Tungsten

~Tungsten~

The cherry blossoms are bursting, showing off their most glorious display of summer colors when Tungsten's annual journey to expand the minds of Shengui Guo's youths begins.

He wanders from one village to the next, carrying a woven sack full of scrolls he's picked up over the years from the Floating Market. The children adore their wandering teacher. They place themselves strategically along Kaefox Lane, perched among the tree branches or lounging beside one of the many serenity pools, calling out to one another at the first hint of the sunset-colored toadstools that set him apart from your typical orange-hued tortoise. They all have spent days combing the nearby hills for wild strawberries and present him with a massive gift basket as he is making his way to the podium where he will give his lecture. His love for berries is well known. His special preference for strawberries is a widely known secret he shares with each class, as if their small group were the only ones in the world he would entrust with such important knowledge.

There is some squirming and muttering among the youngest members of his audience. These are the newbies, the youths not yet brought under the enchanting power of Tungsten's teaching voice.

His words roll out, rich as honey.

"In a certain village where the sun shows its face only for a few months in the year, there lived a young tigrean with dreams of finding out what was at the heart of a star..."

Such a story could spin out into an epic adventure that would not only identify the various plants and elements unique to the land of Shengui Guo but would also give valuable insight into the workings of mathematics, science, geography and critical thinking. The power of storytelling could teach more in an hour than several spent behind a stiff wooden desk, memorizing facts from some dry text. Tungsten was a firm believer in letting the natural world teach powerful lessons.

He was no easygoing professor willing to hand away lessons like candy, though. At times, he is quite cryptic. Above all else, he likes to make his students think.

Among the listeners on this day is a young kumos with flowers in her braids and a skirt the color of the sky at dawn. She listens politely to his entire lecture, nodding along though many of the lessons go above her head. Finally, her curiosity gets the better of her. She raises a paw.

"Yes, my child?"

"Mr. Tungsten, my brother says you were named for a great spirit that travels between worlds. Is that true?"

His laughter is rich and full-bodied. He nods his sage head, ever so slightly.

"It has been many moons since I recalled my own humble beginnings. I am sure Chanterelle would not mind helping me in the telling."

His minion is his constant companion, reminding him to eat when some scholarly passion distracts him for hours on end and ranting at him ever so gently when he stays up way too late tracking cosmic projections. It is she who chides him every year as they begin their preparations for the journey down the mountain.

Chanterelle: "Tungsten, you are going to be late."

Tungsten: "I am never late. Nor am I ever early. I arrive precisely when I mean to.”

Now she twirls the little toadstool she uses as an umbrella, enchanting even the most restless child to settle down and listen.

"There is a world not so different from ours, a world made up of water and sky and great bodies of land. Creatures live there in their diverse forms, though in some ways they are quite different from us. For one thing, they lost their connection to magic many thousands of years ago. For another, the elements that make up the composition of their world are quite different from our own. One of these is Tungsten, the toughest thing found in nature."

She looks expectantly at Tungsten, letting him continue as he will.

"My mother was a traveler of worlds. She saw this wonder, known as tungsten. She witnessed its density and how it is nearly impossible to melt. This was what she wanted for her son. She wanted me to be indestructible. Father was one of the great gurus of his time. He wanted me to have all the knowledge of all the worlds. For many years, my spirit struggled to find balance..."

As with all of his stories, he did not merely entertain. He led his students along on a journey that made them think through the problems he himself had faced.

His departure came when the leaves were turning to rich shades of red and gold. There were always a few tears shed when he left.

His home in the mountains was no frugal cave with moss for bedding and punishing winds. The house was nestled against the shoulder of a friendly mountain, its rock gardens sheltered from winter's cruelty by clever constructions of bamboo and wood. Winter and early spring were a time for nestling before the fireplace in his favorite chair, warm drink in one hand and one of the many books from his library in the other. Chanterelle had her own little sofa on which she could spend many a contented hour. It even came with a nifty holder for her little mushroom umbrella.

At night they would look out the great picture window at the stars and remember their journey of bygone days.

~Credits~

Profile by: Ringo
Extra Code by: Yuzu
Edited by: Chrysariel
Recolored Overlay by: Chrysariel
Background by: StefwithanF Pixabay
Story by: Pureflower
Name by: Chrysariel
Rephrased Quote by: Gandalf the Gray
The Fellowship of the Ring, 2001 movie based on
The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien,
Published July 29, 1954.
Actual Quote: “A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins.
Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.”

Thanks to VINYL for letting me adopt him~ <3