The Prophecy

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The Prophecy Page 20

by Karen MacLeod-Wilkie


  He passed the plate, and each chose a date. They took time to admire the deep color and the earthy aroma the dates offered. As they bit in, the sweetness flooded into their mouths and they remembered Evander’s words.

  Next, he passed the cup. “The cider is sharp, reminding us of the challenges we face, but the various spices within it remind us of the variety of gifts we bring to the situation at hand. May you accept its poignant flavor and appreciate again who we are, individually and together.”

  Matthias coughed at the sharpness of the cider in his throat.

  Nicole said, “Yummy,” which broke the seriousness and brought smiles to their faces.

  Evander guided them to a closing blessing. He invited them to join hands in a circle around the fountain and to raise them up.

  “We release the pain we’ve each experienced into the cleansing waters of creation, allowing goodness to guide us and to overcome our fears. We affirm the power of what we can do together.”

  Matthias was surprised at the slight tug he felt in his bones, as if the places they’d been broken were truly letting go of scar tissue and pain. He brought his attention back to Evander’s instructions.

  “Now, I invite you to gently squeeze the hand of the person to your right, sending your blessing and support to them. Receive through your left hand, the blessing sent to you.”

  Each felt the power of that sharing moment.

  “Even as we let go our hands, we continue to be a part of each other. Blessed be.” Evander released the hands he was holding, and the others followed suit.

  The group gathered up the supplies and Treena reminded everyone that in a half hour they were to meet under her leadership. Until then, they could wander the gardens or spend the time as each one preferred.

  As they descended on the exercise room, Symba offered the new folks clothing she’d culled from Isleen’s and Quillon’s wardrobes. Once in comfortable attire, Treena led everyone through a series of movements that opened up tight joints and released tension they’d been unconsciously holding in different muscles. Feeling very different from the state they’d been in earlier that day, the group gratefully moved to the kitchen for a celebrative supper of pizza. Who knew what the next day might bring, but they felt stronger and more hopeful.

  Nicole was exuberant as she spread her pizza toppings over the crust Bernard had supplied. “You made the crust?” she said. “From scratch? I didn’t know anyone did that anymore. Can you teach me how?”

  Bernard grinned and offered to go through the directions with her while the pizza was baking. Symba decided to make sauces for the ice cream, to be enjoyed later. Evander wanted caramel. Matthias requested a fruit sauce. Brigid begged for a hot fudge sauce. They dug out nuts and sprinkles, cherries, and coconut, so everyone could have fun creating their own combination. Quillon went to the wine cellar and brought up beer, wine, and a non-alcoholic ginger beer.

  Bernard and Nicole drank the ginger beer. Bernard shared that he was a recovering alcoholic, but he didn’t mind if they drank alcohol around him. He simply requested they not put any pressure on him to join in.

  He supervised Nicole as she mixed up a small batch of dough so she could have a hands-on experience with the recipe he’d written down for her. Symba watched from the stove, and the others sat at the table and enjoyed the teaching moment. When they were ready to set it aside to rise, Bernard suggested that, rather than shape it into pizza dough, which they didn’t need, the same dough could be cut into strips instead. He suggested they shape the dough into pretzels which they could brush with butter and salt or cinnamon.

  The aroma of pizza and the sauces had everyone salivating as they waited. Symba set the fruit and caramel sauces aside to cool, and she placed the hot fudge on a warming burner. The pizzas were hauled out and placed on cooling racks. They sat around the table in anticipation.

  Bernard shifted in his seat a bit and then spoke. “I wanted to thank you for opening your wings in my presence. It felt like a gift… holy, almost,” he said, fumbling for the words to express what he was feeling.

  “It was difficult at first, but it felt right to share,” said Nicole.

  Quillon turned to Evander. “Thanks for creating that ritual. I felt it enriched our connections and level of trust. If we’re to move forward, we’ll need that solid bond to keep us strong.”

  “Can we have pizza now?” Nicole begged.

  The others burst out laughing and leapt from their chairs to fill their plates.

  They stuffed themselves with pizza and then took a break to shape the pretzels onto a baking sheet. Bernard advised they put them into the fridge overnight, so they could be enjoyed fresh out of the oven in the morning. All agreed because they wanted to save room for their ice cream.

  Nicole pleaded for a game to supplant their unhappy memories with some pleasant ones. They decided on charades. Matthias declined, but stayed to watch. They laughed their way through the evening, trying to guess each other’s antics. While Matthias didn’t join in the belly laughs, the occasional smile did grace his lips.

  The ice cream was delightful, and Bernard licked his bowl clean. It was decided that an early evening was in everyone’s best interests. Pajamas and a change of clothing were sought out for the new guests. Nicole asked if she could watch a movie to help her fall asleep. Treena was curious about movies; there wasn’t such a thing in the Fairy Realm.

  Nicole was astounded. “How can you not have movies?”

  Symba took one of Quillon’s many laptops to Nicole’s bedroom. She and Treena piled into bed with Nicole and lots of extra pillows to watch Nicole’s favorite: Pitch Perfect.

  Treena was quickly hooked. She shushed the other two if they started to make comments. She didn’t want to miss anything. Technology certainly had some perks, she thought to herself.

  Matthias asked Quillon if he had any books, because he loved to read. When he saw the library, his jaw dropped at the jam-packed bookshelves. He waved Quillon away and spent a half hour perusing his options. He narrowed it to three. One book Matthias knew would be a light read by a familiar author. The other two were new and looked intriguing.

  Evander and Brigid were eager to have some time to themselves. They decided a soak together in the spacious bathtub would be relaxing before sleep. Water sloshed over the edge from the waves they created! They needed extra towels to mop up, but it was worth it.

  Gradually, the house quieted, and its inhabitants drifted into dreamland. Not all dreams were happy ones. Nicole jolted awake once, her heart racing as she dreamed about her boyfriend being taken. Bernard tossed and turned, longing to feel his wife in his arms again. Matthias slept restlessly, reliving memories of pain. Brigid murmured and tensed in her dreams, not quite coming awake. Evander soothed his hands over her body, easing her back into a deeper sleep. Quillon dreamed of scrolling through computer sites with headlines screaming, “Houston family disappears,” “Shortage of Welders and Stone Masons,” and “University Student Missing”—his worried brain created more and more.

  ***

  Matthias and Quillon were first up in the morning. Neither spoke as they moved around each other to put on coffee and to boil the kettle. Quillon pulled the tray of pretzels out to warm on the shelf for a final chance to rise.

  After a cup of the freshly dripped coffee, Matthias felt up to speaking. “Do you have any oatmeal? I could make up a pot.”

  Quillon showed him the pantry and left him to it while he washed berries for a topping. He also selected bacon and eggs as an alternative or for a second course.

  Matthias spoke again as he stirred the oatmeal. “You’re fully human, yet you’re putting your life on the line for us?”

  “Yes,” replied Quillon.

  “Why?” After his recent experience of humans, Matthias was suspicious of ulterior motives.

  “I believe what’s happening is wrong. In my mind, no race’s well-being should be placed above another’s. My mom died of motor neuron disease and my da
d got involved in this research movement, thinking it was going to end suffering like hers. He’s blind to the suffering that’s being generated by this movement. I’m not. I decided to do something about it.”

  Quillon slid bacon on a grill pan into the oven.

  “You mentioned your work on computers. What exactly have you been doing?” asked Matthias.

  Quillon shared the story of how he got involved, and his work changing identities and making connections between races. When Matthias wanted to know more about the prophecy, Quillon suggested the rest of the story was best shared with everyone present. Matthias agreed to wait. Gradually, the rest of the crew meandered in. Some appreciated the oatmeal and berries; others preferred the bacon and eggs.

  Once everyone was present, Quillon mentioned Matthias’ questions. He retold the story of how he and Symba got involved in helping protect people and filled in the specifics that hadn’t been revealed the previous day.

  “You mentioned a fairy prophecy yesterday and how it pointed to each of you becoming involved in this mission. Would you be able to share the actual words of it with us?” asked Bernard, clasping his hands around his mug.

  “When we met with Gerarda, she revealed a dwarf prophecy you may know. There are some connections between the two. Let me retrieve the dwarf one, which I wrote down so I’d remember all of it. I’ll share both in case the others don’t know it. Back in a moment.” Evander pushed back his chair and hurried out of the kitchen.

  They refilled coffee and tea mugs as they waited. Once he returned, Evander shared the dwarf prophecy first.

  “When the stone and metal we wield turn against us, retreat.

  When a connector reaches across the barrier, unite.

  When the stones fly and confusion comes, remain strong.

  When the sword sounds and the stone burns bright,

  the time for action has arrived.”

  Treena picked up the tale of what had happened when they hiked to meet with Gerarda and discovered Gerarda’s son Rebel firing off stones. She described how her own sword had chimed, and how the stones on it and their knives burned brightly in the dwarf cave.

  Bernard nodded. “I know that prophecy. We responded to the warning of the first part and began to retreat in recent months. I was just too slow.”

  “It could be Quillon is the connector reaching across the barrier of the human–dwarf divide, or it could refer to Brigid, Treena, and Evander coming through the barrier between our Realms,” said Symba, her foot tapping restlessly against the floor as she tried to sort it out in her mind.

  “Whatever the exact correlation, the latter part seemed to be unfolding as we met. Then, it led us to the rescue mission and to all of you,” Treena said.

  “What about your prophecy?” Matthias gestured with his hand toward the scroll in Evander’s hand.

  Evander carefully unrolled it and read:

  “When the Healer rises and the Priest falls,

  the time of prophecy arrives.

  When the Sword gleams to protect the Scroll-Bearer,

  the prophecy will strengthen.

  When the Rock trips the Dancer,

  the prophecy moves forward.

  When the Player seeks the Mind,

  the prophecy will be empowered.

  Together strong. Apart broken.

  Cross and mend. Begin again.”

  “How do all of you fit into that?” Nicole wanted to hear their story again so that she could match it up with the prophecy.

  Matthias listened attentively to Evander’s explanation. Then, he spoke. “We don’t have a prophecy, but the shapeshifter elders tell a special story to each generation when we first claim our second form. Would you like to hear it?”

  He looked around as the others nodded with curious expressions on their faces.

  “In the beginning, the Creator encouraged the unfolding of wondrous diversity throughout the Universe. All was created in balance and harmony. Each plant and creature contributed to the beauty of the whole. As one expressed energy, another absorbed it. As one manipulated energy, another celebrated it. Differing shapes, differing gifts, all were shared for the good of the whole. The Creator was so delighted with all that was created that the Creator entrusted the creatures with all that had been made. For many years, life was shared joyously between the creatures, until fear found its way into their minds and hearts. What if there wasn’t enough energy to go around, to last into tomorrow? Creatures began to seek ways to hoard the energy and to claim it for themselves. Questions arose about who was more deserving of the hoarded energy. Whose gifts were most important to support? The creatures began to divide themselves, to claim territory, and to fight. The Creator experienced great pain, because the Creator was a part of every aspect of creation, and when creation divided, the Creator was torn apart. When opposites are honored and division is overcome, the mending will begin. Creator and creation will be One. Apart broken, together strong, begin again.”

  “There seem to be connections between the three prophecies.” Brigid tapped her fingers against her lips as her mind sifted through all that had been shared.

  “Until the past few years, I always thought this story from the elders referred to the importance of accepting our alternative form and learning to respect the gifts of each of the different shapeshifter creatures,” Matthias said. “Now, I wonder if it means more. There seems to be mystery and complexity as well as connectivity as our prophecies unfold and intersect.”

  “Is there anything similar in the human tradition?” Treena asked Quillon.

  “I’m not aware of any prophecy per se,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Didn’t you take elective courses at college on philosophy and religion?” Symba reminded him. “Was there anything in those courses that might apply?”

  “The only thing that readily comes to mind is a teaching common to many of the human populations of this Realm. It varies a little bit around the world, but the gist of it goes like this: Do to others as you would have them do to you, for you are a part of each other and as you harm one you harm all,” said Quillon.

  “That’s the teaching, and yet all of this harm is being inflicted?” Brigid found it hard to absorb.

  “The problem with teachings of any sort is that they can be twisted in many ways. If someone believes our teaching refers only to the human population, then they don’t see any wrong being committed. Or if a person sees their loved one suffering from disease that another population’s blood or DNA could help heal, then you could view them as causing harm if they refuse their help.” Quillon paused.

  “Is that what you think?” Tension radiated throughout Mattias’ body.

  “How can you ask that, with all Quillon’s done?” Symba jumped up from her chair.

  Quillon reached out to grab her by the hand. “It’s okay Symba. I understand Matthias’ need to question, especially after what he’s been through. He’s just getting to know us. It’s important to be honest and upfront about what we’re thinking and feeling.”

  Quillon turned to Matthias and continued. “I don’t support that interpretation, or the propaganda circulated using that approach. I believe the teaching I shared applies to us all, but it’s challenging. Just consider, if we judge others who are imposing harm and resort to the use of our weapons, even to protect one another, we become part of inflicting harm on someone.”

  “This discussion is making my brain hurt,” said Nicole, leaning her head into her hands.

  Evander nodded as he looked around at the others. “The situation is complex and carries weight. We need to choose carefully the roles we play and the actions we take.”

  “I’d like a break to allow time to process this,” Treena said. “We need to keep your bodies moving to help your recovery. It seems strange to say this, given our conversation, but we also need to work on our hand-to-hand skills and weapons training.”

  “Actually, being better able to defend ourselves and improving those skills me
ans we’re less likely to seriously harm anyone who tries to attack us. Being clear about the intention behind our actions is also critical. Am I striking from a place of hate or a longing for revenge or desire to protect or…?” Evander trailed off as he stood up to take his dishes to the sink to rinse.

  “Hard things to ponder, my friend.” Bernard rubbed his hand over his face. He stood up and groaned at the stiffness in his knee. “Treena, I’m with you, I need to move. I want this knee stronger.”

  “Let’s meet in the exercise room in fifteen minutes. An hour together will be enough of a challenge today. We want to gradually increase the effort without overdoing it.” Treena grabbed her dishes and the milk to return it to the fridge.

  “I’ll load the dishwasher and put it on.” Brigid proudly executed her new skill of using the dishwasher and then she wiped off the table. The few pots that remained, she set to soak before dashing up to the exercise room.

  Quillon was the last to enter. “Before we start,” he said, “I checked my computer and Gerarda sent a message. Bernard, your family’s safe in their cave system.”

  Cheers erupted.

  “But,” Quillon continued once the noise level decreased, “she indicated she’d be off-line for a few days. Our rescue seems to have sparked a higher military presence in the area and she feels we need to lay low to see if things will quiet down. I’ll monitor online chatter, but it looks like your reunion with them will have to wait, Bernard.”

  Bernard offered a small smile. “Thanks for checking. It’s good to have their safety confirmed.”

  He took a deep breath and turned to Treena. “Okay, Treena, let’s use this time and get me strong!”

  Over the next three days, the group established a rhythm for themselves. There was time for rest and time in the garden. They worked in small groups, learning how to defend themselves. They practiced wielding the knives from the Fairy Realm as a last resort for defense. Chores, like doing laundry, were shared between them. Nicole asked Symba about more clothes and personal items, so they spent a few fun hours exploring Isleen’s supplies. Individually and together, they reflected on the prophecies and the information they received from Quillon’s computer searches. Much was discussed as they shared their thoughts together over nourishing meals. Trust continued to build between them.

 

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