The Tumult
Tzalaii is taken to a far away desert Island; after drinking a the coll beverage, he hears the true war taking place – the one that is going on in his mind…
Warriors of Transcendence, Part 25
The storm was over. Tzalaii was certain that the arrogant soldiers were leading him to the Towered City. After venting their anger to Tzalaii on the loss of their comrades and belongings, they became silent. When the second boat reached them, the warriors of the Lead Level, white flames etched onto the corners of their garments, performed their tasks flawlessly.
There were three warriors in each boat. Two were oarsmen while one observed the waters, serving as navigator. The stern, silent warriors relaxed a bit and shared their bread rations with their prisoner, but they spoke only when necessary. Tzalaii inquired about their destination, and the chief warrior pointed towards the distant shores, announcing almost kindly: “To the Tumult”. Tzalaii had never before heard of such a place.
In five days time, the warriors and their prisoner prepared to dock at a small, hidden stone harbor. Long sandy beaches, dozens of gray birds circling above them, came into view. At the sight of the beaches, Tzalaii was eager to explore, but he was led to the vast front porch of a large stone cabin at the top of a hill overlooking the sea. From an old wooden bench on the porch he was able to see the entire expanse of the coast below. The warriors commanded Tzalaii to sit and wait, while they entered the stone cabin.
Is this the ‘Tumult’? Such a strange name for a place so serene… thought Tzalaii.
Had he not been fearful of the future, Tzalaii would have allowed himself to relax and fill his lungs with the fresh sea air. Down below, small waves crashed onto an outcropping of rocks. The sea here was a deep, dark blue, unlike the turquoise color of the sea he loved so dearly back at home. Beyond the house, the island was covered in dense foliage. Massive tree trunks towered into the sky, their branches reaching out protectively over fruit trees.
A woman dressed in white emerged from the stone house, bearing a blue-tinted beverage. Placing the drink next to Tzalaii, she quickly returned to the house. Not one word was spoken. Tzalaii gazed at the drink, enjoyed its refreshing aroma and realized how thirsty he was. Though the water he had been given in the boat had quenched his thirst, the chilled drink before him had an altogether different effect. With each sip, Tzalaii sensed new life flowing into his body. The flavor was somewhat reminiscent of the sour crimson fruit he had eaten during his journey in the Green Lowlands, though this drink was even more delicious, and delicately spiced.
Just as he took the last few sips of his drink, Tzalaii heard a soft melody coming from the cabin. The tune had had a deep, inner intensity that captivated Tzalaii completely. A pleasant sea breeze blew through the treetops, swaying them gently. The sun was setting and the air was clear. The entire landscape possessed such transparent clarity, leading Tzalaii to feel as though he could see way beyond the horizon. The waves, the melody, the wind and the sea were so full of life! The color of the sand transformed from yellow to golden, and as he watched, Tzalaii was able to see each grain of sand as a distinct picture, well defined and eternal. Life pumped through each and every grain. Profound life… movement and desires… knowledge and understanding. Tzalaii became fearful, lest he disappear into a grain of sand! Everything he saw resembled a gate, and he felt that if he were to continue gazing, each gate would open up and he would pass through them into new worlds. Maybe the gates would shut behind him, and he would never be able to return to his own world?
His own world? And what is his own world? And why was it preferable to the fascinating, minuscule world of a single grain of sand? For everything was so full of life! What was the meaning of Tzalaii’s life in comparison to the thousands and thousands of living creatures in his midst?
What is happening to me? A fleeting thought entered Tzalaii’s consciousness and then disappeared into the eternal intensity of a grain of sand. The beverage continued to work its wonders. Tzalaii got up, tears of joy streaming down his face. He had a strong desire to embrace the immense beauty in his midst, to hold each grain of sand in his hand and nurture it, caress it, calm it, and grant it love and joy.
But how can a simple man embrace such a great multitude of worlds? How can a little, lost man be responsible for caring for so many creatures?
Suddenly images of people from the past flashed before his eyes: Friends from the village, acquaintances…and he felt compelled to embrace them, too, and protect them. But from what? He did not know. Overcome by the intensity of the moment, he felt empowered and with total conviction he told himself: Nothing is beyond my reach. If I desire, I shall enter a grain of sand and lose myself inside it. If I want, I shall fly like a bird into the heavens.
“You cannot do any of that,” whispered a small voice from within, infuriating Tzalaii by this interruption of his vision. “But you can contribute your voice, and you can add another note to perfect the song,” The melody grew louder, as if to swallow the voice and block out his words. Tzalaii could hear the song of the stars and the movement of the sea waves, and could sense life pulsating in distant galaxies as well as in the tiny leaves growing on the nearby bushes. Like a master surrounded by his servants, he stood up and listened.
“You too must sound your voice before the great King,” the small voice spoke to him once again, barely audible, from a distance. Tzalaii could now feel life pulsating from within. The sensation struck him so forcefully that he became dizzy. Somehow, in all the intensity, he managed to let his own thoughts stream into his consciousness.
“I am the great king!” he declared, flooded with feelings of grandeur.
“You are but a vessel receiving a wondrous blessing, in song and gratitude,” answered the moments of silence between pulsations. Tzalaii was being tossed around between the voices. “Make a choice!” the voice spoke to him for the final time.
“Don’t choose! Allow yourself to be swept away…” the sounds of the universe tempted him.
“I am the great king!” he stood erect and raised his head toward the heavens. “This is all mine. I formed all of the creatures, and I have the power to change them according to my will!”
From deep within his powerful vision, his creatures began calling him, their spirits raging and begging: “Creator! Touch me! Grant me life!”
Winds of many variations blew past him. Winds of the sand, winds of the sea, winds of the fish, and winds of the heavens, winds of stone and winds of man, winds of the past and winds of the future.
They all pleaded to Tzalaii: “Creator! Touch me!”
Graciously, he pardoned each and every creature with the touch of his hand. A loving, regal touch. A brave, bonding caress, like that of a woman to the unborn child within her. The sun had already set, but the inner light was still visible to Tzalaii. The tune was no longer audible, yet Tzalaii could still hear it being played in his mind. The sounds opened new worlds in him, daring heights and an endless horizon of royalty.
To be continued.
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