The Revolutions of Time Read online

  It was in the last stages of sleep that I began to feel the warm morningsun strike my face, and hear the pleasant chirping of birds andcrickets. I rolled slowly over, stretched my legs and my back, and stoodup, with the last remnants of a dream playing quietly in my mind. But asI came to my feet and got a clear view of where I was, I realized it wasnot a dream that I had had at all, but something far more sobering. Ifound myself somewhere in the center of a very large prairie whichcovered the land for many miles around. From the sun's lowly position onthe eastern horizon, it was evident to me that the new day was justdawning, casting a golden hue on the grasses that covered the prairie'ssurface.

  Around the distant outskirts of the plain I could make out a ring oftrees circumventing the whole, waving almost imperceptibly to and fro inthe light breeze that was blowing. A few miles to the southwest therewas a group of odd looking trees stretching up over the horizon to aconsiderable height. They were closer than the outer ring, which kept auniform girth around the prairie, but somehow they looked very peculiarand foreboding, and I got one of those sobering feelings which I like tocall predestined deja vu. What I mean is that I got a sense of deja vu,but instead of the past converging with the present into one thought,the present seemed to converge with the future, and the result was amysterious foreboding of something, though I couldn't tell what. That isthe sensation that I had when I saw what I assumed to be a smallgrouping of trees somewhere in the southwestern portion of the savanna,though that was merely a guess, for in the distance I could only makeout several dark forms rising out of the grassland like trees, orpossibly buildings, one of them being a great deal taller than theothers, with a spherical shape on top that only faintly resembled atree's crown. If it was indeed a tree, it was the largest that I haveever seen, for it looked to be upwards of 800 feet tall.

  My mental warning bells were ringing quite loudly, and I endeavored tosilence them by extreme exertions of the will, but they would not besubdued. I assumed that they were not at all correct, much like thefearful expectancy some have while swimming in the ocean, out of sightof all land, of being attacked by an enormous leviathan of the deep. Asunfounded as the fear is, it places one into a frenzy of dubiousthoughts that inspire equally frantic and anarchist actions. Because ofthis, I thought that my ideas were naught but superstitious fancies, yettry as I might, I could not rid myself of them.

  Instead, I made up my mind to set off in the opposite direction, north,and to advance at a double march until I should reach the woody border,which looked to present shelter not only from the southern apparitions,but also from the shielded underworld of the grasses, in which alsodwelt the mysterious sense of fear and predestined deja vu. It wasslightly chilly, but beyond that nothing defaced the temperate beauty ofthe day, and even that promised to soon dissipate with the continualstrengthening of the sun's warmth. As I walked, or rather, trottedalong, it did just that, and in the growing warmth of the day the sweetfragrances of the many various grasses rose to the surface, delightingmy odor perceiving sensors with their earthy simplicity.

  The day marched on, and with it I, and the distant wall of trees beganto slowly grow closer. At length, I found myself at their edge, ataround the noon hour, and as I came upon the first of them, I leanedagainst the trunk of a large, thickset tree for a moment of repose andreflection in its shade. It was by all appearances an ancient wood, forthe line between it and the prairie was distinct, appearing as if theshrubs and lesser flora had acquiesced to fate and retreated beyond theforest's claimed boundaries, rather than continue for countless ages tocharge and then be pushed back, to gain a foothold only to be thrown outa year or two later. The trees themselves were mighty pinions ofstrength, tall and of great girth, and spread far apart from oneanother, leaving wide open spaces between their towering trunks. Ashort, soft grass clothed the land that stretched on in their midst,joined in its solitude by a hearty looking moss that stretched itselfout on the trunks of the trees and on the rocks and boulders that layscattered here and there among the open spaces. Far above, the trees'great branches spread out a thick canopy, covering the whole of theforest area in a relaxing and invigorating twilight, rendering itselfhomely and quaint. After a few moments of enjoying that most pleasingscene, I roused and extricated myself unwillingly from its enchanteddepths and set off once more into the heart of the woods, having nowhere else to go.

  After a time, I cannot say how long, I came upon a small, tricklingstream which flowed deeper into the woods, that direction beingnorthward. A short walk along its path, after refreshing myself tocontent with its pure waters, brought me to its destination: a largelake into which the forest opened. Its banks were very gradual and thegrass of the woodland led right up to the water's edge. The surface ofthe water itself was smooth and delicate.

  Amidst the pleasantness of the scene, there was something missing fromthe feel of the area: inhabitants. There was an abundance of wild lifeof all kinds, and much organic life as well, but something greater thanflora or fauna was missing: people. I had traveled so far, and withoutany sighting of a person. It was a lonely and desolate feeling whichprevailed, despite the abundances of life. Novelties soon grow worthlesswith no one to share them with, ideas become meaningless if notcommunicated timely, emotions grow boisterous and uncontrollable with noend to receive them.

  I was quite alone, unfortunately, and it dampened my spiritsconsiderably. Feeling despondent, I turned and walked sullenly from thelake's edge into the woodland once more, with no definite purpose inmind, only a meandering thought of my dismal situation. My thoughtsmorphed, in succession, from anxiety to despair, to anger, tofrustration, and in my frustration I knelt down and picked up a fallenbranch from the ground, walked to the nearest tree, and eyed a strange,protruding knob that stuck out from the trunk. I held the branch atshoulder's length and swung it at the knob with all the force of mybuilt up emotions. It hit with a crash and a hollow thud, leaving thebranch broken and my arm sore, but the knob undamaged.

  But then something unexpected happened: with a grating noise, a smallhole appeared part way up the trunk, coming from what looked to be solidwood, for no sign was seen before of its having an opening. From thenewly opened hole was then thrust out a head, hairy and with a shortsnout-like edifice for a nose and mouth. Its eyes and the furry hairwhich covered its face were brown, and a few wily whiskers protrudedfrom its snout. With a look of utter surprise, as if it had not expectedme as much as I had not expected it, it eyed me closely for a moment andthen looked anxiously from side to side and told me to come in.

  When those words passed its lips, or whatever artifice it spoke from, agreat weight fell from my shoulders. After a short moment, quickened bymy relief, a door appeared in the trunk of the tree, its edgespreviously hidden behind the thick mosses. Swinging inwards, it openedand revealed the creature standing there, beckoning me to enter. I did,and the door shut behind me, leaving me in the darkness of the hollowtree.

  Chapter 3: Zards and Canitaurs