Dear Trae, How About A Very Short Story?

Zho was a restless youth.

He lived in Seaside.

Seaside was just a boring fishing village, alone on a green coast and a long stretch of white sand. There was the creek that came from a spring inland, that nobody ventured down any longer. There were roads that once led north, but were now overgrown with vegetation. The remaining roads led south, to the villages that were further inland, amidst the great prairies of the Center Land.

And few went there. Once a year, those farmers from the Center Land villages would come to Seaside and trade, usually with enormous bags of grain. They were seeking dried fish, which Seaside had in quantity.

That was pretty much all that they did in Seaside. They fished, They fished and fished and fished some more. Oh, yes, there were your net makers, your shell and bone jewelry makers, a tailor. But people in Seaside fished. And fished.

And fished.

Zho did not want to fish. He wanted something else.

The elders in the village knew this temptation well. They would see it every generation or so, and it ended one of two ways. Either the young person would eventually fit in, or they would vanish.

It was said that those who vanished did not simply walk away. Some were led away, so the stories went, usually at the hand of Gioff, the eldest in the village. It was also said that Gioff could remember a time when there were more people in the lands north and south. But that was a long time ago, and Gioff was a very old and tired man. Very, very old.

Zho chose to ignore the stories. There must be something more, he thought on more than one occasion.

At nights, when most of the villagers were asleep, Zho would walk out to the pier, out far into the waves, among the tied up fishing boats, and look at the sky. He would almost always see the band of the Milky Way, as they called it, stretching across the sky. He could also see another, fainter band, the Pale Band, as it was called, that stretched from east to west, and had the occasional odd bright spot within it.

But off to the north, he would always see a glow on the horizon. It was faintly golden, and very wide, apparently on an even more distant shore.

One night, as he lay watching the distant glow, he spotted something new.

A small light, rising from the glow.

It was like a small golden star, and it rose and rose and rose, arching off to the east, until it disappeared beyond the distant edge of the sea.

Zho was excited, but he knew the village rules.

-

As a result of his excitement, Zho barely slept. He was up before the fishermen. He was up before his mother. As the Sun broke the edge of the seas, Zho raced from his small house, and down the path to Gioff's home. When he got there, he rang the chime that hung from the front entryway of Gioff's house.

Zho was taking a chance that the old man would be up. He was almost always up with the Sun.

From within the house he heard a voice, "Zho Cantib, what is it you want?"

"To speak with you! I saw something last night. It was like nothing I'd ever seen, and..."

Gioff had apparently raced as fast as his centuries old feet could carry him, and opened the door.

"SHHHHHHH! Come inside, and keep your voice down, son!" he said, as he motioned the boy inside.

-

"What is it you saw?" Gioff asked, as he sat down upon the pillows and rug strewn upon the tiled floor.

"I saw a light. It rose up out of the... the... glow? Yes, a glow, off to our north, far away, beyond all the dunes and the world."

"Go on," Gioff said, lighting a pipe.

"It was like a star, and it went up and up and traveled out over the sea until it fell into the sea, or beyond it, I suppose," Zho said in a hurried voice.

Gioff looked around, and back at Zho.

"Have you told anyone else of this?" the ancient man asked.

"No, elder. I have not."

"Listen to me, boy. What you saw was just a type... of bird. Yes. A bird. It has a fiery nest that none can touch when it rises. That is the glow. But you can never go there, nor set eyes upon the place, for it will kill you in an instant. Besides,", Gioff said, blowing a dense cloud of tobacco smoke, "it is very, very far, beyond the edge of the world."

"But what if I sailed?" Zho asked.

"Then the fiery birds will see you long before you get there, and they will kill you dead. That is all I am going to tell you on this matter, and you must speak of this no more."

"But elder, I have to know..."

"You do not need to know what does not concern you. Now, be gone, and forget what you saw, I haven't got time for these... matters," the old man said, turning his back on Zho.

That was a painful custom, for it said leave now.

-

Stay tuned.