The sun broke smoothly over the horizon.
A lone boy, wise beyond his years, sat quietly atop a gentle hill.
The breeze swayed the grass and the leaves on the trees. He turned his face to the sky and smiled contentedly.
After a while, an aged man with skin like old, red leather limped slowly out of the woods. He favored a large walking stick wrapped in woven leather straps and tufts of fur. The man's robes were a soft brown, a stark contrast to his flowing white hair.
The young man turned his grateful smile on the older man as he approached.
The older man paused and took a deep breath before slowly lowering himself on to the ground.
"Tell me." The elder asked. "Did the visions come in the night?"
"Oh, yes." The younger man breathed excitedly. "Incredible things."
The elder surveyed the land. It was quiet and the spirits were at peace. He smiled. "When you are ready. From the beginning." He said at long last.
The boy ordered his thoughts.
"I saw a hand. It reached out of the heavens and offered itself to me. It became a rainbow, full of swirling patterns."
The old mans dark eyes sparkled with a fierce intelligence as he listened to the young boy speak.
"And I found myself flying, following the rainbow across the water and in to a dark place."
The old man nodded and the younger continued.
"I could hear horses in the darkness, they were running and whining. It was chaotic at first but then they began to run together and the noise became thunder. Then lightning began to flash, and in the flashes I saw a circle of people. Half the circle was in black and the other half in white. Then they turned towards me and bared the claws and fangs of animals as they attacked."
The old man seemed to hold his breath as he listened.
"I thought they would devour me. I began to panic. And then the lightning flashed again, but instead of being lightning it was a flash of electricity running through a circuit board in nice smooth lines and right angles. And as the thunder retreated the circuit stayed, all lit up. The animal people retreated from it and it slowly drifted back and away from me until it was small and square, the size of a key chain, like it would fit in my palm."
The older man swallowed.
"Then I heard a noise, like the grinding of steel against stone, and the noise seemed to be forging a chain, because, slowly a soft green chain formed, turning the circuit in to a charm on a necklace. And the necklace shot forward over my head and the circuit slipped in to my chest. Then, with a shot I was back here, sitting on the hill, but not awake. I could see my body as well."
The elder leaned in intently listening with every aspect of his being.
"And slowly, A great mushroom began to grow at my feet, and the ground began to drop away to reveal water and rock. The sea became rough and angry, but the mushroom rose anyway. Then, a beam struck out of the top, as though it were a lighthouse and the beam cut out through the darkness. I found myself shooting along the beam and it became a rainbow. And I knew it was the same rainbow that I had followed originally."
The young boy swallowed. "I don't recall anything else. I woke up here this morning."
The elder nodded. "A powerful vision. I shall give it much thought."
The young man looked thoughtful. "What if… What if this made me think of a friend?" The young man asked. "If the vision felt like our time together?"
"Is this so?" The older man asked.
"Yes. Most of it."
"Then I would say that this concerns him." The man thought. "It is our teaching that horses represent power, and the whirling rainbow is a powerful vision indeed. It signifies the rainbow family. Those of all colors and backgrounds who would follow the good ways."
"And the circle of people, half dressed in light and half in dark?" The young man swallowed.
"It is hard to say. Surely it is significant. Remember it as it may be of great importance later."
"Should I go to my friend?" The young man looked concerned.
"No." The older man replied. "But you should return home – to be ready to take his hand when he offers it."
"I understand." The boy said softly. "I'll miss this place."
"This place has been here longer than I have." The old man chuckled. "It will be here long after I have gone." He smiled. "But I will take it with me as well. In here." He thumped his chest once. "As will you."
The young man smiled. This thought pleased him.
Slowly the old man hauled himself up his stick until he was standing again. "Stay until you know it is time to go." The old man smiled. "I have to travel up the river. The people there will need me soon."
The young boy smiled. "Thank you. For everything." He looked to his left. "Please, take my blanket. It will keep you warm." He presented the folded blanket to the older man who took it with a grateful smile and nod.
"If I think of anything else…" The old man smiled. "I'll e-mail you." He tucked the blanket under his arm, turned, and hobbled back towards the woods. When he reached the tree-line he paused for a moment and a great crow swooped out of the sky and landed on his shoulder. The man began to speak to the bird in muted tones as they disappeared together in to the folds of nature.
I wonder if I should have told him the rest… He wondered. No. It was far too personal.
What he had not said was as he returned along the beam he had slipped in to the woods at Bayville. There he saw a wolf spirit – and the vision took on the feel of a strangers company instead. At first the wolf had growled and nipped at him, but as he took a breath and found his inner peace he opened himself to the spirit to share his peace of mind. Suddenly the spirit had attacked him, passionately, and they had swirled in to an orgasmic rush and became one soul – together.
It was this bliss that had eclipsed his consciousness, allowing him to awake in this centered and peaceful mood.
"You're real, aren't you?" He whispered with a smile.
And the wind rose, whistling softly, ruffling his hair and caressing his body – intimately.
Elsewhere, Alistaire Stuart was having the weirdest day.
Can you believe this place? He asked himself with a shiver of glee.
And he was right. The hotel suite was the most posh and opulent thing he had ever seen. The furniture was all genuine antique. He had no idea of the maker or time period but it was obviously the work of the finest craftsmen. The wood swept, rolled and scrolled at the edges in what was obviously a triumph of the craft of carpentry.
The floor of the living room appeared to be a single piece of black marble with swirls or red and silver lacing through it, heated from beneath to be warm to the touch.
The bathroom was equally as impressive, and as Alistaire noted, almost the size of his entire apartment.
Connecting the bathroom to the living area was a great bedroom. Fine red silk sheets adorned a great round bed that looked large enough to sleep a family.
The suite came complete with a consort's room (a smaller bedroom with a queen sized bed, a wardrobe instead of a closet and a private half-bath), a balcony with a view of London, a private library stocked with leather-bound classics and an attentive butler who served piping hot tea from the finest china cups.
Enjoy it while you can Alistaire old boy. Sure enough your Mister Wagner won't be letting you have the run of the place once he arrives.
Alistaire surveyed the paperwork he had been given. I hope I can recognize him at the airport. He thought wryly. This Xeroxed yearbook photo isn't much to go on.
The great grandfather clock began to chime softly. Damn. He thought. Almost time to go.
He pulled out his timetable. First the airport, then the welcoming ceremony, and then back here to prepare for the photo-op's tomorrow.
He breathed a long, slow sigh of relief. You'll show them Alistaire. He told himself. You're all over this. They thought they were getting rid of you old boy, but this might very well be your shot at the big time.
He eyed himself in the great antique mirror. "You're finally moving up in the world." He smiled at himself. "Even if you do have to kiss up to this young American to get there, I say, pucker up!"
He shot himself a wild grin as the clock finished chiming the hour.
Somewhere in the back of his mind something nagged at him.
Eight, nine … His eyes went wide. Nine chimes can that be… But terror had already seized him. Damn ornate clock! He gasped. "I'm late!"
And in a wild frenzy, he broke for the door, barely grabbing his jacket as he slid out the door and in to the elevator ignoring the uncomfortable stare of the lift operator he insisted "Go, go, go!"
