The Challenge:
Bo the Traveler vs. “Seth the Enforcer”
The Verdict:
More than three weeks have passed and now the cold lands of the north are behind Bo and his men. The steep, wooded mountains called the Sewannas stood before them now, and watched as the men crept closer and closer. The mountains had been waiting for them in plain sight for the past four days, and now the men had finally begun their ascent of the great Sewannas. The going was slow, as was anticipated. The mountains here are steep and tall and thick with trees. There are few worn paths and certainly none to be found as of yet. Only the sun and stars could help guide them, and now, under all the limbs and leaves neither sun nor star could reach them. It was much darker and musty than Bo remembered. It would seem that a taint had covered this land.
After two days of climbing the land was starting to level off. Walking was much easier now. The tress were a bit more scattered and now the sun’s light was falling through the canopy in golden streams reflecting through patchy mist and drifting dust. One of the men suggested setting up camp and taking a rest. Bo knew that there were at least six more hours of new found light, but also knew that he and his men were very tired. Bo gave the order to set up camp and the men cheered. A new strength was sensed as the men unpacked their things and set up their tents and hammocks. Some men scouted the land for food as others gathered fallen branches for a fire. Bo sat down on a nearby boulder and closed his eyes. The wind was blowing softly and the taint that he sensed earlier seemed to lessen. The air smelled sweet with blooms and the wind was cool. Camping here for the night was the right decision, he could feel it.
That night Bo and the men ate very well. Two rabbits had been caught and stewed with some of the food they had brought with them. Stale bread and molding cheese was also eaten until everyone was full and drowsy. Everyone was full and smiling, but did not feel like cheering. This was a quiet night and the men enjoyed resting and listening to wind wonder through the trees. Eyes shut and minds drifted from dream to dream. Bo had many dreams that night…dreams of his home and his family, and nightmares of the evil that was taking claim to the land. However, the most important dream came to him clearly just before the sun could wake him. In this dream Bo saw an old man standing in a circle of very old and broad trees. The old man was drawing lines in the dirt with a yellow staff. As Bo approached the old man, dust began to circle around the old man. Both Bo and the old man were slowly lifted into the air. As Bo watched his feet leave the ground the old man looked at him and said, “The wind knows the way, and I know the wind. Seek me out.”
The following morning Bo was awakened to the noise of the others eating a light breakfast. Bo sat up and stretched his arms over his head and looked around to see what was left to eat. Luckily there was enough stew left over from the night before to fill up his bowl. Bo took his bowl and wondered around the make-shift camp, saying the usual “good morning” and “hello”. After finishing his breakfast he took to the task of packing up the camp. The sun had already cleared the fog and the new day’s warmth was beginning to grow. As soon as every tent was packed and every hammock rolled the men set off again. They knew that last night’s leisure would not return soon. After all, they were on a mission. So with their heavy packs and lightened spirits they marched on. Through the thick and over the stones their path wondered for hours and days, yet they were no closer to the next destination than when they had left the camp. Something was holding them back, twisting the paths and turning their minds. Bo had grown aware of this but had no answer, so he said nothing until a solution presented itself.
Finally, one cloudy day high in the mountains, Bo noticed something out of place. He had just passed a large boulder with many cracks running in every direction. It seemed like an ordinary rock to the rest of the men, but Bo knew it was different somehow. He stopped his men and told them to take a break while he examined the land. Bo walked back towards the strange boulder to get a closer look. At further examination he noticed that the cracks were really crude drawings made many years ago. Years of wind-blown dust had covered many of the lines. In other spots the stone had begun to flake away. Bo gently cleared the dust with his hands trying to make more sense of the symbols and pictures. He saw what he thought to be an arrow pointing to the west and at its point a small circle within a larger circle. Bo, looking more closely now, noticed that the smaller circle was actually a letter. He stepped up to the rock with a deep breath in his lungs and blew away the remaining dust around circles. After the dust was cleared away Bo knew exactly what he was looking at. This stone, which was once polished smooth, served as a map countless years ago. The letters inside the larger circle spelled an ancient name that had not been spoken in thousands of years. This name was Otis, and Otis was the old man who had given Bo his vision that night at the camp. Everything was coming together…Bo and his men were walking on sacred ground that was more than likely protected by a prayer. That is why he and his men had been so lost. If he had sought out Otis from the beginning he would have saved many steps. Bo gathered his men and informed them of their new direction. They were to head west to find the Circle of trees and the Wind Watcher Otis.
As Bo and his company marched along their new path, he and his men noticed more and more subtle signs that pointed them to the Circle. Symbols marked in the bark of ancient trees, more stones with ancient names, and most importantly, the wind was at their back; taking the men further into the thick but guiding their steps. After two days of climbing and high stepping through the overgrown paths, a clearing was found. The sun was shining from its highest point of the day. The air was thin, but warmer than usual. The men were standing near the edge of a bluff looking down onto a large level clearing below them. In the midst of the clearing, stood seven enormous trees that formed a perfect circle. The trees were large and old with strong branches pointing into a collective spiral. Down they stepped slowly and carefully on the many stone steps that lead to the Circle. The steps were large and flat but had become unstable over many years of weathering. Finally they reached the bottom. The Company had arrived to the dwelling place of the one of the last Wind Watchers.
The Wind Watchers are an ancient race nearly as old as the land our men traveled. Legend tells us that the Wind Watchers were the race selected by the Wind Elders to keep the history and power of lands hidden, but know. They are called the Watchers because they witnessed the lands coming together as the winds gave birth to stone and soil, mountains and hills, rivers and oceans. The Winds shaped the world into how the men know it today…and even still the winds blow. The Watchers hold the knowledge of the Elders, and even use these powers from time to time when it is needed. Though their numbers and power have diminished, they are still a very important part of the world, constantly keeping check on the world and how it is being shaped by man.
Bo and his men slowly made their way into the giant circle of trees to find a modest stone tower positioned perfectly in the center of the circle. The yellow-tinted stones had been laid precisely and polished as to cast a golden halo of light around the tower and onto the trees. As the men approached what seemed to be the entrance to the tower they were greeted by an old man. It was Otis, and he greeted them all with a gentle smile and open arms. Otis knew the Men as he would his own children.
“Bo! I am grateful that you have sought me out. Come, come…follow me. We have many things to discuss and you have much to hear,” said Otis.
Bo and the rest followed Otis quietly into the tower, still looking about, taking in all the beauty around them. The air inside the tower smelled old, but not unpleasant. And to their surprise there was more room to move about inside the tower than they had first thought. They walked into a room at the back of the tower where large books and sturdy shelves covered the walls. Adequate seating was available, also at their surprise. Otis made his way to the end of a stone table, where a larger but modest chair sat. The table at which they sat was unlike any thing the men had seen. The center of the table was sloped down like a shallow bowl. In the bowl was something that resembled sand, but reflected more light than usual. All the men sat down but said nothing. They awaited the wisdom of the old man, this Wind Watcher, Otis. Otis took his seat and took a large breath and exhaled.
Otis spoke with a certain, yet whispery voice, “Children of the South, though I wish to spend this time with more glad greetings, we have little time to lose. The Enemy has grown all too strong with time, and now his shield is polished and his sword is drawn. If we are to overcome this evil, we must strike soon and deal a blow that cripples its stance. The Isbelallis has spread. Yes, your land is in peril, but many other lands are now under the control of the Enemy and you are still weeks from Chestershire.
Bo unfolded his hands and lifted his head, with breath drawn ready to speak. Otis spoke again. “Bo,” he said kindly, “yes, I know of your long travels and you have done very well. This land is too large for only one man to walk un-aided. That is why I came to you that night. I wish to offer my assistance. I am too old to fight, but my knowledge can serve you. I will use the power of the Wind Elders to hasten your step.” Bo felt a shiver come across his shoulders. Not only was he to witness such a power, he was to be a part of something so ancient and unseen. Bo stood to his feet, ready for his journey.
“Sit down, Bo” said Otis. “Time is failing us, Bo, but haste in the end will only slow our steps more.” “I have something to show you…something that will be of much help.”
Bo sat down, humbled. At that moment, Otis closed his eyes and grasped his staff. The air inside the room stirred, and the table shuttered. Then, to Bo’s amazement, the “sand” that filled the table’s center began to softly lift itself into the air; forming shapes that began to become familiar to Bo. It was Chestershire, or at least a land nearby. He recognized the hills and tree lines. The sand then changed its shape as to move through the land like a flying eye. Bo was lead to a nearby cave that he had never seen or even known about. The eye took flight through the cave and arrived at a large opening. The sun was shining there, and the opening was surrounded by steep rock walls that were easily two hundred feet tall. Then, in the midst of the opening a tower appeared. It looked very much like the one Bo was presently in. Once the tower could be seen, the sand became more scattered, and then fell to the table. Bo looked at Otis, who had opened his eyes and was already grinning back.
“The dust on this table is what the Wind Elders used to form your lands” said Otis. As he continued he stood to his feet, “It is very rare, and most would not even know if they had seen it. The dust has taken you through my mind, and I have shown you the way to the Wind Tower closest to your town. Now, Bo, you may get on your feet. Follow me to the top of my Tower.”
The men all stood up and followed the old man up winding stairs to the top of the tower. Once they had all gathered Otis approached Bo and handed him an old, but cared for, blue book.
Otis whispered to Bo briefly and then stepped away. The men were instructed to form a circle around Otis and to close their eyes. Then, as Otis raised his staff into the air, a strange wind began to spiral away from him, circling the men. As the wind reached its full velocity, the men’s feet slowly left the stone roof of the tower, and began to spin gently with the wind. Otis shouted a strange prayer in an ancient tongue that none of the men had heard. Suddenly, the men turned into men-shaped clouds of dust and blew away to the south, with a speed unmatched by the strongest of birds.
When the men opened their eyes, they were standing on top of the tower they had seen at the table. The men were silent. Bo, opened his eyes last, and looked at the blue book that Otis had given him. Inside were many ancient prayers, but one was marked with a special crest. Bo began to mutter it to himself, when suddenly one of the men yelled out. Bo stopped reading and looked to his left, were one of his men was returning to normal…he had begun to turn to dust again. Bo realized that the prayed that Otis had marked was they one that was used to send them to this place. He also noticed that the prayer was broken into three parts: the first part opened the prayer, the second announce who was involved, the third part announced the destination, and closed the prayer. Bo had read a random passage aloud, which is why only one man was affected.
The men wasted no time marching to the nearby town of Chestershire. Bo longed to spend a leisurely day walking the hills and sampling memories of a childhood spent in the shade and by the lakes. He was nearly overwhelmed by his thoughts. All the beauty and innocence that was taken from him quickened his step. Bo and his men where on the march again, and all that stood in his way should be prepared for the death blow. Minds were set and tempers began to flair as the men began to witness the horror that the Enemy had brought to this once peaceful town. Trees were fell and hills scorched. The streams were choked with filth and peaceful paths were now stalked by desperate thieves. Five miles the men marched to the town of Chestershire, and Bo had gripped the hilt of his sword with every step. The sun was blending the clouds with colors of deep orange and red. Night would come soon.
When the men had finally arrived, they were greeted by smoke and grime. All the fine homes that lined the streets were is disrepair. The streets were thick with vermin, and beggars turned a sharp eye at every corner. A small gathering of people followed the men to the town’s center. The crowd did not know that the men they followed were bringing the Light and freedom to their land. Once the men had reached the town’s center, Bo climbed some nearby stairs and raised a torch to address the people of Chestershire.
“My brethren!” he shouted with a commanding voice, “I come to bring peace to our land, and to drive out the darkness that has plagued us all for too many years. We must now band ourselves together and fight the Enemy! We are strong if you still have faith. Follow me and we will be of our strife!”
Suddenly, the crowd parted and soon disappeared into shadows and alleys. Two large features stepped into the torch light. It was two men. One was more round and had dark skin. He had been given the name Fuzzy. The other was more square, and bit taller. His skin was tan and was cover with hair, and his name was none other than Seth the Enforcer. Seth wore an evil badge on his chest, and hung a large black staff from his waste. The sleeves of Seth’s shirt were pinned back, exposing his bulking, hair-covered fore-arms. Fuzzy wore a tight under shirt with a dark blue cloak over it. Both were standing now only a few arms distance from Bo and his men.
“You killed my father,” said Seth. “Now you come here to bring peace and be rid of me? You will do no such thing. My father whispered of your power before you killed him, and I have prepared myself for your arrival. You will not leave this place with your head, Bo the homeless.”
Seth’s words were like a spark onto dry kindling. Bo threw the torch at Fuzzy and drew his sword all in one motion. Fuzzy, being more limber than any man his size, collapsed onto the ground in a dance-like fashion and the torch passed just over his head, burning the top-most hairs on his head. Seth brandished his black staff and clasped the evil badge that was on his chest onto his staff. The air began to pulse and distort with a steady tempo. Now, with all weapons drawn, the men stared and twitched waiting for a first move. The match was on.
Fuzzy made the first attack. He spun around onto his toes and leaped gracefully into the air. His movements were quicker than Bo could anticipate, and that being so, Fuzzy landed a kick to Bo’s chest. Bo was knocked back and stumbled a bit from the force of the blow. Seth laughed and snickered as Bo shook his head in disbelief. When Bo came to his senses, the next thing he saw was the black back-hand coming from a twirling Fuzzy. Bo would not let this foul man beat him again. Bo stepped back and held his sharp sword in the path of Fuzzy’s spinning arms. Dark blood flew from the sword as both arms were cleaved from Fuzzy’s body. Fuzzy let loose a horrible scream and dropped to his knees, flailing his bloody nubs wildly in the air. Bo ended his suffering with a thrusted sword through the back of Fuzzy’s neck. His lifeless body fell to the ground, sliding slowly from Bo’s sacred blade. Bo flashed his eyes onto Seth, who was staring back with wild eyes. The pulse from his dark weapon quickened, and Bo turned to face him squarely.
Seth began to growl and curse. The hair from his arms grew and brushed the ground beneath him. His eyes went black as he grasped his weapon with both hands. Bo steadied his stance and held his blade before him. He knew that Seth was about to show his strength. The tempo of Seth’s dark weapon blended into a steady stream of distortion. The air immediately around Seth’s body waved and rippled. Seth’s feet left the ground and continued to rise into the air until he matched the height old trees. The dark staff was then lifted above Seth’s head, a liquid-like shimmer grew and was thrown to the ground were Bo stood. Bo leaped to the side, but only just in time to avoid the shot. The resulting impact blew a small crater into the ground, and Bo was thrown into the air. Before Bo could regain his stance, another projectile was thrown. This time Bo jumped clear of the shot and avoided the blast. Bo steadied his hands and locked his eyes onto Seth, who was taunting Bo from the air. A third and larger sphere was grown from Seth’s staff. Seth flung it with all his might. The air thundered as the shot to flight towards Bo. Bo closed his eyes, and his blade came to life. The blade flashed and shimmered, and Bo help the sword with both hands, laid the tip of the sword to his side and made a mighty swing when the sphere reached him. The sphere that Seth had shot was now screaming back at him. Seth had not thought this was possible. All he could do was flinch and wait for the impact. When the sphere reached its new target, an explosion erupted with a great force and Seth fell to the ground. Bo opened his eyes. He walked to where Seth landed, and rolled him over onto his back. Bo leaned over and peered into Seth’s eyes. Seth, who knew he was defeated, began to laugh again.
“How do you find the death of you and your family humorous?” asked Bo.
“You cannot defeat us all. I only command a small portion of the power that you oppose.” Seth whispered. “Through my death, we learn more of you and your strength. My sibling will not let you live!”
Bo, straightened his back and looked onto Seth with disgust. He then grasped his sword, blade pointing down, and shoved the blade down and through Seth’s mouth…pinning his head to the ground. Bo then withdrew and cleaned his blade before putting it away. He had seen enough death for that day. He then noticed the badge that Seth had worn on his chest. It was lying on the ground nearby. He picked it up and cleared the dust from it. It had symbols drawn onto it that Bo has seen in the book that Otis had given him. Realizing its importance, he placed it into his pocket and walked to where his men stood watching.
Bo said, “Men, this battle has been won, but more battles lie ahead. Tomorrow we march again to the Tower. We have much to learn before we travel again.”
Bo and his men then walked to the town’s edge and pitched their tents. Bo slept heavily, and dreamed…
