CHAPTER ONE

The sun shone through the slits of the crude window and onto the floor, onto the old man with a great beard and yet dreaming. The light moved slowly and when it slid upon his eyelids they stirred open. The eyes behind them were clear and green. He laid there with a woolen blanket over his body, but no other bedding other than the aged wooden floor against his back.

"Davram," he said.

Another moment of silence passed before the old man sat up and folded his blanket. His name was Somei. Many called him the Sorceror of the Seventh Moon. Some called him the Seventh Gardener. To himself, he was Somei.

Breakfast was broth and a slice of hard bread. Eating in silence, Somei passed gas and he chuckled between chewing the softened bread. It was all he could eat now with so little teeth. After eating, he went to his book and searched through the pages. The instructions came back to him and he closed the book and walked out.

He walked slowly through the garden, humming and checking each flower and tree he passed. The sun was warm. Each living thing he touched seemed to sigh and grow, colors deepening, smells ripening. Grass sprouted under his bare feet as he walked.

"You do well," he said to a magnolia, "As do you."

An orange ripened and fell into his hand as he reached out. He smelled and peeled it, then sucked at the sweet juice. All was healthy and filled with life. All was well. He continued his walk through and out of the garden, leaving behind the orange seeds as they immediately took root and four leaflings burst through the earth.

First would be the soil. It had to be rich, but soft. Good soil. He walked through the forest. A stag with immense antlers stood before him. Somei chuckled and walked to the stag. He gave the stag the orange peels, which it ate out of his hand. The stag's droppings fell onto the forest floor then it walked off in search of other food.

Somei walked through the forest and into a clearing where the grass grew to his chest. He walked to the center of the clearing and knelt down. His thick fingers dug into the soil and pulled out the grass by the roots. He touched the soil underneath. He rubbed it between his fingers, then dug into the soil again.

He grunted and stood up. Somei would walk back to the hut, get a bucket, walk back and fill the bucket with the soil, which he would slowly carry back to the hut. He cleared a long table of scrolls and seeds, then began to dump the soil onto the table.

One bucket at a time, he spent forty nine days gathering the soil. Each day he would eat his breakfast, walk through the garden, eat an orange, walk through the forest, and carry bucket after bucket of earth back to his hut, then eat dinner, smoke his pipe by the fire and sing a song. Then he would sleep and dream and repeat.

Once the soil was enough, he found the leaves of the sarat tree, the petals of a joni flower and the stalk of the birahnta mushroom, which was poisonous to ingest, though the cap could be used for a tea. He dried and ground down these things in a stone bowl. He tossed the mixed powder into the mound of now dried soil. He filled the bucket with water from the well in the garden, and poured it on the soil.

His hands massaged the soil into a soft clay, and he began to shape it into the rough likeness of a man. The legs, the arms, the neck and head. He sand and added dashes of water as he worked. At night he would lay a rough white cloth over the clay and slept on the floor under his single woolen blanket.

One morning, he was finished. He had the mud man on the table, its chest open. Somei looked at the heart he had fashioned. There was one last thing.

Somei went into the garden and found the nest of a song bird. He took one small egg as the mother watched from another tree with worry.

"Only one, my dear. Only one."

He took the egg and went back into the hut. Plucking a single strand of his own gray beard, he carefully tied the hair around the egg. Then he placed it into the open chest of the mud man. It was his gift.

He closed the chest and rubbed his hands together until they were warm and placed one hand on the heart and one hand on the forehead.

The mud man took in a breath and began to live. His eyes opened and they were filled with confusion and fear. Somei spoke softly to his creation.

"Ivishinai. The world knows of itself. It has many eyes and its many gazes all turn inwards to you. Ivishinai. It is as it is."

The earth man blinked and stared at Somei.

"I name you Davram. I made you, finding the right soil and molding you with my own hands. You are alive. Your name is Davram. I am your maker, Somei. You are Davram. I am Somei."

"Somei."

"Yes. You are Davram."

"Davram."

"Good. Ivishinai."

"Ivi..."

"Ivishinai. It is as it is."

"Ivishinai."

"Good, Davram. You please me."

Somei laughed out loud, startling Davram for a moment, but he soon seemed to relax and look around.

"I have a son. Ivishinai. I have a son."

Somei's laughter echoed through the green valley.