A year…
How distant the days, never so
distant my thoughts.
My heart’s pace gallops to the
whispers caressing my slender elven ears.
The whisper on the wind, the rustled voice in the leaves, and the
message in the song of birds – there is no mistaking it.
My green eyes glisten in the
fading daylight.
A smile quivers upon my
lips.
I comfortably sigh.
Unquestionably, the words reach
my ears of a returning, an invitation, and a call to arms. The cocoon of silence surrounding
the halls is shattered. It crackles with
renewed life, with renewed fervor. Darkness
is replaced with light.
I breathe in the energy of his
presence; he has returned.
The song beckons the dance; my patient partner awaits.
Black Ore earrings, necklace, and
rings compliment the white Majestic leather armor. Braids of a Silver Ranger are clasped by the
clan crested broach. A silver quiver and
a White Lily hairpin complete the preparations.
I glance at my partner, bound by
the soul, and I smile. How often have I
thought of this? How eager, yet
hesitant, I find myself – the time has approached. I slide my delicate hand along the inside of
the arrow-tipped brace until I firmly grasp the handle. I gently caress the slender, curved upper
limb of my Soul Bow and reminisce about the many dances we shared.
I stand anticipating...
Summon
me...
*********************************************************************************
Change
Change. As inevitable
as it is, by one’s own intentions for purposes advantageous or detrimental, we
take her hand to be led in such direction.
Change. That which
happens as often as the wind, happens within the blink of one’s eye and as life
itself as a whole, seems to pass us by unnoticed but yet when looked back upon,
has changed us.
Change. The type that
resides within the inner depths of our minds; always present, always keeping
itself known by just the slightest amount, but so easy to push aside so as to
surprise us when it does happen. Whether
good or bad, reluctance sets the pace.
As I sat, atop the last hill, along the northern shore of
what was the original Talking Island, I clutched Isidrel’s letter - tighter
after each read and cursed his words - and I reflected upon all three forms of
change. Surprise quickly overtook me
upon the realization that if not for change, I would not have been able to call
the Council of Light a home.
I sat silent allowing the warm wind, from behind, to wrap
its comfort around me - wisps of hair tickled my cheeks and tugged the corners
of my lips to a smile. My heart eased
from its burden and provoked a single tear, but not due to sadness.
No, for if it was not for change I would not have meet those
that I have. And perhaps, this home we
shared, even for a brief moment in our lives, was meant to be so, because
perhaps that is all that was needed to take change by the hand one more time
and be led toward another path.
And in this moment, wrapped in the comforting warmth of the
wind, in a place filled with the ghosts of generations past, I let change take
Isidrel’s letter from my hand and she carried it far and away upon her winds
until all I could see was the place where the sea and sky marry to become a
single entity. Excitement filled my being
as I looked all around and wondered, from the perspective of this crossroad,
and as I raised my hand for her to take, where will change take me?
-- Dendrielle Okkoppii Azures
*********************************************************************************
A Returning
The nagging feeling that has...well...been a distraction the
past few days, months actually, finally garnered enough attention. I look up
from my book and glance at the arched wooden door of my room. It is not the
door. I deliberately looked at it so I would not look where I should. It is the
first wardrobe closet in the corner – the one I have not opened in months.
I sigh and stare blankly in the wardrobes direction, trying
not to allow those thoughts to creep and burrow into my mind – but that is
futile and I knew it the moment I gave in and looked up. A part of me begs to ignore it, cover it with
a sheet. Hide it. Disguise it.
I sip my tea and hesitate to put the cup on the table. I
take another sip, somehow feeling better, somehow feeling like it is the right
decision. I rejoin the cup to its saucer on the table and unfurl my legs from
underneath me until my bare feet touch the cool wood floor.
I push myself out of the cushioned chair and lazily walk to
the wardrobe, pausing before it. I place my hand on the door, slowly circling
my fingers across the smooth finish of the cherry wood. No, I am not deliberating
my decision, just reacquainting myself with an old friend. My hand slides down
to the bronze Bordeau lever. A soft push down on the curved handle – I have
always liked how effortless the handle and door move – and the door swings open
on its own accord as if welcoming me back.
I smile.
There, just as I left it, cleaned and mended, hangs my
skirted Leather Incubus armor. Its
matching helmet on the shelf above. The polished high-heeled boots sit at
attention on the floor beneath the armor and the Gloves of Incubus folded
neatly to their right. Behind it all, leaning to the right, my Soul Bow with
its intricate designs pronounced by the sunlight sneaking in behind me.
A tug at the drawstrings and lowering my shoulders, the red
satin robe nestles around my ankles. The leather armor is cool on my skin and
as I add each additional piece; knee-high boots, elbow length gloves, and
finally the matching helmet, their magical enhancements reverberate through me.
Oh how I have missed and unknowingly, until now, longed for that feeling. I sling the Mithril quiver over my shoulder
and tighten the strap. Finally, I reach in and grab the bow – which has not
graced my hand in too long. Like taking
the hand of a loved one I have been away from, my heart races and my spirit is
lifted. It is lighter than I remember. I
have missed her.
I walk back to the table and finish my tea. I catch my image in the mirror atop the
vanity table and I enjoy what I see - female, elf, Ranger. The black leather
armor with its grey designs contrast well against my fair skin. As I reacquaint myself with the bow, I
swiftly pull an arrow from the quiver, spin, and plant it in the middle of the
door.
I smile.
I leave the arrow and close the door behind me.
I stroll through town until I reach the chamber that houses
The Council of Light and stand before the twin heavy wooden doors - decorated
and laden with black wrought iron hinges, braces, bolts and lock. I stand
silent, lean forward and listen, but I hear nothing. I am both saddened and relieved.
Relieved due to the uncertainty of how I would be received after such an
absence. A turn of the skeleton key and
a loud clank of the lock allows me to push open the doors revealing the dark
interior of the hall.
The lighting stick flares to life as I hold it near the wick
of an oil lamp on the central round table of the hall. I walk around the table,
pausing at each chair, reminiscing about each member who sat there: Isadrel,
Cerridwenn, Janelle, Merithwen, Amaethila, Numil, Aelathamar, and others. Good
times, sad times, sitting by the fireplace, singing, laughing, talking, and a
lot of eating.
I end my visit with a quick glance at the names written in
the journal sitting on the round table, dip the quill in the ink and simply
sign my name...
~~ Dendrielle Okoppii Azures
*********************************************************************************
Once Again, Change Has Taken My Hand
I once again found myself sitting alone on the northern
shore of Old Talking Island. The
gradient purples of the eastern horizon were speckled with the evening’s first
stars. The breeze, warm with the ocean’s
fragrance, lulled the sounds of the exploration areas. I sat against a lone Oak atop the hill and
the breeze danced my hair around its rough bark entangling individual strands. My eyes welled with tears and when I would
look skyward, an occasional droplet would begin its trek down my cheek only to
succumb to the warm breeze before it could escape too far.
Our world is confused.
I beg to ask if Shilen has her hands in this. Troops of new and young warriors march
through Talking Island, Gludio, Dion and every other village, town and
city. They work as if with no emotion,
taking over our lands and reducing the need for those of us who rely on the
hunt to provide for ourselves. They are
guided by an unseen hand and relentlessly and tirelessly do their bidding for
whomever their master is. Trying to stop
their action is met with swift retribution by those unseen to us. Sadness and frustration is in our time, and
with such times, come the loss of those we trust, love, look to and count on.
In my hands I held my latest correspondence from Cerridwenn
and Merithwen with their decision to…to pass on to another realm. It is a bittersweet time. Bitter due to the loss, and yet, sweet due to
their new adventure.
It was not too long ago that my brother and sister met a
similar fate, yet in their case it was not of their decision. None the less, they found themselves where
Cerridwenn and Merithwen now travel – Aelae’s Paes or in common tongue, Eva’s
Dream. And I can smile on that thought.
Aelae’s Paes is a world created by Eva during a time of
turmoil in her life. It is a place of
peace she uses to escape and a place for all souls that have disconnected with
earth. All of the living beings were
created for comfort and companionship. The
wind is her voice as she sings and recites poetry. Everything that will surround these two was
created to offer music to accompany her songs.
As beautiful and grand as the Garden of Eva is, it pales in comparison
to Aelae’s Paes which is nothing more than a small and simple globe hidden
inside a satchel which Eva carries with her.
Here they will know the brilliance of the sun like they have
never seen and cleanliness in the air that is both freeing and
exhilarating. The fields seem like
endless waves of green with ripples of colorful flowers. The towns and cities marry an elfish flair
with the surrounding nature. They will
delight in the peace her world offers.
Change. She once
again has taken my hand and once again, as with Isidrel, I let her take
Cerridwenn’s and Merithwen’s letter from my hand to guide them on their
journey.
I am sure I will see them again whether if be here on earth
or when my time has come and I take my leave of earth and travel to Aelae’s
Paes and then, I too, can delight in what my family and friends have
experienced.
Until then my dear Cerridwenn and Merithwen, be well, take
care of each other and safe adventures.
~~Dendrielle Okkoppi Azures
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