think you can. The things that you will see on this journey are unlike anything you have ever been exposed to. When the time comes, you will know what to do."
Argyle looked into his eyes with wonder. Coming in he had felt ready, capable, secure in his heart. Now he wasn't as sure. He felt shaken inside. He would surely not share these feelings with the Master. Not now, not today, not ever. He buried the thoughts, and looked down at the candlelight.
He could hear voices approaching the church outside. The Master rose to his feet, and turned towards the door. Argyle stood up beside him with the candle in his hands. The doors opened, and a small procession began coming into the church. Friends, family, schoolmates, fellow warriors, and younger pups. Everyone was there to see him off, and to pray for protection on his journey. His mother came to the front row and sat. His father was at her side. Jordan sat with his family and many others. The crowd watched reverently.
The Master spoke, "Today, we have reached a special time in our history and tradition. The time when our Chosen One begins his journey to the Tower of Darbone for the well-being of all that is good in the world. This tradition has been repeated over many millennia, and while we are hopeful in his and the success of all of the Chosen Ones, we gather here to ask the Universe for special protection and assistance where needed for the task at hand. The power must always remain balanced. If any of the chosen few should fail, then the balance would be severely affected. For it is the desire of good to keep the balance even, while the evil ones would rather have no good at all. This is not our destiny, and so today, our Chosen One, Argyle, begins his quest with God in his heart, and many souls surrounding him, and his family and friends supporting him here today. He is ready. He is prepared. And he is the Chosen One. Please come greet him with your hearts and wishes as the bells sound for the last time until his return.”
His family sat still as people came up from the back of the church to speak to him. Hand-shakes and pats on his shoulders.
"Good luck, son," said one of the old ones.
"Thank you, sir," Argyle replied. For a brief moment, in Argyle's mind, it was like being at his own funeral. But he knew that wasn't the case. It was just strange, and different. This ceremony came once every thousand years. It was surely different. Finally, Jordan made his way up through the procession.
"I am proud to call you my friend, Argyle. We never dreamed this would happen, but I cannot think of a better person for the job." Jordan heard his own words and seemed a bit startled. "I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect to your brother."
Argyle stopped him. "Don't worry, your heart is pure with me. I knew what you meant."
Jordan gave Argyle a strong embrace. "Take care of yourself and don't make me come get you! I'll do it!" he joked.
Argyle's mother was next. She looked at him like never before. Her eyes filled with pride, and tears. “I have always known you were special, and now you show me why. The burden you carry is far greater than a mother would ever put on her own child, but you are not a child any longer, Argyle. You are an adult, and one with many more gifts than anyone could see. The Universe will protect you, but you have to listen to its messages. Don't let things cloud your ability to hear the voices that protect you." She gave him a warm hug, and a kiss on his cheek, and turned away. Tears filled her eyes, but she could not let him see.
His father was last in line and grabbed him with great strength and pride. Argyle had never felt this from his father before, but now everything was different between them. Argyle was filled with confidence from his father's support, and the deep look into his soul told of his love for him.
"Never travel at night," he said, "only during the day. And early. Take care of your provisions so that you do not run out, and most of all protect the stones. They will do the same for you when the time comes. We will be here when you return. Be well, my son." He turned and joined Argyle's mother.
The Master stood behind the altar with the great book open, and he began reading in the ancient tongue. Argyle understood everything that he was saying, but only because of his studies. The Master's eyes had stopped glowing blue, and Argyle noticed that the candle he held had nearly gone out. The Master closed the book and came around the altar, taking Argyle by the paw and leading him to the door. The Master opened the door allowing the rays of light to cut into the darkness of the church. Argyle could hardly see outside. The Master stopped short of the entrance and embraced Argyle. "The Universe is with you always. Everything you need has been provided for. All you have to do is remain pure of heart, and simply ask for it. Fair thee well Argyle, Son of Furgal, Brother of Kartan."
The bells began ringing again as Argyle stepped out of the church alone. The congregation remained inside according to tradition, and just like that, his journey had begun. His provisions were all there, along with the scrolls and his sword. Jordan had prepared everything. He gathered his things and he began walking silently down the path, listening to the bells as he walked towards the long bridge. The dolphins were many along the shore that day, as if they knew he would be passing by. The surf was crashing down. He knew he would have many challenges, but he also knew that he was simply an instrument of a larger power. If he were doing this just for himself, it would be an impossible journey, but this was not the case. He was a vessel, as the Master had stated, and he simply needed to depend upon the Universe to guide him every step of the way. What lay ahead he did not know, but it was his destiny to find out.
He stopped at the beginning of the long bridge and looked back at his village. The bells continued sounding. He looked and pondered many things. It was time. He turned and began walking onto the bridge. As he walked, he could hear the bells' sound getting fainter and fainter until they were no more. A gentle fog rolled across the bridge as he crossed. By mid-morning, he was in the middle of the bridge, and there was no sound but the ocean beneath, and the pelicans skimming the water in search of food. It was calm and peaceful. For now.
2 - The Wise One
Argyle had walked all day. Through the grasslands that border his island home, and into the tall pine woods and further beyond, past the foothills of the low mountains. The morning was uneventful for the most part. He had his small meal, and checked over his supplies, tools, and weapons. There was no misunderstanding for what this journey was about. He was focused on his task to reach the Tower of Darbone and restore good for his people, and for all of the good people of the world. He thought of his parents, and his brother, the first chosen one. That was in the past, and what mattered now was to honor his family, and his people by getting to the tower as soon as he could.
He quickly packed everything up, and set off again. It would be getting dark soon, and he needed to get beyond the foothills to remain on schedule. The terrain was rough going. The gentle hills had turned gradually into hard red clay valleys with gravel and scrub pines. The climbing and hiking was slow, and Argyle wasn’t as sure footed as he thought. The gravel and steep slopes made the climbing treacherous and time and time again, Argyle lost his footing and hand holds. Just as he began to get frustrated, he noticed a path. An old worn, almost trench like, path of steps leading upwards and carefully carved into the clay hillside. A sense of relief came over him, as he quickly began amending the clay steps of the path. The path winded it’s way through the clay valley along the hill side, slowly gaining altitude. The scrub pines were fewer and fewer as he rose up out of the valley. Once he was at the top, he could finally see what was ahead. A desert. Rolling hills of sand like the swells of a dry lake. Massive. Argyle stopped for a moment to take in the view, but also noticing the heat coming up from the sand. He would have to be cautious here, as dogs do not sweat, and therefore have no physical way of cooling themselves down, shy taking frequent drinks of water. Argyle did not know if any water existed here, or exactly when he would have the chance to refill his supply.
He descended the path as it lead down to the sandy desert floor. The steps vanished into the sands and grasses growing at the base of the hill. He decided to skirt the edge of the hillside for a while, without venturing straight away into the desert. In fact, if he could find a suitable spot, it would be wise for him to stop for a while, and wait until the sunset, when desert traveling would be safer. He stopped under a small scrub pine for shade. The Spring air was still cool in the shade, and it was a good place for Argyle to have a bite to eat and