Faith

Countless shames plague me as I fork over the precious gold coins to Captain Stratos and board the Serendipitous. Most people would count this a blessing, some so bold as to claim it a miracle. Few people manage to secure an airship flight to visit the one known only as ‘He Whose Gaze Pierces Fate.’ Even fewer are granted an audience with the enigmatic seer. Almost everyone who does claims they leave the place emboldened, enlightened, impassioned. But for me there is no honor in this trip; there is no mirth, no giddiness, no fulfillment. I am distraught and wracked with guilt. Were I a better commander this’d be an elaborate waste of time and a squander of the army’s coin. A necessary evil, a wise precaution, a fresh perspective. All these things my mind tries to convince myself this course of action is. And yet…

I take my seat in the booth at a lovingly crafted but well worn and stained table, hands clasped together. I’ve never been a person of faith, as I’ve found the gods play favorites and their favors are fickle and subtle rather than generous and grandiose. But right now my own mind ensnares me in fears and insecurities. I doubt myself, in particular my judgment as a leader. We’ve only days before the siege occurs, a few meager days. My morals conflict with my sense of strategy, my ethics with my combat sensibility. Everyone always says the lesser of two evils is the clear choice, sacrifice the few to save the many, I’ve heard that sermon preached endlessly by even the common folk. The obvious decision is for the main force to fall back over the hillsides, splinter the specialists into the woods our adversaries march through in a futile attempt to ambush us, allow them to march in and raid the small farm town and surround them in an ambush of our own.

… But I know the end of that tale. Most if not all of the citizen’s lives are forfeit. Who am I to deem who amongst our people’s lives hold more merit than the other? Even if I could detach emotionally, Adanine is a pivotal trade post and a core supplier of the kingdom’s agriculture. If I allow it to fall… even if we win the battle, nay the war itself our people would suffer economically and potentially endure a famine. So that’s my quandary, do I kill few now to save many only to suffer later, or do I convince my soldiers to make a suicide stand and risk all our lives anyways?

“-Right?”

“Er, uh, pardon. My mind’s amiss, milady…”

“Milady? Hah! I like you already, sugar! I was just askin’ you for your pint’s flavor. What’ll it be, cutie?”

“Ah, no liquor for me. I need my senses about me.”

“Really? ‘Cause no offense but you look more like you need your thoughts drowned in something strong.”

“Perhaps later… Just some water for now, if you please. And I’d be grateful for something cooked thoroughly.”

“Suit yourself, hun. You’ll have the meal before we take off, and I’ll bring you your water regularly. If you have to call the name’s Jenna.”

“I appreciate you, Jenna…”

She flashed me a bright smile and a nod as she sauntered her way over to another table to take their order. Normally I’d have my heart warmed for such a simple, pleasant exchange. Joy seems so unattainable for me right now though. All that smile did was remind me of how many people in Adanine just like Jenna I’ll put up to the chopping block if I’m to do the smart thing… And compassion may be the good thing but it’s a fool’s tool in my position. But damn it all what of the RIGHT thing?!  Just another bitter reminder that I’ve set aside my pride to seek the counsel of some stranger just because others claim his word’s better than a king’s ransom of treasure. Just how deplorable have I become…? Could you forgive me, father? Mother? I’ll have to ask no matter what I choose, I’m sure… 

The meal was delicious, probably one of the best I’ve ever had. I couldn’t describe the flavor if my life were on the line. Jenna tried to console me, to keep me company, and for that I am grateful. I can’t remember a word of our conversations, yet we spoke for hours. The skies were clear and all sailing was smooth. Just a cruel reminder that the calm before the storm was literally before me and it was my responsibility to dispel the inbound disaster. When eventually I retired to my room and laid my head to rest I’d never felt a bed so comfortable. I’ve never slept worse in my life so far as I can remember, if you could even call it sleep. Eventually the bell tolled and I jolted upright, my hand on my blade’s hilt and my skin clammy and cold. We were docked, my door knocked, and Jenna peeked in when I answered.

“You’re set to leave now, sugar. I can tell your nerves are still at you, and I can’t even imagine what it is, given that medal on your coat. But for what it’s worth? I believe in you, and I think you’re doing right by yourself to seek some counsel. Better than most of the pricks you’re putting your life on the line to protect, if you ask me.”

Her hesitant smile was clearly an attempt at humor, so I returned a hollow grin back at her and thanked her before I gathered my belongings and went on my way. And… of course we’re on a mountain. What is it with all these pretentious charlatans and reclusiveness to the point where it’s embarrassing? Might as well dig a bunker and cover it back up with dirt. Much less effort than the climb. … Am I really reverted to such childish and petty thoughts? Do I fear so much my own inadequacy that I make simple, neanderthal retorts not even to someone undeserving of my ire, but only within my own mind? I set upon the stony path, carefully marked by intermittent tattered cloths of various color before I had any more time to discover any other character flaws…

At least the climb only took half an hour, maybe a little longer before I stood at the entrance. Dwarven craftsmanship, unmistakable and unmatched in quality of the masonry. But… Even I had to admit it was breathtaking… Resplendent colors, vibrant such that I couldn’t find a place to rest my gaze. It was like a mosaic of stained glass in a cathedral; except if it were upon a great door worked into the mouth of a mountain cave. Yet… I couldn’t decipher the image. It was clearly meant to take a shape, present a story or a tale or some other proverb but… It was senseless to me. I prayed to whatever gods deemed to listen that this wasn’t foreshadowing… One final breath to muster up what mettle I still had before I shoved the surprisingly light door ajar and ventured into the darkness.

On the topic of darkness… this place was devoid of light, save what the sun trickled in from behind. Why was it so poorly illuminated? Fortunately I always carried a spare lantern. A moment to spark the light and I began a careful venture down the narrow passage. Why was it so lengthy… and so quiet… My hand instinctively rested on the pommel of my blade as I tried to distinguish anything of note, anything to determine if I’ve somehow been tricked, am somehow being tested… 

…

…

…

It’s been over an hour and I feel as if I’m getting nowhere! Surely this is a hoax? Some sort of sick practical joke for this guy’s amusement!? I’ve clearly wasted my time, I have to backtrack. I’ve missed something. I begin to double time it back to the entrance, I figure either way I’ll be able to try again or to-

-To leave…? This isn’t possible, I’ve been walking for hours. I KNOW it’s been hours, I’m a member of the militia for gods’ sakes, I KNOW what a forced march is! So how did- when did- where did- why is the door in front of me, as though I’ve just been walking in place for hours?! I’m just… just so flabbergasted. What sorcery is this? Some manner of conjuration of portals, imperceptible to the human eye that merely forced me into a cruel, eternal loop? I moved back out to the door. It’s so elaborately designed, I clearly didn’t see something. There’s a hint somewhere in the colors, the patterns, the masonry. Some kind of map, some kind of clue, some manner of indication of what I need to do. Because now that I’m here, there’s zero chance that I’m going to just leave with nothing to my name! I came for answers and I WILL have them!

… It’s been an hour. Or, maybe it feels like it has. I don’t know, all I know is I can’t see anything here. I even checked the edges and the interior side to see if the rest is a distractor from the real answer. And a big fat heap of nothing. I’m out of ideas, I’m out of plans- but I NEED to see this sage! I must at least hear out his nonsense before I just up and abandon this quest! I look into the bleak, inky expanse and glance back at my lantern. I’ll just scan more diligently, and pay closer attention. Look up, look left, look right, look down, look wherever I have to in order to find my answers. And so… That didn’t work. I feel I made even less progress than when I just walked forward. And if I turned about and looked- Yep. That’s the light of the cave. Is the magic chronomancy? Have I slowed down the entire time I’ve walked the path and not been able to register it? I looked at my lantern and felt my anger swell to a fever point. I chucked it against a boulder near the entrance and stormed off deeper in. If there was nothing to see, why carry a light anyways?

… Lo and behold within just a minute I found myself suddenly enveloped in prismatic light that nearly blinded me. I instinctively brought my arm up to cover my eyes and unsheathed my blade with a ring of metal- but no assailant was there. It was gorgeous, a single mass of diamond jutted from the roof of the room and produced a panorama of color to illuminate the space. The walls were lined with art on the cave walls, not cave wall art but parchments of all size and shape adhered to the walls. Each of them presented a scene, carefully drawn in a somewhat abstract manner but clear enough that one had a sense of what happened. There was so much to absorb, so much to take in that I couldn’t pay attention to them all. 

But as I looked about they all began to shift, as if when my angle changed or my eye drifted elsewhere suddenly the picture shifted to play out like a scene on a stage. One stood out to me in particular, a scene of a man who yearned for a woman, but was hesitant to tell her how he felt. If I moved one direction he confessed his love and they embraced, yet if I chose another path he fell into melancholy as he watched another man break her heart, and even still another angle showed a rejection, but one that led to a new woman whom they both found a requited love. I was so entranced by the pastel ocean of color and the scene itself I whipped my sword about in the direction of the voice.

“I see you like my art. Would you like me to paint you a picture?”

A man who clearly had years on him, but years that were kind to him had stepped into view from a passage across the room. He had short, very crudely cut platinum blond hair, a warm smile that revealed a missing canine and some particularly prominent ears with gem studs embedded in them. His clothes were mismatched and completely stained with all manner of dyes and powders. He leaned heavily on a tangled, thick staff that served as a walking stick. But more notably he had a worn and frayed cloth over his eyes that betrayed his condition. I didn’t say anything for a few moments as I looked him over, thoroughly… disappointed. Before I could say anything he responded as though he read my thoughts.

“Not what you expected?”

“... Are you ‘He Whose Gaze Pierces Fate?’”

The man scoffed and laughed at the same time as he hobbled over to a table nearby him and settled into the seat. I lowered my blade as the man began to gather up miscellaneous jars, bowls, and brushes from around him. He set them all out as though he knew precisely where everything was, and began to prepare his utensils.

“It never gets old, hearing all the ridiculous names and titles people give to me. My name’s just Ron.”

“... So you are the one I seek?”

“I suppose so, nobody else here aside from us as far as I know!”

“You’re… a blind seer?”

“I’m no seer, just an artist. Everyone else does the looking for me though! Ha!”

“Right. Look, I don’t mean to insult you Ron, but this is not only extremely important but also urgent.”

“What isn’t nowadays? But I still have a good set of ears to listen, so go ahead and tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I’m a commander for the militia. I’ve found myself in what appears to be a losing situation, no matter what plan I try to concoct I see too great of a cost to my kingdom and its people to settle on one. I came to seek your wisdom on what I should do.”

“Goodness, that is quite the pickle you got there. Well, I can’t say that I can help you with that. Never been on the battlefield a day in my life.”

I was floored. He just… he dismissed it so casually. Acted like my plights were trivial, inconsequential. He just kept on with his picture, as though all was right in the world. I bit my tongue and tasted blood, but I managed to stay my clenched fist around my blade, and miraculously managed to sheathe it.

“I don’t think you understand the brevity of the situation, Ron-”

“You’re right, I can’t fathom what you’re feeling right now. And I certainly don’t envy your choice.”

“... You know what? You’re right. There’s no way you could understand with that tone of voice, and that nonchalant attitude!”

“Don’t tell me what I already know, you’re wasting your breath.”

“EXCUSE ME?”

“Just advice I can offer you, kid. Now come over here.”

Oh, come over there I did. I stormed right over and made certain to flip a smaller table with some of his belongings on it as I went. As I arrived I was about to shout something, but his piece caught my eye. It was… It was a picture of Adanine. Roughly drawn, but there was no mistaking it. It was even at the same exact angle I had gazed out over it as I pondered what I should do…

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t trash the place, kind of hard for a blind man to clean up.”

My fury screamed at me to argue. To strike, to have a downright tantrum. But… But something about the way he painted, how confidently, how smoothly, and how eerily accurately entranced me. I felt the tension ease from my body as I silently observed his handiwork. It took him no more than a few minutes to finish the scene, just a still, peaceful, safe Adanine landscape. As he did he picked it up and handed it to me, and I began to tilt it, my head, move it away and pull it closer. And yet the image wouldn’t shift as all the others did. I furrowed my brow and looked at Ron.

“It’s not changing…?”

“Of course it isn’t, it’s a picture.”

“But why do all the others change when they move?”

“Because you’re in motion.”

“Huh?”

“They move because you are moving. Now, is this picture not what you came to ask for?”

“No! I came to ask for an answer on how to save Adanine and my soldiers!”

“Why did you come and ask me for this?”

“Because you’re this world renowned and respected seer who’s hyped up for all his infinite wisdom, but it turns out you’re just a crazy blind recluse in a cave who draws pictures that move!”

I threw the paper to the ground and he clicked his tongue and somehow turned his head towards me in such a way that our eyes would have met.

“Art asks not what is, but what could be. It then seizes it, and makes it a reality.”

“So how do I do that?!”

He then smiled warmly, and let out a soft laugh as he shook his head.

“Why do you doubt yourself?”

“Huh?”

“Child, why do you doubt yourself?”

“Because I need to KNOW what my answer is!”

“No, you don’t. You need to believe in yourself.”

“Okay, fine. And how do I do that?”

“You already have done that. You’ve done it countless times.”

“How? How have I done it? I don’t understand!”

Ron bent over and picked up the picture, carefully placed it into my hands, and smiled wide as he simply stated.

“Faith is moving without knowing.”