Gate: The Magician
I stepped through the vision gate and was standing in a world made of stone where a forbidding tower stood before me upon the earth. As I was adjusting to my presence in this new realm, the tower was struck by a bolt of lightning and toppled. Immediately, another tower rose from the ground to take its place, was struck by lightning, and collapsed. The ground shook with the energy and power of the cycle of transformation.
Again and again, a tower emerged from the earth, a storm descended from the sky, the tower was destroyed, and then rose again. Finally, a tower came from beneath my own feet and propelled me up into the sky. I waited for the lightning to strike and destroy me and the tower both, but an unseen presence came from the sky and took me up into the storm. My sight dissolved into particles of light and shadow, and I could see nothing else for a time.
When I could perceive my surroundings again, I was gazing down through a glass floor at the stone-filled landscape with its shifting towers. I blinked, clearing the storm clouds from my eyes, and I realized I was standing in the Temple of Imagination. Michael stood next to me in silence in his customary armor, watching the towers’ destruction, rebirth, and seemingly endless cycle.
“Hello again, Michael,” I said. “I feel like it has been awhile since I’ve seen your face.”
“You’d be surprised at my experience of time,” the angel said, raising his visor so that I could see his eyes within the shadows of his helm. “To me, you just walked out the door and immediately reappeared here. Do you remember the last time you were in the Temple?”
“Ummm,” I said, searching my memory but nothing came to me. “I’ve been quite a few places in the Inner Worlds since. Refresh my memory, please.”
“Go back and read the record of the vision,” Michael said, gently closing his visor once more. “Thank goodness you learned to write everything down this time. Your memory for events in the other worlds really is the worst I’ve yet encountered.”
“I will, Michael,” I said. “I promise. Anyway, back to the present, what is this place?”
“The Hall of the Magician,” he whispered, reverently. “See how she shapes the raw forces of creation?”
“I see it,” I replied. “I’ve seen a similar pattern to this before. It reminds me of what Mars does with an entire city in the realm of his influence. What else does the magician do besides raise up scary looking towers and then throw them down again? I can’t see how this skill could be used for the betterment of all though it is engaging to watch.”
“She shapes reality and also measures it,” said Michael.
“Like the Fates?” I said. “How does one measure reality?”
The angel gave a short laugh. “Sure, why not. Our magician acts just like the Fates and measures reality by comparing it to the reality in her head, the imagination to be precise,” he said. “As you can see by the endless cycle of creation and destruction, she always finds reality unsatisfactory so she tears it down and begins again.”
“To be honest, so do I. My waking world suffers from a severe shortage of imagination. Michael, please take me to this magician,” I said. “It is time that I met her and learn about her true nature.”
“Of course,” he said and took my arm. “Right this way, Heidi.” As the angel and I moved through the endless halls of the temple together, I sensed activity and presences all around us. My Badger came storming by in his human form, chased by a group of laughing children, as he ran his missions for the Eternal War throughout the worlds. Lickspittle in his small lizard form grinned at me from behind a pillar and then disappeared with a wave. Many of the treasure chests opened and closed by themselves, being manipulated by spirits whom I could not see but I could feel with my heart.
“The temple has become rather busy, hasn’t it?” I observed. “That’s nice. It makes me feel like I’m part of a larger legacy of existence rather than a solitary seeker in the shadows of creation. It’s kind of like having a family of spirit. I like it very much.”
“We were hoping you’d feel like that. The Light Congress is wide awake and exploring all of the worlds, paths and new gates,” said Michael. “They’ve been making some changes as they do so. Would you like to see what they’ve been up to? It will only take a moment.”
I nodded my consent and Michael turned down a new hallway. At the end of this space, he opened a wooden door and gestured for me to go within. “They built a Mirror of Light for your own personal use just as you observed once on the Other Side of the Mirror,” he said. Within the mists of this room, a golden mirror shining with a bright light emerged from the shadows. “Do you like it?”
“Thank goodness they were able to put it back together again,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets. “I felt really bad when the last one fell to glittering dust beneath my hands. I’ll be sure not to touch this one.”
Michael smiled and his reflection in the mirror began to laugh though the angel on my side of the mirror did no such thing. “The Mirror Prince was just messing with you, Heidi,” the angel said. “He wanted to extract a bunch of apologies from you in advance so that if things took a turn for the worse in the future he could call in those apologies from creation like a pile of personal markers from you to him.”
“No. Did he really?” I said, as Michael’s reflection continued to laugh. The laughs turned into a single hiccup and then the angel’s reflection returned to his usual appearance of calm collectedness of presence.
“The Mirror of Light was rebuilt the second you left their world,” Michael said. “I promise this is true.”
“Well, whatever happened was meant to happen and I very much like this new addition to the Treasure House,” I said, admiring the beauty of the mirror. “Tell me, how is a Mirror of Light different from a Mirror of Shadows? This version isn’t showing the active energy grids and past lives like the last one I saw.”
“That’s because you were on the Other Side. This is a counterpart to what you saw then on our side of the mirror. The Mirror of Shadows shows things as they are. The Mirror of Light shows reality at its finest and highest potential,” my guardian replied. “More than that, the Mirror of Light shows things as they could be, almost like a Mirror of Dreams really but that’s a whole other realm of influence so let’s stick with the Light designation for now.”
I stood in front of the glowing mirror and saw myself reflected on its surface. Then, I saw my real child from the waking world run into my arms among a crowd of dancing and playing children. They all called me, “Mother,” just as she did. I gathered my daughter into my arms in an enormous hug while the other children milled about us in a happy group of smiling spirits.
“Your family dwells within too,” said Michael. “Well, some of them.”
“I have but one child,” I replied, transfixed by the scene and the peaceful smile on my face.
“You’re so wrong,” said the angel. “All of these meditations are your children. Every member of the Light Congress is your child. You are mother to us all.”
“I think you are confusing me with the Divine Mother,” I said. “I admire her very much and wish to be just like her, a shining example of the unconditional love of the Mother for all creation, but my waking world doesn’t really allow for such large pretends.”
“But your Interior Kingdoms do,” Michael said. “Contemplate that and the message you received from the one who called herself, Ariadne. Maybe you will come to a different opinion on the matter in time.”
“I will do as you advise,” I said, watching the laughing children surrounding me in the mirror. “What is the purpose of the Mirror of Light? Beyond seeing the best that life has to offer the spirit at this moment in time?”
“As I said before, this mirror can help you dream the best dreams from the worlds of the universal truths,” Michael said. “And to birth them into reality on behalf of the Creator of All and Love.”
“Like the realm of Unity?” I said.
“As well as the Atziluthian universe,” Michael said.
“Well, that’s a whole series of worlds with their gates and paths too,” I said.
“Just so,” the angel said and gestured at the Mirror of Light with a wave of his hand.
The scene in the mirror changed. Now, I held a single baby in my arms, all of the other children had vanished, and I watched myself coo at him as mothers and fathers do throughout the worlds. At first, the baby appeared as an infant in swaddling clothes. But then, he changed into a large, glowing book printed in letters of gold and shining with a light from another world. The vision within the mirror flashed back and forth so quickly that after a while I could not tell the infant from the book though my reflection stayed the same in either version.
“Michael,” I whispered, entranced by the vision. “I’m holding my Light Congress, my son who-never-was and book yet-to-be both embodied. Do you see him shine?” I reached out my hand to touch the mirror’s surface, but it wasn’t solid and I fell through into light and mist.
“Heidi, what are you doing here?” said Merlin when I could perceive my surroundings again.
I blinked and found myself standing in Merlin’s library, clearly having just disturbed him in the middle of one of his projects. “How embarrassing. I was drawn by a vision of a dream I want to realize through a hidden gate, falling through a new mirror in the Temple of Imagination into your library,” I said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt whatever it is that you’re up to today. I’m sorry, Merlin.”
“No matter, it was time for a break anyway,” said the wizard. “Would you like to see what I have been working on?” I nodded and Merlin grinned in excitement.
“You showed me how to create progenitor energy a long time ago, remember?” he said. “I’ve been experimenting with possible applications of this energy.” The wizard brought his hands up to his chest and, when he removed them, they cradled a sparkling light. “Now, watch this!” Merlin said and threw the spark into the air where it exploded into streaming lights of various hues.
Then, as the light fell to the floor, it shaped itself into a multitude of Merlins, all made of light. This crowd jostled and pushed each other, then shot off into every direction and disappeared from the library.
“What on earth was that?” I said.
“I’ve learned to clone myself so I can be in many places and times at once,” he said, laughing. “Time used to be my enemy but now he is one of my dearest friends. In fact, I’m expecting him for tea any moment.”
“You’re meeting Time for tea?” I asked.
“Yes, the great centipede and I have lengthy discussions on reality. He is quite knowledgeable, having seen and experienced everything existence has to offer,” said Merlin.
“I didn’t know he could share his experiences throughout existence,” I said. “At least, he’s never spoken very much to me. Usually we just dance on the moon together like a whirlwind in the imagination of the void of space or we barrel through the worlds, getting to the necessary destination in the knick of time together.”
“He excels at that. And here he is now,” Merlin declared. There came a sound like a train rushing through a tunnel and then Time in his aspect of a centipede was sitting at the table. He had on a top hat which he removed with a flourish and then, with one of his mammoth forelegs, he adjusted a monocle to a tiny eye and peered down at me.
“Time, we have a visitor to our merry band,” said Merlin. “You’ve made her acquaintance so I’m sure you won’t be put out by the addition to our tea party.”
The centipede nodded his head gravely. “Heidi is known to me,” he said and Merlin poured a cup of tea for the two of them. As Time picked up his cup, that strange rushing sound came again, there was a shimmer, and suddenly, the centipede was holding a tea cup in each of his ‘hands,’ which amounted to hundreds of cups.
I must have looked surprised because Merlin said, “Time is a handy spirit to have around. As you can see, given a small amount of material, he can make his own repast.”
“How does he manage it?” I asked.
The centipede sipped daintily from one of his cups. “All things come in time,” he said.
“How about outside of time?” I said.
“That too,” Time replied.
“Shall I pour you a cup, Heidi?” asked Merlin.
“I prefer coffee, if you please,” I said. “If it’s not too much trouble.” From the same teapot, a stream of coffee went into the cup in front of me.
“No trouble at all,” said Merlin and we all three drank our beverages together in companionable silence.
“Once upon a time,” said the centipede, breaking the revere. “There was a magician who sought the nature of Time. She went forth into her mind and discovered many extraordinary beings. What she didn’t realize is that, as she met these powers, the powers met her. Through their interaction, the beings took on a life of their own and Time himself began to speak to her.”
All were silent around the table for a moment. Suddenly, I felt as if I didn’t know where to place my teacup. “Silly me,” I thought and put the cup back on its saucer upon the table. Then, I picked up a shortbread cookie covered in granulated sugar which I happily consumed as Merlin politely wiped a drop of tea from his lips.
“I too have a tale for this company,” Merlin said after a brief pause. “For once upon a time, there was a magician who sought the nature of Magic. She went forth into her mind and discovered Magic there. What she didn’t realize is he had been within her the whole time, waiting for her attention to bring him back to life. The truth is, as she sought Magic, Magic looked for her.”
Merlin and Time gazed expectantly at me though I had no idea what they desired. “Heidi from another world,” said a whisper from my coffee cup. “Have you no messages from your waking world for Time and the wizard of the woods?”
The whisper startled me. I opened my mouth to ask who was dwelling on the tea party table but instead of my own voice, another began to speak through me. “Once upon a time, there was a magician who sought the nature of Love…” but I began to choke on air and couldn’t speak the words.
“Go on, Heidi. You’ve made a good start,” encouraged Merlin. “What did she find?”
“Please tell me,” Time said. “I’ll meet you at that exact moment of time if you can give me the coordinates.”
“Don’t ask questions like that of Mouse,” whispered the voice from my cup. “You’ll scare her back into the shadows.”
I coughed but couldn’t dislodge the lump in my throat. “A messenger sought the nature of Love…” I tried again, but again was silenced. Tears began to pour down my cheeks. “But she wasn’t given the words to tell its pattern and timeless story,” I said and the blockage in my throat came pouring out of my mouth. A dark shadow fell into my lap and shaped himself into a hissing cobra with his tail wrapped around my throat and chest in a strangle hold of power and control.
Merlin and Time glanced at each other and then back at me. I shook as the cobra squeezed my chest, constricting both the air in my lungs as well as my frantically beating heart. “Heidi, your wound that doesn’t heal is beginning to take on a life of his own,” said Merlin. “If you could only speak the story, we could help you. Time heals all things, as you know.”
“I can’t tell the story,” I wheezed. “He’s crushing me. He’s too strong. The shadow has stolen my breath and my voice. He says he wants the paths of my heart next.” The snake opened his hood and prepared to strike at the other members of the tea party. “He says if you won’t give them to him, he’ll take your voices too.”
“You carry a very brave or very foolish shadow to threaten ones such as we,” Time said. “I’ll return to his genesis and end him before he begins the journey of existence.”
I sat in silence as the tears continued to drip down my cheeks, landing on the shadow serpent who started to get larger and began to loop himself around my torso in thick lines of shadow and darkness. “He says if you try that, he’ll do the same to me,” I said. “What happens to the shadows, happens to the Messenger.”
Time’s form started to change from a multi-armed centipede to a wolf-headed spirit in the shape of a man who carried a hunting rifle. “Tell him to say that again,” Time growled. “To my face this time.”
“Please don’t escalate the conflict,” I said, raising my hands in entreaty. “Every time we do, things get worse and worse in the Inner Worlds. Please Time, let’s take a moment to breathe and drink our drinks and think happy thoughts.”
“I won’t sit here idly while that thing chokes the life out of you,” Time said. “Wizard, do something. Now.”
“We said no wolves at civilized gatherings, Time. Thank goodness I know someone else who likes to drink tea and I invited her to this party,” said Merlin. “She always seems to arrive last but right on time. Oh, here she is now. Take heart, Heidi, your giant is here to help.”
At that moment, Love herself walked through the garden wall into the tea party. She took in the scene at a glance and sat herself in the last empty seat across from me and the threatening shadow serpent from my throat.
“What was her contribution to this party?” Venus said as Time’s form wavered and changed into a helmeted warrior with a net in one hand and a trident in the other.
“She was telling a story about Love and the Inner Worlds,” Merlin said.
“And a serpent took her voice and breath away,” Time said. “Draw out the poison planted by the shadows, Venus. I will capture it and return it to the void where it belongs.”
“If that’s what Heidi wants,” the goddess said, taking Time’s cup from the table and a sip of his tea. “Is that what you want, my child?”
“Please help me,” I whispered but the serpent took hold of my tongue and changed the words.
“Leave me alone,” said the snake.
“I’m afraid,” I said, unheard.
“I hate you,” said the snake with my voice.
“I can’t fight him,” I said.
“I’ll kill you all,” whispered the snake.
“Everyone heard that, right?” Time said. “Her voice in the shadows behind the louder one?”
Merlin removed his pointed wizard hat and started to change form, becoming a spirit in the shape of a man in a heavy traveler’s cloak such as the god Odin favors. “Help us, Idun,” the wizard said. “This part of the Eternal War has broken my heart.”
“Idun, is it now?” the goddess said with a smile. “That’s one I haven’t embodied in some time.”
“Do you remember the form?” Time said, raising his trident to his shoulder. “I can help you if you’ve forgotten it through the passage of time.”
“We do not forget,” the goddess whispered in many voices as her form began to shift from a Grecian-robed deity into someone else. “We remember so that they do not have to. We are timeless, deathless and eternal.” A bright light began to shine from Venus’ heart which shone so fiercely that I closed my eyes because the brilliance was painful. As I sat blind and wreathed in a serpent’s coils, the goddess began to speak.
“Once upon a time,” said Love. “There was an Eternal Child who sought the nature of Love. She loved deeply and truly but she didn’t tell anyone the truth because she couldn’t find the words, the time, or courage to do so. Open your eyes, Heidi, so that the shadow can see what happens next.”
“Leave me my visions,” whispered the snake in my voice. “They take them from me every time.”
“Not every time,” said Time. “Sometimes we give you our own.”
“See with my eyes,” whispered the voice from the tea table cups and I found my eyes opening by a power outside of my own. To my sight, the goddess had resumed her usual form of the Roman goddess Venus and, as I watched, Love reached into her robes and drew forth a shiny, red apple.
“Now Anxiety, you old snake, release our tea party guest and I will give you this in her stead,” Venus said. “This is what you really desire, isn’t it? Not someone else’s voice.”
The serpent hissed then spoke with my voice again. “Why would I need apples?” he said, the creature’s forked tongue going in and out of my mouth. “I have a whole garden’s worth.”
“This is more than an apple,” said Venus. “This is true and unconditional love from me to you, no strings attached. I was once given this for being the fairest of all the goddesses. The fallout from that particular contest is well known. I would break that pattern for this Child’s sake.”
The shadow serpent laughed. “You would remove your ensorcelling mask of beauty, Love?” he said. “This is good. My progeny will tear her pieces when she appears among them, unprotected by you.”
“We speak of more than a long-sought prize for an ancient beauty contest,” said Time, changing back into his centipede form. He touched the red apple with one of his forelegs. “I offer a moment of Heidi’s time, one that I took in order to bring her to this table. If you accept this apple in exchange for her voice and breath, it shall be yours.”
“What care I for a moment in time?” the serpent hissed. “All her time is mine from the first to the last, as it is for all the daughters of men.”
“I will sweeten the offering with some of her magic,” said Merlin, who also tapped the apple with a finger. “I made a distillation from the Stone of the Philosophers which she discovered once upon a time. Be warned, I haven’t tested the solution yet so I have no idea what result may flow from it.” The fruit glittered and sparkled, then it changed to pure gold. Words began to appear beneath the fruit’s skin, shifting and moving in the light from the tea party guests.
“Be warned, Serpent. The stone was a gift from Lord Hades,” I whispered. “A dream of Death.”
“Gifts are not discoveries,” said the serpent, using my voice. “And as such constitute an unfit offering for me.”
Love raised one hand and the Stone of Philosophers flew from my spirit into her hand. “Would you look at that?” the goddess said. “I just found this ring. I wonder what it does.”
“Gaze through it to see the spirit unmasked,” I whispered.
“Don’t look at me,” the snake said over my whisper. “I will consume your aspects in all the worlds and leave you in the darkness outside of creation where my brothers will take you to pieces.”
Venus raised the ring to her eyes and looked through it. “She is a Child of Love,” the goddess said. “Take the apple, Snake. This will still be considered a partial victory for you, for on the battlefields of Eternity, I conquer all things.” Venus stood from her seat at the table and came to my side, placing the ring on my hand. “Dry your tears, daughter,” the goddess said. “Injuries are only shadow.”
“Mother, help me,” I whispered. “I don’t understand your game.”
“I hate you most, Woman. I wish I’d never been born,” the serpent said, then Anxiety threw himself at the golden fruit which contained Love, Time and Magic. He swallowed the morsel with a snap of his mighty jaws and then he disappeared, taking the coils that had smothered me with him. I took a deep breath of relief as the monster left both my spirit and my reality.
“Can you tell the story now, my Child?” asked Love. “That particular shadow has been problematic since the start. Do not allow him to silence you.”
I shook my head negatively. “There are still no words for me to speak,” I said, the sound coming not from my throat but from the ring on my hand. “My voice is missing from the gameboard and I sit in silence, waiting ever for its return.”
“Now, Heidi,” said Merlin and he took my hand, his touch causing the ring to vanish back into my spirit from where it had emerged. “Do try. You have embodied aspects of Time, Love, and Magic sitting here with you, a powerful triad for spiritual evolution and a bridge to the worlds beyond your waking one. We will help return your voice from wherever it has fled.”
“Try again, Light Congress,” Time said, shifting from his centipede form into a whirling tornado of air and countless cups of tea. “We’ve all the time in creation to set this right.”
Venus delicately grasped one of the whirling tea cups from Time and resumed her seat opposite to me at the table, sipping from the drink as she did so. “Ah, raspberry tea,” she murmured. “One of my favorites.” As the goddess drank from the cup, I felt a power rising within me, coming from my stomach and heart to rest in my throat. “But sometimes,” Venus said. “Simple water is best.” She waved her hand towards my tea cup and the coffee from Merlin changed into something else. “Drink with me, Child,” she said and raised her cup in a toast. “When all hope is lost, a way appears. This is so for the Eternal Youth, the warriors of light, and all who believe in the goodness of the one who put the stars in motion.”
I picked up my cup and brushed it against the side of the goddess’ tea cup where it made the pleasant ding of fine china. “To Love, Time, Magic, and an end to the Eternal War,” I said.
“Hear, hear,” Merlin said, raising his cup as well.
“Now, now,” echoed Time with his myriad drinks.
“Amor omnia vincit,” whispered Venus and the water itself in my cup as I drank it down.
When my cup was empty, I put it on the tabletop, cleared my throat, and started again. “Once upon a time, there was a woman, magician, and messenger who sought the true nature of the Creator of All and in this journey which was more than a cosmic game but life itself…” I said.
“She fell in Love,” Venus interjected.
“She fell in Time,” said the centipede.
“She fell in Magic,” finished Merlin.
“And healed the wound that wouldn’t heal,” I said. “Then she became an expression of Unity and unconditional love for all the worlds.”
“The end?” said Time.
“It is never the end,” said Venus. “For Eternity isn’t long enough to dance with you.” My vision split into particles of light and shadow as the tea party and immortal guests began to spin around me. The gods and goddess at the table merged into each other so there was only one big mass of light and shifting forms. I blinked, my sight cleared and I realized I was gazing into the Mirror of Light in the Temple of the Imagination with Michael beside me once more.
“The Light Congress was hoping that you’d like it,” he said, peering anxiously into my face. “Do you like the dream therein? It is one of our best.”
“Like it?” I said. “It is unbelievable. It is whatever is required for spiritual evolution. I only wish it didn’t hurt me as badly as it does.” Then, unceremoniously, my consciousness fled back into the mirror and I fainted into the angel’s arms.
When I opened my eyes again, I was reclining on a Roman-style couch in the midst of my friends, the Light Congress. Everyone was dressed in their finest clothing and aspects of humanity throughout time. We faced a square stage with sumptuous red curtains upon which Dionysus stood with his golden curls, leopard skin tunic, and grape vines adorning all. “Can I begin now?” he asked the crowd with a disdainful sniff. “I am through waiting for our resident laggard.”
“Heidi’s awake, you may begin,” called Michael, who was seated next to me in his robes of state rather than armor. “The old drunk can hardly wait to get back to his cups,” he whispered teasingly into my ear. “Don’t let his impatience rattle you.”
“I heard that, Prince,” said Dionysus. “Say that again and I’ll drown you in my oceans of wine until you learn some manners.” The crowd tittered as the god opened his arms wide and addressed the room. “Most august friends, family, and warriors of old, I present unto you, How Dionysus Discovered Wine.”
“How did I come to be here, Michael?” I whispered as the lights dimmed in the room.
“Ssssshhh,” the angel said. “We brought you through a new gate. I’ll show you later.”
Harp music floated through the air from hidden musicians behind the stage and then twelve nymphs with nothing on except leaves and vines appeared on stage. “Eons ago when the worlds were new, I found myself in a cavern in Thrace with a handful of my worshippers,” said the god. “And there was nothing to eat nor drink. One can easily imagine our great discomfort.” The muses of his orchard danced and spun around Dionysus, weaving their assorted vines into organized lines like that of a domesticated vineyard. “So, rather than suffer, I filled the cave with grapes. It went something like this.”
The god waved his arms in an expression of boredom as much as creation and growth exploded upon the stage, swathing the dancers in a further profusion of vines and luscious fruit. “We frolicked together in the cave so long the grapes were crushed beneath our feet and seasoned with our sweat and love,” Dionysus said and began to chase the nymphs who giggled and fled from him, smashing the grapes upon the wooden stage. As he caught them, the god kissed first one muse then another. Their kisses were transmuted into wine as much as the grapes being crushed upon the stage and soon all the dancers were drenched in the vintage of Dionysus.
I felt the moment the divine madess of the god manifested upon the stage for mist made of starlight from his orchards began to rise from the trampled vines and grapes of the play as well as stream from the dancers’ mouths. Dionysus eyes lit up with his burgeoning power, changing from the gold color that matched his hair to the reddish-purple of the wine. “Where are you, Ariadne?” said the god in a whisper that traveled from the stage to everyone observing the dance. “Are you she?” He grabbed one of the nymphs in a tight embrace, but then released her and grasped the next who danced by. “Are you here?”
“For god’s sake, Dionysus, keep it clean,” said a voice from the crowd as the kisses began to turn into something else. “There are children present.” I drew my eyes from the stage and saw my Inner Child laughing in the front row at the god’s antics.
“Jellyfish, Jellyfish, look at all the dancing tea cups,” she said, clapping her hands together in delight. “How do they dance without smashing into one another?”
“It takes a lot of practice, little Mouse,” said the knight in armor seated beside her. “Have you ever ridden on a carnival ride like this?”
“With my mother once upon a time,” Mouse said. “It can make you dizzy if you don’t hold your spirit in your center as you whirl around with the other cups.”
“What a clever little Mouse you are,” the knight said. “What’s your favorite ride at the fairs?”
My attention was drawn away from their conversation and back to the stage by a bellow of animalistic rage. “Where are you?!” the god roared and threw out his arms to his sides. Suddenly, for every dancer on the stage there was an embodiment of Dionysus and the gods wrapped every nymph in their arms in such a profusion of vines that it was as if she was more plant than female, an expression of nature rather than humanity.
The pairs began to spin around each other, becoming whirlwinds of climbing vines that shot up towards the vaulted ceiling of the theater. Bits of tile and building materials began to fall from above as the vines integrated themselves into the theater itself, changing the venue from a construction of civilization into one of the god’s orchards.
Some of The Light Congress fled the theater with cries of fear, holding their arms above their heads to protect themselves from the god’s vengeful wrath, while others put on their protective armor and helmets to brave what came next.
“He’s remaking the world to find her,” Michael said, expanding his wings so that none of the falling debris touched me while manifesting his shining silver armor.
“Find who?” I said, putting my hands in front of my face so that the swirling dust wouldn’t blow into my eyes and irritate them.
“His lost love,” the angel said.
“Aren’t any of the dancers on the stage her?” I said.
“They all are,” Michael said. “He just can’t see her when the madness takes his eyes.”
“Then we should ask Madness to let his eyes go,” I said.
“If only it were that simple, Heidi,” the angel said.
“It is that simple,” I said. “We should tell whoever that is that they’re hurting the god and to please stop.”
A single embodiment of Dionysus remained alone on the stage in the midst of the twisting and growing vines. He fell to his knees screaming as wine flowed from his eyes in the place of tears. “I have searched the worlds for you,” the god said, tearing at the vines around him and his own clothing. “Why do you remain distant from me? Do you not love me as I love you?”
“Pray with me, Michael,” I said. “He’s going to injure himself if the universe doesn’t give him an answer.”
“My very existence is a prayer for mercy,” the angel said, taking my hands in his. “But I will ask the powers that be to reveal themselves to us if that is what you desire.”
“It can’t hurt at this point,” I said. As Michael and I bent our heads towards one another to ask the Creator of All and Love for help, a rift opened in the air beside the grief-maddened god upon the stage. A presence made of deep shadow came from the void beyond to kneel on the stage beside Dionysus.
“Cover her ears. This song could make her deaf,” said a whisper from the air beside me and Michael placed his hands upon the sides of my head, immediately ending all the sound in my experience.
“Michael, I want to hear,” I said, my own voice silenced somehow beneath the angel’s protective hands. He shook his head to the negative but then gestured towards my lap where a cream-colored page with purple lettering in ornate calligraphy was manifesting. I brought the page closer to my eyes and this is what I read:
From the hand of the Ancient of Days:
During the Second Age in the Elvish Triarchy of Ogmore, Morlonda, greatest elvish singer of her generation or any succeeding one, was born.
It is said of Morlonda that even the first-born and most powerful among the elves were held in suspended animation and amazement at the sound of her voice, much like the later children of Malkuth. For this reason, the Triarchs ruled that she could only sing in the Auditron on high holy days.
As the elves who listened to her might be mesmerised for days, a certain one was made deaf and waited next to her as she sang. Once three days had passed, Morlonda’s deaf companion would strike her with a staff to still her song. Nothing less would rouse the great singer to cease her performance and release the crowd.
Morlonda secretly lamented that her song was heard by so few. At the rising of the sun on the day of Ashes, she stole from the citadel without her deaf companion and made her way into the wide world alone.
Morlonda roamed the lands of the later children. Though she meant to bring the joy of her song, instead she brought death, for none could withstand the power of her voice, and they stood amazed and unable to even care for themselves.
In despair of finding any who could hear her voice and live, Morlonda set her sight on the isolated majesty of Mount Erbon, highest of all peaks in Atziluth. Day after day she climbed the peak, sustained by the gifts of the first-born, yet still diminished and in peril of her life. If ever she thought to look down in longing upon the warm and fertile lands below, it only caused her to turn and drive herself yet higher towards the peak and the freedom she imagined could be found there.
On the day of Awakening, Morlonda found she could climb no higher and cast herself down upon the summit of the mountain. As she stared into heaven and waited for the end of her life to come, the sun set and the stars appeared one by one. Each shone brighter and more clearly than she had ever seen, and by a trick of the mountain’s great height, she felt that they surrounded her on all sides, almost as if she herself was walking among them.
Quietly, Morlonda began to sing her Great Lament to the stars. From the depths of her despair, the song took on a new potency and grew louder and louder as more and more stars attended to her lament. As with the elves, the stars stopped in their tracks in amazement and time itself ceased to move. Night could not end, and day could not come. The universe itself halted in its ever-moving song, bowing to the might of the greatest singer ever born.
The gods looked down on Atziluth and saw with great alarm that time itself had stopped. Taking counsel, they agreed to send The Traveler, of the silver tongue and the most-honored singer among the gods, to plead with Morlanda to release the stars and the rest of creation from her spell.
Descending on Mount Erbon, The Traveler spoke, “On behalf of the Gods, I beseech you, cease your lament lest you break the heart of the world itself and all things on Malkuth pass away.”
“How then shall I live?” she asked. “My grief is no longer bound by the world. Must I forego my gift and so die, that the world might live?”
Now The Traveler was wont to travel among the stars, gathering their wisdom and foresight. Despite the necessity of his mission, he did not wish Morlonda to end her existence in the worlds. And so he said, “Cease your song, great singer, and I have within my power to grant you another gift in return.”
“What gift could you possibly give, which can match my song of grief and longing?” she replied, with tears in her eyes.
“I swear upon my own immortal life that I will grant you the gift of prophecy,” he said. “Ask of me and I will help you see the future, so you and your people may take comfort and resist your despair.”
And this is how Morlonda came to learn the Song of Stars from The Traveler as they sat on the mountain gazing at the stars overhead. Though none remember the exact words of the conversation, the pair spoke of many things, and this is how they came to fall in love one with the other.
Returning to her people, Morlonda taught them the song she had learned from the gods’ own singer. She lived among the elves of Malkuth in peace for many years, until one day she again grew weary of the world and its grief, and missed her immortal lover.
Climbing Mount Erbon one final time, she lay herself down upon the summit and gazed again at the stars, as she had so many centuries prior, awaiting the end of her days. But The Traveler, returning from his ceaseless journeys, saw the great singer and lifted her up to dwell among the stars themselves.
To this day, Morlonda, bane of the universe and the greatest singer of all time, hovers above the mountain as the rest of heaven passes by, waiting for The Traveler to return and share stories with each other.
I drew my eyes from the page and back to the stage just in time to see the kneeling shadow in the shape of a woman made of the night sky and stars from the rift in reality cup her hands and begin to pour shining sparks of light into the outstretched hands of the grieving god who knelt beside her. Though the sky woman’s lips were moving, I could hear nothing through Michael’s hands and could only guess at the words coming from her.
As the individual lights moved from her hands into Dionysus’, the stars faded from her form and, after a time, the shadow that had begun as the night sky with stars became something else, a void of darkness without illuminating light of any kind. The god, on the other hand, raised the sparkling light in his hands to his lips and drank. There was a bright flash of light as if all of the stars in the sky were shining in one place for a single moment in time and I shut my eyes briefly but not before Dionysus’ form had been outlined within them in the brilliant light that had come from beyond creation in response to his grief and longing for Love.
I kept my eyes shut tightly until Michael removed his hands from my ears. When I opened my eyes, all remnants of the theater were gone and The Light Congress and I sat within an expansive orchard of grapevines. Dionysus was rising to his feet, all alone before us. His eyes had changed again but I could no longer see their color, just shining light like two stars in his countenance. “What happened to the spirit from the sky?” I murmured to Michael.
“She returned to the realm from whence she came,” the angel said.
“That’s really sad,” I said. “Why didn’t Dionysus go with her?”
“Who says he didn’t,” Michael said. “You saw with your own eyes how he can split himself into separate aspects with individual consciousness if he chooses to do so.”
“Oh, I didn’t even think of that,” I said and turned my attention back to Dionysus, who cleared his throat and began to speak.
“I think we all know what was done in that cave,” the god said, then from out of the vines wreathing his form, Dionysus drew his personal golden cup. “When my worshippers and I were through, I had discovered a way to ferment grapes and thus gifted wine to humanity. Drink, oh warriors of old, and know my portion of the mysteries.” The god moved through the vines separating me from him as if they were nothing more than shadows and offered his cup to me with his own hands as he had done before in his own kingdom.
“What would Heidi want with your vintage?” called Odin from somewhere behind me. “She’s already had it, remember?”
Dionysus appeared affronted. “Heidi healed me once,” he said, pressing his lips together in a firm line. “Now, I offer her the same and I would appreciate no further comments from the gallery at this time lest I turn you back into a voiceless goat.”
“Please don’t be unkind, Great One,” I said. “Even in the depths of madness and despair, there are ways to move through the dance of existence with dignity and grace.”
The god of wine raised the goblet to my lips. “Fairer words were never spoken but I allow no slights nor disrespect to trouble those who worship with me. Drink, Heidi, and know the blessing of Dionysus,” he said. “I offer it to you.” I swallowed the rich contents of the cup, blinked once, and where there had been an orchard full of The Light Congress, I now beheld only growing vines.
“Where is everybody?” I called into the endless fields but only silence answered. “Lord Dionysus? Michael?”
In response to my cry, I sensed a familiar presence in the orchards. A faint voice reached my ears as the spirit called my name, over and over again, making a summoning song out of the birth name given to me by my parents. I tried to run to whoever was calling me, but the vines of the orchard were too thick and profuse from the gift of Dionysus.
“I’m here!” I cried out, fighting the orchard as if it was a living being who was trying to keep me from my desired destination. “I’m stuck in the vines, but I’m here, whoever you are! Please don’t give up on me!” Playing a game of echoes and song, the spirit finally located me within the vines and I wrapped my arms around his neck, allowing him to carry me through the impassable foliage.
“Would you crush some grapes with me, Heidi?” my Animus whispered as we moved through his domesticated vineyards towards the uncharted wilderness of Arcadia.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I replied. I kissed the one I loved and my vision ended.
