The Lecture: Glimpses of a Journey

I.

The children stared wide eyed at the young woman standing in front of them. They knew her, of course, but only as the tyrannical teacher of their older siblings. Their eyes widened further when the fearsome warrior knelt before them, bringing her self to their level.

"Now, little ones, your teacher had to leave for a while so I'll be substituting for her. I'm not sure what you normally do, so will you help me? What would you like?" The loving smile on her face brought forth answering smiles.

One little girl stood up, "Yori sama, could...could you tell us about the master?" One small foot scuffed nervously.

"What would you like to know?" Yori asked in puzzlement, "I thought he spent time with you?"

"He does!" A chorus of eager voices answered her. One boy stood smiling, "But, he never talks about himself!"

"Yeah." The first girl agreed. "How...how...?"

Yori leaned forward in question.

The boy blurted out, "How did he become the chosen one?"

The dam burst. "Can he do anything?" "Did he really fight giant monkeys?" Are you his wife?" "Where did he come from?"

Yori held her hands up in mock fear. "Enough, enough." She laughed, "I cannot tell you all. No, I am not his wife. His wife is far away. Yes, he did fight and conquer giant monkeys. As to whether he can do anything...that is a question that has not been answered." She thought for a moment. "It is almost your nap time. Why don't you lie down on your mats and I will tell you a story of the master's journeys?"

Small bodies scrambled for their places. Sparkling eyes locked on her in curiosity.

"Now, once the master journeyed through a distant land...."

II.

Ron Stoppable leaned on his staff, staring at the valley below him. Tired, hungry, thirsty, with his skin abraded from the sand embedded in his clothes, he debated stopping. The monk had not mentioned this green growing place. Of course, "Go North, young master, what you seek will be found" wasn't exactly Rand McNally. Ron lifted his arm and sniffed. He felt the dirt grind in his armpit. "If nothing else, I can get a bath in the stream." He grimaced. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he strode down the slope.

Still tired and hungry, but clean, with his thirst slaked, Ron walked down the overgrown path into the town, the setting sun too his back, his thoughts on food. The nearer he got, the more his senses screamed. He stopped, looking, listening intently. "It's quiet. Too quiet."