Ageless

Chapter 6

The long procession of travelers continued straight through the center of the valley, alongside the river towards the palace, which stood dark and solitary against the morning sky. The wide red clay road ushered us through flat straight fields towards the city, like one giant red carpet. Through the fog, I could make out the shadow of the giant wall that enclosed the city.

After a time, the fields turned into vast orchards: neat, endless lines of trees and bushes bursting with colorful fruit. There were small sagging trees not much larger than shrubs, speckled with bright juicy oranges, as well as much taller apple trees, better at concealing their fruit in dense green foliage. Fallen apples littered the ground around each thick trunk, waiting to be collected.

Scores of farmers tended the orchards, stopping only to shoot the occasional accusatory glance at the endless stream of travelers, as if to warn them not to steal the literal fruits of their labor.

Our detour began when we were only a few miles from the gate, and a large pine forest rose up from the plains that bordered the opposite bank of the river. Ko'sa took me by the arm and led me over a small wooden bridge to the other side of the bank, breaking away from the crowds and towards the edge of trees. "This is the National Forest," she informed me, as she pushed aside the needles of a pine sentinel and motioned for me to enter.

As we walked deeper into the underbrush, the sound of horses, wagon wheels, and voices faded into nothing. In my experience, forests were noisy places, filled with the sound of crickets, woodpeckers, cicadas, birds and other various forms of wildlife. In the National Forest, I heard none of these things. I could see crows sitting atop branches turn their heads as we walked by, and squirrels peering out from hiding spots to observe us, but they all did so with an unnatural silence.

The quiet made everything we did seem loud and disruptive. I could hear the rhythm of our breath, and cringed at each snap of twigs under our shoes. It felt like we were walking through a still-life painting, trampling over scenery as fragile as cobwebs, one that had taken an artist hours of painstaking detail to create.

Ko'sa must have been unnerved by the stillness too, because she began to hum as we walked. The tune was sad and slow, yet comforting. It reminded me of childhood, as nostalgic and wistful as slipping into an old pair of shoes.

I waited until she finished, then said, "That was beautiful. What song was that?"

"That's the 'Lament of the First Priest'. First song they taught us in church. A hymn almost as old as the country itself."

"Yeah? Does it have words too?"

"We learned 'em, but I don't pay much attention in classes and they never make much sense to me anyway. It's the story behind it that's important, they say."

We passed into a dark canopy of branches and shadow fell over us. Leaves were fluttering down slowly from the branches like large green snowflakes. "Well? You going to tell it to me?"

"What is this, some kind of test?" She caught a leaf dancing in front of her face and began to shred it with her fingers. "Supposedly it was the song of the First Priest, he's the Patron Saint of our church. Represents everything that we're to strive to be. Legend goes that he lived during a time of corruption in the church, enough to anger the Gods. He rallied up support from within to drive out a pair of evil pontiffs. They had been corrupted by greed and were defiling the religion."

"Sounds a lot like Jesus."

"Jesus?" She looked confused. "Don't know nuthin' about him."

"He's kind of like my church's version of the First Priest. Savior of man and all." I stopped and looked at the girl, curious. "Do you believe it all Ko'sa? I mean, are you religious?"