I : Interviewer.

M : The Mystic of Cascadia

I : So you were going to tell us about the sea battle between Dorain and Xylan, and your role in it?

M : One of the things they teach us at the Mystic’s Temple is how to be a wind mage. This was actually a favorite skill of mine, and by the time I left the temple I was as skilled as any master wind mage at the temple. I was able to out maneuver any other wind mage in the battle and kill all winds that might have been useful to the combatants. The sides were forced to call a truce, which led to talks between the Dorain and Xylan kingdoms. These talks led to a mutual aid pact where if one country attacked the other would come to their aid. Because of my role in the non-battle I was able to represent Cascadia, who eventually joined the pact as well. This has led to an era of peace that has lasted longer than any other in history. It also led to my return to the Temple of the Mystics of Cascadia where I was rewarded with a position created especially for me, Director of the Bureau of Diplomatic Affairs. This position earned me a spot on the kingdoms Council Of Elders, even though I was just twenty-four years old.

The only down side of all this was I was immediately thrown into the vagaries of court politics, a situation I could not tolerate. To get away from all of it I decided to go on a vision quest in the Cascadia Mountains. That is a subject for another day.

I : Interviewer

M : The Mystic of Cascadia

I : So you were forced to go down the Xylan side of the Dragon’s Ridge. What happened when you got to the bottom of the mountains?

M : After a short while picking my way through the forest I came across a fairly large river. I walked along the river bank, following the current, until I came across a village. The people spoke a tongue I’d never heard before, but they also spoke the trading tongue, which allowed me to find out I was considered untrustworthy, maybe a threat, because I’d walked out of the forest. I was taken to see the town council to decide my fate.

The village council consisted of the village elders, some of which were of extreme age. I assume it was the leader of the council that spoke, asking me where I was from and what I was doing here. I told them the truth as telling a lie would of not only been obvious, but would have furthered their suspicions of me. The council talked in their native tongue after I’d given my explanation, and quickly came to a conclusion. The council leader said in the trade tongue, “We have heard of the Mystic of Cascadia. We know you are great healers but also great warriors. Which do you intend to be, for we have use of a skilled healer?”

I answered, “I will gladly fulfill the role of healer, but may be a warrior instead depending on what you intend on doing with me.”

There was more discussion amongst the council and then the leader said, “We will take you to a familiar that has fallen ill. If you can heal them, there will be no need for you to be a warrior.”

And so it came to pass that I started my time as the healer for this remote village. I was kept surprisingly busy for such a small village, but I was glad to have something to occupy myself while I figured out what I was going to do next.

I : And did you come to a conclusion on what to do next?

M : I didn’t have many options. Stay in the village and live out my days as a healer. Continue following the river down to the next village, or to the ocean even. I was offered the role as weapons master for the village which I happily accepted. The people of the village had never had formal weapons training, and they were eager students. But unfortunately I wasn’t able to come to my own conclusion about what to do. Apparently one of the villagers had told a relative from another village about me, and that person told the captain of the guard at the king’s garrison in the village. He sent a patrol to come gather me up and take me to the regional fortress.

There was great tension in the village when the patrol arrived. The villagers were afraid there would be repercussions for not having informed the king’s men of my presence. There were also several youths of age for inscription that were afraid they’d be taken from their homes. The first thing the patrol did was to round me up. They spoke only in their native tongue so I had to guess what they were talking about, which I surmised was doing the one thing the village feared most: the inscription of the next generation of villagers.

When it was clear what the patrol was going to do the council leader came to me and asked if there was anything I could do. I knew what the likely outcome would be, but I told him I’d try. This meant confronting the captain of the patrol about looking the other way when it came to the youth of the village. Needless to say he was not receptive to that idea, so much so he ordered that I should be arrested and taken with them for higher authorities to deal with.

Unfortunately a battle was unavoidable. The two solders who came to arrest me were not expecting me to resist. When I used my staff to prevent them from apprehending me the fight escalated quickly. I didn’t take long for me to hobble both of the solders and to attract the attention of the rest of the patrol. They rushed me from all sides which limited my options. I was forced to use an immobilizing spell, which froze the whole patrol where they stood. At this point I had only one option, and that was to go back into the forest and escape to the mountains. I was going to have to scale the Dragon’s Ridge, something I was hoping to wait until spring to attempt. Now I’d be forced to make the ascent in the middle of winter.

You obviously didn’t successfully scaling the Ridge, what happened?

I actually did eventually scale the Ridge, but I had to make so many different attempts that I was totally confused about where I actually was. When I found a path down the ridge I had no idea if it would lead into Cascadia, or would I end up in different bordering country. The later turned out to be the case. I ended up in the coastal kingdom of Dorain. I eventually walked into a sea port and quickly ran afoul of the kings guard. There was a fortress in the village, not a garrison, so I knew trying to fight my way out of my predicament was not an option. I was arrested, convicted of being a spy, and sentenced to service on a war ship. That’s how I ended up in the middle of the sea battle between Dorain and Xylan. That’s a story for another day.

I met him on the high road, the road to the Mystic’s Temple. It was known that the Mystic traveled this road, but the chances of actually seeing him, or talking to him were very small. I traveled with him for over twenty miles before figuring out who he was. I finally caught on when he made a very interesting comment about something I said. It was looking at a problem from an angle I’d never thought of. From that point on I treated the journey as a pilgrimage. It was the most enlightening experience of my life.

After I’d guessed who he was it took me a while to get up the nerve to speak again. Finally I asked him, “Is there a path to true inner peace?”

“If there is,” he answered, ” I have yet to find it. The best I think you can do is enjoy the moments of peace as they come. Most of the time they come when you wouldn’t expect them to. A moment drinking a cup of tea. Watching clouds being driven by the wind. If you can just accept these moments as they come I think you’ll find they are enough to get you through the times when peace is not possible.”

I’ve tried to follow this advice as best I can. I have found that he was right, that those small moments of peace allow you to endure the most trying of experiences.