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Tempest And The Temple |
| Written by c bryan | |
| Tuesday, 29 January 2008 | |
 The jungle was hot and wet, which is what you’d expect really. However the hot and wet of our imaginations is more of an interesting feature rather than the life-threatening energy-sapping reality that Tempest was faced with. The branches whipped his face as he struggled to follow the overgrown trail that led to the Temple In The Clouds. At least he hoped it led to the temple. His clothes were stuck to him, clinging to his flesh in a cool damp embrace that did nothing to alleviate the heat but served amicably as an agent for chaffing. His skin in places was rubbed raw and any time he did not spend worrying about poisonous snakes or getting lost he spent thinking about infection and tropical diseases. Despite all this, he never once regretted his decision to look for the almost mythical temple. Upwards. He was pretty sure that was a good sign he was following the path in the correct direction, it was leading upwards. Every so often the vegetation would have mercy on his soul and clear from the trail, and he would stumble into a brief haven of open ground. The sun would take the opportunity to renew its offensive on his delicate pale-white skin but Tempest did not care. The relatively cool and fresh breezes that liked to hang around these open spaces brought relief and he would stop and stare back over the tree tops down to the valley below. Sometimes the mists would obscure his view, but usually he would be able to make out the lazy puffs of smoke originating from the villagers cooking fires that he had sat by no more than two days ago. If he turned to look up-slope however his view was always obscured by the crowding foreboding forest that waited patiently to receive him. Not once did he catch any glimpse of a temple. He saw nothing of the temple in fact until the third day. He pushed through the thick growth of an evergreen bush crowned with bright red flowers to find himself once more in an open space, however this space was unlike any he had fallen into previously. It stretched away towards the summit of the mountain Tempest had spent three days ascending, but he was not concerned with that. What he was concerned with was the small building nestled into a natural looking alcove some fifty feet short of the summit. It was round and simple, without any adornment besides one great eye painted above the small, roughly-hewn door. This had to be the place. Tempest approached the temple quietly, not really knowing what he would find. The doorway held no door as such, but the interior of the temple was so dark that no glimpse could be had of what lay beyond. He paused for a moment before its beckoning maw and turned to survey the valley only to find that yet again it was completely obscured. The mists lay thick at this height, and not so distant. The trees through which Tempest had pushed himself fell away into the white ocean no more than half a mile from where he now stood and added to the sensation that this peak and its neighbours were islands in a white and bubbling sea. With one more glance at where he had come from, Tempest turned and stepped through the dark portal beneath the watching eye. He stepped quickly so as to prevent any chance of reconsideration on his part. When his vision adapted to the darker light within he found himself stood in a single room lit by the light coming through the door and two guttering candles against the rear wall. There was no sign of any living person in the Temple Of The Clouds, however a curtain hung on the wall between the candles and Tempest found himself being drawn forward. As he stepped further into the darkness the motes of dust his footfalls disturbed swirled and danced in the beam of sunlight that lanced in from the ever-open doorway.
“Tempest, you will find no answers here...” It said. The voice scratched its way to his ears. Dry and thin, it spoke of age although gave no hint to the emotions behind it. It was not even clear to Tempest’s ears whether the speaker was male or female. Unsure how to answer, Tempest waited in silence. “We do have a question for you though,” the voice continued. “We would like to ask you, why you have come?” Tempest opened his mouth to form a reply but was cut off by the voice speaking for a final time. “We do not want to know the answer! The question is for you and not for us.” Tempest closed his mouth and waited in silence again, however nothing further was said. He waited for ten minutes before walking slowly out of The Temple Of The Clouds. Tempest Peacock surveyed the ocean of clouds beneath his feet before walking over to a raised stone bowl that contained cool and clear water. He refilled his water bottle, thinking all the time about the question that had been put to him. By the time he arrived in the village two days later, wet, exhausted and covered in many small bites and cuts he still did not have an answer, however he did not care as he finally understood the question. Copyright 2008 c bryan |
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