One World to Another
One World to another
"Peace, so much peace." He whispered between long slow puffs from his pipe.
"Hmm when time has no meaning it does fly so." He spoke in a sullen tone.
For here sat walfrid a "man" of two worlds, rescued from another with the good, brought home he preferred to say. He had now been at peace in a perfect paradise now for, for how long? Who can say, not he, for now that his time had come it seemed no more than a blink of an eye.
But in reality it might only have been a day or two shorter than an eternity, depending on the length of days you realise.
Though he had been here many, many lifetimes, immortal lifetimes, if that makes any sense, you understand I'm sure, it might as well have been yesterday.
Which by the way he was having difficulty in working out, and shook at his head, due to the meaning of or lack of meaning of time in such a place as this.
Because in this place, if there was such a thing as time, then everyone and everything would have all the time in the world.
That is unless one had a calling, and our dear old walfrid was one who had and was now being beckoned, which was the cause of his sullenness.
He had realised way back when that this time was always around the corner, since the very day that the gods had plucked him from that dreary world they call earth for.
"I really am ungrateful aren't I." he asked himself aloud....
"Ooooh! Dearie, dearie me, indeed why me." He sighed.
"Design my dear old friend, by design!"
"Um." Walfrid turned to find falsaff, prince falsaff of the woodland elves smiled.
"Oh forgive me my friend I had no idea."
"No need walfrid, I should have known better than to creep up on a such a grand wizard while he is deep in thought, but I cannot pretend not to have heard your thoughts and I am, shall we say troubled by your melancholy, it is not like you walfrid."
Walfrid at long last smiled. "Yes my lord, you should know better ha-ha! But you are correct prince falsaff you do find me in a state of self-pity and am glad of your company." He beamed.
"Tell me, would it be correct to assume that you will be on your travels again, eh, sometime in the near future hmm."
"Yes and no." The wizard raised a mischievous eyebrow.
"Oh ho, now that is the walfrid we all know and love." The elf prince grinned.
"Ho-ho ho you gladden my heart by your presence alone my prince, you must forgive me once more, you are of course correct, but not entirely by my meaning, not in the future my friend but imminently."
The wizard was momentarily silent before continuing....
"I am so puzzled by time in this place falsaff, for a moment ago it almost felt as if I had been in this beautiful place forever, but now". He shrugged his shoulders. "It’s as though I have only just arrived!"
"Of all the folk walfrid."
The prince looked upon the wizard sadly as he patted him on the arm. "You would be the last I would expect to have trouble with this thing called time."
Falsaff fingered a smooth white stone and sighed. "It is after all only a state of existence."
"What has happened old friend is that it is time to join your other existence, it is time, for this one must come to an end for you to give your all to the other you, you have always been there."
"It is about to begin again, so please walfrid, please do not look upon this time as an end, for you are about to begin again."
"Can you not tell walfrid, you are already there, you have always been there! It is indefinite, for you! For us!"
"Us, we?" Walfrid pointed back and forth between himself and prince falsaff, quizzically.
"We serve nature sir, your kind and my kind, this is what we do, we walfrid are a continuum, as all about us is, three worlds in one space in the same continuum."
He laughed aloud. "Ha-ha!" and slapped the wizard playfully across the shoulders.
Walfrid looked up in surprise and amazement, how un-elfish!
"Now try telling that to a mere mortal." Recovering his composure. "Hmm talking of mortals, is it not they that you now go to aid."
Walfrid pinched the flesh of his chin beneath his beard and lowered his eyes, the elven prince sighed.
"I do not seek to chide you walfrid, only to remind you, so as, simply to lift your spirit you understand."
The prince held aloft a hand as walfrid was about to speak.
"Would you not do the same for myself, of that sir I have no doubt so come now walfrid, dig deep and drag that sense of adventure back up to the surface my friend. We both know you still possess it and getting to know it again will, I'm sure bring a brighter outlook, go on try it!"
REALISATION.
....try it, try it, try it.... we will meet soon.....
Walfrid slowly removed his hat and looked about him, puzzled, h...how!
Memories begun flooding his mind as he found himself atop a horse.
"Aganta!"
He half shouted suddenly aware of its name.
You wily fox falsaff...
He looked down and found his staff secured along the length of aganta.
Time!... Time! go on try it! Well I'll be....
He removed his hat to fan his face.
I, I can remember yesterday! The day before and the day before that, I can remember everything on this earth.
Yet I remember.... mina! A life in eternity, did I dream it all? Is this a dream?
Ha-ha, two worlds! Two lives and two realities, very clever my friend falsaff.....
He shouted at the sky above.................
To THE NORTH.
Dum de dum dee dah dee dum de dum de doo....
The low and not so melodious sound barely travelled in the intense heat of the mid-morning, sun.
The buzzing wings of insects droned lazily, the sun still low but slowly ascended with the promise of more unbearable heat yet to come.
Nothing much else stirred as the lone overly dressed and dishevelled looking rider sat astride a powerful black stallion sauntered on, northwards, seemingly without a care in the world.
Walfrid, once a boy named tevlon now on a journey homeward, rather returning to whence he first set out.
Very much a man of the world, a man who had seen much too much for any man.
But walfrid was not just any man and had never thought himself special.
But as a boy he was wholly aware that something was different, that he possessed something that others did not, only he did not know what it was or how it could be tapped.
All he had to do was wait and say nothing.
A man it seems without a care in the world, rarely did he fret or panic. Sometimes resembling the one, or two! Well, he had never seen it like that.
Haste is a word he is often fond of and at times been guilty of, though impatient would be a more apt word than recklessness.
But this man who sauntered carefree on his travels could not shake off the dreams and visions that came to trouble him.
Stalking him some days and every night, a man unseen.
Thumping his thigh he repeated, every single night since...since....
Well he was not exactly a man unseen, it was not so much he was unable to visualise him, because he could. A man of high birth he was, a noble man, only his face was blurred and this was most unusual.
Was there mischief at work? If there was then who worked this mischief?
He turned his thoughts to the witch, kaleesha! Now this young lady intrigued him.
He knew her name but did not know why, or how and her face and body carried heavy scars, she had been very badly wounded, at one time, was she a victim of the rengers family?
Had she turned because of ill treatment?
Someone or something was responsible for her gruesome disfigurement, an innocent who had undoubtedly been such a beautiful creature at some stage.
What aroused his curiosity with this one though, was that she was reaching out, was it to him?
Can she be saved or for that matter was she to be sent from the world?
She has certainly become unhinged, but in this instance that can be more of a help than a hindrance!
A conundrum that only time will help unravel, he assured himself.
The castle too, was this the home of the rengars family that he saw?
His inner self told him that this was so but it looked so different, bigger, more solid but there again it had been a long, long time since last he had set his gaze upon the rengars family seat and many changes would surely have come and passed.
Furthermore he held no fond memories of such a place that gave birth to so many horrific tales and whether he liked it or not this would have an effect on anyone's memories, wizard or not!
His mind turned to the boy, an elfin boy who was not an elf but was... my oh my, how confusing… he muttered.
Red hair, green eyes and the whitest of skin....
Why this elfin boy?
Something told him that this elf did not belong or the boy felt that he did not belong....
Belong where or not belong where.... he again muttered.
The two cities of evan and devron figured prominently, always engulfed in flame with plumes of black smoke before fading and re-emerging in a swirl of mist.
Eventually the mist settles marginally above ground level to give him a glimpse of the devastation that lay beneath, slowly it rolled in a gentle caress over the mutilated eyeless bodies, partly devoured by scavenging animals.
Everywhere birds shrieked and cawed as they reluctantly make way for the wild dogs, and other creatures he could not quite make out.
Slowly fading the vision is replaced by another, the city of terwick!
Flags and standards ripple in the breeze, serene and sparkling in the sunlight.
War! War? No! Oh no this cannot be, it will not be allowed.... He mutters.
His mind will drift on to another dream, vision, which is always shrouded in darkness with grey fleeting shadows.
North, north, northward as far as one can reach on land, a land unfamiliar, he sensed north, his instinct told him so and this he trusted.
But then those senses were doing something they had never done before.
They were also telling him of another north all at the same time, and much to his annoyance, the answer, which had taken up much too much of his time and not to mention troubled his sleep, only to come up with such an underwhelming answer, which was in reality, geographically wrong, but locally true.
This other north was in the middle and not the north as such, in fact it was only a few days ride from where he now rode, it is, was his homeland!
Halfway north with the gigantic mountainous region of dorin and the dorin-tah, which divided the land in two, north and south, on the northern side lay heronborn in the tenizan region which is where the other “north” lies.
South of which lies devron, evan and terwick and off the eastern shore, two or three days sailing, conditions permitting, lay the brooding isle of brek.
A barren stone isle surrounded by an angry sea and enveloping it in the shadow of night, the ever present sullenness of cloud, pouring a never ending torrent of rain amidst the unending deafening roar of thunder and searing lightening, keeping all living things at a distance.
Well most.... walfrid sniggered.
First things first.... he whispered as his thoughts turned to heronborn and the chapel, the first place, he seemed somehow compelled too, drawn, driven almost, no denying, this will be his starting point in earnest.
His mind drifted on, back to a time that was very much dear to him, though he often pondered that it would have cost nought to have shown it and that he missed out greatly by not. His heart.
Come tevlon!
He heard his mother’s voice echoing out from the mists of time and smiled to himself.
Haw-haw he laughed haughtily as he remembered all those years ago.
His mother edith was a rock and as mysterious as any, never did she nag or worry and never did she have to, only once he could remember her telling him of anything of significance and that was when he was seven years of age....
Now remember young man don't tell any a body what your thoughts be and that way you will keep yourself safe.
Walfrid positively glowed at the memory....
Ha-ha what better advice could one wish to receive?
He puzzled at how some folk are so willing, nay need to give up their thoughts on just about everything.
What better tool could you give an enemy than the inner workings of your own mind.... ha-ha?
But he knew that this was not the message she intended for him, of course she did not want him to talk of such things mystical and magical, nature’s natural ways, as there was a purge against such things.
Wizards, witch's and the fay are feared a, they are blamed for anything from failed crops and drought, illness and even old folk dying peacefully in their beds.
Rewards given for information or for rooting out such creatures and this had become very dangerous for some and useful for others.
If you happened to make enemies, all it took was one finger of suspicion pointed by a rival and that could lead to one's downfall.
Edith knew what her son was and spoke of it only for assurance, to put her own mind at rest even though there was no need.
Mothers, ah mothers what wonderful creatures, nature itself, they worry because they have no worries, marvellous, hmm mothers that don't worry, apparently ha-ha!
I think they like to worry, what do you say aganta.
He patted the horse affectionately on his long muscular neck.
I do wonder who my father was old boy, don't you? Was he my brother’s father too?
He leaned forward and whispered in to the horse's ear.
My name was tevlon, he grinned broadly and sat to attention.
Not a name that belongs to this world, so the masters told, but that was many, many years ago, one hundred and eighty to be precise, later I became walfrid.
Hmm I wonder, what became of my brother rasso?
Now that is another name that does not belong, star names they said, of another world!
No wonder my dear old mother worried, our names alone were a danger. Did my brother take a similar path to myself?
He felt a little sad at the thought of his brother because they never did anything together, in fact they very rarely spoke!
Suddenly and for the first time he seemed surprised, because it was not that there was ever a fall out, he mused.
Never mind, he sighed. It was just the way it was and it was never an issue for either, them or their mother.
Were we too much alike, and with a sudden sparkle he grinned.
Are we the same, my word aganta, he could be on the same journey.
Walfrid turned and looked behind. Perhaps not, somewhere else, I do hope, doing as I do, will he answer to the name rasso! Ho-ho-ho! I don't think so!
His mood so suddenly brightened soon dimmed as he left the rocky plains west of the dorin foothills and entered the halidown forest.
There is no soul here.... he murmured. They have emptied this ancient woodland of the fay.
He fumbled in his pocket for his baccy pipe and retrieved it already lit and puffed away nervously before shoving it back without so much of a thought.
Or they have forsaken it, he gulped.
Walfrid and aganta stood on the edge of the forest for a few long moments, he did not like the atmosphere and was loathe to press on.
There are two other choices, he told himself. Over the mountains of dorin and through the many passes, or we can skirt the southern side and turn north using the eastern route.
Neither choice appealed as the first would add weeks to his journey and the other at least a month. Hmm two months if.... he corrected himself.
That's settled he exclaimed hurriedly he covered his mouth with his hand. Shush.... he scolded himself whilst looking about tentatively, we take the shorter route.
He looked out towards the Dorin Mountains and whispered. Shorter but dangerous.
He did not like the emptiness that hung about him.
The sun now was high and walfrid noted that despite being in an ancient forest the light penetrated easily.
Above him the canopy resembled that of a forest in the first few weeks of spring, when the buds were only partly emerged, or of the advanced days of autumn when woodland life begins to shut down for the winter.
Poison! Poison! He screamed silently. What have the fools done, do they know what they do?
All day he travelled and not once did he see a rabbit, deer, squirrel, boar or any other creature associated with such a place.
Nothing but the odd bird here and there, keeping at a good distance, this was not unusual, to avoid man, but to avoid or fear walfrid, well this was, to say the least unusual.
What there was plenty of, and they did not avoid him were snakes, every one of them black, black with a red stripe running straight down the middle from head to tail end.
This was a snake he was not familiar with and wondered why they did not slither away at his approach, quite the contrary, he was sure, and they actually sought him out.
Walfrid geed his horse, not because of the snakes, which at this rate would become so numerous that there would be a danger of trampling on them.
He did not wish them harm in any way for he was not sure how or why they were there but they lived and for him, first and foremost, life is sacred until proven otherwise.
Flee! Flee mystic one or you join the slither hee hee hee heeeeeeeeeee!
Walfrid stiffened and his blood chilled as the sound of hissing and echoing voices, more akin how one would hear in a large cave or a tunnel rather than the middle of a forest.
All about him they brushed past, his hair and beard swept first in one direction and then another, forcing him to cower and squeeze his eyes tight shut whilst both hands pressed down tight his hat to his head.
Be off! Be off with you.... you.... you wandering spirits... ye of no home, no host, condemned to wander for eternity be gone!
He bellowed, now standing tall in his stirrups in a show of defiance.
Ssssssssave us walfrid son of..... A sorry voice plead.
Get thee back thou lowly beast, no saviour for thee thy slimy.... a cruel harsher voice interrupted.
Who speaks my name! Who speaks my name! Walfrids voice joined the unseen rabble.
Come join us and see why don't you.... the harsher tone invited.
Walfrid shrugged as a hand fell up on his shoulder and turned sharply to find nothing but what looked to be the forest rushing toward him, he realised that all behind was closing in and catching up fast.
They mean to keep me! He yelled.
Fly! Fly aganta lest we join these stolen forgotten souls, fly boy make haste my friend!
By the time walfrid had gratefully reached the northern side of the forest, at full gallop where possible, it was well into the middle of the night.
He scanned the open grasslands that lay under the ghostly bluish light of the moons his gaze fell up on the lonely shadowy figure of a huge tree in the distance, in every other direction only the unwelcome flat empty plains.
The sad lonely tree he decided, would be as glad of his as he of it, and accepted the tree imaginary invite to bed down for the remainder of the night.
Off he set at a hurried trot leaving behind the ghosts of hallidown, safe in the knowledge that their very own haunt was their very own prison.
Having removed all burden from his horse he settled himself down, but try as he did not to, he could not help but wonder....
Who and where those spirits had come from, were they of the fay and mankind?
Some were captive and suffered while others it seemed were keepers, none the less they were all there against their will.
For a few hours he fought with his thoughts until at last sleep came and took him.
A word to the wise ain't necessary - it's the stupid ones that need the advice.
Bill Cosby
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