Glas - An Outline

 Glas (Irish for "green") was born in a season of unusual storms, the sky a sickly, bruised green. From the beginning, this color seemed to cling to him, initially manifesting in negative ways. It was the green of envy, of sickness, of a clinging, possessive nature. His skin had an almost sickly pallor, and his eyes, a pale, watery green, often held a look of resentment.

As a child, Glas was constantly comparing himself to others. He coveted their toys, their talents, their friendships. Green was the color of his jealousy, a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he saw someone else succeed. He was prone to fits of pique, his face turning a mottled green with rage when he felt slighted.

He struggled to form genuine connections, his possessiveness driving people away. He clung too tightly to his few friends, suffocating them with his neediness. Green was the color of his insecurity, a constant fear of being abandoned.

In his teenage years, this envy morphed into a deep-seated bitterness. He saw the world as unfair, believing that everyone else had been given an advantage he lacked. Green became the color of his resentment, a poisonous feeling that festered within him. He became withdrawn and cynical, isolating himself from others.

One day, a blight struck the village crops. The fields, once a vibrant green, turned a sickly yellow-brown, threatening the community with starvation. Fear and despair gripped the villagers. But Glas, amidst the gloom, found a strange sense of purpose.

He remembered the old herbalist, a recluse who lived on the edge of the forest. He had once scoffed at the old woman's knowledge, dismissing her as a superstitious fool. Now, desperation drove him to seek her out.

The herbalist, seeing the genuine concern in Glas's green eyes, agreed to help. She taught him about the healing properties of plants, about the delicate balance of nature. Glas, for the first time, found something that truly captivated him.

He immersed himself in the study of botany, spending hours in the forest, learning to identify different plants and their uses. He discovered a hidden talent for nurturing and cultivating, his touch bringing life back to the dying fields.

In the aftermath of the blight, the villagers saw a different side to Glas. They saw not the green of envy, but the green of healing, the life-giving force of nature. They saw dedication, not possessiveness.

Glas began to embrace his connection to the natural world. He became the village healer, his knowledge of herbs and plants invaluable to the community. Green became the color of his wisdom, the deep understanding of the interconnectedness of life.

He learned to channel his intense focus into nurturing and caring for others. The green of the forest became a source of peace, a calming presence that soothed his troubled spirit. He learned to appreciate the beauty of the natural world, finding joy in the simple act of tending to the earth.

Glas, once defined by the negative connotations of green, began to embody its positive aspects. His healing touch became a source of comfort and hope for the village. Green became the color of his generosity, his willingness to share his knowledge and skills with others. It was the color of new growth, a symbol of resilience and renewal.

He still had moments of self-doubt, but they were no longer fueled by envy. The green was no longer a symbol of bitterness, but of growth, of continuous learning and development. Glas, once feared for his green, was now revered for it. He had transformed the color of his envy into the color of healing, wisdom, and selfless service.

The blight that had ravaged his village had healed, thanks in part to Glas's burgeoning knowledge of herbalism. But a restlessness stirred within him, a sense that his learning was incomplete. The whispers of the wind carried tales of a hidden spiritual school nestled high in the Himalayas, near the sacred city of Lhasa, where the teachings revolved around the Green Gods, deities of nature, growth, and healing. He felt a pull, a sense that his path lay eastward. Leaving his grateful village with their blessings, and a small pouch of carefully dried herbs, Glas embarked on a long and arduous journey.

The journey itself was a trial. He traversed treacherous mountain passes, navigated raging rivers, and endured the biting cold of the high altitudes. The harsh landscape mirrored the challenges he had overcome within himself – the envy, the bitterness, all now replaced with a quiet strength and a deep connection to the natural world. He arrived in Lhasa, the thin air buzzing with an almost palpable energy, and found the secluded monastery nestled amongst the peaks, its walls built of the very stone of the mountains.

The school was unlike anything he had ever imagined. The monks, clad in robes of jade green, moved with a serene grace, their faces radiating an inner peace. The teachings focused on the interconnectedness of all living things, the vital energy that flowed through nature, and the power of the Green Gods to heal and nurture. Glas, with his existing knowledge of herbs and his innate connection to the earth, absorbed these teachings like parched earth drinks rain.

He excelled in his studies, his understanding of plants and their properties deepening, his empathy for all living creatures growing. He learned the ancient chants and rituals, the precise movements of energy cultivation, and the art of channeling the power of the Green Gods for healing. He discovered a particular affinity for the jade crystal, its smooth, cool touch resonating with his own energy. He carried a small piece with him always, feeling its calming influence.

Years passed, and Glas dedicated himself to his studies, his green eyes now shining with wisdom and compassion. He learned to control and channel his own energy, his touch becoming a conduit for healing. He practiced meditation, quieting the restless thoughts that had once plagued him, finding peace in the stillness. He no longer envied the talents of others, but celebrated their gifts, understanding that each being had a unique role to play in the tapestry of life.

Finally, the day of graduation arrived. The monastery courtyard was filled with students, teachers, and visiting dignitaries. The air hummed with anticipation. One by one, the students were called forth, their skills and knowledge tested. When Glas's turn came, he demonstrated not only his mastery of herbalism and energy healing, but also his deep understanding of the spiritual principles that underpinned the teachings. He spoke with eloquence and conviction, his words resonating with the audience.

The head lama, a venerable old monk with eyes like polished jade, stepped forward. He held aloft a magnificent carving of a jade owl, its wings outstretched in flight. "Glas," he announced, his voice echoing through the courtyard, "for your exceptional dedication, your profound understanding, and your unwavering commitment to the path of the Green Gods, I bestow upon you the title of Master Jade Owl."

A gasp of admiration rippled through the crowd. The Jade Owl was the highest honor the school could bestow, a symbol of mastery and wisdom. Glas, his heart filled with gratitude and humility, accepted the carving. He had come seeking knowledge, and he had found not only that, but also his true purpose. He was no longer the boy consumed by envy, but a Master, a healer, a beacon of green light in the world. His journey had taken him far from his village, but it had brought him home to himself.