A Walking Walker
What are these visions that the Monk guides have seen. What had Devion and my good friends experienced? Their words are so adoring, yet slightly puzzling. I must find out for myself....
So in search to discover visions of my own I trekked through the kingdom. The warm spring breeze pressed my hair to my face as the sun shone down into my beaded eyes. The journey was long and eventful, stopping to talk with a fleet of ogres, encounters with snow beasts, and a slew of giant lobsters. I kept walking, searching for the same thing as my brothers and sisters seemed to have found.
At the end of the day, tired and weary, but excited about my journey nonetheless, I decided to rest on a small bridge. I spread my mat across the side of the bridge and lay for hours thinking. The stones had grown warm under the beaming sun all day, and they seemed to shift to the shape of my body. Welcoming me like a giant hug. The rumbling sound of the river beating against the rocks below relaxed my thoughts. As I drifted further and further into sleep, the stories I had heard of visions never left my mind.
As I neared sleep, I felt my body plunge towards the current below. I entered the river with a splash, and almost immediately began moving down the stream with the current. In a fit of panick my arms flailed out towards the shore, unable to grasp any of the slippery, mossy boulders. And then a hand caught mine, and grasped it with great, steady and effortlessly I was pulled to shore.
"Are you ok?" he said, "yes, but a bit scared,"I replied.
Crawling to the dry land I whiped my robes of mud and began drying them. I turned to face the person who had saved my life and thank them....but each way I looked there was nothing. I had only seen this persons friendly arm and wondered where they had run off too.
At that moment I seemed to jump out of my sleep as if I had been awoken. I had slept too long, the sun shone down from straight above and I had lost hours traveling time. Then I realized my clothes were soaked wet, and my hair matted to my face with mud. Was it a dream? It was then I heard the voice of the whispering wind, a voice which I had heard once before, "Go."........and so I will.