Mystery Mountain

Snowchester Manor was a quaint village nestled near majestic snow-capped mountains at higher elevations in Eastern Europe. The mountains that surrounded the manor were once known as the Mystical Mountains. It was said that in these mountains there lived mystical creatures who possessed magical powers, but for Oliver Darkwood, a 17-year-old, had a tale, a story was far more than just an old wives’ tale.

Standing five foot seven inches tall and weighing 150 pounds, Oliver was almost grown. His dusty brown hair was what set him apart from all of the other people in the manor. He wore it long, mid-shoulder length, as most of the men who lived in the valley beneath the shadows of the peaks that reached into the heavens. It was said he was cursed by the spirits in the mountain, but Oliver knew what had happened when he was only a young child of nine years old.

His life was that of a peasant. He didn’t have the skills or inclination to become a knight, besides, where he lived in the manor, his time was spent farming and tilling the land for the master. Yet, for Oliver, he remembered a time when things weren’t as boring, weren’t as uneventful as they were now. He stood in the pasture land, a field located near the base of the mountains, holding a dirt pick that he’d used to turn the soil getting it ready for planting and remembered an old friend he’d come to know who shared his secret with him. But, that was when he was a young boy and no one believes little children when they tell their stories of mystical creatures, let alone a dragon named Narinder.

It was on a day when the snow was melting and small rivers of water cascading over the rocky mountain face that Oliver found himself climbing to one of the caves that dotted the mountainside. He’d been told not to go near the caves. He’d been told that if he ventured into the caves, he would never return. He’d been told that people in the manor had seen what they called “Ice fire” coming out of one of the caves. Oliver wanted to find out for himself. And with courage in one hand and anticipation in the other, he climbed the last few feet to the opening of the cave and peeked in.

The cave, much like any other cave, looked scary, dark, and uninviting. It had ice hanging from the ceiling and puddles of water on the dirt floor. The ice had melted off of the floor leaving sticky mud in some places. But for the most part, the floor of the cave was solid rock. The rock, dried by the mountain winds provided a walkway into the cave. Oliver needed to find out what was in the cave. He needed to find out if the tales were true about the mystical creature that lived in the mountains overlooking the manor.

As Oliver stood waiting to build up enough courage to enter the cave, he couldn’t help but remember what one of the older boys from the manor told him concerning the cave and its magical inhabitant. “I can do this.” he said to himself as he took a deep breath.

Elijah Nicholes, now twenty-four years old, short fluffy sandy ginger-colored hair with black eyes standing about six foot 2 inches tall wasn’t someone who’d just spin a yarn or tell a tale for no reason. To hear Elijah tell it, the cave held a terrible secret, a secret about a creature that would kill you just by breathing ice at you. To hear Elijah tell it, no one had ever lived to share their story about a creature known as “Narinder”. That was some years ago when Elijah himself believed in the mystical mountains and its magic. Since becoming of “age” as it was said, Elijah said he no longer believed the tales of his childhood and neither should anyone else. The life a peasant didn’t have time for imaginary creatures that breathed ice for fire. But, rather than accept Elijah’s ideas of what was real or unreal, Oliver entered the cave and disappeared into the darkness.

Elijah wasn’t just some other farm hand. He was soon to be one of the leaders of the vassals in the area. His word was soon to become law. In the position of a “leader”, he would be given responsibilities much like that of an older adult. And, unfortunately for Oliver, he and his family would fall under the rule of Elijah, a man with black eyes and a mean spirit. It was said that Elijah had little patience for storytelling and would soon outlaw campfire gatherings where tales were told, and stories were spun whether true or not. He’d been heard saying, “We’ll have none of that when I’m in charge.”

Elijah believed that such spinning of tales or yarns, as he called them, was a waste of time. He said the stories were little more than lies to scare children and keep them up at night. He said he needed every person able to get up early and go out to work every morning. He didn’t want anyone sleepy at the plow when it came planting time. The Lord of the Manor, the master of them all, demanded that his vassals in charge do their jobs. Elijah would be required to do the same as his father and his father’s father had done before him.

Hours later, after visiting the cave, Oliver found himself unconscious laying face down on the grass at the bottom of the trail that lead to the cave high in the mountains. Waking up, he asked himself, “How’d I get here?”

He remembered climbing to the cave, he remembered walking into the darkness on the cold rocks and looking at the ice hanging from the ceiling, but he didn’t remember exactly what he’d found or how he got back down. But, like some dreams, Oliver would be reminded what happened and what he saw when the campfire gathering took place later in the evening after all the work was finished. The untold story haunted him all day long until the evening hours and time for the gathering was about to take place.

Listening to the others, Oliver didn’t believe the stories the old women told sitting at the campfire later in the evening after all the work was done, dinner over, and metal plates put away. He didn’t believe them mainly because they didn’t have any proof. But unlike them, he had proof of what he saw. Unlike the others, he had proof that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

The family, his parents, and grandparents, a couple of siblings, one brother and one sister, all sit down to tell their tales about what had happened during the day. It was during this campfire meeting that Oliver first began to remember what happened to him early in the day. It wasn’t his turn to talk about his day. As he sit waiting like others, the memories of the day’s events came flooding into his mind. He remembered walking through the farmland to the base of the mountain. He remembered climbing to the ledge and looking into the mouth of the cave. He remembered how scared he was as he took one step after another into the mouth of the cave and then disappeared into the darkness. Those things he remembered. Those events were really clear. But, unfortunately, what happened after he entered the cave was a bit sketchy.

Each of the women told their tales and passed the imaginary story teller baton on the next one and so forth until all of the women had had a turn. Then it was the men’s turn to share their day’s events. One man spoke of how he plowed many rows for planting. One man spoke of how he’d made small canals for the water to irrigate the plants. Still another spoke of the awkwardness of the mule as he tried to plow the scared soil before planting the seeds. Then, after all the stories were told by everyone older than Oliver, it was his turn to tell his tale of his adventures of the day.

“Okay, Oliver, tell us how your day had been!” called out one of the boys from his manor’s pig farm. “Tell us all about your mystical fantasies and your made up tales of dragons. You know, like you did the last time!” jeered the younger boy as he elbowed his friend who was sitting beside of him warming himself at the fire.

“Why do you always think that I’m telling some lie, Abraham? I know what I saw today was no imaginary creature, nothing that I dreamed up while I was sleeping,” Oliver commented.

“Okay, well then, tell us your tale and we’ll be the judge as to whether it is the truth or not,” said Abe as he nudged his friend again almost knocking him off of the large boulder he was sitting on.

“Yeah, tell us all about it Oliver,” sneered one of the younger girls as she too laughed and laughed.

Oliver didn’t pay too much attention to the childishness of the children. He was once a child himself, but he’d grown beyond those years and what he had to say was the truth. It was a man’s truth. That’s what his father taught him over the years. He’d taught me that when a man spoke, he should speak the truth. As he sit warming his hands by the campfire, the others watched him as he prepared himself to tell his story, perhaps his last story because the new “lord” of the manor was going to ban any further storytelling as soon as he was anointed by the “Master of the Manor”.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver began to tell his tale of the cave, the ice and snow, and the creature he found living within the dark recesses of the mystical mountains. He knew it would all come down the him having proof, and that was what all of the others lacked when proclaiming their victories, their journey’s fortune. “Excuse me, but I’ve been very patient, very attentive, and very respectful to each of the storytellers. Now, if you would kindly show me the same respect I would appreciate it,” stated Oliver as he stood up from his rock on which he was sitting and rubbed his hands together over the flames that were tossed from side to side in the evening breeze.

“It was earlier today that I climbed to the top of the first plateau on the snow-capped mountains that all of us have played during our childhood. It’s on this plateau that I found an opening, a cave into which I was drawn to explore. Being grown now, I wasn’t afraid as I was when I was a child and I walked strait forward into the cave without fear. I walked along a dry rocky path until I came upon a wall of ice that was melting. The ice was melted enough for me to squeeze through into another chamber where I discovered a gigantic creature, a deadly dragon who called himself Narinder. I wasn’t afraid, but I was curious. I asked Narinder why he stayed in the cave and didn’t venture out to see the manor or its people. He told me that if he did venture out it would be a danger to the people who looked upon him. He turned to and stared at me with a usual mystical gaze. I felt as though something was happening but I didn’t know what. I wasn’t older or younger nor was my hair a different color. After the dragon showed me his skill of breathing ice to seal the hole back up where I’d come through earlier, he waved his magical clawed hand across my face. Then he told me to look into the crystal pool and see the gift I’d received. Like him, I too had a blue eye and a green eye just like him. He touched my forehead and I fell asleep. While asleep, he carried me to the grassy pasture land and left me to wake up.” said Oliver as he started to brush his hair out of his face to show the people his gift.

“Show us, show us if you really have been blessed with this great gift,” shouted the older women who clamored and yelled in disbelief.

Oliver walked over to the center of the gathering, pulled his hair out of his face and sure enough, he’d been blessed with one blue eye and one green just like he said. “Me and Marinder are now brothers. If I need him, he will come.