Lódrúne at the Crossroads

Creative writing by April-Anna, Feb, 15th, 2013.

Once upon a time in a place between dreams, there was a young man, du muze, he whistled his sweet sound, like the piper, he called them to awaken... He called all, friends of olde & loved ones too, he called her, he called her to awaken... Through cycles of time, he called, called them, he called so loudly that even the ancients rumbled in their sleep.... the calling... now, now, to awake....

But the spirits, they did whisper to one another, did he really know what he played with? Courage or great folly? How could this one, half asleep as he was, awaken the olde ones? So the spirits, they couldn't turn away.... and watch the spirits did, they watched as he wandered towards the crossroads...

He thought he was going to the crossroads to meet the old man, the trickster. He thought he would go and make a deal, but the old man only makes deals in wisdom,. So the old man, he talks to the olde woman of the river....

So du muze wanders towards the crossroads, with many adventures, he walks, half-sleep. The child within discovering the fire does indeed burn...

Which witch? Witch in the olde tongue means "women of wisdom", but he would not see her for the truth, for the shadows had a hold of his eyes & heart. While he was still in control, he liked the silver tongue of the shadows...  He didn't really think it would happen, he didn't really think they would awaken, but like the trickster himself, he could not help but stir the cauldron of time... Du muze wanted to see for himself, he didn't know what was real... Shadows were whispering..

Likened to the king listening to his most trusted of advisors, du muze went away where the shadows would lead him, he knew he would enjoy the journey, he said... They say you should choose your friends carefully...

So he's walking towards the crossroads, the moon is high & full. He did not see but yet he did see...The gift to see through the veil , this is not a gift given lightly. But one must trust themselves in order to see truth with clarity, when looking through the veil...

As though the children were running to the call of the piper, the spirits are whispering to one another; "Does he know there are two crossroads? One laid over the other, appearing as one? One  lies in the shadowlands, and one in the moon's fair light?"... Spirits are a whispering, one says to the other.... They wonder why he chooses the hard road, they wonder why he doesn't choose the moon's fair light?

Black butterflies are listening at the crossroads, watching at the cross roads, they hear the piper singing, they see the olde witch of the river, but they hear the moon's daughter, she awakens with a start. She does not know her  own power, and her cries vibrate silent in the night...

The black butterflies alight, flew away into the night, left the crossroads behind, left du muze behind. The black butterflies seek out the moon's daughter... She caught a midnight flower, and there was music on the wind, many musics on the wind, something sounds familiar...

She awoke alone, she thought, so she followed the sound, half-asleep, she followed the call, the calling, the calling on... She heard her own voice on the wind and the deep dark woods where the fey lights live, they found her on time, for they knew he would not meet her at the crossroads...

Oberon had left his post, following his inner du muzic, he forgot his other self, and the black wolf ate the white wolf... 

But it was alright, she couldn't remember him anyways, at least, not until later on and even then, it's fragments, puzzle pieces coming together over time... That's the problem when ancients go to sleep and there's always more to the picture then meets the eye....

Luckily, the black butterflies found the moon's daughter down by the riverside, lost in her musings...

Now there was Lódrúne waiting at the crossroads... She sees the man approaching and she smiles a wicked smile for she can see he is not pleased to see her, this amuses the olde woman. She knows what he does not. The old trickster asked her to come in his stead, he deals deals in wisdom, but not everyone likes their hand, and sometimes they don't learn their lessons...

So when the olde witch speaks, the stars go quiet and the lights dance, the moon leans a little closer, the dreams pause to listen and the Sphynx holds his tongue...

She says; "The road ahead is not what you think, do not be deceived and do not deceive yourself. While most things are not what they seem, you must have clarity to know when truth looks you in the eyes... Approach with open eyes, no fear in your your heart & you will never loose your way. Remember that the Phoenix always rises from the ashes, and in the darkest hour, this is when the light must be brightest. Carry a torch when you enter the shadowlands, pay a homage to the king & you will pass undisturbed. So stoke the fire within, light the candle, because all must carry the future forward..."

A pause, there is a caw in the night, something rustles in the woods, in the deep dark woods, spirits dancing, times unraveling, and she says; "The mysteries stir,"...

In the deep dark woods, a cry in the night, heard at the crossroads. The witch of the river gives du muze a funny look, & a deep chuckle; "Know that you do not know what you play with. For if you poke olde gods awake, do not expect to not meet them and do not expect that all will take kindly to the noise you make through time & space; while it is true, the fates say it is the time that the deep sleep of the ancients would come to an end, sometimes the messenger is not always treated kindly. Many stir..."

Lódrúne continues. "Once they are awake, they do not go back to sleep, they do not stay idle. Do not stir the cauldron of time if it is pure mischief or curiosity; your intentions must be pure or it will come back to bite you. Have honour, and if ever you loose your way, know that tomorrow is a new start, you can always come back to the crossroads, there is always a way back to the beginning, though it will never be the same. If you meet the olde man, wise & crafty, he will speak in riddles & tongues, he will lead you down the wrong road,  promising a good time, but be careful when following olde tricksters.... Even those dealing in wisdom."

Once upon a time goes on and on...the tale isn't finished, as she shakes off the cobwebs of sleep, the moon's daughter has lit the candle, She Who Dreams is weaving the web, the story never stays the same...