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Feb. 28th, 2006 @ 10:53 pm Fehu
This flame is: pessimisticpessimistic
Current Music: Revelution -Judas Priest
"Be careful, Tym you know there are bandits out there," she called as he turned back to see his mothers face and wave one last time, before heading up the mountain side to see Hagen the hermit. It was a fairly short walk, and today was the day Hagen was going to put him through the trials. Looking at his shadow he knew the sun hadn't even shifted a single degree when he reached the cave. Hagen was sitting on a rock in front of his cave, a long tendril of smoke drifted out the long thin pipe that rested between his ancient lips, he seemed lost in sleep or thought.
But just as Tym was about to announce his presence Hagan snapped, "How many times I have too tell you not to hesitate boy?" He glanced up at the boy expectantly and noticed the dark that formed under his eyes. Good he thought, the visions will come quickly enough on their own.
Tym quickly pulled off his pack withdrew the five books, each one was nearly three inches thick, and handed them to the old man. "I've already made my copies and buried them." He informed his teacher before the man could ask him.
"Good, good my boy. Now," the old man pulled a small leather pouch from behind his back and opened it. Tym's fingers found a small stone and held it in front of his tightly shuteyes. He knew what was coming; he knew would look at the rune and run up the mountain with it until it spoke to him. Most of the time the rune warned the new adult of dangers coming their way, sometimes the dangers even warned of something that affect the whole community. When the old man's eyes drifted over the stone he knowledge of what was coming brought a frown to his ancient face.
Tym knew his role too well for it too be changed now. His feet carried him till the mountain air became too clear to deliver enough oxygen to his body. Staring at the stone he fell into a deep meditation.

Fehu-possessions-ownership.
The air became so clear it ceased to be, the rite no longer matter, time ceased to be. Possessions are things that can be lost, things that cause envy. As a thing that can grant status only by taking it from someone else, possessions are inherently destructive. Throughout time the possession of belief has cause men who were best friends in childhood to kill each other. Yet almost all people seemed to want more. These things were the seeds of war. People are changed by their possessions. And while they would normally resist such a change, were it to come from any other source, they continually seek out more possessions.

Tym understood and opened his eyes slowly ready to impart the fresh wisdom he achieved. Standing up to savor the view of his village, he saw a dark cloud hanging over his home. An ominous feeling asserted itself in his stomach, as he told himself it was just a highly localize storm. Till he reached the ancient mentor's cave where he found Hagen collapsed in softening dirt. Tym flew toward the man hoping that a little life remained in the frail form. "Hagen," Tym pleaded more with some higher power then the dying mentor in his arms, but the non the less the eyelids thick with age and time grown short floated up as if called by a magic spell.
"Tym, what have you learned," Hagen's voice was almost too soft to hear and they may be the last words he spoke aloud but Tym heard him as clearly as if he screamed from the mountain tops.
"Possession have the potential to make our lives much easier but also more dangerous." Tym wasn't going to waste this great tutors last statement or waste arguing how these words should be spent.
"Then you are a man, go impart your wisdom to the world." Hagen christened him, normally that meant it was time for the initiate to work on his or her book, but this time they were much more literal. Hagen's head fell back and his eyes stopped seeing. Tym carried him to the place he buried his copies of the books knowing this was why he buried them. Underground they were safe from the fire. He quickly cleared a spot in the whole big enough for the surprisingly light old, by placing the carefully bound volumes in his bag, before tucking Hagen in with earth. And he said after burying the books now he repeated, "Soil black nurture this seed of knowledge and protect it, that it may bear future fruit in time of famine." Looking at the charred smoldering remains of his once prosperous village he realized the rune was right and it was time to do as Hagen told him and leave the ghostly fire pit.
He walked till the sunset and then decided there was no safe haven he could retreat to like the fading light, so he might as well walk till the sun came up. But when the moon reached its zenith he glanced over his shoulder one more time to see how far he'd come. The could over the town was just a speck on the horizon seeming very insignificant especially compared to three men right behind him.
The one who seemed to be the leader smiled clearing his throat, “now that we have your attention, what's in the bag?”
“Just some books, take them if you want them.” He would have been a fool to start ignoring rune now.
“I will.” The leader took the bag off his shoulder and the man on his left roughly pushed Tym out of the way, causing Tym to loose his balance and fall into the ditch. He wasn't hurt but he could seem to convince his body that it wanted to move before he passed out. After all he had been up for a whole week.

A woman cloaked in white descended through the treetops, the most beautiful music seemed to cling to cling to her. “Hello, Tym you've been through much you don't deserve. Take this and play with me. Remember the poems.” She drew a small lyre from the folds of her robe and handed it to Tym.
“But I don't...”
“Shhh,” she silenced his protest, “I'll show you.” Tym broke several strings but the lady's barest touch seemed to repair it.
After a time Tym heard the most beautiful emanating all around, Tym was just about to ask the lady about it when he realized she had faded.

The last rays of the sun drifted lazily over Tym, as he sat up with a jolt and the memories of the past 'day' explained why he was napping in a gutter. Looking around he notice small lyre lying near his hand. Memories of his dream flooded through him when he touched it. He picked it up and tested his skill, none had faded from the dream, he knew that it was a gift from the world. The road called to him to resumed his sojourn.
The night passed without event and the day followed suit and the next night and next day. Day and night began passing so quickly the lone traveler lost track how many had passed. He began to wonder at the road he was on and how much time had passed since it had seen use. A few scattered trees stood near the center, but the road was wide enough that it would take a long time for it to be completely grown over. Tym wondered what army trampled it and how long ago.
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