Interlude II

Ghane Everheart

To say that only one person ever held a place in Ghane’s heart would be an understatement. He had loved and knew he would only love Octavia. Given the small communal nature of the High Wood Elves finding mated pairs was rare. There was Also the unknown fact that once a High Wood Elf fell for someone, that was it.

For Ghane’s sake, he tried to avoid having feelings for the Priestess. First, they were on completely different social levels. She was the esteemed of the esteemed, a High Priestess who lost her powers thanks to his stupidity. He knew that now that the woman of his dreams falling for another was his own making. He had fallen for Octavia and mentally vowed to let her know how he felt. But the timing was never right.

Then that boy came! That was the thought that infuriated Ghane the most. The boy, Lykan, was loved by everyone, accepted by everyone instantly. Granted, he had to be accepted by the people due to his mistake, but still. The boy came in, acted like he owned the place then stole what was his. Worse, he had fooled Ghane.

Ghane gave up a defective Spirit Blade for what was to be a true Mythril spear with magic. The spear was made out of Mythril, that much was certain, but there was no magic to the spear. As much as he wielded it in combat, never once could he achieve the fluidity of motion that the boy had displayed after his five years of being here, at their little commune.

Worse, during those five years, Octavia developed feelings for the boy. A boy, not even a man yet, and her heart fell for him. Curses!

Ghane cursed to himself as he practiced in the Martial training areas. When he got to tier five, the one Azani shaman would be more than enough to beat him every time, even with the great spear in hand.

Zap!

Ghane lay in a lightning-induced heap on the ground. His Mythril spear was a perfect conductor for the electrical current that had been wielded against him. I hurt so bad. He thought, then blessedly, the simulation ended, and the phantom pain of the simulation went away.

He slowly got to his feet, mana exhaustion from running the simulation, and his body and mind trying to adjust to his perfectly healthy body once more. As he crawled from the training simulation, he was shocked to find the Head High Priestess there, the one who gave up her name so she could become the title for her people.

Ghane looked around, trying to see the training guards or others who normally watched such practices. The only problem was everyone was gone. No one was in the training area, save for Ghane and the High Priestess.

Ghane’s exhausted mind took a moment to drop to the ground and prostrate himself before the High Priestess. Seeing the hesitation, the High Priestess nodded to herself.

“Revered mother, what is the meaning of this unexpected visit?” Ghane asked, an icy chill running down his spine. He had long suspected that a day like this would befall him.

“Rise Ghane Everheart, let us have a talk,” the High Priestess said.

Hearing his full name, Ghane knew something bad was about to happen. A general unspoken rule was you were fine if she never addressed your name, just gave a general greeting. If she used your first name, it was because you messed up and needed to be addressed. If she used your full name, then what? It had to be something bad.

Shakily Ghane arose from the ground and followed the High Priestess over to sit in the spectator stands. These were simple flat benches with no backings. The seats were minimal but still well maintained.

“Ghane, it has come to my attention that you have lost faith in the ways.”

Ghane felt his heart shutter and almost stop from the words. They were true. He had lost faith ever since his one true love fell for another, an outsider. He had lost hope that he could find happiness here. Ghane didn’t know how to reply, but a quick glance and a confirmation nod as all that was needed from the High Priestess to continue.

“Do you know what a pilgrimage is?”

“No.”

“At its simplest term, it is a journey, a trip. You go to an intended destination, then find what you were seeking.” The High Priestess paused. Once she saw that Ghane was fully engaged and locking eyes with her, she continued. “While on the outside, a pilgrimage is but a simple journey. In actuality, it is a far more spiritual event. It is about discovering who you are and, most importantly, who you want to be.”

There was a moment of silence as the High Priestess let those words sink in. The second before Ghane mustered the courage to speak, the High Priestess continued.

“We have all seen the signs. You are not whole. You are not who you want to be here, and as much as it pains us all to say it. You likely won’t be able to find who you are here, at least not as you are currently.”

The wind was taken out of Ghane, as he could see where this was going, but his mind desperately tried to deny the facts being so coldly laid out before him.

“We have all given it much thought and feel that you should partake in the ancient practice of the pilgrimage,” the High Priestess began, then she held out a book.

It was clearly a book from the sacred Library, as it was in the traditional leaf binding that all the great books of the Library had. A quick glance showed that this book was written in the native tongue, the new words of the High Wood Elves. He looked at the words and the delicately flowing script and saw that the book was written with delicate care and precision. As soon as he saw the book, he felt both humbled by the writing and angered by the fact that he knew how such a book came into being.

Lykan! The name was a mental curse in Ghane’s mind.

“That’s right, it was translated by Lykan. But read this story, then ask yourself if a pilgrimage is right for you. We will continue to support you with whatever you choose. But realize that if you want to improve and do better, then you need to first realize where you are and where you ultimately wish to be.”

With that, she placed the book in Ghane’s hands.

The book felt heavy in his hands, not from weight but from the spiritual presence he perceived coming from the book. At first, he felt intimidated by the book, but he eventually opened the book with a trembling hand.

Then he read the words.

The story was simple yet elegant. Telling of a young man who knew he did not belong. No matter how hard he tried and wished to accept his life as a simple farmer, he couldn’t. Then one day, he left, the call of adventure taking him far and wide. There were many people and experiences he faced. He had to face many terrible situations at first. Situations that made him question the values of the world at all. People stole from him, beat him. But there were some good things that Also came. He saw new people, learned new Skills, and traveled. How he loved to travel.

Finally, he had gone around the world and found himself outside a small village. As he looked at the village, it looked similar to the one of his youth, but there was magic in the fields. New people lived in the houses. These people were bright and vibrant, alive with hope and anticipation. They had nothing to do with the people of his home village.

Then he slowly realized he was what had changed. The people were still the same. Just his perception of them had changed. He now saw the beauty that was before him all the time.

After finishing the book, Ghane let out a long-held breath. He then looked around and was surprised that everyone from the training squad was there. Surprisingly people were practicing. He looked around in a half daze to see the guard Captain smile at him.

“Good book?”

Groggily Ghane looked at him, then followed his gaze to the book he had been holding. Finally, he realized that it was all just a story. A good and moving story, one that he apparently spent all night reading, but a good one.

“Yeah,” Ghane said.

“You going to practice today?” the Commander asked, clearly wondering if he needed to hold back one of the warriors who were going to train next.

Thinking about it, Ghane realized he was in no condition to train.

“No, but thank you,” Ghane said as he went to his room and prepared to pack. He already had everything he mostly needed with him. The only thing he truly needed at this point was rations. He had the waterskins, self-repairing shoes, and clothes that were tied to his own mana. He even had a weapon that he felt fairly confident with. He went to the dining hall to find that the members of Ghane’s crew were already out and praying.

To his surprise, they were praying for dried rations.

“What is this?” Ghane asked.

“We heard you might be leaving us, so we prayed for you to have rations that could travel well,” Kirgil said.

Seeing him and the act he was now performing praying for another was a truly warm act.

“You prayed that I could take your meal?” Ghane asked, seeing all the members of his old team here praying.

“Yes, couldn’t have you going hungry on us,” Salena said with a flirtatious wink.

Suddenly seeing the gesture, Ghane wondered if he had missed signs from her all along? Shaking his head to recover.

“Thank you.” Ghane was truly touched by their generosity. The act of sharing a meal was a sacred tradition of the High Wood Elves and one that Ghane respected. This was the ultimate form of sacrifice as these members would not be able to pray for a new meal until dinner time.

The impromptu meeting ended almost as quickly as it had begun. Sleena had to drag her sister Salena off when tears formed in her eyes.

She truly is sad that I am leaving? Ghane thought as he packed the dried rations neatly into his pack.

Then on his way out, he thought he could go unnoticed. But everyone came to say goodbye.

They were lined up in the entryway, blocking his path until they got to tell him goodbye.

Then the last person he saw was the High Priestess.

So many questions rolled through Ghane’s mind, but all he could do was stare at her mutely as his voice caught in his throat.

“Thank you,” he finally managed.

“I take it, it was a good read?” the High Priestess asked.

Confused, Ghane looked down to see that the book she had given him was still there. Had it always been there? Then he realized he had to unpack it so he could store all the food that had been provided to him by his own team.

“Yes,” Ghane stammered as he held up the book.

The High Priestess just smiled warmly and took the book. “Now then, go on to bigger and brighter things. When you come back, you must compile your own story to surpass this tale,” the High Priestess said.

“I will.” With that, Ghane walked forward, out the front door fueled with the hope that one day he might return.