The Old Stranger and the Door        (***LONG***)

Who are you?
You are new to these woods.

I am a human, just like you.

Where from?
What woods?

I am from the world.
The same as yours.

But we want names.
Use our language... and we will let you in.

I lost my language years ago.
When I left the old woods.
Now I am here for you.
I will guide you to the Door.

The Door?
You know of the Door?

It is Open.
But you have not found It.

Where is the Door?

On the other side of all woods.
At the end of all paths.
I am here for you.
I will take you to the Door.

How?
These are the woods of our fathers.
They will soon be ours.
If we leave... our woods will be taken by others.
And we will have nothing.
We will starve.

There are new woods by the Door.
Filled of beasts and herbs.
Many you have not seen before.
No one has been there.
But I.
Now I am here for you.
I will take you if you follow.

You must earn our trust.
We will not be led from our woods.
Not by the shades of darkness.

I am not a shade of darkness.
Here I am beast, blood and bone.
I see one way, by your way.
I have seen another way... when I was there.
But here... I am here for you... and I see one way.

Then you must follow the ways of our tribe.
Then will you lead us from our woods.


( The Old Stranger stayed for one night among the earthen branches of the tribe's woods.  He awoke pale and exhausted.  The air was heavy.  There was smoke in the dawn.  And dogs wandering.  The sun was hot.  But he was ready for the journey to begin. )


It is time we moved, great keepers of these woods.
We must leave this morning.

You drank of the tea.
You watched us bathe.
You ate from the same bowl.
You heard our songs.
You learned the sounds of our secret instruments.
You wandered among us and told great stories.
And we told you ours.
We decorated your eyes with the symbols of our limbs.
You with your mystery... showed us yours.
But there is still one more.
One more ritual, one more rite of these woods.
If you are of this tribe... then you must stay...
And with your mystery, mesmerize a mate.

I will not mate in these woods.

We will not follow until you do.

But you can only find the Door... by not mating.

How then, tricky stranger, did you deceive us?
Why then, did you partake in our ways?

You did not warn me of these woods.
You did not tell what I should find among your ways.
If I knew... I would have never started.
I would have made great speeches.
I would have left.
And by my legend would your sons follow.
The tea that I drank of... I saw nothing.
Only belief.
The bodies I watched bathe... I saw nothing.
The same body.
The bowl that I ate from... which you ate from too...
I saw nothing.
It was the same food.
Your stories and your songs... I saw nothing.
They were found elsewhere.
Your symbols... I saw nothing.
They are the same among all paths.
If I were to mate... then here, I would see nothing.
It would be a lost child in the same woods.

But will you mate if we follow, when we reach the Door?
Will you mate in the woods beside the Door?

No.
For even there... the Door would disappear.
The hidden woods... would no longer be.
And the Door would be closed.
For it is Open only on the other side of all woods.
If I must mate... if I will at all...
Then I must only after I Enter the Door.


( And with this great mystery, the elders gathered.  The children begged.  They saw it as a sign.  A song of the spirits to move on.  And so a great procession followed the Old Stranger through many woods.  Great wars were fought with each new tribe encountered.  Many joined and many remained.  Some became too old to journey on and were left behind.  Finally, a small band of young warriors followed the Old Stranger to the last woods.  The Door was there.  They gazed at It's immensity.  Vibrant patterns of light fabricated from It's interior.  The skies darkened above.  Thunders loudened from every direction.  The winds became a way. )


Why great ancient one, did you not tell us?
Why did you not tell us what is after the Door?
You led us through mires of miserableness and forests of pain.
Many of us died along the way.
It was hard... but we followed on.
Please tell us... now that we are here.

I cannot.
It has been made forbidden.
When I was here last... I did not Enter.
I stayed on this side... I did not see what was After.
I was scarred to Enter.
Scarred that I may never return.
That a nasty torture might await me when I Enter.
A torture I could never escape from.
And I returned to the woods which I had left.
For it is my fear.
My fear which has closed the Door to myself forever.
You must now Enter, my special ones.
For I cannot.
I must stay for the sake of others who might follow this path.
I must be here for them... tell them not to fear.
I must be here for them... to tell them to Enter.

But old father of the far woods, you told us in your stories...
That we are from the same world, of the same face.
The wrinkles of age do not separate us.
We are of innocence, and we are as you.
You are of innocence too.
Your stories are now in many woods.
Those who listen... will make it here to the Door.
Some will Enter... and some will return to bring others.
It will be this way until all tribes get here.
You were the first to find the Door.
And you shall be the first to Enter.
It is your last rite.

You are very wise my children, as wise as I.
I will Enter... but you must promise... to Enter as well.
You must never remain... never return to old woods.

We promise... we will, great ancient one.


( The Old Stranger walked through the Door.  Nothing happened as he disappeared.  He did not return.  The warrior children looked around themselves.  Every beast and every herb gathered easily around them.  The skies were pleasant.  And the children of the last forest pondered for a while... And the path is still out there. )