The story below may contain violence and may not be appropriate for young readers.
IMAGINATION'S PLACE
FICTION
THE ANCIENT ONE
The Seedling
By; Speaker Gerald A. Polley


As the first hour of the New Year was ringing in, The Ancient One was stirred by the sound of a familiar bell. He rose from that form which is his home for the present time, and soared back to The Spirit World, there to settle outside The Hall of the Great World Council, where sit those who are his authority. The guards came smartly to attention as he approached, and the great doors were opened, so he might pass. The Great Hall was filled with many beings from ordinary humans, to Havens and Hashons, and some visitors also, from other worlds. Along one wall sat eleven figures; The High Council and The World Speaker. The Ancient One approached, taking a position before The World Speaker and bowing politely. "Those who I serve have summoned me," he stated. "In what way, tell me, have I offended Them?"
"It is not a matter of offense," said The World Speaker, "for we know the loyalty of Our Servant's heart, and that he would do nothing outside the Law which we all cherish. There is merely a concern and a bewilderment. Here are our allies, Abraham and Moses, representing their Children; Mohammed, representing his people, Buddah, Krishna representing their followers. The Chief Of Chiefs, Mississippi, and The Chiefs of all the nations. They have come to us with a strange grievance saying that they offered unto you great power in addition to that that you already possessed, and asked that you be the seed-bearer in their cause. And to their astonishment, you refuse them. Oh, Lord Of Light, one who is so precious to us, why do you not do service to our allies? Why do you refuse that Gift they would give?"
Before The Ancient One could answer, a figure stepped from the shadows of the Hall. "Did you not agree," he said, "you would speak for us, also? Why did you not add us to the list of those that would do The Lord Of Light honor?"
The World Speaker bowed his head. "my pardon, he said, "I meant to plead your case separately, but now that you have spoken he is also here who was called Fuehrer to plead for his children who suffer in The Darkness and who will know pain when comes the Hour of their death. He, too, has offered you power, but he, too, have you refused. Explain to us, our true and faithful servant, your reasons for such."
The Ancient One looked about him. He walked over to Abraham and Moses and bowed politely.
"These," he said, "have offered me a judgeship over their people. They desire that I turn them from their evil, that I make their land a just and holy place. That I remove from their capitol all foreign churches, all foreign faiths, and rebuild the temple of Their Fathers. But who am I to do such things? I am not of their flesh, I am not of their blood. The judges placed over their people should be one of their own, not an outsider.
It is not that I consider what they desire evil, it is reasonable and good, and they would be fair to all that dwell in their land, making fair and generous restitution to any that would have to be moved, and to make Bethlehem the center of the Christian faith is more than reasonable. Is it not better to worship a Lord where he was born, rather than where he died?
No, I mean no offense. All that they ask is good, but it is not my place, and it is the same with Mohammed. He would make me," The Ancient One said, as he stepped to the side of The Great Speaker, "his judge. The swift sword of his vengeance. But who am I that I should be such? Your thunder, Great Teacher, your lightning should come from among your own people. It should not be put in the hands of one outside your faith. Find one of your own Children, one who will take your banner. Let him go forth to the world and someday I will stand with him. But it is not my place. And Mississippi," The Ancient One continued, "Chief of The First People, The True Owners of the American Land, he would have me be Medicine Chief for all the nations, but again this is not my place. I am not of their blood. Truly all know the promises I have made. That I will restore to the land the names of Their Fathers and I will help the nations rise again. But these things that they ask are for one of their own blood, and that, I am not."
One of the Chiefs stepped forward. "Never," he said, "have I heard a Lord Of Light lie before this hour, but this day I have heard this one speak an untruth. For I know that the blood of The Indian Peoples has flowed through his veins. The Ojibwa knew him, and so did the Woodn Head and The Azcotin. And when he was not of our flesh he was known by The Arapaho, The Commanche, the Cheyenne and The Apache. He was welcomed in many forms to many council fires. Now he says he is not of our blood? Who here, then, can say he has done as much as Swift Deer, Walking Buffalo, Tunka Lin, Lame Wolf or Thunder Leg? Do The Indian Peoples not speak his legends? Are there still not some that pray he will keep his promise and return?"
The Chief fell silent and backed away, and all eyes fell again on The Ancient One.
"The words of Red Jacket honor me," The Ancient One said, "but he forgets that when I speak of not being of their blood I mean that I am not from this world. I am foreign to it. What you say is true. And I have also served Mohammed and Krishna and Buddah and even The Children of Abraham. But for me these were just excursions, little sidetrips that I went upon while tending my true Cause.
I am a Child of These Lords. Those visits I made to your peoples to reach and guide them was all part of our own purpose. You give me credit when it is not due, when I was merely doing that which was to my own and my people's benefit."
Another Chief stepped forward, "But while serving your own people," he said, "you serve ALL people. For your cause is the freedom of ALL men, and in that battle we ALL share. Does it do harm that we wish you to share your wisdom with our kin? To help them return to The Glory that is rightfully theirs? What you have to give is mighty; the greatest of all medicine. Why would you keep it from our people?"
"Never," said The Ancient One, "did I say that I would keep The Glory Of The Lords from your people! It is for all men everywhere, just as it was GIVEN to all men. It will be there, for them to hear. Understanding will be given them, that they may know, but acceptance must come from the heart to the soul. Truth will be there for them to have. But they must choose to possess it. These contracts that you offered me were well intended, but they should not be for me."
The Ancient One turned and stepped towards the one who stood in the shadows. "This one," he said "I would help if I could. I understand his pain. I understand his need, but I cannot be his new Fuehrer. I cannot undo what he did. It is for another to hear his message, not for me. When I began this mission I was told I would have a simple task...write a Book. Yet again and again more has been added to that task...first a National Speaker, now I am to run the whole Church!
This was supposed to be the position of my brother, he who I faithfully serve. Already too much has been put on me, and I can bear no more. I am not a young Spirit. My power is not limitless. What you ask is too much!
"It is within your power," said The First Speaker, "to be their Seed Bearer. Will you at least do that?"
The Ancient One threw his hands into the air and brought them down to his side with a hard slap. Folding his wings tightly to his body, he stood for a moment, in silence. Then, a golden light entered the room and all of the Council swiftly rose, bowing politely. The Ancient One turned, facing the golden-skinned winged man who approached.
"What do you do now, North?" the man asked. Bowing, The Ancient One answered,
"Oh, Lord of Morning, brother of my heart, him who I respect above all others, it is not what I do that is the problem. It is what I will NOT do!"
The Lord Of Morning smiled. "For one-hundred-thousand years," he said, "it has always been what you WILL NOT DO! Be considerate, my brother. If you will not take that which is offered you, at least plant the seeds that they wish you to distribute, for you will be given the power to do that."
"And may I ask, Lord Of Morning," The Ancient One said, "why you do not do this task? And why it is you have not take the place that was meant for you? Why instead, have I been given it?"
"Perhaps," The Lord Of Morning answered, "it is because the time has come for you to be first, not second, for you to have that place of authority that is long overdue. Now, let us not argue any more. Our friends would like to depart to their own celebrations of The New Year. Go forth, my brother, and plant the seeds you will be given!"
The Ancient One smiled. "Why do I resist?" he asked, "Why do I oppose? I know sooner or later I will give in. I always do!"
"The love in your soul is so great," said The Lord of Morning, "that you can do little else."
The Ancient One bowed to The First Speaker. "For each," he said, "that is here I will deliver the seed. Let them depart."
Those gathered in the Great Hall turned and departed. Where each of them had stood, a shimmering mass of little twinkling lights remained. The Ancient One went to each mass and reaching out, drew it into himself. When he got to the one standing in the shadows, he still waited.
"Why have you not left your seeds?" The Ancient One asked.
"You know, surely," the man said, "many of them could not survive if they entered this much light. You must come to The Darkness. They will gather there."
The Ancient One nodded, and followed his guide to the lonely edge of The Spirit World. Here the final cloud of lights gathered. "I must make haste!" The Ancient One told his guide. He passed through the barrier seperating The Spirit World from the material world and dropped quickly towards the southwest of the land where he lived. His burden was great, and he must be rid of some of it quickly.
He landed in a ravine. A short distance away sat a pickup truck and a fancy, expensive car. Four men lounged in the car, drinking and laughing. In the gully lay six bodies with dark skin; four males and two females. The Ancient One approached the first. It had been shot through the heart. A pale blue beam emerged from The Ancient One's hand. The wounded flesh and bone pulled itself back together. The wounds sealed themselves, blood again began to pump through the body. The pale blue beam covered it entirely. It began to shiver. Its eyes and mouth opened and it began to breathe. The beam went out and The Ancient One went to the next body. The process was repeated until finally all six forms sat, adjusting. The first one rose.
"Easy!" said The Ancient One. "You will be a little weak. I could not replace all the fluid you have lost. It will take awhile for your body to compensate."
The man nodded. "I am Natchez," he said, "Chief of The Apache. this is Cochise, Shuna and Geronimo. This is my woman Shome and Geronimo's woman Sharine. These bodies you have given us are good, though the color of the skin could have been lighter; they will do."
"The four who killed these people are up above," said The Ancient One. "They make a habit of this. They lure young Americans to these lonely places promising to sell them drugs, then they kill them, taking the money they bring and their car. They are celebrating now."
"Their celebration will be short-lived," said Natchez. "It is permitted for us to kill them, is it not?"
"It is permitted for you to destroy evil and profit from it, but you must never harm the good, or the
agreement between us is broken, and that life you have been given will be taken back."
"We understand the rules by which your people live," said Geronimo. "We will not violate your ways. Lame Wolf. I learned enough from the last time we met to respect your power no matter what form you have!"
"Good!" said The Ancient One. "Two of these men have women. they are in a shack just down the road. They will make good wives, and good treatment will make them loyal. There is also an old dry well there; a perfect place."
"As always," said Geronimo, "you think like an Apache!"
"I will leave you then," said The Ancient One.
"For now," said Geronimo.
The Ancient One spread his wings and soared off as those he had left behind slipped off into the darkness toward the pickup truck where the rifles of the men in the car carelessly lay.
The strong beats of The Ancient One's wings carried him swiftly and far. At a burning house where the owners had escaped the flames but not the smoke, he left seven Commanche. At an auto accident he left six Souix. Other places he left Arapaho, Commanche, Cheyenne, Blackfoot, Crow. Though the night was yet early, he had done an incredible amount of work. Yet not even one-third of the charges he carried were delivered.
He was about to speed east when from the city below two forms rose to greet him. Their pleas made The Ancient One veer towards them, and as they hovered in the sky high above the city, he listened to their tales. Finally, he descended, following the first to an expensive house on the outskirdts of the city. The door was tightly locked, but The Ancient One easily slipped through the crack, around its edge and stood in its livingroom. To his left was a hallway. The final door along it stood open and The Ancient One walked down, peering in the room. A naked boy of perhaps twelve, and a much older man were on the bed. The boy was crying. "Please, daddy," he was saying, "don't do it any more. It hurts!"
"How many times have I told you," the older man said, "I don't like it when you whimper about it. You're a big boy. Lie there and be still 'til I'm done. Your whining spoils my fun."
The Ancient One backed off. The door to another room stood ajar and he peeked in. It was the bathroom. A tub of warm water already waited and an electric heater warmed the room. The man and boy emerged from the bedroom. "Now get to your room," the man said. "I'm going to take my bath. You can take your shower in the morning before school."
As the boy entered his room and shut the door, the man walked passed The Ancient One, entered the bathroom and climbed in the tub. A look of extreme pleasure and joy was on his face. The Ancient One entered the bathhroom, sat on the toilet and materialized, picking up the electric heater and holding it over the water. The man's eyes had been closed all this time, but as he opened them, a look of bewildered terror came on his face. He pulled himself up a little. "No!" he said, "No! Don't! Please!"

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