I awaken to the an acidic smell filling my nose. It burns my
nostrils, and it is reminiscent of something in my past. I struggle with
the memory. I can't pull it from the fog in my mind. The only thing I
remember is a face. Or more so her hair. Always changing. From brown, to
pink, to blond, blue, and then flipping between purple and red. Her
hair always changing, as if to tease my memory of her. As if to say who
am I?
Now that is question I should be asking. Who Am
I? Am I this woman in my mind. No I am male. I feel a connection with
her. I feel love; yet it has changed. Become more distance more lonely. A
love turned into loneliness what has happened here.... what has
happened to me. This vision of beauty with her ever changing hair, and
her eyes speaking volumes of hope for the future. Regardless of what
happened; this memory brings a much needed smile to my face. A hard
truth discovered; yet still uncovered still buried deep in my mind. I
try to save as much as I can of the memory, but it starts to fade. I try
to pull the beauty back. I try to force the image into my mind but it
slips. I am left with only the ever changing hair.
The
dark gloom of my prison cell, and the smell of something.... something
familiar. The smell horrible as it is reminds me of my home. A flash
memory bursts into my mind. Burning. Burning. Burning. My house... my
home it is being turned to ash. People look on; uncaring, as they walk
by hand in hand.
I snap fingers an summon a ball of
light. It illuminates the small room. I see dirty and dust covered
stones which are laid unevenly to shape my small prison cell. The
sunlight has never touched these stones since they have been placed
here. The stones are dead. Placed by their brick layer never to move
never to see the sun again. There is no door, no window, and no access
of any kind. How did I get here? Who am I? Why me? Why have I been
placed in this cramped, gloomy place. To be forgotten forever? To be
punished for something I am not even aware of?
The ball
of light spins and twirls around me. Its only desire to serve me. Its
love for me unconditional as it brings light into the room, as it
breaths life into my soul. I begin to check the stones on wall. I being
to check for some small button some kind of lever. Anything! Anything to
get me out of here. Who am I? The question repeats and repeats itself
in my mind. Growing ever louder, growing ever faster. Faster and faster
louder and louder the question beats into me. Finally I can take it no
more. If I have no name than I shall name myself. I am Nidglonous.
A
scraping sound fills the air, as stone on stone moves grindingly slow.
Dust fills the still air, and a passage way opens. The beauty in my mind
smiles. Her changes to pink, and short cropped. I begin to walk into
the passage way. The hallway has more even stones, and they are even
somewhat clean. Someone cares about this area. Someone has been here
before. As I walk through the hallway torches begin to light themselves,
and I walk towards the stair case. It winds around and around. At the
top I see for the first time in far to long; sunlight peaking through
what looks like clouds. I get closer to the window. I can stick my head
out of the window, and I look down. I would never survive such a drop. I
look up and the tower seems to go on forever. What I thought were
clouds are really smog. Industrial City. I remember this place. I
remember this smell.
This has to be the Tower of Camah.
Why have the wizards brought me back here. I have already passed their
tests, as the memory of my release comes back to me. This must be
another test. I have never heard of this kind of test before. They have
taken almost everything that makes me who I am. I have to remake myself?
Was I not good enough before?
My ball of light finally
dies. Never knowing more then its desire to fill my sight with light.
Never knowing more then its unconditional love for me. I continue my way
up the stair case, and it leads to a single door. I push the heavy
wooden door open. Its hinges have been rusted for some time. Who ever
cares for these stones cares little for the metal in the door. The door
opens and it reveals a large room. A fire place burns quietly to my
left. A pot of stew boils over top, and a bowl is in the center of the
room.
Questions flood my mind. These are the wizards of
Camah everything that comes from them is a test. What is this bowl's
true purpose. Will it feed me,or will it destroy me even more. Her hair
becomes long and purple, and a frown fills her face. I walk cautiously
up to the bowl in the middle of the room. My fingers wave and flick
themselves into the pattern of insight. I look into the bowl, and I see
nothing. Strange so symbolic is the bowl to me. Exactly in the center of
the room. The room seems smaller. It is smaller. The room is shrinking.
I try to calm myself. Years of training going down the drain. As I
struggle to find the pattern that will dispel this rooms enchantment.
Nothing is working, and I have tried everything that they have taught
me.
As hope drains anger fills my soul. The fire
shrinks. How could they. These wizards, these charlatans. They said they
would teach me all that they know. Yet here I am unable to complete
this test. Unable to do anything. Nidglonous what stupid name. How could
I have chosen such a weak and useless name? The fire shrinks. This
time I catch the meaning. This is a room hope. This is a test of hope.
Her hair changes to blond, as she laughs. Hope. Hope for what? Hope for
the future. I have no past, but I will have a future. The test makes
sense. I grab the bowl from the center of the shrinking room. Walk over
to the boiling pot of stew, and feed myself. I sustain myself, as I
confirm my hope for the future. My hope that I will learn more then has
be taught to me. My hope that I will find my home again. The fire erupts
turning pink, purple, red and blue. The flames consume the pot. Her
eyes gaze into me. Her hair changing so fast so much like the flames
before me. I walk confidently into the fire.
White
stones perfectly placed in rows and columns form the hallway before me.
Massive bonfires of every color imaginable line each side of the
hallway. The hall seems to go on for ever. I walk, and walk, and walk. I
walk so far that the fires begins to repeat themselves. In my mind her
hair turns purple. This hallway is looping I think to myself. What is
the test? I examine the closest fire. Its flames a delightful vermilion.
The next fire is green, and the one after it is blue. What is the test?
I begin to sort every color I have seen. Perhaps there is a color that
is excluded. No not a color, but a shade. There is no black flame, and
no white flame. I know how to create each fire, but which one to choose.
I can create only one at a time, and I am sure that which ever one I
choose will be my answer to this question. What is the question?
Every
fire so many colors. Her hair so many colors. In my mind her eyes
sparkle with delight. White or Black. That is the question. To hide or
to reveal. To include or exclude. White light creates all color. Yet
when you draw all color become black. Am I a creator or a describer. I
know the answer, as it is instilled in my very being. I created a name
for myself, as I created hope in my mind. I am Nidglonous a White Wizard
of Camah.
I am teleported to the top of the tower.
There stands a Vermilion Sage, and Picnous. Picnous smiles his teeth
beaming white, as he hands me my staff. The Sage, a creator of love,
asks me the final question. Who is she? She was my hope, and my desire.
She was my future, and my love. She is what was. Now I am all. Now I am
free. The Sage smiles and gives me his blessing.
Picnous
an I turn to Industrial City. We raise our staffs high into the high
into the smog filled sky. We are beyond movements of the hand we are
beyond incantation of words and phrases. We are white wizards creators
of what we want to make. Magic crackles in the air, as power floods
through us and into the sky above. The smog clears. The sun shines on
Industrial City for the first time since she remade herself. The sky
clears, but the smog continues to pour out of the chimneys of her
industrial complex.
Father Light looks down, and is amused.
The High Druid sensing a weakness for the first time in far to long. Sends his trees to war.
