Bartholomew Nogard stood on one of the many plateaus on the side of the mountain and gazed at the vista before him. He had spent all of his 25 years roaming the hills and countryside in the shadow of Dragon Mountain. There was not a piece of this land that he did not know, had not explored, and had not seen change with the seasons.
He turned slightly to his right and looked down at the creek winding its path throughout the valley where he and his childhood friends would swim and frolic in its waters on warm summer days, laze on its banks and watch the cloud formations in the spring, or catch fresh fish for the evening meals. As his eyes followed the creek’s path he saw the woods where he shot his first deer. His family was amazed that he was able to shoot the bow with remarkable accuracy at such a young age – he was only 5. Ah, and there was the tree marked with his initials and those of his first love surrounded by a heart – I. F. + B. N.. He gently smiled remembering that cold winter day when his heart was warm with first love and he so shy. Isilindil Falassion never knew! And there were the rock formations at the base of the mountain were they use to play the kids’ version of king of the mountain. Oh the many scrapes and cuts he got trying to reach the top first – the thrill when you were the one that reached the summit, waving your hands in the air in victory and taunting in a sing-song voice to anyone who would listen. “I’m king of the mountain!! I’m king of the mountain!!”
This was home to him; all he had ever known and surrounded by those who loved him. But, he knew the time had finally come. He was going to have to leave Dragon Mountain for he felt he had a destiny to fulfill. Now, was the time to embark on his personal journey. Bartholomew knew that this, this quest and the results of it, was part of why he had been born. He felt he had some importance in life other than living it out here in the shadow of this mountain. The need had become so great inside him, almost consuming him now, that he could not put it off any longer. If he didn’t leave, he felt he would suffocate. Since the southern face of Dragon Mountain eventually turned into the cliffs that surrounded the Vishnu Sea, he knew he must travel in the opposite direction to find what he was seeking. His gaze went to the horizon, the unknown. NORTH. This was where he was going to have to start his adventure…north of Dragon Mountain, north of Vishnu Sea, north of his homeland.
It saddened him to think of leaving his family behind for this was not a holiday outing they could take together. This was his and he was going to own it – good choice or bad. The guilt that he had been feeling for the past decade or more still sat heavy on his heart – the fact that he didn’t feel he could be completely honest with those he loved with all his heart. Bartholomew caught his parents, Ronin and Sapphira, looking at him strangely. The little side glances between them started about ten months ago. Bartholomew sighed. He began spending more and more time exploring the ancient towers and the dilapidated cottages around them. He often came home dusty from the old ruins with cobwebs still clinging to his sandy hair and the back of his shirt. On rare occasions, Bartholomew would bring an old book with brittle pages home with him so he could spend more time sitting at the table and carefully reading it by candle light. Sapphira sometimes kept him company knitting by the fire. She tried asking him questions about why the ancient writing would fascinate a young man, but she never received a reply. Bartholomew was so engrossed that he never heard her feeble attempts to try to understand him or what was driving him to such extremes. Over the months, she finally gave up asking him but continued to keep him company; rocking in her chair next to the fireplace while she sewed.
Ronin tried to get him interested in hunting again. After all, he was an excellent bowman. He was the best hunter Dragon Mountain had seen in many years. Bartholomew just shrugged his shoulders when his father asked where the best place would be for hunting wild boar. Bartholomew’s green eyes would often get a faraway look in them and Ronin knew his son’s mind was thinking about other things. It was during those times that Ronin and Sapphira would look at each other in resignation and leave Bartholomew to do what he felt needed to be done, praying that their son would grow out of whatever consumed him. Bartholomew knew they were puzzled and he felt their fear on his behalf. He knew they didn’t understand what was driving him. He didn’t comprehend what was pushing him. So, how in the world could he possibly explain it to his parents so they could? Bartholomew felt he was at an impasse so he continued with his pursuit of knowledge and understanding and ignored the concerns of his parents.
And, then, there was the secret that he lived with for twenty odd years. He never spoke of it to anyone - not his parents, or siblings, or friends, and definitely not strangers who came and went from the village. Not a living soul knew. He had always felt very protective of it and sensed, even at the tender age of six, that it could spell trouble should anyone know. Really BIG trouble. The hours of missing time when his parents thought him to be with his friends and his friends thinking he was doing special chores at home. If they only knew. If he had ever let out the real reason, would they have thought any better of him or worse or understand his reluctance to discuss it? Would he have been forced to make a choice that he knew, in his heart, he could never, ever make – not then and not now? He had searched on his own for answers over the years - more recently looking through the old dusty books and papers in the forgotten towers trying to find answers. He was trying to find the explanation as to why he was burdened with this responsibility. He didn’t find enough answers in the archived texts. He asked the older villagers and travelers unrelenting questions under the guise of a young boy’s need for more and more adventure stories. While he was often spell bound at their countless stories, he didn’t find the answers he needed.
The first pains that he felt when he was about eight and didn’t totally understand why he had to be different and couldn’t be as free as other boys. There was just something holding him back that kept him from sharing his malady with his parents. As the years passed, he learned to tolerate the pain. The warm summer days when he had to wear a glove on his left hand and endure the jeers from those who didn’t understand then, would NEVER understand his secrecy now. Even then, he knew he was here, on earth, for a purpose. Even now, his gloved hand throbbed with a dull ache as he unconsciously rubbed it. And given all that was his life now, he was ready and somewhat eager to begin this exploration to find the “why” from his past so he could work towards his future.
Bartholomew continued standing on the side of Dragon Mountain letting his thoughts wash over him as he contemplated his life – past, present and future. His parents taught him to be a well-mannered young man – for the most part he was. It had only been the last few months that he felt himself withdraw from his life at Dragon Mountain. There were so many thoughts roiling around in his mind that it was hard to concentrate on just one. He felt he was standing on a precipice of an event bigger than himself and grander than Dragon Mountain. All of the reading and searching through musty records for answers that he couldn’t find frustrated Bartholomew. He could stay here in the only village he had ever known and become a pillar of the community like his father. He could find a woman to share his life and they could become a family. Perhaps give his parents the grandchildren he knew they desired. Lately, when he walked the village streets, he noticed several of the girls looking at him as he walked past. He even caught the wandering eyes of their parents looking over his medium frame and muscular stature, contemplating a match to their beautiful and available daughters. Was that so bad, to stay here and put down roots? Bartholomew recognized that should he stay here, that would become his life – wife, home, and children - and he was not ready for that type of life. Not yet anyway. Bartholomew had other roads to travel before he settled down. If they didn’t succeed, then he would come back home and give his parents what they wanted for his life. This quest just had to be his answer, it just had to be!
He sensed his long-time friend approach and just stand by his side; not making a sound but giving him the knowledge and the comfort that whatever the future held for him, Bartholomew Nogard, that he would have the company of such a truly amazing and extraordinary friend by his side. He would not be alone on this journey and his friend was equally important in its success. It was THEIR destiny and THEIR path to take – together.
Bartholomew reached over and put his left hand on his friend’s neck, unconsciously rubbing it, and quietly said, “The time has arrived, my friend. We will be off at first light.”
He felt his friend bow his head in acknowledgment. Bartholomew continued, “We have spoken of our destiny a lot lately. I think we both knew that when it would come, it would mean us leaving our homes and venturing out to find the answers we both seek. While we could live our final days here at Dragon Mountain, there would always be that empty feeling of could there have been more to my life if I had only left the comforts as I knew them. Oh, my dearest friend, I cannot do this without you, your support. You have been there for me throughout my life and I need you now, more than ever. We have this bond that no one will ever be able to break. But we need to find answers so that we can understand it better and not be so afraid. You do see the importance, don’t you?”
He could feel his friend’s breath on Bartholomew’s cheek as he moved closer. The number of times over the years that they stood like this - faces close, Bartholomew rubbing his neck, looking toward the horizon from the side of Dragon Mountain, having their talks. They both knew that this was going to be the last one, if not forever than at least for a very, very long time.
Bartholomew and his friend both gave deep sighs, ones that came from the very depths of their souls; the importance and magnitude of this quest lying heavy upon each of them. Each in their own world but with the other to lean on. This was, in part, their eternal destiny.
As the sun began her descent in the west and the moon rose in the east, Bartholomew stood facing the north. He closed his eyes trying to imprint all of this upon his mind, in his memories, and upon his heart. He was saying farewell to his life as he currently knew it. He was preparing for the next chapter of his life – their lives. He had not moved during all this contemplation; his hand still on the neck of his friend, his boyhood confidant since he was six, his eternal companion, his Blue Dragon, Shadow.
created originally 1 June 2011
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