Thoughts in the forest

[Zen]

(A tale from Kylan)

I snapped to consciousness suddenly, finding, much to my surprise, that the clearing was dark. "I must have dozed off", I surmised to myself. The last I remembered I was leaning against the tree, lost in my thoughts, and it was at least 3 hours till sundown.

I took the wineskin from my pack, uncorked it and took a deep, refreshing drink of water from it before pouring some over my face. The sudden chill waking me more completely and rousing me fully to my senses.

The moonlight filled the clearing through the break in the forest canopy above the enclave. A breeze gently tugged at the treetops, setting them to sway to a hidden, hypnotic beat. I glanced up at the heavens through the gap. It was a clear night, with only a few wispy clouds brushing across the sky. The stars twinkled brightly, which made it easier to get a rough idea of the time. One, maybe two hours past midnight. I'd more than just dozed.

I stretched my tired muscles and rubbed at the crick in my neck, sleeping in the deep forests could sometimes make anybody think about warm, soft beds, and I was no exception.

I paused for a moment, trying to remember how long it'd been now since I had slept anywhere but the forests, how long it'd been since I set out on this self-imposed exile to the deep forest in the quest for answers only I could provide myself with. I hadn't been counting the days, but it could only have been two months at most. It felt much longer; it certainly felt like a lifetime since...

My thoughts trailed back to times long gone and a frown creased my brow as my mind swept through the memories and questions that had brought me to my sojourn. The questions invading the memories like a critical narrator.

Hungry, I pulled my cloak tight around myself, set myself to the task of building up a small campfire and started scouring the clearing and treeline for small rocks and potential firewood.

My carefree early days as a druid, roaming the wilderness, shielded from the cruelties of the world by the total belief that the great cycle was eternal - that no matter what came, life would survive, protected from total insignificance by the belief that there was a grand plan, that everything had a role to play in the universe.. Had I ever been so naive? How could I have been so mindlessly swept up by the druidic mantras?

Dropping a small bundle of wood down next to me, I arranged the rocks into a small ring, fetched some dried moss and wood from my pack and carefully built up a kindling pyre. Flint, steel and patience all I needed for the rest.

As I blew on the smouldering kindling, the memories marched forward, through countless struggles and over fantastic landscapes, dredging up the faces of friends and foes long gone, marching forward till they paused over a scene of devastation unlike any other. A dark and evil looking fortress, surrounded by the blackened stumps of the decimated forest that once stood there, devoid of all life but those that dwelled in the fortress and the twisted, thorny vines that appeared to be trying so hard to grow in the near-dead soil. The nonchalant indifference of The Great Druid, the unwillingness of the Druidic Order to fight this foe. The lectures. The arguments. The eventual separation from my brethren in the guild.. We're they right? Was I wrong? Could the cycle truly be stopped, as I now believed?

Adding more wood to the fire, I sat down and absently poured some water from my wineskin into a cook-pot, and set it on the edge of the campfire to boil whilst I chopped some vegetables and fetched a few choice herbs from my pouches.

I didn't care about being right or wrong at all. Being right or wrong in this seemed truly irrelevant when stood next to what was at stake. Life. Not just human, elven or dwarven life, all life. Was I over-reacting? I'd seen the devastation, I saw a force and a will that, should it gain in power and number, could surely unfurl a wave of destruction that would annihilate all life in its path. Perhaps, somewhere, a tiny spark of life would survive and find a way. I wasn't sure, and I was far from happy to sit back and just wait to find out. It was too big an 'if'.

A sigh escaped me as the memories came on, striding through the times of crushing depression that had followed my realisation that I was too small and too insignificant to stand up to this problem, to make a difference. The memories scrambled through my rebirth, my determination, the steely belief that despite the futility I should try anyway, that perhaps the process of trying would buy the time others needed to make a true difference.

Where had all this got me?

Certainly I had gained in strength. My skills were still woefully inadequate to take on a force so huge by myself, but they *had* grown considerably. I had spells at my disposal I had could never have imagined even existing, let alone me knowing how to cast them, and my abilities in their casting had grown stronger and only recently started to slow.

Yet despite even the ability to traverse from one corner of the lands to another in a matter of moments, the hidden location of the group still completely eludes me. I can't so much as find them and all the while they're no doubt growing in strength and number.

If I couldn't find them, how could I even TRY to change anything?

I stirred the steaming stew absently.

Where could my development go from here?

My feud with the Druidic hierarchy had finally reached a bitter impasse and they'd simply refused to stop letting me train in the groves. My skills with a blade were reaching the limits of what I could teach myself, and the rangers were stubbornly refusing to share their secrets with me.

What could more could I do?

My train of thought was shattered as I suddenly burnt my lip. I'd taken the cook-pot off the heat and filled my bowl generously unconsciously, but had then simply forgotten to blow on a steaming spoonful of very hot stew.

Taking a swig from the wineskin to soothe my lip, I stared into the fire and resumed my midnight meal more carefully, whilst my mind resumed its quiet consideration.

I didn't believe in any "grand plan" anymore, no universal destiny tugging gently at everybody. Despite my insignificance I was starting to believe I could actually make a difference though, given the chance. Not much of a difference, and even less than I'd like. If making that difference involved sacrificing myself so that others who followed may have more success, so be it. It was a price I was willing to pay. It was something to hold on to, and I knew it.

I lay back on the ground, using my pack as a pillow and stared up into the starry night, the silhouette of the fire burned into my vision slowly giving way to the twinkling dots of light.

The real thing that was bothering me, was that although I knew I could make a difference, I wasn't sure it would be enough.

If the druids would just allow me to train more, or the rangers would just understand what a difference their instructions could make to my chances, what a difference I could make with their teachings. Sadly, neither seems ready to relent.

It was likely no others would follow anyway, and then the potential difference I would have made would count for nothing at all. I didn't doubt that some of my Druidic brethren would, in the end, fight when the fight was brought to them, to save what was directly before them. By then of course it would be too little too late.

I knew it wasn't completely hopeless, truly I did. I knew that the more I could learn now, the more skills I could take with me when the time came, the more impact I could have, the bigger chance for it to count for something.

"It only takes a pebble to start an avalanche", I mumbled to myself, and for once I believed it.

I smiled to myself, happy that I seemed to have finally convinced myself of something that I'd known all along, but doubted till now.

I relaxed at last, finally certain, finally comfortable with the choices I'd made. I was at last sure I could keep going, sure that when the time came, I'd be there and I'd make a difference.

My smile broadened and I lay there, content to simply watch the stars glitter and the wispy clouds slowly drift across the sky. Finally at ease.

[Sothis]

(OOC: Wow, can you write my college English papers for me? I'm serious too by the way.)

Sneaking through the shadows in the forest, I came upon this half-elf sitting next to a small fire. I slipped behind the tree next to him and observed him for some time. He seemed to be from the ranger or druid guild, or something of the likeness, with him casually sitting around in the forest at night. As he finally finished his meal and laid his head back, I snuck up next to him and looked at all of his belongings and armor. I thought to myself that this half-elf must have been a high ranked druid as I noticed all of his armor up close. Time was running out, daybreak would be coming soon so I had to hurry. I glanced again at this sleeping half-elf and made a mental picture of him in my head. I wondered to myself how this well ranked half-elf would carelessly burn himself with his stew, as I saw him from behind the tree. Something must be bothering this person, but what....or who? All of a sudden he started to wake and looked right where I 'was' standing earlier, looked all around him carefully, then laid his head back down. As I watched him lay there, I slyly snuck further on into the woods, returning to my original business.