Storm at Sea
The waves grew fiercer, the darkness thickened and he was lost. The storm had enveloped Tzalaii and he could no longer see the shore…
Warriors of Transcendence, Part 16
“This material seems like an alloy of various metals,” said the Village Chief after a prolonged silence. “But it seems that it is also composed of an unknown, foreign substance…”
Tzalaii stood before the Chief, feeling humiliated. This ambiguous evaluation did not give him the proof he sought to justify the dangerous risks he had taken in his daring venture. Though his friends had given him the title Most Courageous, this status had only brought him sadness.
After returning from his journey, he felt a need to share his experiences with a figure of authority. Despite his shame and great embarrassment, he turned to the Village Chief, the man who had adopted him and his sister many years ago and had been like a father to them. Tzalaii told him of his journey to the wall in great detail, though he said nothing about the Magnathought Crystal or how he had made use of it. The Village Chief reacted with a silence that only increased Tzalaii’s feelings of shame. A strong verbal rebuke might have been easier for the youth to accept. He feared that the Village Chief’s ominous silence was caused by the severity of his foolish adventure.
Puzzled, he excused himself and headed towards the sea. The afternoon breeze was calm and tranquil. Roosters crowed and a lone donkey brayed. The smell of cooking was in the air. Children gazed at him as he walked down the trail. Did they know about his journey? Restless and completely at odds with the serenity in his midst, he made his way down the paths towards the beach. Several boats were visible on the horizon. The surface of the sea was smooth, revealing the sand in its depth. “What is the purpose of all this?” he wondered. The image of the Towered City permeated his thoughts, and he was unable to rid himself of it no matter how hard he tried. In any case all is lost…he thought. The words of the warriors near the burning flame of the Towered City echoed in his heart, and he felt that his loss was greater than he could fathom. What had vanished was terrible and powerful.
Soon he reached the clean, white, welcoming sand. A flock of squawking birds took flight and then landed on a cluster of rocks jutting out of the water. Tzalaii felt deserted, alone with his troubled spirit. He sat down on the familiar beach, feeling tired and lonely. He looked at the water… and into the distant horizon…etched circles in the sand unconsciously as the wind blew in from the sea and comforted his soul. And then he slept. When he awoke, the sun was already setting. He shook off the sand that had settled on his clothing and sensed that he was not alone. Sihara was there. She was tall; her eyes were deep and expressed an inner charm. His sister, Sihara, with her deep eyes had brought comfort to so many. She had the power to relieve the suffering of those in despair. Despite her young age, she had been a source of hope to so many. To Tzalaii she was all that and more- his sole blood relative.
“I fell asleep…,” he mumbled, embarrassed that she had found him dozing in the sand.
“That’s alright,” she answered simply; “I thought you might need some help.” Offering comfort in time of need was her most natural and automatic response.
“No…no,” he answered timidly; “Soon I shall return home.”
Sihara was aware of Tzalaii’s tempestuous spirit, and let him be. She turned around and walked away. Tzalaii felt well rested now. Despite his decision to return to the village, he reconsidered and remained at the shore. He sat down, refreshed, and looked at the darkening sky and sea. It was essential for him to cheer himself up with a positive thought.
A positive thought? Questioned an inner voice, mockingly, attempting to bring back the threatening memories from the great valley.
“Yes,” he answered confidently, as he skipped a smooth stone in the water.
He recalled a walk on the beach several months earlier. He had gone down to the sea and wandered far away from the village, finally arriving at an ancient fortress. There was a storm at sea, and light rain filled the air with small droplets. Seeking refuge, he entered the fortress. He remembered childhood stories about an ancient battle. On several occasions he had searched this area, hoping to find a sign or an ancient artifact. On one such outing, also on a rainy day, he had approached a cave located on the Southern side of the fortress, only to find that the entrance to the cave was blocked. The rain had eroded part of the sandstone, causing an inner wall to collapse and filling most of the cave with broken stones. Only a small area inside the cave remained dry. As he tried making his way through the debris of this small opening, he stumbled upon a firm object. There he found a shiny blue Crystal artifact, the size of a child’s fist and almost completely flat. Next to the shiny Crystal Tzalaii had unearthed a second object- a golden piece of cloth that he rescued from the crumbling sandstone. The cloth looked as if it had been excised by a sword or blade.
How strange, thought Tzalaii, an antiquity should look worn out, but this piece of cloth appears to be newly woven. Had someone worn this elaborate piece? Villagers in the Land of the Ancient Progeny had worn simple clothing. Was this, perhaps, a remnant from an ancient battle? The battle he had dreamed about?
After the rain, Tzalaii had exited the cave and returned to the shore. There he washed the sand- encrusted Crystal artifact and examined the golden cloth overlay surrounding it. The Crystal piece was entirely sealed on one side, and the other side was deep blue in color. Tzalaii noticed that if he looked into the blue side for a long, long time, a delicately etched tree would appear; its thin roots widening as they reached the trunk, which was exceptionally broad, and its branches stretching upwards like aspiring hands. At first Tzalaii held the object like a child examining a new toy, then he used it to reflect rays of light onto the water. Several weeks later, when he was alone on the beach one night, he discovered an unusual feature. Fully aware of the impossibility of concentrating sunlight onto water at night, he began to play with the Crystal artifact, and a strangely ridiculous thought entered his mind: If the object is capable of concentrating rays of light, maybe it is also capable of concentrating thoughts?
Where did this idea come from? He wondered. Did it come from the Crystal object itself?
Tzalaii attempted to concentrate his thoughts utilizing the Crystal piece. Concentrating, he gazed at it, directing his thoughts towards a specific place on the beach. A small pebble rolled off the beach and into the water. He stood at a distance from the pebble, merely thinking about it and imagining it rolling into the water, and it happened! Shocked, he dropped the Crystal artifact and it fell to the ground but the soft sand cushioned its landing.
Tzalaii now recalled the use he had made of the mirror during his encounter with the Tower Warriors, as well as at the wall. Memories of the Towered City returned and his mood worsened. He turned around and started walking up the dirt path leading to the village. Someone, hidden from view, was watching him silently from the hills. Someone who felt his pain, possibly even more deeply than he did. She herself was not yet consciously aware of the boy’s deep dependence upon her courageous heart. It was Sihara.
In the following weeks, Tzalaii spent most of his time on the beach. He had become increasingly confused and uneasy. There had to be a way, he thought, to absolve himself of his childish act. Tzalaii enjoyed watching the fishermen sailing in their boats, and following their activities. Their faces were blistered by the sun, their arms wrinkled, and their clothes rudimentary and encrusted with sea salt. He would often join them, helping as much as possible, though speaking very little. When the weather was stormy and only the most courageous fishermen set sail and went out to battle the waves, Tzalaii joined with them in their brave feats. The sea, whether dark or pale, always sparked Tzalaii’s curiosity. He yearned to see foreign lands, to reach unknown depths, to conquer obstacles and to return home with great treasures. No, not fish. Pearls maybe, or diamonds. Something valuable, never before discovered. He refrained from sharing these daydreams with his friends. They thought that his love for the sea was a result of his innate ability to manage a boat and sail it well. Only Sihara understood Tzalaii’s deep grief and the comfort he found at sea.
One day Tzalaii was out fishing, when an exceptionally strong storm blew in, distancing him from the other fishermen. The sky above was dark, as was the sea. A great gust of wind carried the waves to great heights and sent them crashing down into the depths. The sea and sky growled like a creature of prey, mocking a helpless victim.
Waves crashed down all around Tzalaii’s small craft. The fishermen were isolated from each other by lack of visibility and the crashing sounds of the waves. Although Tzalaii usually trusted his excellent control of the sail and helm, he understood that it would be different this time. The waves grew fiercer, the darkness thickened and he was lost. The storm had enveloped him and he could no longer see the shore. At first he was stunned, but quickly came to his senses realizing that he could not afford to allow his fear to win. He gathered all his strength and skill in order to prevent the wind from tearing the sails or capsizing the boat. Drenched to the bone, breathless and exhausted, the boy fought for his life. Many hours passed, hours of black skies and thunderous waves, hours of salty tears and drenching seawater. Just as Tzalaii began to lose his strength, the storm began to subside. He dropped onto the floor of the boat helplessly. The sails were torn to shreds and the boat was carried to and fro by the wind. No light was visible, near or far. His heart felt empty, though his lips found the strength to gasp: I want to live!A deep yearning suddenly overcame him. His physical strength had expired, making way for the strength of his spirit and its desires. He began to think about the ancient magical kingdom he had heard of in the village legends.
Did it truly exist? Will the world ever become a better place, full of light?
His head spun around heavily. The boat continued to drift. He felt cold in the chilly night and suffered from extreme thirst.
Maybe it is better this way, he thought in despair. If not by storm, I will lose my life by dehydration or exposure. This is my punishment for stealing the rock from the wall…I am being punished by the Descendents of the Emperors. There is no escaping them. He blindly felt his way around the floor of the boat, searching for something to hold on to. Wet, smooth planks were all he found. As his hands slipped and he lost his grip, Tzalaii collapsed and fell into a deep sleep.
The first light of dawn appeared and Tzalaii, awakening from a dream, opened his eyes, his dream still present in his consciousness: A tall noble man, wearing a crown, was trying to say something…words of comfort. Silvery streaks danced on the water, promising tranquility. A light breeze hovered overhead and all was silent, like at the beginning of time. The grueling night was over and in its place, such a wonderful, gentle morning. Tzalaii felt himself transported, guided and protected. His dream King still smiled at him. As he continued to think of him, he spied dry land in the distance.
To be continued.
***
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