From: intraphase@gmail.com

THE CAVE

Why a warriors challenge? Because only a True Source who had
gone too far: could get a guy into this much trouble.
In the camp on Shining Rock, we had a good fire raised.
The ledge we were camped on was about twenty feet long and jutted
out to The Valley about seven and a half feet; with a bit of a
down slope and some soil that had accumulated over the years.
It was a bit like a table, just enough of a landing for five
warriors and a couple of silly scrub pines; making their futile
trek to the top of the mountain.
I guess if I was a scrub pine, and all the lower ledges on
the mountain had been seized by the more stately Bush pines and
Hard pines: I would have cast my fate to the wind and climbed the
mountain. Even though I felt sorry for these pathetic trees, I
could not let them distract me.
But, if they were offering a windbreak, I was obligated to
defend myself with the Arts of Receiving as they advanced upon my
Sphere with the Arts of Giving.
I was the Leader, it had become obvious now: I was losing
power. They could have no way of knowing, about the mountain top
Four Cornered Foundation, my external behavior hadn’t changed
that perceptibly yet. But they knew.
I didn’t think I was going to die, but they knew, something
had changed.


The years of Water had caved a small rivulet in the ledge:
about five feet from the Wall of the Mountain, so a person could
lie or sit with their back to the mountain, have a drink of the
Pure Water, and gaze into the fire that was placed between the
Scrub pines; at the Valley edge of the Table.
I knew, that they had to do, what they had to do; but never,
ever, ever, would I have expected the sequence of Tactics and
Strategies they would call forth. I was so tired from the top of
the Mountain that I almost lurched into a falsetto imitation of a
third grade teacher speaking words of Enharmonic Contradiction,
as the persona of a typical schoolmarm.
Something to the effect of; ..."Never waste your bullets
killing a man, who’s about to commit suicide." ...If I was just
lucky enough, it might have an unsettling effect on The Warriors.
Which I could build upon: so as to try and gain some insight:
into how events would unfold; and what was to come.

Hallucinogens under all situations and circumstances are a
most risky if not an extremely deadly proposition. This journey
up The Shining Mountain had many months of planning behind it.

I had cautiously acquired the pure extract of a hypnotic
drug by watching the local purveyors of this form of death and
studying their reactions. A small ripple of satisfaction and
judicious commentary had circulated among these frequent
ingestors of hallucinogens. Primarily because they had been
diligently occupied in a lengthy process of acquisition, and
careful extraction of a particular strain. A mix of potent
hallucinatory consequences. I calculated with careful precision:
and relied in the majority, upon the extreme hypersensitive body
chemistry of these long term ingestors and their inability to
mask the deleterious after effects of each individual experience.
After lengthy observation: the choice was made.
While refreshing myself with meats, vegetables and generous
quantities of pure spring water; I had been aware of the lengthy
absence of my entire crew. I had known all but one of my crew
since the earliest days of adolescence, with the exception of my
one favorite; the Wacky Older Brother.
Returning from a short walk away, they rejoined the camp with
a sense of excitement: after having found a small cave directly
below the ledge. Having fixed firmly within my mind the image of
The Table; this was a continuing downward spiral of outcomes. Win
Lose or Draw; what would be, would be.


I knew what a cave, in a place such as this, would have
been used for many times. I was now afraid. I was still tired
from my journey of The Mountain. So be it. I distributed the
hypnotic which had been requested for the journey. Sometimes:
when forced into battle; details can matter above all else.
Sometimes...
The one person who chose not to ingest: would be easily
distinguished from The Others. Were it not for my fatigue from
the passage thru the Four Cornered Foundation, such calculations
would have been a trifling matter. Only one chose not to ingest.
My primary opponent was identified.
Sunset comes fast in the Mountains, the Sun is there, and
it dips below the edge of a distant ridge, and it is gone,
descending instantly into The Night.
Well fed on our little perch, the stars beginning their
rhythmic motion through the darkened sky, a gathering of wood, to
fuel the fire that would warm the night; The Battle was joined.
As we had begun our climb up the Mountain: a delicate waif
of a girl hoisting a small daypack, had seized my attention
momentarily, while moving through the tourist outlooks that serve
as a base; for those who are permitted to ascend beyond the
Treeline. Once having seized my attention she liltingly remarked,
“You’re in for a real treat.” It was not her Word alone: but,
also her manner. Oh well, in for a penny in for pound I thought.


The hypnotic was as expected: subtle, warming, and without a
will of its own. I waited, and as I waited, I recalled her words,
and wondered across Time about the cave below the Table.
If I had known about the Cave, I would not have allowed
myself, The Rapture of The Vista, at the place of protection; I
had called in my mind: The Four Cornered Foundation.
You ever get that feeling, like maybe, just maybe. It’s the
voice of Doubt. Once when I was a boy I would go to the amusement
park, and it was always important not to spend that Last Quarter,
otherwise, you end up walking back home, instead of a leisurely
ride on the bus back to the City. A few times in states of
competitive blissfulness, I spent that Quarter, and walked home.
I was lucky though: I had a brother, and we would only spend that
Last Quarter... Together. That’s the feeling I had; resignation.
I would survive this battle: but at great expense and effort.
When the Sun sets in the Mountains the Mist plays upon the
River of Air. A gentle wash of Mist was moving up the Mountain
across Shining Rock, struggling to make its way across the Peak,
and forward to the Oceans that lie in the Beyond.
Myself; not being a great fan of anything in particular,
I had no clue as to the Moons movement or possible light. As the
Mist rose above the mountains the Moon was slowly winding its
light through the crooked outcroppings of the distant ranges.


[]

The Band - The Weight
https://youtu.be/ccJTFXvkXkA

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* Origin: www.darkrealms.ca (1:229/2)