Episode 6: House of Wisdom

As he treaded the darkness, each passing step taken in his fearful self seemed to magnify that very same horrific attribute. It seemed as if the darkness was getting darker. His heart raced faster than how his footsteps could carry him. The echoes of the howling winds seized him, as they bore the breath of four dagger-teethed beasts he had no strength to fight. Darkness began to dance around him, as how a beast would play with its prey. Every step in agreement with that very same fear strengthened its grip on him. And how potent it was, almost driving his confused mind to a point of despising Aletheia and its wondrous, glorious mysteries that he had already begun to partake of. How heinously deceitful was that wretched darkness...


He carried on in that state but kept moving, his inner light refusing to concede the journey until it had met with a house that bore the same substance. The light of hope in the forgotten distance, once only etched in the traveller's fading memory had now begotten form in the far side of the narrow Way. The light that it released, sought the traveller and zealously retrieved his soul from the possessing darkness, carrying him closer and closer as would a mother. It bore him near until it overtook and vanquished the poison within and he had come to grasp and undertand the reality that the light was far greater than the darkness. He surrendered to that very same truth and came to rest.

He stood before a grand stately mansion that welcomed him. The brightness that the house exuded was far greater than what he had perceived from a distance. He still remembered that it was night time but standing before the house, he noticed that the house itself and all within its grand vicinity experienced such an eager blessedness of a perpetual day. He knew no wolf could draw near. He made his way up the grand portico and helped himself through the front door. He did not need to knock for the house had invited him in. The stateliness of the structure did not diminish its warmth. He knew he was at home.


He stepped into the main hall and beheld the beauty and grand design of its intricate furnishings, almost as if everything within the house was alive and alight. Surely none in all Aletheia could surpass the glories of the house but for the Palace of the King Himself. He surveyed the structure and its seven stately pillars that held the house high in grace and dignity. The seven pillars glowed with seven virtues, distinctively etched on their sacred form: purity, peaceableness, gentleness, submissiveness, full of mercy and good fruits, impatiality and sincerity. As he examined their grace and form, they seem to flood his eyes with light and understanding. He passed each of them with silent awe until he was received by an arched doorway, leading into the living space.

At once he was face to face with a figure of immense stature, of insufferable dignity and royalty. She was a being of light, intense and yet welcoming. Her countenance seemed to exude those seven very same virtues etched upon the grand pillars. He knew that those pillars were what she stood for, a mark of her sure service to the Aletheian royal house. His heart raced, this time with joy and all the fond memories of Aletheia. The brilliant smile on her face dismantled his initial disease at his lowly bearing and discourtesy. He knew she wouldn't condemn him. Yet though her being conveyed the presence and joy of family, there was a fearsomeness to her brilliance. He knew that she wasn't human.


"Welcome, my son." said Lady Sophia.


Stunned, the traveller raced amidst his multitude of questions and finally picked the most reasonable one. "You mean.. you're my mother?"


She laughed. "Yes, I am your mother, as well as to those that travel that path to the City of Truth." Her voice was as sweet as it was unrelenting.


The traveller was still brimming with questions but Lady Sophia urged him still and led him upstairs to rest. She furnished him with fresh garments; a white pleated top shirt and a pair of dark blue trousers. They were light and appropriately suited for his journey. She also furnished him with a jacket for such a moment that he should resume his westward journey. The fine and intricate quality of the garments made him share in his mother's stateliness and grand bearing. He took a hot bath and comitted his tired self to rest atop soft silken matresses.

Time passed by slowly, if it did at all. But at the House of Wisdom, there was no sense of time. Everything seemed to transcend into eternity, a realm beyond realms, and yet tangible to the average traveller. After he woke up from his restful sleep, he had no sense of bearing of how long it had lasted. Refreshed, he left his quarters in search of the lady of light. And he did it with such a purpose as he became so inwardly aware of something she should convey to him. That awareness turned into desire and that desire turned into hunger, and since there was no time, it could have happened all at once or forever... He came upon the corridor in the house and beheld many doors.. He took a peek through one of them and saw many more. His heart raced as he searched out for his host, admittedly his mother. Yet, he knew was in search of one whose race was other than his own, one whose race seemed rare even in Aletheia. The burning impression of her simple yet brilliant countenance had not yet diminished from his mind.

The house was much larger on the insde than how it appeared on the outside. Used to Aletheian mysteries, he applied himself diligently on his search. Guided by only his heart and inner vision, he came past one door into a place with many more. And when he treaded past that, he came to a place with many more, and yet still not a few beyond that. Yet his heart and inner light was quickened to seek her. Yet with each door came many more. And many different kinds too. There were big doors and small doors, and grand doors and simple doors. There were great bejewelled ones and ones made of gold and silver... There were also tall, high ones and large wide ones that nearly stretched across entire wall panels. Each door was unique, true to its own design and pleasantly crafted. Yet even the grandest ones yielded no person of light beyond it.

And finally, when his search for Lady Sophia had seemed fruitless enough door past door, he came to one that caught his attention. It was the least of all doors, made of simple dark oak wood. It had no beauty in it that it should attract a searching traveller to what lied beyond it. Yet it exuded no small amount of grace and dignity, that intangible quality that superceded its natural attractiveness or lack thereof . It called out to him and he drew near. He tried to go in but it was too small. He had to bend lower, yet when he did, it seemed such that the door itself grew smaller and he had to bend lower still. And it beckoned to him to bow low and lower still until his face was upon the dust and he had to deny himself his very breath to crawl through the humble portway... when he finally got through, he knew it was another mystery for there was nothing in him that could get him through such an opening. Humble though it was, it revealed the end of his search, the heart of the House of Wisdom...

Lining rows upon rows of this giant concentric space were books in place of books. It filled the entire room, at least what was visible of it, for the books seemed to stretch into an infinite distance. At the centre of the hall was the Book of all Books. All else gathered around it, almost as if in reverent expectation... almost as if in humble submission... almost as if in... worship. It carried such a light that from where the traveller stood, it answered the mystery of the house's perpetual day. He approached the Sacred Book and beheld her who stood alongside it, born of the same light. Lady Sophia stood there, smiling...

"You need humility to get into this place" she said, getting straight to the point. He knew that everything was laid bare before her and that he didn't have to say anything. His search from door after door had yielded nothing and when he was at the end of himself, then the least of doors appeared before him. And even then, he had to bring himself to the uttermost of submission that he may enter that very sacred space. His thoughts then returned to the Book of Books, curious as he was to catch a glimpse of its sacred pages.

"One day you will read this.. and even some of the other books contained herein" continued Lady Sophia... "but for now..." She opened the book and its brilliant rays begot a sharp two-edged sword. She brandished it from within the illuminated pages and respectfully handed it over to the traveller. As he surveyed it, he became aware of its exquisite craftsmanship. He beheld his own eyes through the lighted blade and saw that the same glow that permeated the pages of the Sacred Book emanated from the ardent metal. He gazed at the golden hilt and crafted upon it was the graven figure of a lion on one end and a lamb on the other, one as fearsome as the other was determined. At the centre of the hilt was a most unusual crest bearing a lion, an ox, the face of a man and an eagle. They were positioned around a cross and set upon purple, red, white and blue gemstones. Inwardly, the traveller was aware that the sword bore the crest of the royal house of Aletheia, to whom Lady Sophia was also in service.

She smiled at him and gazed at him lovingly through her piercing eyes. "My son, this is Rhema. It shall serve you well for your journey. Treasure it well."

The traveller was undone for what maner of princely stature could only the sword convey upon its bearer? Beyond that, the honour was even more augmented by stateliness of the one who handed him the very same, the lady of light. As the bearer of such a fine instrument, he, too, shared in its intricate qualities. It was happening all too quickly, all his experiences at the House of Wisdom; Lady Sophia, the library and the sacred book, Rhema... like doors beyond doors were enigmas after enigmas. It was almost like a dream but it all seemed more real than reality, whatever reality even was... and before he could ask another question, or even choose which to ask next, Lady Sophia raced ahead of him.

"My son, you must carry on with your journey. There will be a time for you to know more but not now... You are called to move till you reach the city of rest.. like my other children, you are called to a journey and to finish it." "Many seek to move you from it but stay steadfast on the Way. Always remember to walk in humility and if you should hear my voice, heed it!" she said with both kindness and severity. "And if all else fails and you should come to the end of yourself, remember to call upon the Name of the King, wherever you are, in any circumstance. This too, is high wisdom."

The sojourner was at a loss for words. Yet in a place of submission, he had come to surrender his questions and just live on the reality of the present truth.

And with a deep voice that resonated into eternity, she charged him, "Overcome!"

At once he was at the grand hallway, before the seven pillars, ready and fully equipped with Rhema sheathed by his side. He stood before the pillars of wisdom, almost as if they comissioned him to carry their very same virtue wherever the way would take him. Yet his eyes fell one last time at his mother. Surely she had seen many embark on this journey, as proud as she was of them passing the test of humility and as she beheld the traveller, she was sure that no wolf could extinguish his hope. Yet, she knew that despite her work at the house of wisdom, a greater commissioning would await those who do eventually reach the City of Truth and behold the King. She had seen the army that the King was raising up and with one last embrace, she looked at the traveller in the eye and gave a dignified whisper. "The King awaits."

Episode 5: Pools of Contemplation

As he journeyed on, he came past lush green meadows and verdant hills. Having stood atop the last of them, he saw in the far distance a pearl-white house that exuded a brilliant glow even in the midst of sunshine. It beckoned to him. He thought about his journey since he left Sunflower Valley and how he had danced with the sun and sung with the stars. He had been living off bread and Aletheian silver berries that occassionally grew by the brook. As the house called out to him, it bade him rest and company, a welcome change for the price of traversing the Way to the City of Truth.

Past the last hill, he came to a field with pools of water that displayed a glimmering tinge of orange-pink under the setting sun and restful sunset clouds. The scene looked like manifold puddles covered with copious dewdrops, though it was obvious that it had not rained at all. They were a natural feature of the majestic Aletheian landscape, their stately presence bearing a tale of the One who goverened them. In their midst was a large bright lake. Though the waters were still, they were not stale. They conveyed the same freshness as the brook, perhaps indicating that the lake served as a summer inlet for the living stream. The beauty of the pools caused the traveller's heart to observe a sacred silence. He drew a breath, contemplating yet another grand sight. He decided to camp by the pools since it was getting late. The stillness of the waters urged him to partake of that same rest. The visit to the pearl-white house could wait.

Stopping at a pool near the lake, he laid down his haversack. Sitting at the edge of the waters, he gazed deep into the pool. As the wind blew upon the surface of the water, they seemed to change colour and glow, almost as if they danced with the wind. They, too told a story. While the restful sensation came over him, he became aware of the message of the pool. He drew his eyes closer towards the golden-blue waters and observed the silent ripples made by the cool evening breeze. As he sat there with his heart open, he suddenly became aware of a boy within the waters. It was not as if the boy was actually inside the pool but rather, the careful silent glow of the pool revealed the boy's figure, almost like a moving painting, upon the silver surface of the water. He felt a certain sense of affinity with the young lad, as if he had known him somewhere before. The deeper he rested, the deeper he saw. The deeper he saw, the more vivid the child became. The picture seemed to move as one with his heartbeat. As the excitement of this new mystery unfolded before him, his heart paced faster towards clearer strokes of the boy's motion. As both of them ran together, the crescendo of the silent waves told a story.

He saw the boy riding a most interesting contraption. It was a machine with two great wheels that characterised it's unique frame and feature. Both the wheels were of very unusual form; the middle was formed by a scorefold or so company of silver arrow-shafts linked onto a semi-malleable black outer rim. As if this wasn't enough of an enigma, both wheels were joined together by what seemed to be an unusual variant of dark iron fetters. He looked at the boy more intently and saw the delight upon him, as the wind met his fragile face as he sped through roads by means of his contraption. Before the traveller could ponder how unusual the road surface was, his attention was diverted to the unusual ecstasy of his experience gazing at the figure in the pool. Part of him wanted to remain gazing at the scene lest it should vanish, while another wanted to peer through the other surrounding pools to see if they should likewise yield a similar experience. His curiosity got the better of him and he walked over to gaze through another pool.

He came to one shimmering in sunset and lilac... and he stilled himself to behold. His eyes met expectedly with the same boy. But the boy was not riding his contraption anymore. This time, he was in an awkwardly, almost ridiculous, greenish outfit... and with a number of other like-apparelled boys and girls his age. They were all looking to him expectantly, as if he was about to do something majestic with another unusual contraption. As the traveller beheld it, it begot the form of an unusually curved golden pipe, with inconsistent diametrical bearings and a number of golden buttons of various sizes along its surface. It seemed to have some kind of a labial function and-

"Aaaarrrrrgghhhhhh!!!!!" the traveller cried as a wolf sank its teeth into his arm. His scream shattered the evening silence.

He spun around, caught unaware by his antagonist. He attempted to regain his bearing after the sharp, stinging pain had overtaken his poolside reverie. The wolf, having released its grip, marched a few steps backwards, maintaining its steady gaze upon the traveller's agitated eyes. By now, it was dark and the silver moonlight leapt off the edges of the wolf's spear-shaped fangs. It surveyed the traveller, having stalked him for days, awaiting an opportune time for yet another confrontation.

The traveller receognised it from his rescue trip with Farmer Mandy. By now, its slingshot wound had festered. The wolf, having brooded over the wound and dwelt on its sweltering pain was now ready to repay him. He noted that his rod was with his belongings by the other pool and he knew that before he could make a run for the weapon, chances are he would have been arrested by the creature. The stillness of the night was being pierced by a very deafening silence- each party eagerly anticipating the other. Suddenly, the wolf lunged at him. It had narrowly been almost successful but now the traveller dashed his way to retrieve the cudgel. The wolf cunningly retreated into the evening shadows.

The travller surveyed the scene, sure that the wolf had not yet left. Sure enough, he was met by another pounce, which he narrowly dodged. He took his stick and attempted to fend it off. Though he managed to strike a few blows, the wolf remained resolute despite its festering sores. It still had strength nonetheless. Meanwhile the traveller grew weary with every swing of the cane, the sting upon his right arm greatly weakening his ability to wield the weapon. He spun the stick southwards but the wolf dodged it. The wolf then came upon him in awesome force, even more than what the wolf had intended. Instantly, its fangs nearly met with the traveller's face, if not for the fact that the sheer force of the lunge attack sent the both of them plunging into the deep centre lake, descending into the darkness of the night.

The traveller was exhausted, his foe momentarily... elsewhere. The water soon overtook him and entered his system. It all happened so fast in the darkness. He struggled to maintain his buoyancy, and even more so, his senses, but it seemed that the more he struggled, the deeper he sank, until he was overtaken by a greater black than the moonlit night... his eyes, tightly shut.

He found himself in a world between worlds, where reality and reverie seemed to meld together. As he progressed within that world, his eyes shot open and revealed a realm which was not Aletheia. It all seemed familiar to him, and yet strange at the same time. He knew it was real but it seemed that Aletheia more real than where he was. In it, he was in a bed with white linen... He was in white linen.. There were flowers by the side and he heard a distict pulsating sound.. though he did not know where it was coming from.. within the scene was scattering of unusual mechanisms not found in Aletheia. At the opposite end of the room, he could make out six figures. Five of them seemed very familiar to him... almost as if he had known them all his life. The sixth was a tall and lanky figure, almost as enigmatic as that entire scene. And though he didn't seem to fit, he seemed to have known him too somehow... from somewhere in his younger days... As his consciousness stirred in the linen bed, the six became aware of his movements. Very soon, there was a light but distinctively positive commotion. Two more people came into the scene and made their way towards him. As they approached, his eyes started becoming heavy. He barely noticed that they were two ladies, dressed in white, crowned with what seemed like white diadems of fabric upon their heads. He did not see their faces for he felt an unusual rest coming upon him, coupled with the familiar scent of lilies carried by the cool evening breeze. His eyes met with a deep sensation of slumber. Aletheia called back to him. Very soon, he was at the world between worlds, the white linen bed almost like a forgotten imprint etched in the darkness, a faint echo from a distant tune...

His head re-emerged from the surface of the lake, as if by an invisible hand. His frame had been drawn upwards and kept afloat until he had, as presently, laid hold of the edge of the embankment and pulled his well-marinated body onto dry ground. He then remembered the earlier brawl. His opponent nowhere in sight, he made haste for his haversack and pushed his exhausted self once again upon the path, towards the pearl-white house. It was still dark and the knowledge that wolves travelled in packs propelled him forward. Though his adversary seemed to have been momentarily dealt with, he knew the others were close by. He picked up his steps and rushed towards the safety of the house.

Though he found temporary relief, he was still uneasy. He was tense yet his mind found the means to wander and contemplate the scenes which he saw... the boy and his unusual contraptions... the white linen bed... He seemed to have a language for what he saw but he could not access it. It seemed part of another, different lexica of another, different world. It was then that he suddenly recalled the dream that he had previously at Sunflower Valley. It likewise placed him at the heart of that very same mystery.

There was more to the land than he thought.

Episode 4: Learning to Listen

Back at Sunflower Valley, everyone was exhausted. Pigdor and Sheepvin retired to their yard. At the farmhouse, Mandy lit a candle. She then proceeded to carry a basin of Aletheian water and washed the traveller's wounded hand. It produced such a cool sensation, easing the traveller's forgotten pain. Mandy then headed for the topmost cabinet on her kitchen shelf and reached for a small bottle. She brought it out and opened the vial before him. Immediately, the room was flooded with an awesome fragrance of fond memories and sunshine. The scent settled into a waft of myrrh, aloes and cassia. It was easy to lose oneself amidst that fragrance.. almost as if it brought you to a different place and time. Before the traveller could react to yet another wonderful enigma, Mandy poured a few drops of its golden living liquid upon his wounds and immediately they were restored; his skin became like that of a young child, without blemish.

"This is the Balm of Gilead, made by the King himself. It carries His tears and His joy... the very essence of who He is. And anything that this oil touches will be restored full because it carries the sureness of the King's desires and goodness within it." explained Mandy

The traveller now noticed that the King of Aletheia was always at the centre of every wonderful mystery. He pondered to himself what the King might then have in store for him. He wondered again what He was like. His eyes returned to the exquisite bottle.

"There is none like it in all of Aletheia. Many who have heard about the balm and its transcendent properties would come to Aletheia to seek it but they would not go to the King or seek Him because they are afraid of Him... and their search for the balm would be in vain... and many return fruitless."

"Why should anyone be afraid of the King?" the traveller asked puzzled. Until then, he had not heard anyone mention such a thing of Him.


"Because He shows you who you truly are" said Mandy. "And many are afraid because their lives are full of darkness. They cannot stand in the Palace of Light. Their hearts that have waxen fat and greedy covet to make a good profit of the balm. But it is so precious that no one can put a price on it. The King only gives it to His trusted servants... and to those whose hearts are pure when they search for it."

The traveller examined himself, wondering if he had any cause to be afraid.

Sensing his thoughts, Mandy assured him, "Do not worry. He calls to you and you must meet Him."

"You must be one of the king's trusted servants.." began the traveller. "... for Him to trust you with such a priceless treasure."

Knowing where he was going, Mandy straightened up and smiled. "I have not forgotten my promise. I will tell you my story."

The traveller inclined his ears and drew nearer.

"I spent many years growing up in the palace" she began. "I spent my days in the King's court serving Him together with the rest of the maidens and courtiers. We were all very close. I also used to train under the New Wine Warrior's Guild within the palace grounds. I really enjoyed it there... the King's delightful presence, His company as well as the fellowship of all our friends..."

The traveller swallowed his saliva and drew closer.


"Then one day, we were preparing to celebrate the Festival of the Spring Rains. There was a rumour in the palace that some of us in the New Wine Warrior's Guild would get promoted and get commissioned with assignments from the King. We were very excited as each of us looked forward to serving the King in a new way. Perhaps He was going to send me to a faraway land, at the head of caravans laden with gold and fragrant spices. Or perhaps He would have had me on board one of his cedar galleons, bearing the Aletheian crest upon realms across the sea. I didn't know what I was in for. I approached the day with much anticipation, yet also much ignorance..."

"The Festival day came and we were summoned into court. Sure enough, the King had promotions and assignments for us but it wasn't like what we had expected. Honestly, i didn't expect mine to be so... ordinary. When it was my turn, the King commissioned me to take care of some animals here at Sunflower Valley and to care for passing travellers and guide them in their quest for the City of Truth."

"I guess it was difficult for you to move out here in the countryside after having been so used to life in the palace" added the traveller.

"I loved the King and i had pledged not just my allegiance to Him... but also my life in service. I didn't even think twice about whether to accept that commission" said Mandy with fervent resolution. "But I have been here many years and life here is not a dance in the breeze. I often get very lonely with only the animals as my companions. Through it all, i learned to love them. Yet, I long to see the King again in His palace. I also long to fellowship with my friends there again. And when travellers do come, they stay only a short while... and though i know Him who I serve, there is a part of me that longs to see even the end of their journey.. what is eventually made of them. Sometimes, i wonder whether they actually reach the City of Truth or whether they wander off or become eventual prey to the wolves and lords of Carnalin..." She gazed out the window into the darkness of the evening sky, far beyond the nearby mountain range.

Tears were welling up her eyes. The traveller perceived her weariness, even amidst her strong disposition. And it was all new to him to see Mandy become so... human.

"I've been tempted to leave this place, even seek the King to send me to another outpost. Yet, I remember His face and recall His charge to me on that very day I recieved my commission. He said it with such love, such trust and such belief in me and in the task at hand. And I knew then from His heart of hearts it was a task of great importance. His voice still resonates within, even as fresh as it does now and its strength beckons to me, imbuing me with the same virtue. As I toiled in the fields, there would be times when i would feel the sun's heat beating down upon my back, I would look up, fully expecting a harsh countenance... But instead, i would see His smile beaming upon me and i know that He is with me through it all. I know my purpose full well. I know that His love carries me through and each day, and i would take a moment to hear Him and speak with Him. Though He may seem far, He and I are separated by no distance."

The glow on her face silenced the dim candle light.

"I and the King are one."

The deep gaze of her fiery eyes can be met with no response. The traveller felt so dim upon the profound greatness of such an utterance. It seems to him that the more he sought for answers, the greater the mysteries became. He reasoned to himself that he would ask no more for it was beyond what he could bear. At least perhaps until some rest coupled with fresh Aletheian dew would permit him greater understanding. He gave a polite smile, excused himself and retired for the night. Yet silently as he laid on his bed by the window, gazing at the tapestry of silver stars dancing upon the depths of the clear Aletheian sky, he could not help but ponder her story. A gentle breeze whispered into his bedroom. He knew that there was more to be said between the both of them.

The next morning, Mandy received him with freshly baked bread and wild silver berries, native only to Aletheia. "Eat your fill" she smiled. "Today you must resume your journey."

It was all too fast for the traveller. Certainly each day had enough mysteries of its own and he was just getting more acquainted with Farmer Mandy and the other characters at Sunflower Valley. Farmer Mandy brought him outside where Sheepvin greeted him.

"Good morning!" he cheered as he grinned sheepishly from ear to ear. Though he belonged to a generation of time past, he was certainly not boring. If he were indeed that old, he sure did not behave it. There was something light and contagious about his presence. There was something that made his company so... addictive.

"I want you to teach him" said Mandy.

Sheepvin replied with a wink, which by the way was hardly perceptible, considering how fine his eyes were. In full confidence, Mandy retreated back to the house. Apparently, Pigdor took some extra time to sleep that morning so she wasn't present with the company. Sheepvin addressed the traveller. "In your journey, one of the things that is of the foremost importance is for you to see and hear clearly. You need to perceive and to listen, not just with your eyes and ears but also your heart."

The traveller replied confidently "But I do see and I do hear. And if i do need any help, I'd just drink some water." His smugness was evident and though he valued Sheepvin's delightful company, the idea of an old talking sheep training him did not really sit well with him.

This, Sheepvin knew very well. So he looked to a point in the far distance. "Now what do you see?"

The traveller looked at the same direction and saw nothing.

Sheepvin smiled. The traveller drank some water from the nearby brook and looked. Still he saw nothing.

Sheepvin's smile grew to a smirk. "There you go young lad. Lesson 1... the water will only work if your heart is right. Now lose some of that attitude young man and concentrate."

The traveller was embarrassed. Having stood corrected, he paused for a while to acknowledge his moment of folly, determined to transcend it. He remembered Sheepvin's steadfast character and Pigdor's valiance during the battle the day before amidst the woven quilt of other intricate mysteries he had encountered thus far and stood humbled.

"Now drrriinnkkk" instructed Sheepvin, not different from the way Mandy would have said it. He drank and gazed towards the point where Sheepvin found his bearing. As the inconspicuous fog cleared from his eyes, he became aware of a tall mountain in the distance. He squinted his eyes to examine if he was actually seeing things. As he looked again, he became so acquainted with the mountain's prominence so much so that he could hardly believe that anyone could miss it, let alone him!

Sheepvin was taking in the moment with silent amusement.

"What is that?"

"That is Watchman's Peak" said Sheepvin. "It lies on the border of Aletheia and Carnalin."

Though far, the mountain exuded its presence. Sheepvin moved on and the traveller followed. Taking one last glance at the mountain, his eyes caught a sight of a bird scaling the horizon in the far distance. As he proceeded, however, his mind still dwelt on the fact that Sheepvin's almond eyes could see so far! And that plus the fact that he was old... it was certainly a puzzle to the young traveller, yet another mystery...

They came to the brook beside the Way. Sheepvin knelt by the waters and instructed the traveller to do the same. "Do you hear it?... The song of the stream..."

The traveller scooped up some water and drank. He listened quietly and then he heard the still small voice.

"Heed it" said the sheep. "Everything in Aletheia speaks and everything will point you to the King... Even more so the river. The source of the river is His throne itself, right within the Palace of Light. If you listen, the King can speak directly to you and the river will carry His voice through the waters. Everything speaks and you must always listen, but do not follow any voice that would lead you from the Way."

The traveller remained silent, listening to his words of wisdom. He was also becoming more aware of the song of the stream and in his heart, the stream seemed to beckon towards the farmhouse... its song reaching towards Mandy. Sheepvin knew this and followed the flow. Both of them gazed back at the farmhouse where they could see Mandy's silhouette seated by the window. "What do you see?" asked Sheepvin.

The traveller's eyes shot straight at Mandy and in that eternal instant, he became aware of her hidden life and the things she treasured in her heart. And then those beautiful yet sad eyes became clear to him. "You weren't the only one, were you?" he asked the sheep.

Seeing the same thing, he explained. "Yes, Mandy's heart is torn. There were many sheep that were taken by the wolves and there were not many that Mandy got back."

The traveller continued, "Yes but it wasn't her fault. Many of the other sheep chose to leave for Carnalin. And there was nothing she could do to win them back. Now her heart weeps for them."

"You are not wrong, young lad." said Sheepvin with an unusual sombre air. "There were fowl winds from Carnalin that enticed them and deceived them... winds that promised a more exciting, adventurous, sensual life. Sadly, many loved Carnalin more than Aletheia... more than the King."

A teardrop flowed from the traveller's cheeks and became one with the river.

"Go on" said the sheep, knowing the river moved him. "You have a message for her."

He stooped down and he drank and he drank and he drank until all his belly was full of the water, the very same water that carried the words of the King. And a boldness came over him, not like his earlier display of vain confidence. He felt that he was alive, as if the life and the words of the King Himself were flowing through him, and now the song of the river itself was bubbling from deep within his belly. And then he knew the words of life searched for an outlet. Ready, he walked into the farmhouse, Sheepvin observing closely behind. Mandy's smile greeted him.

Then it flowed. "Though the sorrow may last for the night but My joy comes with the morning. Don't despise yourself. Don't despise the day of small beginnings. Though you may not see the work of your hands in full bloom, yet your labour has not been in vain. One day, you shall yet see the Valiant Ones. Be strong, noble one. I have seen your deeds and have not forgotten you and great shall be your reward."

"Thank you for being faithful with the work to which I have called you. Though it may be simple, you have come to know that there is glory in small and simple things... if you are willing to listen and honour them. Do not let your soul be wearied by the foul songs of the filthy winds that mock you in the night. Do not grieve and condemn yourself for that which was lost for I am Sovereign and I can work despite and even through their disobedience that they may again be found in the City of Truth."

"Yes, Master" she replied and bowed in silence, submitting herself to what was spoken. By the time the traveller was done, there were tears streaming down her cheeks. He knew those words from the river brought not mere relief but healing. They were not his words but that of the King Himself, for the traveller knew that he possessed neither such eloquence nor authority nor understanding. By now, he was learning to flow with the intricacies of the land. It was not like as if he was traversing through it as much as it seemed to be dancing with him.

Mandy straightened herself and smiled. This time, the glow of her countenance was far greater than before. Her eyes exuded a light from deep within and deep within, she knew she had rest. She looked at the traveller straight in the eyes. "Thank you. Your time here is complete."

The Sojourner resounded the same in his heart. Time passed by very quickly and he had really enjoyed himself at Sunflower Valley, getting acquainted with its residents and the manifold mysteries of the land. A part of him wanted to stay but the unfolding of the day and of his own mystery beckoned to him. "The King awaits" he whispered to himself.

It was midday. By now, Pigdor was somewhat awake and she had joined the rest in preparing the traveller to set off again. Mandy equipped him with a wooden rod that would prove useful. She also packed him a haversack laden with some bread and biscuits that would supply him for a while. He also kept with him the slingshot Mandy gave him earlier just in case he should encounter the wolves again. They then said their goodbyes even as the traveller encouraged Mandy one final time to continue being faithful in keeping charge of her fold. Having said goodbye to the other animals in the farm, he started on the westward way again. He was overtaken by their final well-wishes:

"Never depart from the Way!" reminded Mandy.

"Take care, lad!" said Sheepvin

"Next time you drop by, bring along some cheese!" hollered Pigdor.

He turned and bade them a final wave. Then he saw the weathered house, rugged yet strong and stable... and he finally understood its message; the story of the life of her who dwelt within, leaning on unseen pillars of faith upon the One who called her. He traversed past by the sunflower meadows which greeted him. Their faces fixed upon the sun, they, like him awaited an unveiling of a new mystery. The light that they exuded from within, which even casted a shadow on the other side of the surrounding mountains told of one whose hope and gaze was in the King... who knew how to see and listen, who were bearers of that same light and virtue and who knew how to stand strong against formidable giants. Though the flowers were small, they were not defeated. Such was the glory of small things. And such was the mystery of Sunflower Valley.

The traveller looked above, the sun travelling westwards towards the same city. It ran with him, even as the King called him ever-onwards on his journey.

Episode 3: Farmer's Interlude

Mandy drew herself erect, well acquainted with her unlikely comrade's unique warning system. She shuffled her feet with such grace and agility almost as if it was a dance.. a warrior's dance. The traveller kept his keen eyes on Mandy, attempting to decipher the mystery of her person. It was obvious that she had gone on several such expeditions before. Drawing closer to their targets, Mandy's breath paced itself with steady control, unmoved by the uncertainty of the impending comfrontation.

Picking their pace, the trio brushed past a cluster of Acacias, disguised in robes of ferns and ivys. Instantly, Mandy flung her rod and thrusted it into a shrub. Her keen senses and reflexes sent a wolf howling... and bleeding. The traveller attempted to follow the scuffle that ensued but his lack of experience was evident.

The pack of five, upon seeing their comrade wounded shifted swiftly to surround the trio... their amber eyes lit... their silver teeth grit. Mandy's eyes, and perceivably her heart, were fixed upon her stolen charge, flanked by two of the beasts. The Sojourner stared into his eyes and saw a distinct confidence even within the churning moment. He addressed the beasts and attempted to reason, "We'll be on our way once you give him back to us."

All he heard were growls in reply. And he understood that no Aletheian water would have been sufficient.

"There shall be no compromise with the enemy" instructed Pigdor. "You cannot reason with them. You must fight them." The traveller glanced at both Pigdor and Mandy with the swiftness that the intensity of the moment would permit him. He noticed Mandy's concurrence with Pigdor written on her steady gaze. She meant to maintain her offensive.

The next moment, she was above three of the wolves, descending with awesome force. The other two, perceiving the inexperience of the lad, pounced on him. One bit his hand but was knocked over when Pigdor gave him such an awesome force of a headbutt. She repeated her charge upon the other who, for a moment remained silent with his claws upon the traveller's face. But Pigdor gave such a terrific outcry that for a moment, the wolf actually doubted the fact that she was indeed a pig. This was enough for Mandy to pass him with a good blow between the ears after which Pigdor eventually sent him flying. Mandy resumed to take on the other three. Pigdor secured the hostage while the traveller recovered. Fumbling with his slingshot, he attempted to aid Mandy who obviously needed none. His shots narrowly missed her elbow.

"Drrriiinnnkk!" cried Mandy.

Remembering the flask, he drank. His eyes were sharpened. Clarity returned to his senses as he replaced his wounded hand upon the slingshot, quick enough to injure the other two returning wolves and sending them to flight. Having returned their favour, he proceeded to help Mandy once again, only to see the other three in retreat, having received a good, sufficient beating. Pigdor was a few metres beyond the next undergrowth, safe with the sheep, and the traveller proceeded to join them.

He turned around towards Farmer Mandy. She observed a moment on her knees, with her rod laid down in front of her, while uttering something towards the King of Aletheia- a gesture the Sojourner did not understand. She then got up and joined the rest.

"I tried to run away..." explained the sheep "but it seems that I'm getting old..."

"I'm just glad that you're back with us now" replied Mandy. Her voice carried such care and warmth amidst her steadfast gaze. It was obvious that she truly loved her animals and knew each one well. She was genuinely relieved, but her fresh bruises brought her eyes again to a distant time. "It's getting late" she smiled. The four of them headed back to the farm.

On the way back, the traveller was formally introduced to Sheepvin, the sheep. The four of them laughed together as the wise elder one recounted stories of when he was still in his prime and how his wool-style had changed over the years to keep up with the trends in Aletheia. What amused the traveller the most was the story of Sheepvin attempting to sneak up behind a comrade during a trip to the village market to pull a surprise. Having lost himself in the moment, he had failed to discern the intricate subtleties enabling one to distinguish one sheep from another, and in so doing, he ended up giving another old sheep a nasty shock.

The traveller was entertained by Sheepvin's lighthearted antics but was even more impressed with his capacity to simply stride on without much thought to his just-ended ordeal. Amidst that light-heartedness stood a strong resilient heart, bruised by neither circumstance nor affliction; one whose confidence was beyond himself. Such a bold bearing to move forward was beyond many men, as was Pigdor's display of courage. The traveller acknowledged within himself that he was in the presence of greatness, bundled in small packages.

The traveller pondered all this and enjoyed the delightful company. However, Mandy's mystery was still fresh in his mind... She was unlike any farmer. The strength of her character was almost as if she was also a warrior general. And then there were those distant eyes... He wondered if she would remember to tell him her story. To him, she certainly had a hidden life... yet its strength certainly exudes from within her heart, even such that her charges were bearers of the same attributes. And his flow directed his thoughts to himself. Why should the King have chosen one such as Mandy to get him started on his journey? What, then, should that journey be?

Episode 2: Pigdor's Tale

"Ohmyword!" a distinguished alarm rose early in the farmhouse. The traveller stirred from his bed, attempting to make some sense of bearing. He had somewhat perceived Farmer Mandy's voice ring out but trailing off in the distance. But in that state of being half poised to return to slumber, his thoughts were still on the vague flashes of images that he seemed to have dreamt the night before. He recalled being elsewhere, on a bed full of white linen. And there were flashes of some flowers too, metal bars and he recalled a distinct pulsating sound. He would have dismissed them as another one of the mysteries of the land but there was a feeling that was just so... real. It was, however, just as elusive and he decided to give it no further thought. After all, his mind was already occupied with his enigmatic journey to the City of Truth.

He caught a most delightful scent of roasted fruit and dough, carried by the energising presence of the cool Alethiam air that catapulted him to a state of alertness. His stomach was suddenly aware of its need and desire for nourishment. He hastily groomed himself before leaving his quarters. In the kitchen, the kind familiar face smiled, expecting him. "Good morning!"

"Good morning!" he replied back but being the lad he was, his eyes were transfixed upon the piping-hot pie that was at the centre of the table. And then those words- "Help yourself!"

All he could do was smile at Farmer Mandy and sit in gratitude upon her generous hospitality. His eagerness to devour the pastry and the satisfaction which followed were enough to convey not just his word of thanks but the highest complements that was ever due a skilled artist. Attempting to make some conversation, he asked "Where did you learn how to cook?"

"Learned it from my mother." she smiled back. He noticed that whenever Farmer Mandy spoke, her words were almost sang out, as if they proceeded from her heart with a pre-ordained tune. It was as if her person complemented the beauty and mystery of the land.

"I heard a cry ring out earlier. Is there anything wrong?" the traveller asked. He perceived the enigma of her countenance- her bright yet sad eyes framed by a weather-beaten face.

She wasted no time in explaining. "One of my sheep has been taken." She said with a sudden seriousness. Now the traveller shared in her alarm but before he could choose which question to ask next, she continued. "The wolves have taken him. They are not from Aletheia. They come from the land of Carnalin just beyond the range of mountains."

"Carnalin?"

"It is a dark land, ruled by cruel dark lords, enemies of the Palace of Light. The wolves of Carnalin steal into Aletheia in the cloak of the night and take from us."

By this time, the traveller had finished his meal and didn't know how to reply her. He wanted to offer her some consolation, a word of assurance or encouragement but he didn't know how to express it. Farmer Mandy, knowing her charge full well perceived this in the traveller and smiled, knowing his kind intentions. And the traveller smiled back, knowing his encouragement had been fully conveyed. He took a generous glass of clear Aletheian water. Amidst the sad revelation, he perceived in Mandy's countenance a dignified determination, a resolute and confident indignation and as their eyes met, the traveller shared in the same resolution as they became united in purpose. Without a word spoken, they knew in their hearts that they would get the lost sheep back.

"Follow me." Farmer Mandy beckoned. They went outside of the house to farmyard where the traveller surveyed the assortment of animals under Mandy's care. Then he noticed a most unusual sight. Farmer Mandy was talking to one of the animals. He recognised the snorts and it drew his attention to a most unusual pig. He recognised it as the one whom he heard in conversation with Farmer Mandy earlier in the morning!

He drew closer to examine the pig. It was small but it carried a tremendous presence. It held itself high on its trotters with such enigmatic yet graceful poise. It was unlike any other pig that the traveller ever saw. For one, it wasn't dirty at all! As Mandy and the pig noticed the traveller's curiosity, they met him. And as they walked together side by side, he perceived that they walked as if they knew each other well, almost as if they could be best friends! It was as if the pig shared in Mandy's graceful dignity. As they met, the traveller stooped down to inspect the pig better. It had such a very clean and healthy coat of skin that it almost seemed to give a pinkish glow-a most magnificent and most majestic pig indeed! He looked at it face to face and paused for an eternal moment.

"Curious young lad, isn't he?" said the pig.

The traveller jumped back and drew himself straight, obviously startled by the unusual phenomenon. Farmer Mandy and the pig giggled spontaneously and in such a like manner that they could almost be sisters.

"The Aletheian water must be taking its full effect" said Mandy. "I told you always keep drinking." The traveller understood though still reeling from the shock of the incident. It must have been the clear Aletheian water from the brook that cleared his senses. And now, he was able to listen, even understand the sound of the animals. "This is Pigdor. She is one of my closest companions. She will help us to track the wolves."

Pigdor snorted and smiled. She said in a surprisingly sweet voice, "Quick, there isn't much time to lose if we're going to catch them." She didn't give him time to recover from the shock. Mandy then instructed the Sojourner to bring a flsk of Aletheian water with him as she proceeded to equip him with a slingshot. Mandy herself weilded a rod. Its sturdiness, despite its apparent agedness conveyed the faithfulness of the equipment. They set off promptly and trekked through the nearby woods just beyond the valley, Pigdor leading the way.

During the journey, the Sojourner attempted to overcome his still confounded state and began a conversation with Pigdor. "I... i notice that you're very clean." he said awkwardly.

Pigdor smiled and related her story. "I was once from the land of Carnalin too. I dwelt among the swamps and muddy wastelands feeding on whatever scraps of food i can find. Somehow, there was something in me that felt like there was more to life than all that. Deep down, i was convinced that there was something far better. But i had gotten so used to it that i didn't want to venture anywhere else beyond the swamps. Until one night, a ball of light appeared outside my camp. It was so beautiful and unlike anything i had ever seen. It started moving and i followed it.. i had my eyes fixed on it all the time and before long, it led me into Aletheia... to the Palace of Lights."

"You've been there before?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes." Pigdor continued. "As I was outside the Palace, the door opened inwards and i was received by the King of Aletheia. He was expecting me. And He personally took me and cleaned me from all that miry clay that i was covered with. I've never felt so clean.. and so free! Ever since then, i developed such an innate disgust for mud that i never wanted to get myself near it again."

The Sojourner remained silent. He pondered all that Pigdor said and concealed his hidden amazement at Pigdor's newfound dignity and the grace that she spoke with. He pondered her awesome journey and imagined what she must have gone through, though it was obvious to him that Pigdor told him the shorter version of the story. And when she spoke of the King, her voice carried such a respect... and more than that, a sense of adoration and delight. He thought about the King of Aletheia, what He was like, how He might look like. And even concerning himself and his own mystery and personal journey. His mind trailed off in the distance but was brought back to the present reality when he heard Pigdor give three exquisite but violent sneezes.

Recovering from the last sneeze, she said with an air of seriousness, "The wolves are close by."