Adventures of Little Mistai

Sssrrrr! The first arrow flew across the brook and planted itself at the feet of Eald Metod’s idol, standing sixty feet tall and watching over Mistaville.

At the age of twelve, Mistai was great at archery, sword fighting, horse riding, and many such things. He was brave and afraid of nothing in the world, but he had no friends. Every other kid in the village stayed away from him.

Mistai lived with his parents near the brook, isolated from the rest of the village. The whole village shunned the family. They were not invited to any local celebrations.

Mistavan, Mistai’s father, was bedridden for many years, and his mother took care of their family. The only sign of life in Mistavan was his slow, rhythmic breathing. He lay in bed motionless. No one could tell what was ailing him.

Sssrrrr! The warm arrow heated up as it shot through the trees and hit the wooden gate to his mother’s herb garden, leaving a burn mark.

Mistimum, Mistai’s mother, was a great healer. She grew many rare herbs in her garden. Many believed she could even bring the dead back to life. But even she couldn’t revive Mistavan from his illness.

Some believed that Mistavan had betrayed all the nine realms during the Great War, and that was what had made him ill. Some said he was in Trison, a place that is neither in heaven nor in hell nor on earth. It is place in the middle of nowhere. No one knows how to come back from that place. Some said he was the Dark King, and his dark magic backfired on him and made him sick. Very few thought he was dead.

Sssrrrr! The warmer arrow breached the forbidden boundary of the herb garden and singed the leaves of a rare herb. Mistai believed, like many, that his mother would bring his father back to life. But nothing changed; none of these herbs helped.

Mistimum was away; otherwise the aroma from the singed leaves would have brought her into the garden. She would have shouted at Mistai and put a protection spell on the garden so that Mistai’s arrows could not harm the rare herbs. That would have brought Mistai to his senses.

There were a few who still remembered the great farewell given to Mistavan when he rode into the Great War on his white stallion, leaving behind his young wife and five-year-old son. They remembered the great many songs written in his praise by many poets from all realms. There were a very few who knew that Mistavan rode into that war despite knowing that he may never come back. Mistealdor, chief of the village, was one of them.

Despite Mistealdor’s many efforts, after the Great War, he could not diminish the villagers’ fear and hatred toward Mistavan’s family. As a fallout from the debacle in the Great War, the nine realms suffered from many evils. The dark clouds that spread since then got darker and shrouded everything fair and dear in all realms. The dark clouds seldom rained, but when they did, the water was dark and killed many plants, so everyone prayed to the god Varna to stop the rains. People relied on underground waters and the River Mahi. With every passing year, River Mahi dried a bit more, crops a yielded a little less, and people lived shorter lives. Many diseases spread and turned numerous villages into cremation grounds. All nine races dwindled, and no new baby was born since then in any realm.

Mistai didn’t know what had happened in the Great War or why River Mahi shrank every day or why people shunned his family. But he was aware that no one wanted to play with him. When he entered a playground, all the kids deserted it.

Sssrrrr! The red-hot arrow burst into flames as it left the bow and burnt all the trees in its way until it plunged into the brook.

Mistealdor, his teacher and only playmate, was away. Otherwise the fire that erupted in the woods would have brought him out into the woods. He would have calmed Mistai. He would have reminded him how Mistai should control his emotions before his anger did lasting damage.

Many said that the nine realms had lost their great stones, which was the only hope to lift the darkness that had spread. The few who returned from the Great War said they last saw the great stones in Mistavan’s hands, as he walked into the Bourd Caves to meet with the Dark King. No one understood why he didn’t use the great stones to destroy the Dark King instead of having a secret meeting with him. All they saw at the end was a great explosion of the Bourd Caves, which were sacred for all realms, and great many dark clouds spreading from the destroyed caves since then across the realms.

Mistai remembered nothing much from the past, as he was too young. The only thing he remembered was his father giving him a good-bye kiss before riding away on his white stallion. Neither his mother nor Mistealdor, his teacher, told him what had happened since the Great War.

He remembered the kids who wouldn’t play with him but called him “dark lord” and ran away.

As Mistai aimed his arrow, he was not aware how dark that arrow turned. He had no sense of what was happening. Trees surrounding him shuddered, and beasts ran away as far as they could.

Before Mistai knew it, he raised his bow and released the arrow.

Sssrrrr!

“Ouch, that hurt! Roving arrows into the world around you is not going to take away your pain.”

The pleasant voice bought Mistai back to his senses, and his anger subsided. The storm that was brewing in the woods dissipated instantly.

Mistai quickly bowed to the tall figure who walked toward him with a dark arrow in his hand. Mistai was convinced that Mistealdor would take away the bow and arrows forever. He would never teach any of the combat skills any further. Mistealdor always warned Mistai about this day: the day he causes any destruction with the skills taught, he will take away all the weapons and make him forget the skills.

“Forgive me, Mistealdor. I will revive all the herbs and trees. I didn’t realize …” Mistai quickly pulled out a small bottle from the chain around his neck. He placed one drop of water from that bottle on the nearest heap of ash. In no time, that ash turned into a beautiful tree.

“Your anger not only dulled your intellect but also dulled your vision. Your teacher was right: you are very skilled at a young age, but you do not have any control over your skill.”

As the tall figure walked close to him, Mistai stopped and looked closely. He realized that the tall figure dressed and looked like Mistealdor, but he was not Mistealdor.

“I am your teacher’s teacher, Ealdor of all realms.” He returned Mistai’s arrow to him. It was no longer dark. Ealdor-XI’s touch itself removed the darkness from that arrow.

“Do not waste the precious gift your father gave you.” As Ealdor-XI waved his hand, all the ash heaps around them turned to their original selves.

Mistai wondered how Ealdor-XI knew about the gift.

“I know everything that happens in all the realms. I know how hard it was for your father to get those precious drops of water from the fountain of life. I also know that he asked you to take care of it for him before he left for the Great War. I know he wanted to revive everyone who died in the Great War, once the war ended.

“I also know that you accidentally found the use of the precious gift last year, trying to hide your destruction from your teacher.”

Mistai decided not to think about anything, lest Ealdor-XI find out.

Ealdor-XI laughed, sat on a nearby stone, and beckoned Mistai to sit next to him. “You don’t have to stop thinking for my sake. I will stop reading your mind. Come and show me your right palm. I would like to read that.”

Mistai went to Ealdor-XI the Great, bowed to him again, and showed his right palm. Many people never get a chance to meet an Ealdor in their lifetime, let alone sit next to him.

Ealdor-XI looked at his palm and said, “It is very interesting, indeed rare,” as he traced the line on Mistai’s hand from mount of Jupiter to mount of Mercury.

“Did you ever look at your father’s hand? Probably not. If you look at it, it will look exactly like yours. Even the lifeline and fate line are exactly the same. It is very rare. No two people in the world are born with the same fate. It is indeed rare.” Ealdor-XI paused.

Many questions popped into Mistai’s mind. When did Mistealdor speak to Ealdor-XI the Great about him? Why was the line in his hand important? But he hesitated to ask, as it could be deemed rude.

“Your teacher taught you well. But I am giving you permission to ask any questions you have. It is time you learned many things. But before you ask, let me tell you a few things that will help you to understand the purpose my visit to Mistaville today.

“Ealdors from all realms meet every full moon day. Since they cannot leave their own realms, they meet and discuss the affairs of their realms and seek my guidance using Vidarsi. Since the Great War, Mistealdor could not meet anyone, as he lost his Vidarsi. At least this is what he told me today. He stayed away from meeting any Ealdor from other realms for your safety. Your existence was hidden from everyone, including me, till yesterday. Even I do not know how Mistealdor was able to do that, but he is well known for his unorthodox methods. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. I invited your teacher to come to my realm to discuss a new cure that might help us wake your father from his sleep. He is the key to saving this world from this darkness that is spreading and becoming strong every day. I requested Mistealdor to bring your mother along with him, the greatest healer known to mankind, to discuss and share some of the intricacies of this new cure.” Ealdor-XI paused.

“I happen to know about you from your mother rather by chance. Your mother is very concerned about your anger and the destruction it leaves behind. I know you hid it well from your mother, but your mother knows enough to be concerned. No one knows why you have this special line in your hand from mount of Jupiter to mount of Mercury. It could be because you were born on the same day the Dark King did his greatest evil on Earth or because you were born with this rare line in your hand, the evil deed could happen. Or it could simply be your destiny. But it is unambiguous that this line will lead you to the path of destruction that will lay waste to all realms.” Ealdor-XI waited for Mistai to understand the significance of what was revealed to him.

Many questions rose in Mistai’s mind, along with his anger. His eyes burned like fire and at the same time, welled up with tears. The storm that dissipated before rose fiercely. He took an arrow from his quiver; it turned dark, darker than before.

Ealdor-XI spoke calmly. “If nurtured and guided well by a capable teacher, you might be able to bring back the imperishable light that was stolen from Earth. You could bring the light that will vanquish this ever-spreading darkness and bring peace to this world.”

“If it is my destiny, maybe I should fulfill it.” Mistai raised his bow, and the dark arrow turned darker. Even the air around it turned dark, as black fumes emitted from it.

Ealdor-XI looked at him with concern. Mistai no longer looked like a twelve-year-old boy who stood at the feet of Ealdor-XI the Great in reverence, just a few moments before.

Ealdor-XI walked to Mistai and placed his hand on Mistai’s shoulder. The darkness around Mistai started disappearing. The storm that brewed around them reduced in intensity.

He spoke softly to Mistai. “When Eald Metod created this world, he defined the destiny of every creature in it. But he also gave the power to change it to each one of us. Until we choose it to be our destiny, it cannot be our destiny. Choose wisely.”

Mistai stood there silently with his hand still on the bow.

“That one arrow in your hand could separate us from knowing the truth about what happened to your father on that fateful day. It could stop your mother from returning with the invaluable herb that could revive your father. It could stop us from bringing your father back from the dark lands he is trapped in and free him from his suffering. It could take all the nine realms into those dark lands. It could stop you living happily with your family forever. So, my beloved child, choose wisely.” Ealdor-XI the Great returned and sat calmly on top of the stone.

Mistai lowered his bow slowly and removed the arrow, placing it back in the quiver.

Winds blowing fiercely around them till then disappeared, and a cool breeze surrounded them. Flora and fauna in the woods returned to normalcy.

Mistai slowly walked back and sat on the ground near Ealdor-XI’s feet. He didn’t dare raise his head and look at Ealdor-XI.

“Ealdor the Great, pardon me for my transgression. I do not know what came over me, and I do not seem to have control of myself. My sincere apologies.” Mistai mumbled his apologies. Overcome by shame, he sat silently.

“Well, my child, nothing is lost yet. We still have hope. You showed great restraint today, and that is our greatest hope for a better future. One day you will master this power hidden in you and bring light to all realms. Do not lose hope, my child. Choose wisely, always.” Ealdor-XI patted Mistai’s head.

They both sat silently for a few minutes.

“Your mother and teacher should be here anytime. Let us pray that they are able to find Armalon on Penance Mountain. It is the key missing ingredient for your father’s cure. Let us pray by Eald Metod’s grace the cure restores your father from his illness. It is our last hope.” Ealdor-XI turned toward Eald Metod’s sixty-foot-tall idol standing on the other side of the brook and folded his hands in reverence.

After his prayer, Ealdor-XI sat on the stone, closed his eyes, and meditated. As many hidden things in Mistaville were revealed to him in his meditation, Ealdor-XI wondered whether he should have done this earlier and hoped it was not too late.