Tales of samsara: The well

1

It didn’t sound good. Yesterday, Darius managed to get a shallow bucket of water after repeated efforts. He lowered the rope until the bucket started to clunk against the bottom. He let go, and it would fall over. That allowed him to get a small cup’s worth of water with each attempt. Today, he hadn’t heard any splashing. The echoes from the well sounded more like a thud, like wood on dirt. 

Squealing all the way, he turned the handle, spooling up the rope. The bucket emerged into the light. It was completely dry. Not even the bottom was damp. Darius grabbed the bucket and tossed it. It clacked against another empty one. 

“Damn it.”

Darius looked out at his land. The ground was a pale brown. A draft of wind kicked up the arid soil in a small whirlwind. His wife Lillian was looking out through the kitchen window. She seemed to be working at the sink, undoubtedly, dry scrubbing plates.

He turned his head and spotted the boys out on the other side of the house, sun beaming into view. They were herding some sheep into the pens. His oldest already knew, and he expected he had told the younger ones. They were in trouble. Mom and Dad didn’t know what to do. 

It was true, he was out of ideas. The animals were going to die of thirst in a matter of days. The situation was dire. Things weren’t much better for the nearest farms. Their water was on short supply lately. But something had taken his land faster. Taking from them might jeopardize their families. 

Yesterday, he got some water. They had to carry it back and forth, a single bucket at a time for each animal and human on the land. He could have sworn the water was vanishing from the bucket on the walk from the well. 

“I can’t go back. There’s got to be a fix for this.” Darius said to the wind. 

He decided he had wasted enough time putting it off. He let out a sigh of defeat. Darius walked back to the house, his head hung low. He walked in the front door and went straight to the bedroom cabinet. He pulled out a roll of paper and the ink scribe. He went to writing the first poster. 

______

Darius looked at the crossroads before him. This was the furthest crossroad he could travel to. It had been a long time since he went this far out. He had really spent most of his recent days within the confines of his farm and the first trade post. This was by no means a major intersection. But it was as close as he was getting to the major travel road. 

Nailed to the splintered wooden board was an arrangement of flyers. Some of them had faded from years of sun exposure and rain. He had not brought enough nails, so he grabbed one from the almost nonexistent shred of paper it once held.  The remaining scrap fell into the ground. 

Darius found a hole in the split wood, centered on the board. He unrolled his paper and took another look at it. 

HELP Needed, URGENT. 

Anyone skilled in curses, please respond. Payment of 25 silver and food provisions available. The well on our land has mysteriously gone dry. The land has long been a benefit to mountain water and good prosperity. We have tried everything we know to do, and repeated deepening has not worked. Our farm is the last on the southern road. From this sign post. 

Everything is dying. Soon our livestock will die. Something terrible has taken our land. We have even tried collecting rainwater. The water refuses to stay in our barrels.

Speak with Darius and Martha on the farm.

Using his thumb, Darius pushed the nail into the hole and hung the flyer. He had no idea if anybody would come. The rotten and splintered old board made him anxious. Moss filled the deepest cracks. Even this signpost could grow something. It made his stomach turn. 

Not wanting to admit it, he knew how this would end. Water had driven people to get violent, even kill each other. Families might show up in major cities or larger settlements. Degraded to being beggars. A farm needed too much. It wasn’t as simple as asking for some extra spices. 

______

2

Thick clouds gathered overhead. Raindrops were trickling in, dotting the road with dark spots. A man riding horseback pulled up his hood. The side saddle clanked with metal. A sword was strapped to his hip. The horse’s saddle was affixed with various other glimmering adornments and equipment. 

The sun had been blocked out by the heavy cloud cover. When it finally fell below the horizon, darkness quickly swept in. The hooded man pulled down a metal switch on the side of his lantern. It released a spring-loaded snap of sparks, and the lantern pushed back the shadows. 

He touched his hand to his face. A faint dab of blood, but not bad. The day was shorter than he had hoped.  Then just ahead, emerging from the night, was a signpost. Also, a place of gathering at times. Crossroad boards had become grounding in a way. Tahrin found it to be like a lighthouse on a long journey. They always guided him where he needed to be somehow. When traveling alone, he felt more and more detached. But every time he spotted a board, it meant people. He could take shelter. Perhaps he might even find good company. 

Rain dripped off the sagging mossy overhang. Tahrin raised his lantern. The notice board lit up. One stood out from the rest. It was a fresh piece of paper. It still had the curve from being rolled up. Tahrin grabbed the paper and pulled it from the bent nail. 

People were always in need these days. There wasn’t a crossroads that didn’t call for aid. One man’s misfortune became his inner peace. He folded up the paper and stuffed it in his pocket.

______

3

Darius dragged a barrel out of the shed. Passing by the well, he spat in it, cursing to himself. The collection of spit on the edge of the well disappeared. He came to a stop by the house. He shoved the barrel under the corner of the house roof. 

Darius held out his hand. Droplets pattered his palm. A small pool formed in the crevices. Watching for a moment, he could swear it was shrinking in his own hand. It was slow enough to be nearly imperceptible. It could be his unrested eyes playing tricks on him. But he thought not. 

He turned and wiped the rain from his brow. A man stood by the road at the edge of his property. His heart jolted to a higher pace. The figure stood in the evening rain, lit only by his lantern. It created a sort of halo effect with the cloud of droplets. There was a glint of something else. After a longer look, he could tell it was a sword. 

He had only put the posters up today. How could it be about that? Darius had lived on this farm for a good 15 years. Farms had a growing need to call for aid. The land of Samsara was growing darker these days. Nobody ever responded this fast. A shiver of dread rippled through him. His body told him to run. He had been found and somebody had finally come to enact justice.

He continued to just stand in the rain by the road. Darius considered packing everything up right then. Damn the buckets and the water. They could take the back road up to the second inn. From there, they could continue north along the coastal mountains until they reached the Elvin Forest. Perhaps the Elves would not care about the past. They often thought of the future, or so he had heard.  

______

4

Tahrin was thinking he had made a mistake. I could be at the inn right now, throwing back a couple of pints. If this asshole is too stupid to dig a deeper hole…

He shrugged and made his way toward the well. He left his horse, knowing it would be fine. His patience was on short supply, so he figured he should just check the hole himself. How many times do you have to ask a villager to describe the haunting, and it turns out to be weather? The guild had an answer to that actually. The answer was always seven. 

The farmer began quickly walking over towards him. Subtly, Tahrin picked up the pace. He just wanted to give the thing a look over. Sometimes he would respond to a poster, and the fool didn’t know the difference between inert Klesh and active. These things are everywhere. You think at some point you would want to know what they are. 

He arrived at the well first. He leaned over and looked down at the black void. In the corner of his eye, he noticed the farmer slowing his pace. Tahrin raised his lantern over the well. He scrunched his face looking down. It didn’t take long. He quickly saw that this was not normal. It’s cursed alright. 

The farmer came to his side, the sound of light splashing with each step. Tahrin looked over his shoulder at the farmer. Before the man could speak, he confirmed it. 

“Your well has a problem.”

“You… I didn’t expect anyone for a week. That is, if anybody showed up at all. Are you… with the Paladin guild?”

Tahrin nodded in response. He turned back to the well and leaned in again. The farmer hesitated, but followed his lead. 

“See that.” Tahrin said. 

“The same well that stays dry even in the rain, yeah, I see it. I’ve tried everything and…”

“I mean the shadow. This particular lantern would show the bottom of your well.” Tahrin tapped the side of the metal housing. It emitted a blue glow against the rock walls.  “I can only see about arm’s length down on the stone walls. What about you?”

The farmer looked surprised. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s fine. We can’t do much now. I can head back to the inn a ways up the road and return in the morning.”

The farmer noticed a red droplet emerging on the visitor’s face. It trailed down to the side of his mouth. “Sir, forgive me, but you’re bleeding.”  The wound looked strange somehow, unlike anything Darius had seen. 

Tahrin touched his face and looked at the blood swirling in his hand. Looking annoyed, he started reaching into the bag of his horse. The farmer hadn’t noticed till then that there was a large steed, or that it came down to the well. Tahrin pulled out a corked bottle and swiftly uncorked it. Tilting it side and leaning his head back, tapping the glass. A gel mixed with glimmering dust slowly poured out. Tahrin re-corked the bottle and rubbed in the substance. The wound ceased bleeding. Darius thought he saw the open wound stitching itself together again. Whatever this mixture was, it seemed to fight back against an unnatural wound. 

It seemed to be as Darius had imagined. The paladin’s job was never done. He decided not to ask. He didn’t seem like the talkative type. Neither was he, for that matter. He figured the wound must have come from something terrible.

______

5

The following morning, Tahrin paid his tab. He grabbed his bag and headed outside. Pushing open the creaking inn door, the morning sun seared his eyes. The road to the farm was still wet. Some paladins thought it wasn’t necessary. Those didn’t seem to last long, he was noticing. Tahrin closed his eyes, taking in the warmth of the sun. He said his mantra and cleared all thought.

  A meditation always sets the mind right. Whether a hard mystery or a gruesome fight awaits, all paladins should continue this practice. The lesson was repeated by all the retired paladins, the living ones. He headed over to the stable next door.

It was as the poster claimed. Just at the edge of the farmer’s land, it was dry. The neighboring farms were still damp from the night before. Primarily around the well, the farmer’s soil truly had somehow gone dry. He looked over, and the man was standing beside his wife, talking. He figured he had already checked the well. 

Tahrin looked around and noticed that not all of the man’s land had dried yet. Further from the well, on the opposite side of the house, it might even be damp. But regardless, none of the farms on the road to Darius were having this issue. This was the last one on the road on a back road. He sure picked the most isolated land he could find. Hidden in plain sight.  

It was downhill from the land, which normally meant his farm would get groundwater runoff, but it remained dry. He tightened the cinch on his bag and started towards the house. 

As he moved closer, Tahrin glanced up again. They were not staring at him, as he anticipated. The family bowed their heads, speaking closely. Even the children seemed to be aware of the gravity of the situation. This gave him pause. Tahrin was struck by the closeness. An odd spasm swelled up in his chest. His throat twisted into a vague lump. It made him long for something he never had. And he shut that down, focusing on the mission. 

As he approached, the hum of a low murmur emerged. Words formed from the cluttering of vocals. In the cycle of death, new life is born. There is no end or beginning. May we find harmony in the great resonance…

Allowing the family to complete the prayer, Tahrin waited. The farmer concluded by giving each of his boys a firm squeeze on the shoulder and a nudge to head off to their chores. And so they did. Without another word, they walked off towards the ranch animals. Tahrin noticed how filthy their clothes and faces were. They hadn’t been able to wash. Darius looked tired. He probably hadn’t been sleeping. The rain may have stayed off their pending death, but it was knocking at the door.

Keeping his words to a minimum, Tahrin didn’t want to waste much time. He let them know he was getting to work and would let them know what he found. There was a hill off in the distance. It was beyond the farm, in the direction of the mountains. The horse could rest at the farm for now. It covered incredible distance at the end of his last quest. Talking wasn’t a part of their relationship, but he could see his steed was exhausted. 

Tahrin headed across the farm towards the opposite side. He reached into his bag and pulled out the leather book inside. It was wrapped by a thin strap of cloth. From the fabric, a metal scribe fell into his palm. He flipped open the book to a marked page. With the scribe, he scratched the page, roughly noting what he was observing. There’s something off about the air, he noted. He wasn’t sure how to articulate it.

Turning the page, he continued. How are you supposed to be okay with watching so many lives being destroyed? My purpose is to protect and help people. But we can’t save everyone. They told us that in training. The timeframe on a well issue is a few days. This is the last day to make a difference.

______

6

Tahrin came up to the top of the hill. It was a lot higher than he thought from the distance. The air was, without a doubt, not the same on the farm. The farmer Darius hadn’t noticed this feature. There was no mention of it in the flyer, nor did he bring it up when he arrived. Had Darius really not noticed? He had to leave his land to hang the flyer at the crossroads. Perhaps he had just been so frustrated. Or maybe years of farming had eroded his sense of smell. 

Tahrin wiped his forearm against his brow, soaking in the sweat. He proceeded to roll up his sleeves. The sky was a rich and boundless blue, incredible and vast. The farmhouse wasn’t the oldest he had seen. The roof was weathered, but recently patched. A barn sat beside a large fenced-off area with some livestock slowly chewing dry patches of grass. The field itself was turning a sickly yellow-green color. The neighboring farms all had rich green fields. If this continued, the animals would quickly become sick. He had seen the aftermath of similar situations before. 

The world was ever shrouded by some manner of horrors. Tahrin took up service in the Paladin guild to combat those forces. Somebody had to answer the call, in order to push back the clinging shadows. So went one of the many guild mottos. They attempted to catalogue and study everything back at the city. And yet, time and time again, it’s something new. 

Tahrin continued writing his thoughts. He was certain that this was another manifestation of the rising dark tide. The land was supposed to be rich, and nourishing. He studied the maps and this area had historically been decadent farming. Regular people, most of them lived simple lives. These simple people were the most important. Yet each year, the different paladin branches reported higher numbers across each region. Dead cattle, skin shriveling over the bones.Maybe they picked up an extra disease while desperately searching for any brackish water to drink. Crop yields are lowering. Many such farms have remained barren for decades. Ongoing restoration studies are happening, to no avail. 

Tahrin wiped his brow of sweat again. Nobody ever talked about what happened to the farmers afterwards. What would they do? Where do they go with no money? It’s such a simple thing. A dry well. People, bound to the spirit of the land. 

As his eyes drifted back to the farm, he looked to the well. His instinct of getting a distant view paid off. He was just far enough that his eyes took it in. There was a giant shadow cast around the well, consuming nearly the entire farm property. Checking again, Tahrin looked up. Covering the sun with his thumb, he looked around to be sure. No clouds in sight.

The well wasn’t covered by a standard shadow. It was subtle. Tahrin thought it was like a transparent veil. It reminded him of the shadow cast by panes of glass. It’s warbled slightly, and just a little dimmer than normal. Some areas even appear brighter, catching more light. There was no mysterious floating pane of glass, but something seemed to be obstructing the sun’s rays for sure. 

Tahrin closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through the nose. Hold, release through the lips. A few more times and the rush filled his mind. Opening his eyes, he pushed aside the inner monologue. Remove your assumptions. Tahrin did not focus his vision on any one thing. Slowly he became aware of his heart, the pulse reaching his fingertips, the air flowing against his skin.

Tahrin’s eyes relaxed. His inner thoughts faded. Perhaps it was the exact focus, and his eyes landed in an extremely narrow window of visibility. Sometimes these old techniques just work, and you never find out why. A large starfish shape appeared over the farm. It was centered exactly over the well. There were 7 massive legs extending out from the center mass. One trailed behind the house, still visible well above the roof. It’s a giant!

Tahrin’s eye twitched, an attempt to focus, to see, or maybe just a random spasm. The starfish was gone. He blinked, and the shadow was gone as well. He hadn’t been able to make out. It had almost come into focus before he lost it. 

“Damn it.” He growled. 

Looking back at the well, he felt his heart racing. Tahrin was profoundly irritated that he had let his focus slip. He also knew he wasn’t going to get another chance at that. It was a blessing it actually worked. It was studied deeply by the scholars, but the basic answer was, we have no idea. Sometimes, it just works.

“Shit.” He said in a whisper. 

A giant starfish. Fuck. Have I read anything about a giant invisible starfish? I don’t think so. Klesh, most certainly. This one is probably going to be logged under unknown, giant, seems benevolent but extremely dangerous. Further research needed. Send all reports to yada yada…

He needed more information from Darius. At least now he knew what questions to ask. Maybe he could make sense of it. But Tahrin knew this was really bad. The guild had no established solution. Unknown was the worst thing you could encounter. 

Did I really see that?

Quickly, like a frightened jolt, he shut that down. Trust what you saw. We might be able to come up with something. But I haven’t read a single report of anybody seeing this. Maybe they were different types. They could look different but were actually the same family of creatures. Did I just get lucky? Maybe if you happen to stand in just the right spot, it’s like looking through a keyhole. But even still… We don’t have a ready plan. I might have just spotted something important, but this family can’t stay here.

Tahrin winced his eyes, once again shutting away the thought. He looked again, hoping to catch another peak. But nothing revealed itself. As he came closer, the shadow seemed to disappear entirely. 

______

7

“He seems, I don’t know, gruff? I haven’t met any of them before. Are they all like that? I guess I imagined he would talk to us more.” Martha said. 

“Some of them are. They always seem to be going to or coming from something terrible.”

“Didn’t you work with them years ago?”

“Not really with them. Around them. And I guess the more I think about it, most of them are like that. At least somewhat. They’re very busy.”

Martha leaned against the corner of the house. The overhang covered her in shade. Her husband stubbornly continued to stand in the hot sun. He crossed his arms, turned towards the hill with a small figure walking towards them. 

“What happened to the clouds anyway? There are more storms each year, and yet the farm is still dying.” Martha sighed.

Darius mumbled to himself, considering this. “That too.”

“What could he do? Unless the guild can wagon in some special water that won’t just disappear. Do they have that?”

“Don’t think so.”

Martha took a deep breath, closing her eyes and crossing her arms. She began twisting her hair into a nervous braid. Martha wouldn’t let her children turn to begging. They were good boys. 

“Maybe we can offer help on another farm.”

“What farm can afford us?”

“I don’t know. But what else is there?”

A salty droplet of sweat rolled down Darius’s temple. It redirected into the crow’s feet at the edge of his sight. The salt burned, and he winced. He pulled the shoulder of his shirt and wiped it. 

Darius turned towards the well, which got the sun out of his sight. Shuttering his eye open, something new registered in his vision. That eye, and only that eye, then witnessed a massive creature. He was standing just upon it, and the entire mass covered the land. His other eye saw nothing. But the burning eye was witness to a mass of writhing flesh. It twisted into bulging lumps and undulating flesh. The lively mass ran like rivers in all directions. The combination of texture, pigment, and fleshy material conjoined into spiraling repeating fractals. At the same time, each nodule of flesh breathed in unison, lightly expanding and contracting as one. 

Quickly blinking, the eye cleared the tear, and it was gone. Darius recoiled back and slammed his head into the front door of his home. It quickly swung open and dumped him on the wooden planks. Martha jumped in surprise. She had been aimlessly staring at the Paladin walking across their land. She had not seen, but heard the crash. 

“Darius!”

Martha darted inside and found her husband motionless. He was taking fast, shallow breaths like a trapped rabbit. His eyes didn’t seem to register the questions from his wife. They no longer looked at her, or anything. 

______

Tahrin was close enough that he saw the farmer crashing through the wooden door. He skipped a step and moved to a quick jog. He tucked his elbow, trying to hold down the bouncing satchel slung under his arm. His jog turned into a sprint.

Dropping his bag at the door, he ran inside. The farmer was still frozen solid. His eyes locked in a faraway stare through the ceiling. His skin had gone pale. Tahrin got to his knees and grabbed the farmer’s hand. It was cold and rigid. His fingers stuck into the shape of frozen spider legs. Tahrin placed his hand on the farmer’s neck, it was thumping rapidly, but cold. He then heard a whisper. It was coming from the farmer’s lips. Not a whisper, labored breathing.

Tahrin rested Darius’s hand back down. He quickly reached into a side pocket. He pulled out a rapping and quickly unrolled it. It looked like a stick of charcoal but with a faint shimmering. The edges distorted and moved. Martha watched helplessly, scared she was going to lose her husband. 

The Paladin quickly etched a pattern in the back of his own hands. After a moment, the rune started smoking, seeming to burn flesh. He placed a hand on each side of the mans neck. The smoke funneled towards the farmers nostrils. Suddenly the smoke raced inward. The Farmer arched his back, lifting his chest in the air. He took a deep wheezing breath through the mouth. 

_______

Tahrin stood at the edge of the farmland, horse reins loosely wrapped around his palm. 

“Woah, woah.” He said. 

The horse calmly stopped and turned. The horse circled around to face the family with him, as if aware of the situation. There were 5 children in total. This was the first Tahrin had seen them all at once. Perhaps there were still more that didn’t want to come out. Four boys stood in front of their father with messy, dirty hair and torn clothes. The daughter sat by her mom, too young to understand but old enough to attempt walking. Darius looked better than before, but still shaken. 

“So that’s it. You can’t help us? Are you sure there isn’t somebody else who can take a look?” Martha said.

“No, there’s not. Word will make its way to the capital. I’ll ensure the higher-ups hear exactly what happened here. But I’m telling you, it’s time to leave. This land is lost.”

“Nothing in the basement wing on it?” Darius said in a shaky voice. 

Martha looked angry. But Tahrin couldn’t tell if it was anger directed at his perceived incompetence or the situation. He desperately hoped they could see it how it was. 

Darius told him what he saw. He had already wanted to take it back, like he hadn’t actually seen anything. The more he described it, the less sure he was. Tahrin assured him.

“Darius. Trust what you saw. Some things in this world don’t want to be found. They find ways to push back on the minds that might discover them. I saw it too.”
“Is it dangerous?” Martha said. 

“It could be. Honestly, the records are vast, you never know. But I’ve never read about anything like this. This land is lost. You should leave this place and find somewhere new.”

Darius let out a laugh. It was more of a defeated gasp than a laugh. Tahrin knew what he was feeling. Assuming my kids aren’t dead when we arrive, he thought. Country travel was hard, more so with children. It didn’t sound like he had strong ties in the city. The options might be running thin.

“If the wolves don’t get us, I’ve heard they grow in number each year. So I get to watch my boys turn to beggars, getting pushed aside.”

There was something else. It scratched at Tahrin’s thoughts like a hungry cat. That’s why you came here. He must have been a part of the guild in the past. Did he say the basement wing? The only way a farmer would know about that is a need to know. Could this be a random shot in the dark? He didn’t think so. Nobody outside the paladin order was to have business down there.

A memory flashed back to Tahrin. Piecing the information together in his mind, another lesson had come back to him. They say that when a paladin can’t maintain his duties, they hang up the armor and move to a farm, somewhere far away. Some retire honorably. The disgraced paladin never keeps his equipment, as it’s forcibly returned. Tahrin could have asked. He didn’t see anything while he was in the house. But how could that help this situation? This man was either disgraced or retired. He’s not old enough to be retired yet. 

With one more glance at the children, Tahrin turned away and placed his foot in the stirrup. Grabbing the saddle horn, he stepped up. He battled the urge in him to say one last thing. A deep inhale, and Tahrin whipped the reins. The horse stepped forward into a light gallop up the road. It was time for him to go home.

End

Future Articles coming

Here on my website, I will post all my creative works of fiction. I may be inclined to write articles of non fiction from time to time. I don’t intend to just churn out meaningless articles to fill out and waste peoples time. If I have something I want to say, or just get out, I will.