The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix (41 page)

The tree gave the girl a gentle push. “Stay
on the road you chose so long ago. See it to the end. Do not
deviate from it. I, the old sage of this woodland, have weathered
countless storms, but have also basked many days in the warmth of
the sun. You are but a sprout, young to the world around you. Many
storms must you endure, the possible threat of the woodman’s axe
occasioned often. Do not give in to the folly of your youth when
those and other dangers block your path. Like the field people who
rise to glory when the summer is high, but fade to stubble when the
winter tempest blows, your trials will not last but a season and
then they will be forgotten.”

Ishtar thanked the ancient tree, and then
took to the path. The old hemlock called after her with its final
bit of council. “A sprout does not grow into a giant tree in a day…
or two. Many long years, ages, it does take. Ancient you will one
day become, that is assured, but do not be in a hurry to reach it.
Learn your lessons well, for many are the forest people who will
need your wisdom in those future times.”

The forest path was smooth and wide, but it
twisted, bent, and rolled its way here and there across the forest
floor. The dampness of the world beneath the wide tangle of
evergreen, oak, ash, maple and hickory made the road cool and at
times slippery. Occasionally Ishtar would find herself dropping
down and down into some steep ravine only to have to claw her way
up the other side, and then over some high, forested peak, only to
plunge down again into the darkness far below.

The deeper into the kingdom of the forest
people the girl went, the more subdued her own glowing light became
until she found herself walking along more by sense than by sight.
As her radiant power diminished, the more pressing the forest
became. Although feeling no direct hostility, there was a powerful
sense of growing unwelcome coming from the surrounding wooded
giants. Whispering voices muttered in disquiet, “We do not want it
here. Ruin us all, it will. Naked it is, with no fur of leaves to
cover its limbs, no roots to hold its feet secure in times of
distress, no knowledge of our life and ways. Surely it will bring
unwanted change to our peaceful world.”

“Stay to the trail.” The aged hemlock had
warned, and Ishtar dutifully obeyed. It was a good thing, too. Many
a tree would attempt to dissuade her from the path by placing their
knurly roots across it in attempts to trip her up. Other aged tree
people, usually the oaks or weathered maples, would call out,
asking for her to step aside and have a friendly chat with them,
seeing she could tell them about the world far beyond their wooded
kingdom.

In time, the twisting trail gradually fell
away into the blackness of a deep, craggy draw. As Ishtar felt her
way along a steep rock face, she listened to the enchanting music
of a tiny, bubbling brook, its water lapping at the girl’s feet.
Eventually, the canyon narrowed to the point where its two rock
faces were little more than three short cubits wide. Ishtar was
forced to splash through the stream, keeping her balance by feeling
her way along the chasm’s high walls. Soon the canyon gradually
closed over her until she was making her way through a cave as its
ceiling slowly crept lower and lower until the girl was squirming
along through a frightfully low, narrow tunnel.

Waters Ishtar once splashed along were
rapidly becoming deep to the point of the child being convinced she
was soon going to drown. At the last moment, when her nose was
pressing the roof of the tunnel to find a breath of air, the tunnel
opened into a small grotto. Too deep to walk, Ishtar began to swim,
seeking to find an exit. After all, the path had delivered her
here. It must continue on in some way. After swimming about for
endless hours -
in a dream unpleasant events often seem
endless
- Ishtar finally decided that the trail must be out and
up through a subterranean opening. Taking a deep breath, she
plunged beneath the chilly waters in search of it.

Down, down, down the child dove into the
blackness in her daunting search for escape from this fathomless
cavern. Little consideration did she give to the fact that a good
swimmer she was not, and never had she swum deep below the water’s
surface, and the need for air to refill tired lungs did not enter
her mind. Soon she could not tell the direction she was swimming, -
up, down or sideways. When despair was beginning to seep into her
heart, the blackness gave way to the tiniest of glowing lights far
off in the distance. With renewed energy and sweeping strokes, she
hurried onward into the deep abyss.

Soon forgotten was any search of escape from
this watery world of chilling cold and total blackness. Ishtar was
now in pursuit of a flickering golden light that appeared to be
retreating at her approach. Driving heart and muscles to their
limit, she struggled to catch up to this strange light, wondering
not if she might find escape by it, but more out of curiosity as to
what it was. Dangerous though it might be, she thought naught of
those perils, seeking only the discovery of what might be creating
that light.

Her persistence eventually paid off, the
girl smiling, satisfied. There was not one golden glowing light,
but many - an entire tightly packed school of tiny fishes all
aflame in brilliant light, swimming this way and that. Surprised,
Ishtar was to realize they were not fleeing her. Why, they paid her
no heed at all! The tiny fish completely ignored her as they
hurried ever forward on some unexplained journey or quest. Ishtar
decided to follow them to see where they were going.

On and on the tiny fishes swam, ever on.
Now, other less inquisitive children might have given up the chase
and swum to the surface and returned to the outer world by the way
they came, there to go in search anew for the trail they were to
take. Ishtar was a determined soul, and most curious. Impossible it
was now for her to surrender the chase. For good or ill, she must
continue on her quest to discover what these little creatures were
searching for. Still, it was such a long time they swam that even
Ishtar began tiring of the chase.

Soon Ishtar’s mind was wandering, it
thinking about other matters to the point of the girl nearly
forgetting about the fishes all together, that is, until she
noticed the fishes glow reflecting off a rough-hewn rock face far
down in these watery depths. Excitedly, she swam close up to the
fishes, following behind while sliding her hand along the slippery
stone. She silently mused at how comforting it felt to be touching
something solid in this seemingly endless ocean of water.

Suddenly, without warning, the school of
tiny glowing fishes disappeared, leaving Ishtar again in the total
darkness of that deep abyss. Fighting down her growing panic, she
swam along the rock wall, her hands continually skimming its face.
As her hope began to fade, the rock wall suddenly fell away into a
depression of sorts. Peering in the direction that the wall fell
away, she again saw the golden light of the tiny fishes, but now
they appeared to be far down a small passage leading away from the
cavern.

Giving no consideration to her safety, or
whether this tunnel might just go down into another deeper and even
bigger cavernous ocean, Ishtar kicked hard to enter the small
opening, and began pulling herself along by her hands in hopes of
catching up with the fishes.

Soon the passage narrowed, and then it
narrowed still more to the point the girl was forced to turn
sideways, squeezed between the tunnel’s two opposing walls. Kicking
and pulling with all her might, she slowly made her way along until
the child was unable to move forward, or return to the blackness
behind. With panic rising in her breast, she pushed with every last
bit of her strength to escape her possible tomb. Finally, with one
great heave, she tore herself free, the jagged passage wall ripping
at her flesh.

Bleeding and bruised, the child eventually
escaped that terrifying place and emerged into a watery world
filled with radiant lights of dancing blues and greens. With great
surprise and relief, Ishtar found that she was breaking the surface
of another cavernous lake, this one lit up by beautiful crystal
stones hanging down from the cave’s high, vaulted ceiling.

This intoxicating feeling of fresh air
filling her lungs made Ishtar almost giddy. Oh, this was such
delightful place, the waters warm, the air clean and sweet
smelling. In a few moments, she had swum to a smooth, flat
outcropping of rock that jutted away from the cavern wall, quickly
climbed on to it, and was stretched out resting. What a relief to
be out of the water!

How long she lay there luxuriating in sleepy
repose, Ishtar did not know. This was an ever-world of colorful
lights. Time stood still here, with only the occasional drip of
mineral water falling from one of the bluish-green crystals high up
in the ceiling. So what? It felt good to be here, safe, you might
say. Maybe she could stay here a while, rest up, you know, and then
go on, after she had thought about it a bit.

A sudden disturbance across the waters
alerted Ishtar to another’s presence. Her heart filling with
apprehension, she peered off in the direction from where the noise
was coming. In time the girl saw an ugly, hairy, beast-man slowly
emerge from a shadowy cave across from where she sat on the edge of
the lake. In his hands, he carried a heavy iron pot, and in a
shoulder pouch, a bundle of wood.

‘This must be a troll!’ Ishtar excitedly
thought...well, at least what a troll should look like, she never
having seen one. Afraid to move a muscle, the girl silently sat
there staring at the scary troll.

Setting the wood down, the troll took the
pot and dipped it into the lake, and after starting a fire with the
wood, placed the water-filled pot upon it. A smile grew on his face
as the flames rose up around the pot, the water setting up a merry
boil. The troll broke into a happy little hum and once again walked
toward the edge of the lake. Bending low, he picked up a heavy
black line tied to a large rock. “Whoa, now!” He laughed as the
weight on the other end of the line nearly toppled him into the
water. Regaining his balance, he gave several long tugs on the
line, eventually pulling a large, round basket-shaped object from
the lake. With a satisfied harrumph, he turned and retreated to the
blaze.

Nearing the fire, the troll lifted the
basket up, pulled the slip-rope away and with both hands spread
wide the opening in its top. Smacking his lips, he stared down into
the basket, starting again his happy little hum. Filled with
curiosity, Ishtar leaned forward, squinting, in an attempt to see
what might be hidden inside the object the troll was holding.

Standing over the boiling pot, the troll
turned the basket over, letting out a happy cry, “Oh, come to the
feast and fill me up. Stew and broth, I’ll drink you down!” He
laughed, dumping the basket’s contents into the bubbling pot.

Ishtar let out a gasp as she watched dozens
of tiny golden fishes tumble from the basket into the steaming
water. The fishes,
her fishes
, the tiny little glimmering
lights she had followed for so long were being tossed into the stew
pot to make a meal for the troll!

If the hungry troll heard Ishtar, he made no
indication of it. Taking a long wooden stick, he began stirring his
stew, all the while singing some senseless carefree song about
little fishes and other more tasty things in the waters below.
After several long minutes, the troll stopped his singing, placed
the stick down and, with both hands, picked up the bubbling pot,
smacking his lips as he sucked in a breath. Then, tipping his head
back while opening his mouth wide, the troll gulped down every last
drop of the boiling stew.

When finished, the troll stooped to place
the pot down beside the fire. Standing back up, he rubbed his
belly, letting out a satisfied sigh. “‘Tis good. ‘Tis good. Will
satisfy until I find another morsel sweeter still.” He looked over
at Ishtar, grinning.

Startled, Ishtar threw her hands to her face
as she involuntary recoiled at the troll’s grinning stare. The
troll belched then, while rubbing a hand across his mouth, began to
waddle toward the girl. In growing fear, Ishtar pushed herself back
along the rocky outcropping until she collided with the cliff wall
of the cave. Stopping at the water’s edge, the troll reached out an
arm and began to wag a finger at her. Ishtar let out a cry of
despair, uncertain of what might become of her.

Continuing to wag his finger, the troll
laughed and called across the water to Ishtar. “Fear not this old
fellow here, for I will not harm you.” He smacked his lips in
hunger, running his eyes back and forth across Ishtar’s naked body.
“Never have I harmed a soul, nor should you be afraid of me in any
way.” He became silent, waiting to hear some reply, all the while
continuing his hungry searching of the girl’s flesh.

Ishtar’s frightened mind was seeking to
recall a similar place and time when another man stared hungrily at
her. Try as she might, her heart refused to reveal that horrid
moment, but it did confess that there was a difference between that
time and this. The man’s hungry eyes from the past looked at her to
satisfy some maculate craving, while the troll’s longing gaze
appeared to be like that of a little child looking at a table
filled with sweet cakes and candy.

Ishtar cried out, “You wish to eat me! Evil
thing! Go away!”

The troll lowered his hands to his side,
laughing. “Oh yes! Oh yes! You look very tasty, fat and very
tasty.” He frowned. “But I would never harm you. No. No. Never harm
you or anyone. Never have. Don’t need to.” At that, he slowly
turned, making his way back to the fire. Throwing on the last of
the wood, he sat down cross-legged, facing the blaze, beginning
anew another little humming tune, while paying no more attention to
the girl.