BNL RAIL and Mining

Standing Tall

Life feels best after a spring shower. The smell of slightly rotting mushrooms and pollen, mixed with the rays of sunlight passing through the beads of raindrops falling off the petals above Lhym, injected the slim, blue-eyed Schretl with a sense of naughtiness of the Twirling Dance performed in the open. “Oh, just to fling oneself onto the nearest toadstool, branch, or rock; but no…” Even if the risk were so infinitely small, he, a newly cantered Schretl, would not want to be hauled in front of the elders to explain this foolishness. He must be true to his newly gained stature and focus on getting to the Sorn.

Years of schooling combined with these last few months of intensive memorization had culminated in the ceremony that announced that Lhym was among the adults of the clan. He would now be given responsibilities, Holy Heiliks, which would take him out into the world beyond the village bounds. Now the Sorn was going to give him his first Holy Heilik. What would it be: orchestrating a multitude of workers building a new bridge across the mighty Long Lake; directing the harvest of a field of giant milk mushrooms; or finding the source of the Silver Spring in the caves of Nar? It must be of extreme importance for the Sorn to call him so early in the morning.

Carefully, so as not to let too much sunlight fall upon him, the short-legged Schretl made his way through a thicket of mushrooms, only slightly taller then Lhym himself, until he reached the clan’s village. Footstoon village was a scattered grouping of small rounded huts built of dirt, clay and twigs under and surrounding a large oak tree near a river. A small distinctive fence surrounded each hut and announced, by the pattern of leaves woven into it, the name of the clan family living within. At the south end of the village Lhym’s family hut used blackberry leaves with red ivy leaves to announce the Forthsteins home, known for their long history of numerical keepers of the yellow metal.

The home of the Sorn stood on the opposite side of the great oak at the trunk’s highest point. Garlands of pine fruit, nuts, and the finest pin mushrooms, ringed the hut. The mixture trumpeted that within this ring was the wisest, all-knowing Sorn, the Schretl who had lived through hundreds of winters. Living so long had formed the Sorn’s core belief in the wisdom of ritual and tradition, which became the basis of all his decisions. Since the Second Awakening, all Sorns used interpretation of the ancient text to describe how Schretls should react to the challenges of the modern world about them. Thus with the knowledge of tradition, gained through study, the Sorn guided his clan safely and kept the Schretls hidden from the larger world. No creature had found their clan in hundreds of seasons.

Lhym’s path to the Sorn led him through the village square. As he entered the village square, he noted that, as usual, Brishl was playing Sticks; his beady little grey eyes darting from one stick to another. Brishl Steinhoff, a large overweight Schretl whose nose was constantly dripping, lived alone with his mother in a dilapidated hut across the path from Lhym’s hut; nobody in the village knew the whereabouts of Brishl’s father. For as long as Lhym could remember, whenever Brishl, only a season older than Lhym, was with one or more of his friends, he would single Lhym out for a nasty remark or an equally nasty prank. More than once, Brishl rubbed mud in Lhym’s ears, yanked on his tail, or made humiliating remarks about his size or his ears. Now every time he saw Brishl, Lhym’s stomach would tighten, and his throat would burn. He could hear his heart pounding and racing, with his mind spinning thoughts of scenarios on how to escape his nemesis. On this day, despite the square being filled with many Schretls, maybe, Lhym thought, he could slip unnoticed around back of Aunt Shim’s hut….

As Lhym turned towards Aunt Shim’s hut, he heard the high pitch nasal screech. “Hey, Nip! Where ya goin’? I hear the Sorn got some garbage he wants to throw out,” sniped Brishl.

“Maybe he wants the little Nip to count some pebb les,” said one of Brishl buddies.

“Nah, he has to read the Nadix text again, and again, and again, with a bow here and skip there,” said the other bully.

The gang in the square threw down their Sticks with mock disgust and slapped Brishl hardily on his back for their clever remarks.

That feeling, the urge to run, the drum beat in his chest, and the climbing vine twisting in his stomach, swept over Lhym. Even though Lhym knew that with all the Schretls in the square, Brishl, or his friends, would not actually touch him, Lhym felt trapped. He would have to pass them and listen to more of their barbs. Then Lhym remembered his father, Bin, saying that Brishl Steinhoff had no respect for anyone and no respect for the traditions of the Schretls. “Pay no attention to what that one says,” Lhym could hear his father say. “Show him no fear and know what you stand for. That youngen will cause the outside to find us all.”

Lhym passed deliberately and quickly by them, staring straight ahead, hearing only the last snarl, “See ya later, Nip, if the Tall Ones don’t get ya,” as he left the square with their hollow laughter following him.

Lhym was unsure how to approach the Sorn. The only time he would generally see the Sorn was on Reading Day, the day of the week the clan would gather to hear from the Revered Text. On that day, the Sorn would climb up to the Holy Gathering Stadie, a raised circular mound made of crushed corncobs and clay, carrying the Revered Text. After having placed the Revered Text on the Golden Mushroom altar, the Sorn would select pious men and cantered boys to join him in reading the text. The Sorn would perform sacred dances, read from the Revered Text in the ancient language, perform a second set of dances that culminated the readings, and then promulgate how the Revered Text should apply to the traditions of the week. In addition to seeing the Sorn on Reading Day, Lhym had also met with the Sorn briefly before his cantering ceremony when the Sorn checked Lhym’s dances for traditional accuracy. Today’s meeting was not about Reading Day or to check his dances, it was about his first Holy Heilik as an adult. Again, Lhym’s mind filled with the possibilities of great assignments as he entered the Sorn’s office. The office was small filled with scrolls, some yellowed with age, some newly written, covering every wall and stacked to the. Near the back wall, almost hidden by scrolls, stood a weathered green and white lime-tree writing desk, lit by two beeswax candles set on the front corners. The Sorn, wearing a long green robe with a pine needle collar, stood behind the desk deep in thought, writing with yellow canary feather pen. He would write a few letters, scuffle his feet in a twisting dance, write a few more letters, and dance again. A quizzical look came over the Sorns face as he noticed Lhym, but then an all-knowing demeanor settled over the Sorn. The Sorn, stroking his long red beard, made a final few strokes on the scroll in front of him, looked up from his writing and then looked down with black tired eyes on Lhym.

“Lhym, for your first Holy Heilik, you are to take this scroll of my weekly pronouncements to the Sorn of the Fieldwitz clan. You will wear this Sign of the Sorn on your right shoulder, indicating you are on official business for me. When you return we will discuss how you can improve your participation in Reading Day. That will be all. Good day.”

After leaving the Sorn, Lhym headed toward home, muttering to himself, “This is it? I’m just a delivery boy of some old scroll? If Brishl finds out, I’ll never live it down.” With these thoughts vivid in his mind, Lhym turned left to take the long way around the village so that he would not have to go through the village square.

On the way home, Lhym thought about his travel to Fieldwitz village. Lhym had been to the Fieldwitz clan many times. His father’s brother and sister lived there and Lhym knew the well-traveled path as well as any place in his village. The path, from the Footstoon village, led across a fallen log over the river, through a meadow of tall grasses and two cornfields, across a road built by the Tall Ones, through a wooded patch of tall pines, and finally through a field of clover, ending at the Fieldwitz village.. The trip to the village, which was nestled in the middle of the high hills, leading to the Chadwick Mountains, normally, if one did stop too often to play along the way, took about a day and half, necessitating at a stay at Aunt Klara’s house for the first night.

When he returned home, Lhym’s parents were full of praise and pride for their cantered son. Lhym’s father intoned praise that the Sorn had shown his scholarly wisdom in appointing Lhym with such an important task. Lhym’s mother, her hazel eyes wet with joy, gushed with pride about the badge of honor Lhym was to wear, and about how her little boy had become an adult with a Holy Heilik. Lhym said in a high-pitched pleading voice, “It’s no big deal;” although he knew his protests were to no avail, as she would tell all the neighbors despite his pleas.

Immediately, Lhym’s father, in his distinctive official manner, started to direct preparations for journey. “Lhym, you must start now to organize your responsibilities to complete this honorable task. What do you think you should do first?” Without waiting for Lhym’s response, his father continued:

"First, you must consider the right time of the day to start; about midmorning after the dew ha s burned off. It is important to keep visibility at a minimum;”

"Second, pacing your journey. Do not be too quick initially. K eep a steady pace throughout. Energy at a constant high level is paramount, in the event any dangers appear.”

“What dangers?” Lhym quipped to himself, “I’m just going to Fieldwitz.”

“Third, planning meals. Only a minimum. You will stop at Aunt Klara’s. You know she will feed you well when you arrive.”

"Fourth, carrying the scroll. I’ll lend you my special traveling pouch. It will provide extra protection from prying eyes.”

”Fifth, your route. Stay on the Fieldwitz Path. This path is well traveled by Schretls. They will know that you are on official business for the Sorn by the Sorn’s badge you are wearing.”

”Sixth, crossing the road built by the Tall Ones. Only after you have scouted the road three times in each direction will you cross the road. Be sure to allow for maximum use of speed and stealth.”

On and on droned his father, with directive after directive, until Lhym felt his head was about to burst. To add to his frustration, out of the corner of his eye, Lhym suddenly became aware that his younger brother, Rhone, was eagerly taking detailed notes. “Does he think he is the one who was given this responsibility?” seethed Lhym.

“I’ve just sent a message to Aunt Kara to expect you around supper time tomorrow,” chimed in mother, as she began to herd the boys off to bed. “If the winds are favorable, we should hear back from her before you leave in the morning. Best you get to bed early tonight.”

Resisting his mother's maneuvering Rhone piped in, “I want to go, too! You’ve been promising I could stay with Uncle Rhym this summer. Please, Please. It’s a short trip. I’ve done all my work. And I won’t cause Lhym any problems. Please…..”

Lhym’s mother looked to Lhym’s father. Nodding his approval, father acquiesced, “Well I suppose… ”

Lhym stomped off towards his bedroom, slamming the door with an emphatic ‘Bang!’ as he slumped onto his bed. It wasn’t bad enough that Holy Heilik wouldn’t give him the prestige he deserved, but his little brother had to tag along too. It was too much. If he was merely a delivery boy for a scroll, at least he could have a little adventure along the way. Several potential ideas for exploration immediately leaped into his mind. The small spring in the second cornfield had many secrets to reveal. The Tall Ones road, which some said was being changed, needed scrutinizing. The cliff just before the Fieldwitz village needed climbing. How could he do any of these with his little brother in tow? Mijh, Lhym's best friend, was the explorer he wanted; not Rhone. Together, Mijh and Lhym had studied the rituals; explored all the secrets of the village; and even plotted a way to get Bristle alone in order to even the score. Mijh was good at climbing and running but Lhym could best him in mind games. No one could defeat this dynamic dyad.

Later that evening Lynn's father came to his room. After much discussion, Lhym relented, agreeing to take his little brother to Uncle Rhym, as long as Mijh could come too. Midmorning the next day the three boys set off after Lhym endured hugs and gushy blessings from his mother, stern warnings and a reminder of the seriousness of his responsibility from his father, and finally, an inspection of the Sorn badge from both parents. At last, with many understanding nods and waves goodbye, Lhym, Mijh, and Rhone were finally on the path to Aunt Klara’s house.

The Smael River surrounded the Footstoon village on two sides. Along the river’s edge was a heavy thicket of thorn bushes, which divided at one point to reveal an ancient redwood log bridge. The bridge served as the main gate into and out of the village with paths leading to other Schretl communities. During any part of the day, the bridge filled with merchants bringing business to the village and travelers with dealings elsewhere. Crossing the bridge, the boys were stopped, more than once, by villagers who, upon noticing the Sorn’s Badge, expressed their pride in Lhym for carrying out his holy duty. Amid the swell of well-wishers, a sudden realization crept into Lhym’s mind; this was going to be a very long trip.

After crossing the river, the path to Aunt Klara’s house followed in a large arc, skirting undulating hills and valleys on the right, known as the DeDeTee. During the White Season, families would come here to slide down the hills on pond leaves. The more adventurous would fashion ice planks from the river to their feet and sweep down the hills while trying to stand up. During the summer, the younger Schretls would play hiding games. One particular game that Lhym liked to play was Grab the Dagger. Two, or more teams, secretly hid their dagger. Each team tried to find the others’ dagger and return it to their home base. Mijh’s speed and Lhym’s ability at hiding the dagger made them particularly skillful players at this game. Lhym knew that playing this game or any other game was permitted during the day, but once the sun had set, all Schretl's must be home according to the adults because the Farseenisch, large monsters who ate young Schretls, came out of the ground to prowl at the bottom of the DeDeTee valleys. The tale of the old leaf weaver’s son was often told to emphasize the danger. However, Lhym and his friends felt this tale was meant for kids of Rhone’s age rather than his..

When the path divided, one side continuing on the arc and the other leading into the DeDeTee, Lhym looked at Mijh. Smiles spread across their faces and they turned to the DeDeTee. They reasoned it would cut time off their journey and leave them a little time for fun. At first, the path was level cutting through thick Hot Season grass but then it suddenly dropped into the first valley. Normally the boys would have continued along the rim to a gentler slope, but Mijh had commented that he had seen a hidden entrance to a cave a couple of weeks ago and thought they should explore it. The cave entrance was below a steep slope in the valley wall. Lhym went down the slope first. He stayed upright in the beginning but tumbled and rolled when the steep slope changed to a gentler slope. Mijh and Rhone laughed at the tumbled heap. Then Rhone’s face changed, “I don’t want to go down there.”

Lhym made his way up to the change in the slope. “Don’t worry. Slide down on your butt and I’ll catch you. It’s not that far.” With encouragement from Mijh, Rhone slid down into Lhym’s arms. Without much of a thought, Mijh was down and the boys were off to the bottom.

“It’s off this way, through these rocks.” Mijh said as he led the way.

Boulders littered the ground, strewn as if some giant had smashed his way through a colonnade with a giant club. There was not only odd-shaped rocks, but objects the boys had never seen before; a broken giant wheel that was not made of wood or metal but of some shiny slippery substance, scattered here and there strange brown wooden logs cut perfectly at each end with a notch to fit other logs, and a huge box, made of a strange material that felt like crushed brown leaves, lying torn on one side. It had a picture of the wooden logs laid together to form a house! Traveling further over more rocks, the boys found the strangest of objects. Made of a very thin wood was an object that appeared to have a part of a wing like a bird. It reminded Lhym of strange objects he had seen flying in the sky that flew like birds but in straight lines from horizon to horizon. When he had asked his father what it was, his father said it was related to the Tall Ones. This object before them was not big enough for Tall Ones. It was not quite big enough for a Schretl to sit on and it was light enough so that Lhym could pick it up. What a strange place this was.

From behind another set of boulders, Mijh yelled, “Over here. A cave!”

The cave entrance was low, about half the height of Rhone. Despite this being mid Hot Season, ice could be seen just inside the entrance. Deep inside the cold and dark place, a low gurgling sound flowed up to the boys.

“Farseenisch,” whimpered Rhone.

Mijh looked at Lhym and the three boys made their way quickly back across the boulders and strange objects to the path at the bottom of the valley.

The sun was well past its zenith when the boys found the path leading them up the far side hill. This led the boys through a series of wooden areas where paths led off to left and right into secret dagger hiding areas. The boys knew this area well. A noise of other Schretl boys broke into their travels. The voices were familiar and unwelcomed.

“Brishl,” snarled Lhym.

“Do you think he knows were here,” Mijh asked?

“Let’s not find out.” The trio darted off to a side path that led around the noises. Finally, the boys came out of the woodlands onto a clear field. From here, they could see the main path again. Without any warning, Lhym and Mijh raced off to the path leaving Rhone behind yelling, “Hey, don’t leave me here.” As usual, Mijh won the race by several strides and the two sat down on a rock laughing and waited for Rhone to catch up.

“Why did you do that? I could have gotten lost.”

Lhym did not pay much attention to his brother’s whining because back in the field there were clear indications that others were headed their way.

“You see them, Mijh? We’d better get to the corn field,” Lhym warned.

Whenever possible the Schretls, located their villages near a source of water, a source of mushrooms and a source of corn. Water, in addition for drinking, provided protection and power for machinery. Mushrooms provided food and herbs. Corn provided the Schretls with many essential necessities. The grains on top of the tassel provided an important component for their diet. Corn silk was used as a building material in baskets, housing, and clothing. When mixed with sugar, special toadstools and secret herbs, kernels at the top corncob fermented into a sacred cocktail which was drunk during many holidays. Although they did not plant the crop, the Schretls’ were responsible for the quick and essential growth of the corn. They fought a constant battle with the bore worms, ensured proper fertilization, applied special ingredients to the leaves making them an irritant to anything that brushed against them, and enhanced beams of sunlight to lower leaves to ensure proper growth. Ingrained into every Schretl was the nature of corn.

The boys quickly darted into the cornfield. Each corn plant was planted almost exactly the same distance from all other corn plants. As a result, once in a cornfield one easily became disoriented as to the direction one faced or which row one might be in. The Schretls, however, were born with an innate sense of direction of where they have had been and where they would like to go. Lhym called for the boys to move quickly, quietly, and covertly over several rows from the path and up the stalks to the top. Once at the top they were able to observe the path without being seen. Within moments, Brishl and his cronies swaggered down the path looking to torment any newly cantered Schretl.

“Why was he here?” whispered Mijh.

“Don’t know. Now they are ahead of us. Well have to keep an eye out.”

The boys climbed down and kept on a parallel line to the main path. Each time they spotted someone on the path, they ducked down.

Between the first two cornfields, off the main path, lay a branch path to Aunt Klara’s house. Lhym had spent many a Hot Season at Aunt Klara’s. Her delicious Orange Mushroom stews that she fed the Schretls after a hot days work in the cornfields heralded her throughout the region. For all her culinary talent however, Aunt Klara was better known for her efficiency, common sense and iron hand. Aunt Klara oversaw the work of the Schretl in the two cornfields. The cornfields, known for their constant and significant yields for the Schretls, were a source of pride for Lhym’s relatives. A large lawn surrounded Aunt Klara’s hut on three sides. At the end of the Hot Season, when corn silks, ripe kernels, and grains had been harvested, sorted, and put into large bins in the village, everyone gathered on this lawn to celebrate. On long tables, which had been set out on the lawn, each family spread their food specialty. There seemed to be a never-ending supply of pies, stuffings, breads, sweets, jams, and meats of all descriptions each with its distinctive aroma. At the sound of a bell, all gathered to give thanks for the harvest and to stuff themselves. By the end Lhym felt he would burst. After the feast was completed and the tables were cleared away, the games came out. Lhym’s favorite was poison ball. Each player would hit his ball around the yard through designated hoops. If another player’s ball was close by and you hit his ball, you could send his ball as far away from the next hoop as possible. The best spot to send your opponent’s ball was into the grunttel’s pen. These animals were never happy when someone came into their pen and there was always lots of laughter watching someone dodge the grunttels.

Aunt Klara, as the day’s light began to fade, had just fed and given orders for the next day to the workers when she spotted Lhym and his brother entering the yard.

“You boys look tired and hungry. Get right in here.” She hurried the three boys into the kitchen and sat them down to hot corn steaks.

“Where have you been? I expected you a couple of hours ago. By the smell of your clothes and the corn pollen in your hair, you look like you been in the fields. Aren’t you on a Holy Heilik for the Sorn?”

With his eyes firmly fixed on the floor, Lhym explained his assignment, his run-in with the village bully, and their detour into the cornfield. Lhym failed to mention the excursion into the DeDeTee.

After what seemed like hours and what felt like eyes scraping his spine, Lhym heard a low disquieting grunt followed by, “One day you’ll need to learn to stand tall, even if what is in front of you is taller than you.

Finish your supper and then up to the loft and a good night’s sleep.” Nothing else was said that night of their plight.

Lhym loved Aunt Klara’s loft. It was not heated and had no bathroom, which made it a little tricky in the White Season. However, in the Hot Season the breezes always made it cool and comfortable to sleep at night. Special material from the cornfields made sleeping in the bed feel like sleeping on an ocean of feathers. The upstairs room was full of little nooks and crannies with ancient toys that made playing in them secretive and fanciful. That night the boys whispered about their adventures of the day and plotted how tomorrow would be.

As soon as the sun rose the next day, Aunt Klara called the boys to a breakfast of yellow hot cakes with honey syrup. Although she made no mention of their tormentor, Aunt Klara was full of stories of how she had stood up to many adversaries. The theme seemed to be “use your strengths” and for Lhym that was his mind. And much like her brother, Lhym’s father, she reminded Lhym of his responsibilities to the clan and to the Sorn. However, with her, Lhym felt that he could, or should, be responsible.

“Stick to the main path. Nobody will bother you there,” she warned. And with that, they were off again down the path from Aunt Klara’s hut to the main path. They could have taken a short cut diagonally to the main path but Aunt Klara’s admonition to stay on the path was very fresh. When they got to the main path, the boys found it was full of people coming from Fieldwitz. It seemed Aunt Klara was right again; nobody was going to bother them today. Lhym also felt proud at the nods people gave him when they saw the badge on his shoulder. Rhone’s face seemed to beam at the recognition of his brother’s honor. It was not long before the events of yesterday were just a mere memory.

On the right side of the path was the second cornfield. It was just like the first cornfield they had been in yesterday. On the left was a wooded area which had a stream running along the path and then into the woods and then along the path again. It was very tempting for the boys to follow the stream instead of the path but again they stayed on the path. Many animals could be seen in the woods. Some were huge by Schretl standards, some with great head protrusions branching out in all directions, some gathering acorns had fluffy tails, and some which looked like furry little balls about the size of a grown Schretl’s fist. These, called Zornpilkes, were often kept as pets by the Schretls. Zornpilkes were very hard to catch. As soon as a Schretl would be about to grab one, it would seem to disappear. More than once a young Schretl would open a Zornpilke’s cage only to find it empty, or so the young Schretl would think. Adults would teach their children to first spray the cage with a watery mist and this would ensure the Zornpilke would not seem to disappear. The adults used this lesson to teach young Schretls the reality of their own lives; the dangers of being seen and the dangers of the early morning mist.

As the trio traveled further along the path, there seemed to be fewer and fewer travelers. In the far distance, they could see the road built by the Tall Ones, a great curiosity to Lhym.

“Race you,” Mijh enticed.

“Not fair,” complained Rhone.

“Ok, we’ll give you 5 lengths.” Mijh responded. “You’re on, Lhym?”

“You ought to give me some lengths, too.” Lhym said.

“Only one. You almost beat me last time. And we race to the marker.”

Once set, Mijh gave the sign and they all darted for the goal set my Mijh. The length of the race was longer than the boys usual set and surprisingly Rhone seemed like he would win. At seeing this, something in Lhym didn’t feel right. There was a sharp pain in his side but there was also a fuzzy motion in his head that made everything around him seem to slow down. He could see Rhone touch the marker, as Mijh was a half step behind and all this in very slow motion.

“Yaheeeee, I beat you both!” cried Rhone.

“That you did. You really beat your brother. And you beat me, but not by much. Lhym, you all right? You look funny.” Mijh said with a quizzical look.

“Fine, I got winded. That’s all. Great job Rhone, you beat Mijh!” Lhym said tying to egg Mijh.

Hidden under a juniper leaf to all but the Schretls, the marker, with a red lightning stroke, warned of the dangers of crossing the Tall Ones’ road.

All Schretls took this warning seriously. With the warning in mind, the boys approached the road cautiously. Here they found a change from the last time Lhym had crossed. The last time the road was made of dirt with small stones mixed in. When it rained, the road filled with deep crevasses that made it very difficult to cross. Now a thick black material that oozed a smelly black liquid covered it. The black material would force the Schretls to climb up to the road making it even more difficult to cross. It also looked like it might be slippery when wet. Mijh was the first to climb up to scout for Tall Ones.

When Schretls were in danger of being spotted by a Tall One, they had the ability to mask themselves in such a way as to seem invisible to the Tall Ones. A combination of changing the coloring of their skin and clothes and bending the light around them caused them to be invisible. This invisibility process, called umsehik, was taught at a very early stage of being cantered. One was supposed to quote sacred passages from the Holy Text and twitch the protruding ridge, starting from the head down to the toes, on their spine. In reality if a Schretl would just twitch correctly, he would feel the slight aura surrounded him. While Schretls could make themselves invisible to Tall Ones and some animals, they were visible to each other with a slight glow around them. The ancient texts never fully explained why Schretls should be invisible to the Tall Ones.. The Sorn preached it and it was accepted.

With a slight glow, Mijh, stood on the new road, peered intensely down one direction and then down the other. Then as he turned to peer down the first direction, screamed, and pointed down the path, “Look out! Brishl!”

Lhym turned and saw a sneering Brishl running down the path followed by his bully friends. Brishl was saying something but he was too far off to hear. Mijh said, “Run, go hide, I’ll lead them off to the other side of the road.” With that, Mijh waved his arms, made an unfriendly jester at Brishl, and started across the road. Lhym took Rhone’s hand and headed down the slight gully along the road. There were plenty of rocks to hide behind from where they could watch. From behind a large grey rock, Lhym saw Brishl reach the road where there seemed to be a long, animated, heated discussion among the protagonists.

In the end, Brishl pointed across the road and one of the bullies darted across. Brishl and the other one started towards where Lhym and his brother were hiding. Lhym and Rhone quietly retreated away but Brishl kept coming. A little further down the gully, Lhym came up to what looked like a cement cave, a little taller than Lhym, going under the road with water trickling out.

“Quick, in here and be very still,” Lhym whispered to Rhone.

Lhym and Rhone entered the cave and made their way into the damp blackness. As the progressed further back into the cave, they could feel more water on their feet.. After what seemed like hours, they could hear Brishl’s buddy yelling something like he couldn’t find anything.

Brishl demanded, “Did you look in there?”

The other said meekly, “No.”

“Well go in and look.”

Lhym heard a few footsteps and then, “I don’t see anything”

“You little ferd-mist, go further in. Wait, I’ll do myself.” Lhym could hear heavier footsteps coming into the cave.

With a nod to Rhone, Lhym and Rhone moved further into the cave and crotched down. Within moments, Brishl, followed hesitantly by his buddy, came within a short distance of them.

“I don’t see anything. I think the water is getting deeper. It’s too dark. They wouldn’t come in here. What if there are other things in here? They must have crossed the road. Let’s go back,” complained Brishl’s buddy. Brishl peered intently right at Lhym and turned to the entrance of the cave with a growl.

After waiting, Lhym and Rhone made their way to the front of the cave, carefully checking to see if anyone was waiting for them. They finally emerged with relief. As they crossed the road, there was no sign of Brishl, or anyone at all,. Neither was Mijh to be seen anywhere on the other side of the road. Lhym worried whether Mijh had had an encounter with Brishl. “Was Mijh all right?”

At this point, the path curved slightly through a grove of pine trees. As a result, a traveler could not see very far down the path. Without a word to each other, Lhym and Rhone moved vigilantly down the path. They saw no one else moving in their same direction or coming from the Fieldwitz village. While they heard birds singing and the usual sounds from other animals, the wind swishing through the pines gave the boys an eerie feeling. As the trees thinned, the path led into a field of clover. Far off in the distance could be seen the steep hills that lead to the Chadwick Mountains and nestled the village of Fieldwitz. Still there were no signs of Mijh. Lhym straightened his clothes, dusted off his father’s satchel that contained the Sorn’s scroll, and made ready for his duties in Fieldwitz. The boys picked up the pace and headed down the path. From here, Lhym thought he could see a group of Schretls headed towards them.

Suddenly from a hiding spot in the clover, Brishl leaped up and raced glaring his teeth toward Lhym.

“Now I have you. You little nip. You back end of a grunttel. You won’t get away from me this time. I’m going to bust you up.” Brishl, without notice, punched Lhym in the stomach and dropping Lhym instantly to the ground in a ball. “You think you’re so great; big on the Sorn’s list. Now you answer to me. Get up!”

As Lhym slowly raised himself to his knees, Brishl hit him in the face. Rhone started to cry and raced toward Brishl flaying his fists. “Grab this whimpering little brat while I teach this nipper a lesson,” commanded Brishl to his cohort.

Before Lhym could rise to defend himself, Brishl again hit him once in his chest and then on his back. Lhym moaned and could feel his eye swelling up. He got to his feet and lunged at Brishl. Brishl stepped aside. As Lhym went flying by him, Brishl stuck up his leg, tripping Lhym again sending Lhym to the ground.

“Woops, you missed me. What have you got in that satchel? I think it belongs to me. The Sorn told me I should deliver it.”

“No!” Lhym said emphatically finally standing up to look at Brishl. “The Sorn entrusted with this. I will do my Holly Heilik. Not you or you and your bullies will stop me!”

Brishl picked up a rock and said, “We’ll see about that.” He charged toward Lhym. This time Lhym was ready and feigned a move to the right, but then turned to the left causing Brishl to lose his balance. There was a slight snicker from Rhone at the sight of the large Schretl almost up ending on the ground.

“Give me that little one” Brishl growled. Brishl grabbed Rhone by the arm. “Give me that satchel now!”

“Don’t you hurt him!” cried Lhym.

“Now!” Brishl demanded.

“You will not get this scroll and you will let my brother go now.” Lhym resounded with a new confidence that surprised everyone including Lhym himself. He was not sure where the feeling came from, but he seemed to know this is what he should do.

“You…..” Brishl spit forth with a guttural sound. He bent Rhone arm and there was a terrible snapping sound. Rhone’s arm bent at a funny angle.

Suddenly a strange glow enveloped Lhym; something like the glow when Schretl’s become invisible to the Tall Ones. But this glow was different. For Lhym all life around him stood still even as he moved. He moved to Brishl striking the arm that held Rhone. Brishl did not move, he did not blink, nor did anybody else move, or anything move. Birds in mid-flap of wings did not move. The wind blowing the clover stopped and the clover remained slightly bent.

“What,” exclaimed Brishl? He had dropped Rhone who had dropped to the ground. Then Lhym seemed to suddenly appear to Brishl’s side. Brishl turned to Lhym.

Again, life stood still. Lhym moved behind Brishl and hit him twice, as hard as he could, on the backs of each knee joint. He then moved to Brishl’s buddy and hit him also. Both Brishl and his buddy fell to the ground. Lhym picked up Rhone and moved to the front of the group. The glow was gone and life started again.

“Huh, ahhh” sounds emitted from the fallen bullies. They stared in disbelief.

“Don’t you ever touch my brother or me again,” Lhym demanded with his newly found confidence.

Brishl’s mouth opened but nothing came out.

A short distance down the path a group of Fieldwitz villagers appeared along with Mijh and Lhym’s Uncle Rhym. After crossing the road, Mijh had waited on the other side when he saw Brishl and his two buddies. There was a lot of gesturing when he saw one of the tormentors starting to cross the road. Mijh turned and ran to Fieldwitz to get help. Mijh explained to Uncle Rhym what had been happening. A group of adults set out to find Lhym. The group intercepted one of the bullies who revealed that Lhym was in serous danger from Brishl. The villagers moved in more quickly in Lhym’s direction. They arrived on the scene just in time to see the strange movement around Brishl. It appeared to them as a young Schretl first on the ground, then magically at the side of the bigger Schretl, then behind him, and then appearing with a small Schretl in front of the two bigger Schretls who had fallen to the ground without any apparent reason.

First, Rhone was attended to by Uncle Rhym; it was determined that his arm was broken. Second, Brishl and his confederates were taken off to the village. Lhym learned later that after thorough investigation that Brishl had been involved in several serous thefts of sacred material. As a result, he placed in a special camp that was to help him with his emotional issues. Lhym never did hear from Brishl again.

At the Fieldwitz village, Lhym, with proper ceremony and dances, presented the scroll to the local Sorn. Declarations were given accepting the scroll and valor that had been displayed by Lhym in overcoming the attack on the scroll was noted. Many people stated how brave they thought Lhym was and how proud they were of him. After the ceremony, the Sorn pulled Lhym aside to say that he had called for Lhym’s parents to come to get Rhone. But also, there were important decisions they needed to discussed about what had happened. They would meet again tomorrow.

So much had happened since Lhym had left his village. Doubts about what he had done filled Lhym mind. He shouldn’t have gone into the DeDeTee. They should have stood up to Brishl earlier rather than hiding in the cornfield. He should have gone back for help at the road. He let his brother get hurt. What happened to him when he confronted Brishl? How could he explain that the world seem to stand still while he was able to move around? Lhym did not sleep well that night.

Lhym awoke the next morning with the same uncertainties. When his parents arrived, he said nothing. His mother spent most of the time with Rhone and his father seemed to be having a lot of quite conversations with Uncle Rhym. The both did say they were proud of him for standing up to that bully and for rescuing his brother. They did not ask Lhym any questions about what had happen and that made Lhym feel even more uneasy. About mid-morning, an official looking Schretl came to the door saying the local Sorn would like to see Lhym and his family now.

This Sorn’s hut was bigger than the Sorn at home. It had a more elaborate fence surrounding it and the hut itself was two stories tall with many windows. The mound for reading the Scared Text was made of several levels with ornaments of garlic and hazel nuts. The Sorn bid them come in to one of the side rooms. This room was fitted with racks of large scrolls and seemed to be where the Sorn did his writing. They sat on cushions of dove feathers.

He started by asking if Lhym parents had had a comfortable journey and how was the Lhym’s brother and Lhym did you sleep well. A special brew of mushroom tea was served.

The Sorn turned to look at Lhym with his black eyes that seemed to read Lhym’s every emotion. He finally asked, “Lhym, can you describe what happened when you were attacked?”

Lhym stuttered out something incoherent.

“It’s alright. You did nothing wrong. I know it must be very strange and a little terrifying. Just tell us as best you can how you defeated that bully,” the Sorn said trying to comfort Lhym.

Lhym relayed everything that happened from the time he saw Brishl at the road until the villagers showed up. He explained the strange feeling he had and how it was like becoming invisible to Tall Ones, but different. How the world seem to stop all around him but that he was able to move. How he had to protect his brother. When Lhym finished he was trembling, his face flushed, and his hands were full of sweat.

“You did right. What happened to you is very special. It is nothing to be ashamed of. You have a gift that only a few Schretls have. I am not knowledgeable enough to explain what you were able to do. I will leave that for others with greater powers to do. Let us keep what happened to you between yourself, your Sorn and me. If this happens again, it is vitally important to tell your Sorn immediately. I want you to continue with your studies, you have a bright future ahead of you. ”

Lhym left the Sorn of Fieldwitz confused. He said that what happen was special. But why then couldn’t he talk about it? What was it that happened?

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