6 The recluse

It had been a few months since the incident in the clearing and my thoughts had long since left speculation behind. I walked with my guide and we talked. He taught me how the natural world moved, how the interrelationships between animals and plants held the fabric of the natural world together and how the seasons effected this. He then told me the power of water, wind, fire and air and I meditated on these as I walked.

It was during one of these times I came across a small shack nestled deep within the woods. It was run down and looked abandoned. Intrigued, I wandered forward to take a look. I smelt no sign of people nor fire so, presuming abandonment, I pushed open the window shutter.

"Come in," a voice said from inside, "I have been expecting you. Don't be shy, I won't hurt you, and your friend would alert you if I would. Come in, come in and close the door after you. Keep the heat in."

My friend? I travelled alone. The only 'person' I spoke to lived inside me, how would that voice know about him?

With trepidation, I stepped inside only to be greeted by an old man in a rocking chair and a roaring fire in the hearth. How come my senses had let me down so completely. 

The voice inside my head knew my concern. "Stop your worry, you are right, there is no-one here and there is no fire." I spun round and the voice had a form. He stood almost six foot and wore long soft robes which completely covered him. Even his hands. His face was gentle though, with long luxurious hair tied back in a low, half pony tail. He was clean shaven, his eyes sparkled with a depth of knowledge beyond my understanding and his mouth played a slight smile, warm and generous. I looked at the old man and he smiled too.

"She is much confused Xi Juan. Help her out, explain what's going on."

I pushed myself against the door ready to run, "No,no,no its fine. Relax." Xi Juan said, " we've been together for how long and have I done anything to give you cause for concern? Trust me, please and it will all become clear, I promise."

I stayed by the door but relaxing just a little, I allowed myself to look further at the room.

There was little there; an old man in a rocking chair, a roaring fire in the hearth, a table and an oversized book. To one side there was a small cot and to the other, some pans for cooking. Hanging above this were hooks which held meat, vegetables and some fruit. It was a tiny home but however much I tried to believe, I was reminded how I could smell no human scent, nor smell any fire burning.

"Come," the old man said, "have some tea, its on the fire." Without thinking I moved to serve as I had been taught to. I found drinking bowls and the tea, I served the two men and stood quietly waiting instruction.

"Pour one for yourself and sit down, please, you are a guest here. Please relax, you are not here to serve us."

With that the old man poured another tea and pushed it in my direction. 

"Can you read little one? Were you ever taught?"

I shook my head. In the smithy, all you needed were numbers and the ability to measure and beat. I could do those, but read? No. It was something I was too young for when I had a mother and of no consequence after she died.

"If you cannot read, then fine. Open that book on the table and read what is says."

Pardon? Had I just heard him right? I told him I can't read yet he tells me to read that book. I shake my head, "Master, I can't read, how am I supposed to read the book if I have never been taught?"

The old man smiled broadly, "its because you've not been taught that you will be able to read this book. You have no preconceptions as to what should be, so you will read what is. Go," he gestured in the direction of the book, " go, open the book and read what it says. Read it out loud so we both can hear what you see."

With that he settled himself back in his rocking chair and waited.

They both waited. I really didn't know what to do but after a while I gave in and approached the book. It was huge. It seemed to grow as I got closer and then as if by its own accord, threw itself open.

I jumped back. What on earth is this?

I stepped forward once more and the book almost humphed as it waited to be read. If I didn't know any better it felt as though it had folded its arms and tapped its foot, "stop keeping me waiting girl" The book spoke, albeit in my head. "Come on, come on, I haven't all day. Unless you look sharpish I'm closing myself and you won't be able to read anything.'

There, in front of me were words and they spoke themselves to me.

"The inevitability of the consequence is a consequence of the inevitable"

What?

"Turn the page, turn the page, begin...."

I turned the page, again there was a phrase, "listen to the earth's heartbeat, only then will you hear what she says..."

"realisation allows you to open the book but does not teach you how to read or turn the pages..."

"paint a picture, change the hue, look again and see the view...."

The pages turned and words tumbled out. Some where long passages, the words of which entered my brain and locked themselves in various places. Some were just one liners, but all of them seemed to pour themselves into me, and like a sponge, I seemed to soak them all up.

The book held me in its power until the last page was reached. All it said was, " as is, shall be, what is, will be, what won't, can't be. You are, as is, will be, what wil and never be what can't be."

The book snapped shut and flipping itself over, sat motionless on the table. 

I spun round. 

The old man was gone as was the fire. Xi Juan was also gone, "I'm here Niao, don't worry, I've not gone anywhere." His voice spoke reassuringly in my head and I felt myself relax. A sort of normality began to resume.

Whatever that all was, I've no idea but the shack was dry and I was tired. I looked around and there were a few dusty pots in the corner. There were some clothes too. They were dirty but they'd be better than the rags I wore. I stripped and threw on the replacements. They were men's attire, but that'd be the most sensible for me. I tied my hair back with a length of gut rope. When I came to a river I would bathe; wash myself, the clothes and my hair. 

"Pity I haven't a......." I spotted a prize in the corner, a simple comb made from ox bone. I grabbed it and held it close to my heart. I'd never been gifted a comb, this was amazing. "Thank you, thank you, this is the best present gifted to me, thank you," and with a skip in my step I turned to my bag.

Hunting through, I found some vegetable pieces and a strip of meat. Lighting a fire, I set about cooking a soup. As it cooked I organised the cot. Shook out the dust (well some of it) and created a pillow fom the rags I'd been wearing. I ate what I cooked and collapsed into bed. It was the first time I had slept on a bed since I was a baby. It felt strangely good, and oddly bizarre.

In fact, the whole last few hours had been competely bizarre. 

With that thought, I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.