The wind swept powerfully over the uneven terrain; yet its bite was not fierce and its sting not cold. The pale orange of the setting sun behind the blanket of black clouds cast a mystical aura over the land; giving shadows to a shadow. The grass was not green, but a darkening blend of unnatural growth. Intimidating mountains stooped ever around the boundary of this place, like a great wall of rock with no gate. The soundless evening downed one’s mind in a harmless state; the roar of the wind not as violent as expected. It was otherworldly; this place, and I knew not which power could have so created or spawned such a blissful eerie land. My feet moved as if controlled by some unknown force, and my muscles seemed without power or haste. A vague memory of my destination splintered in my mind, and I thought back to the days before I entered this haven. Or so I tried. My memory of the outside lands washed from my head like water over a fresh canvas.
A sudden dull stinging about the breadth of my form drew me from my contemplations, and I looked downward to see my garments of clothing burning from my very flesh. My tunic and breeches dissipated in strange flames of soft orange, and my belted sword and daggers fell from my waist. I moved to turn and retrieve them and hence this is when it came to my knowledge that I was not touching the ground. I floated above the soil and rock by the will of a being more powerful than I by far, and so I did not resist; and it struck me distantly that I wanted to be overcome; to embrace this power that could end my existence.
I continued my travel; naked and at ease for one without knowledge or understanding. Long I floated low above the faded rolling hills of pale golden grass. Somewhere amidst the chaos that was my mind, I found peace in those moments. The first glimpse of my destination filled me with awe, and I knew instantly that this which I gazed upon, was the source of the power that carried me, of everything mystical in this land. The great tree was that of ancient times, likely dating back to the very creation of all we know. Its dark bark was marked with vertical running symbols of an unearthly orange; a language I had never seen before. The symbols flared with inner life, as if breathing with light as the tree drew breath. Its enormous limbs stretched out with strength and harboured leaves of faint golden appearance that shimmered in the pale sunlight.
I was set down before the trunk of this mighty tree, and every inch of my body demanded that I kneel with inferior creation; and alas this was not the will of the tree, but of my own bewilderment and weak self. The tree stretched high into the skies, like a great tower of Kings of Kings. The base made my strong shoulders seem weak and insignificant.
“Would you defend these lands?” Came the all-powerful booming voice that seemed to encompass all free space around me. “Would you die for the harmony of my domain with veracity and valour undistinguished?”
“I would”, I replied, and my response was not forced of fear or compulsion.
The great tree seemed to split in two, and from the centre of the now gaping expanse floated out sword and armour. The faint golden lines in the black armour and sheath filled me with reason and gratitude, as only the armour of a Shenarian could.
“Take the place of your brother before you, and serve your father with pride, for all things wilt, but here in the lands I have set apart from life, you will endure to die for cause and love.”
The voice paused, and I looked to the great tree, too stricken with awe to respond, while also no wanting to cause interruption to a power I could not fathom.
“Death for the cause of beauty and harmony is outweighed by my judgment“, the great voice went on. “For I am God on Earth, and you, as many others have been before you, will serve my will. Not in vain or enslavement, but for justice you know to be right. It brought you here, and now you will kill for it. In your death you will enter the haven I exemplify, and you will be a Lord of the Golden leaf. In Fealty, there is redemption; even for you Deriosen.”
My eyes began to grow heavy, as if anxious. My tongue sat dry in my mouth. I was without words noble enough for this power I felt so certain could be claimed real, though perhaps, I had finally fallen through the slight gap in the cracks of the world, and fell for years to land on the edge of existence. A beach leading away from the shore where rests the island not born of gods or greatness, but alone stands the Turner and the Wheel of time. His face is cloaked so I cannot see, but there are eyes in that darkness, passing no judgement yet demanding obedience from all who suffer at the will of the Turner and his Wheel. Those above I left when I fell, they suffer to this gigantesque form who knows not what power he commands. The Turner and his Wheel.
My eyes grow heavier, and I drift back to the existence I question real.
“Should you deny me”, the tree boomed, “This haven will fade like the others. Once there rested havens across the breadth of this place, too vast to title, to old to agitate with words of any tongue.”
My eyes began to burn and I clutched my now aching head.
The tree, seeming to ignore my current anguish, continued its words of prophesy, yet I could not for all the will in my honed and trained body could not conjure the strength to focus on the words and resist temptation to console my splitting head.
“Please!” I said as loudly as courage would allow, “A great fire blisters my mind! Your words are distant.”
“Demand focus of your duty, Deriosen”, was all the tree offered, and I felt as though I would simply fall lifeless from pain.
“Please!” I yelled, my heightened voice like a stake in my already charred skull.
“Will you save this haven?” The tree thundered.
“Yes! If it costs me my life, this place shall not wilt!”
The fire in my mind ceased quickly, and to replace the horrid red, now came the comforting black of nothingness. I fell to the grass naked, but I remained lifetimes from feeling such an impact. I resided then with the Turner of the Wheel of Time once more.
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