A Dream, A Fantasy, A Quest.....

Oh my, what a tangled story we do weave.
Full of deception, then only to deceive.
I checked my heart, before entering in,
This dreadful place with unlimited sin.
A cast of thousands inhabit the brain,
For I do not wish to remain here insane.
As I sit and think of the glorious day,
When all out there, the peasants they do slay.

I ventured out this cold morning. The rain had just stopped its thundering activity, and the streets had that magical glow. Fresh and clean they were now. Gone were the remains of the days passed. Gone were all the dirty treading of tiresome feet.

Washed away to start anew.

I continued past all the regular and familiar shops till I reached something that was new, yet had that sense of familiarity. A unique little place that had only two tiny windows on the front of the shop. I reached for the door handle and turned it slowly. It wouldn’t budge.

“Locked”, I muttered to myself.

“Not locked young man”, a voice spoke behind me. “Just closed to the cautious”

I turned around quickly, only to find myself staring down into the face of a rather old man. His wrinkly skin cracked as he smiled, and his eyes danced with the seamless energy of a very young soul that was somehow caught in this old body.

“If you are scared, it won’t let you in” he continued.

Sensing a little ego pushing forward, I retorted back,
“I am not scared, I have nothing to be scared of.”


“The door won’t let you in unless it is convinced of this. You can say a lie, but your soul will not be able to hide that lie. For your soul tells the door the real truth.”

Realizing I was not going to win this one I conceded defeat of my ego.
“But how can I enter ? I asked of him.

“Through a clear mind and pure heart, then you will pass.”

“But I have those.”

“Then think only of them”, he spoke and pointed at the door.
“Try the handle and keep your mind.”

I looked at the door handle and then back at him. But he had vanished. Quickly scanning the streets in both directions I found no trace of him.
“That was weird,” I said to myself.

Turning back to the door I reached for the handle. Closing my eyes, I thought only of pure images. It must of worked, for I heard a click and the door swung inward.

Peering in, I could only make out darkness. Light did not seem to penetrate past the doorway. With much hesitation, I ventured over the threshold. I was a couple feet into the store, surrounded by darkness when the door slowly closed shut behind me. I spun around to grab it but was overcome with the sense of complete emptiness. I could not even make out my hand if it was place right in front of my nose. Fear was not an option at this point. I think I was too scared to be scared.

Then a complete feeling of enlightenment swept over my entire body. It was at this moment a bright light appeared in front of me. Well maybe not in front, but it actually surrounded me, engulfing me in a bright white light. A loud noise was heard, like the passing of an incredibly large jet airliner directly over head. I grasped my ears to block out the sound and shut my eyes tight as to shield them from the bright light.

Then all was calm. I wasn’t there anymore. I wasn’t anywhere. This indescribable feeling of nothing was overwhelming. The best possible description would be that my whole body felt like it was asleep and had just woken up. A lit tingle surged from my toes to the tips of my hairs on my head.

As I opened my eyes I was once again in darkness. Yet I could now detect a faint glow of light in the distance. Slowly the light surrounded me and I realized I was on the crest of a small hill at the edge of a quaint little meadow. The sun was rising in the sky but had barely crested over the distant mountains. It was still early in the morning. The dew still clung to the grass and the leaves of the trees. It shimmered off the wet surfaces, bouncing the light in a mystical sort of way. I looked out from that hill top, to view the valley below. A picturesque setting it was. A vision that was usually captured in a classic painting.

In the distance a small lake was feeding a little creek. The creek weaves its way through the tall grass, sprinkled with wild flowers. A light haze gently moved across the lake and its shores. The sun slowly warming it up. On the other side of the lake stood a little cottage house. From its chimney, smoke rose in small swirling patterns, then only to vanish into the morning sky. As I made my way down the hill towards the lake an odd noise startled me from the direction of the sun. The silhouette of a large bird hung motionless in the sky against the slowly rising sun. It then moved its great large wings and turned to head down to the lake. Gracefully it descended towards the lake. Not a sound could be heard from this great big bird. Then with a quick almost seamless approach, it landed on the lake with hardly a ripple of the water.

It was a strange looking bird, one that I have not seen before. Very large wings and a equally large body. But strangely it had a tiny head and beak. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that it did not have feathers but fur on its body. Shaking my head I said to myself, “No, I am not in Kansas any more.”

With the power of a new days sun, I ventured forth towards this magnificent site. The once still water of the lake, rippled with the subtle movements from the large bird. Its grace was not only for the sky, but it moved with the grace of a swan and the sweetness of a dove. I ventured around the lake, not wanting to bring attention to myself. An unexpected meeting with such a large creature would not be advisable at this point I thought to myself. The comfort and shelter of the little hut seemed like a good idea at this point, so I made my way towards it.

It looked like a simple little hut, obviously a one room place. I tried to look into the hut through its small window, but a thin curtain blocked my view. I was about to venture towards the door when the curtain slide to the side and a voice pierced the morning air.

“Ah, Good Morning my little friend.”

A small woman said. Her white hair flowed off her shoulders, and her eyes danced as she smiled when she crinkled her face.

“You’re not from around here are you ?” and tilted her head slightly.

“No I’m not from around here. You could say I am a little out of my neighborhood.”

“Then come in stranger,” she gestured. “Warm your belly and rest your bones”

I nodded and went to the hut’s door. As I reached out to grab the door handle, I noticed it to be quite familiar. Too late, I thought. I remembered where I had seen that handle before. It was the same as the store on the street. When I opened the door, I was again bathed in a bright light. I shut my eyes from the glare and I felt dizzy and confused.

When I awoke I was again not where I thought I should have been. I felt strange, like a completely different person. Now I was in a new place. A special place ? My own thoughts seemed to betray me.

I should learn to watch out for strange door handles. Just then an elderly man came into the room.

“You had a nasty fall young knight ?” he quizzed me. “Not where you thought you should be eh ?”

I thought of the old woman and wondered where she had gone. The old man turned to me,

“ She’s not here is she ? Not to worry, my wife has gone to fetch the morning meal.”

I tried to get up and rest on my elbows, but the old man motioned for me to stay down.
“Don’t get up sir, your strength is down. Rest is needed.”

“But strangely, I don’t feel weak.”

I tested my strength by ignoring the old man. I tried to get up again but it was true I had lost my strength. I felt dizzy and weak, so I lay down again.

“Now do you believe me young knight ?” the old man said grinning.

“Why do you keep calling me young knight ? I questioned.

“For you are” he replied back.

A puzzled look swept over my face.

“For you are a knight of many tales and adventures. I know of your grand adventures and heroics. We all do.”

It was at this point that I noticed that the old man and I were not alone in the room. Sitting off in the corner, in the midst of the shadows were three tiny bodies. The old man motioned them to come forward.

“Come, come, come closer my children.”

Waving his arms towards the three people, gesturing them to approach.

“These are my grandchildren Sir knight, from my eldest son. The youngest one is Coron, then next is Flavian, and the oldest is my little princess, Daniala.”

The children all stood now in the dim light of the fireplace. Two boys and a girl. None of them looked over ten years of age. The old man finally went over to them and in a simple way herded them towards where I lay.

“Sit here children, the young knight would love your company”

They came over slowly and sat near the end of the cot. I smiled at them in hopes that they would not feel threatened. I got the sense that they were becoming calmer because I thought I caught little Flavian with a slight smile.

“Now children, do you wish to hear the story of our young knight here ?” the old man asked.

I turned my head towards him in complete curiosity. A tale about me could be rather revealing at this point, something I should most like to hear about.

“I sure would love to hear how you tell the tale of my adventures.”
The old man smiled. Coron then quickly stated,
“I would love to hear it grandpa.”
“Yes please”, continued Daniala.

“So as soon as we are all nice and comfortable, I’ll begin.” the old man said.

The children quickly grabbed a small blanket at the end of the cot and snuggled up together. Heck even I got comfortable.

“Well then I will tell you of his journeys,” he started.

This should be good I thought. Actually I sure hoped my journeys were good. It would be a shame if I found out that I was boring.

A small smile crept across his face and a glow appeared in his eyes. With a magical tone in his voice he began his story, my story, my adventures. He spoke as if he had lived it, been there. I felt like I was listening to my life, as though he had been the one living it.

“This is the story of our young knight Tritio, before he was a knight, before he was the man he is today. From where he came and what he did”

He turned to the three children and examined their stares. I guess he found them to be interested enough so he continued into the story.

“The sun had crested above the rolling hills. The dew was glistening off the tall grass that swayed in the almost non existent breeze. Slowly the sun warmed the valley. Steam rose from all around, the day was beginning. Low mist was seen hovering around the tallest points of the valley. The tops seemed so far away, yet somehow did not feel imposing at all. Two mountain tops on either side of the valley stood out. Their imposing presence showered over the valley, they were always thought as the guardians of the valley.

Orge and Ore, simple names from simple people. The myths had grown from generation to generation. Some had said the mountains used to be two brothers that had fought over their farm land and upset the gods, and as their punishment, now had to stand watching over their land with neither getting more than the other.

Further myths had the legends of the peaks as the remains of a great battle left behind from when the gods walked the land. Some go as far to say that the peaks were two young lovers from different families that were made to spend eternity standing across from each other in response to their fathers disapproval of their love. Many more myths circulate, but none are really more valid than the next. Most of the time the stories were told to children by their parents in order to keep then under control or to teach them of proper moral values. But like all stories, they at one time or another, become worn out and replaced by something new. As times changed so did the values people placed on the stories. Now the stories only resembled simple tales of generations past.

But one man knew the real story. One man knew the truth. They say he had seen the dream, the magical dream. Some say he had a grand vision. It was to be a great adventure, one could say a quest, a quest of the dream.

... to be continued