Red Leaves and the Living Token

chapter SIX





Emret woke to shouting and footsteps outside his and Moslin's small cabin. Men ran back and forth, pounding on the wooden planks of the boat's narrow corridor below deck.

Moslin sat up, "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Emret answered.

The lock on the heavy door of their cabin clacked, then their door slammed open. One of the processional clerics stuck his head in. "Stay in here, don't make any noise!" He commanded. Moslin and Emret both nodded their head before he shut and relocked the door.

A moment later, a storm of heavy boots pounded down wooden stairs. Muffled through the walls, they heard a man yelling, frantically. It sounded like it was the processional cleric they'd just spoken to. "You must leave this ship immediately. You have no right to board!" He screamed.

The pounding boots continued unabated, turning down the noisy corridor outside their cabin.

"Stop!" The Cleric demanded.

A nearby Cabin door slammed open. "Please, step outside the cabin," a stern voice demanded. Two more cabin doors slammed open. "Please, move above deck!"

Their cabin door shook with a loud thud as something hit up against it. "This is an outrage! I will not stand for it!" The Cleric yelled, his voice right outside their cabin. "The Holy Master Cleric himself will be notified immediately. This will not go unpunished, I promise you!"

"The Holy Master Cleric?" The stern muffled voice asked with a laugh. "He ordered the search!"

Their door lock clicked. Moslin reached over and took Emret's hand. He looked back at her.

"We'll be OK," He told her with confidence.

The door opened. Two large Botann Soldiers stepped into the room. After eying the Botann woman and Zo child, the second soldier leaned his head back into the corridor and yelled, "Commander!"

A moment later another Botann solider, his uniform indicating a higher rank, pushed into the crowded room. He smiled at Moslin and Emret, "I believe we've been looking for you!"

Moslin and Emret exchange worried glances.



-



Emret wiggled around the side of one soldier and then squirmed back to the other side. How frustrating, he thought. He couldn't see a thing except the tall backs of the soldiers and the high walls of a strangely decorated building.

Moslin reached down and took his hand.

"Where we going?" He asked, looking up at her for reassurance.

They passed under an incredibly tall door way. Then without warning, the crowd of soldiers split apart revealing an enormous room that expanded out in front of them. Emret scanned the room from side to side, trying to take it all in. He’d never seen anything like it. It was so big and fancy, it was something you read about but never actually see in person. Every inch of every wall was painted in brilliant patterns of swirling color. On top of that, framed paintings the size of murals hung above lavish couches that lined the edges of the room. The ceiling was painted too. It looked like the sky but in a sort of decorative way.

Sculpted trees rose up to the ceiling in regular intervals in between murals and furniture. Instead of being planted in pots above the floor the trees seemed to grow up out of the floor itself. In fact the more Emret studied the room, the more the ornate moldings along the corners and crown of the room all seemed to flow out of the large trees. It was as if they were extensions of a large root system that had some how grown into the walls of the building.

At the far wall of the room, a Botann man sat at his desk, completely dwarfed by the enormous trees and room. He could’ve fit a hundred desks in the room and still had plenty of space between them. Several men and women rushed to and away from the desk, caring papers. One of these men, coming from the desk, stopped and signaled to the soldiers who standing on both sides of Emret and Moslin.

One of the soldiers turned to face them. "You may now approach his Holiness."

Fear gripped Emret. His Holiness? He didn't know who that was, but it sounded important. Was that what happened to run away children? They were brought to his 'holiness' for punishment? The whole situation reminded him of being escorted to his father’s study where he was informed of how unpleasant his life would become over the next few days.

They approached the large dark wooden desk. The elderly Botann man sitting at the desk looked up at them. His Botann skin was unusually lumpy, leaving large pits and bulges all over his face. He smiled, the bulges of his cheeks protruding even further.

"Welcome, my friends.” He said, raising his hands in polite gesture, “I hope the eager young boys weren't to rough in bringing you here."

Moslin leaned forward, "No, your holiness. They were very courteous."

"Good." He eyed them intently. "Moslin, correct?"

"Yes," she answered.

"I know your father, he's a very devout man. Especially considering the conditions in which you both live. I'm going to speak frankly with you for a moment.” He tapped his wide leafy fingers on the desk. “We currently find our selves in a rather dire situation. One, in fact, that you could say strikes to the very core or our faith. I'm hoping that you and this young boy might be able to help us."

"Of course, your Holiness," she responded in earnest.

"I need to know the nature of your visit. And the reason for the false pretense of your travel arrangements." He said.

"We came to seek medical treatment not available in Pipfe. For Emret," she added.

"You couldn't arrange the treatment through the boy's doctors? Where are his parents?" He asked.

"His doctors wouldn't consent to the treatment." She looked down Emret before adding, softly, "and neither would his father."

The wrinkled old man grunted, "Hardly justifies taking the boy. And who gave you authority to make decisions on his behalf?"

"She didn't," Emret answered. "She's here because I asked her to come. I would've come alone."

The Holy Master Cleric leaned forward to get a better look at the boy. Several of the advisers surrounding them muttered quietly.

"He's a very determined young man," she commented.

"So it would appear," the Holy Master Cleric acknowledged.

"Without this treatment he..." She glanced down at Emret. He caught her glance. He knew she was uncomfortable talking about it. But he didn't see the point. He was in trouble, and something needed to be done about it. Simply avoiding the topic didn't help him feel better.

"Most unfortunate. I will pray for you and the hands of our doctors. With which hospital have you made arrangements?" He asked.

"Well... The treatment is actually religious in nature. That's why his father and his doctors refused to allow it."

He sat back in his chair, surprised. "Religious? What sort of religious, medical treatment?"

She hesitated, A bit embarrassed. Emret watched her. He didn't understand why she was having a hard time talking about what they came to do.

He'd answer if she wouldn't. "We came to see Red Leaves to ask to be healed."

The men standing about the desk glanced back and forth at each other, puzzled. One started chuckling. Then another. Finally, the entire room was laughing.

Moslin shrunk back, trying to hide, as if the entire room were laughing at her. Emret wheeled his chair in front of her. “Why were they laughing?” He didn’t understand.

The Holy Master Cleric calmed himself. "I apologize. I appreciate your humility. Only the truly humbled would ever be permitted to see Red Leaves. If anyone would be allowed to see him, it would be the two of you, I'm sure."

He turned to the immense wall sized painting behind his over-sized desk. It depicted a large Tree with light emanating from its red leaves. Botann men and women dwarfed by the size of the tree knelt towards it with their heads bowed in reverence.

Moslin, still upset, followed his gaze. Emret scowled at the old man. The painting made their reaction even more confusing.

The Holy Master Cleric stood up. "You have to understand my young friends. Our beloved RED with his leaves of light and life hasn't been touched in over a thousand years."

He walked to a wall of windows on the east side of the room. The crowd moved to follow behind.

Looking out the windows, Emret was in awe at the immense plaza that opened up below him. Tiny dots of people scurried about while others crowded together motionless. In the center of the plaza was a walled off section with nothing in it but sandy dirt, without a single plant growing in it.

The tiny dots of people collected around the border of the protective wall. They seemed to be pushing in to get as close to the wall as possible.

The Holy Master Cleric in his silken robes, pointed to the walled off earth and explained, "Red Leaves is no longer with us. A thousand years of history tends to blur the details, but the most credible account contends that he was cut down as the first act of the great war."

He turned back to Moslin. "Surely your father taught you this history?"

"No. He did not," she answered, trying to hide her emotion. Tears had already formed at the edges of her eyes.

Emret stared at the empty square of dirt with in the walls. He tried not to think about what this meant. He tried to force it from his mind. His heart started to sink. He closed his eyes. What was he going to do? What was he going to do! He slouched down in his wheel chair.

Moslin watched the boy. "May we visit the wall?"

"Of course." He answered.

"I'm sorry we couldn't be of more help with your critical situation," she told him.

"It is a burden I hope you'll never have to worry about. Again, I apologize for having brought you here by force. Under the circumstances, it was unavoidable."

Suddenly his soft disposition turned cold. "You weren't given anything to help you find Red Leaves were you?" He asked sternly.

She responded, "No. I wasn't aware that I would have to look any further than where I stand now."

He nodded his head, apparently satisfied with the answer.



-



Moslin and Emret wandered through the crowded plaza, a wall of red stone rising up in the background. Emret kept his eyes to the decorated tile ground. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. He couldn't look at the people in the plaza. Above all, he could not bear to look at the dead spot of earth where he should have found life.

“I don't want to see it.” He told her.

She stopped his wheel chair and knelt down in front of him, bringing herself down to his eye level. “Emret, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say.” Tears welled in her eyes. She took him in a tight embrace.

"We'll figure this out. I promise."

He looked up at her for the first time. "How?" Tears fell down his cheeks.

But then, through his blurry tear streaked vision, he saw something. Something past all the people. Something beyond the wall. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

There appeared to be a faint red glow above the wall. It looked as though it was coming from behind. He squinted. Was something there? No. He was seeing things. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, then looked again. This time he noticed a slender branch of a tree, twisting and turning into the air, just above the wall’s top trim.

"Moslin, look!" He pointed.

She turned around. "What?"

"I see it!"

She studied the wall where he was pointed then turned back to him, confused. "See what?"

"It's there! It's still there!" He pushed his wheel chair around her. "I can see it."

She stood up as he raced his chair on ahead. "Honey!" She called after him.

As Emret got closer to the wall, he could see more of the brightly glowing branches. A collage of brilliantly red leaves sprang up out of them.

Moslin chased after him.

"It's just like I imagined. So beautiful!" He shouted to her. The Tree now extended well above the wall. Its branches dense with the vibrant leaves.

Emret stopped at the wall. Not able to get any closer, he turned and followed the perimeter of the stone wall as it cornered around, hoping to find a hole or crack. Moslin dodged in and out of the thick crowd of people trying to keep up with him.

Finally, he found what he was looking for. The wall ended abruptly, leaving a sizeable ten foot section where there was nothing but an iron fence between him and the red earth. For the first time he saw the entire tree in all its radiant beauty. It's trunk and limbs swam with dazzling patterns of light. It almost hurt to look at it. He stared up at it in amazement. He'd never seen anything so incredible.

Moslin caught up to him. "Are you OK?" She followed his gaze, turning to the iron fence and the empty spot of red earth beyond." I thought you didn't want to see it?"

"Help me up," he asked her without breaking his gaze from the Tree.

"You sure?" She asked.

He nodded.

She bent down and helped him out of his chair. He put his weight on his wobbly legs. "Help me to the fence," he asked.

She supported his shoulder as he took step after careful step, finally reaching the fence. He took it in both hands. Then slowly worked his way to the space where the iron fence met the stone wall.

There was a gap. Just enough for a small boy to squeeze through. Before Moslin figured out what he was doing, he pushed his shoulder through, then quickly slid in the rest of his body.

Moslin gasped. "No!" She yelled.

The crowd ignited into a roar of screams and hisses. A guard standing ideally, by jumped to attention and darted towards the fence.

Emret stepped wobbly forward then fell to his knees below the dazzling red tree. A low lying branch hung down inches in front of him. He reached up high above his head. Straining to reach the delicate limb. Everything went silent in his mind as his finger neared the tender branch. This was his life returning to him. He sucked in a last breath as his finger glided into the surface of the tree.

But his finger didn't stop. It passed right through the branch. There was no substance. It wasn't real!

In that instant, his normal sight ended and a new sight began. He saw himself somewhere else, on a mountain side in deep underbrush, Moslin standing next to him. There was a strange object in front of him that glowed with a brilliant white light. He leaned forward to get a better look. Lying in the soft ferns was a tiny white stone carving of the majestic tree he had just been standing in front of.

He reached up to touch it, but before his body could respond, his vision pulled back as though there was a cord tied around his waist. In an instant, he was back in the plaza. But then, in front of him, across the plaza, on the mountain side far in the distance he could see something glowing. It was a tiny bright spot of light shining like a beacon.

His awareness returned to the walled square of red earth beneath him, to the radiant and beautiful tree he had reached up to touch. Only, there was no tree. His hand was raised, and nothing was in front of it. The square was empty.

With that his body gave, and he collapsed.



-



Emret woke under the warm covers of an adult sized bed. Moslin, sitting in a chair next to him, put down her book. "How you feeling?" She asked.

"A little dizzy." He looked around the strangely decorated room. It looked to him like what her bedroom might look like. Religious paintings and drawings. Botann iconography. An image of the Holy Master Cleric. The room even had two room height trees in opposite corners. Like the larger version, he’d seen earlier these trees too seemed to flow into the make up of the room. "Where are we?" He asked.

"Before we left I made arrangements for us to stay with a good friend of my fathers. After the episode in the plaza, he came and helped me get you home." "What happened?"

"What happened? You trespassed onto one of the most sacred places in the Botann faith, almost started a riot and came this close," she pinched her fingers together, "to being killed by the guards on duty. I don't suppose you noticed the large, do not cross, signs before you squeezed through the fence? Or the fact that there was a 10 foot high stone wall around almost the entire ground?" He let out a heavy breath. "I'm sorry. I..." He looked away, avoiding her eyes. He wasn't ready to talk about what he saw. He wasn't comfortable himself with what he saw. "What were you doing?"

He glanced up at her long enough to see the anger and frustration on her face. How could he explain that all he cared about was getting to that tree. He would've done anything to get to it. He was looking at his life being restored to him. Just over that wall. Just within reach. Wouldn't she have done the same? "You put both of us in jeopardy. We're lucky we're not both in a cell right now. Literally. My father's friend worked a miracle getting us released," she explained. He gulp in a quick breath. "I thought I saw... I thought..."

"You thought what?"

He rubbed his hands together. How could she be so cruel?

Her angered glare softened. "Oh." She put a hand on his. "You thought you saw... Him?" He nodded.

"I'm sorry. I knew what happened was overwhelming. I didn't realize..." She scooted over the bed and took him in a tight hug. "Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head.

"You know, I meant what I said. We'll figure this out."

He nodded, still hanging his head low. "Would you take me somewhere before we go home?" "Sure." She cocked her head and smiled. "OK." She studied him, not sure what to make of his request. "There's a mountain to the south of the city. I need to go up the second canyon a little ways." She chuckled. "You need to go to the mountains? Really?"

"Yes I'm serious." He said.

She stopped laughing and stared at him, confused. "Why?"

"I can't tell you."

"You can't tell me? She shook her head and muttered to herself, "great!"

The door creaked open after a quiet knock. An older Botann man with dark robes poked his head in. "Moslin, I have a moment now if you'd like to talk." "Yes, thank you." She said then stood up. "We'll talk more about it later, OK?" She turned before slipping out the door. "Get some more rest." Emret pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. On his knees he carefully hobbled over to the door and pushed his ear quietly up against the wood. Sure enough, he could hear them talking. Moslin's voice was faint but still understandable. "I wanted to ask you about something the Holy Master Cleric had asked me. He wanted to know if we'd found something to help us find Red Leaves." "Hmmmm...," He mumbled.

"First of all, I now have the understanding that the Red Leaves hasn’t been seen for a thousand years? "Right," He added.

"What could he be referring to then? How could we have something that could lead us to something that doesn't exist?" He admitted, "Does seem a bit puzzling. I'm not sure what his Holiness might've been referring to." He paused. "Did he talk at all about the Red Leaves return?” He asked.

"Return? No, he didn't say anything about that," she admitted.

"There are writings from the time that Red Leaves was destroyed that warned of the three Reds imminent return. It said, on that day they’d avenge their betrayal and desecration. They'd deliver justice to those who destroyed them and grant redemption to their defenders." "I think we're all inclined to believe justice will be delivered to our Nemeses. We all blame each other for the great war. Not until the Reds finally return will anyone really know who committed the destruction." "But what was the Holy Cleric worried I might've found?" She asks.

"That I don't know. It's unlikely he said that because he believes the Reds have actually returned." "More than likely he saw an opportunity in your story. If someone professed to be looking for Red Leaves and had something to give their search credibility, it could be used to persuade the people. It could be used to say the Reds have chosen the Botann, or the Zo, or the Petra with whom to reveal themselves. It could draw concrete lines of just and unjust. The chosen people and the un-chosen. That could lead to another war. Troubling." "What would give credibility to someone searching?"

"A claimed miracle with witnesses. Or a religious relic. Or even better, a combination of the two, a relic said to have been created by a miraculous event. Something with a good story behind it." "You my friend," he continued, "have a compelling story. He painted a picture in the air with his hands. "A dying boy seeking to be healed by the long lost Reds, risks his life by sneaking into the sacred grounds because he believed he saw Red Leaves still growing there." "If you had any other legitimizing factor thrown on top of that you could become a powerful tool to the politically motivated. After the young man's stunt yesterday, it would not be difficult for someone in power to turn you into the catalyst they're looking for." "That being said, I would suggest you take the boy home as quickly as possible. They will do you no favors here."



-



Moslin climbed out of the Botann carriage and stepped down onto the uncut wooden boughs of the river port boardwalk. Emret stayed in his seat and watched as the driver lifted his wheel chair off the storage racks and handed it down to her.

He turned his attention back to the inside of the carriage. He’d have to admit, it was rather impressive, entirely unlike anything he’d seen in Pipfe. Rather than cutting and bending the dead wood to fit a design, it looked as though they had trained the tree to grow into the shape they wanted. But what was truly impressive was how well they were able to do that. The branches all flowed in the same direction, circling around the rims of the windows and doors, curving up and fitting in with others to form the ceiling. It fit right in with everything else Botan that he’d seen so far. He liked how they made things.

Moslin stepped up to the carriage door and held a hand out for him to take. "We really need to get back." She explained.

He turned his head away and let out an angry grunt.

"Going up into the mountains, a woman by herself with a sick child, is a terribly dangerous idea." She said, then waited for a response. Emret didn’t give in.

"It's simply out of the question!" She finished.

The driver hopped down from the upper rack. "I'm sorry, my boy" He said as he reached up and lifted Emret out of his seat and handed him to Moslin. "I have to be going."

Moslin set him down in his wheel chair."

"So that's it then?" He pounded his fist on the chair armrest. "We're giving up? So I should just be quiet and not make a fuss while you take me home to die?" He glared at her. "You sound like my father?"

"Maybe your father was right to begin with." She said.

He couldn't believe her. This was completely ridiculous. She brought him this far, she was so resolved to help him. And now? He turned his chair around and pushed into the crowd rushing back and forth along boardwalk.

"Emret! Wait." She followed. "You're not being fair. I mean, I brought you half way across the continent looking for help. If I had any idea where else to take you I would. But... I was wrong, and it wasn’t there. There’s nothing here to take you too," she finished, her voice trembling with emotion. "I don't know what else to do."

He clenched his fist. She doesn't know what else to do? He told her what else they could do. She's not listening. "Fine. You don't have to go. I'll take myself."

She grabbed the handle on the back of the chair. "Emret! Would you please tell me what's up in the mountains that's so important? How could you possibly know anything about the mountains here to begin with? You haven't talked to anybody but me?"

He wheeled his chair around.

"When I touched the lowest branch of the tree it took me there." He pointed behind them, "to that mountain side and showed me a little white stone sitting in the forest."

Several people in the crowd slowed down and looked at the boy as they passed. Another stopped completely.

"It was glowing like the sun. I could hardly look at it."

Moslin gave the gawking pedestrians a dirty look then grabbed Emret's chair from behind and wheeled him away.

He turned in his seat to face her. "I can't go home yet."

"OK." She half shouted as she tightened her grip on the back of the chair. "If I take you up there we're going straight home after wards. No complaining."

He nodded, "If it leads to nothing, I'll go home."

She lets out a frustrated sigh. "I can't believe I'm doing this."