Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [34]
“Suppose a caterpillar spins its cocoon, then bursts out to find itself in a turtle shell, moving slowly across the forest floor.”
She giggled. “What a disappointment.”
“Not really.” He grinned at her. “It had always been a caterpillar, and it was used to moving slowly. It didn’t know it was supposed to be a beautiful butterfly. It was used to the forest floor.”
She screwed up her face and shook her head, then whispered to the tiny dragon cupped in her hand near her chin. “This is an unusual tale.”
“We’re not done. The turtle goes about doing the things that occupy a turtle. But something inside doesn’t feel right. It is compelled to wrap itself in long vines and hibernate. When it emerges sometime later, it discovers its body has metamorphosed into a large, lumbering bird, one too heavy to fly and with wings too puny to be useful.”
“He speaks of a most unusual animal,” Tipper said to Rayn.
“But still,” Paladin said, “the flightless bird is dissatisfied, and one day, it hunkers down in a deep nest of long shafts of prairie grass and goes to sleep. The bird is ill at ease, not because being a flightless bird is a bad thing, but somehow it is not the right thing for a caterpillar.
“It emerges again from the long sleep, and this time it is a bird, not too big, not too small, and a dull black.”
“Can it fly?” Tipper asked.
“Yes, it can fly.”
“So now it is content?”
Paladin shook his head sadly. He stopped walking and turned her to face him. “It will never be content until it finds the full glory of what Wulder created it to be.” He held up a finger. “Once more the bird sleeps deeply and awakes with colors as beautiful as Beccaroon’s plumage. The bird is light and can soar through the heavens. Its song is sweet, and it feels joy as it vocalizes.”
“Now? Now is the bird happy?”
“What do you think?”
She took time to consider. “Caterpillars do not change into birds.”
“That’s right.”
“So?”
“So the bird takes stock of its life and knows it should not be distressed. But still there is that something inside that dampens its pleasure. Something that says, ‘Not yet.’ ”
“So it has to change again.”
“One more time. And this time, at the end of its season of rest, it emerges as a butterfly.”
“I think I know what you’re telling me.”
He lifted an eyebrow and waited.
“The caterpillar wanted to change. Something inside told it to seek something different.”
Paladin nodded.
“But it kept emerging as the wrong thing. Not necessarily a bad thing, but not the right thing.”
He nodded again.
“And until it became the form that Wulder intended, it didn’t feel … peace?”
“That’s right. And even though it gave up its beautiful voice and flights high in the sky, it was content.” He gently hugged her. “When I became the paladin, I knew Wulder was pleased. I am content to be the one who shares His love with people.”
Tipper smiled. “I know what you’ve told me and maybe a bit of what it means. But I think I shall have to do some thinking before I know why you told me of this misguided caterpillar.”
“Don’t forget to bring Wulder into your musing. The life cycle of His caterpillar is only a symbol of what He wants for you.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll see you and Rayn in the morning.”
He released her and walked away. She stood for a moment, stroking the tiny dragon with a fingertip. When she looked down, her eyes widened with surprise. Rayn’s color had changed to gold, and he glowed with a soft radiance as he slept.
13
Tavern
The slim possibility of walking into a tavern and not being noticed rankled him. Sir Beccaroon did not often wish to be of another species, but spying and his unmistakable identity did not go well together. He sat at a corner table and asked for a bowl of water and the specialty bread of the Round Baker Inn.
“My pleasure,” said the serving girl, who could not keep the awe out of her voice or expressive face. Obviously grand parrots did not visit the small town of Selkskin.
He nodded and cut off any further questions by turning