Drogo's Odyssey: Uncovering the Future of Education

The first light of dawn broke over the horizon, and a young man ran through the forest. His cloak was gone, his boots torn, and his tunic ripped. The young man’s bare feet slapped against leaves as he ran, and sweat dripped down his face. His body was exhausted from running for hours through the night, but he could not stop.

The worst of the night was over. A dozen times, his pursuers had been so close that he could hear their harsh breathing in the darkness behind him. Their torches passed in front of him briefly on several occasions. Each time he heard them, he pushed forward harder, dashing through thickets and over fallen logs in an attempt to lose them. The forest was dark and dangerous at night, but it would be worse to lie in wait for them with only a dagger for protection.

His mind drifted back to earlier in the day when he learned of the danger that threatened his life and his mission. He had traveled many leagues across Gaul to reach this place, this village that was known as a haven for those who followed Mithras. It was here that he hoped to find help in his quest; the quest to save education in the future.

The villagers had welcomed him with open arms when he arrived several weeks ago. Their love of knowledge matched his own and they found kinship in each other immediately. They taught him their rituals and traditions while he shared stories of his homeland far away to the east. He spoke of Paris-of-the-West where grand buildings were constructed with pillars that reached high into the sky and where scholars gathered from across all Gaul to study philosophy, mathematics, literature and science under the tutelage of Aristotle himself. The villagers were bright people who encouraged him to speak freely about what he knew, but when he told them about Aristotle they were instantly outraged and shocked by such “blasphemy”.

They told him that knowledge came from Mithras alone; that Aristotle was one of many false gods who tried to steal knowledge from Mithras. They were so vehement about it that they stopped speaking to him altogether until finally one night when they begged him to leave their village immediately before they all died at the hands of those who hated their knowledge so much. He pleaded with them to tell him what they meant, but after a few hours they gave up on convincing him and explained that if he left during the night it might buy some time for them all; just enough time perhaps for them to escape while their attackers thought they were still hiding within their walls.

He had left that very night without even packing his meager belongings or saying goodbye after learning why they wanted him gone so badly. Their warning haunted him as he fled deeper into nearby forest where he remained hidden until morning when he began his long journey home. He did not get far however before being set upon by a group of men on horseback who recognized him as an outsider by his clothing and hair style which had grown long during his travels abroad in Gaul. They were armed with swords and torches and looked beyond angry as they shouted threats at him while riding alongside him as he continued to run for his life through the woods now shrouded in early morning darkness*