fantasy

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Elsa’s Song, Dec 8th 2021

Nejla sat with her hands wrapped around a fresh cinnamon scented oat milk cappuccino, in what felt like another dimension.

The Crew – her band name for Tuva, Kriya and Starlight – lay sprawled out and curled up between the crackling open fire place and the front door.

The blizzard had quietened down. Now there were just grey, plump clouds dropping snowflakes in a dancing slow motion.

Ricky sat at the sturdy wooden table across from Nejla. How she and The Crew had ended up this close to Pinehome with the train was beyond her comprehension. 

One moment they had been engulfed by the blizzard. Which was not a bad thing. There were few things she loved more than the cold wind and snow touching her cheeks. 

“Embrace! Embrace! Embrace! Align!” had travelled through her mind. As she said the spell out loud she had felt very powerful from within.

Seconds later , the sound of someone whistleing, followed by The Crew howling in reply. A black labrador appeared as the sun broke through the storm making the snow flurry dissipate.

“Dio!”, Nejla could not believe her eyes. “Dio! Where is Ricky?”

“Here!”, Ricky’s voice reached her before she could even see him approaching on skis. “Welcome to Buffalo Land!” He almost fell forwards as he swung his arms up to greet her with a hug which made the skis move backwards. “Soulsister, soulsister. So good to see you.”

“So, what really brought you here this time, sister dear?” Ricky reached for the sugar. He liked his coffee sweet to the point of it being sugar with a bit of coffee.

“The Adventurer. Storulven. Spells.” Nejla shrugged her shoulders. “Not entirely sure, but it’s definitely something to do with those three. And maybe more. I felt, and feel, instructed to take one step at a time, not envisioning anything behind those steps, just listening. I know this was big one. I had some sort of inner knowing telling me I had to go north, in the direction of White Buffalo Land. So, here we are.”

“Here we are”, Ricky echoed. “Listening to the light.”

Cecilia Götherström, December 8th 2021 

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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 9. December 9th.

Marcus picked up his pen. His writing-feather was actually a ballpoint pen adorned with a massive feather.

He’d found it in a jewelry store of all places when he was fourteen years old. His mum had brought him to that store to pick out a present from his Mormor for his confirmation. Whether religious or not, everyone in the village got confirmed. It was more of a tradition than something strictly religious. A rite of passage. Somehow, somewhere along the way the event had gotten symbolized by jewelry.

Young Marcus would rather have gone out in the woods or down to the river with Mormor herself and picked out a stone together, but mum had insisted her mum wanted to give him something “valuable” that he could “cherish” for the rest of his life – preferably in gold. Marcus had smiled to himself at those words as he knew that was mum’s wish, not Mormor’s. Mormor – and Morfar – had always taught him that nothing is more valuable, nothing is to be cherished more, than this Earth we walk upon and all of her creations.

He’d seen the pen, a huuuuge Eagle Feather attached to it, between a selection of gold crucifixes and “faith, hope and love” themed earrings.

“That one, please”, he’d pointed to the pen.

Mum had raised her eyebrows, but before she could shake her head in a no Marcus had pointed to the little marking proving it was sterling silver. A compromise well worth giving she had decided.

Here he was, 35 years later, a celebrated composer and musician. And it was this pen, this pen only which produced the magic. As soon as he touched it he was transported. Just like when he put his fingers gently on the keys of the piano.

And Star.

She had been his co-composer. 

His magic portal.

All this time.

This morning he had gone out for a 4 am starbathing walk in the snow. Something or someone had called him out of his sleep. By now he had learned to listen to those “whispers”, as he called them.

Down at the river bank he looked up to the skies. North Star. Great Bear. Orion. The Doggies.

Across the ice a misty figure came walking. As the shape got closer it seemed huge. The size of a Polar Bear. He sat down. Rubbed his eyes. It was. A Polar Bear. Should he be afraid? He’d lived with a wolf with little over 12 years, so maybe not?

The bear stopped. A few meters out on the ice still. Saying;

“May I?”

Marcus gestured to the large space in between himself and the trees. The bear settled in.

“Thank you. It was one hmmmm of a journey getting here from the dimensions of the outer banks. But now I am here, you are here, so we can better get acquainted as we need to finish that piece “Home”. The most magnificent symphony to ever grace these dimensional planes.”

Marcus did his best to take it all in. The large white bear pushed him gently on the shoulder. “Barry’s the name. Like Barry-ton.” he said with a wink.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 9th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 7. Dec 7th.

Samantha remembered the many times she had spoken to her sister Disa about stuff which just felt “weird”. Like you felt something in your gut, your mind made an interpretation of it which made you feel queasy and awkward. 

Well, right now she could not shake that very feeling.

Her thoughts took her back to a day about a year ago when she’d met up with Marcus for a coffee at the local church café – the only café in the village. 

Over two chai lattes Marcus shared with her how his beloved Star had been acting the past few days – not wanting to come all the way indoors, rather sleeping on the carpet in the hallway than on her specially built own “wolf-couch” which he had constructed for her now that she had entered her “olden” days. It was like she was halfway out of the house which had been her home for the past 12 years. Their home.

Samantha had gotten that feeling,  the uneasy stomach, the rambling legs, the itchy sitting bones, the queasiness. She knew something was not right, something was about to dawn. Change.

She’d told Marcus they’d better drive up to his house immediately.

When they arrived the front door was wide open. Star was nowhere to be seen. They followed her paw prints in the snow. Down past the barn where the three Icelandic ponies stayed during the winter nights. Then up, towards the birch forest which led to the glen at the beginning of the fir tree forest. At the start of what Marcus always called “his path”.

In the now full moon lit opening Star lay on her belly, holding her head up, looking their way, as if she had expecting them for quite some time. Her dark eyes gleaming, the first stars on the sky reflecting back.

Dusk was setting in and it was clear that Star was not well. At least that was Samantha’s interpretation.

She and Marcus kneeled down next to Star. Star looked them deep in the eyes and spoke to them ; 

“It is time for me to leave this dimension now. Merge with all the others. Do not try to follow me. I will be back one day. Maybe in a different shape or form, maybe in the same. Don’t look for me. For if you do you will not see me. Just listen. Listen inside and remember to be wild, to stay wild. Thank you dear Marcus. My soul is calling me home. Even though we have our home together there is a Home much larger than we can fathom. I will go over there and find it. Bring it back.”

The majestic white wolf stood up, licked Samantha’s hands, looked her in the eyes. Then she went over to Marcus. Put her nose on his forehead. Rolled her head to rest on his neck. He grabbed on with both arms. Embraced her. She breathed in to his ears, in to his eyes, she nudged his forehead again and said;

“Be strong my brave warrior. Be fierce. Be Love. Live your life Sacred.”

She turned around, walked with her head down in to the woods in her full wolfness, on to the moonlit Path.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 7th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2019 / Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 16th

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She was wondering. When was she Red? When was she Way? Why could she not understand the human heart?

She’d spent so much time around the village and the farms in the valley. She’d followed hikers and hunters up and down the mountain. She could feel their loneliness, their longing for something outside of themselves without knowing the button to push for connection lay inside of them. Even the ones that did know got caught up in that outside – ness anyway.

“Way”, Meru said. “The outsideness, that is when you are Red. The inner business, that is when you are Way. But actually you are Way The Red. Just like I am Meru The Grey. Just like Craft  is Craft The Black, Star is Star The White, Charm is Charm The Blue Little Pup –  who will grow up to be Charm The Great Blue Sparkle, the wolf who watches over the oceans. When all aspects come together, that is when we Are.”

The whole wolf pack lay curled up just outside the opening of the Silent Rocks.

Craft got up and said “It would be nice to stay here for a few days. Just hang. Share. Walk together. Be together. Just rest in all the different ways one can rest.”

“I am all in for that brother dear”, Star almost sang as she placed herself where she could look up at them all. “I guess the choice is Red’s. She’s the one with all the questions today.”

“We stay”, Red replied. “Just stay. Right here. It can be our base for now, right?”

They all howled, agreeing.

Wizard poked his head out through the opening of The Silent Rocks. “What’s all this I hear? Staying put here? But, but, but what about all the stories to be written, all the magic to be done?”

Meru walked across, nudging Wizard in the face with his snout.

“We will walk, we will sing, we will weave and tell and build and transmute just by being all that which we are. You’re a wizard for crying out loud! You do the magic, we do the rest”, his wolf-laughter taking over.

“Ok, ok, ok Meru, I know you know me better than myself”. Wizard laughed along. “Remaining here it is. Sharing space is the truest cauldron for magic . I am getting really excitedly happy just thinking about it actually.”

“Yohohoooooo! Whaaazzzzuuuuup!?” Blue rolled out of the cave, tumbling down the gentle slope. Dazzled, squinting at everyone with his sparkly eyes. “Did I hear the word magic?”

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 16th 2019

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Kringlans Kalender 2019/ Meru’s Wisdom, Dec 15th

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Through the raging storm there was a gentle ringing of bells, as if the stars above the clouds were doing a lightdance. The further up the mountain they got the clearer the sky, the gentler the storm.

It was really true, Dawn noticed. You did feel totally renewed, recalibrated even, after the long hike through the blizzard.

Craft stopped. He had been leading the pack the past hour. Now, as the sun was setting across the other side of the mountains, it was time for a bit of a breather for them all. Time to settle in for the eve, get burrowed in underneath either the low growing mountain birches or in the wedges between the rocks.

Blue the pup, Star and Way started to rearrange the snow at the entrance of the silent rocks as they were called. Meru and Wizard took turns moving all the fallen dry birch branches scattered around to the opening. They would make a great entrance floor as well as firewood for the human.

“Craft, why do I feel so at home around you and at the same time so fantastically in awe?” Dawn sat down next to the large black wolf.

“Dawn, dear”, he cleared his throat. This sort of felt formal and he could not fully understand why. “What you humans over and over again fail to understand is that you can only see in others what you carry in yourself. I sense that you are becoming aware of this more and more though. Like somebody has opened a huge, very heavy, thick door, letting the understanding shine through in to your being. Limitless. Belonging. Part of. Unlimited. I believe that is what you feel. That is home. And awe. Home is this feeling of awe, of limitlessness. This. What you are seeing, feeling, sensing right now.”

She looked up at Craft. The stars were out in the sky. Colours of the galaxies reflecting his being. Focused, welcoming eyes. No fakeness. Oh, how she wanted to feel like this all the time.

”It’s a matter of choice my dear Dawn. Over and over again. Practice making these choices. Every choice matters. Every choice is yours. Give that power to yourself, and you are giving it to others. Now, let’s just enjoy the shooting stars.”

How was it possible to move like this, between a feeling of despair, of being lost to totally belonging?

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 15th 2019

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No more

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He might look like a young, innocent,  devoid of experience, warrior, but he held the wrath and protection of his ancestors. They held his back, his flanks, his future. He walked in their footsteps. In his own way.

The silvery mist was coming off his cape, latched to his shoulders by heavy ornamented armour. His dragon may well be sleeping yet he felt her waking presence. Through the dimensions they were always side by side. One mind. One soul. One being.

Why was it so hard for us humans to live in all dimensions all at once? he asked himself. Why did greed, hatred, fear, possession set as if in stone in this un-magical cold, non sensing world if ours?

The world where we fought over things, countries, people without knowing why. There really was a darker force out there feeding in to all of this.

He moved his hand through his thick, blond hair. Decided then and there to never look back. To always look in to and for those other dimensions from this moment on. To notice where he was being pulled in to the dark, to notice where the scheming seemend to be winning, to notice when it felt like there was no way out.

Love. Faith. Trust. Faith. Trust. Love.
They are all one and the same force.

Faith.

Look. Notice.

Be NoBody, NoOne, NoThing. Tread the paths of the threads between dimensions. Will to see them. Want to live them. There. Bring them in here.
That is magic. That is the magic.

There is no difference between living it, seeing it, being it. It´s there. Just open the eyes. Open the senses. Feel it. Then speak.
Before that words just block.

Sense it. Then speak. From there. From that place.

His father looked over his back.
”Son, my sword is yours. It will cut through all you don´t know that you don´t know, as well as all that which stands in the way. Use it. Sense. Listen. Look. Use it from that place. Now go.”

Cecilia Götherström, October 23rd 2018