The Bard

Compiled for Kyle AKA Hollow Man

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Story Teller...

Spangler Trite's gnarly hand, reach for the bone hard sinew roughly fashioned to ancient grey worn timbers of a rickety once raider proof, studded wonder of bygone time. His eye flash again from under the deep cowling of his well oiled dripping cloak at the Iron Age warrior of axe an Hammer, this would be a Saxon holding. All brawny hard working farmers no longer seeking Valhalla, but carrying on noisily on the other side of this door. Its iron worked ornate hinge and plate long gone, to be held in place with leather. A shiver run through tired old bones knowing, he soon need find this now seeking.

        Spangler carry his lute over the other shoulder and a matching knarled hand that clutch his walking crudgle, his only apparent weapon that ran small rivers of rain to soak inner sleeve. Knowing on the other side of this door the Bard, would earn his keep and breaking fast with its lodge keepers owner. Only one more of the multitudes he had travel the star paths to this place. For he knew that shortly he would go the Golden Way and approach the Aurelia Gate, the Starfields were calling home.

         Every aching bone in his body pray the boy of his dreaming be found in this one last place, for he fear he had no more in him. Not that he was a waste of an old man, no never. Spangler, held a strength that no man ever dream of. A some few Robbers along the hard pack mud road had learn their lumps, trying to the taking of the only possession he bore... his lute. A given thing and by what, he would never tell. This what he had to pass to this ragged tow head boy of simple means.

         To begin the journey. As he had!

         True to for the hefty door, swing inward as the strap lift the inner bar and the weight of the thing did its own. The blustering of interior noise wink out like a breath held and all swung, to see who approach and herald their night. A short pause as the room in unison, go back to their business. Inn Keep was already hustling his sling and wipe the muck of goose grease on disgusting apron, 'ah good a traveller!' Spangler hear his thoughts and feel a relief for funds to bare, to catch site of the Lute bag an frown. Rules of the Kings Road, acceptance reach his worn wrinkled fat and sigh, to a smile.

          “Right, you'll in the right moment for goose to be sure. Come, you'll sleep behind the bar then,” and turn back into the tavern of The Ox. Spangler follow the path of so many wanderings, carrying the songs of histories and the last latest news of relations down the mud road, come down forth. As was his eternal way, done with grace and a Kings ransom in Wisdom. Barkeep nod his skinny bitterness on the way by and Spangler, feel the stink of a rotted soul in useless flesh. “Just drop your belongings there”, motion Innkeep with a nod, “I'll be getting you a grog and finding a nice warm fire eh!” the good-man smile a hearty warmth of humanity. Spangler discard his rug sack and peel away the oiler and half soaked steaming coarse mid-wool and linen, as the Innkeep was coming back...

          To jaw gone slack.

          He'd seen the embroidered borders of a shinning white spotless smock of the finest linens, all flared at the waist and tuck to roll past leather broad belt and buckle gifted by The green eyed Lady herself O'donnahea. His Star Stone. In all folded into leathers as black as night and boots a gift from the latest Germanic King, with he knew a very short Rein to fallow his soon to be poisoning and the way of their crooked Kingdoms. He sigh, as the Innkeep belie his girth and spring to the top of the battered an battle scared long bar. To give a long great shrilling whistle and stomp, an excited noisy boot...

         A natural born performer this ox of a manly man, all ah red jiggle of face flesh, hold his hands out to the waiting stunned milling men of blunder sway to a sudden stopping in wait. “Hold ye Louts, run now you lazy Cur, gather your lovely wives and bring the children,” to let the mystery professionally hang the moment, and wink. “Tell Em... Spangler Trite hisself, has graced our hamlet!”, he'd bellow into a room that was having very air sucked out of the building charge.

         They bellow back, in booming return.“The Bard!”

         And the room, empty. As quick, as a the Innkeep's wink.

         His meal done and never had he seen such groveling and offering up the best of the Inns lofty attic rooms. For almost have to argue his way into the adamant fact, Spangler would only sleep before the story tellers fire at the hearth stone and foundation of this temple, of his telling simple folk the growing wonders of the universes. He could spin on the head of a pin and sing them, to the heavens of their hope. He adjust the lute to lean against a noble keg, sit at just the right angle to the banked fire to light the wonder of his cloak 'n' dress of The Master Bard he was and needin no show. He said a humbling prayer to his known Creation and wait the crush.

         To meet with all the knowing... he contain.

         Too soon his resting from the Mud Road was finished and not a spot of it on him, he had seen the Innkeep's wonder at an offer to clean his boots and note, they were perfect. With a simple scratch of Bald Plate... an Crown. The fair sized tavern was packed to the timbers, and all the youngsters to've scramble into rafters an fight amongst themselves for the best perceived viewing. He smile, knowing they need not have to, as he would sing pictures to each and every mind of imagination, in this hall.

          There came a hush of respected anticipation and he was about to start as the door swing open to be followed in by a tall straggler in rain soaked woollens. To wave the Innkeep who greet the lad, “come the long road have ye Strider?” “Oh aye,” he grumble about damnable lambs when he'd heard the news an come at a run. Spanglers heart skip a beat, knowing he look upon Finn McCool born again to the world a simple strapping lad and farmer with impossible hands. Spangler stroke his lute in wonder, 'will this lad master you', whispered to its graces in his mind. 'Not as well as you Master', sneak by in the dimmer shimmer. The lad took the offered stew an grog an found himself a hopeless seat on a back wall bench they squish him in between giggling maids...

       Now sure, this were Strider. Road King!

Spangler struck a chord that ring the universe and reel them into The Wheel, and sang for this lad... and all that had heart to gather understanding.

           Began...

 

 

 

 

 

                       The Gypsy Dancer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was dumb founded...

 

       It was so real, as I walk down some a forest path, it being twilight and a beautiful primal forest of huge Grandfather Cedars. Reaching into the purpling sky, the loaming smell of old forest waft through my senses. Golden beams of the last of the suns rays, filtering down to me through the canopy of grandfather cedar bows. A gentle breeze stir them and release cedar fragrance to mix in with it all. Amazed, how did I come to be on this quite large path through this dense forest.

         I try to remember where I had been coming from and couldn't for the life of me. That and why was I dressed so oddly, with coarse wool britches tucked into worn old leather boot an buckle that came almost to the knee. A baggy spun linen shirt and no jacket, though it felt to be summer and quite warm. There was the chatter of birds singing their praises to the sinking sun, like a prayer to close their eyes and have another day come to hop around hunting seed. Squirrels chattering away at me like being upset and wondering why I was invading their personal forest. I laughed at them and copy their chatter back and move along. though where exactly I was moving along to. Who, could say? To round a corner in the trail going slightly up a rise to see, more of a hill coming. I was about to set to and cover ground to get to that there hill.

          "I wouldn't be in such a hurry, if I was you"!

          This gruff voice like the bark of an old oak had stop me cold. From in the shadows of the forest to my left. I peer hard into the gloom, wondering who had offer this warning. "And why not", I'd sent back. Still trying to catch any movement, my heart beating a little wild. Maybe it was a bandit to rob me, well that would be a surprise. Knowing I had nothing in my pockets but lint... I queried, mild.

          "Who are you and why say this thing to me?"

          "Why don't you come in and find out"? Came a cackle that rise the hair on the back of my neck. "Well come on, it's not like I'm going to eat you!" Again that cackle an I thinking good time to make for that hillside an right away. "Come now I'm only a old woman   that wants company and to share her lunch with another traveller!" I stood there stupidly and wonder. I really didn't feel threatened and well. I was just then realizing that I was kind of hungry, although somewhat suspicious as it was well past lunch.

         "Please", came a final pleading lonely sounding request.

         "Alright, but I can't stay long I have places to get to". To begin to make my way past the huge trunks in the direction I'd I'd heard this voice that was like the grating of two pieces of wood together. I heard a rustling to my right and I came around the tree to a have a small bird hop past me from behind and make me jump.

To see...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Hag...

and the bird, just hop right there into her waiting hand, and begin to sing to her.

The old woman with the weird outfit and looking like she were part of that tree, to pay that sweet bird all of her concentrated attentions. It seemed to be telling her quite a lot too. She twitter to it shortly and held her hand to the sky and the bird took to flight. This wood hag turn her deep brown hazel eyes on me, and seem to just soak me right up. "Well", she giggle and her eyes light up gentle and all my fears fell away. "You are a brave one , hey!", she move over and pat the old fallen log beside her. "Yes come, come and share a meal with an old woman", to point in the direction the bird had flown off in, "Twiddlerdee will come back shortly and tell, when and where. We can come along!"

This said with an almost sly smile, to again raise suspicions of maybe trickery.

       'Come where?', imediate suspicions came to afor. I sat there with question beside her and could smell all of the forest on her, she was no hag. She was quite beautiful in her own way, like this forest. A hand like a knot pat me on the shoulder softly.

       "It is my forest, Road King!" She smile a toothless grin to miss the naming I never knew. I doubt her not a second. Yet, alas I knew her now. She was Samondra, and ask, if she were and a legend did look a little happily surprised. "Oh... you know of me, then?"

       I nod and just stare at her, in awe an wonder to then come to some reply. "A little, but then. Who doesn't. We learn this as children. The stories of the old woman of the forest", She look fair interested in what I was telling an nod, for me to continue. Well alright I went on, "You are the protector of this forest and, all the animals in it! Well, I had thought they were just stories told to children. Yet... here you are, as real as my thumb here", and in deed. Held it right up there for her to have again another interested look at that there digit, and struggle with a wriggling lute bag against my shoulder. Humming chords of impossible dementia, to already bleeding blisters of the rest of that hands fingers.

       A whispering instrument... A thing in my self, I would never truly understand and shrug.

       "Mmm ye an yah, and a good looking thumb it is too”, to give it a bit of a wiggle and turn away from me noting my blisters with a smirk saying, “well lets see, a mid-meal we shall have eh!", and dug around in the little nest she had fixed up here in her forest. To come back with her two rather large hands cupping to full and overflowing with nuts and berries from her forest. "Here, here is your share", and dump the portion into my lap and went back for more.
        Having to scramble some to save that which was heading for the ground and she laugh to see this, “no worries, what ever you miss. Twiddlerdee, will certainly find!"Well that was probably true and no longer worry about some bits that would feed her beautiful bird. All together our shared small feast was to filling a gaping grumbling hole, only that small way back the road and now just so satisfied, and lean back into a sunbeam in lazy satisfaction.

        A gruff cackle break me from a gathering slumber. “Hah, don't be getting comfortable as we are to be off now. In a blur she stood her ear leaned to the sway of the forest push of a new wind. And was off over the tumble of rotting old forest floor, calling over a shoulder. “Come now lazy bones, keep up.” Of not of my own volition but that of the Lute shrill notes I was running the forest with her as if flying through time of some between. To feel eyes everywhere and tiny tinkling laughter as Caralonda my lute whisper... Fairy Dance - out the betwixt - it seem to capture - the something - out the side of not. The lyrics accompany the cord progressions, to follow the merry tune. For them to come out in puzzling force, and fly with us. These Nodes of Harmony to tinkling silver bells of adorned tiny forms.

          “Here now the path,” Samondra called into existence and fairies wink out back to an unknown dimension, I knew of but had never realized. Till that moment. Once again we were on her ancient forests floor, to have her look to me years younger. An no longer all a wrinkle with mine eyes playing these tricks of light on me. “Twiddlerdee, is right around this corner,” laughing a softer sweet sigh, “my husband doesn't know, I know”... to wink about I know not what. “well that I knew he was building a private nest without me, of course.” Like that should be totally obvious to me as his odd looking  nest now was.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Mmm, so I see you found me,” the comical looking man sigh. “I was hoping it it wouldn't be here Samondra, now I may never get to nesting dreams!”

I watch her eyes go all cross, “what stupid old man, you afraid I'll wear you out?”, and laugh, “and I will, our forest needs many more children!” That seem to raise his eyebrows and beat up an down a rapid to c**k his head to the sky and warble and flap his arms about. I caught his heat and grin.

 

“At any rate” Samondra put hands to hips cocked at an angle of inpatients, “have you found the looking pool?” Twiddlerdee look all proud of himself and would have ruffled feathers if he had them present, “and Old Fool, was she there?” He nod and look somewhat rather embarrassed, “Oh, she is beautiful eh peeper, no feathers... no fowl! ”The Peeper grin and hop from his nest and was again a bird, flying off down some other gathering trail of sunbeam.

       Again Caralonda struck the cosmic cord and we flew between with a fleet ah fairies again in tow but now singing some chorus that swell my heart to bursting.   The ' we can come along', twas coming about and I wonder at all the talk of some beauty, and with the thought arrived. For Samondra to hold up a finger in the universal sign of 'shhh'. Whisper in my direction, “tis a looking pool and we must be careful,” her eyes painfully serious, “specially from this side.”

        We carefully wade right into the pool and keep going right on under. My mind a boggle at how could this be? There I was right under the surface looking up to a mirror surface all a wiggling ringlets spread and the most scrupulous humming of some tune, dragging my face to peer through the veil and not prepared for what I'd seen, a vision. A vision of such beauty it took my breath away, in croaking bubbles? 'Oh my GOD', screaming inside my head... 'I'm a toad?' And, I was floating their stunned, at the beauty across that pond

 

Who was this wonder that sat, at dreamers edge... of the mystics. Portal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not knowing of Eshella... yet.

      Ah what a wonderful silly daydream it was too, I thought to myself as I crest another hill and thank all that is it hadn't rained in an overly long while, or this be a sea of mud to be wading through a weighing your boots to anchors. My lute out of the satchel and I'd been making up wonder songs of Toad an Fairy anna wood nymph to boot. As a bit of wood caught my eye an I shudder through a vague something as it were getting on toward sunset shortly and the sky line would be all purpling, and me not wanting to be caught out in this haunting wood by the night. To stop and stare unbelieving and shake my head. Was that the Twiddlerdee, I'd only imagined... and I walk right up to this carving in the wood.

 

It sure look like it was so, the wooden eyes open to me and look my way. “Make the way swift Road King, for the night is upon you and over the miles they wait.”, it croak the impossible I blink and the eyes as it never was, peering right into my very soul. Yet I did take it to be some ill shamanic omen and satchel my lute and bustle of down the mud road as if demons await were behind every tree. My eyes to stray to everything but what was right in front of me, as the wood grow eerie by the mile in fading light. Glen Allen was no sissy to be jumping at shadows... but there was a different air of mystery here present at crossroads

 

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At the Far End... at Dreamers Vale in Ferns Cedar Forest

 

Meanwhile, a little further down the road. Eshella, sat her waggon an ponder her coming trials and pray to the Aurelia Way that all would go as practised, it was almost time and it was back to the main tent at the centre of the caravanfor the final preparations. There was an expectant something as she had come back from the beautiful pond from up the knoll just behind her. At some instant, it was as though to see the face of her beloved shimmer through the ripple of her dabbling finger. Her heart to skip a beat and twas gone. Still the ache of the moment was with her and why now, now when she need every bit of will to do the people's honour. That was now as Nana came and beckon a crooked elders finger out the flap of the tent and Eshella, rose and walk toward her sacred trust...

The gathering, had taken place over five days. One day for each spoke of the migratory wheel, of the Ancestor Star. Deals and Promises, were made. Marriages arranged, loans and payments trading hands. All the while, Eshella. Was secreted in a large tent, with only woman and of course. Under the guidance of Nana. Each day she was given a sacred story, to recite after... by memory. To be sure, that she held to all the proper nuances, of their Oral traditions. It worked, because Dee as she was known to her tribe still remember at least most of them and... had been reciting them to her Papa's comatose form a little every day.

      Just before she was to dance Nana shoo everyone out, this was to be only between a young girl and her Grandmother and started with how proud she was. To be granted with giving her own name for her beginning baby name and what follow... was really very deep, touching and special. To wipe a tear away and tell her, that it was an appropriate naming for the Deanne that would come after this night. Was a grand name, a name that came down from the stars and, the choosing of this name. Had taken three years... to be totally agreed upon, within the relational Extended Caravan.

        Dee not knowing then, this had gone all the way back to the Old Country's family extensions. So even now, she was told there were representatives here at this very gathering, and why. Nana had worked so hard, for her little wonder to get it 'just so'! These people, would migrate back and tell all the families there, this wonderful story of this precious day. So Nana's name was like her, in her comparison to the DeAnne to come. Nana was yet a baby, and this her little daughter was the Elder. Eshella, cried to hear this and wouldn't accept it. Nana, dried her eyes to say, 'none the less... this is true, my precious child'! The elder Eshella quit the tent, her voice cracking with emotion in saying it.  To send her Mother in to her, who came to lend confidence and help her dress.

         It was the first time that Dee had got to see her sacred costume, with it's chiffon purple skirt in eight folded sections and three one inch bands of tightly embroidered patterns of stars in-between. The first dressing seeming strange... as she worn no under things, but a winding of a long length of red silk. Her quite baggy gauzy blouse, a pure white with an embroidered neck line, same patterns as the bands on her skirt, they tuck her blouse in just a certain way in the meticulous wrap around of that beautiful skirt. Lastly to dress her with tied scarves of tiny bells at her elbows and just above the knee. Elated, she slip on black ballerina type dance slippers and was to wear a thick wide black leather belt, with sixteen studded stars. Around her waist. Another older woman, came to weave garlands into her hair and stands, of sparkling beads. Both her and her Mother. Brought out the sacred bead work, and DeAnna's. Wondrous glimmering mythical jewelry. All of which, she wore off and on... ever since. Ancient pieces, she love individually. Each, having their own character. Dee twirl her favorite ring, on her left middle finger as she'd thought this and the memory, of her donning. That beautiful costume, watering her eyes at how wonderful it had then made her feel.

        When they'd finished, Mother had told her she had never seen a woman, so beautiful. Any woman, no matter what age if given the name DeAnne. Was that day. A woman. The pathfinder of her Caravan. To know the stars in her heart, and the Elders. Never to be lost, as they travel the star paths home, to Aurelia's Gate. Eshella had study this stranger, in a full length mirror and never having seen one, outside of anywhere. The vision of this traditional elegance, took her breath away.

For this night, as she dance. She would be DeAnna... their, Sacred Deity!

The deity, she'd seen in that mirror. 'Was herself?'

This the night it was to take place. Never had she felt it in this way, like a foretelling of an answer for her questions of the true... Gypsy Dancer. This deity that lived, veiled in her virgin innocence. Again feeling the little girl and not the fifteen days of the seasons turn today she was to be on this her birthing hour, was to dance, and. Who for the past three hours. Hearing so much more increased activity out in the main gathering circle of true waggons, outside of her tent. Heard, or course the ever present violins, tambourine and masterful guitars of their own making none others but gypsies owned. Castanets from men and women dancers too, with their tiny jingling bells they prettily wore. Behind her in the corral the beautiful Vanner Gypsy Horses, that pull them to fairs and what have you to the tinker towns where they were unwanted but used for the repairs they offer for meat down the road for children. They throw their manes and tamp in time to thunder the very ground, beneath them adding their excitement, to this wondrous sacred music played for only this occasion.

       Some of which, she almost felt cheated that she be not allowed to go out there and watch their wonderful performances. Till she learn, that all who had played for those five days were a dedication to her, awaiting to live to witness this performance and to felt guilty for it even having been mentioned.

        With this now, so different feel enfolding her very being. Eshella, went back to studying this mystic persona in the mirror and count through some of her dance steps. It feeling wrong... mechanical, to close her eyes and lost her self. For a seeming short moment like a pause, that stop time. To dance the flow. Eshella felt in the throbbing pulse of her heart... a touch light. As a feather touch upon her brow, like an imagined kiss and a whorling wheel of wonder flash through...

 

In all its glory.

 

 

Before now unbelieving eyes, seeming to spread out from her like a veil and fill that mirror, with unimaginable hue an tone. So dazzling was this overwhelming presence, to stop her. Dead in her tracks to gape with stupefaction, its dissipation and fade Both her hairdresser jeweller and her Mother, were staring at her with shock and mystification plainly written on their faces... and fell, to their knees.

Abladonna seeking

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Road King

 

Once before had O'donnahea appear to Finn many times in his other life as Abladonna. Then a turn away had found him again in dream. The construct of his aching inside smile at his attempt to kiss a spirit such as she was, a True Child of the Abode. This impossibly young thunder, striving to contain eternity and had come very close to earning it. As the friction of his desire, had almost stop his heart beating in his chest. As none would dare to kiss The Lady of the Lake...

Though Merlin... did once try.

 

Morassta the thief, here and now another of the earthly forms she moved with. Now if he tried kissing her, she could teach the lad a thing or two, or just as quick. Cut out his heart! They did not call her in the Streets of Burden 'The Quick' for aught but her lightening reflex and a foot of deadly steel, again that thought. Gave the Goddess an inner laugh, to remember. Their last meeting... “I'm to bring you in!”, said this haughty brat, nothing like his dream had almost hiss in his face.

       Glen Allen's hackles rose, “oh, and just where are, you. To bring, Road King too?”

       The spectre bark a laugh, “Road King, is it! You look the popper to me. Yet it is you, and you carry the Lute. That sings to my dreams.” Her voice soften and Glen try to see under and into her eyes, she shy some. Then stiffen and stare right into his soul, they were a steely grey silver blue with a ring of stars. “Why is it that I seem to know you, even if you are a pompous fool!”, spit upon him as she turn and start off down the mud road. Call over and icy shoulder, “well come then, or... you'll miss it!”

       He wipe the spittle off his home spun shift an wonder what he'd done to deserve such insolence, and remember the carving at roadside had said that he was awaited on. This whole day of separate time and not even knowing how he had arrive this road and all the jargon of the jibber jabbers since was mind boggling. “Alright then ghost, lead on!” he taunt.

       She spun and in a blur was right there. The tickle of a sharp pointed blade dance about his throat, “I be no ghost and never say such a fay thing to 'The Quick', or you idiot man. Will be a ghost!”

       He'd not back down and just as fast, she look with shock as her arm bent and Glen was dancing her blade from hand to hand, wondering how he'd done that? “So, The Quick is it?” he leer. And was slamming into the road way on his back and the knife back to his throat. Her laughter warm in his face, a smile genuine and different as night and day.

       “Well, Road King. For that trick of fate, you may call me Morassta.”, and offer up a hand from his embarrassment that this wee bit of wisp had just so quickly trashed him to dirt. Yes, 'The Quick' she was that. “Enough of the stupidity an aye, we need travel now eh.” She spun with a spring in her step and a laugh, “none has ever took my blade away before... I just may kiss you for that miracle!” Glen shudder and could envision hisself, a running the mud road... on fire.

        It went easier from there, only not the seeing more then ten steps ahead in the murky darkness. Yet this wraith did turn into a fair jabber, to explain her long dream and seeking the lute he carry. It was many long roads other than this she'd travel so far away from the streets of burden, she'd called it. To have travelled with a Gypsy band for the last turn of season as one of their adopted band. Well, because she was an excellent thief, she inform him without a bat of the eye. To tell him that Nana had sent her out seeking him. To shiver as she tell how when she heard of the boy and the lute. Her dream had found its crossroads. The boy part rather bother Glen though and almost say so an stop hisself.

       No, it was better to keep this one moving toward respect and maybe friendship.

       Thinking he may just try the kissing her part again... somewhere down a very long road. As it turn out the way ahead had not been that far as he could see a glowing against the sky, that read a lot of open camp fire. More than maybe he had ever seen in his short life from his nowhere hamlet. Morrasta's voice and a rough nudge broke throgh his thoughts. 

       “You are a very lucky sort my friend”, she said breaking into a now almost trot.

       "Why's that ," he responded. A real deal that, as he never seen himself lucky at anything, except maybe horses. Strider thought twice about that, as he had won almost every year on Uncles star stallion Allester.

       “Nana is the Grand Mother of all Gypsies and she sent for you.”, to give him a true glare.

       They top the rise and the wonder of this gathering caravan took his breath away. He'd seen his fair share of tinker waggons go through. This stopped Glen right in his tracks.

       Morassta stood beside and agree with a nod, “you'll never see another like this again your life time either.”, said over another cold shoulder? Off they they travel down into the small valley of wonder. Apparently there was time to eat a hardy welcome meal as Nana herself escort him to the communal stew kettle, and garner not a few stares of wonder from the gypsy side of things. This was a grand dame, her barring only rock solid.

 

O'donnahea, drift over from out of her construct and watch from the Between, as the wheel was spinning in a fury. She had so enjoyed this interplay, knowing the heart ache this all would cause as she had already view the thread and its echo could travel down so many strands of fate. Only pray the right one and left them to fate, to go...

 

 

Above & Beyond

 

Out and into a ring of Gypsy caravans assembled in such numbers, the Strider curiosity in me felt a pull and not put my finger to it. Feeling I need to walk in the direction of the largest centre tent where all the music was being performed with hypnotic effect. The weirdness was before I'd been gifted with the Lute by the mystery that would always remain Spangler Trite, I had never care one way of the other for music. Couldn't have carry a tune to the barn, now this Lute was crawling right into my brain. I was thinking these things as Morassta leavings caught my wandering attentions as she slide off into a gloom between waggons and disappear. To shrug and wonder if I would run into her later in the night, the kissing her idea was growing on me. Only one way to find out if that was a truly dangerous idea...

       Try for one!

       Coralonda, was humming chords to tapping fingers against a pant leg and this was no longer an irritation as it had been. Even getting used to the whisper of talking with her? Another realization arrive as I stood as close to the waves of energy coming from that ornate tent as was possible. As it was obviously guarded by a group of very proficient looking well armed Gypsies, both men and women, who were keeping again an obvious eye on my intentional movements. For a time Coralonda dragged my attention into the latest round of ecstasy, so alive and vibrating through me. I joined in with the whirling dancing and let the world spin. At the end of the energetic reel, The Nana was walking to me and grin, to only stand beside and clap her hands to the new tune.

 

       The energy of Eshellas vision, was still a whirl through the tent, all her preparations were finished and she could only now nervously wait for grandmothers call, to engage what was a gruelling discipline. She had wanted to ask her Mother about what they had seen to provoke such a response of reverent tears, that had so took her breath away but they had almost immediately left her to herself. It was building these waves of energy that came from the engagement to The Home Star's pulse, the pathways she could see revolve through her consciousness and all syncopated to The Dance of Ancestral Memory. Knowing that her birthing was now heart beats away, the training that had explain to her it was like a moth to cocoon and emerge a butterfly, Eshella would metamorphosis and emerge. 

        DeAnne.

        Pathfinder, Gypsy Dancer of the Aurelea Way...

        The thought was like an explosion and being struck by a physical force of the star fields, a burning that was all encompassing like to stand in the centre of the sun. All that she could see, white out. In a flash of blinding brilliance, her body one total sensitivity to the beat of the music flowing through her. Her mated Vanners she could feel as a part of her heart, stomp the ground in time with all the others. It was all in time with her. The rhyme of the Universe had arrived. Yes it was now, the exact time of her coming to this world and could see her starfall trail to the bonding of this soul that would grow into Eshella. From the centre of her being it was rearranging, aligning, grounding her feet to The Earth. To have a thirst for all the tears ever shed and quench that pain, or absorb that joy. The Fire burned through her it was time and DeAnna. Walk slowly, toward the door... her entrance.

         To this life, again.

        I'd not seen the old woman leave my side, yet her voice came into my mind. 'Now Boy, you are in for an awakening'! I look up to seek her out and Nana was directly across sat in an Honour seating arrangement of Elders, with a shawl of the most amazing designs wrapped about her. She nod an wink and her attentions, went toward the entrance of the tent. I follow her gaze to see a pulsing multi-hued glow, and all eyes were upon it. The music picking up tempo, all the dancers about the roaring fire had melted back into the waiting anticipation, the very air was crackling with the sparks popping from the fire and soaring into the dark night and off to stars ebb an flow. As if to deliver the offerings of all these gathered, the old woman was right, my pulse of heart was matching that of the moving glow inside the tent and its flaps being pulled aside by one man and one woman guard on either side.

         Like a moment of a breath held and the most beautiful creature spun from that portal, with my mind reeling and Caralonda singing into my consciousness, a constant unheard as yet pitch. The girl was slight and graceful as she whirl and drift to the rhythms and beat her tambourine in perfect time. As was this dance so precise and measure so effortlessly as this wonder of sacredness, as there was no other word for it, breath in the Stars. My eyes could go no where else, my heart felt it would leap from very breast. There could be no other in this life could I love such as this young girl that had already stolen my heart so utterly. Not knowing how, yet I knew she was fifteen turns of the full seasons and solstices. This day her celebration of being born to our Earthly plain, yet this now. The moment, of her birth.

       The flicker of the flames of the sacred fire...

        Beckoned

        This would be some of the Gypsy magic, slight of hand and the building to the garnered effects desired. This circle being erected round a large flat top rock, and the great fire built round that. Not all of it had been explained to Eshella, she only held to her faith and wheel to the proffered spot to dance through the sacred brook that would wet her specially made dance shoes. A helper in three steps to pass her the star cloak pulled from itself too from the standing pool all a glitter. A two count and Eshella tighten her body in the following step, and leap. with the cloak trailing... into the embrace of flames atop the standing stone.

        Wrap the cloak about her at a kneel, and. Count...

 

        'My god', I could not believe what I was witnessing as all there was a long drawing in of breath and eyes searching about. The dancer unbelievably had leapt gracefully right into the roar of  the huge centre fire, I was instantly angry and wonder that I had been brought here to witness some human sacrifice? 'Would no one stop this.' was screamed into my mind. To feel my whole body tense, well I would and was about to spring forth and run into the flames after my beloved I could not lose, not now after seeing her in my vision as a toad make delicate ripples into the Dreamers Portal. This would not be her last day on Earth, just as I was about to brave the hero. A voice of ultimate authority boom but one word, into my consciousness. 'STAND'! To freeze me to the spot...

 

 

         To be thinking this be trickery, was wrong. As the girl Eshella, was burnt away. DeAnne was struck by Stars that burst forth from her Supra Consciousness as she spun them, out into the forming nebulae and left her cape and went zipping up and out above the flames and burst into the night sky with their brilliant display with thunder claps of explosions that rocked the very Earth at its foundations. Deanne from that kneel sprung straight up and feel none of that generated heat, to let fly the cape and it soar with the up-draft of licking flames. Caught fire and soar upward to join in the display of colour that filled the sky, with an impossible flaming Dragon. That hover above the all. That were shook down to humility. She came down again atop the foundation stone to the grounding that set her into Firma and leap out of the flames, as if to rise out from the very flames of that Fire. Her long multi-coloured streamers, like the licking flames follow her every move. Felt her be-Jewelled long thick jet black hair, spin down those stars and lay them aglow, at these watchers feet. Her tambourine, beat in time with the floating rhythms. To leap and fly with eminent grace, over the fires flaring flame again. A sensitivity.

That dare not, touch... DeAnna. The Gypsy Dancer! Aurelia's promise!

Who heard not at all, the Oo's an Ah's as the history of the people was sang, reverently past her lips. Seeing, in her minds eye the joy of the Ancestors memories, remembered. Honouring their living, with true Gypsy Honour. Their turn of the wheel, loved and never lost. Carried. Now that their deity DeAnna dance, The Star Field Home. The universe above them spun, in all its wonder and mysterious seasons... fire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

        Of a sudden, like magic. A wonder of a gypsy girl rose out of the flames of that centre fire. Like the Phoenix... her outfitting so radically gypsy and her beauty, incomparable. She being fifteen turns of season, and I don't know how yet I knew this. But this her birthday, this the moment of her birth. My heart, was going to jump right out of my chest. As she begin her dance and, all there singing this song of worship. For this impossibly young girl...

       From the dreamers pool.

      At some point, I had lost myself to her wonder, and as this mystical creature leap across the flames of this impossible huge, cracking sparks to the universe. Fire the explosions in my mind to be filled with a knowing of agelessness, I was like a wheel as she was. She was my beloved, the other half my heart the twining with there and burning through my chest, her light pulling me into to a whirl wind and at its very centre her very pattern call to me through the ancient veil to the man.

        Hidden there.

        Time, for me froze as right there in mid leap her face aglow with the flame of life, had turn to me an I was captured. In her eyes. Could see, my reflection there prisoner to their charm. She smile, and wink brazenly at me? The old gypsy woman, behind her the same?

An oh yah, had wink right at me. This child of the Universe, and old as the stars that shine.

Her voice in my mind, saying. 'Watch now, I will spin down the Stars. Fer ye... Road King!'

My world, was spun...I watch, as she dance and weave the breath taking star patterns. With the most intricate, of hands. So delicate, tiny strength her eyes never left me.

 

This dance was for me?

 

'Yes... she is, the Gypsy Dancer. The Deity Diana.

She weaves the Golden Road Home.

To the Aurelia Gate for us

and we have invited you...

To witness this Gypsy sacred dance. Road King!'

Never, could I believe the honour of this. None... to have ever seen this outside of The Gypsy Way the Elder had said. The Gypsy Dancer: began to Dance the Star field into impossible pin wheels and move, the universe to her Dance... the Love of Her People.

 

Their eternal Pathfinder. A Sacred Roma Deity, who dance the stars to the ground.

        Just for me.

 

 

This Gypsy Dancer

 

She whisper, to me of her love.

and I disappear. Into the dawns of eternal ache.

For the Home hearth, and stone.

I'd never own, and the years that follow.

Alone...

Among the Stars.

 

As a Bard.

Author's Note

As of this morning I wrote this compiled excerpt, adding on to 'Destinies Children' as a message to a potential Collaboration. To off the cuff last night, write a familiar character Spangler Trite... 'The Bard.' For Hollow Man. A Writer Poet / Brother.

As an example of a period short, that other writers could use this Cosmology and create shorts to send to me and on to our Romonx continuity Editor... Join if you like and if accepted your short. The writer may join our writers circle, will recieve Destinies Childrens Cosmology, on going bibliography and termonology index.

Write On / Right On! Romom. Peace

Reviews

[Ruth]

Amazing! I am speechless love! Truly!
The art does add to the writing, beautiful imagery that you have chosen :)
Everything you could have encased here is here! lol
The stunning woven web of the mystical, the splendour of ancient ways, the touching dance of the nature with in all:)
I am absolutely rendered numb!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In a great way!
You my love, are awesome!
xx

[K. D. Kromminga]

Rory I hope you're not hacked off at me for failing to look at your work earlier. It was not long after I first came to this site that I discovered a former co-author of mine had posted our collaborative effort to this same site and others claiming it was solely his work.

Your character concepts and cosmology are fascinating in this compiled excerpt. From the highly evolved poetic nature of the prose I would be interested in seeing how it develops in the future. Hope you are still working on this friend.

[SM Davis]

Rory, your imagery here is impeccable. You took me back...to a place I've enjoyed many times, but not more than this. Thank you Rory. Enjoyable indeed.

[Daniel Gardner]

This was too good. And I meant that. The imagery and pictures with a solid story made this epic. Great job my friend.

[Pax Analog]

Extraordinary Olde Tale, rumbling across the landscape of myth. Gorgeous accompanying images. The Gypsy Dancer is the axis of all -- perhaps all tales.

This meaty mythos you've conjured recalls the layers of the human psyche, the bardic echoes.

"This Gypsy Dancer/She whisper, to me of her love./and I disappear. Into the dawns of eternal ache./For the Home hearth, and stone./I'd never own, and the years that follow./Alone.../Among the Stars./As a Bard."

Those closing lines speak volumes for ANY mode of storytelling/poetics. "The world moves on a woman's hips" -- David Byrne.

[EMP]

i'm lost for words... this is unbelievably good! i love how you've managed to grip me from the first line. not many stories/novels can do this but this one definitely did. astounding. very, very well done!

[Hollow Man]

I've read this three times through now, and am entranced and stunned by its beauty. It's an honor to call you a friend. Expect a response soon

KGS

[Cafe Reader]

Astonishing writing!

[Linear]

I cannot do this any justice, for in words you astound, and transfix

Would but i could, the pictures enhance, to unfold the thought, you excell in realms that i myself fear to wander.

you need nothing from me sir as you are a poet to my puppetry

[Coyote Poetry]

A amazing story and pictures. The artwork made the story come alive. The story got stronger and better as you added information and new character. I like the mix of nature, myths and real people. A outstanding read. I do appreciate.
Coyote