Endless Adventure

The Quest of Wisdom and Worth - Author May Clarke

THE QUEST OF WISDOM AND WORTH

The stairs seem to multiply with each step I take. After conquering the last one out of the three hundred and twelve that I had just crawled, clamoured and cried up, I am shaking mess. If it weren’t for the fact that my favourite person in the world lives on the twenty-fourth floor of the converted windmill residential home, I’d never climb this ascent every day. My parents purposefully picked this ‘retirement home’ for my grandmother, knowing that she would be unable to manage the stairs, essentially making her a prisoner in her own home.

“Cara, dearest, is that you?” My grandmother calls from the living room that is decorated with dream catchers.

The rustling of wrappers indicates that she was hiding a decadent snack down the cushion of her armchair. It was the welcome that always greeted me every afternoon. Unfortunately, the answer was redundant, for I was the only person who ever visited her. My mother, her daughter, never came near.

“Hello gran, are you going to share those pink panthers with me?” I joke.

She guiltily retrieves them from crooks of her furniture, and offers me one. I make no attempt to hide my giggles.

By the time I have dusted off the last crumb, gran has already laid out her tarot cards that she insists we check every day. Although I didn’t believe in them, it was a simple way to keep her happy, and gran had always had a love of magic, refusing to deny its existence.

“Birthdays are significant, dearest. A lot can change your fate as you enter a new age.” Gran explains with the panache of a well-trained mystic.

It was my birthday today, although gran had been the first to mention it. I had been born at midnight twenty-one years ago.

Smiling, but not agreeing, I nod for the first card to be revealed hoping that this unusual habit could be concluded, so we could get our board game started.

A forest.

“This is the Forest of Worth, where our magic has been guarded until our curse is lifted.” Gran begins, with her usual attention to gravitas.

“Is that right?” I asks, feigning interest, before nodding for the next card to be turned over.

A quest.

“The time has come for our worthiest daughter to claim back what was taken.” Gran continues, ignoring the clear scepticism on my face.

She reaches out for the penultimate card, so captivated in the messages that only she could see that she didn’t even look up.

Truth.

“It’s time dearest.” Gran says to me, but doesn’t take her eyes of the final card, as if she knows what is behind it.

For the first time, I am unnerved by my gran’s behaviour. Over the years, she had taken me to various witchcraft markets and stalls, buying ‘healing stones’ and ‘trinkets’. I had always assumed that it was her method of bringing some colour into my very grey life. Happily, I had enacted out spell making and potion conjuring with her that then became our evening meal later in the evening. Just a little fun, for a little girl in desperate need of it. For the first time ever, gran seems other worldly, and I am frightened of what was behind the last card as much as she was.

Death.

Gran took a huge deep breath, and begin to cough uncontrollably, immediately bringing me back to reality. Helping her into her bed, I pluck the pillows up, and fuss around her until her coughing had subsided, and she had drank a full glass of water.

“The truth first, my dearest. I don’t know what happened to your mother. I always raised her to be kind and thoughtful, but once she came into her power she was cruel, and everyone became fearful of her.” Gran starts to tell me.

“Gran I think your hallucinating, the only part of that story that rings true is that mum is cruel, and we already knew that.” I return.

“No…You must listen. When your dad arrived they joined their powers, and became unyielding. The consequences of their actions were so great that we were cursed as a coven, and had to live as humans. The time has come for you to claim our magic back, it can be found in the Forest of Worth. Do you remember the place I would take you as a child? It is the entrance to your adventure.” Gran continues.

Shaking my head, I can’t help but feel anger that my grandmother is making up fantasies.

“This is nonsense! Even if it wasn’t, I am not worthy. I’m literally useless. Plus I saw the last card: death. It seems unfair to send me on a mission that is pre-destined to kill me.” I argue back, desperately hoping this would be an end to it.

“That’s not your death. It’s mine. I am four hundred and forty-three years old, and I have been human, since the year before you were born. Your parents had you in the hope that you would bring back magic. For me you did, you gave me a reason to hold on, but your parents’ biggest fault has always been their blindness to true beauty.”

Aches of unshed tears hurt my eyes. The only information I was able to latch onto, and process was that gran was dying, and for some unknown reason I knew this was true.

“Tell me what to do gran? How can I save you?” I cry out morosely, because even if I didn’t believe in magic, I knew that my gran was the only sparkle in my monochrome life.

Trees tower over me as I stand on the boarder of the forest. Only being half convinced that this journey could make any impact on my gran’s recovery, I was deliberating about taking the first step.

“You’re useless!” The words of my mother shout in my head, and it was in times of uncertainty, like this, that I was inclined to agree with her.

Disturbed by the spongey tongue licking my ankle, I look down to see the most adorable pug. Her scrunched face giving the impression that she was as reluctant about this ‘quest’ as I was. Examining her collar, the tag read ‘Dot’.

“Guess you’re coming with me, if you would like?” I laugh at myself for checking the availability of my pug, but am surprised when Dot nods as if she understands.

Committed to the path ahead, I place my foot on the gritty ground, and watch as the wisteria tree parts its cloak, inviting me in, and wishing me well.

The smooth pebbles that formed a path had made the forest seem whimsical, the bushes seemed to be whispering to each other, and the sense of being a detail amid nature’s intricate design was both comforting and humbling in equal measure. The illusion of safety is soon distorted into one of threat as the path is replaced by a muddy bog. Unfriendly terrain grips onto my ankles hindering my progress into the woods. Only with huge circular motions from my hips was I able to tear myself from the clotted clasp of the muck. Dot, had long since taken refuge on my shoulder, but she was growling at the trees to the left of me, and I couldn’t shake the insecurity that someone was following me. Gran had said that the forest reflected the nature of the people within it, and the appearance of the challenging landscape had coincided with the sense of unfriendly eyes on my back.

Zooming past with fierce aggression, huge purple flies whiz by my upper body declaring war on their unwelcome intruder. Struggling, I tried to hop through the mud that was rising up my calves leaving clawing marks on my jeans. Panic. My muscles were screaming at the thought of having to kick anymore of the sludge out of my way. Unexpectedly, the purple paratroopers dived onto my stranded body, and bit my skin leaving sharp stings in their wake. Dot was barking and fighting them off as best as she could, but it was evident that they were getting the upper hand. Determined not to let Dot suffer, I force myself forward. Thankfully, my shaky steps brought me out of the worst of it, and my feet were please to find solid ground beneath them. Before I had chance to look at where the path had brought me, I felt a wave of woozy weariness crash over me. The bites on my arms were red and swollen, and I realise that there had been more in their territorial teeth than just a warning. Preparing to slump to the ground, and rest a while, my plans are scuppered by Dot. Racing forward, she was barking for me to chase her, she ran into the trees, ignoring the route, and making me follow her into what I could only describe as a more perilous path.

Sweetness wasn’t a suitable enough description for the troublesome pug that was sat by a lake, with her head tilted sideways, blatantly judging my lack of stamina. The same could not be said of me. I was drenched in sweat, unable to decide where to place my foot, because the roots on the ground wouldn’t stop moving, and after an unexpected jog to save my new companion, I was panting more impressively than my canine confident. Ungracefully, I plunged my head into the placid water letting the refreshing liquid cool down my body. Greedily, filling my mouth with water, I could feel the poison from the flies relenting its hold on my body. Reluctantly, I emerge from the healing oasis.

In the reflection, I could see a version of myself. It wasn’t what I recognised when I looked in the mirrors at home, but it was a possibility of a person I could be if I had more confidence and power.

“You’ll never amount to anything.” My father’s voice, laughed in my ear, but there I was, in the lake, proving him wrong.

People were lining up to see me. Asking for my advice, and bringing expensive gifts. Gran was sat by my side, her pink panther wafers were presented on a golden plate, and she was laughing without a care in the world. My hand is aglow, magic effusing around my body. A single girl approaches me. She reminds me of how I am now: shy, reserved and unsure.

“Please, help your people, highest coven mother. Save our families by sharing your powers with us all.” The girl implores, but her optimism is met with my cruel, dismissive laugh.

“You trusted me to bring back magic, and I have. I saved our elderly members, and I brought wealth back to our home. To give you all magic would cost me too much power. This is the way it has to be, don’t ask again.” I cruelly school her, and turn my back.

The wine flows, and there are suitors surrounding me, asking for moments of my time. The girl has been long forgotten. It is a court of luxury and joy. A far cry from two cruel parents, and a grandmother stuck in a cold windmill that has been converted into a residential home. Taking time to look outside of the window, I can see that the people I grew up with are still living in the grey, monotone misery of their lives. All that I have achieved in the image is grand, but meaningless.

“Drink from the lake one more time, and all this could be yours. All the power would be in your possession, and you can use it as you see fit.” The breeze tried to entice me, making the water clearer, and my reflection stronger.

Instead, I pushed back. The life seemed perfect, but my soul seemed altered. If the price of magic was the alteration of my being, then it was a power that I had no use for.

“You have been found worthy. Take rest here, and then continue on your journey.” A praising voice sings on the wind.

Dot lay on my stomach, and having faith in her judgement, I closed my eyes too.

When I said that my guide and possible spirit animal had good judgement, I was wrong. I have since decided that I was recovering from the after effects of potent fly poison. We are lost. Endless miles of woods, ruins and meadows, but no sign of what we need to do next. Dot’s tiny legs gave up walking around four hours ago, and I have been carrying her ever since. The shadows of night are following us, at least that’s what I tell myself when the unsettling feeling of being watched descends on me again. Plodding on, we reach two towering mountains that stare down at us like sentinels on duty. Between them is a col in the rock, and despite all my better judgement, me and Dot brave the uninviting gap.

Light is sporadically scattered through the crevice, but there isn’t enough of it to navigate the tunnel without caution. Significant shards of sharp scythe-like rock jut out, but I am able to twist to avoid being injured by the mountains internal weaponry. I slip. Inevitably, my hand lingered too long on the wall as I tried to regain my balance, and the screaming pain in my palm alerts me to the deep cut that is dripping blood down the rock face and onto the ground. Dot whimpers in sympathetic solidarity, as I suppress a grunt of pain. A haunting scream, travelled from a distance towards us, and the temperature dropped significantly. It seems like the gap between the mountains had become animated from the taste of my blood, and it breathes out a heavy, judgemental sigh.

“There is evil in your blood.” A gruff voice called out.

I wanted to deny that condemnation, to beat down the slander and defend my character. Curiously, it seemed as if the faceless judge had anticipated such a reaction.

Gran had described how terrible life had been when my mother and father ruled as coven leaders, but I wasn’t prepared for how deprave they were. As if the ghosts of memories was playing against the walls, a montage of monstrous acts appeared all around me. Some I recalled, like the time my mother had sat me in front of a wine glass and demanded that I smash it with the power of my mind, and when hours had passed to no avail my mother had picked it up and launched it against the kitchen cupboards. There were some memories that predated my arrival, in these my parents’ powers were substantial. At first, I thought that the scenes were on a repeated loop, but I soon realise it was a catalogue of cruelty against different members of their coven, hurting people who disagreed with them and sometimes hurting people for no reason at all. They ruled through fear, and I could only feel relief that their powers had been removed from them, even if we all had to pay the price. One particular act held my attention, my mother and father were hovering over my grandmother’s bed, while she was sleeping. A light blue line of light was leaving her body and turning red as it entered their own. Gran was four hundred and forty three years old, and she was dying because the magic was running out, but that wasn’t from the curse, it was from her own daughter and son-in-law draining the residual power from her body. It seemed they had been visiting her the whole time.