Helga: Out of Hedgelands, Rick Johnson [suggested reading txt] 📗

entered one of the arched entrances that ringed the huge oval building. According to tradition, the first to enter were the Sky Elk, the personal representatives of the High One. Decked out in their ornately embroidered gold and scarlet robes, they matched the huge hall set lavishly with dazzling gold and scarlet tiles. Keepers of the stories of the Ancient Heroes and scholars of the heavens, the Sky Elk triumphantly raised their long ceremonial telescopes in sign of rank as they entered the hall. Hedgies tossed strips of colored cloth or string across the long telescopes as the Sky Elk passed, showing honor to these favorites of the High One. Following the Sky Elk came a long train of dignitaries: Glazier Dogs, Stone Ducks, Climbing Lynx, and so on from the highest classes down to the lowest ones.

As the Sky Elk passed through the great entrance doorway, guards on each side of the doorway dropped to one knee as a sign of respect for the High One, the king whose word was law. Appointed by the ‘First One and the Last One’ to rule over the Mountain Tops, the line of High Ones stretched into the misty past. By virtue of his rule over the Mountain Tops, the High One was believed to be the very mouthpiece of the Ancient Heroes. The High One, as King of all Hedgeland, appointed Keepers of the Light who ruled each class according to their work. From this principle of rank, the whole of Hedgie society was ordered.

The clan entrances led into a system of corkscrew ramps. The spiraling ramps allowed huge crowds to enter the High Seat quickly, while keeping the clans separated from each other by rank. Ascending in a series of long winding curves the ramps twined around and around without ever meeting. Walls of translucent stone lined the entrance ramps. Intricate images carved into the stone pulsed with weird, undulating patterns of light. Torchlight behind the translucent stone sent flashing tendrils of light that seemed to make the images move like living things.

As the grand procession filed into the cavernous center of the High Seat, the corkscrew entrance ramps fed the Hedgie clans into their particular level of seating. Each clan was accorded a seat of honor and distinction above the next lower in rank. Sloping steeply downward and away from the center of the Hall, the tiers of seats circled the center like a gigantic inverted cone. From the very center of the cone there rose a cylindrical stone stairway leading to a platform just below the top of the dome.

Among the first dignitaries to enter the High Seat were individuals being accorded special honors. At the very head of the order of dignitaries was a Glazier Dog by the name of FoRoar-2036. Head held high with pride, he marched smartly into the High Seat, receiving honors for his recent history-making completion of the sacred climb.

FoRoar loved the pageantry of the ‘First Touch’ ceremonies—the pungent smell of incense, the brightly-colored tunics worn by differing clans, the stirring music from the gigantic choir, and the solemn chanting of the Keepers of the Light. He reveled in every bit of the pomp and pageantry. Not to a small extent, he was also pleased to be surrounded by the most distinguished and powerful creatures of the Hedgelands. He had brought the highest honor on himself and his clan. In one of the seating areas reserved for honored guests, his mother wept with pride. His sacrifice for the homeland had been worth it.

FoRoar-2036 let his eyes play across the magnificent translucent carvings that covered the walls of the entrance concourse as he entered the High Seat. The carvings flickered in weird, undulating patterns of light. Yet, whatever the pattern, the carvings captured every bit of light as if it were flame—seeming to pulse with life before FoRoar’s sight. His heart beat more rapidly. All the heroic scenes in the majestic story of the Hedgies were recorded in these masterpieces. Each told of the great events and famous heroes in the days when the world was young.

Foremost in FoRoar’s mind today was the carving honoring Clear Water. It showed Clear Water coming at a time when the creatures were dying from a terrible, unknown disease. An intricate design portrayed Clear Water as a visionary healer who saw that travelers were carrying disease into the Hedgelands. Images depicted him turning travelers away and not letting them come again.

To prevent deadly diseases from ever again being brought in from outside, travel was forbidden. A great hedgewall—the Forever End—was planted, and for over a thousand years, it was extended, year-by-year. Trunks and branches of hedge trees were carefully woven together as they grew. It became a ‘living wall’ impossible to penetrate. The great Hedge ran for thousands of miles—a vast enclosure surrounding the Hedgelands. Once it was completed, travel beyond the Hedge almost completely ceased. FoRoar-2036 honored the work of the forefathers who had so wisely protected the creatures.

“Hear and listen, all Hedgelanders! Hear and listen!” The cry of the Sky Elk herald brought FoRoar-2036 out of his reflections. The ceremony was about to begin.

“Today,” the herald went on, “we mark a beautiful milestone in the sun’s walk through the heavens. As the sun touches Clear Water Peak, that Ancient Hero’s spirit is at home on earth, reminding us of his teachings. Through this annual renewal, the world again is given the gift of rebirth. As the sun moves through all the ‘First Touch’ Days, each of the gifts of creation is renewed.”

Then a great blare of trumpets jarred him back to attention. The herald had finished his speech and the Keepers of the Light, representing all ranks, chanted the ancient verse of loyalty to the High One. Kneeling in front of all those assembled, the Keepers of the Light affirmed their loyalty to the High One:

When lofty First One, king of the Mountains,

and Last One, king of the Creatures,

Who rules all that is, Gave the Mountain Tops

to the firstborn of the High One, He made Great Peace,

When the Mountains quit their shaking,

and the Creatures stood and spoke it was so.

When in the midst of the Mountains the creatures

became One in the High One’s Law,

The First One and the Last One

made Mountains and Creatures one,

So the High One rules,

As long as the sun touches the High One’s realm,

He enlightens the Creatures.

What Light we have is from Him,

and any Light we find,

We keep solely by His grace.

When the chant was complete, the Sky Elk’s Keeper of the Light rose to read the High One’s annual Royal Proclamation. 

A hush fell over the vast hall. All eyes were fixed on the Sky Elk’s Keeper of the Light as he slowly and majestically mounted to the high speaker’s platform. No one spoke. Once the Keeper of the Light had begun his climb to the place of honor, it was considered an insult against the High One to speak before the High One’s proclamation had been read. The high platform was silhouetted from above by a large starburst of deep red glass tiles illuminated by the only opening to outside light. Unlike the undulating multicolored shimmer of the torchlit entrance ramps, the platform—and whoever stood there—was surrounded by a blazing red glow. The cone arrangement of the tiers of seats placed every beast in a position to look up at the platform—silhouetting the speaker on the platform in the red starburst. It was a stunning sight.

As the Keeper of the Light ascended toward the platform, an organ—used only on this annual occasion—began playing. The high curving ceiling of the High Seat amplified the organ notes into an astonishing musical thunder. The sound rose to an eerie roar as the Keeper of the Light reached the platform. It rattled candleholders, shook doors, and every beast present felt the vibration in his or her chest. The overall effect of music, pageantry, crowding, and light was both mesmerizing and terrifying.

This year there was a special feeling of mystery in the air that had never been present before. Whispers and mutterings said the High One’s proclamation would be like no other year. Confused and conflicting rumors flew that for the first time in Hedgelands history, the High One had recalled his proclamation! In the days since the unheard of attack by a rebellious Wood Cow, the High One had been silent. Rumors said that Fropperdaft VIII was preparing some great and drastic punishment for the Wood Cows. But there had been no message or sign of any kind from the royal sovereign. The rumor that the annual proclamation had been recalled was ominous.

By the custom of ages, Weasel Couriers delivered the High One’s proclamation to the Keepers of the Light in every village several days in advance of Clear Water’s Day. This allowed the Keepers of the Light to know what the proclamation contained and be prepared to implement its message. As always, Weasel Couriers had delivered the proclamation to each Keeper of the Light. But, three days after the proclamation was delivered, the unprecedented attack by the rebel Wood Cow occurred.

The attack shocked and alarmed Fropperdaft to his very core. Such rebellion could not be condoned. The Wood Cows had always been problems. Long ago, the Wood Cows first got into trouble with the High Ones because of their great love for trees. Trouble and hard feelings arose between Wood Cows and the High Ones because the Wood Cows defended trees from rude treatment or abuse. Most Hedgies considered things growing from the earth to be unclean and contemptible. Since trees had the deepest roots into the earth, they were treated the worst. But Wood Cows, from time immemorial, had refused to burn wood in fires. And they built with wood as if it were a holy act. Wood Cows always invited a tree to become a chair or a table or a building. They would never simply go out and cut a tree down. This was a deep affront to the teachings of the High Ones, but it was not the worst of the Wood Cow offenses.

Wood Cows said that they could hear the voices of trees—that the trees talked to them. Many of the Hedgies, especially from the ruling classes, made jokes about the Wood Cows talking to the trees. Wisecracks abounded.

But, at the same time, everyone, including the High Ones, knew that the Wood Cows were the best carpenters and wood-workers around. Their work was flawless. The wood they used to make tables and chairs was renowned for its quality and beauty. Their workmanship was second to none. They were masters of the woodworking craft.

“How can you expect a tree to give you its best wood, if you do not ask it for help first?” the Wood Cows said. “First invite the tree to help you, and if it agrees, it will give you its very best wood. Self-sacrifice is a noble, essential part of the order of things, but it cannot be forced or taken—self-sacrifice must be freely given. When it is freely given, it bestows the greatest beauty on its purpose. So it is with trees also. Why do you wonder when the wood has cracks and splits? If you treat the tree rudely, this is what you will always get. Listen to the trees and see what beauty lies within them, then invite them to help you. Beauty awaits in that direction only.” Such Wood Cow ‘superstitions’ filled generations of High Ones with fury.

No one knew exactly what the Wood Cows heard when they listened to the trees. “If you have a heart for the trees, and treat them as your friend, they will speak in