The Italian sun was lazily strolling across the sky, sending his rays down to bake the land. It was a hot day and everything was still and sleepy. Everything? No, not everything.

In the middle of a parched field a bizarre sight awaited the curious observer. Not that there were any observers. It was too hot to be doing anything, even something as undemanding as observing. Especially if it involved walking around in the middle of the day under that sun.

But if there was an observer, they would surely notice that in the middle of the field there was a bright red heart. Nine swords of all shapes and sizes were attached to it, pointy side in, and it was bleeding. Now that was quite strange. But it was not the strangest thing about this heart. The strangest thing about it was that it was still beating.

The sun continued steadily on his journey towards the zenith. And then it was noon. The church bells of the nearby village started to ring. The pulse of the beating heart became stronger and stronger and the embedded swords began to twist and turn like living things, their colour turning duller, their hilts melting and taking on different shapes. I’ll spare you the details… let’s just say it was messy. But when the echo of the last bell toll drifted away, there was no heart and no sword anywhere in sight.

In their place there was a young man. He was tall, slim and extraordinarily beautiful. If you had been there, you would have noticed that everything about him was perfect. It would indeed have been hard not to notice, given that he was, in fact, naked. Perhaps that’s not entirely true though. He did after all have a violin. He calmly looked around. His gaze focussed on something briefly and he seemed satisfied. He turned to the south and lifted the violin. He started to play.

And then everything changed. The sound coming out of that violin wasn’t like anything you have ever heard. It started as a simple slow tune. And then it became faster. And bigger. And deeper. It swirled and swelled, it jumped and dived. It did things no violin song had ever done in those parts before. It wanted to be noticed. It was calling out to someone.

Someone appeared over the small hill the man was facing. It was a woman, followed by a few sheep. Her clothes were simple, but at least she was dressed. She was young, though not as young as he, and seemed flushed and a bit sweaty. In her defence we have to say that it was a hot day after all and she had been climbing a hill… but it wouldn’t be the whole truth.

As she walked towards him, she had eyes only for him. So she didn’t notice the changes taking place all around her. She didn’t see the grass turning greener and taller, she paid no heed to the flowers springing out all around her bare feet. She was enthralled, lost in the music, her body and soul captivated by the musician.

What happened next I’d rather not describe in any detail. But I do wonder how the music didn’t stop, since the musician’s hands were fully occupied elsewhere. It was late afternoon when the shepherdess set off again. They must have had exchanged some words, because soon after she returned to him with clothes, a horse and some coin. Where she found them I don’t want to guess. They seemed too valuable to have belonged to anyone in her own household. At any rate, she must have thought their afternoon together had been worth it. Or she was still bewitched. Her eyes were bright and her smile wide as she waved him goodbye.

The musician rode on, through the night and well into the next morning. If any bandits or thieves were tempted by his rich attire, they did not act upon it. Perhaps it was because he was often playing the violin or whistling. A strange peacefulness surrounded him like a cloud the whole way.

Eventually he reached a palace, set on top of a gentle hill. He stopped in front of a tall gate. There was no guard, no handle and no bell. The gate was made of seven wicked looking swords, a huge golden lion’s head towering over them. The musician got off the horse. He stared straight into the lion’s eyes. If you were there, you would have sworn the lion stared back.

Will you not ever give up? How many times do you want my swords to hack your body into little pieces and pierce your heart? Will you not ever learn?

The voice had the weight and texture of old bronze, if such a thing is at all possible. But the musician did not flinch.

‘I want to play on the Worldbuilder’, he said cheerfully, with a hint of defiance. His voice was sweet and rough at the same time, the kind of voice that stirs passions and awakens secret desires. ‘You know I will not give up. I cannot give up. Every time you tear me apart I become stronger. My desire can only grow.’

The swords rattled and the whole hill trembled with the lion’s roar.

Your desire? The Worldbuilder is not a game. It was not made with your satisfaction in mind. It is a powerful tool, dangerous in the wrong hands. Your hands!

Then there was silence. The musician was not perturbed. He just thought it wise not to say anything at that point.

So what do you plan to do if I let you near it?

The musician did not believe his ears. He could sense the lion was not as absolute as all the other times he had managed to get this far before. He would let him play! But he had to convince him first. ‘Words cannot fully explain’, he started. ‘I wish to express my joy, my love, my appreciation to all that is, was and will ever be… I know you can stop me. But please let me play. It is not true that I have learned nothing. Every time your swords hacked away at me, they took away some falseness, some pride, some imperfection. They taught me pain and they taught me truth. They taught me life. Every time I came back purer, stronger, more real. I now only have one wish. I just wish to play… for the sake of playing. For beauty and fun and life!’

Nice try. Humility doesn’t suit you, you know. But it seems you have actually learned something. You get one chance. If you mess it up, you’ll beg for the mercy of the swords.

The swords parted then. He walked through the gate and into a garden. In the middle stood the Worldbuilder. It was massive, yet delicate, every detail perfect, carved with patience and dedication. He trembled with anticipation. He tentatively touched one key. There were no observers allowed here. But if they were there, and if they weren’t totally bemused and distracted by the all other wondrous things going on in that garden, they could have seen an apple tree bloom at the pressing of that single key. With a feral smile, the musician applied himself to the task of making the best music of his life.

Images from the Lo Scarabeo Tarot of the Master (Vacchetta).

]]> http://sylal.wordpress.com/2008/05/25/the-musicians-wish/feed/ 0 Sylal http://sylal.wordpress.com/2008/05/09/queen-of-what-and-where/ http://sylal.wordpress.com/2008/05/09/queen-of-what-and-where/#comments Fri, 09 May 2008 02:10:36 +0000 sylal http://sylal.wordpress.com/?p=57 ]]> Once upon a time there was a girl. She was like other girls, vain and silly, sometimes timid, others stubborn. But she was also kind and funny, strong, witty and strangely wise. She was, to put it simply, a girl. She liked to wander in the forest and play with the pixies, the rabbits and the trees. And she liked to dream… a lot. In her head whole stories and plots would play out; fairies would dance and trick innocent young men, dragons would save the fair maidens and burn the wicked witches, valiant heroes would go on dangerous quests and return victorious and attractively battle-scarred… you get the picture. She would also put herself in the stories, often as a princess or a wizard’s apprentice, or both. Why not? Anything is possible, she would say to herself and chuckle.

Time passed, as time is wont to do. The girl was growing slowly and steadily, like a sapling turning into a tree. How do you know when it stops to be the one and starts being the other? She branched out to new knowledge and dug deeper roots enriching her experience of life, both in the city and in the forest. Because the girl may have loved the forest, but came from the City of the Moon. The city held unique wonders of its own, some dangerous and gritty, some tantalising and fun. Her heart was called to the forest’s song, but her belly kept her tied to the city and its complex challenges.

The city people were different too. They cared about Status and they cared about Appearances. But they talked about Magic and they talked about Love. The oaks and the foxes on the other hand talked about Rain and Wind, Light and Night and it was indeed these things they truly cared about. The girl was inquisitive and liked to talk about Everything. She talked with the city people about Magic and she talked about Love and, while she also read Fear and Arrogance in their eyes, she chose to believe their mouths. She could see flowers in their hearts after all, even if they surrounded the blossoms with thorns.

The girl believed in Stories, you see. She thought that stories were real and that real things happened like they did in the stories. In all the stories she liked, things would progress in a million different ways, but always end in the best and most appropriate way possible.

And then the girl got to have a Story of her own. One day she was approached by one of the City Elders. They were greatly respected and sometimes feared by the city people, because they held Power. She was given a Token and she was told one day she would be Queen. Now this was a story worth living! So she thought and got really excited and a bit nervous. ‘I don’t deserve to be Queen’, she would worry. ‘Queens are beautiful and wise and strong… I’m not really like that! Oh, but it would be so lovely!’ And she dreamed and she made stories, she danced and sang her news in the forest.

But the tree people, wise as they were, were more cautious. ‘Do you trust the Elders?’ they would ask. ‘Do you trust the Moon’s games and reflections in the pond?’ The girl would listen and she would ponder. Because she had questions of her own. ‘What does it mean to be Queen?’, she would often ask herself. ‘What does the Queen do? How does she talk? How does she walk? Does it mean I will have Power and Status? Do I really want this?’ And on and on. She had seen that look in people’s eyes, the Hunger for Power, and she found it ugly. She had seen fake smiles and heard hollow words. But she knew that really what the city people suffered from was Thirst for Love.

More time flowed. The girl grew some and learned some. More curiously, she started to glow. It was the light of the secret flower blooming in her heart. And many city people started to notice, even though they knew not what it was they were seeing. Because the girl had decided. To be Queen means to Love. They gifted her with smiles and kind words, they listened with respect when she spoke. She was surprised, because she didn’t see what they saw. But she thought ‘I must be doing something right!’ and she was pleased.

But the whisperings of the city people and the whispering of the leaves in the forest brought unsettling news to her ears. There is Dissent among the elders, the news said. They do not agree and fight amongst themselves about who should be Queen. There was talk of Politics. The girl was upset and confused. She was hurt.

She fled to the forest and started avoiding the city. ‘I don’t understand!’, she would exclaim to whomever would stop to listen. ‘I thought I was doing the Right Thing!’ The squirrels would usually mock her and she found little sympathy from the trees. ‘Why are you complaining, silly one?’, they would say. ‘What is it that you really want? Why do you care if you’re City Queen? Are you not happy here with us?’ And, truth be told, she was. She had never asked to be Queen. But now the seed had taken hold of her heart, it had grown into the secret flower, its roots entangled with her veins, its leaves strangling her like poison ivy. The flower and her were one and she did not know what to do with herself. So she decided to do Nothing. ‘I do not like Politics’ she would tell the birds, ‘and I do not want Status. I want to share Love and Laughter and bring Light in the city people’s hearts.’ The birds did not seem too impressed by this, but she did not understand why. So she busied herself with the goings on in the forest and she waited, more and more reluctant to face the Moon City’s games and trickeries.

One day a reluctant wind brought the news to the remote corner of the forest she had taken the habit of calling her own. ‘There is a new Queen on the Rose Throne’, the news said. ‘She is a beautiful Queen, strong, wise and kind. The people will be happy’. The girl did not know how to react to this. She thought of her long journey, ever since she had been given the Token. She thought of the new Queen. She liked her and would not begrudge her her happiness.

‘Well, so be it then’, she thought. ‘I never really belonged in the city of Illusion anyway. I am happier here in the forest’. The trees frowned, as only trees know how to do. ‘How about your big aspirations, flighty one? Were you not set on sharing Wisdom and Love? What have we been teaching you for if not to share your lessons?’ The girl hung her head in shame at that. ‘But they don’t want me! They have rejected me! What would you have me do?’ Even trees have limited patience confronted with such lack of insight, so they said no more.

The girl wandered the forest, lost in thought. ‘Who am I?’ she asked herself again and again. Her steps brought her to a lake, where a majestic big cat was drinking water. She greeted the cat and the cat greeted her back affectionately. ‘Look in the water’, the cat said. Curious, she did as she was told. She saw a woman with big eyes and wild hair, full of little twigs and tiny blossoms caught in the long tangles. She stared and stared… When did the girl become a woman? She looked up startled.

‘So’, said the cat. ‘Have you found your answer yet?’ ‘I’m not sure I have even found the question…’ she replied, subdued. The cat looked her straight in the eye and she was captivated by the powerful stare. The cat’s eyes showed her yet another reflection of herself. And suddenly she felt the strangling leaves loosen their hold, become gentler, light and caressing. She felt the flower in her heart finally open in full bloom. And she knew the answer and the question. ‘Queen of what?’ she shouted laughing. ‘Queen of where?’ I am Queen of myself and that’s all I need to be! A wild spirit, free to run as I please in the forest, the trees are my friends and the birds my councillors! Thank you, sister cat!’

The wandering queen spoke to the trees again, looking a little sheepish. ‘I think I understand now’, she said. ‘The city’s games are not for me. But I still care for the people and I want to share what I have learned. Though I don’t need to be City Queen to share with them Light and Love!’ The trees sighed a sigh of relief and lost a couple of leaves in the process. ‘There’s hope for this one yet’, one of the birds observed quietly. She turned quickly trying to locate the source of the remark, but they all seemed busy preening their feathers.

A few city people had found their way through the forest looking for her. They wanted to know about the birds’ song and the trees’ whispers and they were looking at her with wonder and expectation in their eyes. She smiled, oblivious to the bright glow of her heart’s blossom. She realised this chapter of her story was finished. And it had indeed ended in the most appropriate way possible.

Images from the Lo Scarabeo Universal Fantasy Tarot.

The air had turned thick with moisture, she realised and opened her eyes. A soft mist was rising from the Sacred Lake. The gentle song of the waterfalls and the happy calls of the frogs filled her ears and it was like balsam for her soul. But at the same time she felt distinctly uncomfortable, like she always did when she came so close to the heart of the Realm. She was startled when she felt the Queen’s call in her head. Slowly and gracefully she approached the Lake. The Queen was waiting for her.

‘You have grown, Child.’ Her voice was sweet and gentle, singing in harmony with the symphony of the waters whispering all around them. ‘The waters told me it is time, I have been expecting you’. The young dragon was confused by this, what did the Queen mean? She didn’t know she was coming here herself, how could the other know? And how did she speak inside her head? She had never heard of anything like this before! ‘You have something to tell me?’ asked the Queen.

‘My Queen…’ she began, uncertain how to continue. But then all her frustration, her anger, her pride flared up and fuelled her with determination. ‘My Queen, I do not mean to be disrespectful. I mean, you are very kind and our home is beautiful and haunting. I enjoy life, sometimes I am at peace and just flow with the waters and the winds. But I am not really happy here. I do not feel like I belong. The other maidens don’t like me, when they mock me my anger blinds me and I treat them badly and I attack them with claws and hot insults. The long nights depress me, the mist dulls my skin and the Moon drives me mad! What is wrong with me?’

The Queen’s silvery laugh echoed on the hills. ‘Child, there is nothing wrong with you. It is time for you to receive your Name and know your self. I know it has been hard for you. Of all the Queens, your training is the most difficult. I was the lucky one, but my husband the King has told me all about his own years of training and I have some understanding of what you’re going through. Are you ready for this?’ The Queen paused and looked deeply into the young one’s eyes. She saw bewilderment mixed with hope. ‘My Name? I get my Name? Queen? What…’, her thoughts leaped and danced around, none of this made any sense, but she was excited. The Queen looked deeper, penetrating all veils that concealed her soul. She seemed satisfied with what she found and continued. ‘Your Name is Farsilian. Say it’.

‘Farsilian.’ The word grew and echoed in strange ways, vibrations flowed through her, awakening new and mysterious sensations. She felt power rush down her tail and out of her wings, her head filled with strange whispers. ‘Look into my eyes, Sister, and know your heritage’, said Waylan. ‘Waylan? Where did that come from? It’s the Queen’s name… But how do I know that?’, she thought, more confused than ever. ‘Look into my eyes now and all will be revealed, including this’, she felt the Queen’s voice in her head. She sounded amused. Farsilian looked into the other dragon’s eyes and the world disappeared.

A whirlwind of images and sounds overwhelmed her consciousness and she lost track of time as her destiny unfolded and her true identity started to become clear. Like a dream half-forgotten, ancient knowledge was awakening inside her. She learned (remembered?) about the Four Realms, their rulers, their special skills and traits. She understood how they all had to train and know their hearts before taking up their positions and she reflected on her own experience. One image dominated all others though, of a place hot and dry filled with golden sand and fiery mountains, the brilliant light of a great Sun dominating everything. Her heart filled with joy. She knew, that’s where she really belonged and she yearned to be there, she burned with an intense desire. Abruptly, she found herself back next to the Lake.

‘So now you know, Sister.’ Waylan smiled. ‘It is time for you to go home. We’ll still be able to talk in our thoughts when you’re there. All Queens can. You’ll hear from the others when the time is right. You are taking a bit of Water with you in your heart, it will always be there. Don’t forget that and don’t deny it, it is a part of you. You are Fire’s connection to this Realm and it is of great importance to keep it alive. This is the secret of our Realms, we carry a bit of each other in our hearts. If it fails, our balance will be destroyed. Now go.’ With these words Waylan spread her wings and the movement created a strange bubbling whirpool out of thin air.

Farsilian hesitated only a moment, enough to thank the Queen, and then she was through. Waylan was left alone with her waters and her frogs. She smiled. It was about time there was a Fire Queen again. That land was getting a bit too dry for her taste and their King was getting restless. She chuckled to herself when she imagined that meeting. The young Queen was in for quite a ride…

Images from the US Games Dragon Tarot

Darzul finally took off, leaving the dark forest behind. He flew high and low, for a day and a night, always heading south. He could feel something tugging at him, something strange and alluring, a sense of excitement growing in his belly. When the sun was dipping low in the sky at the end of the second day he knew he had reached his destination. He was in an endless seeming empty plane, no trees or flowers anywhere in sight, only some low bushes and wild grasses. Incongruously, a bunch of torches were burning near some rocks. He wondered briefly who had lit the torches, as no one seemed to be around. He approached.

A single red ruby was hovering in the thin air, a little distance above the ground. It was huge and glimmering, slowly revolving and emitting a strange humming sound. He felt the ruby’s song and his heart leaped with excitement. He knew the ruby had called him there. He spoke. ‘Who are you? What is this place? Why have you called me here?’ He half-expected the ruby to answer, it felt so intelligent, so alive. Instead, the jewel started to glow and projected two rays of light upwards, forming a large V. ‘Look inside’, he felt the words in his mind. An image was starting to form.

He saw a place that seemed familiar and soon realised it was his home, the winter forest from whence he had come. A vast amount of energy was swirling in the centre of the image, which cleared to reveal a majestic dragon hard at work. He could not tell what the dragon was making, but he knew it was something wonderful and unique. He peered hard into the haze, trying to make out what the work was, but not matter how hard he tried he could not see. The image glimmered and slowly vanished, leaving him alone with the ruby.

‘What was this? Who was this amazing dragon? What was he making? Please, I need to know, I need to see!’, he begged of the ruby. ‘You know who the dragon is’, the answer formed in his mind. ‘I cannot tell you what his work is. I can only tell you this. You will accomplish nothing if you keep flying this way and that, drifting aimlessly like a child. You have great strength and magic in you. Will you squander it on the winds?’ Darzul suddenly found himself alone on the desolate plane. The torches were gone and so was the ruby. He thought he understood.

He took to the skies again, his mind deeply engaged in thought, a single purpose driving him for the first time. He knew he had to go back home. He understood now, there was no point in seeking random quests. He needed to find his own unique work. He didn’t know what it was, but the ruby was right. He was not a child any more.

Images from the US Games Dragon Tarot

On some nights there were other things out loose on his watch. Things that knew when and how to move silently. Things you wouldn’t want to meet on your way back from a secret meeting, be it for plotting wickedness or sharing kisses. Some of the secret wanderers of the night never made it back from their wanderings.

One night the King sat upon his throne. He did not do this very often, for it was a special throne made out of bones. If you sat on the throne you eventually became part of it. Every previous master of the castle was there. His twin aunts’ sculls were next to his ears, his grandfather’s above his head. The King closed his eyes and consulted with the throne. He learned about the lazy guard and the secret meetings. He learned about the plots and the secret betrayals, the passions and lies of his people. The King sighed. It was hard being king when you could see everything. But he continued, because he knew that something more dangerous was out there. Something ancient, long asleep, seemed to have awakened. That night the King sat on the throne for a long time. When he got up he sent for his sword and armour. And his face was fearsome to behold.

The next night the King went out alone. He returned at the breaking of dawn, his sword dark with blood, his face white like a candle. The guard was found hanging from the gate. The after dark traffic ceased for a long while after that and so did the disappearances. But that was not all. Everyone was sure something else had happened that night, something that changed the King for ever. No one ever saw him take his armour off again and he spent a long time in the throne room not wanting to be disturbed. Eventually he followed the fate of all the masters of the throne, which grew a little bigger.

Today the castle lies in ruins. No one knows what happened to the throne, or at least they dare not tell. But they do say that if you go there at night, which is not recommended, you may one night see the figure of a guard. If that happens you should turn away and leave immediately praying for your life. Because they say that the guard’s real punishment was to stay for ever bound to the castle and warn us when the ancient evil appears again…

Images from the Magic Realist Press Bohemian Gothic Tarot

Gilloe sighed and left the scholar’s dusty room. He hated being a horse. He just wanted to find the damned portal and go home. He hated being stuck in the ridiculous little world, he hated Inastra’s riddles and, most of all, he hated being a horse. He should never have agreed to that bet, what was he thinking? At least he had found the Cup. He smiled as he remembered the funny tavern keeper back at the Nine Chalices. He was lucky to recognise the tavern keeper’s prize cup for what it was, his ticket home, complete with instructions on how to get to the gate. A souvenir from a great foreign Lady, he’d said. Ha! Lady indeed… He really hoped the scholar would make some sense of the riddle his ‘lady’ had left for him.

He gathered some edible looking plants and made his way back. Thankfully the man had found a probable looking location that wasn’t too far away. He thanked him, shared his soup and set off. The first obstacle was a mountain, as they often are. He galloped and galloped, moving ever upwards, with the cup always in his hand. For the first time, he started enjoying this little adventure. There was something about the way the air whispered in his ear, the way the ground gave way to his strong hooves. A sense of freedom he hadn’t felt for a long long time… His mind drifted as the miles fled behind him. It was dark and then light and he still kept going. It was getting dark again as he reached the fortress.

He knew this had to be the one. It was just like her to put such a thing in his way. He heard laughter and music coming from inside. He could smell food cooking and drink, and impossibly, the delicate fragrance of female flesh. Oh yes, this was the place. Here he would find the Key. Now which door… He didn’t really fancy any of the snake ones, or the one with the crown. The ones with naked women on them were probably hiding the nastiest surprises. Oh yes, the flower one. Too obvious? He hoped not. He hoped he had guessed the theme right and she was feeling romantic. He entered.

It was morning when he finally stumbled out of the tower. He hadn’t thought it would be so hard. The fortress had been… interesting. Every room enticing, every corner hiding something deliciously seductive. It was a miracle he managed to remember he was looking for the key at all! And when he came upon it, he almost missed it, hiding in that woman’s hair like that. He congratulated himself for having been so resourceful. Flattery gets them every time. ‘Oh darling, you have such beautiful hair, why keep it restricted with that pin like that…’ Disentangling himself from her company had been more challenging. If he didn’t have the suspicion she was watching, he might have stayed a bit longer. But now off to the forest to find one of those blasted birds and learn the Word.

As he came deeper and deeper into the forest all his tiredness started to slip away. The sounds of the trees and the little creatures gave him comfort. But he couldn’t find any birds. Not that he knew what a phoenix would look like. But for now that didn’t matter as there were no birds around. He started getting really annoyed, then anxious. And then he saw the hunter. A bird was hanging from his shield, looking rather dead. ‘Hello mate. Can I ask you something? That bird… it wouldn’t happen to be a phoenix, would it?’ The hunter didn’t look very friendly. ‘Yes it is.’ Great. He spent hours looking for one and this guy had gone and killed it! ‘What do you want a phoenix for?’ He felt a bit silly, but decided to answer anyway. ‘Well, I was hoping to ask something…’ He fidgeted with the cup, not really wanting to get into details. ‘Right. Ask something. Try your luck with this one then. I can get myself another down the road.’ He took the bird and offered it to Gilloe.’But… it’s dead! Are you mocking me?’ The hunter started laughing and he didn’t seem so grim any more. He seemed very amused in fact and that annoyed Gilloe quite a bit. He didn’t get the joke. ‘Dead… Hehe… Well, it’s a phoenix, isn’t it? It’s bound to come back any moment now. It won’t be happy, that’s true. But they’re pretty cranky birds, the only way to catch one is to kill it. It comes back to life pretty quickly, but in a very bad mood. So you must have it all tied up. Then you can ask it whatever you want and it will answer in return for it’s freedom. Here. Take it. And tie it up well, they’re pretty strong. And they have a nasty beak. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ He took the bird, thanked the hunter and continued on his way. How was he supposed to know that? Anyway, he was close to his goal now. He had all he needed, now only needed to find the Gate.

The bird came to just as he was reaching the place the scholar had described, a rocky plain scattered with ruins. As the hunter had predicted, it wasn’t very happy. But he explained what he needed to know and begged it to tell him the Word. ‘I’ll then set you free and we can both go home! Please tell me what I need to know!’ The bird stopped trying to separate his flesh from his bones and considered this for a second. ‘Ok then. The word you’re after is scale. You need to say it as you turn the key. The place you’re after is round this corner here. Now let me go!’ So he did. He’d had more than enough of this world. He turned round the corner, his eyes searching eagerly for the Gate. He couldn’t have missed it. It was huge and dominated the landscape with its cold presence. The central wheel glittered in the morning light.

He approached it and started looking for the way to activate it. There should be somewhere to put the key… He found it. As the mechanism came to life he looked up with a crooked smile and said ‘Tip your scales for me, love! I’m coming home!’ The wheel started turning, slowly at first and then more rapidly. Mists covered the doorway and the landscape disappeared. He walked through.

She was waiting. She was pleased, he knew, but she wouldn’t show it just like that. He realised with delight that his horse body was gone at last.’The horse thing wasn’t funny.’ She smiled, indicating that for her it kind of was. ‘Remind me never to bet with you again. What was the bet about anyway? You can tell me now! I’ve won!’ She was looking at her scales with interest. She didn’t look perturbed. That made him worry a bit.’I did win, didn’t I? I’m back. And I didn’t fail at anything, I don’t think. I found the Cup, and the Fortress’, he squirmed there a bit but kept going,’and the Word and the Gate. My heart is true to you. I passed the tests and I came back. ‘

Inastra put her sword aside.’I've been watching you in my scales. You gave them a good dance, tipping back and forth. They wouldn’t stay still. Your heart is strong, but flighty. They went up, then down, filled with light, then with darkness. You felt happy racing up the mountain, but sunk in despair when you couldn’t find the bird. Your faith is not constant. It’s a miracle you ever made it back here at all. I won’t even go into the business with the fortress… You stayed in there for three days and didn’t even realise! But it’s true. You found your way in the end. You are true to me. Fancy having another go at the wheel? Got some new worlds I want to try out.’ She smiled wickedly at him and reached for the hilt of her sword. ‘No more rides on the wheel, please!’ He really felt like resting for a while, pondering on his last adventure. But then he noticed her smile. It was a smile of Challenge. And he smiled back. Oh no, here we go again…

Images from the Lo Scarabeo Universal Fantasy Tarot.

He is almost there. He’d been walking for days, travelling through rough country on treacherous roads, fighting the ghouls and monsters the witching men had set on his trail. They’d seen him coming in the waters of their pool and knew his purpose. They don’t want him to reach the tower, he knows, and he is expecting an interesting welcome. They wouldn’t leave anything to chance with the critical moment approaching… But now he can see the outline of the tower already, candles in its dozens of windows flickering against a sky turning blood red. The eclipse finally begins and the bone drums of the witch doctors sound the call.

Dreamghost is singing. It can feel him, oh so close, and that gives it strength. And as the sky turns darker and the singing louder, the wreath starts to glow and screech, but it still holds. Dreamghost knows he is fighting the demon guarding it and sends out its song to him.

Finally the sky turns black and the sword raises its song, it reaches out to the winds and meets Gaia’s dream as her sister casts her shadow on her face. ‘Set me free’, it whispers to her in her rare moment of sleep and after a moment the wreath uncoils like a snake and drops to the floor. It’s free!

His shadow appears like a great eagle on the vast chamber’s wall as he walks through the door. ‘Hello Dreamghost’, he smiles. ‘I’m here to take you home. She’s waiting for us.’

Images from the Lo Scarabeo Universal Fantasy Tarot.

‘Oh will you shut up already’, said one of the cats. He could never tell them apart, not even before the Accident.

Stippel wasn’t feeling exactly great either. She heard the heavy footsteps approaching with increasing frustration and dread. ‘Oh no, here he comes again.We’ve been stuck in this dungeon for days,need to get out of here pretty soon or I’ll loose it completely. I must retrieve my Blade from this lunatic beast.’ She had been weak at first from the shock, but she had recovered now and she’d had enough of this.

She stood up and closed her eyes, felt the blade and reached out to it. She concentrated on the flow of energies through the air, beyond the stone walls… As he entered through the door he looked up to see her tall shadow towering over him. He was still busy being surprised by that when she reached out and took the Fireblade in her hands.

As the blade burst into flame and warmed her face, Stipp thought of the forest. She heard the rustle of the wind through of the leaves and the song of the river, she tasted the sweet smell of wild flowers. A dizzying sinking sensation filled her as time and space dissolved. She opened her eyes and found herself standing in front of the stone altar in her grove. But she was alone, no sign of Flort or the butterflies.

She did hope they wouldn’t retain their altered form when they came back to this dimension. The butterflies as cats would be ok, she didn’t really mind that. But Flort as a demon… And it would take days before she had the strength to do another working like that.

‘Hey Stipp, you did it babe! I can’t believe we’re back! Have you seen Dogface yet? Oh, there he is. Hey dog, you wouldn’t believe what happened. I was turned into a purple thing! Where were you? ‘

‘His grasp of the situation is admirable as usual’, said one of the butterflies and the other one giggled. He never could tell them apart. He swatted at them playfully and turned back to the slightly sheepish looking dog. Stipp smiled and wondered again how that fool Flort managed to get her Fireblade and use it to play fetch with Dogface. What happens when a dog activates a powerful reality shifting device? Trouble is what happens. Accident, he said. Ha. The man is a walking accident.

Images from the Lo Scarabeo Universal Fantasy Tarot

There is a meadow next to a river, far to the west from here, near the Naked Mountains. In the spring it’s full of dandelions and bunnies, the wind blows softly and the insects buzz around all day long. It’s a pretty and peaceful meadow and if you happened to walk past, you wouldn’t notice very much happening at all… unless you knew the secret of the song. Because if you knew, and if you managed to be there at just the right time, you would witness the Passing of the Trumpeter Swan.

As you well know, all the creatures in this land have a soul, folded up neatly and tucked away deep inside their being, so that they won’t lose it. Some time ago though, there was this young proud swan that almost lost his and that’s where our story should rightfully start. Swan was cruising along one day and next to a river he met this old witch. He was a curious and friendly fellow, so when the witch started talking with him he happily chatted along, curious to know about magic and the nature of things. At some point the witch said: ‘Say friend, do you know what souls look like?’ He thought about it for a second and said: ‘Not really, no. I can feel my soul, I know it’s there but I haven’t got the faintest idea what it looks like.’ ‘Well, then’, laughed the witch, ‘you’re a nice enough little swan and I’ve enjoyed chatting with you, so I will do you this favour and reveal your soul, so that you know what it really looks like! Give me one of your feathers.’ Our young Swan was a trusting guy and very curious by nature, so he did. The witch pulled a bit of string from her pocket, tied one end on the feather and one on his leg and then gave him a curious little trumpet and asked him to blow on the feather. So he did.

A moment later, a tall young man with a bewildered look on his face has standing next to the river, a bit of string coiling around his ankle, joining him to Swan. The witch suddenly reached out and cut the string, the other end now in her hand. A feeling of profound pain, loss and grief engulfed Swan. ‘Fool’, she grinned wickedly,’ your soul is mine now!’ And she reached for the trumpet. But swan, despite his suffering, was quick. He hit the witch on the head with the trumpet, grabbed the string and took off, up and away. He still had his soul, but it was for ever separate from him, he could not put it back.

They travelled long and far, Swan and his soul, and they became a wise and powerful shaman. They still had the trumpet and every now and then they would return to that meadow next to the river and they would play the trumpet. All the creatures there would then unfold their souls, and the souls would come out to dance and be free for a few hours, unencumbered by flesh. There were no strings, because Swan’s magic was natural and good and all were free to do as they pleased. When the party was over they would blow on the trumpet again and everything would go back to normal, the secret never to be revealed.

One of these times, a little flower girl called Dandelion brought out her soul to dance with the others, while the Trumpeter Swan and his soul were resting next to the river. But it was spring as we were saying before, and the bugs were buzzing, and the birds were singing… and Dandelion’s soul raised her eyes to Swan’s soul’s eyes… and she was in love. ‘Noble Swan’, she said simply, ‘take me with you’. ‘You are fair and kind, Dandelion’, he replied,’but I cannot do as you ask. My path is lonely and wrought with danger and you are delicate and would surely perish. Besides, I would love you deeply and want to spend the rest of my days with you, but you would soon turn into a fluffy clock and fly away from me!’ But Dandelion was a stubborn little creature and her love was true. So she hid away and when the trumpet sounded again she covered her ears so that she wouldn’t get tucked away again. She found an old turtle shell and turned it into a pot, put herself in it, and when Swan flew away she followed on foot, guided by the star of her love.

She caught up with him deep in the forest, sleeping. He had been in a fierce battle with a mad black stallion and was in very poor shape indeed. Dandelion wasn’t looking that great herself, flowers aren’t really meant to be going on long journeys, so she planted herself next to him, took care of his wounds and fell asleep. Swan woke up in the morning to find her next to him. He was angry, but also secretly pleased. For he had been really lonely all this time and in spite of his words he had fallen for Dandelion too. But that was not all. He had a curious feeling, that he couldn’t place, a wild happiness, like coming home after a long time. And then he realised what it was. He thought long and hard while waiting for her to wake and by the time she opened her eyes he had reached a decision.

‘Dandelion, my love’, he said, ‘you and me are so unlike, it’s impossible for us to be together. There is one way, but it requires a terrible sacrifice and I’ll understand if you don’t want to go through with it. As you know, my soul was separated from me and I though we could never be truly reunited. But I was wrong. I know this wise man, he lives high up on a tower not far from here. He once told me that true love would make me whole again. And he was right! You didn’t just heal my surface wounds last night. You healed the rift between me and my soul! This man knows a way to turn us inside out permanently, we’ll have human form, but I’ll always be bird inside and you’ll be flower. I’ll miss the skies and you’ll miss the sun and the soil. But it’s the only way.’ Dandelion did not hesitate. ‘Let’s go to him! I love you and I don’t care what shape I’m in!’ So Swan picked up Dandelion and flew to the wise man’s tower. They were transformed and united in marriage and lived happily ever after.

Images from the Lo Scarabeo Universal Fantasy Tarot.

‘Do what?’ asked an amused deep voice.
‘Who’s there?’ The magician was almost trembling now.
‘All you have to do is look and you will see’, was the answer. So he did. A purple wine dragon was rising gracefully from the cup bubbling happily and fixing him with a powerful ruby stare.

‘So’, the dragon said. ‘You called me and I came. What now?’
The magician was sweating. ‘I don’t know! I can’t think! I’m too scared, I never expected it to work!’ He felt a bit foolish now, but actually the dragon didn’t look that scary on closer inspection and the fumes were starting to clear.
‘Ok, don’t worry, we’ll work it out together’, said the dragon. ‘My name is Darwina. And you are?’
‘I’m Merlin’, said the purple hat.
‘And I’m John’, said the man behind the hat. ‘You’re a girl?’
‘Nice to meet you both. Now, how can I help you?’
‘Errr….’, said the magician.

‘Please, let me handle this’, said the hat. ‘Darwina, nice of you to drop by, we really appreciate it. Let me explain. John here is a very inquisitive fellow. He always wants to try things out, to know more, to play around and understand. But he’s not very focussed and often acts impulsively and haphazardly. I try to help him out whenever I can, but frankly, he’s a handful. He doesn’t understand his own self and his own power. You have any ideas of how to help him out?’

‘Oh, I see.’ The dragon looked quite amused, some more bubbles escaped while she mulled this over. ‘I can take you both on a journey’, she said. ‘If you agree, of course. There is this castle I know, which hides many and wonderful secrets. Perhaps John will find what he seeks there.’

‘But I don’t know what I seek! That’s the problem!’ The magician had forgotten his fear in his indignation. ‘I’m not sure I want to go’, he whispered to the hat.
‘It’s ok if you don’t want to’, reassured him the dragon. ‘It’s merely a suggestion. Perhaps you’ll find there what it is you seek.’

His infernal curiosity was now tugging at the magician, urging him to go. ‘Oh, all right then’, he started saying. But before he had finished, the dragon was leaning forward and pulling him with her inside the cup.

Everything was spinning and lurching and being everywhere and nowhere at once. ‘Now remember’, he heard the dragon’s voice. ‘The castle is a magical place. The usual rules do not apply. Follow you heart and your hat and you will be ok. Talk to the people you’ll meet, but don’t believe everything they say. I am sure you will find that which you seek if you’re determined and brave.’

The magician realised with some relief that his feet were on solid ground once again. The air was cold and strange sounds filled his ears. But he couldn’t see anything. He started to panic again briefly, but the hat said: ‘Why don’t you light the lamp?’

‘How do I do that? What lamp?’ said the confused magician.

‘Just say, Let There Be Light’, said the hat with a tone of resignation in its voice.

‘Let There Be Light!’ said the magician. And he realised he was holding a lamp in his hand, a lamp in fact his grandmother used to have when he was a child.

He was standing on a stone stairway in a stone castle. There were stairs everywhere in weird and impossible angles, and wooden ladders, and many creatures and things besides.

‘Don’t be overwhelmed’, said the hat. ‘The castle will try to confuse you.’

‘Hahahaha’, boomed a laughing voice. ‘So I will, so I will, my little friend. Welcome to House Doom!’

‘Don’t mind them’, said a little voice. ‘They like to play with words and change mood all the time. Mood – Doom, get it? They actually love visitors, no one has been down here for a long long time. It gets a bit boring, they feel neglected and turn up some foul moods.’

Startled the magician looked around to locate the source of the voice. A little brown furry creature with bright eyes was standing on the step below him.

‘Oh’, he said eloquently. ‘And who’s they?’

‘Why, the castle and everything in it, of course! You should know that already!’

Indeed he did know that, he realised with some surprise. Strangely, he felt at home. Like he’d been here before…

‘I’m searching for the thing I seek’, he told the creature. ‘Have you seen it by any chance or know what it looks like?’

‘Hmm, not really. But that fellow there might.’

The magician then saw a weird orange bunny-like creature. ‘Uhm, hello’, he said.

‘Greetings to you, oh mighty wizard of the light!’ said the orange creature.

He looked closer. The creature was blind. Well, that explains it, he thought. I’m no mighty wizard, but a blundering fool.

‘You are wrong’, admonished the creature. ‘My sight is deep and true. Ask your hat and it will tell you. Hello Merlin, old friend, you haven’t been around here for a while…’

‘Hi there Mojo’, said the hat. ‘Got any info for John here? We’re just visiting, but hopefully we won’t be strangers now that John has found the way.’
‘Ask the Book, it’s all in there’, said Mojo. ‘Beware of the salamander.’
The ladder leading to the Book was old and rickety and broken and standing at a very weird angle and didn’t look safe at all. The salamander was lurking behind an old piano nearby, that piano looked very familiar too.
‘There’s nothing to it’, thought John with force. ‘I must reach the Book. I must learn what it is I seek and, once I know, where to find it!’ He blinked.

The Book was hovering in front of him.
‘Hello’, a voice said inside his head. ‘You are ready. I have been waiting for you to ask. So ask.’
‘What do I seek?’ asked John.
‘Don’t you know?’ answered the Book.
‘Hey, that’s cheating!’ protested the magician.
‘Let me put it this way’, said the Book. ‘Do you know where you are?’
‘Yes. In the House of Mood.’ He was proud to know something for a change.
‘Correct. And where is that?’ continued the Book.
‘Errrr….’ said John.
‘Let me give you a hint. It’s in the Belly of your Mind’, proclaimed the Book.

John thought about that for a bit. ‘So… what I seek is in myself… At least now I know where to find it, even if I don’t know what it is. But I still want to know what it is! Please tell me Book!’
‘I cannot tell you’, said the Book. ‘But if you look inside my pages you’ll see.’ And the Book fluttered open.

All of a sudden the magician was afraid to look.
‘Go on’, said Merlin the hat. ‘What are you waiting for? Here’s your chance!’

‘But I’m scared, I’m not ready, what if it’s something horrible, what if it’s stupid or fake or unworthy!’ wailed and cried John. ‘And if I find it what am I to do next? This has been my purpose for so long! I’ll be lost without it! My life will be empty! I’ll be a failure and a fraud!’
‘Now now’, said Merlin the hat. ‘Remember what Darwina the dragon said. You need to be brave. Look inside your heart. What is it that you want?’

John the magician took a deep breath. And he looked inside the Book. And what he saw was an image of a great wizard, beautiful and surrounded by light. Something in his face seemed familiar… And he realised with a start he was looking inside his own heart. And the wizard was himself.

Images from the Lo Scarabeo Fey Tarot

But one day, one of the young men of the flower people called Red, found a wondrous object while out on one of his frequent wanderings riding his faithful squirrel. It was a powerful magical talisman made of pure gold. Like Starlily, he was restless and wanted more out of life, so he thought this was surely a sign. Now Red was not a bad person, but he was a bit prideful and rash and always thought it mightily unfair that his people should be so small and their neighbours so big. So he spoke passionate and convincing words and filled his people’s heads with images of splendour and glory and told them they should be the ones ‘ruling the earth’, not their clumsy and melancholic neighbours. Then he used the talisman to make them all big. But they immediately realised they could not be happy like this, they missed the protective flowers above their heads, their mounds the squirrels, and the herbs they traditionally ate were now too small and could not sustain them in this size. So Red used the talisman again to make everything in their natural habitat bigger! But there was not enough room. And the monstrous jungle grew bigger and bigger, swallowing the trees and the bushes and driving the frightened animals away. And it still grew and it got out of control and Red could not stop it. And it reached the rocky plains of the stone people and threatened their homes. They were scared and sad to see their wide airy home being swallowed by this jungle and they cried and they lamented and they prayed for help.

Our girl, the Starlily, was on the beach at the time, feeling the wind on her face and thinking about the mysteries of life and the order of the world. She heard the cries of the stone people and ran to their aid. ’Oh beautiful star maiden’, they cried, ‘you’re big and strong and brave, won’t you lead us into battle against the evil flower people?’ She was much upset by this, because she was peaceful and loving by nature and didn’t want to hurt a single soul. ‘I cannot do the thing you ask’, she told them. ’But I want to help you and will try to think of a solution’. So back down the beach she ran to wash the jungle mud out of her hair and clear her mind. She was lost in thought and not knowing at all what to do when she heard a deep powerful rumbling sound and looked up to see the Master of the Ocean, riding his beautiful and proud sea serpent and coming her way. She shared the problem with him and explained her unwillingness to use her own enormous strength to do harm. The ocean lord laughed and said: ’Why don’t you carry the stone people to a new place to build their homes?’ ‘But the jungle keeps growing’, she said, ‘and it will take over the whole world!’ He laughed his deep watery laugh again and said ‘Don’t you worry about that!’ So Starlily took the stone people away to a new place, carried in a big flying ship and fuelled with the power of her star. She helped them build new homes on a beach near a plain wider and airier the old one and their homes were even more beautiful than before and the stone people were happy and sang their songs in the wind.

Meanwhile, the Master of the ocean gathered up the waters around him and he built a big strong wave that broke the land and separated the peninsula and turned the jungle into an island so it could spread no more. The flower people were starting to realise their foolishness by now and felt pretty uncomfortable and rather ashamed to have disturbed the balance of their world and to have caused such trouble to their neighbours. So the talisman they could not control they gave to the ocean lord and cried and begged him to make them small again. ‘I was wondering were this little trinket had gone…’ mumbled the lord to himself. So he made them small again. But the forest was gone and the animals and birds had fled the island. ‘I should leave you like this to learn how to live with the consequences of your rash actions!’ he told them sternly. But he shouldn’t have misplaced such an item, he thought to himself. He did actually feel a bit responsible even though he wouldn’t le the silly flower people know that! So he eventually brought back the forest, but left them isolated for a long while longer, until they had learned their lesson.

Starlily watched this exchange with great interest and with her keen ears heard the lord’s comment to himself. She thought long and hard about everything she experienced on the planet and realised that strength and power are not the same thing and that both should be used wisely. She also learned about the beauty of natural balance and why it’s important to be happy with your place in this world. She thanked the ocean lord, waved goodbye to the flower people and the stone people, the trees and the birds and all the earthbound creatures she had come to know and love and she took her star back into the skies to shine her love and light into the expanses of space and bring warmth and life to the worlds, happy to have gained wisdom and have found peace with her own place in the universe.

Images from the Lo Scarabeo Universal Fantasy Tarot