The Quest of Arthanion....

I heard this tale in the wild wind--
The immortal Zephyr that sweeps o'er the Seas
And Oceans of Time; what are aeons to the wind?
Old Noah's ark was carried across the waves
Of the ancient greedy deluge by the same wild wind
That told me this tale, more ancient still...

Once, in a glittering empire long forgotten,
Her memory but a shadowy dream of whispered legend
which some fools now call Mu or Atlantis,
There lived a man named Arthanion;
A scholar, a dreamer, a poet---
A singularly single man, a haunter of shadows,
Who longed for something his paradise could not offer...
He rejoiced not in the jeweled temples
And palaces of his great city;
The sumptuous banquets pleased him not,
No honeyed, spiced mulled wines could
Give him pleasure or oblivion---
Even the sleek and silk-skinned, sweet-scented
Adepts in love,
Exquisite women and beautiful boys alike
Left Arthanion cold;
Amidst splendour and pleasures undreamed of,
He walked alone, dissatisfied.
Only in books could this man solace find;
By night and day the scholar devoured scrolls
And tomes of yore, searching, researching,
Seeking he knew not what--until at last
Even his beloved books failed him;
He sold all that he had, and with the proceeds
Bought a pound of incense made from
The Forbidden Lotus,
That fabled flower whose perfume
No mortal was meant to inhale!
He locked himself in the sanctuary
Of the moonlit Temple of Dreams
And burned it all, sitting in the midst
Of the heady silver smoke
And inhaling deeply...

Thirteen hours later, pale and shaken
But with deep purpose burning in
His red-rimmed eyes, Arthanion emerged
From his seclusion--into the venerable
House Of Council the seeker strode
And harangued the startled Elders:
"Sacred Fathers, give me means
To journey from here to Mount Yaanek--
To the ice-crownéd peaks of Mount Yaanek,
From whence I shall bring back such knowledge
That will make this so-called paradise of yours
Seem but a shallow, sickly reverie!"
The Elders frowned and muttered,
Tugged their long white beards, debated
Many long hours, while Arthanion,
Like a hungry tiger, stalked round and round
The Council chamber, whispering into aged ears,
Dropping hints and promises, until at last
The Elders voted to fund his expedition---
No expense was spared; the finest horses, camels,
Tents of purple silk, sixscore brawny slaves,
Thirteen comely virgins with tresses like unto
Blood-red sunsets
And eyes like limpid pools,
And food and drink enough
To feed a hundred kings--
Arthanion, like a Rajah
Astride an Elephant with gold-tipped
Tusks, rode at the head
Of the cavalcade, with a wild wind
Gusting at their tails;
Twelve days they journeyed,
Into the bitter North, steep
And barren lands--tall and
Sharp-fangéd mountains loomed
Before them, crowned with ice
And black clouds, streaked with lightning---
Until at last, at dawn of the thirteenth day,
Before them reared the jagged twin-forked
And forboding escarpment
Of Mount Yaanek!

Here, at the cold stone foot
Of that dread mountain,
Arthanion bade the thirteen virgins kneel
And call unto the gods,
Their sweet voices never ceasing, whilst
He alone ascended the craggy peak...
The virgins shivered, filled with awe
At his blazing eyes and voice
Of stern command--so they obeyed,
Praying to the entire Pantheon
As their possessed master, staff in hand,
Went up to the mountain...
The day passed swiftly by,
Night fell in plumes of purple shadow,
Enveloping the awestruck virgins
In her blue-black velvet shroud,
But still Arthanion did not return...
"What does he hope to find up there?"
One virgin dared break the murmured hymns
To ask another--and from the darkness above,
A black-winged Thing yanked the foolish girl
Shrieking into the ebon sky, as a raven snatches
A mouse!  Twelve more voices screeched
As, one by one, each virgin was plucked off
The stony ground by taloned claws
And carried away on midnight-shrouded wings...
Then fell the Scepter of Chaos
Upon the camp; camels and horses
And brawny slaves, all were taken,
Devoured by the children of pitiless
Mother Night...only the mighty
Elephant, placidly snoring, escaped
The unseen terrors...finally, cold Dawn,
Pale amber and blushing rose, dispelled
The darkness, brought the shy sun forth
To look upon dark Yaanek, upon whose sullen
Craggy face, like some impudent insect,
Arthanion descended with a smile...

He ate a hearty breakfast in the ruined camp,
Gathered up a week's rations, then climbed
Atop his elephant and rode away
From the dreadful mountain, but not
Homeward to the glittering jeweled kingdom
Of his youth--turning his back forever
On his home, the seeker went into
The East, the salt-spray scent
Of the Eternal Sea beckoning him!
Seven days eastward, into a vast
And steamy jungle, where many years before
The elephant had been born--trumpeting
His delight, the mighty beast danced,
Shaking earth and sky in jubilation!
"Yes, great one," Arthanion called
Into the huge flapping ears, "Here
You and I shall part!  Go you unto your
Kindred, whiles I unto the sea
Shall go on foot, alone."
With gentle strength the mighty trunk
Lifted the mad poet to the soft earth
And with an imperial salute
The behemoth vanished into the vasty jungle
As Arthanion walked straight on, through
The damp and misty vines and trees,
Until at once his feet found sand and pebbles
And the foamy surf did lap around his ankles!
The Sea stretched endlessly before the seeker,
But Arthanion's eyes were fixed,
Not on the curved horizon, but upon
A jutting coral reef which stood
Ten fathoms up out of the swirling waters,
A wall of black volcanic rock, in which
A great round hole had been gnawed
By endless pounding waves; like a huge
Portal, this hole gaped and beckoned him--
Arthenion fell upon his face, for this Door
Was what he'd seen in his lotus vision,
And confirmed upon the towering peaks
Of Yaanek, by the daemons that dwelt there;
In return for sacrifices, they told him how
To step through this portal, and therein find
At last the Truth he sought...
"EUREKA!" cried Arthanion, and plunged into
The briny waters; with lusty strokes he swam,
Scorning the dreadful sharks that nipped at his heels,
Until he clambered up onto the ragged, barnacle-studded
Reef and stood trembling before the huge circular hole;
No longer could he gaze upon
The Ocean before him--a shimmering, mystic
Mist sheathed the round rough hole, sparkling
Like distant stars...no longer did the poet wait:
With a mad howl he hurled himself, body and soul,
Through the smoky Veil...

All this the wild wind told me,
As I stood upon a street corner, half-choked
And deafened by the sights and sounds and smells
Of the dull city; the fragrance
Of a hot-dog stand the wind showed me, as if to say
"Come, see Arthanion's Fate!"
The face of the agéd hot dog vendor,
As he prepared my chili dog with cheese,
Was one of noble wisdom, slightly soured
Yet oddly at peace; "Five bucks, Mac,"
Said he, in golden tones ill-disguised
By the vulgar slang of my world...
"Arthanion?" I whispered, and he looked at me
With eyes that flickered wry amusement
Both at his fate and my confounded tone...
"Is THIS what you left your paradise to find?"
I gasped, waving my arm about
At all the garish, tawdry foolishness
That was my world; the Ancient smirked
And shrugged, then turned to serve
Other customers, leaving me to wonder
What, if anything, could be learned from this.