- Vol. 01
- Chapter 12
Image by Rhona Byrne
The SentinelHe muttered the blessing that was by now embedded into his mind, soul and heart, wrapped the cloak about him and settled into the position of Watcher. He was of a long tradition of Watchers, the sentinels of the open water that helped guide fishermen and other traveling vessels that sailed on this passage way. Many a misty day did his kindness warn water-travellers of rocky dangers, or of the shallows that occurred far out when the tide became low. As he scanned the horizon, he allowed his mind to wander back to when he reached his manhood ceremony and was selected by the Elders to become a Watcher. The long days of being trained. Learning to remain so still, never moving the his eyes off the water had been tedious and full of strain, but when he was allowed to put on the Watcher cloak for the first time, it was a thankful and joyous anointment.
Stories drifted in from time to time, from fishermen in lands not seen. Of a different kind of Watcher, one that used the red colour from a substance that gave out light and heat. In this frozen precipice of the world, no such thing existed. During the dark evenings he often made suggestions that a group of Watchers go out and search for this new tool, but his ideas were always dismissed as being too dangerous. He was often accused of being foolish for wanting to chase the tales that are of children's fantasies. Deep in his mind he knew that he might well strike out on his own during his time when he rested his eyes. It would give him enough time to cross the water and set out on foot to some other parts to seek this other type of watcher. He shifted his weight slightly, gazed towards the south, his eyes seeking objects upon the low horizon line. He thought of his daughter.