Strange Fantasies

The Mountain Wizard

The mountains were wide and ranging, one peak in particular experienced as awesome---nearest to the city, dominating the landscape.

The People called it the home of the Tongue of Lightning.

The storm was born in those mountains, nurtured in its valleys, and released its mature fury down the slope of the home of the Tongue of Lightning---the city being caught in its horrible grip.

None had seen a storm of such ferocity---streets flooded, head-high---shops ruined---park lands scoured to the base rock.

There had been a series of storms in the months preceding but none of the Elite scientists expected this savage monster...

The People said the Tongue of Lightning had sent the storm as a warning.

The Elite in the city had informed the People about the truth of the matter---Wizards are Fantasy---storms are natural phenomena, scientifically measurable occurrences of atmospheric variables.

So, why, the people asked, did the Elite meteorologists not predict this craven usurper of normality---why had the experts predicted a lessening of the stormy episodes?

Why had this last storm ripped buildings to shreds and not killed a single person?

The Elite proclaimed wonder at the lack of deaths, attributed it to statistical variations in people's behavior that had meshed in just the right way.

The People knew better---the Acolytes had warned them, instructed them in methods to save their lives, even though their livelihoods had been nearly wiped out of existence.

The Acolytes also had contact with the Tongue of Lightning---met with him in the mountains---learned from him what they then, secretly, taught the People.

~~~

He didn't particularly like the appellation Tongue of Lightning---he was just a man...

A man who had been part of the Elite, arranged for his own "death", paid to have a public memorial service, was already in the mountains when the service was conducted.

It had taken him twenty years to make his irrevocable decision---withdraw and fight the Elite---empower the People.

Perhaps they could be saved with a living Myth---their latent powers of reason having been stunted by the reign of the Elite.

The man had one friend who helped him find his Acolytes---one woman who could still be rational yet play to the People's superstitions---a woman who also had "died" yet decided to travel to another country to pursue her life of freedom.

There were nineteen Acolytes---people of good will and lively belief in the powers of the Tongue of Lightning.

They learned from their Wizard and devotedly instructed the people in calm, patience, and silence---letting them know there was a Plan for their Salvation---a way to escape the strangle-hold of the Elite...

The man had lived in the mountains for nine years---years of calculation, planning, and preparation.

With the help of his Acolytes, he'd obtained all the materials needed to seed the mountains with equipment designed to store some of the electromagnetic energy of passing storms, each bout of severe weather adding to the hidden reserve of power.

He cursed the Elite for their subjugation of the People but was grateful for the beginnings of his scientific training that the society had afforded him.

The beginning of his doubts came when he'd been ordered to stop certain of his investigations---methods for utilizing the energy of sunlight to power the electric grid, having other scientists go so far as to publicly denounce his findings as "bad science"---unsupportable hypotheses that could never be actualized.