Diary of The Journal Keeper

Entry Number Eleven

Dear Friend,

I do apologize for the delay in getting” Skelly’s Story” to you…let me begin immediately where I had left off... (last entry)

“So-” he began, turning on the theatrical tone, “I suppose you’d be liking a story about now.”

I said nothing in response, but smiled and gave a quick nod.

“Well good, because I’ve got quite a story, just for you…”

I set down the empty plate and settled into my spot, smiling at Skelly. I glanced sidelong at Gawen, who without actually making eye contact with me, smiled and nodded his head. “The stage is yours – old bard” said Gawen.

Raising an eyebrow in acknowledgment of Gawen’s remark, Skelly took a step back from me and settled into a position, looking both formal and practiced, and in the same way sort of ritualistic.

“Well yes, in days past, a storyteller like myself was referred to as a Bard. And did you know that long ago, Bards were feared. I doubt it. Who would think I…could inspire fear?”

As I looked into his rather mad eyes, I could see how this might be.

“Nonetheless, we were feared in the old days. Oh, sure, you might run into the occasional witch” and he suddenly drooped his posture into that of an old, shriveled crone. “And, you certainly wouldn’t want to be on bad terms with her, for you never know what might happen- your crop could go bad, your child could be born mute…But a Bard…no one ever crossed a Bard.” He stood back to his full height (which really wasn’t very tall).

“A Bard could do much worse than put a nasty spell on you. A Bard could ruin your life. A Bard could make a satire of your life, and depending on the Bard, this tale could destroy your reputation among your village, and even the neighboring villages, for a story can spread like a virus, you know. And,-” Now his eyes gleamed again “if this Bard was truly powerful, this satire could take on a life of it’s own, and survive years, even centuries…and turn the poor sap who crossed the Bard into an immortalized fool.”

Skelly paused here, and smiled at me in a genuine sort of way, the kind of smile that looked neither menacing nor insane, but sympathetic.

“Now, the role of the storyteller is unique. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Shamanic medicine men in the native traditions…yes?”

I nodded as he plunged onward, feeling a bit as if I had unknowingly enrolled in some sort of crash course.

“Then you know that the role of the medicine man is to deal in the worlds outside of this one, to direct traffic among the spirits,” here he paused to mime a traffic cop ushering cars along “and to understand how these invisible things can influence our lives.

“The story teller is much the same, for you see the power of both resides in words. The only difference between you and me, and…the wild animals that inhabit these woods is consciousness. Specifically - human consciousness. And our consciousness of this world, of this universe, is really based on our measly senses…and words.” Skelly paused as he dramatically reached out to the heavens,

“Blessed be to whomever or whatever inspired Mankind to put words to things, and most importantly, eventually to write them down.” Skelly then glanced back down at me,

“You see, this allowed us to write our thoughts of today down and to remember them tomorrow and to even send these thoughts on to others…to communicate…this is real magic. This universe that we inhabit is really nothing more than words that magical individuals started assigning to things, and in the eyes of all of us, creating these things in our consciousness.”

“So it is with the story teller who must be able to tell the tales of that which is seen and unseen and bring them back in the form of words…in the form of a story. The storyteller must walk between the worlds you might say, with one foot here…and one planted firmly in the other worlds…in the ether. Of course, the adventure of the storyteller - the gold that these other realms hold, the real treasure - is the stories…and because these realms exist out of our perception of time and space, they simply wait in the stillness till there is a storyteller who has kept it alive and an audience to share it with.”

Skelly crouched down in front of me, his teeth gleaming by the firelight as he smiled. He whispered to me now, “And, the thing to remember as we take this path tonight, is that each and every one of us has our own pot of gold there waiting…and it is different for all of us…and yet some how the treasure is the same.”

With this, Skelly, who was now on one knee turned to Gawen and gave him a big wink, and Gawen in turn clapped lightly.

“Very nice Skelly, you have truly become a master of your craft…fascinating as well…but I thought you were going to tell a story?” Gawen smirked over at me. “Um…that wasn’t the story?” I responded, not meaning to giggle.

Skelly fixed his gaze upon me once again. “Story? No, that was hardly the story. Think of that as a primer…a quick way to understand the path that we follow here tonight. Do you understand me?”

I nodded my head yes, but found myself saying “No.”

Skelly laughed, “Good. Confusion is the best place to start. Don’t be afraid if you feel a bit lost, that makes it that much easier to find a new place.”

Skelly magically drew his book from behind him. (I really don’t understand how a book that thick could have been tucked away, but at this point I wasn’t really able to distinguish between what was logical or not any more.) He was right, I was feeling lost but for the first time in my life, I realized being lost wasn’t always a bad thing. Instead, I felt safe and quite exhilarated. I felt that soon I might find that something I was searching for…and a treasure no less!

I looked up at his book. It looked positively ancient. It was mere inches from my face and I could glimpse the golden outline of a tree reflected by the flickering light of the fire on its covers. Seeing as how trees seemed to be a recurring theme in my life, I wondered what this symbol meant.

As intuitive as ever, Skelly saw me staring. “Trees I find very powerful.”

I nodded as he spoke, silently mouthing me too.

“A tree can represent all of Life. You see the well-defined roots go deep and connect us to the Unseen energies of our existence in this world. The tree’s trunk suggests the here and now - this reality, while the branches reach out to that which lies outside this world, to the stars and beyond.” He grinned again at me, “You see, it is the Tree of Life...which includes all life, seen and unseen…and is exactly where our story begins.”

Skelly then turned his gaze skyward, nodding in approval. The last traces of sunset were gone, and a sky thick with stars had come out.

“Good, we can begin.” Once again catching a question in my eyes, Skelly explained. “It’s not good luck to open the doors between worlds during the daytime…” And at this point I expected another wink or at least, a smile, but his face was dead serious. “The opening and closing of doors…is a very serious matter.”

I nodded again, not quite understanding, but recognizing that Skelly saw it as very important. He opened his book, and to my eyes it seemed as though he opened it to a random page, but it must have been the right page, for here he began his tale. Skelly’s eyes fixed on me as he began, speaking in a surprisingly low, controlled voice…

“Once upon a place in a time far, far away where time was not time at all… as I was there and should know as you see that I am here before you now, for that time is nothing more than this time just long, long ago…”

At first I struggled to make sense of what he was saying, but then I thought to myself, don’t try to draw a map of where he’s going, just enjoy the trip. Being lost isn’t bad. I surrendered and let his words pour over me, like a trance. It felt as though each of his words held power, each one a paddle-stroke sending me further down a foggy, unexplored stream.

Skelly continued;

“Soooo, in that time as perhaps even in this time there stood the grandest of grand trees which rested upon an unreachable island, which sat in the middle of a very powerful river which split two prevailing kingdoms in two. As with all great and magnificent trees, its roots sat at the threshold of the doorway between this world and the deep earth knowledge proudly kept by the beings of the “Under” Kingdoms, including the blessed race known as Faerie. The Golden Age had already passed when this revered race of the Fae walked freely among man to guide and teach. For it seems as man made his choices based upon his material world, the physical companionship between Humanity and the Under-Kingdoms soon dissolved. Although the ancient oaths of guidance still remained in contact, few humans were able to see these beings at all anymore and those that did were not the powerful or well-to-do, but those who still carried the purest of hearts and the most innocent of vision. This story however, takes place at a miraculous time known by the ancient’s as “liminality.” - a magical opening when the pathway between worlds were temporarily open as the laws of interference were lifted and mysterious events were bound to occur.

“This period of grace was offered to man to restore that which had been lost between worlds and to re-establish the original plan known as The Grand Plan of Creation. This primordial arrangement would transform the Kingdom known as Beaufolia (or in the ancient tongue which meant –all that is possible) back into a harmonious blend of both the physical & spiritual. This offering was granted because of the deep love by these guardians for Humanity. They knew that of all beings, it was Man who had the greatest possibility of truly touching the Divine – to become a sort of earth-angel. In turn, Beaufolia would evolve into a universal gateway for all beings to connect to this sacred Source.

“For all the exciting possibilities, this was not a joyful time because the original Kingdom had long ago split into two distinct Kingdoms by two feuding brothers who could not reign peacefully together. Now, the great, great, great grandsons ruled the separate kingdoms - not even recognizing that they had once been all one family. To make matters worse, a great drought had parched the land as both kingdoms became desperate to survive. The Kingdom west of the great river was ruled by King Argolus and was always more prosperous then the Kingdom to the east known as “The Grimlands”, which didn’t have the proper irrigation and had to work much harder to make things grow.”

“Although the West had always fared better than the east, King Argolus had his share of problems, as a dark sorcerer had placed an evil spell over his kingdom. The sorcerer, portraying himself as a brave knight sought out to save King Argolus’s kidnapped daughter, Faylene. The kidnappers had demanded land for the life of the princess. When the fraudulent knight returned – pretending to have triumphantly saved the fair-haired princess, the king took the knave into his confidence. Convincing the King into believing that his daughter’s kidnappers were from a nearby (normally peaceful) kingdom (which was much smaller then King Argolus’s and had grown greedy for more land) - the King sent his greatest warriors off to fight! The King had no idea that the true kidnapper was really the sorcerer himself! The Sorcerer, (known as Fearisimi) then declared his true identity and his plan to take over the Kingdom. But he did not fight a war with weapons, instead utilizing something much more frightening…he cast a spell of FEAR!

“ ‘I warn you all,’ Fearisimi shouted out to the people of the village from the top of the castle wall. ‘I have placed a curse on this royal family and anyone who serves them…ALL THAT YOU FEAR WILL COME TRUE! Like a storm cloud waiting to burst, I will surround this Kingdom in gloom and FEAR!!! You will all suffer as my people have suffered!’

“Then unexpectedly, he leapt off the wall, surely to his death they thought, but not a mark was found! Convinced of his supernatural powers, all lived in fear of what this demented being might do next. Soon the Kingdom was in chaos, with many too afraid to resume their normal lives…and the drought only worsened.

“A young servant girl named Ambriel had been on the hillside when Fearisimi jumped off the castle wall. She witnessed him land on the steep embankment and could see he seemed to be holding something in his hand that had fallen out when he had landed. Desperately, he scoured the ground but knew he could not waste a moment and disappeared. After the King’s men found no body or clues and had returned to the castle, Ambriel came back to the spot herself just before sunset. Knowing just where he had landed, she looked carefully and discovered a small gold case. She knelt down in the tall grass and opened the case to find two tiny beautiful gossamer wings from what must have once been a very exotic butterfly. As the sun’s rays played across each delicate vein of silk she was entranced and had not noticed the shadow that soon fell upon her. She looked up staring straight into the enraged eyes of Fearisimi! Shaking in fear; he grabbed the case from her with one hand, while he drew a huge sword with the other. Ambriel, pulling away, lost her balance and plunged helplessly down the steep embankment into the churning, cold rage of the mighty Windrush River. Fearisimi, certain of her demise, did not pursue.”

“Ambriel, while powerless against the force of the turbulent waters did not drown. It seemed that from the severe absence of rain, the river was at the lowest it had ever been and because of this she managed to grab onto a log which eventually tumbled her to the shore of the mysterious Lovell Island which lay in the middle of the great river. Since the river had always been impossible to cross there, with deadly undercurrents surrounding it, the island was basically unexplored (except legend has it that one man named Lovell had been there long ago and it was for he whom the island was named after. His adventures were the origins of many folk tales filled with wild beasts, tiny people and mysterious forest spirits, but we will save these tales for another night!) Finding herself on its shores frightened Ambriel, but she really had no choice but to walk forward into the unknown. She was too bruised, weakened and wet to try and cross the river back again (if that were even possible), plus she feared what waited for her on the other side. Courageously, she wandered into the dark wood, losing all sense of place and time.

“As the moon rose, the dense forest was endless. Confused and fatigued, she felt like she had been walking in circles. She became desperate for some shelter so she could rest. At long last, she found a shimmering pool of water reflecting the twinkling lights of the night sky. Sitting down at its edge, she put her hands into a gentle waterfall that was to her side. She was surprised how warm it was as she wet her face. After the events of the day, she was ready to collapse and the sound of the water was soothing to her. Gazing through the glistening water, she began to think about how quickly her life had changed and what she was to do with herself. Engrossed in thought, she slowly became aware of an object shining just behind the trickling waterfall - reflecting golden in the moonlight. Surely, she thought her eyes must be playing tricks on her! It seemed as though the shimmering object was embedded into the wall of mossy green rock. She put her hand all the way through the veil of water and felt a cool metal; its shape resembling something like a cup. She grabbed the lip of it and tugged it free from its viney confines and brought it back through the waterfall. Blinking the water from her eyes, she saw it was not just a cup, but a beautiful golden goblet! Amazed at her find, she wondered what in the world was it doing there? Who had put it there? Maybe there was someone else on the island! Then again…(judging by the looks of it) perhaps someone from a long time ago!”

“How curious, she thought as she inspected the discovery. It seemed ancient and had an inscription in tiny lettering ringing around the outside lip which she couldn’t read even by the bright light of the moon. Well at least she had found something useful she thought because she was rather thirsty…what harm could it do really! So Ambriel put the cup into the water and took a good long drink. To her surprise, the water tasted sweet! She had another! The fear she had felt was quickly dissipating as a serene calmness began to overtake the terror of the day. A weight lifted from her as she felt spellbound, gazing at her reflection in the water etched by the moonlight. Mysteriously, a golden glow seemed to appear all around her and for a moment she saw herself in the water’s reflection not as the poor servant girl, but with a beautiful crown placed upon her head and fine silken cloth which fell around her shoulders! That’s when she heard it…it wasn’t the first time she had heard it, but certainly it was the clearest she had ever heard it before…The Voice…as she called it. Ambriel had been orphaned since birth and had heard the Voice off and on throughout her childhood. She had always imagined that it was the voice of her mother or her father because it had always made her feel safe. It had been a very long time, but she recognized it immediately, this time though - the message was very clear;

“Ambriel…the Kingdom rests in your hands.”

“Stunned, the golden goblet slipped from her hand and made a splash and the grand reflection disappeared, replaced by her old self once again. She scrambled off the rock and crawled under the protective branches of a nearby tree. Trying desperately to make sense of what was happening…she wondered if perhaps she had bumped her head in the fall and had imagined it all? The soft earth under the tree suddenly felt like a featherbed and she surrendered her thoughts under its shielding branches. Throughout the strange and magical night, she drifted in and out of sleep. She had enchanting visions of a grand tree, larger than any tree ever imagined. Tiny balls of light, which danced around it, illuminated each and every branch. They encircled her sleeping head and whispered lullabies carried by a gentle warm breeze. Even in her dream, she felt herself smiling for they seemed familiar as memories of being a baby in a cradle watching the dancing lights illuminate the walls of the hovel she’d been raised in. That night she slept peacefully with the security of a memory of what it felt like to be cared for and loved.

“As the sun began to rise, Ambriel’s senses were slowly awakened by the smell of wafting flowers through the gentle, warm morning air. Slowly she opened her eyes and blinked several times, not remembering where she was. Her eyes opened wider as she looked in awe of what she saw. No longer did the island resemble the mysterious place she had experienced the night before, but was breathtakingly beautiful! Blossoming flowers filled with intoxicating smells and trees laden with ripe fruit. Not even before the drought had she seen such a rich harvest! She sat up carefully, her body still quite sore from her fall into the river. She looked down to see she had been covered by large ferns that had kept her warm throughout the night. She crawled out from under the tree, not fully appreciating its tremendous size until she stood away from it and looked up. By far, it was the grandest oak she had ever seen (which now felt like a best friend who had given her a warm shelter in the dark of a very strange night.)

“Perhaps it had all been a dream she thought and then suddenly remembered the golden chalice she had dropped into the water the night before. If it were still there, then it must have been real! She ran to the edge of the pond by the waterfall and looked in…there it sat, glistening in the sunlight under the water. She fetched it out and examined it closer. Finally she could read the inscription which she hoped might give some clue to whom it had once belonged. It read:

“Drink from this goblet and trust what you hear for you shall know The Truth without Fear.”

“Disappointed, she thought it just a silly rhyme and really no help at all! She held the chalice in her hands and pondered that if it were actually true, that it had all really happened, then what had the Voice meant that she should save the Kingdom? How ridiculous! She wished she could make sense of all of it. She sighed as the warmth of the sun felt good upon her face.”

“Her thoughts were distracted by a butterfly flitting in a stream of light. She remembered how she loved butterflies when she was little because they always made her feel happy and she liked to pretend that she could fly. The butterfly rested on a leaf for a moment. The bright light clouded her vision, but it appeared to be a rather large butterfly and gold reflected off its wings. It rose again and fluttered close to her face. So close in fact, she could hear a flutter from its wings. Then she clearly heard something else,

”Princess.”

“She jumped back, and her immediate reaction was to swat it, which she did! As it fell against the ground, she moved her head out of the light so she could see it clearly. She could not believe her eyes, for it was not only a butterfly but upon its back was a tiny man and he wore a crown of gold!

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!” Ambriel said as she helped the little man to his feet, trying to brush him off and straighten his crown. He spoke to her in a surprisingly normal sounding voice (for such a little body).

“It’s alright my child; let me rest on your hand. Ambriel opened her hand and he walked up her finger and stood in her palm.

“Please don’t be afraid my dear, my name is Alverdine and I am here to help you…did you not ask for guidance?”

“She thought to herself, ‘Why yes I did!’

“He continued, ‘I know you well for I have watched you since you were a child. I am a guide for you. Tell me what it is you desire to know.’

“She told him how she had found the golden chalice and how the drink from it had made her feel different, even briefly look different…she had felt self-assured, like some great weight had lifted from her shoulders.

‘“Ahhh’, said Alverdine, ‘you drank from the pool of consciousness and had a taste of truth without fear.’

“‘Fear of what?’ asked Ambriel.”

“‘Fear of judgment, fear of being exactly who you are and doing what it is your true self is guiding you to do. Fear that what others believed you to be was what you truly were, and all you would ever be, and nothing more. After drinking from the cup, for a moment, you embraced all the beauty, magic and power that you truly are without any fear. In that instant, you felt what it would be like to wholly believe in yourself. It is a very powerful feeling, one that allows us to transcend our past and move on to do wondrous things that we never imagined possible, dear Princess.’

“Ambriel paused, ‘The voice I heard wants me to do something…but I fear The Voice and you sir, must have me confused with someone else. I am not a Princess, just a poor servant girl. How can whatever I do, possibly change what happens in the Kingdom? I have no social position, education, money or power.’

“Alverdine listened then bowed to her. ‘You may see your power to the external world as worthless, but I bow before you for I see your internal power as immense. That which has created all that you see and all that you cannot see, flows through you, dear one. The Voice, as I know you call it, lives within you. I honor the Voice by helping you, you must honor the Voice by listening and following through with your heart.’

‘It is true that in your world, to be powerful by human standards one must acquire great wealth, beauty, intelligence or physical strength. But to be truly powerful in the inner world, the World of the Unseen, this requires other things. All you need to do is to draw from this inner wealth of love and wisdom and you will be able to do things in your world that others cannot even imagine possible. Someday, the external powers that now run the Kingdoms of your world will be replaced by those who understand the tools of consciousness. Your quest my dear is to build a bridge that will join together all the possibility of your world with the truths of our world - the world of spirit and love. Together, this will command the greatest power for all!

“Ambriel took a deep breath. ‘Alverdine, I wouldn’t even know where to begin! I have no idea what the truths of your world are. I cannot teach that which I myself do not understand!’

“The tiny man smiled, ‘Your teachers will be revealed to you and will light your path. But for now, you can begin with yourself. Resolve the conflicts within you first. If there are things in your world you would like to change, look for the seeds of these things within. If you do not want to live in a judgmental, hateful world, then you must first stop judging and stop hating. The source for violence and pain in your world lies within each of you, as does the source for peace. To heal the outer world, we must heal within ourselves first, for it like a great mirror; they are both reflections of the other.’

“He knelt down in front of her. ‘The world of the Under Kingdoms and sacred race of Faerie have been awaiting your arrival, Princess. It is your destiny, for in your blood lies the seed of both worlds…you are our great hope.’ He glanced over at the golden chalice, which sat next to her. ‘Keep the cup close to you and remember - I am never far away.’

“And with that the butterfly picked him up and they flew away. Ambriel picked the cup up and read the words once again, but to her surprise the inscription had changed.

“She who shares the cup can change the world”

And Skelly slammed the book shut, walked to the far side of the fire and promptly sat on a log, staring at me. Grinning. I smiled back, glancing once more at Gawen, who at least appeared to be asleep.

"The end?" I asked in a quiet voice, feeling as though I was waking from a dream.

Skelly did not respond.

"Um, great story, Skelly. Really cool. You totally had me there, I could picture it all so clearly. I was riveted."

"I had you? I didn't have you." He shook his head, looking disappointed.

"Umm. Okay. I guess I had me there? Is that what you mean? I took myself there."

At this he leapt to his feet, pointing at me with a toothy smile. "Bravo! You had you. Yes. Yes. It's that simple. The stories. The stories. The stories. They are all in here." He rapped on his head hard enough that I heard it from the other side of the fire. "You were there because you've already been there, and a part of you has always been there. A door has opened."

"And you thought it was important that I heard that particular story tonight?" I asked.

He looked at me and answered in a very matter of fact tone. "Oh yes. There's more I will share, but you just needed this small amount...too much strong medicine can be a dangerous thing. But, undoubtedly this was just the story for you...and tonight was the night." I noticed his face had grown quite solemn as he sat back down across the fire from me.

At this moment I realized he was dead serious about the story and its importance to me. He wasn’t smiling any longer. His mood had totally changed as he pulled out a beautiful flute and began playing a rather haunting melody. It was obvious that he took his storytelling seriously, but here he seemed much more somber, like he’d done something momentous tonight.

Listening to him play, I stretched onto my back, letting the fire warm me as his melancholy song drifted through me and I thought about his story. Why was this story so important to me? What is it that he thinks he knows about me? We were virtual strangers just this morning? Yet something does feel familiar about him, like I know him, too. Even the book he clutched with its golden tree struck a chord inside me…The Under-kingdoms?... It took me a long time to fall asleep, my eyes fixed on the stars above. As I found myself drifting to sleep, I had this dreamlike notion that each star was a story, burning up there, waiting for me…and with the doors of this other realm just opening, I thought that I might be right.

JK