stal had mentioned the Quest to them many times, telling them what a wonderful adventure it was and extolling the many virtues of going. But he never went into too much detail, always skimming around the many advantages of going. They had also noticed that their father was not just another ordinary guy. For instance, he was fast, real fast. In the time it took them to run one round around the house, Stal usually managed four. He was also extraordinarily strong. Every once in a while, Stal liked going to the neighborhood arena and taking part in friendly wrestling matches. Some of his opponents were large, burly men who looked like they could pound the walls to a pulp. These men never even managed to injure their dad, let alone make him lose. Also, he always seemed to be full of life and energy and never seemed to get tired. Even if he saw them off to school early in the morning, then slogged all day at the factory where he worked as a supervisor, came home and prepared all the meals and then spent quality time with them, helping them with homework and projects, he still looked fresh as a daisy at the end of the day. If they ever mentioned or pointed out these anomalies to Stal, he would wink and tell them that it was because he had gone for his Quest and that one day, he would explain more to them. “When!?” they would wail, and he would say, “When you turn eighteen.” And they would sulk away, knowing they would get no more out of him then. Both of them had known that Stal would bring the topic of the Quest up tonight, on their eighteenth birthday, and they intended to milk this opportunity to get him to talk to the fullest. They waited for him to go on.
Stal looked at their faces.
“My sons, you have both turned eighteen today. As you already know, this is the age when those who wish to do so, leave for the Sighing Mountains in order to discover and complete their Quests.”
“The Sighing Mountains…” repeated Diego, “that’s the creepiest place I’ve ever been to.”
“Yeah,” Sierra agreed, “totally gives me the creeps, too. I’ve only been there once, though. When did you go?”
Stal interrupted their discussion.
“I want to know if you have decided to go. You can only set out to seek your Quest once - when you turn eighteen. You know how it works. Every year, those who wish to go gather at the base of the Sighing Mountains from the twenty fifth of November to the twenty fifth of December. Within these thirty days is the one day when the mountains begin to sigh and the location of the Seekers Pass is revealed, and your journey begins.”
“Is that what’s known as the secret of the Sighing Mountains?” asked Sierra.
“Yes. The location of the Seekers Pass is different every year and it is a secret held closely by the mountains, until the time comes to reveal it. Once you begin the journey, however, you cannot leave unless you complete your Quest. It is risky, but then what in life isn’t? If it has its detriments, it also has a whole lot of merits. I want you to go because this is a once-in-a-life time opportunity and an amazing adventure. Your mother and I both wanted this; for you to grow up into capable young men and set out to complete your Quests.”
Stal’s gaze searched the faces of his sons.
“But what about our education? Don’t you want us to complete that?” asked Diego.
“My sons, if you wish to do so, you can always complete your studies once you come back. But remember, there is no teacher greater than this life. You will learn a hundred times more by going out there, facing you destiny and by fulfilling your Quest than you ever will inside a closed institution.”
Diego’s face was impassive but Sierra’s was a mask of excitement and indecision. Stal decided to press the advantage that he had gained.
“Both, your mother and I, went to seek our Quests and that is how we met. You too will meet your soulmate only if you set out to fulfill your Quest.”
“That’s it? We’re supposed to give up everything we know and that’s familiar to us, leave home, forget our friends, put everything on the line and shut ourselves from the world just to seek out one person?” Diego spoke this time. “Give me three billion more good reasons why I should go.” he said.
Stal sighed and took a moment to think before replying.
“The first billion good reasons are that your forefathers have all gone on this journey. They have all had the courage to take up the trial and face the challenge. Therefore, simply to continue the family tradition, you too must go. The Quest is more of a secret, passed down from generation to generation. Not everybody knows of it, and not everybody goes for it. The second billion good reasons? I will give you each a … rare, magical item to aid you in your journey. Something you will only get from me if you two agree to go.”
“What magical item?” interrupted Sierra, but Stal gave a resolute shake of his head.
“The items and their significance will be revealed to you later. Once we are at the Sighing Mountains. Now, the third billion good reasons…” Stal leaned forward and lowered his voice, lending an import and gravity to his next words in doing so. “When you seek your Quest, you will discover your Core Names. Your Core Name is the essence of your entire being encapsulated in a single word. Upon its discovery, you will unlock powers that you previously thought only super heroes in comics could possess. It could be anything. Maybe you will get the ability to fly. Maybe you will get X-ray vision. The possibilities are endless and it all depends on who you really are. It will give you immense power over -and understanding of- yourselves. You will achieve goals you thought impossible. It is the most unique feeling in the world; that of having complete knowledge of yourself and being at peace with it. Your Core name is knowledge. To have that knowledge is to have power. And once you find your soulmate, she will help you unlock the hidden meaning behind your core names, and make you complete. Surely you want all that?”
After several moments, Sierra spoke.
“Are you serious, dad? Will we really get to wield superpowers?”
“I am not pulling your leg.”
“Was mother’s core name Rayva?”
Stal’s features softened into a gentle smile as he remembered his wife.
“Ah, yes. Rayva.” He let the words fall lovingly from his lips. “Rayva’s core name was Ray. When we completed our Quests and joined the real world again, she decided to call herself Rayva, keeping her core name and adding a bit to it.”
As he spoke his eyes grew distant, as though trying to sift through some long-forgotten memories. He continued on;
“When I met your mother, I was going through a terrible phase, filled with hopelessness and despair. I had given up on ever completing
my Quest. But she stood by me like a rock. Giving me hope where there was none, seeing potential in me that didn’t exist before she came along. As we journeyed together in our endeavor to complete our Quests, she regularly helped other people along the way, too. She was like an angel of mercy. That was how I discovered the hidden meaning behind her core name. Her name was Ray because she was like a ray of sunshine on a dark cloudy day, a ray of hope. Nobody ever felt depressed or hopeless around her, and that is a tremendous thing to have. In my darkest moments, she would always tell me ‘When you find an obstacle impossible to overcome, just find someone you love enough to do it for.’” Stal smiled at the memory. “It always worked. ‘Have faith in yourself,’ She would say, ‘I do. I always have, always will …’” Stal’s eyes grew moist.
Diego saw Sierra wiping his eyes with the back of his hands and groaned audibly, “Aw man! Are you crying, too?”
“It’s just the onions.” sniffed Sierra.
“What onions?” asked Diego.
“The ones,” Sierra gritted through clenched teeth, “in the kitchen.” He glared at Diego in a silent warning to drop the subject if he wanted all his teeth to remain intact.
Stal cleared his throat, louder this time and both Diego and Sierra reluctantly turned to face him.
“Now,” Stal coughed self consciously, “I suppose you want to know about my Core Name?” Stal looked towards them expectantly. When neither challenged his statement, he decided to continue.
“My Core Name was Stallion. I didn’t change it on completing my Quest because Rayva preferred it this way. I was the boy who was always looking out for everybody. I was friendly, staunchly loyal and honest. Rayva said the qualities I possessed were very noble. Her ‘noble steed’ she called me. And that was it. My true trait was nobility, for horses are noble animals. With the revelation of the full meaning of my Core Name came many new discoveries. I acquired speed like no other. I could run as fast as a train and for hours without tiring. I became strong and sure of myself, dealing with problems and situations alike with a confidence and decisiveness I never knew I possessed. Even though I’ve slowed down considerably with age, I can still outrun the two of you put together any day, and you know it.” said Stal.