Feeling Gravity's Pull

"Do you want to keep pushing on?" I asked The Bishop.

Undecided, he remained silent in front of us, looking off of the main road and down the slope to the valley below and the mountains beyond.

The Lizard was due back in the citadel, her ascension ceremony and appointment as Ambassador for The Order being imminent. Thus, after a continued silence, I turned to her, expecting the usual nod for me to continue forward down the path, but she simply stared at our friend, a pained look in her eyes.

It had been a rough journey. The Master had worked his arcane art to restore the power of The Bishop's visions. The results were mixed, prompting a long recovery of my friend's body and mind.

But it was his spirit that was most in need of rebirth. The Order had refused The Bishop leave to see The Master, and I sensed an infinitesimal weight had tipped unseen scales.

"It's ok." The Lizard broke the silence. "I now know it's the right thing for you to do."

The Bishop nodded, embraced her and said, "Send me word of your final decision on accepting the post, and I'll let you know how I fair. Our paths may run parallel and allow us to ride together."

Grasping my hand, he instructed, "Make sure she reaches the citadel," and then he turned down the slope.

We watched him, moving away from us, into the valley toward the sun.

The Lizard started to cry.

"Are you sad because you are afraid of what events he has started in motion?"

"No Genghis, I'm happy for him. By bravely letting that slope carry him away from his closest friends, he is deciding to end a long cycle of abuse."

I contemplated this, offering "When you are safely back at the citadel, I will set out to accompany him."

"Good," The Lizard approved. "He'll benefit from your strength."

"Certainly, but I'm curious to see what occurs in that valley and over those mountains!"

The Karma of Coffee

It had been a good morning ride - bright and cool, steeds swift and sure. The aroma of my beverage filled my senses as I watched The Lizard consume porridge outside the roadside cafe, while simultaneously keeping conversation with a two other, obviously bewildered, patrons.

A tara approached with her driver. She was voluptuous, and atypically clad, but exuding pleasant compassion. They entered the cafe, and we continued relaxing with our second-breakfast.

As the tara exited the cafe, her servant carried her meal and his beverage to their conveyance. Helping her up, he laid his beverage upon the cab of their carriage. Forgetting his drink, he entered after her and prepared to disembark.

"Your coffee!" The Lizard projected, unheard by either the tara or her driver.

In typical form, The Bishop had already moved forward, clumsily covering the space between our table and the carriage. The driver looked concerned at first, The Bishop focused on arresting any movement of the carriage.

The tara simply looked puzzled, seeming to understand The Bishop meant no harm. Her visage transformed into a smile, as The Bishop reached up above the carriage, grasped the driver's cup, and carefully placed it in the owner's hand. The Bishop turned as quickly as he had started and returned to our table, his duty fulfilled.

The tara called after him, "You've earned yourself much coffee-karma, my good ecclesiastic."

The Bishop appeared to politely acknowledge the tara's blessing, but I could see his hue change perceptibly.

"He deserves good karma," The Lizard whispered, "after all he has been through these many months."

"These many years." I corrected, and took another draught of my coffee.

It was a fine morning indeed.