Words of a Sage

Words of a Sage

An old hunchbacked sage is addressing a large band of rebels that are preparing an attack on a small encampment of the hated kingdom ruler’s army. Knowing the juicy bait of a small patrol is too good to be true, the sage attempts to convince them to change their plans by presenting a motivational speech. Standing atop a small boulder, leaning on his simple oak staff, the sage speaks softly, “I used to think that the sword and axe were the most important tools for any man who seeks to defend all that he holds dear, but I have since discovered that there is something just as powerful which also takes into account a long-term vision for things. There may be a time for blades, but it should not be the first choice of a man who truly wants to defend! The enemy will turn to force of arms first to get what they want, but there is a better way for us who just want to live in peace and for us that are more simple kinds of folks.” 

The sage notices that he has the entire band’s full attention so he musters as much strength as he can to present his invitation, “If any of you want to find this better path, then follow me instead of going on this attack. Follow me and I will guide you to a truly enlightening power that does not rely on physical strength but instead relies on influence and conviction. Who will join me?”

The sage looks down from his perch and surveys the stern faces of the rebel group before him in anticipation of new volunteers, but suddenly the whole lot bursts out laughing and shaking their heads they turn back to their armor and attack preparations.

The old sage sighs heavily and turns to leave, but a tug on his robes from below makes him turn his raggedly-hooded head towards a young and very skinny furrow-browed boy no older than eighteen. He will join the cause, but how will he be of much use as his tongue has already been removed by soldiers on what was probably one of the hundreds of recent farmstead invasions for supplies. The sage wonders if the removal of the tongue is a sign that the king is on to something about his new method of battle, but he quickly dismisses the idea as this power has never been in the open before, but has only been kept in secret from sage past to sage present, down the line to a time like the now, where things are so horrible that something must finally turn the tides of life back in the favor of the common man. The boy won't be useful for the artful skill that the sage wishes to pass on, but his spirit and willingness may come in handy for convincing future trainees to follow the cause.

The sage sighs again and he motions for the scrawny young man to follow him, which he does with a slight grin beneath his long oily black hair. Shouldering large bags of supplies the sage and the boy begin on a trek in the opposite direction of the rebel’s attack which, mentioned by the sage in no more than a few words, would most certainly end in failure due to the long line of marching soldiers that were headed in the encamped patrols direction only hours before. Unknown to the sage or the greasy-haired chicken-fed boy, however, is that this was the start of a new administration of defenders that would change their world, one conversation at a time.