EarthDancer

The children gathered around the elder in the old man's room in the modest castle. Their faces shone with curiosity in the firelight from the hearth, the warmth and comfort of the room creating the perfect atmosphere for the tales they had come to love from their grandfather. The eldest child entered the room last, closing the door behind her to keep out even the bravest of the winter chill left in the corridor. Seating herself and placing one of the younger children into her lap, she blew out the last candle and looked expectantly at the gnarled man seated facing them.

The flickering firelight threw playful shadows across the face of the man as he sat in the old oaken chair, making him seem somehow younger. It could have been, simply, that the man enjoyed these times as much as the children did. Telling the tales of his youth and reliving his adventures in the world made him feel younger. Seeing the wonder and curiosity in his grandchildren's faces as he spun his tales was reward enough for him. The children watched now in such a manner, impatient for the journeys he brought them on.

"Come now, Grandfather!"

"What will you tell us tonight?"

"Yes! More of Lleryn the Bard?"

"Oh, I like his stories!"

"Hush, Vanya, He's going to begin!"

"Shh! Okay, Grandfather , we're ready," the eldest, Nessa, said quietly.

"I'm sorry, Jorynn," he began,"but Lleryn will have to wait for another night. Tonight I will tell you the tale of a memory I have from far back, when I was little older than Nessa. At the time I was living in Rothanport."

"All that way?" asked the one of the younger children," That's almost the end of the world!"

"It may well be, Mena," the man replied, "And the coast is a long way. But to continue, I was a boy in the town of Rothanport. My parent's house was in a section of the city near the docks, with a wonderful view of the sea. Many an afternoon would find me on our roof, watching the sun lower into the ocean. The ever-changing beauty of the sea was at it's best then, and it drew me as a torch draws a moth.

"The past year I was apprenticed to the local alchemist, a somewhat sour man by the name of Telgarth. Our house was along one of the main streets leading up from the shore to the Bondsman's Manorhouse, and I had a good distance to walk uphill to the shop. There I had minor jobs, mostly cleaning and running errands, but I was taking lessons and reading in my spare time. Telgarth had a respectable library, even a few books that the University library didn't have and probably didn't know about. This was what I loved most, the knowledge of all of nature's chemicals and the healing, poisoning, and other properties made by mixing them in the right manner. One book in particular caught my interest. It was about an ancient people who had once lived in the mountains to the north and worshipped gods of Nature.

"It told of their priests and people, of their vast knowledge of the Earth. It spoke also of certain special individuals among them. These people were holy, set apart from the masses by their talents. They were called EarthDancers, and they possessed the ability to channel Nature's power and beauty through themselves and into their audience by the motions of their dances. Those watching found themselves healed, comforted, and attuned to the life of the land around them.

"They were a peaceful people, and were either killed or put to flight when the Correllendors settled in the area. Little was heard of them thereafter, and some say they are dead. But, the book said, some stories say living Dancers still exist. 'maybe,' it seemed to whisper to me, 'Dancers still live in secret.' This idea set my curiosity afire, and though I doubted I'd ever see one, I hoped, I felt sure that dancers still existed.

"My parents wanted me to be educated, but like so many others in the city, it was far above our means, and I didn't have enough talent to join the Bard's Collegium. So I wandered I'd been studying under Telgarth for nearly a year and was almost ready to apply to the guild as a journeyman, or, more likely, go off to find work elsewhere.

"I had decided to tell Telgarth of my imminent departure, asking a week for final studies and farewells. As this was the first of the week, I would tell him and stay for the remainder of the week. Stepping into the sunny morning, however, I felt a good bit uneasy. I had come to enjoy Telgarth's lessons, even to the point of considering making alchemy my final pursuit, and we were on good terms. So I attributed it to nerves. But, as I see it now, it was more of a sense of foreboding."

"The old man sat back in the large chair, pausing for some breath and letting the children get more comfortable. The younger ones were beginning to show signs of tiredness despite thir interest. Well, he thought, much the better, for a good tale they'll have another time when they wish to hear the rest. But he decided not to spin the tale too long, or he'd lose the older children as well. And so he continued, once the children had settled.

"So I wandered through the bright summer morning up the comfortable streets of Rothanport and my nerves settled some. All up the cobblestone street the life of the life of the city was awake and busy peddling the early morning's catch. All along the people walked, talked, and haggled their wares. The still-damp streets sparkled after a night shower. The fresh breeze from the sea mingled with the city smells creating a tapestry of scent. Nearly floating through the streets, I basked in the beauty of the day as I slowly climbed the gentle slope to the marketplace.

"The main square was to the city streets what the ocean waves are to the ripples of a brook. People everywhere took advantage of the cool morning to trade and sell everything from pots and pans to weaponry. I walked through the square, taking the time I had given myself when I woke early for just this purpose.

"As I neared an edge of the square after a rather roundabout route, my eye was caught and held by an arms peddler's cart. His small wagon was bedecked with every sort of blade imaginable. But one thing that interested me in particular was a short sword. A bit large for me, I had some difficulty getting it down, and then I removed it from its wood scabbard. The shining, sharpened blade that gleamed at me stirred sleeping ideas within me. Even the scabbard was beautiful, with a carved picture around it divided into four parts. Clouds on one piece floated, raining, above steep mountains. The water soon became a river which flowed down into a forest, miniature trees little more than lines thinly etched into wood that somehow still gave a feeling of life. From there the river flowed into a sea. The carving transfixed me for no small amount of time, a fact the peddler noticed.

 

"If ye be thinkin' 'bout that one, lad, the coin's a bit steep for one of your age. Not too mention it's a bit too big," he smiled.

"All I managed to do was mumble an acknowledgement as I recovered from the awe-struck trance. I put my hands on the grip and made a fake swing. The sword was too long for me, and the balance difficult for one not trained in its use, but as I slid it back into the scabbard, I knew that my future lay with that blade.

"I stood in the light and wondered how a boy like myself could ever hope to make his fortune with such as this. I returned the blade to its place on the peddler's wagon with a certain reverence. I vowed then that I would return for the sword when I had found a purpose for us and the means to purchase it. The mark on the wagon showed it belonged to Rothanport's best weaponsmith, and so I knew I could find it there in the future.

"I sighed, and taking a last glance at the cart, continued on my way. Threading through the crowd near the edge of the marketplace, I heard what could only be called... music."

The children, now excited, could contain themselves no longer. "Music, Grandfather?"

"From the sword? How amazing!"

"An enchanted sword! Shh! Let him go on."

The man interrupted the chorus of wonder, "Children," Silence. "If you keep interrupting, I cannot finish my tale. Would you please keep this quiet, so that I may finish this in one speech? It's much better that way."

Several sheepish faces nodded silently, and the man resumed his tale, "Well, Thalia, the music came not from the sword, but from my right, in the southern streets of Rothanport. The most remarkable thing, however, is that not one of the people around me seemed able to hear the music. It seemed muffled, but still I heard a high, lilting melody like one played by a flute over a deep hum. I found myself compelled, though not against my will, to follow the enchanting tune to its source.

"As I walked through the smaller streets of the city, my way narrowed and several times I rounded a corner expecting to find a wall ending my search. But always there was one more street, another alley, until I finally came upon the courtyard.

"It was a simple clearing in the stone and wood of the city where several alleys met. In the center, a fountain stood highlighted by the sun rays that reached over the buildings. The music seemed to come from the second floor of a building directly ahead of me, from a room behind a balcony. Still no one on my search had been able to hear the music, and the courtyard was in fact empty but for one small, dark-haired girl. She was a child-of-the-street, one of those who would smile for you and then rob you blind of what you hadn't given already. But she heard the music, for she too was staring up at the same balcony I was, her sharp features silhouetted against the white houses behind her. She reminded me of a bird, with sharp face and ragged, straight black hair. I knew not what, but something about her caught me. At first I thought it pity, but then it seemed it was the contradiction she embodied. She heard the music, while so many people outwardly more respectable than herself could not. We are not all true to first appearances, children.

"The subject of my search then showed herself in an entrance worthy of the themes playing in my mind. The music grew slowly louder until it filled my ears and then my mind. As it grew so loud that I wondered that the nearby buildings did not shake, a woman of sable hair and dark brown eyes opened the door to the balcony and stepped out. The sun's rays seemed to fall off her like water from a duck The light morning breeze, so wild and untamable, caught in her hair and blew it about in a pattern as complex as the leaves of a tree in the wind. As she danced to the music, she followed the melodies in the parts of beasts, plants, and yet more elusive shapes. She was absorbed by the music as the girl and I were, but she seemed a part of it. She did not see us, unaware of anything but the beauty of the day and and the music I realised was focused through her. The music was around her, in her, and by her graceful moves, she was the music. It was the music of Life, of the Earth, It was in everything, it told me, it was everything. The grass, the trees, the birds, the sky, even the city folk. By her talent, she caught the music and made it physical, and so it was given to the minds of those who watched her.

EarthDancer, I thought.

"Soon I found myself unable to resist the the music as it washed over me. I danced in my own way, led by the figure on the balcony portraying the creatures of the earth. I saw her, too, as she truly was. The music quieted, muted, and she was a weeping willow, her arms drooped and her head down. Then the music flew to a high trill, and the she was the wind incarnate. I glanced around and saw a small group had now gathered in the courtyard, all moving with the music. For what could have been hours, or seconds, we danced there, the music of Life in us and about us.

"Finally, though, as all good things must come to an end, the music slowed to a stop. All of the watching crowd looked up, faces turned to the figure standing limp on the balcony. She looked tired, but not fatigued. It was more the kind of ecstatic weariness gained from joyful work. She slowly took a deep breath, a sigh, and looked down to the sea of faces watching in awe, still stunned by the beautiful dance.

"With a shocked gasp she saw the people gathered watching her, and took a step back. She turned with a flowing motion and blew inside the door in embarrassment and fear. It was fear &endash; it was nearly tangible as the energies of her dance still lingered in the courtyard. She quickly closed the door and curtains, but a silhouette remained, standing against the wall next to the door recovering its composure. The people in the courtyard, seeing there would be no more dance, and still dazed by the dance, wandered slowly off to their respective quarters of the city. Myself, I stood awhile, but saw no more of the dancer and continued to the alchemist's shop.

 

"I never saw the EarthDancer again. Though I returned to the courtyard several times, the only sign she had ever existed was the occasional strain of melody caught on the wind, the ripples in the fountain's pool. The music, however, I never quite lost, and I still hear the melodies of wind and water. For this I am truly grateful to the Dancer.

"I have often wondered why the woman was so ashamed of the magic she gave to the crowd. It was a personal treasure, all her own, though some treasures do far more good when shared than when locked away inside. She may have been afraid of being killed or driven away as her ancestors had. Maybe she had been before. That is the only reason I can imagine for her fear, for the dance itself was not something to be afraid of. The crowd, those chosen by their ability to hear the music, were not to be feared as the masses, though. They were obviously different in some way from those of the city, for they had heard the music while the masses had not. Perhaps she did not realize this. Many a time I have wished to see the dance again, to tell the woman not to fear her talent among those who could appreciate it.

"Her legacy has shaped my life, for in the months that followed I came to realize the purpose sleeping within me when I picked up the sword. I might have seen, at the time, the prophecy in the scabbard &endash; the need that would grow in me. That need to see the land, to know it, could not be filled in the city. I wanted to travel the land and learn to see the beauty in Nature everywhere, to pass it on as the EarthDancer had.

"I eventually gathered the money I needed to buy the sword working under a map maker and then the city guard. Thus I learned the fighting skills I would surely need and gained knowledge of the world around Rothanport. After several years I left Rothanport to seek my destiny in the wilderness. But as always, my children, that is another story."

"Grandfather," Nessa asked quietly, a yawn betraying her tiredness,"What happened to the EarthDancer? Is she still alive? Did you ever see another?"

"Well," the old man finished,"I never saw her or another Dancer again. But I'd like to think that as long as there is Life, the Music, there will be dancers to share their talents. I also hope the one I met eventually overcame her fear and showed the world once more the beauty in Nature, the beauty she and her kind made visible." He slowly stood up from his chair, picking up a sleeping child as he did so. Come now, Nessa, Thalia, get the sleeping children. It's time for bed, little ones."

So the Elder and the children went to bed with dreams of music and a figure on a balcony under the morning sun, dancing to the song of nature.