Vulcan sometimes wondered if her love of climbing trees began with the Shrine of Clairvoyance.
She still remembered the word in Mialo, her village, when Toulin the Great had constructed it in her honor a little over three centuries ago. “They’re calling it the ‘Pillar to Heaven’, have you heard? Built at the highest point of the tallest tree in all the land, and made of pure glass! All to honor the ‘Little Bold One’…”. Vulcan cut her day dreaming short and swung down from the last branch of her tree.
Vulcan wasn’t an egocentric idol but something about having a shrine to oneself on the top of some distant tree would go to anyone’s head.
She took in the offering site where the townspeople gave to stay in her good graces, her largess as well as protection from an outside world.
“Hrmm, pitifully small today”, she said bending down to gather her tribute.
It had been a year since the wonder at the shrine had swapped quite suddenly to boundless questions.
“How are we supposed to use a shrine at the top of the tallest tree in all the land? Doesn’t seem very practical, does it?”
“What have you done for us lately?”
“Where is my hat?”
This had caught Vulcan off guard. She didn’t like being surprised, especially by people who took her help for granted. What was the meaning of a shrine if it was kept basic and ‘practical’? Where would they have put it, next to the Butcher? Vulcan could see the signs now- “Come one, come all to your local convenience shrine!” Bah, what nonsense. Shrines and temples were pointless if they were easy to access; any sorry soul with half a whim to do anything in her name could go up to it. The more inaccessible the shrine, the better, because then only the truly worthy could call on her.
it didn’t take long before their questions morphed into what Vulcan affectionately dubbed the ‘basically blasphemy’ stage.
“What kind of deity allows their shrine to be placed in so high a tree securely away from its people? Not a benevolent one, that’s for sure and certain.”
Ha, Vulcan wasn’t a ‘deity’, she was an idol, and there was a vast difference. (Not that she was going to inform the people of that.) Also any object of worship worth its salt remained uninvolved with the construction of their shrines. It was basic logic; if you work on your own shrine, it loses all its power. So Vulcan hadn’t ‘allowed’ anything to happen, the placement of the shrine was the peoples’ fault, not hers. Not that she complained, it was a great placement!
Then came the final straw as the townspeople cried: “The shrine is so blasted inaccessible, I doubt even the Little Bold One herself could reach it!”
This, in Vulcan’s opinion, was so completely disrespectful, she actively made certain that every single window and bit of glass in the village was fogged to the point of opaqueness the whole year. Even eyeglasses hadn’t been exempt from her fury. She chuckled as she remembered people running into doors and tripping over stones.
And then yesterday, it finally happened.
A young man, “who couldn’t have been uglier”, took the stage at the village townhouse in the evening, and gave a speech. It went something like this: “Greetings, people of Mialo! My name is Galligan. On this day three centuries ago, my ancestor “Toulin the Great” built the Shrine of Clairvoyance at the top of the highest tree in the land. How he accomplished such a feat, no one knows. Even from his own family he kept his methods.”
Lifting his arm toward Vulcan and pointing a barnacled finger continued, ”This… Little Bold One watched with glee as our people struggled to get to the top in order to find her shrine.”
“That was inaccurate; no one had actually tried climbing the tree.” Vulcan hummed to herself.
“…Some even died.”
“Also inaccurate, well at least not by my hand.”
“Well, ladies and gentlemen…” Galligan paused as if to punctuate his epiphany.
“Oh get on with it fool”
“I’ve had a moment of clairvoyance myself. I say it is time that we bring the Shrine down to us! Tomorrow I will climb the tree and finally destroy it!” The crowd began to cheer, and as Galligan left the stage he met eyes with Vulcan, sneered, and passed by with his adoring flock.
“This’ll be fun.” Vulcan seethed as the last of the townspeople left their “hut”.
In the morning, the entire village had the audacity to gather beneath the great tree and rally for the heretic.
If they honestly thought that Vulcan was just going to sit idly by, they were sorely mistaken.
Toulin’s Tree was massive, both in circumference and height. It would take 20 people standing hand in hand to fully round the tree, and over half the village standing directly on top of each other to reach the top. Its bark was of a brighter, tan variety, with huge, leafy branches stretching out from the trunk about halfway up, and if you squinted your eyes tight enough, you could catch a glimpse of a shimmer at the top- the Shrine of Clairvoyance, made out of pure, transparent glass.
At the tree’s base stood young Galligan, smiling confidently at his people, with climbing rods in his hands and a pickaxe strapped to his back. A black crow perched on his shoulder, cawing at those who came too close. The excitement throughout the area was clear in both chatter and sheer size of the crowd. Galligan looked around and took a deep breath, preparing to catch everyone’s attention.
“I CHALLENGE YOU!” a shrill voice boomed.
Everyone hushed.
And from a swiftly parting crowd emerged Vulcan, small yet mighty, crystalline body glittering in a patch of sunlight, with an expression of pure righteous anger on her face.
“I challenge you, Galligan, to a test of strength!” she called, deathly serious.
Galligan gulped, nervously looking at Vulcan and scanning the crowd and replied, “What are your terms Little One?”
Vulcan smiled up at him ignoring the small slight. “A race. You against me, up the tree. No dirty play, just fair effort. If you win, you can destroy the shrine.”
Galligan leaned back and pursed his lips. “And if you win?”
“Victory is its own reward, mortal.” she said.
The young man looked over Vulcan’s head to the hushed crowd around him. He received no encouragement; everyone just expectantly stared. Vulcan grinned. She’d trapped him. If he backed down now he’d be branded a coward for the rest of his life, and if he didn’t he’d be humiliated with loss for being too reckless and full of himself.
He swallowed as some steel came to his expression. “I accept your terms,” his crow cawed at her from atop his shoulder. Nasty creatures, those birds. She bared her teeth at it, then turned away.
Well, at least he’s brave, she thought as they both moved to opposite ends of the tree.
Vulcan cracked her knuckles, shook her arms out and crouched ready to explode with excitement. It was time. Using her kind’s language, she called out for him to make preparations.
“Endio!”
she spoke, summoning two rods of tempered glass from the ground and flipping them in her palms. A murmur rippled across the crowd; the Language of the Idols wasn’t used lightly.
Galligan, on the other side of the tree, understood the implications. A shiver ran down his spine as he replied,
“Benim.”
He was ready; he whistled to his crow, who took off to a distant branch high on the tree.
In unison, the competitors’ audience eagerly bound themselves as witnesses.
“Anteion!”
And with that the great race began.
Vulcan was already leaping, her rods jamming into the tree bark as she swung herself up and pulled them out, stabbing them in again six feet higher. It probably looked impossible to the audience, what she was doing. She didn’t know what Galligan was attempting on the other side but she may as well have already reached the top.
She grinned to herself, and gave a hearty warrior’s cry, boosting speed even more. She was going to beat this boy thoroughly.
In a stroke of curiosity, she adjusted her path to the left, hoping to catch a glimpse of where the poor soul was at. Wouldn’t be easy for him to go back down there so swiftly humiliated and-
Wait, WHAT?
Vulcan barely had to look down at all; he was right there, on her tail! Somehow he was very nearly keeping pace with her! Unacceptable.
There were very few times when Vulcan had felt genuinely threatened in a competition in her existence. She was known for her strength and athleticism amongst the other idols; victory was a comfortable, familiar word to her.
It was also a need.
She channeled all of her fury, every ounce of her spirit, into her jumps, and suddenly she was moving twice as quick as before. By the time she’d reached the branches of the tree it had scarcely been a few moments, and she dodged them with ease, launching herself in different directions. Within the span of a minute that once-distant glimmer at the top of the tree was now a clear image beyond the leaves; her beautiful shrine. So close!
Smiling with the crazed energy of a Ferlight fighting for its life, she carefully rounded the tree to launch herself directly onto the entrance platform. This was it.
She pulled up, left the rods stuck in the tree, and went flying upwards. Just a few more seconds…!
Something black and feathery crashed into her, cawing and pecking her head, and in one swift motion ruining all of her momentum and equilibrium.
When she fell, it was fast and far. She spun in the air, taking a whole five seconds to process what had happened before she summoned a new set of tempered glass rods and snapped them back into the tree, catching herself.
Moments passed fast as she tried to catch her breath and register what exactly had occurred.
One. Galligan’s crow had purposefully knocked her down.
Two. That meant he was playing dirty, which in this case she had clearly made against the terms; so he was cheating.
Three. If he honestly thought that would be good enough to make him win, he was a worse fool than she thought.
Four. They’re both going to pay.
Blindingly fast, Vulcan pounced up the tree, rounding so she’d be directly under the imbecile. She roared in fury, and changed tactics slightly- she just barely stuck the rods into the bark, using the extra momentum to swing herself with even more velocity. It wasn’t a tactic of thought; every bone in her body was chanting “Victory!” By the time Galligan bothered to spare a glance down through the branches, Vulcan was shooting up past him like a slingshot, adjusting her trajectory every so slightly each time to avoid eating leaves.
As she neared her last leap, she searched for the crow, quickly pinning her gaze on it in the bright sky. She angled her last jump in such a manner that by the time it dove for her, the vile disease of a bird glanced off her head.
Immediately after landing she turned towards it, watching it tumble away trying to right itself.
Vulcan didn’t even really register that her feet were no longer dangling in the air; words were leaving her mouth faster than she could think. “HARK, FOUL CREATURE!”
The bird immediately turned around to face her in the air, something in her voice containing such a primal command it couldn’t help but listen.
Vulcan ground her teeth, “For the confounding of a competition, for attacking me with ease, and for trying to fly away like a coward in the face of consequences, I CURSE THEE! YOU AND YOUR KIND SHALL NEVER SEE GLASS AGAIN!”
Thunder struck somewhere in the distance as the crow cawed at what was surely an immense loss for its kind. It turned over its wing and swiftly flew away in shame.
It was only then that Vulcan finally realized what she was standing on; the Shrine of Clairvoyance. Smiling slowly, she carefully looked down through the glass.
Galligan distantly stared up at her in astonishment from the middle of the branches, paused against the bark catching his breath.
A laugh escaped her, “Little Bold One indeed”.