When The Earth Was Young

Chapter 1 - The Magic Mushroom

Long ago, when the world was still young and soon after the million year rains, lived two brothers. They were still boys and had not yet been given their true-names. In those days your true-name was not given at birth, it had to be discovered. The world was a different place in that time, greener, more mysterious and filled with smells and sounds that have been long forgotten. The brothers were coming to the age at which they would have to travel alone, find their name and return as adults.

“Arsac, can you help?” Ison was dragging cooking wood toward the house. Arsac looked at his brother, smiled, and looked back down again at what he had found. Between his feet was a peculiar mushroom with a short white stem and a red spotted cap. Arsac had seen many mushrooms while helping his mother gather food in the forest, but never one that looked like this. It looked like it had sprung freshly from the ground, needles and dirt still falling from it. As he watched, it began to move in a lazy, spiraling circle and continued to grow. When it had stopped, it was as tall as his head and the stalk was as thick as his thigh.

“Ison, come here!” he called to his brother. Ison dropped the cooking wood and ran to join his brother. “What do you think it is?” he asked with clenched teeth. He was fighting the urge to run and hide from this strange thing. It had stopped moving though, and it seemed less threatening standing still in the morning light. He gathered his courage and reached out to touch it. At his touch, the mushroom jumped back causing both brothers to let out little involuntary yips in their surprise. The mushroom was standing in a new place now, several feet from where it had come out of the ground. If you looked closely what may have been feet seemed to poke from the bottom of the stalk. Maybe not a stalk after all, for as they watched the stalk separated into two long and spindly legs, soft and fibrous, buckling slightly as they moved. As they looked up, they could make out an abdomen, arms, a neck, a small face and the large, red, spotted cap. The mushroom, if that’s what it really was, swayed and buckled slightly under its own weight, then found its strength and stood up straight. As they watched, the limbs grew thicker and more fibrous, the face grew more distinct, and the arms began to move.

Rooted in place, almost as if they had grown from the ground themselves, they stared with mouths open at this thing taking form in front of them.

Chapter 2 – The Mushroom Girl

Standing before them was a fully formed mushroom girl. She was as tall as Arsac and clothed in a dress made of mushroom bits, pine needles, dirt and bark. She had large eyes, a button nose and freckles on each cheek that looked like specks of brown dirt. She blinked a few times, looked at the boys and smiled. Arsac and Ison saw the smile and felt they were safe. Arsac spoke first, “Are you a mushroom or a man?” The mushroom girl blushed and opened her mouth. What came out didn’t sound like words. It sounded like leaves rubbing together, walking in soft wet dirt, and the rustling of things in the brush. The boys both tilted their heads to listen more carefully. The sound must have come from her mouth but it sounded like it came from behind her, behind them, above them and below them all at once. She opened her mouth again and this time it sounded like animals sleeping and smelled of something soft and warm. Ison sat down and crossed his legs. Arsac looked at the mushroom girl and blinked. She opened her mouth once more and this time the noise sounded like human speech, but rich and earthy and nothing like a human girl. “I am neither a mushroom or a man, have you no education?” she said. Arsac was embarrassed and said, “I’ve learned to hunt, to gather plants and nuts and fruits, to read the times of day and the seasons of the year, to speak so that animals come to me and plants grow faster, to tell the weather, and to know when danger is near. But I have never seen something like you.” Ison stood up and said, “Are you a spirit?” The girl laughed and said, “I’m neither spirit nor man but something else instead.” She turned and she walked from them into the trees, never looking back, vanishing into the mixed light of branch and leaf and bush.

Ison and Arsac suddenly noticed that it had gotten dark and realized more time had passed than they knew. The sun was low in the sky and a chill was creeping into the air, so they made their way back toward their home, silent and filled with the wonder of what they had seen.

Nanna knew more than anyone else about the mushroom people. She knew their hidden names, knew the role they had played in the creation of the world, and knew that it was very good luck to meet one. She had never heard of anyone talking to a mushroom girl, so when she heard the boy’s story she went deep into thought. She placed her chin on her hand, closed her eyes and hummed. She hummed an old song she had learned when she discovered her true-name, a song that helped her think and search inside herself for the truth. When she was done humming, she opened her eyes and looked at Arsac, “Tell me again what the mushroom girl said to you? What were her exact words?” Arsac squinched up his eyes into his best remembering face and said, “I am not a spirit or a mushroom or a man, but something else.” Nanna, thought about this longer and said, “Arsac, it is your time. It is clear to me now. This mushroom girl was calling you into the forest to test you and to help you discover your true name. You must go seek her out and learn what you can from her. Meeting a mushroom girl gives you luck, it is time for you to go on your great adventure.” Arsac stood up said, “Yes Nanna,” and ran as fast as he could, Ison running behind him, until he arrived breathless in front of his parents.

Chapter 3 – The Great Adventure

The preparations were complete, his parents had outfitted Arsac with a traveling cloak, a pouch full of food, and a stout stick in case he came upon wild animals. They had spent the night telling stories, singing songs, and eating freshly roasted meats and nuts. Arsac stood by himself on the path that led into the forest facing his parents and Ison. His father had told him he was brave and strong. He didn’t feel brave but he felt proud and excited to get started. With a last farewell, Arsac shifted his pouch, tightened his cloak around himself and turned toward the trees. He walked all morning on paths that he had known since he was very young. Some were so familiar he could remember them from his mother’s back before he had learned to walk on his own.

At mid-day he stopped, sat on a log, and pulled out his lunch. He was on a hillside overlooking a small stream tumbling into the meadows below. For the past hour he had been walking through country that was new to him. Steeper, wilder, filled with trees and plants that he was unfamiliar with. The trees were taller here, their leaves broader than he was used to. He ate in silence, listening to what he could hear around him. He heard his own breathing and the beating of his heart slowing down as he rested. He could hear the stream make a cheerful burble below him as it ran over rocks and under drift-logs. He could imagine the fish hiding in shadow and eddy, but he couldn’t hear them. He could hear the leaves around him rustle slowly in the light breeze. He could see the light streaming from the sun straight above him in its mid-day position. He could imagine its path from the top of the sky, in a slow arc, down to the horizon where it would flare in color and leave the world dark until it returned in the morning.

Arsac was startled from his daydream by the sound of something moving through the trees in front of him. He squinted through the mix of light and shadow but couldn’t see anything. He stood up, shouldered his pouch and moved off the path toward the noise. If it was an animal, perhaps he could talk to it or catch it as a guide. He could hear the noise moving in front of him and occasionally he could see a bush or small tree shake from its passage. When he walked faster he got no closer to it, when he slowed down it did not get far ahead of him. After a few minutes he was far from his path and deep into a strange and wonderful forest. The trees were older here, covered with moss. Ferns grew from the ground and even from the trunks of the trees high above his head. Large leaves blocked most of the light and made it feel later in the day than it was. The air was cooler, moister and easier to breath. The trees became more widely spaced with dense leaves and needles underfoot, making it easy to walk. A feeling of lightness came over Arsac, he felt he could walk all day.

Arsac walked over the top of a small ridge and looked down into a perfect little pool. It was very nearly round, ringed evenly by large trees whose roots went visibly down into the water, drinking deeply. The ground was soft and spongy, a light mist rose from the surface of the water. Arsac knelt beside the pool to take a drink, looked into the water and felt suddenly dizzy. The water was so still that he could see a perfect reflection of himself, the trees and the circle of sky above him. Through the reflection he could look into the unnaturally deep pool. Small points of light swam before his eyes tracing lazy, irregular patterns. As he looked longer, his eyes swam out of focus and the lights became large and blurry. He looked up, shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Suddenly tired, he curled up beside the pool, knees pressed against his chest, and fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter 4 – The Pool

While Arsac slept, the spirits of the pool stirred from their depths. Their lazy patterns tightened into swirls and arcs of color. They moved up into the pond, churning the surface with currents of shifting water. Emerging from the pool they took the form of small winged fairies. Flying about in the night air, they moved toward the enchanted boy, casting strange flickering shadows that frightened the night animals and caused them to scurry away. They swirled over Arsac, lighting his sleeping face and ruffling his clothes. With tinkling laughter they tugged at his sleeves and the hems of his pants. As a group, they lifted his pouch from the ground, took his stick and rolled his cloak off of him. They took one last look at his sleeping face, giggled and left him with the clothes on his body but nothing more.

Arsac stirred awake with stiff legs and back. Forgetting where he was, he stretched to his full length and said, “Ison, what time is it?” Hearing nothing, sensing he was in a larger space than his bedroom at home, he opened his eyes and looked up into the night. The stars were bright and sharp, no moon and dawn was hours away. He reached for his cloak to wrap himself against the night-chill and found that it was missing. He stood up tingling, alert to danger and realized that his things were gone and he was alone in this strange place.

Feeling small and sad, Arsac crawled to the edge of the pool and looked in. The surface, now calm and still, reflected the stars above him mixed with the lights below. He could see the fairies moving in the water and he knew they had taken his things. He felt they were laughing at him and he felt miserable and stupid. He was on the first night of his adventure and had already been tricked, enchanted and robbed. He could feel their enchantments working on him again but he didn’t care. He would fall asleep and forget his sadness and shame. His eyes grew heavy and the lights once more became large and blurry as they swam across his vision. In the depth of his despair and self-pity, he felt a strong hand grasp his shoulder pull him back from the pool onto firm ground and into full wakefulness.

In the receding glow of the pool, its lights circling into the depths, Arsac saw a sturdy creature with gnarled arms and a thick trunk of a body. Each hand had long fingers with wood-knots for knuckles. His legs were twisted with feet that buried themselves into the ground. He had a long face with a lopsided nose, moss for hair, and large ears. The creature’s voice was thick and gruff but his eyes were kind, “Little human, you should be careful here. Those fairies are mischievous creatures. If you aren’t careful they could make sport of you for weeks. When you finally emerged you’d be naked, confused, half starved and lost.” Arsac, was unsure how to respond, “Who are you?” he said. The creature’s eyes grew wide and his ears waggled back and forth, “Well now, I am one of the tree people. Just look at me and you’ll see the truth of it.” Arsac had to admit that the creature looked very much like a tree and on this night he was willing to accept any magic he saw. “Follow me,” the tree-man said, “I’ll help you out of this place.” He turned and walked with slow, steady steps away from the pool and into the trees. It was dark in the forest and to avoid getting lost, Arsac followed as close as he could. Soon they entered a meadow that was softly lit with silvery light, the grass slightly wet with the pre-morning dew, flowers closed up tight and waiting for the sun. The forest was dark around them, the purple sky bordered by trees and spattered with stars.

The tree-man sat back with a groan and looked at Arsac, “I don’t like those fairies. They move too fast, make too much noise and think too much of themselves. They enjoy themselves at the expense of others. If you ask me, they live with far too little seriousness, everything is a game to them.” He sighed and looked away, “You wouldn’t know it looking at me, but long ago I was a much less serious fellow. I was a young sapling and I loved the touch of the sun, the feel of the rain on my leaves, the good dirt beneath me. Ah, the making of flowers and fruit, the feel of pollen, releasing my seeds into the earth.” He looked back at Arsac, “But I am forgetting myself. Life is a serious business and you must treat it seriously if you wish to live a good, long life. I am telling you this so that you understand that the ways of the fairies are not the right ways to live.” He closed his eyes and became silent.

Arsac, couldn’t tell if he was going to speak again or if he had fallen asleep. Perhaps he had returned to being a tree, in fact he looked more like a tree now than ever. Arsac, worked up his courage and said, “Excuse me, uhm, Mr. Tree. I understand what you mean about fairies. It isn’t nice to make fun of people and take their things. I’ve known boys like that, they would run after the smallest, shyest, littlest ones making fun of them and hoping to see them cry. If being serious means you treat others nicely, then I am happy to be serious.” The tree-man opened his eyes and smiled, “You are a good boy, I can tell. Did you say they took things from you? What did they take?” Arsac told him about his cloak, pouch and stick. The tree-man seemed especially offended by the taking of the stick, “I have a good feeling about you, and we cannot let the theft of any tree-part go unpunished. I will show you how to sneak into the home of the fairies and get your things back. According to ancient fairy law, if you are able to retrieve your things you may take three items of your choosing from the fairies in return. But be careful, if they awake and find you in their home they will be very angry. They have strong magic and within their home I cannot help you. If you return without being discovered, you will be safe and the fairies will never have the power to harm you again.”

Arsac considered this and asked, “How do I find the fairy home? How do I keep them from waking up and discovering me?” The tree-man narrowed his eyes, his face grew very serious, looking even more like the wood of a tree, “The entrance is here in this meadow, it is why I brought you here. You must move quickly and silently, like the mouse in the ground. I will show you where to go and then you are on your own. Are you ready?”

Chapter 5 – The Fairy House

While they were talking, the sky had turned pink with the new dawn and the stars had faded. The tree-man took Arsac to the edge of the meadow where a curious looking house stood at the boundary of the trees and grass. The house was made of strips of bark with twigs placed over the entrance to make a door. A path of flat stones led from a small garden to the house. The scene was both inviting and lonely, like finding a boarded up home when you are lost and need shelter from the coming night.

The tree-man stopped and looked at Arsac, “This is an old, nearly forgotten entrance to the fairy’s house. They have grown accustomed to using the pool and haven’t thought about this doorway for many years. Fairies are thoughtless and easily forget things, you’ll see.” As he walked away across the meadow he said, “Don’t worry, things will go well for you, fairies are lazy and sleep during the day. Retrieve your things carefully and be careful not to wake them.”

Arsac knelt before the entrance and began to pull the sticks away so that he could get through. He could tell the entrance had been unused for a long time, all types of insect had made their home in the bark and twigs. He felt nervous as he worked, “What will happen to me if the fairies wake up and find me in their home? They’ve already taken my things, what else might they do to me?” He stood up with his heart beating hard in his ears. Maybe he should give up and return home while he still could. “What would my parents say if I ran home having lost my things and without finding my true-name?” He knew his parents and Ison would be disappointed in him if he quit now and returned without finishing what he’d set out to do. He knelt down and peered into the doorway, it was just large enough for him to fit through if he crouched. The house was dark inside and he could feel cold drafts that smelt of earth and rotting wood. Mastering his fear, Arsac pushed his way through the entrance and entered the dark room.

He crouched for a few minutes, breathing rapidly, waiting for magic to envelop him or enchant him in a strange way. After a while his eyes adjusted to the dark and he realized he was safe for the moment. Looking around he saw a small table and a couple of chairs covered with dust, dirt and fallen bark from the ceiling. There were three doors on the far wall, one of which was open and revealed stairs that sank deeper into the darkness. Arsac was much larger than a fairy and he nearly filled the small room, so he moved carefully in a crouch to the doors. The two closed doors were locked tight and would not budge in their frames so he entered the open door and began to climb down the stairs. Each step was very small so he had to be careful not to slip and fall. Using the dirt walls and ceiling to keep his balance he moved slowly downwards. As he crept down he noticed the air growing cooler and moister. Arsac wasn’t in complete darkness, the way was lit by small glowing bulbs growing from the dirt walls. He was cramped and uncomfortable and didn’t know how much further the stairs would lead, so the dim light gave him some comfort.

Eventually he came to a plain room at the bottom of the stairs. It had a stone floor and smelled of damp earth. Arsac felt that the weight of all the dirt above was pressing down upon him, it was hard to breath and his heart was pounding hard. He could feel the touch of magic about him, like spider webs brushing against his face. His skin tingled and the top of his head began to crawl and itch. At the end of the room was an ornate metal door with intricate, curling decorations carved both into the door and into the stone frame it sat in. The doorknob was shaped like a small head with a grinning face. In the dim light Arsac couldn’t tell if the smile was kind or hostile. Trembling slightly, Arsac put his hand on the doorknob and began to turn it. To his surprise it was warm to the touch and turned easily. The door opened smoothly and flooded the small room with a radiant light that blinded his eyes, they had grown so accustomed to the dark.

Squinting and shading his eyes, Arsac tried to make out what lay before him. After a moment he could see a large room, taller than it was wide, and perfectly round. The ceiling appeared to be made of water, as if he was looking up at the surface of a pond. The space between him and the water was filled with spiraling lights that cast a flickering happy glow on everything below. They pulsed and chased each other, changed colors, and created patterns in the air. Below the lights, tumbled on the soft ground, were the fairies. They were piled in a heap, sleeping and snoring little snores. Their wings were like transparent butterfly wings, shining with reflected color and etched through with dark leaf-like veins. Each fairy’s wings opened and closed with its tiny breaths, keeping time to the snores.

Arsac held his breath, he didn’t know how soundly the fairies slept. He looked past the pile of sleeping fairies and saw his things against the wall. His stick lay upon his pouch and crumpled cloak. He would have to walk carefully and silently around the fairies to the far end of the room in order to get what they had stolen from him.

Chapter 6 – Fairies

Arsac stepped on tiptoe into the room with the sleeping fairies. Leaving the door open behind him he kept the wall to his back and began to shuffle sideways around the edge of the room. He kept his eyes on the fairies heaped in the middle of the room and moved as silently as he could. The floor was uneven and slanted in places, which made it hard for him to place his feet without making noise.

He was halfway around the room, feeling exposed and easy to see in the bright light, when the fairies began to stir. He stopped and held his breath, willing himself to be as small and invisible as possible. With tangled limbs and sputtering breath, a few of the fairies turned over in their sleep. This movement caused one of the fairies at the edge of the pile to be pushed onto the floor with a light thud. The fairy’s eyes fluttered and a few sleep-words came out of his mouth, “Orange cat, let go. I want it. Don’t go under…” and then he fell back into a deep sleep. Arsac exhaled a slow, trembling breath and when he was sure that all was still again he continued his careful movement around the room.

After what seemed like many minutes, Arsac stood before his stick, pouch and cloak. He turned his back to the fairies and reached down to take the stick. As soon as he had touched it, the room exploded into a mix of light and the sound of fluttering wings. “What have we here?” he heard a hundred tiny voices ask. He spun around to see all of the fairies aloft, their wings beating quickly to keep them in the air. Like hummingbirds they darted from the center of the room, peered in his face and then out to the opposite edges. They flew directly at him, only to veer away at the last minute, delighting in his startled reaction. Scared and unsure of what would happen, Arsac sank to his knees and covered his head with his hands.

After a few minutes he felt tiny hands on his fingers pulling him up to stand. A few of the fairies hovered before him, the rest darted around chasing the lights above. “Are you here for your wood thing?” one of them asked in a piping little voice. “We don’t like the wood things, they are much too serious, they will never play with us”, the fairy said, “we are glad you have come to take it back.” Another fairy darted forward, her face small and round, “Will you play with us now, we love to play!” The third fairy flew up and pulled on Arsac’s nose, “Yes play with us, you will see what fun games we have,” and flew away again to join the others. The two remaining fairies urged Arsac into the center of the room where they grabbed his hands and spun him around laughing. The fairies were small but their magic made them strong, Arsac could not resist their wishes. As he was spun, more of the fairies came down to join the laughter and fun.

Arsac collapsed on the floor dizzy from spinning and the fairies laughed and clapped their little hands. They grabbed him and pulled him up again, forming a ring around him. The fairies each danced, showing off their flight, their colors, and their beautiful little clothes. They sprinkled dust that flashed and sparkled in the air. They did loops and spins, each competing for his favor. When he looked at one of the fairies others would swoop in jealous and try to steal his attention with ever more flamboyant flying and magical displays. This game continued so long that Arsac became very tired and wanted nothing more than to lay his head down and sleep. Any time his eyes began to close a fairy would fly in, pinch him awake and begin to show off again.

Eventually the fairies became tired of their antics and flew off in groups to find something new to entertain them. Some of the fairies flew straight up into the water above, lighting it up and then passing out into the night. Three fairies remained behind; they lay on their stomachs with tiny heads propped in little hands. The girl fairy with the round face asked, “How did you find us here?” Arsac was scared to tell them the truth but knew of nothing else to say, “The tree-man helped me find your house so I could retrieve my things. He said that if I woke you up you would be angry. Will you be angry with me?” One of the other fairies answered, “Do we look angry? We never get angry we only love to play and have fun!” The fairy laughed, “Life is for fun, what else in the world matters?” Arsac though about this and then asked, “If you only play and have fun, then why did you put me to sleep, take my things and leave me alone and cold?” The three fairies laughed, “Because it was fun! You should have seen your face, we had so much fun taking your things while you were asleep.” One of the fairies jumped onto his knees and continued, “You see, we are not like those serious wood people, we have fun and love every minute of our life. We have so much fun every night and we never stop moving until it is time for us to sleep and then we wake up and start all over again. If you want to love life you should be lighthearted and laugh whenever you can. I am telling you this so you understand that if you are serious all the time you will never have any fun at all!” Arsac thought about this and said, “I have seen the old people who are so serious that they no longer enjoy their lives. They are always waiting for something that never comes. If being lighthearted means enjoying life like a child and never forgetting the beauty around you, then I am happy to be lighthearted.”

After speaking with him, the fairies seemed to lose interest in Arsac. They flew in groups into the water above and then out of sight. Arsac was left alone in the room, lit by the colorful, moving lights overhead. He thought about what the tree-man had said, that he could take three things in return for what was stolen from him. He looked around and saw fairy things spread on the floor where they had been left behind. He realized he didn’t want to take anything, he was happy to have his things back and wanted to leave before anything more could happen to him. Still weary from the dancing and play, he gathered his belongings, walked through the door and back up the stairs to the world above. When he emerged, blinking in the light, he saw the mushroom girl standing in the meadow waiting for him. She looked older than before and almost pretty in a mushroomy kind of way. She smiled at him and motioned for him to come near.

Chapter 7 – The Mushroom People

“Hello Arsac,” the mushroom girl said. “It is almost time for you to get your true-name, but first I must tell you about the mushroom people.” She paused and looked at him smiling, putting him at ease after his recent adventures, “I may look young but my memories go back a long time. The mushroom people are magic, and so we share our memories with magic. We are not like men who have to share memories with words and stories.” She closed her eyes and continued, “We were the first creatures to come to this world. We came after the million year rains turned fire into rock and steam into sulfurous air. We planted our roots and drank deeply of the water that covered the land. We crushed the rock into dirt and made the earth ready for plants to grow. We breathed in the sulfur and made the air suitable for animals to breath. We covered the world as far as you could see and turned it into what it is today. Without us, no plant or animal could walk this land and live. Our great work is behind us but we still do much. We change dead wood and leaves into soil for new life. We change the old life into new and watch over the cycles of birth and death. You will see us on the logs in the forest, high in the trees and springing from the rich black dirt at your feet. You can see where magic pools on the ground like water, for that is where we grow.”

The mushroom girl paused and opened her eyes again, “Now that you know about me and my people, tell me what you have learned these past days.” Arsac thought about the way he had felt laying next to the pool. He thought about the serious tree-man and the playful fairies. He thought about Ison back home and how they would fight over things that seemed childish to him now. He thought about his parents and how they had taught him to respect the life around him and to be mindful of his actions so that they wouldn’t hurt others. He looked at the mushroom girl and said, “The tree-man doesn’t like playfulness and thinks that everyone should be serious. He helped me, but he also seemed old and sad.” Arsac was very tired but he could see how kind the mushroom girl was and he wanted to answer her questions, “The fairies were very playful but they don’t think about other people. They didn’t care how I felt when they stole my things and they didn’t care that I was tired of their play, all they cared about was their fun.” Arsac felt as if he had grown older since he had left his home and he was proud of his answer, “I think you must be both serious and playful. You must enjoy life so that you don’t grow sad and forget how wonderful everything is, but you also need to consider how your actions may harm or help the people around you.”

The mushroom girl looked very proud of Arsac, “Yes, you’ve learned a lot since I last saw you. You have learned of the need for balance. When we are young we tend to be playful and never think about more than ourselves. We may hurt those around us and never know or care about the consequences of our actions. As we grow old we may lose our joy in life, instead dwelling on the hurts we have given others and how we have been hurt in return. Your great task in life will be to learn to balance the opposing forces within you. Your great calling in life will be to teach others how to achieve balance within themselves and in their lives with each other.” She smiled again and said, “You are ready for your true-name. Your life will be about discovering and keeping balance, can you guess what your name truly is?”

Arsac thought for a moment and then he knew, “I am Amani aren’t I? It is the true-word for balance.” The mushroom girl nodded her head, “Travel well Amani, until we meet again,” she turned and walked out of the meadow. Arsac who was now Amani tightened his cloak around himself, shifted his pouch and headed toward home.

That is the story of how Amani came to know who he was and what he was meant for in this world.