Wild Adventure Ep 10, Ch 7.3 Season Knights

At the next flat area (after another steep, grueling climb), the earth is dry and cracked, the night is oppressively hot and humid, but there is no statue, just an empty pedestal. The landscape is barren and desolate. A lone figure sits to the side of the path, well-lit by the bright moon and stars. The creature’s body is crisscrossed with scars and stitches, and different shades of skin. As Tonic, Prism, and Atcher approach, the figure stands, saying, “Call me Patches. Are you looking for Summer?” The whole mountain rumbles again, and a dry layer of dust settles onto everything, “That’s what I was looking for too. But don’t say the name. The mountain gets really peeved.” Patches finishes with a disheartened sigh.

“The Knights get renamed periodically. They must be named to be given their purpose, and these names influence the coming seasons. The fourth knight has gone missing, because it has no name. You must find the Knight’s name, and carve it on the empty Mantle before the Wheel of the Year reaches Spring’s end. The lost knight was made of copper, like the bright flame of the Summer sun.” A cracking, crumbling growl shakes everybeing to the ground. “Ugh. Fine. The hot sun; better?” Patches asks the world. The group waits a moment. Seeming satisfied at a lack of further response, Patches continues, “In the past the knight has been named Plenty, Fire, Growth, Flowers, and Drought.” I have looked all over the mountain, but I cannot find the knight, and I don’t know what to name it. Shouting words about sum… er, I mean, seasonal words out doesn’t work. Either the knight doesn’t just show up when called, or I’m not using the right words.”

“You seem exhausted; kind of out of ideas. Why don’t you just go back for a bit?” Atcher asks, brushing off sand and dust, “Go home and rest, or research, before trying again?”

Patches looks surprised, a greenish patch of skin raising high over a brown eye, and the thick stitching between a yellow piece and a purplish bit of flesh making a triangle over a blue eye. “Have none of you looked back yet?” Patches says with some pity, “You chose this path. The only way out is forward, new choices. You don’t get a do-over.”

Gnome, sprite, and brownie slowly turn to look down the path behind them. “Oh.” they all breathe. There is no path behind them. Tonic opens Graeme’s journal at random for inspiration, and reads with a slight sneeze, “You can always leave...”

“That’s actually pretty comforting” Atcher says. 

“What? How does it apply? There is no path!” Prism points out, patting at dust caked-on to clothes and satchel.

“Okay,” Atcher continues “There is no path behind us; we made a choice and can’t go back to the start and choose something else. But we can always leave. We just have to choose going forward.”

“Yes!” Tonic pipes up, “That’s what Graemes says. ‘Whether it is a job, a hairstyle, a relationship, or a meal, you can always choose to change it. Leave, choose something different.’”

Patches is astonished, and stands still for several minutes, with multi-length, multi-hued hair tangling in the sandy wind. Just as Prism asks, “Are you okay?” Patches re-animates. Then with a joyful whoop, Patches dances toward the statue base. With a powerful leap, Patches picks up the shield (which had recently been leaning against the statue’s base), and proceeds to slide down the side of the mountain, letting out an enthusiastic “Thank you!” Soon exhilarated whoops, hollars, and screams echo back up the mountain. They mostly seem cheerful, and only occasionally terrified.

“I’m glad that was helpful.” Tonic says with a small cough, still rather shocked “I guess Patches never considered that leaving was always an option?” 

“Yes, I think a lot of beings forget that after making a choice, you can still choose something different. It is always good to be reminded that you can leave.” Atcher agrees, while trying to face away from the hot, abrasive night wind.

Prism nods, like a wave at low-tide, “Knowing we can leave is good, but I want to find the missing knight so that we can make it to the Tree Beyond the Garden. Any ideas?” 

The sprite, brownie, and gnome try to think of the next step in finding the missing knight, but find concentration difficult with the searing night’s dry heat and scouring dusty wind. Every way they turn still blows rough grit into their faces, and there is no protection from the constant coating of grime.

“Okay,” Atcher asks while spitting out sand, “What epitomizes summer? Oh blasting stones…” 

At the mention of ‘summer’ the bright sky itself shakes to fractures, and the mountain powders to dry, scorching dust. Everything sinks down some into the fine, sucking sand. 

“Blistering buds! It is boiling hot!” Tonic yells in fear. Reaching toward Prism and Atcher, the gnome tries to pull them out of the sinking sand.

Steam hops out of the travel teapot to help, blowing mightily (like gentle puffs of air). Undertow and Turbine join in, but all the Wind Rabbits’ efforts only seem to shift the friends further into the sand. Atcher’s ankles are locked fast, and Tonic is buried nearly to the knees. Prism angrily struggles to get free, feeling the tie to water and tides leaking away into the dehydrating dirt. The sand greedily sucks away the moisture, and the already-parched Prism swiftly dries out, starlight twinkling reflections on the dissipating water sprite. In less than a moment, Prism is gone.

Staring in silent shock, Atcher and Tonic don’t know what to do. This was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted quest to find an often-absent mentor. A sweet romp of a Wanderlust to rejuvenate their spirits. How can their friend be gone? So fast, without warning? Atcher screams and Tonic tries to dig into the sand, looking for their friend. Undertow snuffles disconsolately at the dirt.