The Search for Truth (33 page)

The king said, “Part of me wants to send you back to a safe room in the castle.” He sighed. “I guess there is no castle now, though.”

Erec's cheeks burned. “I'm sorry about that.”

“Completely my fault. My mistake, remember?” King Piter smiled thinly. “Anyway, I want to send you somewhere safe, not let you do this. Try to hook the Awen up myself. But if the Fates did not ask me to do it, my chances would not be good. You are a wise young man, Erec. If anything is holding you back here, if you don't feel up to it, I will take you away from here and protect you. It's very hard for me to see you make this choice.”

Erec thought about his father's offer. He had gotten this far. The Awen and the Twrch Trwyth were only a few feet apart. How could he walk away and let the Awen go back and make those places
miserable again? And not stabilize the Substance for Upper Earth? Everyone there would die in ten years otherwise.

“I'll be fine….” Erec was not sure whether to call him Dad or King Piter. Neither sounded right anymore.

Tears welled in the king's eyes and a half smile lit his face. “At least I won't know what's going on.”

They both turned toward the pit where the Awen rested. The ground trembled beneath them, and a small avalanche bounded down the cliff nearby.

“Will you stay this time?” Erec asked. “I can have two other people with me, remember?”

“Of course I will,” the king assured him. “Not that I'll be any help. But before I let go of this vial, I am instructing my scepter not to let me do anything bad to Erec or the Hermit, or do anything to harm this quest. No spinning you into space….” He laughed. “Sorry about that. I forgot who you were, just didn't like you much for some reason.”

“I know. Thanks…Dad.” It felt good saying that, maybe even more so because there was a chance that he might not see him again. He gave his father a quick hug. “I'll talk to the Hermit, then see what I can do with the Awen.”

When he pulled the Twrch Trwyth away, the king's face grew sour and dazed again. Erec succeeded in putting the Hermit's hand on the vial after a little tugging and a few choice words from the Hermit. But then a grin spread over his face and he began to laugh. “You're alive. And the king has his scepter back. This is wonderful!”

Erec pressed the vial between their palms. “Not so great yet, until I finish this quest without getting killed.”

“So far, so good.” The Hermit tittered.

“Any advice?” Erec asked. “I have no idea how to do this.”

The Hermit shrugged. “No clue.” He grinned joyfully, as if this was the best possible answer.

Why did he think the Hermit would help? “I guess I'll get started then.” Erec pulled the vial away, and the Hermit's gaze grew cold and spacey.

Just to be safe, Erec held the vial tightly while he shoved the large rock off of the pit Melody had made. The open backpack lay underneath. Erec caught a glint of the sparkling colors in it, reminding him there were five Awen. Which should he attempt first? If the Trwyth Boar amplified the Awen's powers, things would get much worse here soon. He imagined the king and the Hermit in a rage like Jam had been in. Unfortunately, he had nothing to tie them down with. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to have them here now after all.

The king had made a bed on the field with his scepter and cuddled in it, sipping cocoa and scowling.

It made sense to connect the Awen of Beauty first. No matter how ugly it made him or his surroundings, at least that wouldn't make it harder to go on. He also decided to do the Awen of Knowledge last. That would be the hardest, and he probably would be unable to do anything after that.

He lifted the backpack from the pit with a stick and pulled out the glowing green dodecahedron. Even though he held the Trwyth Boar in his other hand, everything around him turned scary and awful. The cliff near his side was dark and menacing, ink or blood running down its side. The swirling mists didn't help, distorting everything further. He felt fine, but he gagged when he saw his own hands. They looked like bones and spiky worms with waving feelers jutting from green slime.

Erec lifted the chain off his neck. He held the Awen of Beauty next to the small, pig-shaped glass vial. How did these connect? He touched them together in several places, and nothing happened. Erec tried not to look at his hands, pretended they were someone else's. How much worse could he look when this thing hooked up?

As he slid the Awen around the glass boar vial, a spark jumped suddenly out of the vial. He held the vial still, and a beam of green light burst from one of the pig's feet straight through the Awen of Beauty. The Awen then exploded into the light, becoming part of the green beam that shone brightly far out over the sea.

It had worked. Erec glanced nervously at his hands. He was surprised that they looked fine. No, more than fine. His hands looked spectacular. They had never looked a fraction this nice before. Could the rest of him look that good as well?

All that he could see around him through the fog was radiant with beauty. The king and Hermit looked spectacular as well—a bald Adonis and an aging teen heartthrob. He could not wait to attach the Awen of Sight next, so he could really see what was around him. He grabbed the glowing blue twelve-sided ball next.

But the instant he touched it, he was blinded. Everything turned black. Erec could hear the king grumbling in the darkness. Still, he could feel the Twrch Trwyth in his other hand, and he brought the two together before him. He moved them around each other, but the effort felt futile. How would he be able to tell when they were connected?

After more fumbling, a spark went off in the blackness. Erec held the Awen still, and soon a blinding beam of blue light shot out of another boar foot deep into the evening sky. The Awen of Sight exploded into the light and was gone. The mist on the island cleared. Erec could see again.

More than that, he could see everything. Fish swimming in the bottom of the sea, all the way from here. Distant treetops. If he focused, he could see right through the king to his beating heart and the little white nerves leaving his spinal cord, branching like trees. He squinted into the air and spied the edge of the Earth's atmosphere, right where outer space began.

Everything he saw was spectacular. It was breathtaking. He couldn't stop looking—into the beating wings of a hawk, at the dance of the sand grains under the rhythm of the waves—until finally he remembered there was more to do. He was excited now. This was amazing. How could people have died doing this? Nothing seemed dangerous at all.

What next? One look at the king and Hermit grumbling told him to choose the Awen of Harmony. How could they feel bad in the midst of this beauty?

Before he fished the gleaming red dodecahedron out of the backpack, he braced himself. When he picked it up, with the Trwyth Boar in his other hand, it would make him explode in fury. Would he know enough to handle it?

Erec stopped. Know enough? Of course. He would have to do the Awen of Knowledge first. He started a chant in his head.
Touch these things together. Move them around each other. Touch these things together. Move them around each other.

The moment he grasped the shiny yellow ball, he stared off in a daze. No thoughts or questions troubled his mind. Everything around him was so beautiful. He just wanted to look at it.

But he kept hearing a chant.
Touch these things together. Move them around each other. Touch these things together. Move them around each other.
What things? He had things in his hands he supposed.
Touch these things together. Move them around each other.

He put his hands together and moved them around each other. Soon, this touched off a spark. A beam of yellow light burst from the glass boar's snout, and the Awen of Knowledge blew up, fusing with the beam and forming a huge bright yellow spotlight on the cliff side.

Everything was clear. Perfectly clear. Knowledge filled him—everything he'd ever wanted to know.

In that moment, Erec realized that if he had chosen the Awen of Harmony first, he would have died.

Erec marveled at the beauty of how everything had been put together. He understood now why he had been picked for this task, the choice he would have to make, and he wondered what he would end up deciding. Life itself seemed to spread out before him, unraveling all its mysteries. Any small problem he might have had, any concept he might not have understood, were child's play now.

He regarded the king and the Hermit, who were snarling at each other, with compassion, as if they were tiny children. The Hermit understood more, and even though both were sharper now that the Awen of Knowledge was connected, they were so unaware. He even felt pity for Baskania, his never ending search for complete power, and what it had done to him.

It was time to attach the Awen of Harmony, before King Piter and the Hermit started fighting.

He knew exactly what to do. This would be the hard one, of course. That was clear now. People in the past had either picked this one early, and killed themselves in anger, or picked it after the Awen of Knowledge and destroyed themselves and everyone around them when their perfect knowledge mixed with perfect hate.

This is why Erec had been chosen, he knew now. Only he could possibly protect himself from the red Awen. There was only one way to block its complete hate. And that was complete love. He had to bring his dragon eyes out.

It was easier than ever to turn his eyes around. Love surrounded him. The beauty of the earth. His father trying his best. Dragons, dragon eyes, Bethany. Love filled his every pore, pumped with every beat of his heart. He was ready.

Thick white nets of Substance hung around the Awen and the Twrch Trwyth. Of course this part of the island would have more
Substance than the rest of Upper Earth. The Awen was collecting it, but only the Twrch Trwyth could secure it.

He grasped the sparkling red Awen of Harmony. Its power surged from its closeness to the Trwyth Boar. Waves of fierce hatred raged through him. Life was a sham, a rotten tragedy with pathetic saps playing the clueless actors. Everyone should die a merciful death, get out of this pigsty.

But he was ready. Love fought back. The Substance itself filled him with a love so deep it melted his anger. He saw the wonder in the tiniest insects, the grand cliffs before him. He could feel his dragon eyes fighting the rage that seared through him. Hope made him bring the red Awen close to the Twrch Trwyth.

But hatred began to take over. He was tired of being a pawn in the sick game the Fates were playing, pushing him across a painful, rotten board until he turned into a king. What then? Ruin his life with the scepter? Rule over the pathetic peons who were all selfish, mean, and power mad themselves? Why bother? Where was the good in it?

One look at the king made him want to hurl the red Awen straight into his face. What a mess he had made of Erec's whole life. What was it with him and these “mistakes”? He just sauntered along, destroying everyone else, and Erec had to deal with it? Not this time. Erec would put the red Awen in the king's hands, make him hold it, show him what it was like to deal with mistakes.

The hate was winning. Only a long look at the Substance, absorbing its beauty, kept his dragon eyes from turning back into his head. Love poured out again.

He could feel the two forces inside of him: the love battling the hate. Sharp emotions flared in him one way, then the other. He tried to focus on love, but then hate would start to conquer him again.

Love.
Sometimes the word resonated, echoed deep inside. Other
times it felt like an empty promise. Erec did not know how long he sat there, fighting himself. Every time he began to bring the red Awen close to the Twrch Trwyth his anger would spiral.

Love.
He focused on June, Bethany, the dragons. Finally, in a burst of hope, he turned his love inward. He loved his hatred. Loved himself for it. Loved his anger. Accepted it fully. Loved all the terrible things that his hate pointed out to him. Loved the pain, the stupidity, just because they were real and there, and it was all a part of him anyway. He could feel love surrounding the hate, covering it like a shield.

And when he tried to bring the Awen to the Twrch Trwyth, this time he could do it. He slid it around until a beam of red light shot from the boar's tail, far into the woods. The red Awen exploded into the light.

At last Erec understood the meaning of the word “peace.”

K
ING PITER GRINNED
and the Hermit laughed. “You did it!” the Hermit said. They broke into applause, making Erec laugh so hard his stomach hurt.

“I'm not done yet,” he said.

The king looked around in wonder. “It's beautiful here.”

Erec agreed. The gray of the sky matched the eyes of his birth mother, Hesti. Skylarks swooped in perfect swan dives. No
choreographer could plan a more perfect dance. The tips of the heather danced in perfect time to the beat of the wind, the harmony of the waves, the music of the Substance, and the rhythm of his own heart.

Every ounce of hatred had seeped out of him, leaving him tired but filled with complete love and understanding. He could feel a deep connection to his father, the Hermit, and the universe itself.

The last Awen would be easy, he knew. “Ready for a little rumble?” he said with a grin.

Erec fished the black Awen of Creation from the backpack. He would have little time, so he moved fast. As soon as he grasped the shiny black dodecahedron with etched symbols on its twelve faces the earth crumbled beneath him. Giant boulders bounced down the mountain, and the cliff side erupted into a shower of falling rock.

Erec's hands worked swiftly together until he saw a flash. A beam of white light broke from one of the boar's feet, and the Awen of Creation melted away into it. The rumbling stopped. No more chunks fell around him. Everything was still.

Deep in a pit, Erec slipped the Trwyth Boar chain back around his neck. Five beams of light shot from it: white, red, blue, yellow, and green, forming big glowing circles on the dirt around him. A few thin rays of light shone from above, through the rocks and dirt that had caved in over him.

Right where the beam of white light was shining, small green sprouts began to pop out from the dirt. The Awen of Creation, he thought. The most miraculous Awen of all. He could spend years just watching what it could do.

But, for now, best to climb out of the pit and let his father and the Hermit know he was okay. Getting out was much easier than it would have been in the past. The Awen of Knowledge in the Twrch Trwyth told him everything he needed to know. It was like having a
permanent cloudy thought, but he didn't have to turn into a dragon to know what to do.

He pushed the right rocks at the right angles and climbed out of the pit without a problem.

The king and the Hermit were overjoyed to see him. Erec was astounded. Rocks, boulders, and raw dirt littered the ground, but the land looked even more beautiful than any he had ever seen. He could live like this.

King Piter clapped his back. “Well done.” Then he peered at Erec's chest with curiosity. “Your Amulet hasn't changed yet.”

“I know,” Erec answered. “I haven't completed the quest yet.”

The king was confused. “But…it seems like you did a pretty good job to me.”

“He still has a decision to make,” the Hermit said.

It was true. Erec was not sure what he would choose. The decision he had to make was crystal clear to him. He could either plant the Twrch Trwyth deep in the ground, where it would burrow its way down to the Earth's core and stabilize the Substance.

Or he could keep it.

 

Erec sat on the rocky shore, gazing far across the sea. With his boosted vision, he could see deep into the woods of Avalon, then spot a squid on the ocean floor. This was the hardest decision he had ever faced. It meant everything to him. It was his life.

He knew what both options would bring, of course. The Awen of Knowledge made that clear. His choice was simple yet so hard to make. If he buried the Twrch Trwyth, he would be his old self again. A little headstrong, sometimes bumbling, but meaning well. He would not remember all the answers that he knew now. It would be a much smaller life, less meaningful, less beautiful. He would not be able to watch each wave swell and see the perfection in it.

If he kept the vial, he would move to a cave. He would want to live in nature, to best study how things grow. Every moment of the rest of his life—and his life would be much longer if he wore the Twrch Trwyth—would be an exercise in amazement. The things he could discover and bring to light would change the world.

And the Substance? That didn't really matter either way. Whatever he decided, it should be fine. He knew how to fix it now. That would be easy to do if he kept the Twrch Trwyth, since he'd have all the knowledge. Sure, burying the Awen would stabilize the Substance, keep the problem from getting worse. But it would not fix it. There was only one thing that would do that.

But he knew either choice he made should be okay. If he buried the vial, and lost the knowledge of how to fix the Substance, the Fates should help him figure it out through his quests. So that wasn't an issue.

Life would not be easy if he gave up the vial. The trials he would have to face were more than any one person should have to bear. But now he could see the beauty in that, too. The perfection of not knowing, of going through life with each day a surprise, an unfolding mystery.

Was this all about him? Well, it really was. People would die either way, unfortunately. He did not like to think about that. More mistakes would be made by more people. But that was a part of mortal existence. He could never change that. He was happier thinking about how life, in general, would improve with either choice he made, once the Substance was taken care of.

He wasn't sure he could really give up the Twrch Trwyth. Give up knowing the workings of the universe, feeling its harmony, seeing its spectacular beauty. That would be next to impossible. If he did, then he would fall back under the spell of that silly scepter again, he knew. The magic of the scepter paled in comparison to what he had now. Who needed to “do” things, mess with yourself or others, when all this wonder was before them? Power? There was no limit
to the power of the universe that he was one with now. But it was a peaceful power, a complete thing, not the searing addictive power of the scepter.

He had no questions, no misgivings. It was just a choice. Just one that would change everything forever. There were no right or wrong answers.

But there was one thing he kept coming back to. With the Twrch Trwyth he would live in all-encompassing love, knowing, understanding, and accepting. It would be wonderful. Without it, he would be like a child, his love, disappointments, grief, and fears mingling with hope, pride, and amazement.

Monks and mystics everywhere spent their whole lives trying to attain what he had now. But which way did he choose to exist? To be a peaceful, happy observer of the world, or a cog in its mucky, magnificent wheel, a simple link in its spectacular chain? Peaceful observation or spectacular immersion?

So he made his choice. And he smiled because the Fates had known all along what he would choose.

He wished there was more wisdom that he could leave for himself, but he knew that only certain things would be okay to let himself know. So he asked King Piter for his notepad and a pen. “The notepad is in your jacket pocket, Father. And I'd like the pen in your shirt pocket, not your Aitherpoint quill.”

The king turned pale, but took out the pad and pen.

Erec wrote a note to himself, chuckling.

 

Erec,

Congratulations on your decision. You have picked the harder path, and for that I am proud of you. But it is the better path in the end. I'd like to leave you with a few words of wisdom. Use them as you will.

Choose the blue Awen ball first. The yellow one would be a disaster.

Give your father a hug. Forgive him for his mistakes. We all make them.

Things may look bleak at times, but never forget the love you brought forth today. If you could win over the hate of the red Awen with that love, you can win over anything.

Nothing can stop Oscar. It's written in the fabric of time. So just help him.

Give Bethany a kiss. You'll know when the time is right.

Put the coat on the coat rack.

There is good to be found everywhere, even in evil. And you can learn in the dark.

Sit Jam down and tell him how great he is and how much you care for him. He will protest and squirm, but keep going on and on until he looks like he'll faint.

No matter what happens, remember that this was a grand adventure and a wonderful experiment.

And most important, but most difficult, trust yourself.

Love, Erec

 

Tears rolled down his face as he walked back to the pit. He was not ready to give up the Twrch Trwyth, but he never would be ready. Using it longer would only make it harder. He cried for the tadpoles he would never really see, for the raindrops he'd never explore, for the life he was giving up.

Erec held the small glass vial shaped like a boar over the pit. Five bright-colored spotlights shone from it. It was spectacular.

He let it go.

 

The earth parted as the Twrch Trwyth fell, swallowing it up. The ground closed over it. Erec hung his head, feeling the great loss. Then he collapsed.

 

The Hermit thought Erec's letter to himself was a comedy sketch. He laughed so hard he rolled on the ground, slapping his knees, eyes watering. The king found it interesting but was as mystified as Erec about most of what he had written. “The coat and the coat rack?”

Erec shrugged. Kiss Bethany? He didn't know about that, either. But he did give King Piter a big hug. “I'm glad to know who my dad is now. Aoquesth said some pretty great things about you.”

The king hugged Erec back, a big grin on his face. “Hey, look.” He pointed at his chest. “A fourth segment is lit up on your amulet.”

Erec lifted the Amulet of Virtues off his chest. A fourth segment glowed a sunny yellow. He was curious what the symbol written on it meant, so he brought his dragon eyes forward. It was easier than ever to make his eyes turn around now. All it took was just a memory, really, of all that love.

“Knowledge?” He was confused. “I have the virtue of knowledge? I don't think so. I just threw all that knowledge into a pit.”

The Hermit cocked his head. “You forget, Erec. You once knew everything. That sets you apart, you know. All your past and all your future is inside you, in that little black box. It holds all the answers now. That is something that will be a part of you forever.”

Erec frowned. “You mean inside that black box I still understand everything in the universe?”

“We all do,” the Hermit said. “But not like you. You have it all spelled out in there, crystal clear.”

Hmm. Erec wondered what he would choose to show himself the next time he looked into his future with his dragon eyes. At least he could trust that he'd show himself the right things, since that black box now had all the answers.

 

The Hermit giggled and bent over the lump of ground that had been a huge rift moments earlier. It had healed over, and already a raft of tiny sprouts were growing there. “A little light is shining from here.” He picked something up from a tall tuft of grass. “Someone left you a present, Erec.”

Erec walked over. In the Hermit's hand lay the glass Trwyth Boar vial, only now it was empty. But attached to three of its feet were tiny blue, green, and black balls. A red one was attached to its tail and a yellow one to its snout. He thought he could see tiny symbols on little faces around the balls, like tiny dodecahedrons.

“But why was this left here? I dropped it into the pit. It was supposed to fall to the center of the earth.”

“It looks like you knew about it before, though.” The Hermit giggled, tapping Erec's letter to himself.

Choose the blue Awen ball first. The yellow one would be a disaster.

“I don't get it,” Erec said. “What does it mean to choose the blue one first?” He felt stupid, not knowing something that he fully understood just moments earlier. “I don't know what these things do.”

“Oh, yes you do, silly Erec Rex.” The Hermit slapped him on the back. “You know better than anyone.”

Erec played with the vial and saw that the balls were attached to the glass boar by tiny stems. “If I break one off, it will do something….” If he only knew what.

“Exactly.” The Hermit nodded. Erec put the chain around his neck alongside his amulet, where it had been before.

 

King Piter stepped through the rubble of the Castle Alypium, tears in his eyes. Erec felt terrible.

“I'm so sorry about all this,” Erec said. “I should have listened to you. You told me again and again, but I thought I knew better.”

As annoyed as he had been with King Piter, Erec realized how
his father had been right all along. Erec was not ready to take over as king yet. He still had a lot to learn. And King Piter was not ready to lose his power. The people of Alypium still needed him watching over them, whether they knew it or not.

The king's eyes were wet. “My plants…”

It seemed odd that the king was more concerned about some plants that might have died than the devastation before them. Smashed shards of pottery urns mingled in the dust with crystal fragments and splintered wooden floorboards. Mangled tapestries wound around crushed gargoyles.

Erec felt terrible. “Are you sure you can't fix it again?”

“It's unfixable,” the king said sadly. “I can clean it up, though. That will be one of the last things I'll do with the scepter.”

The thought made Erec uncomfortable. Had he stripped his father of that much power? “Why is that?”

“The castle was a big part of me, stabilizing me. It let me do great things with the scepter and not be as influenced by it. I'm at much greater risk carrying it now and using it.”

“Can't you make another castle with it?” Erec asked.

“No.” The king smiled kindly. “That was only possible once. Too much of me went into it. There's just not enough left.”