Gate: The Moon
I stepped through the vision gate and was standing on a shining path under the moon that led between the trees of a dark forest. A wolf mournfully howled as I took my first steps down the path, making my way between the trees towards an unknown destination.
Suddenly, a little ways ahead on the path, an elvish figure dressed in a silvery cloak and hunting gear was on his hands and knees in a puddle filled with moonlight. He splashed frantically through the water again and again as if he had lost something. I ran to this spirit and knelt beside him in his distress.
“What are you seeking, friend?” I said. “Perhaps I could be of assistance to you, I have some small talent at finding lost things.”
“I know that voice,” said the spirit and when he turned my direction I recognized the elf king Oberon. Where he should have had pupils, the elf had two full moons shining from his eyes. “Heidi, welcome back to my world,” he said. “I felt a presence from the skies calling me from this water but I can’t see her to interpret her message. Do you see what I cannot? Do you hear the call too?”
“Oberon, the moon is shining in your eyes so brightly that I couldn’t help but hear the call,” I said. “It has caused some temporary blindness. We will remedy this somehow. Do not fear.” I raised the elf to his feet and cupped some of the moonlit water in my palm. With two fingers, I smeared the water on his closed eyelids. “I once pulled down the moon so that you could travel the Inner Worlds once more with the ease you knew in the time before,” I whispered as I tended to his eyes. “I call it again to restore your sight to you tonight. Hear me, Lords of this world, and please heal Oberon’s eyes. Creator of All, hear my plea and have mercy.”
Oberon gave three long blinks and the reflection of the moon cleared from his eyes so he could see once again. “You’ve done it! Whatever god listens to you is a quick panacea. Thank you!” he exclaimed. “I wonder how long I was floundering upon this path. No matter, back to work. There’s no time to waste in idle chitchat.” The elf reached into his cloak and pulled forth a flask made of thick glass. He filled it with water from the puddle, returned the flask to a pocket within his cloak, and began to walk away at a brisk pace.
“Wait, Oberon,” I called and followed in his footsteps like a shadow. “How did you find yourself in such a state in the first place?”
“Oh, it was silly,” he replied. “I gazed too long upon the sky’s face in the puddle so that the one who called me imprinted in my eyes. If I had traveled the worlds more regularly, I would have remembered to look away from time to time. I will not make that mistake again.”
We moved together through a dense wood beside the path, batting branches and leaves out of our way. After a short walk, we arrived at Oberon’s home, a well-appointed cave that sits next to a swiftly flowing river. We entered and Oberon moved to the middle of his house where the moon shines perpetually down upon a deep pool of water.
The elf had replaced the heavy wood covering that concealed the pool with a circular lid made of glass. Now even when the pool was covered, the moon was able to shine down upon the water. He raised the glass lid and brought the flask containing the puddle’s enchanted water out of his cloak.
“To know a power is to know their name,” he chanted softly, decanting the water into his pool. “To know their name is to know their essence. I call you now, Lady of the Moon, bright shining light in the darkness and gloom. I summon you forth, beautiful being of the sky, to answer our questions, our wonderings, our whys.”
Oberon stepped back from the pool as mist and moonlight began to bubble from its surface in a circular, spinning vortex.
“I call you,” he whispered, kneeling now. “Mother.”
A goddess made of silver light stepped from the pool into the cave. Moonlight streamed from her long hair and gown, filling the space. The ceiling of Oberon’s home was carved and painted with stars so that in the light of the moon they twinkled down upon us, alight with energy.
“Rise, my dear son,” the goddess said and kissed his forehead as he did so. “I bid you know it grieved me when you became moon blind. You must promise not to gaze so deeply at the skies in the future.”
“Mother,” he replied. “I could hear someone calling to me and I’m sorry for my unbridled enthusiasm. But see, I have brought the one who cured me, twice now, to stand in your exalted presence. Her name is Heidi and she is from another world.”
The beaming goddess turned to me. “I have you to thank for returning my son to his glory,” the Moon said. “My blessings upon you, traveler and healer.”
“I asked the ruling powers to heal your son,” I said, bowing my head before the goddess. “They healed him through me. I simply offered him a comforting presence in his time of trial.”
“Whatever you did, it was effective and appreciated. In addition to my blessing, I will offer you some of my ancient wisdom and secret knowledge. I have taught my son the art of stargazing and fortune telling,” said the lady. “What shall I teach you? The same?”
“Your son has the benefit of years of your attention and instruction,” I replied. “I am afraid such a complicated subject could not be mastered in the time we are given together though I confess such topics interest me greatly.”
The goddess nodded her head solemnly. “Despite our time constraints, it could be taught,” the Moon said. “How about instead of instruction I give you a gift, the love story of my genesis.”
“Nothing would please me more,” I said. “I learn so much from the stories and lived experiences of those I meet on the paths.”
“Then attend my words, Heidi,” she replied and waved her arm. A miniature version of earth and the moon appeared before my wondering eyes. “My name is Levannah and I will tell you a tale of long ago, when I met the father of Oberon, one named Helios.”
I gazed at the moon spinning around the earth and was hypnotized by the motion. I began to see pictures upon its face like screen from a projection and the goddess spoke these words:
“When I was quite young, I became lonely in the night sky. So once a fortnight, the stars and I would gather in the darkness for a tea party. But this was no ordinary tea as it was brewed from plants that only bloomed at night.“
Young spirits made of light with stars sparkling in their hair, gathered around a long, shining table in the sky. They giggled and sang to each other while sipping steaming drinks from delicate-looking tea cups. Levannah sat at the head of this table and smiled serenely at the gathered assembly.
“I had learned the art of reading the tea leaves from my mother, one of the Fates, and taught this skill to my friends the stars. In time, we all became quite skilled at it. Usually after we finished our tea, we would read each other our fortunes in the leaves that remained at the bottom of the cups. But one night long ago, something peculiar and unexpected happened.“
The star spirits finished their tea and looked into the cups. A collective gasp went around the table and they began to compare their results to each other.
“That night in a strange twist of fortune, we all had the same shape in the bottom of our cups, a falling star with a trail of dust as her cloak. My companions were dismayed because they believed this foretold the death of one of our cherished company. She, whoever she was, was going to burst out of her orbit in an explosion of light and then crash to earth to become something else. My maidens left early that evening because each was afraid this was her fate and she wished to enjoy one last night in the sky, twirling and dancing with one another in perpetual splendor and grace.“
With small explosions of light, the stars disappeared from around the table. Soon Levannah was sitting alone, gazing into her cup with a troubled expression creasing her brow.
“I alone was not convinced this was a token of death or a sentence of impending doom. I believed it was a sign of life, a new life that was soon to come and the fulfillment of a destiny long promised and perhaps forgotten.“
Suddenly, there was a noise from the void of the sky outside of the sanctuary with the long, empty table.
“I was pulled from my reflections by a cry in the night as surely as a moth to a flame.“
A bright, flaming light appeared in the nothingness of space. Levannah stood from her appointed place at the table and moved swiftly towards it, her light trailing behind her like an extension of her garments.
“I soon discovered the source of the sound that called me so compellingly. He was a baby, alone and swaddled in a blanket that flamed and exuded tremendous amounts of energy. The infant wailed and flailed his arms about himself in distress. I picked up the child and held him close to me, whispering endearments to calm him and soothe his frantic cries. My hands and forearms were burned by his energy and flames but I did not care, such was my concern for this lost child of the skies.“
“Who would leave a beautiful spirit like you unattended?” Levannah whispered. “If you were mine, I never could nor would I allow it.”
Suddenly, the baby grew very heavy. Within the space of three heartbeats, he grew, lengthened, and changed form from an infant to a toddler then a child and I quite abruptly found my arms wrapped around the neck of a young god who was made entirely of flame and ceaseless energy.
“This is the most pleasant awakening I have ever experienced,” said the god with a blinding smile.
“Pardon me, sir,” said Levannah, drawing away in embarrassment. “I thought you were a helpless babe.”
“Thus I was,” he said, growing steadily more mature as he stood. “And thus I will be again. I am born each day and die then return to share my light and energy with those who walk upon the surface of the earth. I am the sun of this world. Who are you, shining goddess of the night skies?”
“I am the moon,” Levannah said, continuing to back away from the god’s light and heat. “I move through the skies to a rhythm dictated by the one who put existence itself in motion. I am friend to the stars as well as other spirits who dwell in the highest heavens. I never walk alone because they care for me as if I am one of their own.”
“This world has no moon,” said the god. “I would have met you before on one of my many treks through the sky.”
“Just because we have not met, does not mean I do not exist,” Levannah said. “Have you a name?”
“I am called Helios,” said the god as he bowed formally, growing older and beginning to bend with age as his time began to set. “Your name, goddess? I must know it so that I may find you again.”
“Speak the name Levannah to draw my attention,” she said and curtsied back. “Those who gaze up at the night sky named me thus.”
“I am so pleased to make your acquaintance,” the Sun whispered in lips now cracked and dried with old age. “Levannah…”
“The god smiled one last time and then disintegrated. The pattern his dust left behind was the same shape that had been in the night sky’s tea cups. After that first night, I did not touch the god again because I found from that one initial embrace, his flames had burnt and scarred my hands. The moon, my reflection in reality, now had craters and shadows where I had once been flawless and perfect. Despite this unintended injury, I was intrigued by the fiery god and came again to the same place the next night and the night after and the night after that. Each time Helios appeared as a babe then aged, then died. Our conversations were by necessity brief but I cherished every word.“
“The third night we met, I asked him about this process, the alchemy of his existence.“
“Where do you go each night, Helios?” Levannah asked. “The stars do not speak your name nor reveal where you dwell. I asked, you see, because I wish to know more of your mysterious nature which seems so different to my own.”
“I go where all as I am in the universe go,” he said. “The realm of primal energy and light. I dwell in its essence and then come back refreshed each day to shine again.” He moved closer but stopped without touching me. “Where do you go each night, Levannah?”
“I do not go anywhere,” Levannah replied. “I either turn my face towards the earth or towards the sky and my friends the stars. It is more of a dance than a death, a cycle than a change of station. I am curious as to this other world that you speak of. Do you think that I could see it?”
“Anything is possible,” said Helios. “But I do not want to injure you with my presence nor my home world. Perhaps if I wrap you in my cloak then you might travel that secret gateway with me, but not be burned by the journey.”
“As the sun god quickly aged as he always did, he threw forth his cloak and captured me in its folds. Thus, the moon was eclipsed by the sun for the first time. My sight was filled with darkness, but then a light such as I had never known burst upon my vision. My companion shone as he usually did with vigor and warmth, but in this other realm he did not swiftly change as on the earthly plane. He was a god of my age, constant and steady in his emanation.“
“In this other world, I was also filled with the light of the sun and shone brighter and more strongly than I ever had before through the power that filled me in his presence.“
“Also in this other realm, my friends the stars suddenly appeared in the form of energy-filled beings just like the god who had so enthralled me. They ran to the Sun and I and took our hands, dancing in circles in the meadows and glades of their world. We frolicked and laughed beneath the flaming, changeless sky. We wove garlands for our necks and hair made of bright flowers that shone with their own special light. We made merry with drinks like liquid flames and food that cooked itself. And there, in the other realm where his energy did not injure me so grievously, Helios and I conceived Oberon beneath its ageless sky.“
“Sooner than I would have liked, it was time to return to the world I knew. Helios wrapped me in his cloak and we returned together, he as a babe in my arms and I as myself. I watched him age as usual, then he faded from my reality and was gone. That night, after the experience of the realm of the Sun, I wept the first tears of my existence because until then I did not know what it was to miss a loved one or wish to be different than I was. I wanted to be an eternal light of his world like the other stars and have remained the same ever since.“
The miniature moon and sun stopped spinning around each other and I found myself coming out of the trance that had wrapped me in its embrace throughout the goddess’ recitation.
“I wept so many tears over the years that my son’s pool was filled with my sorrow,” Levannah said. “Since that time, Helios and I have eclipsed each other countless times and we have given many numbers of our children to this world. Oberon,” she gestured at the elf king. “Is the eldest of these children, forces of nature and beings of the sun and moon. I love them and they love me. They are a wonderful consolation for the time in between realms and those who dry my endless tears. They are my reason for being and the living reflections of the love I bear for Helios.”
Levannah turned her face from me towards her son and her countenance grew bright as she gazed upon him. “My Star Gazer, Oberon, my dear son, you must learn as I did moderation in your admiration of energies that are different from your own. As I was burnt the first time I touched your father, so too were your eyes blinded by the power of the one who has awakened from a long sleep. Promise me, you will remember this lesson, moderation in all things, especially when ruminating on the night sky and the beings who dwell in the highest heavens.”
The goddess’ voice echoed around the cave as her light grew in power and strength, and she exploded outwards like a shooting star. The night sky depicted in Oberon’s ceiling twinkled with her essence as she dispersed her energy into the cave and began to drift back into the moonlit pool which I now knew was filled with her tears.
“Mother,” said the elf king. “You have my word and sacred promise to practice moderation as I walk in your exalted footsteps through the dance that is called existence. May we all learn from your suffering and be spared the repetition of it.” Oberon refilled his glass flask from the waters of the Moon’s tears. Then he waited until all of his mother’s light had faded from the cave and we sat in silence by the still, quiet pool. Then pulled by a power from the sky, we began to float together up through the opening in the ceiling where the moon shone down upon the pool and out of Oberon’s home.
“Where do we go now?” I asked as we moved through the skies above the elf king’s woodland realm. “Levannah’s experience is one of the most tragic I have yet heard. Why are such things allowed to happen in the name of love?”
“I do not know the answer to your question, Heidi,” Oberon said. “But I will consult the stars and see if they have any answers to the mystery that is love. In the meantime, I shall seek moderation as I promised.” Oberon and I descended from the sky to walk beneath the trees and speak with those who dwelled there. But suddenly with a sound like thunder, a group of elves on horses galloped out of the trees.
“My King,” said their leader, sliding off his horse to kneel on the ground. “You must come immediately. The Queen was dancing beneath the moonlight and was stung by a giant scorpion that was drawn to her light. She suffers horribly and we have been unable to banish the creature to the abyss it emerged from.”
“Lead the way,” Oberon commanded. “None shall menace my Titania.” We leapt on the horses and thundered away into the night, soon reaching the moonlit road where our journey had begun. To the left of the path the elven Queen lay on the ground, pale and grimacing in pain as her ladies attended her. To the right, a group of warriors fought against a giant scorpion that chittered and threatened them with his fearsome poisoned tail.
Crying out in anger and rage, Oberon threw himself from his horse and ran towards the beast. He pulled a whip from his belt that was tipped with stars and lashed at the monster’s claws. As the creature reared back and prepared to strike him with his poison, Oberon pulled forth the flask he had filled at his mother’s pool and removed its stopper. With one quick motion, he covered the beast with droplets of water and where the tears touched the scorpion’s flesh, he smoked as if touched with flame instead of water and began to dissolve. Issuing a final piercing shriek, the scorpion turned into mist and was gone, a nightmare banished by the moon’s tears.
Oberon rushed to his queen’s side and used some of the tears left in the bottle to heal the wound on Titania’s foot. “My queen,” he said as gathered her into his arms. “What were you doing on this path so far from our home? Usually, you dance in the glade and enjoy the protections that sacred place gives us all.”
Titania kissed his cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I was looking for you, my king,” she said. “You had been gone so long I feared you were lost to me. Your people and I have come to fetch you home. What kept you from my side for so long? I mourned in your absence.”
The elf king rose from the ground with his queen in his arms. “I had been blinded but can now see again,” he said. “Promise that you will not wander without me, for I do not wish to lose you. Without you, the sky would not shine for me nor whisper any secrets worth knowing.”
“We will dance together always, I do so swear it,” Titania said and carrying his queen Oberon and his retinue walked away, down the moonlit path and into the dark forest beyond.
I heard the wolf’s howl ascend into the night sky once more as my vision faded.
The Light Congress 