Sparrowheart

2

The Boy sat in meditation, his soul wrapped in inner light and wonder. Images flashed before his mind's eye, random yet somehow familiar. Shapes twisted and formed into new things, carrying him along on a journey of discovery. Truth grasped, then lost, then reassurance of eternal understanding...when he was this steeped in nirvana, a tear would usually fall from his eye.
Sounds moved past him and around him, tuned out by his loss of awareness to the outside world. Nothing usually disturbed this sacred act, but today was different. A bird landed on a tree a few feet away from where the boy sat in a clearing, and the crisp sound of those talons crushing dead leaves made his eyes shoot open. Instantly, he recognized this bird he had never seen before, a sparrow, and he grasped his chest. He fell to the ground and started to pull his hair as images of fire, men on horseback with small metal weapons, and his mentor's face came flooding into his head. He knew immediately that this Sparrow was his mentor's heart, and that the old man was dead. He had hardly believed the stories about Sparrow Heart and the magical creature that supposedly lived inside of him. It wasn't that he disbelieved the wizard, he had simply considered it one of his many jests or a metaphor. Sparrow was always using metaphors to explain magical and alchemical reactions, ascribing beauty and meaning to the natural processes of the world. Now, in the quiet of the forest, he knew it was true.
The sparrow cocked his head and met the boy's gaze. Instantly, he was taken to another time and place.

***

The time was many sunsets ago now, he remembered, and the place was the World's Edge; a cliff that opened into a great chasm below where Sparrow Heart had often held lessons with the boy. The warmth and love shared by student and teacher returned to him and he was mesmerized by atmosphere of that day once again. The old man was sitting on a stone near the cliff-side, leaning on his great staff. The boy sat at his feet listening. The multitude of stars had just begun to show themselves in the sky as the sun's last light painted a canvas of deep crimson and yellow fire. Sparrow pointed a gnarled finger at a constellation and traced it.
"Do you recognize that one?" He asked.
"The Bear?"
"Very good. And that one?"
The boy's eyes followed the old man's hand as it moved and settled on another part of the sky.
"The Warrior?"
"Indeed. I believe you know the stars better than I do now."
The boy smiled sheepishly.
"I doubt that very much."
"Perhaps you doubt yourself too often, young one. There is very little left I can teach you."
"How can that be so? I have no staff, no name."
"All that is left is for you to understand. You know what to do, now you must apply what you have learned. For that, I cannot help you. You must look within."
"I'll never be as wise as you, Sparrow."
"Perhaps not. You will be much wiser than I before the end."
The boy shook his head but smiled.
"Never."
"Look here! I have not the time or longevity to banter with you! If you consider me wise, then let my words ring true your ears! I have seen a great many things in my lifetime, much of which have darkened my heart. You are a light in that darkness. The others may not see it yet, but they lack the wisdom. They are concerned only with current tasks, and this is their downfall. You must make them see."
"Will you not convince them yourself?"
"I will not always be here. In fact, my time is running short, young one."
At this, the boy's eyebrows clinched and he became angry.
"Don't say such things, teacher."
"I speak only the truth."
The boy looked down at a blade of grass, then plucked it mindlessly.
"I will not be able to carry on without you."
The old man put a hand on his shoulder and waited until the boy met his gaze.
"You will, and you must. Look again at the stars."
The boy obeyed.
"You know where The Warrior and The Bear are. That is not enough. In time, you will learn to hear them speak to you. Knowledge is only the beginning, my friend. Your heart will commune with the stars and you will soar to great heights without ever moving. They will whisper universal truths to you, if you but stop and listen. All I have done is made you aware of the voice. I cannot interpret their words for you, they speak only to your soul, privately, as with everyone else. Sometimes, great wars and battles are fought over what they have told people separately."
"Why would they cause conflict and confusion?" the boy asked.
"They do not. They speak only what is true. It is the hearts of men that choose to cling to their ideals. They do not account for the bigger picture. See there? Look out!"
The old man once again pointed to the sky.
"There is not just The Bear and The Warrior! There is The Saint, The Prophet, The Father, The Mother, The Serpent, The Hunter, and the Craven. Look! There is The Hammer and Tongs, The Falling Water, and The Sisters. I will not name them all, you already know them. Together, they make The Great Tree. Every star is part of The Tree, as are we. You cannot cling to one energy and disregard the rest, yet that is what most do. True wisdom is knowing that they all have a purpose in the grand scheme. You may choose only to listen to The Hunter and will never hear the healing voice of The Mother. You will learn to listen to both and see the balance. No one voice has all the pieces, and that is the way of it."
The old man rose to his feet.
"Come, it's growing late. It's time to head back to The Village."
"We've already missed lastmeals."
"Nalthan will have extra stew set aside for us, as is his way. He is a listener of The Mother."
The boy rose from where he was sitting and followed.
"Is it not odd for him to be so in tune with The Mother?"
The old man harrumphed as he used his staff to check the ground for snakes.
"And who told you such a thing?"
"No one. Well, it seems like he is...different from most of the other men in the village."
"My dear boy. There are women who are most in tune with The Father and The Hunter. There are men who follow the voice of The Sisters. It is the way of things. Oddity does not come into it. Put such things away from your mind. What have I just told you? All voices are important. The vessels they choose are inconsequential. It is the variety of life."
"I see", said the boy.
"You will. In time."
"You keep saying that. 'In time'. If I have nothing left to learn and the other masters will not name me, what am I to do?"
The old man chuckled, then stumbled over a rock. Instinctively, the boy caught him and helped him regain his balance.
"Thank you, my lad."
They walked on in silence for a few minutes.
"You still have not answered my question."
"Enjoy the moment, young one. Patience."
"I've been patient my whole life!"
At this, the old man laughed heartily and patted the boy on the shoulder.
"You have not been around so long. One day, you will realize this."
"One day."
"Yes. One day."