“Indeed.” Sitting back up, she swirled to face me. “Think about it my young ra’th friend. Knowledge has no value without the choice to make use of it. Will has no purpose without a choice for a devotion to a cause.”
Lynn grinned right at me and the sun, itself almost now gone beyond the horizon instead shrine most bright upon me, again returning to the glory of a pure day.
“Why, that is simply the most powerful choice of all.”
“I think you’re weird,” I said, being truthful yet some part of me, I would think perhaps the first hints of adult awareness, also felt I was too harsh.
“Why, thank you!” She gave me a most mischievous grin. “But now, my dear Meztli, you should pay attention to this part. What is the real question I am asking you?”
This time I was the silent one as I rolled the words she had spoken to me over and over in my head. Oddly enough this whole experience, as surreal as it had been, left me feeling light yet focused.
“Is it…is it that…” I stopped again as I tried to really order my thoughts and prove that I was worthy of her time and something more that I couldn’t name then. …
“There are many wise men in this world.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted. “But okay.”
“Well, there are.” Lynn rolled her eyes. “Not that all of them are really wise. But lets not get off on a tangent. I’m bad about that I should have you know so I try not to. Fail all the time, but never the less I do try to make the effort.”
“I think you might be doing that right now.”
“Right. So, I was saying wise men. Most of them agree that there is one thing in this world that is the most powerful thing.” Eye brow raised she gave me a questioning look. …
“There is never any need to be sorry for being who you are.” She reached down, puckling a straw of wheat from the ground an placed it between her lips, chewing on it.
“No buts.” She reached out and ruffled my hair. “I know what your mom has taught you. And she wasn’t wrong to do so. It’s kept you safe and alive for a long time now.”
I should have been annoyed at her messing up my hair but I welcomed the touch of hands, giving me a little shock of comfort. It would be many years before I looked back and understood fully that this was an effect Lynn had on people — that she had had on both my mother and myself. She would manage to put but people at ease just by speaking, making them feel like the universe had fallen away with the exception of Lynn. …
Tossing aside any remaining vestiges of hesitation, I took her hand in my own, consciously trying to match the strength of her larger and stronger hands. I couldn’t but I tried anyway, wanting to meet this strange woman on the same equal ground she had offered me.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lynn.”
Still a child, I wavered ever so slightly.
“I’m not like you.”
“I’m just a marban.”
“Are you now?”
I nodded, softly trying to not let it show and still failing. I was unclean and had shook her hand. …
Lynn rose to a bending of her back, stretching out. She let out a light sigh as she then placed her hands on her waist, her shoulders slumping a bit in a motion of pure relaxation.
“I’m not sure what to make of you,” my mother stated as she reached down to arrange the last bundles of wheat that we would be taking in for the evening.
“Why I am not surprised by this.”
Lynn titled her head to the side as if in answer.
“All these years and I told myself if anyone was to know…then I…
The woman, Lynn, bowed with a slight flourish, seemly marking her even more out of place among the pauper fields.
“Then, it seems, I am done quite an honor to meet a woman of your lineage.” She held the bow for long moments, and the silence dragged on becoming a thing of it’s own dying breath.
I thought perhaps my mother would take offense with such mockery.
Anzil bared her teeth and ever so slightly her claws gleamed in the light. By first accounts she appeared to be enraged but her words instead stilled me.
“Who are you woman to speak such poisonous words?” …
She was the first human who I had ever seen.
And I don’t think I would be too ashamed to admit that as I was then, a small child of some eight years, that I didn’t know quite what to make of her.
She emerged from the distance, on the old worn dirt path, surrounded on both sides by the rolling fields of wheat. The winds blew across the horizon, and the stalks almost seem to dance in their places, thrilled to have been graced by her presence. …
My medium of choice most of the time is the graphic novel format and I’ve always got several that are in different stages of works. I love what that medium does for me in the combination of words and art.
It is a comfortable blanket for me that I can fall into without much thought. That’s a good thing in case you were thinking I was about to say otherwise.
However, yes there must be one of those if I am going to have a con-joining thought here, it doesn’t force me to grow quite as much as it once did. Oh I still have much growing to do. …