Robed One

ROBED ONE: 4

Hands numb. Arms dead. Legs screaming in desperation almost as much as his mouth, Royle staggered into the palace chambers, unchallenged by anyone.

Royle had picked up a sword from a body; he had barely noticed.

The chamber was a mess. Limp forms lay unmoving on the ground. Intimidating figures with shields carved out of bone were amassed at the far wall, watching Royle like a Mouthalian eagle watched prey.

Where's Azmir?

The typically proud and regal High Lord crouched cowering behind him.

A whisper of silence blew throughout the room. As if the wind itself was frustrated by the noise, or subsequently, by the lack of it.

The men surveyed this lone warrior and he them.

In the eyes of various killers he saw unexpected emotion behind the anticipated glare of unwavering intensity, subjected to the mind's lust for blood and violence.

To seek blood is a hazardous expedition. Not only will it affect the physical function of the body but it will strain the mind until it shatters under the prodigious stress, confusing and heightening passion and emotions until it detonates.

Men started forward, an intimidating force of swords and spears.

Royle groaned, falling to his knees and closing his eyes. Shaking his head at this pointless venture, he waited patiently for impending doom to arrive and pondered. Strange as it was, in his last moments, Royle's mind wandered. Was the objective of life to survive until you died? Or was it more? Perhaps the goal of life is not to sit waiting in the dark, but to dance in the light. How come some people weaved an elegant and graceful dance yet others tripped and stumbled? Were they not dancing upon the same dance floor, dancing the same dance?

Again, a voice purred in the inner depths of his soul. It reverberated through him, any other thought or impractical sense of righteousness halted, listening to the effortless roll of the tongue as one might watch water crash upon rocks.

But what did it mean?

Royle concluded his final brooding and lifted his eyes up to his attackers.

With a start, he realised they hadn't taken even a step toward him and his impending end. Instead they stood silently, like ghosts, in astonishment and unease.

Then he noticed the source of their awe.

He was glowing. Beaming bright white light emanated all through him, casting a scintillating glow.

And suddenly he saw it.

The men were no longer, the spots were now occupied with circular rings of subdued light and oppressive darkness somehow working as one.

Royle searched deeper. Memories, emotions, lessons all flew by in a blur of deafening sound and hazy light.

There.

Almost at the end of a tunnel was a thread. The strands were made of pure, vivid light that interlaced around each other. It made everything around it seem dull.

It was perfect.

He could now sense it in all the things around him, living or not.

Bonds instead of objects.

Royle took a slow and composed breath.

A pin drop would have been heard all throughout the town. The air itself was soundless. Unstoppable sounds of nature outside abruptly halted.

A figure clad in brown robes.

Resting upon a rock of moss and little beastlings. What was he thinking as he surveyed the infamous black forest below?

Royle knew this was in his mind, no vision or dream of this encounter ever felt like this. So surreal.

The Robed One turned, and lifted his hood up.

He tried to look at his face but it was a sparkling haze of blur. Royle got the vague impression that the Robed One was unknowing that he was a beacon in robes against a sky that was now as jet-black as the forest below. A light to behold in all its purity.

The Robed One spoke.

The words were familiar yet distant at the same time.

He knew.

All this time, he had known. He was so busy trying to find it that he had missed the meaning altogether. He had depended on it working and it had failed him.

It all made sense.

Royle, a desperate, woebegone outcast now faced the room with a confident gait, a straight back and a look of enlightenment in his very persona.

He took a deep breath and his worry, mixed with the worst forms of doubt, fled. His eyes now shone a startling brown, mixed with white and jade.

And, he knew the words.

It all made sense.

Deep within him, the Robed One smiled.

What you seek will always flee but will find you when you need it most.

The room exploded with light.