by R A Oakes
The second crevasse had needed to be widened in places, but no steps were necessary. The natural tunnel traveled in a straight line, a very level straight line, for three miles. And it led to something of enormous importance, something worthy of the monks’ labor which had gone on for over half a century.
It led to the Sacred Cave, the monastery’s most hallowed shrine, an empty cave with nothing in it, nothing except for a golden glow of subdued light radiating from the walls. The Sacred Cave had been discovered before the site for the monastery had been selected. As the steps were carved and the two crevasses widened, the rock was provided to build the monastery.
The monks had been eating vegetables grown in megentum-enriched land for as long as anyone could remember. Megentum-enriched vegetables had enabled the trolls at the monastery to develop their keen intelligence, as well as their golden skin, golden eyes and golden hair. The Sacred Cave embodied all of this and more.
As the megentum-enriched vegetables enriched their lives, the megentum light from the Sacred Cave’s walls was believed to enhance their spirits. And the golden light, it was further believed, was due to the Cave’s possessing the greatest concentration of megentum dust anywhere. Not megentum metal itself but, much like the megentum-enriched earth used in growing vegetables, the rock walls of the Sacred Cave were enriched with megentum particles, ones as tiny as grains of sand.
To bask in the Cave’s golden light was to feel more reassured and more at peace than at any other place in or around the monastery. It also made the monks who went on a pilgrimage to the Sacred Cave more susceptible to the advice and counsel of the senior monks who led their spiritual retreat. The light from the Cave opened one’s heart and mind to instruction from the most seasoned and experienced of the monks, all of whom were ghosts. And the two most senior monks, Vangalaya and Xankar, were the most trusted spiritual counselors. Recently, Xankar had been leading more pilgrimages to the Sacred Cave than Vangalaya, who was the most senior monk of all.
It was vital that the spiritual counselors leading a pilgrimage be completely beyond reproach since his or her thoughts and feelings could prove to be very influential to those within the Sacred Cave’s aura. To be with Vangalaya or Xankar was to become more like them. But since both monks had won the trust of the monastic community, that was of little concern.
At least until now.
Rothena, Vangalaya and, most definitely, Yanpur were having their doubts about Xankar. And Xankar’s closest associates had accompanied him many times, falling more and more under his influence.
When Vangalaya, Raven, Dynarsis, Starlight and Andylan exited the monastery’s main entrance, the ancient monk glanced up at a level space between two small mountain peaks, a space which was about a quarter- of-a-mile directly above them, and she tried to put Xankar out of her mind. After doing so, Vangalaya said, “That, my friends, is our destination.”
Although Raven sensed that something was bothering the ancient monk, she followed Vangalaya’s lead and focused on current matters and said, “Master, this section of the trail looks particularly steep, so I’ll walk behind you, quite a ways behind, with your permission.”
“You’re right. As a ghost, hiking up the trail will be easier.”
“Yes, Master, and though I have much to learn from you, I do already know how to climb a difficult trail,” Raven said, with the hint of a smile on her lips, hoping to lighten her Master’s mood.
“Don’t tease an old woman. It’s not nice,” Vangalaya said with a smile, welcoming the distraction.
“I suspect you’re anything but a helpless, old woman, Master. I’m glad we’re on the same side. I wouldn’t want you for an enemy.”
“I feel the same way about you. Not wanting you for an enemy, that is, and certainly not meaning to suggest that you’d be helpless without me,” Vangalaya said, this time with a hint of a smile on her own lips.
“Raven helpless? If she ever was, we’d all be in trouble. She’s the most tenacious person I’ve ever known,” Dynarsis said, with Starlight and Andylan nodding eagerly in agreement.
“And that doesn’t surprise me at all.”
“Well, if you want to talk about surprises, Master, your being a warrior angel was quite a surprise. But what about the other ghost monks? Have any of them become angels?” Raven asked.
“No, at least not yet. The other ghost monks are here because they have unresolved issues that keep them from crossing over, and I’m trying to help them resolve those issues. However, on a related topic, some of our nearly-invisible monks are already calling you a ghost whisperer. They’ve discovered that you’re able to see them and communicate with them easier than any other living individual they’ve ever known. Yes, you’ve been deemed to be a ghost whisperer.”
“I suppose that’s the nicest thing any of them have called me, Master. I’m sure there are other names you’d rather not tell me about.”
“Well, with a little luck, that might change.”
“I wouldn’t count on it, Master. My luck’s never been very good.”
Before Vangalaya could respond, she heard a loud screeching noise overhead and, looking up, saw a raven with its wings folded tightly against its sides dropping like a stone in their direction.
Having experienced this many times, Raven quickly stepped away from the others and lifted her face to the sky allowing the huge bird to get a good look at her. Slowing its descent, the raven spread its wings and tail feathers, slightly altered its trajectory and plummeted directly at the ghost whisperer. Yet Raven made no attempt to defend herself. Instead, she trusted her namesake, knowing all ravens were mischievous by nature but also capable of amazing aerial displays.
At the last moment, before colliding with the ghost whisperer, the huge bird pulled up and swooped past Raven, its chest feathers almost brushing her face. Next, as it flapped its wings and gained altitude, the raven let out a harsh, raspy, “C-r-o-c-k, c-r-o-c-k, c-r-o-c-k,” the screeching sounds echoing off the mountainside.
“I’ve never been this close to a raven before,” Vangalaya whispered. “It’s the largest bird I’ve ever seen.”
“They have a four-foot wingspan and are two-feet tall. They’re also as smart as wolves and just as fearless,” Starlight informed the ancient monk.
“How do you know this?” Vangalaya asked.
“We’ve been living with Raven’s relatives for years,” Starlight said, nodding towards Dynarsis and Andylan.
“Raven’s relatives?”
“I think that was Bold Spear,” Starlight said, looking over at Raven for confirmation. The ghost whisperer nodded and smiled while watching the raven as it soared high above them screeching, “C-r-o-c-k, c-r-o-c- k, c-r-o-c-k!”
“Are your relatives always this noisy?” Vangalaya asked.
“I suspect she’s taking credit for finding me, as well as letting other ravens know where I am,” the ghost whisperer said, smiling again.
“I knew they’d be searching for you,” Andylan said. “Once we entered the cavern south of Hawthorn Village, they probably fanned out in all directions looking for Zorya, Renivy and you.”
At that moment, while the travelers and the ancient monk were still watching the sky, almost two-dozen ravens appeared and began circling the monastery. Shortly afterwards, a few broke away from the group and began flying southeast in the direction of Woodcliff Village. Looking over at Raven, Andylan said, “I think the monastery’s about to experience a full-fledged reunion between the ravens and their three favorite humans.”
“How many bird friends, bird relatives, should we expect?” Vangalaya asked.
“At least 100 of them by tomorrow morning with more on the way,” Dynarsis informed the ancient monk.
Next, as Raven was about to head up the trail, she paused and listened to the outpouring of excitement from the ravens. The birds’ raspy voices were cutting through the air like harsh thunder, “C-R-O-C-K! C-R-O-C-K! C- R-O-C-K!”
Monks who had been inside th
e main entrance came out to see what the noise was all about. Many of them, living monks and ghost monks, covered their ears and looked up in amazement as dozens of screeching birds plummeted from the sky. However, shortly before reaching the ground, they spread their wings and zoomed by so closely that the monks could feel the wind rustle their hair. After circling directly over the monastery, the ravens made themselves at home, perching on various roofs, especially on a variety of warm chimneys, as well as on any post or beam sticking out from the walls.
“Ravens are nothing but aggressive, belligerent scavengers. What are they doing here?” one monk asked, glaring at Raven, suspecting that she was somehow responsible.
Vangalaya was surprised by the animosity in his voice, not being used to hearing such negative sentiments at the monastery. However, after remembering that he was one of Xankar’s closest associates, she said, “There’s no reason for being upset. These birds are part of our natural environment and should be welcomed.”
“I’ve never seen this many crows before, not around here,” another monk said.
“Well, they’re not actually crows, they’re ravens. Crows are much smaller,” Vangalaya informed him.
Suddenly, Bold Spear landed on Raven’s right shoulder, and the ghost whisperer smiled at her and stroked the feathers on her neck. Having the huge bird perched on her shoulder made the animal appear even larger. Not counting the tail feathers, Bold Spear was indeed two-feet tall from head-to-toe, and she towered above the ghost whisperer.
When Bold Spear screeched out a greeting, Raven wanted to cover her ears but didn’t want to insult her friend who was simply happy to see her. So, instead, Raven stroked the purplish-black feathers on the animal’s chest.
“Well, you can’t just let these birds stay here,” a third monk said, this one a woman. “They’ll have to go.”
“Go where?” Vangalaya asked.
“I don’t know, but they can’t stay here.”
“And why not?” Vangalaya asked, as she realized this monk was also one of Xankar’s close associates.
“They’re boisterous and disruptive,” the monk insisted.
“But they’re this woman’s relatives,” Vangalaya said, indicating Raven. “So, they’re our guests as well.”
Xankar’s associates looked at Raven in surprise and then with scorn. But when the woman spoke, she did so in a courteous manner. “That makes a big difference, Master. And I’m sure they’re the perfect relatives for our guest. I’m happy for her.”
Even though the words sounded polite, Vangalaya suspected that the female monk was actually saying the ravens were perfect for an uncivilized human. And when Xankar’s associates went back inside, the ancient monk knew they were going to report this new development to him.
Heaving a sigh, Vangalaya said, “Well, let’s proceed with our hike. As you suggested, Raven, I think I will go on ahead of you.”
“That’s fine, Master, and it’s a wise decision.”
As the four friends and their new mentor headed up to a small plateau above the monastery, most of the ravens accompanied their namesake. But a few remained behind to keep an eye on the mountain trail and the monastery, although the latter from a distance.
After Vangalaya, Raven, Dynarsis, Starlight and Andylan had reached the plateau, the ancient monk and her new student walked off by themselves while the others remained near the top of the trail. Even the ravens kept their distance, though they kept a close watch, perching on the small mountain peaks on either side of the plateau.
Once Raven and her mentor were alone, Vangalaya said, “You’ve endured much over the years, more than others endure in a lifetime. However, it might help you to gain a sense of inner-peace if you try meditating upon that rock.”
“There are many rocks around here, Master, which one do you mean?”
“The small one at your feet.”
“But I could hold that one in my hands. Wouldn’t it be better if I focused on something larger, like a boulder?”
“No, that smaller one will do.”
Looking at the gray stone in question, Raven sat down, crossed her legs, placed her hands on her knees and said, “You want me to look at this rock, that’s all?”
“Yes, just look upon it.”
“For how long?”
“Forever.”
“You’re not serious?” Raven said, smiling up at her mentor.
“I’m being quite serious.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
Raven looked at the small rock, sighed a little and gradually began to study it. She noticed that the rock was in the shape of an oval, had a smooth surface and was dark gray except for a chip on one side that was lighter in color. Almost half the rock was in shadow making it an even deeper gray. It was directly in front of her, about eight inches away. The ground under the rock appeared to be level, but the ground next to it tilted slightly to the left. And Raven noticed one thing more. Making even these simple observations made her head hurt.
Looking up and glancing around at the small mountain peaks along the ridge, Raven heaved a great sigh. She was tired, though not so much physically as mentally. She didn’t want to think about anything. She was tired of evaluating situations, formulating strategies and fighting battles. For years, that’s all she’d ever done, and she’d had enough of it.
Yes, villagers throughout the region had been grateful for everything she and her warriors had done for them. But the demands of war on one’s inner-spirit, on one’s soul, were far greater than anyone who’d never been in battle could possibly imagine. Gratitude could never fill the emptiness, the parched feeling inside that war created deep within a warrior. It seemed like the only thing worse than fighting a war, a war with a clear sense of purpose, was not fighting it.
But as Raven considered the risks involved in entering Gratuga to obtain the all-important megentum to create Baelfire, the futility of such an action was overwhelming. The walls of life began closing in on her leaving the ghost whisperer with no viable options, and she felt lost.
Reason had failed her. Life had failed her. There was no point at all in even trying to move forward. For the very first time in her life, Raven surrendered to the forces working against her and gave up. She hung her head and yielded to the inevitability of failure. It was devastating and tore what was left of her weary soul in two.
Vangalaya watched Raven carefully and realized her student was inching her way towards the edge of a precipice. The ancient monk had seen other students approach this stage, yet almost all had faltered. Having the courage or indifference to one’s fate that would enable an individual to drop into the darkness of one’s soul was rare. Vangalaya wondered whether Raven could do it and held her breath, knowing that only by entering the darkness could her new student discover that it was the path to enlightenment.
Having nothing left to lose, Vangalaya knew, was often the beginning of life and not the end.
Suddenly, without saying a word, Raven stepped into the abyss and discovered the light. And when Vangalaya saw a smile on Raven’s face, she knew her student had begun a new life.
“I understand,” Raven whispered.
“I know you do,” Vangalaya replied quietly.
“I could stay here all day,” Raven whispered, having no desire to move.
“Yes,” Vangalaya replied, also in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the moment of Raven’s rebirth with words, knowing they would be difficult for her to hear and to process.
Raven realized there wasn’t any reason to move, no reason to leave. All of life could be experienced right here. Looking at the peaks along the ridge, she spoke another new awareness aloud saying, “The mountains are alive. They just live at a slower pace.”
“Yes,” Vangalaya said once more, pleased with Raven’s insight.
Sensing movement on her left, Raven looked over to where her friends were standing and noticed that Galaxen and Rothena had joined them. The ghost whisperer watched Vanga
laya walk over to the abbots, and they were soon engaged in an animated discussion.
“It’s time to allow Raven to make a pilgrimage to the Sacred Cave,” Vangalaya said, much to Galaxen’s surprise.
“But she’s only just arrived, Master Vangalaya. Most novices don’t make their first pilgrimage for several months. Some have waited for almost a year until they’re ready.”
“Raven is ready now.”
“She hasn’t even been here for a full day.”
“She’s ready.”
“I’m not sure the monastery’s ready for such a radical departure in procedure, especially regarding a human,” Galaxen replied, looking awkwardly at Dynarsis and Andylan while adding, “I mean no offense.”
“None taken,” Andylan replied, and Dynarsis nodded in agreement.
“Even so, she’s ready,” Vangalaya insisted.
“I would urge caution, Master. Why not let Raven wait for a few months. It would give the monks a chance to get more used to her,” Galaxen reasoned.
“We don’t have time to wait for a few months. Meat-eating trolls are on the move now.”
“What about Xankar?” Galaxen asked. “Yanpur came back to the great hall in tears and was nearly hysterical. She says that Xankar, in the deepest recesses of his heart, is devious and power hungry. And what shocks me even more than a novice making such an accusation is that my wife agrees with her.”
“I’ve had my suspicions about Xankar for a while,” Rothena said.
“And you kept such information from me? Was that wise?”
“You weren’t ready to hear it.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to hear it now.”
“I was the one closest to him. He was my student for years, and I didn’t see it or suspect it until recently. If anything, the fault is mine,” Vangalaya said.
“Regardless of whose fault it is, Master, we have a serious problem if it’s true,” Galaxen said. “Many of our monks view him as your heir. They feel he’ll, one day, be the monastery’s next spiritual leader.”
