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22. THE ENCOUNTER
For what seemed like eternities, the two glided deeper into the cave.
They softly chanted, while handling the oars, to keep awake. The sensation crusting in their nostrils every time they took a breath was heavy, for poison was in the air. It made their eyelids droop, and their heads weighty.
Freegirl said, “I realize the imortance of breathing consciously and deeply, but what about this air?”
“All humans are built with a filtering system, Freegirl, to sift the best from the worst. We have no other air to breathe, so we will have to adapt. The slower we inhale, the more able we are of filtering the cleanest air.”
His oar scraped the current serenely, as he spoke. “The toxic portion is heavier and will drop out of the airflow. Keep breathing, Freegirl, and breathe slowly.”
She took Elfen’s advice. But for weeks in this intoxication? How could anyone survive total darkness, and polluted air? Would the Teeth Mountains have been easier? Hiking over hills and peaks at least guaranteed clean breathing. The exercise would have been reviving, too, with fresh air in the sunlight.
But it was hopeless to think about the impossible, as the mountains were to no avail now. She relinquished her inner struggle and allowed herself to remain calm. Mellowed into the air, her breath resonated from within.
Then, in the distance, she saw streams of light strike the inside of the wall. “Look!” she pointed.
The Mona Fidelity floated into a warm, bright envelope of flickering moonshine—cracks were lit from the sky, and the tunnel and its banks were immersed in shimmering fingers, of undulating soft light.
Though they had been inside the cave no more than a few endless moments, Freegirl asked if they could stop and be dazzled by the unexpected brightness.
The rays covered a circle upon the river deep in the darkness. Miraculously, the air was fresh and unspoiled. The travelers sat peacefully, absorbing the warmth, and the light orbs of the crystal air.
Several slits in the ceiling, high over their heads, were wide enough to let in the moonlight. Never had the night appeared so bright, as it came through the little cracks in the rock of the gray tunnel.
“It’s as bright as day, isn’t it?” mentioned Elfen. “The Angels are watching us.”
Suddenly Freegirl became apprehensive and shuffled in her seat. She looked over her shoulder. “Who else is watching us?” she asked.
“No one, Freegirl, nothing to fear. If there are people in here, they are too tired to be watching anything. Who could be awake in this air?”
“Yea. But we’re new. And this boat is not small.” She did not want to sound hopeless, but she sensed a threat, and kept looking around her.
The Mona Fidelity continued its way into the long cave, as the rowers engaged their journey upstream.
They kept one torch lit, so they would not run into the wall. After some very arduous rowing— though for a Child of the Glimpse it was basic, for they loved to work—the boat was anchored, and the two curled to rest.
In their uncommon uneasiness—one rested awake, while the other one slept—as long as they were inside this unfamiliar region, the sailors stayed out of the cabin. On top of the deck for sleeping, where they were less likely to be trapped, was their constant domain.
The next day in the Re-Legion, the morning was quiet. The journeyers continued toward the unknown, snacking on corn muffins. It was becoming colder as they ventured, so Elfen brought the sweaters and blankets to the deck, and their warmth was used.
A chamber beneath the cabin of the Mona Fidelity held personal waste. None of it was ever dumped thoughtlessly, and was regularly buried in the ground, away from fresh water.
After many moments of stuffy air and darkness—following the lead of one dim torch—the boaters anchored. It was time to go ashore and dig a hole for the chamber waste. This burial bothered them, for the waste hole would have to be dug close to the river—as there were very few stretches of land between the water and the steep wall.
“We cannot carry the waste for three weeks—if it should take us that long to get through,” said Elfen. “We will bury the waste daily in the ground as always, and trust our Mother has as an excellent filtering system, as we do.”
By now, the travelers had become adjusted to the dank air, yet, they kept looking for light to seep through the ceiling.
Elfen stood on the bank of the Whisper Waters. He had found a small beach—within these walls of cavern gloom—perched at the edge of the river.
By the rock wall digging, his shovel lifted something long. They were bones—human bones. Leg bones and a skull tumbled from the soil, beneath his shovel. He became nauseous, and backed away.
There was one way in which Children of the Glimpse handled their dead. They were burned. This ritual was ancient, as fire helped the spirit leave its body. Plus, the lack of gravesites and their markings, left plenty of space for hunting and residing— open land for the living.
Elfen had been told by an Image long ago, that in other galaxies, humans had eaten one another for two reasons. Either they were starving to death, or they were insane. Knowing the reputation the Re-Legion had, he tried to force insanity from his mind, and buried the chamber leavings quickly, then leaped back onto the Beast.
Freegirl was no slow wit. Eyeing him with a dart, she inquired, “What’s heavy with you?”
“The sooner we get through this dark hole, the safer we’ll be,” he answered.
She looked at him puzzlingly. The night before, while sitting in the moonlight, he had said the Angles were watching—and there was nothing to fear.
Now he looked nervous, a bit fidgety—and more animated than ever—as Freegirl observed him quietly. Elfen never told her about the remains.
And they continued. It was three more days nearer their destination, and all was calm.
Then with joy unexpected, they saw streaks of light peeping through the cracks.
From the ceiling came the welcome glare—only this time it was radiating from the Fireye.
The sun lit the cavern brighter than the first streams they’d seen. They stopped again and immersed themselves in the particles of light for pleasure, truth, and healing.
The clean air was their salvation, and they loved how warm the spot was, in comparison to the rest of the tunnel. Even in the midst of misery, Light finds its way.
But unlike before, someone sat and angrily watched them, from the shadows seething. Ecstatic in the momentary sunlight, the travelers had no clue there was someting dangerous lurking.
Suddenly Elfen said, “Tell me about your mother.”
Freegirl momentarily giggled, for the question was so unexpected. “My mother is wonderful,” she replied heartily.
Then, she began to ponder quietly. They were, no doubt, looking for her. Freegirl missed her parents, but she missed her understanding mother more.
“I guess I almost killed her when I was born,” she continued. “My feet came first, and I was very big. My father is very big.” She sighed, contemplating. “I had to be pulled out of her womb by the midwife’s hands.
"But my mother is very strong. The next day she was out working, with me in her arms. After my birth, the two of them decided one child was enough.”
“No sisters, or brothers…” mused Elfen aloud.
“I have cousins and friends. My Aunt Mermaid has a young daughter named Pala. My Uncle Vok, our poet, and my other aunt have a boy named Blazen, and a girl named Vokala.” Freegirl took a dose of air in through her nostrils. “Vokala is an awesome dancer.”
Then she lowered her eyelids. She was becoming melancholy, but Elfen was gentle and sensitive to her sadness. He looked towards the torch away from her.
After awhile, he said, “It’s amazing. Although we Children are powerful healers, Mother Nature still gives us the occasional difficult birth. This way she has complete control over the balance of life.”
He inhaled the streams of light coming through the cracks. “Do you know sometimes a human is born deformed?”
“What?” she exclaimed. She had never heard of such a thing.
“True,” he explained to her. “Even in our paradise, oddities of nature take place. If the child’s deformity is great, the child will die. In Death, nature controls the balance.
"In rare cases, however, the child might live. And the family must take care of it, for its journey through life is as important as anyone’s, regardless of its defects.”
Freegirl stared at Elfen in amazement. “Woaaaa…” she expressed. “A deformed person?”
Children of the Glimpse sometimes saw deformities in plants, and sometimes before a newborn animal died of its defects, they might see a deformity there, too. But she had never seen a deformed person.
“One who cannot heal?” As she asked this question, her eyeballs really popped open.
“Not like we can,” replied Elfen. “They have chosen a more demanding journey, and healing is much different, than you or I know it to be. Those born without seeing, take longer to learn the focus of mending, for they cannot watch others mending. Deaf people do not use their voices very often, so their healing is without singing. People who have incomplete legs seldom dance or run; and those with deformed hands or arms cannot feed themselves. So one with a birth barrier has to be very imaginative at survival.”
Freegirl listened carefully, and thought a deformed person must, indeed, have a highly advanced imagination. Then she asked, “Do babies ever have brain barriers that make them develop unnaturally?”
Replied Elfen, “Yes, Freegirl. Mother Nature allows all kinds of birth barriers to those who choose to be born with them.”
The two contemplated the fingers of the Fireye a moment longer, then returned rowing upstream. They never knew they were being watched by a very angry man who blamed.
As the fifth night encompassed the travelers, a forlorn moaning, coming from further inside the Re-Legion, irritated the peace. It was similar to the scream they had heard at the tunnel entrance.
A scream of agony. Elfen and Freegirl listened to the tone of horror with great emotional concern.
“This is it, Elfen! I say we turn back!” Freegirl hurried the anxious words out of her lips.
“What? Are you joking?” he asked her.
She sat silently on the bench not far from the oarseats, with her eyes blazing, and her ears tuned, to the groaning that slowly got louder. “Yes, I’m joking,” she whispered harshly. “Humor is all I have, yet I'm terrified.” She spoke in a very flat, unemotional voice.
Elfen grimaced, as a nervous laugh crept from his throat. The moaning he could not ignore sounded half human and half animal.
Then Freegirl blurted a high-pitched, panicky little giggle that sliced into the air. “What in the horrors is that incessant noise, Elfen! I can’t stand it!
The intense noise was growing in volume.
Freegirl stood and hollered into the cavern. “What in the mother is that awful sound!”
Elfen cringed as he saw his passenger, once again, lose her composure, as if she thought a vocal outburst would help their situation.
“Then why don’t you leave?” came a crackling voice from the shore.
Instinctively, Elfen extinguished the torch, with a long-handled iron cup.
“The light makes no difference to us; we’ve been watching you since you first entered the Re-Legion,” said the rough voice.
“I knew it!” Freegirl whispered in a loud expressive tone, as she hopped down to sit behind Elfen, who had returned to his rowing.
“Who are you?” Elfen asked kindly.
“Someone you know. I am Pain, and I am Fear. I am that which hides. I'm what you deny.” The voice was grumbling, and vile. It was a tone new to the travelers. “This place... is not for you,” it finished.
The words hit Freegirl square in the chest, and she curled her elbows into her stomach and bent over. “Oh agonies, what is happening...” she whimpered.
Elfen reached back and patted the side of her calf, as if to say Shhhh, as he continued conversing with the unknown—temporarily hushing his oars.
“We are following the Whisper Waters north, and the Re-Legion is the fastest way there. I’m sorry we have intruded.”
“Who cares?” asked the hoarse voice from the shore. “Intruders are always sorry when they intrude, yet they continue to intrude!” Elfen and Freegirl heard the voice cough and sputter.
“What is your purpose!” asked Freegirl, desperately, as she sobbed. For to Freegirl, everything must have purpose. “What is that hideous moaning!” The child of Mount Gold was distraught, and Elfen tried to ease her.
“Continue traveling onward and you will find soon enough what that moaning is. As for me, I have the lung disease.”
The two aboard the Mona Fidelity heard the person walk slowly downstream and disappear.
Freegirl kept her head buried in her hands. All she could see was her Vision of the world being devastated by quakes and tidal waves, and people dying.
Oh why why why why why? What is happening? She could feel gentle Elfen, who was now sitting behind her, rubbing her neck and shoulders. No, she would not tell him what she knew. He was dealing with enough in this depraved tunnel.
The vessel floated unattended. “These people in here are sick. I have never known anyone to be sick.” Elfen was completely bewildered at the meeting of the Re-Legion inhabitant.
His companion rolled her eyes in her head. She was exasperated, but remained quiet—except for her gasping breath.
“What are we going to do? We can’t leave them. They need help. They cannot harm us. We can’t turn back, there is no other route. What are we going to do?” It seemed Elfen was rambling from shock.
Freegirl was turning cross and sarcastic. “Oh, by all means and every means, let’s go save them. They are so happy to have us!”
Elfen pulled into his mind, returned to his seat, and with hands to the oars, began frantically rowing upstream.
Freegirl stared at him in a horrified daze. The wild man was actually heading into the moaning sounds, for truly, there was no other way. The trippers could not turn back and return to the entrance—not if she was committed to reaching the Lore Halls.
The girl from the mountain touched the golden bracelet on her left wrist, and closed her eyes. She thought she felt it become warm.
It did not take long for the travelers to arrive in the middle of the whining sounds that resonated throughout the Re-Legion. A colony filled with sick humans lingered on the beaches.
The tunnel, contrary to its inhabitants, displayed a design of Mother Nature in her glory. The walls, with its seemingly captured water, narrowed from its huge width, while the ceiling drew closer, looming over the heads of the boaters—as the great tunnel shrank into a cozy cave.
Two roomy beaches on either side of the river, made the distance between the walls about a hundred feet. Waterfalls of all volumes fell into the pool between the shorelines. This pool was one of the most perfect spots on the Whisper Waters, where entered the falls quietly. Veins of water seeping through the endless cracks in the walls and ceiling created skinny rivulets, meanders snaked across the beaches into the main channel—fluidity fingers, extending off the bigger falls.
Huts made of driftwood dotted both sides of the river, as they were placed around the falling streams of water.
A thought occurred to both observers. How could anyone be sick in this beautiful place?
Slim gaps, overhead, let in the afternoon sunlight, though no one could be seen sitting in the rays. Maybe the dwellers did not realize how beautiful their home was.
One by one, people began coming near Elfen’s Beast and pointing. Some sneered and spat in the boat’s direction. There was a vocal grumbling as the boat passed.
The Rower of the Rivers dropped the Mona Fidelity’s anchor near the shore, and stopping the boat, he watched quietly—for he refused to be afraid of his own kind.
Freegirl was dazed and numb, and almost unable to breathe.
A large man with crooked, round posture and puffy muscles, erupting skin, and a hateful frown, called to them. “Fools!” he hollered. “Why do you approach here?”
Elfen started to answer, but the overbearing man interrupted. “We do not necessitate you, or your breed! You cogitate yourselves so much more enhanced than us, we deprecate you!” And then the man hacked and spit.
The listeners on the boat stared with their mouths ajar. In all of Elfen’s many years of traveling the world and living through its endless dangers, he had never fathomed anything like this. And he was suddenly compelled to defend himself.
“We don’t know who you are, nor do we judge. We have never known of you until now; we are merely passing through.” The concerned captain’s voice resonated, the tone of a soft plea.
“That’s a falsehood!” The big man threw his arms into the air as if to emphasize, making a show of himself to the others who watched. He turned to his people and shouted, “Everyone has heard of the haunted and poisoned Re-Legion. They have been cautioned, and still they draw closer! To condemn us!” It was becoming apparent this hulk was their leader.
Elfen left his defense alone. The loud man was deranged and heard only what he wanted to hear. The Rower of the Rivers simply repeated he and his companion needed to travel through the tunnel, to make their journey shorter.
The leader looked at them suspiciously then asked, “Why did you plunge your anchor, if you are merely passing through?”
Freegirl came out of her daze long enough to glance at Elfen, for she too, had been wondering the same thing.
For one moment, Elfen felt ridiculous. “I... thought maybe... you needed help,” he answered kindly.
Freegirl’s stare blazed into him. What?
At this information, the big man on shore bellowed in laughter. Those who were watching him also began to laugh rudely, causing many of them to cough and choke.
Freegirl looked at the inhuman scene with disgust and pity. Who were these people!
Then finally, the girl on the boat spoke to the nearly invisible shadows of people watching. “Why are you here?” she asked kindly, doing her best to hold in her true feelings. “Where do you come from?”
For a moment, the man looked sad. Then returning to his hateful state he answered, “Because people like you drove us here!” And then he turned and walked away. The rest of the people disappeared into their huts leaving the travelers alone.
Freegirl whispered to Elfen, “Let’s get out of here while we have a chance!”
Elfen hesitated a moment. His curiosity of these humans had a claw in him, but, eventually the anchor was lifted, and the two rowers hurried on their way.
The journey remained dark and silent, except for the dim light of the torch, and the splashing of the water against the Beast.
It was early morning of the sixth day, and Elfen and Freegirl had oared the whole night, restless from the meeting of the sick people, and hurrying to get away from them. Neither had slept; neither wanted to sleep. Never had a week been so long.
After a few more numb moments, Elfen finally spoke. “I want to understand more about these people,” he said. He dropped the anchor to the Beast, for they were feeling safer now and needed to rest.
“I know you do,” answered Freegirl, without feeling. “I want to get to the Lore Halls.” She was fatigued, and in shock. Everything upon this journey strengthened the truth of her Vision. She was becoming more and more frightened, because she did not want to believe in the possibility of an apocalypse.
“I would guess we’re on our sixth day. That means, as much as I shudder to admit it, two weeks left. We are not traveling at the speed I originally thought.” The Rower of the Rivers had never been more serious in his life as he now was. “We will probably run into more sick people,” he finished.
“So... it’s going to be more than a week. Joys…” replied Freegirl, sadly.
“We must find out what is twisting these people, Freegirl. What in the Mother has interfered with a human’s power to heal? What would give them such angry, unwelcoming thoughts? We are Children of the Glimpse, for Magic’s sake! We have powers, awesome powers, and healing is the most basic! These people are sick! Sick in their minds, sick in their hearts, sick in their souls, and sick in their bodies! They are very unbalanced, and need our help!”
Freegirl listened, but the concept of unbalance was nothing new. The unhealthy scene was her Vision, of course, and the manifestation of the Inevitable Change—the substance of the foreboding she’d been having since she could remember.
Still, she could not bring herself to tell Elfen the true nature of her mission to the Lore Halls. So far, only Tyber had been told. Even her family never knew the meaning of her nightmare.
“What if these people do not want our help, Elfen?” she asked dully, playing her part in his conversation.
“We have a boat. We can take the sickest ones into the sunlight, where they can regain their healing powers. Surely, they are not happy here. How can we leave them this way?”
“What if they don’t want to go? Did those people back by the falls look as if they loved us dearly? Did they look as if they wanted to be rescued? For all we know they're happy being unhappy.”
Both of them glared at each other for the profoundness of her last statement, and then frowned at its implications. Happy being unhappy? Content in sadness? Comfort in misery? These concepts were contradictions. How could a person be content, where there was misery? How could there be happiness, in suffering and anger?
Or were they numb? How could a person in disease not want change? Was it because they did not know health was possible? How could they not perceive the possibilities of beauty and joy?
To be content, while in an angry state of self destruction, was a threat to human survival, and a dishonor to all that was sacred.
Elfen inhaled through his nose a great depth, sighed loudly and groaned, then shook his head. “They are confused, Freegirl, and completely unaware. In the darkness in which they live, they have become blind, and do not know what they want. If we could show them excellent health, they would never want to come back here again.”
Freegirl listened patiently. “That big man said people like us drove them here. They don’t like us and I don’t understand why.”
“It’s because they are sick and do not know what they are saying. Healthy people are full of love and understanding. We don’t judge others, we only help. They will see.”
Elfen was determined to lend a hand, so Freegirl stopped debating with him. Soon they fell asleep.
The teen-ager slept heavily, and had a horrible dream. In all her years of having painful catastrophic dreams of people dying and the planet destroying, she had never had one like this. Corpses, stiff decrepit ones, warm puffy ones, bloated discolored ones, disfigured humans in death were being eaten. Eaten raw, eaten roasted, and eaten ravenously, as chunks were sliced from their bodies. Humans were shattered to be the food of others. When the dream turned to the direction of the savages that devoured, Freegirl screamed at the sight of humans feasting upon humans.
Waking horrified and gasping for air, the child crawled out of her sleeping bag, lit a small torch in the blackness, lifted the boat’s anchor, stumbled and scrambled into the oarseat and started rowing. Elfen continued to sleep.
What she dreamed had never entered her mind in the past, and she feared the discord of the tunnel, and the people hiding in it were playing games with her head. She had never experienced so much fear in her life, as she was feeling in the Re-Legion, and in that heinous dream.
One time, long ago, while being chased by a mountain lion for less than a few moments, the runner, Freegirl, had known total Fear. But it had been a different kind of fear. Being chased by a dangerous Predator was an honor, a challenge to her personal power, and something to which she gave thanks—for her ability to outsmart the hunter.
And then it was done. She had hidden behind a tree, and when the animal got near to her, she thumped it in the head with a flying rock. Her aim had been precise, quick, and agile; the mouse was too smart for the cat. So the indignant cat shook its head and pretended to see something better to chase, then exited.
Sometimes, she dreamed while sleeping, she was again being chased, but she always succeeded in remaining untouched.
The fear she had of the Re-Legion was foreign, for she feared her own kind. She feared people, as if they were basic Predators.
And although the fear was great and the adrenalin was a constant surge, it was not an honor. She was trapped in an unnatural setting with nowhere to run. She rowed harder, and faster to overcome the anxiety in her stomach, and barely saw the people standing on shore, watching the boat pass.
When she finally heard the coughing and choking and sniffling, she rowed still more ferociously to get passed them, for she could not stop herself.
Soon Elfen sensed the motion and awakened from his slumber. He saw Freegirl pushing against the oars with blazing determination. In the dim torchlight, he could see the people watching from the shadows.
“Stop!” he cried to Freegirl. “I want to talk to them!”
But the girl rowed harder.
Then Elfen grabbed the oars. “Freegirl,” he pleaded. “Let me talk to them. Maybe I can learn what is happening here.”
In great frustration, she surrendered her weapons, as the oars had become, and went below to the cabin. Scrunching her face for the tears at the unbelievable experience she was having, she allowed the pain to unleash itself from her belly, pound against her chest, purge into her throat, burst water through her face, and flood her nose and eyes. Crying, crying, crying, and crying.
Elfen on deck stopped the craft. The people who lined the shore immediately ran to hide. “Wait!” he called. “I want to talk to you!” He stood staring into the darkness, holding the torch high. “Is there anyone who would share your story?” He waited patiently, while Freegirl listening below hoped he would give up his goal. Bye and bye, as it became apparent no one wanted to talk, Elfen dropped his head in humble defeat and went back to the rowing left by Freegirl.
What is happening here? he thought. Who are these people?
Slowly he steered the Beast upstream, while his companion stayed below the deck, disgusted and petrified.
The next three days passed quietly, both travelers rowing, resting, and eating. That is what their lives had become. They stretched faithfully after each row session, and they had lanterns in the cabin for reading and writing and crafts, but they were hushed with their singing and playing music.
Freegirl settled her emotions once more, no longer lashing out at life wildly.
Elfen started considering the things she'd said about the Re-Legion people not wanting help. It was human nature to help others, and the man was perplexed at their rejection.
Maybe they really were happy being unhappy.
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