Ozone Hole 41

The story of Cina (Conan)

December 23, 2006

Joel Akin

 Conan rings bells of a bad guy with a sword going around fighting men in bloodthirsty battles for supremacy. Conan did exist but he became a battle warrior by fighting men who had no knowledge. Having knowledge is a gift and those who were ignorant didn’t know they were blind. Finding blind men to fight is like stepping on a mans glasses but sometimes there are things that were needed and they were done.

 Conan began in Rumania and was of the bitter sweet clan. Some called it that because of a barrow root that grew in the area. It held a taste of bitter sweet and it was part of their diet. They lived in simple huts built mostly from stone and thatch and there were few appliances. A simple stove designed to run on dung, a sink which was a tub of stone usually built into the floor to hold their collection of water. Of chairs of wood at this time there were none. Stones and hay were the products they found and lived with. It wasn’t meant to be this way but it was the moon tide hour and that meant that in this region the true sun rose but once a year in a celebration they called Sun tide. It was a celebration of light and most of them were able to bear it for but a few minutes for the light of that sun was so bright they often fell on their faces in fear.

 Some believed it to be God who rose once a year to celebrate life and others thought it a sign of death for those who had died the year before. It did help that there were those who had curiosity even despite the pale Mu for the Mu spoke of ghosts and heartaches and it was the Muon the waters which spoke of journeys to the world of the dead. Some said if you could find the world of Mu you would be rewarded with riches greater than all the kings of myth and history. And women would be added to you greater than could be counted.

 Well Myth was myth but Conan did not understand the confusion he felt as he grew up amidst the plell of the rocky fields. They lived simple lives and they had cattle and sheep and they cared for them and part of his job was to carry the dried dung to the oven for cooking. They had milk and cheese and they had skin made from sheepskin and from leather. There were times he cared for the pasture but his main job in youth was that of liften hay and shiften dung.

 Some of his friends called him a dreamer for he would stare up at the moon and stars and call them things. He didn’t know why but it helped him and there were those who had guesses and stories of the stars but they had had these things passed down from their father and mothers.

 Of enemies there were few. No many wanted the scrib that lay on the ground. It was a touch lichen which the cows liked. They sought after the hay as well and sometimes the heads had grains and those were salvaged when found for the village elder who waited for a season and then went into the head hut and there he made something he called Pan. It was from the few grains and he said it was a promise to the people of Cina that there would be a day when new bread would be brought to them. For there was a beginning time long ago when men had fallen from the stars because of the evil Pan. For Pan had given birth and this was forbidden for men. And today his children lie scattered upon the earth paying the price in dark pan. And they who ate of it did it to remember that if they were to be freed of his curse they must always strive to understand the stars once again.

For Cina Conan he knew these words by heart and the tasteless hard pan reinforced his dreams to know and to understand. In his explorations he ranged farther and had visited some of the neighboring villages. And there they too celebrated the yearly sun rise and the eating of Pan. In most places they sounded very similar to theirs but in one village he found that they had more knowledge. For the Sun rose in the West and that meant something because the Earth had eaten of Pan as well. And when the Earth had eaten of Pan there came a tremendous shaking. Walls of towns fell. Many people died. Fire flared across the heavens. Men sought refuge in caves and holes in the ground.

 Conan did not know if it was a myth or story but there were those who believed and they spoke of the children of Far. On plains far away they lived still. And if men sought them out with a gift they would grant to them knowledge greater than all the wizards in all the known world. Wizards were known for having oddities and this attracted Conan for he desired to be a Wizard. He wished to find out things and wished to explore.

 When he was 18 something happened that began a change in his life. Some might say love but it wasn’t love. It was magic. Now some would honestly say that magic does not exist. I would say that magic is those things we see we cannot explain. There are magicians today who can fool us in many ways. We watch and are mystified. For Conan it was time. Time became magic to him because he discovered someone who understood count. Now count sounds boring. Counting continiously sounded mind boggling but this counting was a little different than counting stars at night. It had to do with counting oneself. A man who had visited the village spoke of count and said that each man had a count. If he was hot his count was high. If he was cold his count was low. If he ran his count was high and so on. No one believed him but he took Conan under his wing and said “I will teach you to count. For Conan it was a whole other world of magic. He did not know that his body produced so many counts. He had listened to his heart beat and felt its thump and many said there lived a tiny man in there that shaped a persons destiny. But no one knew who this Count was. He had been there for several months and he had become known as the Count but Conan wanted to know if counting was a gift of the gods or of the Far people of the plains.

 The Count submitted that he had gained it from his mother and she had gained the gift from hers but he decided it had other benefits and wanted to learn to count things in villages he passed. So he had kept a tally on a small stone he kept in his pocket.

 After awhile the Count requested Conan join him in his  counting. Conan was willing but his father said that he still needed him as his own son. So he bid the count goodbye and that seemed like the end of Count. Conan though used it on occasion and took to counting the stars that were visible. It seemed difficult to see and sometimes he wished he had better eyes.

 When Conan turned 19 there was a celebration in the village that he approached the time of manhood. It was this time when the village elder appointed to him one of the young women from the village. And if there was no pairing found then the Elder and Conan would travel to a village a days journey. If no pairing were found then the village Elder would shake a stick and state “Conan, you have failed to find a pairing. You must travel upon the words of the wind until you have found the reason that you have not found a pair.” And as life so often turns us lemons so it was with Conan that there was no auspicious pairing for him. There were three other pairings made and none of the village girls gave Conan much of a look. Some may ask why and it was became he was poor and weak.

 I know this sounds contrary to history but history sometimes is written in ways that do not always show us the full truth.

 For Conan it was the time of leaving. Not even the need of his father could hold him back. For Conan had reached the age of manhood and must search out the earth until he had found the reason why he could not be pared. There were those who said it was his paleness for he shone white like a ghost, even greater than most. Others said it was his weak shoulders for he could not carry as much as the other men of his age.

 For Conan it wasn’t that he liked being weak it was just that few thought about their meager foods. There was little meat and the milk and cheese and rare pieces of bread were food that sustained some but not him.

 He didn’t know where to go. It wasn’t that he was afraid it was just that setting a path meant following a future of the great unknown. And if there was something out there he wanted to see it. If it were dangerous he wished to find it.

 It is said that fate steps in at auspcious moments. Among the clans of that part of Romania there was one that were called the Gipts. The Gipts were men and women who traveled by cow back and all their possessions were so tied. They lived simply and their clothing was simple. They were heading across the great land to seek their fortune and it was here that Conan asked to join them. They were a happy people and they welcomed him into their arms and into their tents. For they were a people who lived in tents and that was their truest desire.

 If one could speak a moment about the climate of Romania at that time it was cold. Not bitterly cold just cold. The sun came up once a year in the west but it didn’t have much real strength to it and people did not see it as anything more than a sign. They all lived their lives in simplicity because that is all they  had.

 The Gipts were traders and they traveled to various villages spending years before they would return again. They developed several oddities. One was a cart. Conan had never seen one before and yet it seemed to be a perfect possession that for the first time Conan longed to own one. It was pulled by a pair of cattle or a single cow. It held all the possessions they owned that were of value. He saw that they covered it with skins but he wondered if the skins kept the food protected. If it did hold their treasure could he not pull a cart, a smaller one? It had sleds or as they called them runners. Runners he marveled like skating across the ice during the really cold season.

 We could say that Conan was a brave young man. He faced a journey of unknown proportions. During the first few weeks there were few obstacles. He was fed well and he helped with the animals on the journey and help push the cart when it became stuck on jutting rocks no one had seen. These were frequent.

 It wasn’t a jarring change for his life. The people he met had an unusual culture. Besides collecting oddities they had things they called instruments. And these were based on air. Air was a mystery to him. He was told that it came into through his nose and mouth and formed him into a man inside. That it kept him inflated for if air should cease he would become a flat man. That made him want to laugh but he could think of no reason why it might not be true. Who knew what flesh and blood truly were formed from.

 The air instrument was made of bone and leather and it was crafted with holes along one edge. It wasn’t ugly or scary looking for they had polished it so it glinted. It produced a mournful wail he found hard to describe. They called it a Bongahg and it was played and people danced to its strange taunting. He tried not to laugh but the people urged him to join them in the dancing and soon that age of little laughter gave way to a small chuckle.

 There were two Conan made good friends with. One was the one they called the Witsha. She was an elder women who cared for those who were not feeling well. She took Conan under her wing and as they traveled along the path she showed him secrets passed down to her and along with them their stories. One she called the humble sage. It was a small plant that carried an aromatic scent and a bitter root. It was one from which she produced a tincture which could be used to help in cuts and scrapes. There were others that she found which she called Hells Cure and it was a small plant and the first flower Conan had seen. It was tiny and no bigger than a flies speck. He could smell only the faintest of perfumes. She said it could help you for the stomach and for headaches.

 All these things were interesting but the stories with them were even more so. One plant she showed him was called Hells Die and it was made up of two important parts. One was the head and the second was the tiny flower. Witsha told him that it carried the song and it was said that if there were two people who were in love they could hold it and stave off a curse. For in ancient times men had cursed each other and only those who survived were the ones who held the die. And they were the ones to fashion tents that protected them from the curse of the head of hell. She told him it was an evil man who carried great stones and hit men and the very earth. But of him she did not say.

 Conan marveled at the story and wondered at its meaning.

The other friend was one of the young boys who cared for the sheep. He and Conan were given a tent to share and he had helped the lad with his watch over the flocks. The boy was a fount of knowledge and told Conan his stories about the stars he had learned from people on their journey. One which fascinated Conan the most was what he called the great saw blade. For it was shaped up and down like two wedges. The boy had no name for it but said that it held a great curse. That from it men had stolen the soul of the star and carried it to earth. It had tasted of earth and grown into bitterness and the taste of it had turned men into animals. And the animals had all fled to the farthest parts of the earth. There they waited for the star to sing to them and then those who were of life would return to the shape of men once again.

 During one of their nights watching the flock Conan asked the boy if he had ever dreamed. Conan had had a dream and wondered its meaning. The boy said yes but mostly about their journeys. But he wanted to hear Conan’s dream.

 “I saw myself standing and before me was a great deep. I looked and into it a stone fell and the stone hit a face and the face had an eye which opened and looked at me. The mouth spoke and said “Conan, have you decided on your path in life?” I answered “I am on a journey to find a pairing.” The voice answered “That is true. But remember that in pairing there is a joining. Love Conan. Love.”

 Of time to contemplate there was much. Of celebration there was much. They often entertained crowds and from them gleaned gifts. Conan learned to dance and it was this gift that had him paired with one of the women of Wei. The women of Wei were those who had fallen into a dark well of sorrow when their husbands were taken from them by accident or some said wild beast. There dwelled in distant places and crevasses creatures of myth for they were like dark shadows and eyes which hypnotized you into falling asleep. This woman had lost her husband when he had fallen into a creek while testing the ice. Normally they tossed a stone upon the ice but it had held with no problem so Seirru has walked forward and without warning had plunged into the deep of the creek. They had formed a chain with rope to try and find him but he never reappeared. His wife Terrua had wept for days and had stated she would become a woman of the Wei and never marry again. Yet to Conan she treated him as a good friend and they became paired off as dancing partners for entertainment. She taught him dances and it was these things that woke Conan to desire. He had never been this close to a woman and he did not know what to do. He longed for her but could not tell her his heart because she had already told him hers.

 Perhaps it is these tests which were the first fires for Conan. He longed for a pair and was one step short of falling deeply for Terrua and she was looking at him with winks so the women of the Wei wondered if she would pair again. It was not unknown it is just the product of desire.

 By the way I thought it might be fitting to mention women of the wei. Every journey in life carries a story whether we understand it or not. Ways are part of means and means are part of pathways. Pathways are decisions and decisions are like desires. Desire is there to aid us whether it comes to food, to love or to our faith. For Terrua there was a wei choice she had made when Seirru had died. She clung to him and he to her and they had made a perfect pair. They loved each other deeply and the loss was beyond what she could bear. Those of the wei had come to her and shown her that each path lead to another and to another and to another. If she followed the path of sorrow it could lead her to the grave. If she followed the path that seemed hardest it was the path of the wei. And the wei were choices and choices would help her in the future to see life more clearly. So they asked her “What is your path? What is the choices you will make?” For if she were to follow after another pairing life again could take her heart away but that was not to mean she should not follow her heart.

 Well Terrua had chosen the wei and had not regretted it. She had found joy in the dance and it was in the dance that she came out like the yearly sun. She shone with determination and with joy and with vitality. And men watched her in amazement for she had given herself to life. Of all women of the troupe they traveled with there were none who carried the wei of joy as deeply as she. Yet to her Conan was a good friend and despite the winks and wonders of others she had made her choice in life.

Yet knowing this and understanding it fully wasn’t in Conan’s legacy and he would ask her questions of love and of life until she realized that he was seeking more from her. She didn’t want to hurt him but she said “You must seek your own wei. I am not the woman you want.”

 How do you contradict a woman of intelligence and such joy of life? It was a conundrum. Now some might ask if there is a connection between conun and Conan. After all if this took place and the wei was of having ‘none’ then conun would be the desire he would seek. For he would join the wei and go his way and be pairless. It seemed then one would ask “What does the drum mean and there are things to this story which add to the word. To a puzzle. So lets see where it goes.

 Conan had fallen deeply in love with Terrua and had let others know. It was not a large troupe, only 100, and it was within reason that word would reach Terrua quickly. She met him on a rock and they both stared up at the moon. It was about 40 degrees up the horizon and it was a cool night. Not bitter or freezing and the stars were out. They said little at first and Conan was afraid with a sickness in his heart. He was afraid because he saw her face and it was lined with strength and determination. He wanted to get up and walk away into the night. If only he could. But there was a path to follow and no distant fires spoke to him. No distant villages carried a sound. No distant songs carried to him. It was a quiet night and the people were going about their business of sewing or making tools to sell from tiny pieces of wood or stone or bone.

 Terrua sighed and looked at Conan and said “You make a great dance partner. But your timing stinks.” Conan laughed and said “It is my feet.”

 “Do you think you can be happy knowing I have chosen the wei for life?”

“No, I think I would smell and taste you on the air and would weep because I could never lie with you as my heart love. My heart pair. My joining.”

 “I joined the wei because it helped me understand choices of life. That if I chose the easy path and let myself become a woman of sorrow I would go into an early grave. I loved Seirru and he loved me and I was angry because whoever had taken him away did not care for me. I cursed and I screamed and I realized I was angry because no one loved him like I did. I saw the wei as helping me to face the darkest challenges first. I did that and since then I have faced those hard challenges head on. You have become a friend to me and as a friend I can cling to you as a partner of dance but if I carry the desire of love then I am lost. I feel my heart return to pain of Seirru. And I have cried tonight and wept over him again.”

“Then I must pass from your life for I do not wish to dance with you only. And if I carry the pain of the past then I can never be the gift to you that I desire.”

“Please say then that you will carry me with you Conan. For I do not wish to pass this wei but I do not wish to lose your friendship. It is my desire to cling to the wei but hold fast to your caring.”

“How can I carry you Terrua when my heart bursts with love? I would desire you in the night in the passages of your wei I would sing new measures. I would love you with heart counts that would pass understanding. I would sing to the stars and Sun would rise anew and I would carry a wedge that would not let it fall again. This I would do for you.”

“Conan, you sing like a minstrel. You cry like a fool. Yet I still would join you in your quest. For staying with the the Gipts is the way but finding you has become my greatest challenge. And I must deal with it first before I can find an easier road. For if love calls you to me then I must seek out a path of love in the wei. If it is not possible then it is the wrong wei and I should seek a new teaching from the stars.”

 They continued to dance together and Conan grew a little better at singing the songs of Gipts. They talked often and he laughed more and moaned less in his sleep. He had cried out for in the night he had another dream. In the dream he saw a great wedge and he sat upon it as the tiniest speck. He spoke and the wedge moved and he saw the sun and the moon bow to him and they parted from each other and became part of a great ball that joined him in dance around a great circle. He saw a man standing by who winked and then said “Do you wish to join the dance.” It was then Conan looked down and saw the great depth was beneath his feet and there was no place to put himself for he had joined the sun and the moon in a dance between the stars.

 The days wove into weeks and the weeks into months and the trading with towns and villages continued. There was a fine commerce system that worked and the people of the Gipt made fine workmanship. Those along the path also worked with different stone but in one village they found a man who worked with an unusual material. Conan looked at it and was amazed to see it cut through leather easier than the sharpest of stones. He longed for it but the man said he had found it and had few pieces to trade. He said that if he continued on the path he would find a large place filled with many homes and there it was more common.

 Conan marveled over the material and talked to Witsha and asked if she had ever seen stone that was different. She had but with her interest in herbs had passed it by. He asked if she would keep her eyes open on their journey and she agreed.

Until now Conan had not talked to the head Gipts. He was called The Larfel. He had a gift, they said of far sight, and one night the Larfel had brought Conan into his tent and had asked him what he desired from his future. Conan did not hide but said he desired to be with Terrua but waited until she had balanced the wei of her heart. ‘

 I see you coming to a great crossroads. I see you passing to a far land. I see you find love but their face escapes me. I cannot tell you your true path because you have not yet found it. Keep on this path until a new road comes to you. And do not ignore the mysteries of your heart for there is one who speaks and one who hears and one who listens of which you cannot see. He is the one who calls himself Gadel, creator of all things.

 As they continued their journey there were rumors that the Sun was about to rise up on its annual peak. They were struggling to reach what they called the Empty Lay and that was still a week ahead. Conan did not know of the empty lay. It is said that it was part of a world that existed but he could not see it for it was far away yet. And few went there for it carried few bridges and few ways and those who found ways were never heard from again.

 It reminded him of his dream and he spoke often to Terrua about it. She wondered if the man who spoke was the Great Gadel. Conan didn’t know and he pondered these things. She had heard Larfel speak of the great Gadel at council and during times when the great Sun rose in the sky. But he said it was part of the great creation which was. For men had fallen into the well of time and they had no way out for there were none strong enough to carry them. That awoke something in Conan he could not explain and he carried a count in his heart that spoke to him of it and of his desire for Terrua. He wondered if he had heard her speak of the Wei so often that he had become part of it somehow.

 They reached the strand of trees and it was the first that Conan had ever seen. He had heard stories of trees that stood like men in an eternal valley of vigilent solitude. But that must have been a different valley for it was said to be nearer than this one. For he had been on this journey for 9 months and in that time everything in his life seemed to have changed forever. One of the men had been there and showed him how to use the local stones to chip away at one of the fallen trees to make himself a staff. They called it a shar and it was perhaps the neatest thing Conan had owned. There were those who had used slings to scare away predators but this could be used in other ways. He wondered what other uses one could make from wood. Many of them were cutting down some of the smaller pieces and there were those who searched about for wood that was old and dried out and of no particular value and that night they made the biggest fire that Conan had ever seen. Everyone was in a festive mood and they were dancing around it with laughter on everyone’s lips. It was the night before the great tide and there were none who slept as they waited for the great light to rise.

 To call it magical is to leave traces of life unspoken. There are magic words and magic thoughts and stars that occasional fell to earth. Yet none of them spoke of this tide. For though it was not bitterly cold like some say of lands to the North and Far East yet it was this which Conan remembered all of his life. They still had several days travel to the Empty Lay but those with him told him here they could stay for there were those who came up from the Lay on the Sun tide and it wasn’t a time of celebration for all. Only a few had remembered it from long ago when they had gone into the empty land and had followed the path to the great chasm. It was said that there men slept who were of the dead. And they rose out of the lay on the tide of the Sun carrying with them stones and wisps of fog and corners of wood. And with them were animals unheard of and creatures both great and small. And they scoured the land for miles during the course of the Suns tide bearing all they found back with them in the great chasm. Some say those few who survived had gone mad for they claimed to have seen a distant land filled with plants and people and rivers and streams that never ran dry. And there they saw creatures of the air and people walking and though the distance was great they waved. Yet between them was a hole and they said that where they had looked down into the great darkness there were stars below and a sun above them. Everyone knows that stars are always above.

 And so Conan remained mystified by the stories for none of them made sense to him. And he longed to search out the depth of his own heart. For he longed to find that part of himself that made no sense. That part which spoke in dreams and in mysteries and men who spoke of similar things.

It was a story that would soon begin. For there is that called Parting of Wei. In the journey to understand wei a person reaches a crossroads. The crossroads are placed before him in a way that cannot be seen by mortal men. Only within the confines of the heart. It is there that one is weighed in the balance of life and decisions are made. It is there that Conan felt a stirring. A weight. For that which they would find was the village of Shar and that was the final large town before the Empty Lay. Conan knew part of his journey was to find an answer to it and to those stories he had in his heart of a great divide.

 And so the story will continue in a distant chapter as to the further adventures of Conan, Cina, the man of mystery who becomes the King of Justice over the great divide.