Angel Wing Art Farm

Find My Way Home ; The Wisdom Seeker was sent to this planet to explore and determine whether it was a habitable world. His assignment by the high council was to seek out knowledge that the world’s dwellers may hold.                                                                                                                                                      The problem started as he arrived through the portal. He was confronted with the stark reality that there were no people.                                                                                                                     Investigating further, he realized there were no birds or animals either. From all appearances, it appears that the civilization this planet once held has long vanished. The only things remaining were a howling wind, a beach that stretched between an angry sea and tall stone cliffs, with a red, dying Sun hanging in the sky.  “What kind of place is this?” he questioned himself. “Something feels wrong.”  Walking along the beach, he continued his investigation of this lonely world when he spotted, in the distance, a grassy mound. “A good vantage point to search for life,” he thought.       Quickly making his way toward the grassy mound, the ground suddenly began to shake violently. As it did, the cliffs spat shards of stone, falling and striking the Wisdom Seeker unconscious.                                                                                                                                             When he finally awoke, lying in the wet sand, he was unaware of how much time had passed. As some of us are aware, all Wisdom Seekers know they have only a limited time in a location before the portal that brought them there snaps shut forever, and fearfully, this may be one of those times.                                                                                                                                             There was one way to find out how long he had spent unconscious. Lifting his staff to the air, he summoned the portal to appear. To his dismay, the globe atop the staff did not glow. Fear began to spread within him. Again, he beckoned for the portal to appear. No portal.                                  The only conclusion is that he had spent  too much time here. The portal was gone.  His way home was lost.   Stranded.                                                                                                                     Remembering the grass mound he had seen before the earthquake, he hurried towards it. Still groggy from the hit on the head he took, he carefully followed a dirt path up the grassy mound. The path appears to have been worn into the hill long ago, suggesting that people were here at some point.  “Maybe they still are,” the Wisdom Seeker said to himself. “If I can find them, I might be able to survive on this isolated planet.”                                                                             Finally, he crested the hill. To his surprise, out into the angry sea a lighthouse made of stone had jutted out of the water.  At this moment, the dying red Sun was positioned directly behind the tower. As it did, a rainbow of color extended from the lighthouse tower. He thought that if he could get his staff to produce a matching energy signature, a portal might be created.  The Wisdom Seeker knew that the portal would not be stable enough for him to travel, but it would be able to open a wormhole of communication in the sky and, in doing so, send an orb through it to his home, Aven, and inform them that he was still alive but unable to return.                      Knowing that time was of the essence and not sure how long the rainbow energy coming from the lighthouse would last, he raised his staff to the sky.                                                                    Using all the brawn he had left, he summoned his staff to release all the power that it had stored within it. Nothing was happening, and the rainbow was growing lighter by the second, therefore, losing its energy. Once again, he raised the staff and chanted words from an ancient language over and over.                                                                                                                             By now, his arm began to shake with exhaustion, and he fell to his knees. Suddenly, out of the staff orb, a bolt of multicolored light flickered. The light slowly marched its way across the sky, finally joining the other rainbow extending from the lighthouse. When they connected, a bridge formed, and the air between them began to crackle and pop. A portal then materialized in the sky.     Gathering what strength he had left, the Wisdom Seeker lifted himself up and drew the communication glass orb from inside his robe. Hoping against hope that the portal would remain stable, the Seeker, with one shaky breath, whispered into the orb and hurled it into the sky and through the portal. The orb vanished inside, and the portal winked shut.                                                 Lying there on top of the gressy hill without any energy left, he thought to himself,” Did it work. Will I be saved, or will I be marooned on this forsaken rock for the rest of my eternity?”