EA#29:
Read From the Beginning or the start of Trial Two or Three or Four or Five
The Mountain in the Clouds, Part Thirty-Two
“
There was a river of hate.
I could still remember it, rushing out of the crevice in the dried old rocky land.
And I was aware of the fact that my task was to find and release the river of love to counter it.
But I had no idea how to do that. My thoughts on the topic of love didn’t seem to be getting the same results as they had for hate.
Is hate so powerful?
So I approached the only destination that made sense at the moment. Well, honestly, it was the first option that I was aware of. And as I mention it, it doesn’t seem a necessarily sound reason to move forward.
But this twinkling of lights, this settlement I saw in the desert, behind the bushes and past the cricket noises… it was all I had to go on at the moment. So on I went.
When I brushed through the last of the thickets, I stepped into a more open area and could clearly make out the small encampment before me. I say encampment because it looked in most ways very much contained to the few buildings before me, but it was also more than a simple campground with tents around a campfire.
There was a fire, though, in the middle of the buildings. Everything was built, in fact, to surround the central fire pit. The hub of a wheel of homes. Or whatever they were. I heard metal clanking and it reminded me of the blacksmiths back home. Perhaps these were craftsmen, or miners or some sort of tradesmen.
Or outlaws.
The thought arrived in my head not so much as message of fear, but as a warning for my safety. Were they outlaws?
Yes, was the answer.
Great, I thought. So far this land of hate is fun. I wonder what they’ll make of me.
“Stop!” shouted an unfriendly voice. “Who are you, stranger?”
“I am Troy, a simple traveler,” I answered.
“What are you doing out here?” the voice pressed, and I could see the man who owned it walking out of one of the buildings. He was huge, a head of more taller than me and wide as perhaps three of me. He was all muscle, and wore a heavy blacksmith’s apron over leather pants. His shirtless top revealed scars and burns across his body.
“I noticed the lights and found my way here,” I told him.
“And what did you think you would find here?” the blacksmith said gruffly, spitting in the dirt to his side.
“Well,” I started, realizing I had no way to answer that sufficiently without sounding crazy, “I have been traveling for some time in the desert and haven’t come across any settlement yet. I was hopeful for a place to rest before I move on.”
“Hmm,” the other man pursed his lips in thought. “That’s strange… Because the desert you speak of is not like those remote, barren places in the west. This region is quite populated. I find it hard to believe you did not see any other place to stop. So why have you come here? Are you a bounty hunter?”
Wow, I thought to myself. This guy must be paranoid. If I were him, I would not ask a stranger such a question. It seems clear that he is expecting to be hunted. He has revealed more than I knew at the start.
“Bounty?” I asked. “Hardly. I don’t even know you.” Damn, I thought then. For a moment, I toyed with the idea that maybe I should run with the bounty hunter thing, play it up to my advantage, act tough. But perhaps it would not serve me well. Perhaps it would get me killed…
The blacksmith didn’t seem appeased by my answer, “Sounds like something a true bounty hunter might say.”
Then there appeared half a dozen others from all parts of the encampment, and three behind me from the bushes. Men and women, all armed to the teeth and looking quite menacing.
Great, I thought. I really should have thought my answer out more carefully.
“Ahem,” I caught their attention. “There is something, actually, that you should know before this gets out of hand.”
Some of them raised their eyebrows quizzically, but mostly they maintained their grimaces and continued to move towards me.
“I am a Magi,” I told them. Hey, it worked for me in the past, I thought.
Unfortunately, they didn’t buy it one bit. In fact, they all laughed uproariously.
“Good try, bounty hunter, you should have stuck with your first story,” the blacksmith said. He seemed to be the leader of the group. “Do you really think we’d believe load of shit like that? And why the hell would a Magi come to this ungodly place?”
“Ungodly?” I asked.
“You dolt,” the man shook his head. “Do you not know where you are? This is Raider’s Ridge. It’s the largest hub of outlaws in the east lands. You need a crime committed, you come here. We do all jobs. Theft, robbery, hijacking, murder, assassination. We are one of many organized groups for hire. We are called the Sinster Dangers, there’s nothing too sinister for us.”
In all my life I have never heard a more ridiculous tagline. I would have laughed if it didn’t feel like such a dire situation.
The blacksmith continued, “So I highly doubt you are some lost traveler. There is no way you just wandered in, past all the biggest crime organizations in this part of the world, and found your way to our little camp. Who sent you? What are they paying?”
I pondered my answer for a minute. I really didn’t know where to go with this one.
To my surprise, I had other things in store for me.
One of the outlaws stepped forward. She came halfway to me before stopping. I peered at her face. It took me a moment to realize who I was staring at. But she informed me first, just seconds before it dawned on me.
“You!” cursed my ex wife, Eleanor, who stood before me in a leather cuirass, with a thorned whip in her hand. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Finding myself in hell, it seems,” I threw back.
“You know this guy?” the blacksmith asked.
“Yea, I know him,” Eleanor said. “He’s the asshole who left me for another woman.”
“That’s not exactly how it went down,” I reminded her. “I was banished, and Maniea was throw behind bars.”
“You’re a liar,” she spat at me. “That’s exactly how it happened. You left me for that whore.”
“People, people,” said the leader, raising his muscled hands high. “Please, I really don’t care about your damned past, your petty relationship issues. Gods, I thought I left all that shit behind when I left my ex wife. What a bitch she was.”
Eleanor seemed shaken by the blacksmith’s comments. But she continued to rant, “Let’s tie him up. Let me show him what he means to me. Let me leave the scars on him that he left in me.”
The head outlaw shook his head but allowed it, “Whatever, Zel. Do what you want with him. I really don’t care. Just be quick, we’ve got a big job tomorrow. I want your head in the game for it. Don’t let this old drama distract you from what’s really important here. I took you in, I can as easily throw you back to the wolves. Go ahead,” he finished, and gestured her forward.
“Zel?” I asked as my ex came near me.
“That’s my name here,” she said.
“I guess Eleanor was too fancy sounding for them?” I chided.
“Shut up, you arrogant asshole,” growled the woman who was now called Zel.
She reached out to grab my wrist but I threw her off me. “Don’t touch me,” I demanded.
She tried again, but again I cast her arm aside. Then she lifted her whip over her shoulder. When she went to strike me, I simply moved to the side and her weapon only smacked on the ground, casting some dust in the air.
The outlaws laughed at her miss. In frustration she barked, “Someone help me tie him up!”
No one moved at first. After a moment, the leader wiped the smirk from his face and nodded to allow a couple of the outlaws to approach and help Zel grab me.
Surrounded as I was, I couldn’t stop them. They tied a heavy cord around my wrists with my arms behind my back. Then they pushed me forward roughly until I was on my knees. I nearly fell forward on my face, but they yanked hard on the cord to keep me upright.
The blacksmith sighed and turned to go back into the building from which he’d first appeared. The other outlaws were half intrigued, while others simply went back to their own business.
Zel circled me a few times, curling the whip through her hands like a precious thing. She had this terrible, hateful look on her face. Her eyes were blazing, like she truly enjoyed this opportunity to torture me.
At last she stopped behind me. She proclaimed this first, “You are a bastard, Troy! You destroyed my life, all my dreams, my family! You will pay!”
Then she let loose with her whip against my back. As the leather hit me, I reeled in pain. I felt the skin on my back crack open and bleed. And more blows came. Again and again she struck me. Before long, my shirt was in tatters and my entire back was covered in welts, cuts and bruises. The pain I experienced was excruciating. It was overwhelming. And then it became so much that I must have gone into shock. I shut down. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I had to tune out. I had to go somewhere else.
I was in a white place. It was all white. Only white. Above, below, around. Bright, white light.
Where am I? I asked.
You are here, was the answer. You are where you are. You are in this place. Welcome.
But where is here? I queried further.
This is the place you wanted to go. This is a safe place. This place cannot hurt you. Do you wish to stay here?
I don’t know, I said in my mind. How long can I stay?
Forever, the voice answered.
And I hung there in that white place, not sure what to do.
What happens if I stay? What happens if I return?
Gods, help me.
“
Thanks so much for reading.
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Blessings to you,
Matthew