By the time we'd wound our way down and around the precipice and made our way back to the Temple of the Gate,
Serghan had worked himself into quite a huff, muttering vigorously, unintelligibly in all manner of unpleasantness. All I could pick up of the diatribe was that he was extremely unhappy that the
Time Warrens had been brought directly to the Gate. As we entered the clearing he marched decisively right up to
Syha and barked, "What is going on here?"
Syha waited, sitting patiently, cross-legged on the ground in the clearing, lost in thought. Having lived with Syha for most of my adult life, I know not to mistake her shy, soft-spoken nature for a timid one. So slowly did she raise her head to Serghan that he almost repeated himself before her eyes fell on him. He stopped. Abruptly. There was much exchanged in that long glance. Finally, in a very different tone, he asked again, "what is going on?".
"The beautiful, continuous flow of Time," Syha responded.
Silence fell over the compound...a calm silence. It's not an easy thing to do, to hold yourself out there with such firm confidence that everyone around you is affected by your presence. Sometimes you can convey more in the spaces between words than by the words themselves. I followed Serghan into the compound, sat myself quietly down beside my friend Syha, rubbing her lightly on the shoulder as I settled in, waiting for the words that would accompany this strong energy-of-self she was projecting. It was a side of her I'd only glimpsed until now and it was more than a little impressive.
Tindar, bless his tact deficient soul, is slightly more impatient than respectful.
"Well?" A single word which, when spoken by Tindar, was enough to make me acutely aware of the birdsong of the forest...not piercing the silence so much as revealing the trick behind its effect. Tindar is the only human I know who can be deeply sincere, (he truly possesses one of the world's kindest hearts) and yet every syllable he utters has a slight note of sarcasm woven into his affable lilt. It's disconcerting, even unbalancing, still after all of these years.
Syha smiled at Tindar, appreciating him in all of his quirky glory. "Well, we have some catching up to do."
"Indeed," Tindar smiled back.
While all of this was happening, Ezrial and the Lyrii had remained outside of the circle of the compound in silence. Now all eyes turned to them. The courage Syha had instilled in the crowd wavered slightly.
"Perhaps I should begin by introducing some new friends," she continued. "Some of you already know Ezrial, who is both human and Lyrii. Our cloudy friend behind him, well I have no name for him but Lyrii." She looked quizzically toward Ezrial.
"It is probably the most accurate appellation you could choose, in fact," Ezrial responded.
Syha nodded respectfully.
"What is the Vastness of Time and Space coming to? Exchanging pleasantries with a Lyrii like this was a tea party." Serghan scoffed.
"When we danced in Reston, Serghan, you were as open as the night sky of a thousand worlds. How could that same man now stand before us, so closed?" Syha asked.
The words hit their mark. However, Serghan was slightly more afraid than proud.
"Syha, you don't know, can't know the history of your own future," he objected. "The unscrupulous harm they've threatened to get their own way..."
"Parallels our own, I'm sad to hear," Syha finished sternly.
"Now look, we are a race of explorers. Knowing we can travel through time, would you have us forgo that because it doesn't fit their vision of the Universe? It's not reasonable."
Ezrial spoke up, "We've explained...you communicate orally, using sound. What if we were to pollute the realm in which you communicate with such noise you could no longer do so?"
"It's a gambit to control us, nothing more," Serghan dismissed the explanation.
"It seems, Syha, you have become an arbiter in quite an impasse," Tindar raised his eyebrow, a sign of an underlying, unasked question.
"Can you see no other way to view this problem, Serghan of the Vast Night Sky?" Syha asked earnestly.
"Not as long as they get to decide what this Great Story of theirs must become." Serghan objected.
"Ah, exactly so." Syha smiled catching Serghan completely off guard. He sputtered a few disjointed vowel sounds to indicate his confusion.
"It is not 'their' Great Story, of course. It is THE Great Story," Syha went on explaining.
"But we do not fit into their view of it," Serghan objected more meekly than before.
"And have Wanderers of the thirtieth generation abandoned change as a cornerstone of our culture, our most defining trait as a people? Why would we be stoic and unchanging in this and nothing else?"
"I don't understand," Serghan shrugged.
"How wonderful!" Syha sang out. Tindar chuckled at this. It is an old joke in our clan that admitting we don't understand is the first step to learning.
"Ezrial, the Lyrii and I have come to you tonight to tell you a new story...a Great New Story. And we have gone back to rebuild the Fourth Gate as an act of good faith, and as a grand beginning to this tale."
"You are brave," Serghan said, sounding dubious about the whole affair.
"No Serghan, I am slightly more stubborn than brave," she laughed.
"Truth," Tindar chuckled again. "Well, let us hear this great new story!"
"Once upon a ripple in Time....," Syha began as we all gathered closer to listen. I, for one, could not wait to hear it.
To be continued...
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The Wheels Clan Chronicles
series ©2006-2007 by Jeff Beardwood.
