Cavern Scents Journey

This message is for Ghaelen D’Lareh. Ms. D’Lareh, this is Troiana at Dr. Rugalin’s office. I’m calling to remind you of your appointment tomorrow at 1:45pm. Please remember to avoid eating, smoking, or drinking coffee or alcohol for twelve hours before your appointment. If you cannot make this appointment, please call us at least twenty-four hours in advance.

Chink……  chink……  chink……

The quiet tink of glass rod on glass rim penetrated the drawn out wind-like sound I heard as I breathed in.

Chink…….

Leaning forward I inhaled the new combination of scents.  Ooof…  too much pine.

“Rats.”

Well, let it cook.  Smell it again in a few hours.  I thought about the painting — something different would be revealed today as the layers of oils and pigments interacted with each other.  These layers would interact, too, and in a day I would know in which direction the fragrance would go.  Perhaps it would not be so much for uplifting as for opening.  The pine would stay; maybe the rosemary would go.

I capped the test bottle and set it on the shelf.  “I’m sure you’ll let me know what you’ll be. “  For now it was test blend #54.

As I turned away, the cobalt bottle on the left caught my eye.  I nearly pulled away from it this time before reaching out to pick it up.  For some time I looked at the faded label, trying once again to make out the D’ni word.  It had sat on this shelf for a year now…. yes, it was nearly a year ago I had discovered it wedged between the rocks at the bottom of the ravine.  Holding it up to the light I could see the liquid inside and the thinness of the glass that belied the strength of the container.  I searched again for the scratch I knew wasn’t anywhere on the glass.

“How did you stay in there?” I asked again of the stopper.  The graceful curve of the three-edged stone top showed some wear, but gave no indication of its age.   There was one tiny chip in one of the edges that indicated it had fallen, but not the force of the impact.   In one moment the stopper seemed to have been carved, in the next to have been shaped and fired.  The ambiguity of D’ni materials no longer surprised me; still, I thought for the hundredth time about taking a needle tool to a very small section just to see if it would scratch.  Instead, I brought the bottle to my nose and sniffed the rim.  Such a faint scent that I couldn’t tell what it was.  Question after question marched through my thoughts — what was it?  Was it an absolute or a blend?  Cut or pure?  Was it dangerous?  A medicine?  A poison?  Who lost it?  Are they looking for it?

What does it smell like?

I could almost feel the intensity of the substance through the glass, at once beckoning me to make some use of it and warning me of its potential.  There was in it a feeling of something larger than affect — some power that was greater than any knowledge I had at present.  But for one thing I knew without doubt:

Opening the bottle would most certainly bring change.

Setting the bottle back on the shelf, I knew I would continue looking for answers.  The overgrowth on the road up above the rock outcropping had suggested a long duration of disuse.  What had been a small village some distance away was little more than crumbled huts abandoned for some time as well.  What timbers stood on their foundations of stone demonstrated the soundness of the construction.  Weeds, grass, thorny bushes kept prying hands from easily overturning its secrets.  Nothing had indicated who or what had been responsible for the bottle or its contents.

Travelers, perhaps, as I had been.

I breathed in again, enjoying the immediate sense of balance and peace that accompanied attending to the action.  Jurel was right about that — one cannot listen to their own breath and simultaneously think about anything else.  Or worry.  I nearly laughed at the simplicity of it and breathed in again, listening to the wind-like sound in my ears.

Yes, yes, ok, you are right about that one.  I will follow your advice this time.  Yes it does work.  Yes, yes, I’ll keep quiet about it.  Are you breathing or worrying about me talking too much?

We had both laughed that time.

The insight flashed and was gone before the smile on my face was fully formed.  An instant later it had given way to an open-mouthed “Oh….”

“No.”  I picked up test blend #54 and smelled it, opening my nostrils so the molecules of scent would reach the back of my nasal passages.  “Let it keep cooking,” I said as I replaced the bottle on the shelf and quickly exited the room.  “I don’t have time.”

Be careful, Ghaelen.  You’ll know things when you listen to your own breathing.  It’s the kind of knowing you can ignore, but you can’t un-know.

Yeah, yeah.  I know.  I mean, I know that you said that would happen, but not what it would… oh crap…

I heaved a breath, trying not to listen to it, knowing that, too, that I would listen.

I knew as well that I would go.  “Damn…”

Surface Date:  March 7, 2005

To:  Ghaelen D’Lareh

From:  Gr’noreth Solaken

Ghaelen,

We’d like to nominate your latest fragrance blend, “Nee Lehnah,” for a Creative Alchemy Award from the Revnekan Institute of the Healing Arts.  If you are interested in this award, there are a few items we need from you by SD March 13 at 5pm.

• A sample of the fragrance oil
• A description of the fragrance, what flora in an age or ages inspired the creative process, and anything about the contents you are willing to explain.
• Testimonies from three to five people about the positive or negative effects of the fragrance (preferably positive).  These do need to be signed by the author.

My apologies for the delay in notification; the time got away from me and I thought you were still on the surface.  Please respond with your decision.

Best of luck,

GS

I know I should not be frustrated.  This could be a great honor.  He invited me to the institute and introduced me to all of those great people.  This could be a way to spend more time there…. Maybe they would allow me to see the gardens.  But by tomorrow?  I’ll never get all of those materials together by tomorrow!

This is a test.  Of course it is.  The lesson I attended on patience and peace.  I know there are always tests.

But by tomorrow?  It can’t be done!  How am I going to find five people to test and comment on the fragrance?  They are scattered around the ages and on the surface.  Man, I’m sunk on this one.

It will be such a loss for the blend to lose this potential.  I have to try.

Doesn’t he understand it takes time?

The substance can’t be bee pollen. I am certain there were bees in both places, and this smells like the pollen I purchased at the farmer’s market yesterday. Something else, though. Something not quite right.

Check Teledahn again.

I really should say that I decided to write down the story when I found the Big Box, not when I discovered the Little Box had disappeared. After all, had I not found the Big Box I wouldn’t have known about the Little Box at all.  Its subsequent disappearance would not have made a difference to me. It would have come and gone, and in my little universe I would never have encountered it.

But I did. I realized there was a fragrance in the room. It was different from those outside, and couldn’t be coming from any plants. So, like I always do, I followed my nose. The dust was pretty thick, but dust there can get thick rather quickly. So that doesn’t tell me how long it had been in there.

I still can’t believe no one has ever made mention of it. I mean, as carefully as explorers have scoured the ages and any surrounding area, no one noticed it? I suppose it’s possible, since I wouldn’t have either had I not been sniffing for it.

Jeeze that’s embarrassing to say. Sniffing for it. I think it’s a good thing I haven’t said anything to anyone. Although now I’d like to tell Veralun. Since we’ve developed the Guild of Healers site a little, and there is some interest (positive, thank goodness) I am learning that there are other people who are interested in the properties of plantlife in and around the Cavern. That’s his area of expertise; maybe he will come back there with me and study the scene.

Ruby might, too, although she had something of a bad experience there last year.  Still, she might actually be willing to tell me about the area where I found the Big Box.

I really should go and talk to the people at the Zoological Society. They might know something about it. I have plans to get more involved over there now that I have studied some of the resins and extracted a few of the essential oils. I just need to decide what how to introduce my project.

Part of my hesitation with the DZS stems from the fact that I haven’t collected many essences, so I don’t have a lot to contribute yet to their database. I try not to disturb any of the living plants, since I don’t know what effect digging into them would have. I’m grateful that some ooze oil or resin and others flower and drop petals or leaves. I don’t feel nearly as guilty picking up petals or holding a vial up to running sap. Well, I don’t feel too guilty cutting a stalk or two, or picking a few blades of grass. I’ve picked up whole clumps of grass that had been uprooted, especially in Tsogal. People can really tear up the landscape when they take off running to get through the door. Delin, too.

The event that triggered my decision to write about this part of my journey was the disappearance of the Little Box. I realized, when I went back and saw that it was gone from the Big Box, that the smell of its contents had reached someone who cared. Besides me.

And I didn’t really care at the moment I found it, I just got excited at a new find. Especially since that find came on the heels of the Lara Documents find. We all thought for so long that all we got was more DRC evasiveness and the nonsensical stories about Guild history (which didn’t do a thing for me, btw). I really wish people wouldn’t believe what they are told just because someone has been given a “title” and a script. Anyone can tell a story, but not many can tell a good one. And then there’s “delivery” which is often more important than the story itself. I mean, how often have I told a joke so badly that it was nowhere near funny? Too many — terrible at telling jokes. Or stories.

So I stick to telling what “is.” What I say I see is what I see.  Or what I smell, in this case. Besides, the truth has always been more interesting to me. So, no storytelling blather here — just the truth.

And the truth right now is: The Little Box is gone. I don’t know when it was taken. Sometime between and February 3, 2008. Heck, I don’t even know when it was put there — centuries ago? Last October?

I was planning to say something about it when the gateway controllers announced they are closing the gate on April 4. You know, I thought about maybe getting some help. Or at least find out that someone had dropped it–

No…. they wouldn’t have dropped it….. can’t drop a box and have it land there.

How to begin? Can’t start at the beginning because the beginning has been over for a while. Even though I decided rather recently to begin to tell the story that began back when — I, like most humans, want to tell the story from start to finish. My friend Ruby says it doesn’t work that way — we all jump into a story in the middle, even the story of our lives. We spend our time from that moment on trying to keep up with the story and the history at the same time. Our heads waggle back and forth trying to read two things at once. I believe her.

I also like to be different. So for this story we’re going to jump in, stand in the middle and pull both ends in our direction. When all three meet that’s the end of that story.

Or the beginning of another.

At any rate, that’s why this is Chapter -10 (negative 10). I’m standing in the center with a lot to say about what brought the story to this point. There’s a lot of story to tell, too. That will begin with Chapter 10, just to make things even. I need space in between, too, for the parts of story and history that will happen as I fill in from the ends.

I know this is out of order, but the journey was out of order. Each time I lept off the cliff, I ended up in another multiverse. I managed to make my way back home, and tried to go in “order,” but something would happen and I’d fall off another edge. I decided that if I start with Chapter -10 and Chapter 10, I could work my way to Chapter 0, which will be interesting to say the least as some people say 0 doesn’t really exist except as a place holder. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if that chapter does exist when we get to it.

Now I know this story says it’s about Scents, and it is. Lots of wonderful fragrances. Flowers, trees, grasses, leaves, wood, air, all sorts of natural scents. They are everywhere. Each is unique, and each plant has unique properties, too, that reflect the nature of the plant in the way the essence oil or resin reacts with the body. Human or D’ni I might add, although I’m sure the D’ni physiology was somewhat different from that of a human. If you breathe deeply when in Kadish, you can almost taste the age and pine-like smell emanating from the leaves as they fall. You’d think it would be musty — I did when I first arrived. But no, there are pockets of space in between the heavy trunks that allow for air flow. Good thing, too, so that the oxygen can circulate for us on our journeys.

I didn’t know this, of course, when I was smelling lilacs on the surface and wondering how I could extract the fragrance. Lilacs are such fragile things that their scent can’t be collected without great difficulty. Just too ephemeral. Oils or waxes won’t hold it, and alcoholic bases overpower it, even the mildest base. If you can get some of the oil, it’s at least 100 times more expensive than rose. Amazing. The lowly lilac.

But that’s not part of the story, the lilac. The story is about Cavern Scents. I guess I’d better get to writing about that.

I’ve long worked with fragrances and essential oils on the surface, but hadn’t realized there was such a treasure trove of scents in the Cavern and the associated Ages. The journey to find, catalog, and finally duplicate them has been amazing — and frustrating . Everything goes smoothly unless I start looking for that box. It’s like something -or someone – knows I’ve started looking for the box again…

Well, I’ll keep collecting fragrances and studying the plants until until I can’t go back to the Ages any more. Even if I never find the little box again, I feel strongly there is something here worth examining more closely. It might even be of interest to the Guild.

And the box? Probably another DRC coverup. They seem to like us to chase ghosts and phantoms. Heh, they only say they went back to the surface. Yeah, I buy that. I’m on a wild goose chase they set up for some story they want to tell. I’m just a character in a script I’ve never had the chance to read or accept.

Wow, I’m starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist. If I start doing that, I’ll never keep my mind clear. Shake it off, kid, shake it off.

Onward to talk more of dust and dirt. More of smelling, sneezing, testing, and experimenting. I have gotten a couple nice fragrance blends out of it so far. Those definitely make up for the rest of it.