Voices of the Stars

by Rowena Whaling

  “I am Morgan of the Woods, Morgan of the Bees, and Lady of the Lake. Allow my entrance into the Land of Naught...”

  I will write no more of the invocation I quoted, lest these words fall into untrained or unworthy hands.

  Once spoken, down, down, down – or was it within, within, within? – I went that Night in search of the root of Morganna’s Magic. I was dragged into the channel of the Red Spring for seemingly hundreds of miles – but I did not drown. I did not come to an end of it, either. Somewhere along its murky red depths I came upon a portal veering off to the left. Hundreds of fingers and hands rushed out of the portal, grabbing hold of me and sweeping me from the Spring into a deep Cavern of grey Rock and red dirt. I stood upright. Then suddenly the fingers and hands turned to dust and an unfelt Wind blew them away.

  When I looked down at my feet, they were standing on some clear, solid surface – such as glass from the lands of the East. I could see right through it.

  I was looking down, down – at the Star-filled Midnight Sky. Quickly I looked up again. All about me were underground Mountainous heights. I could see no end to this. Fathoms and fathoms of petrified mineral columns had been formed by thousands of millennia of single drops of Water, drip, drip, dripping upward from the bottom. I looked down again and then I looked at my hands. With a start I saw that they and the rest of me were inside out.

  Of a sudden I saw the flesh of my hands and arms and the rivers of blood running through them. There, too, were their great ivory bones. I watched in awe and fascination, being wooed into acceptance of my changed state of being. Then I remembered... “No!” I shouted, “Nothing can change here! I came as one Creature, I will remain as such. You have no power to change me!”

  In that miniscule fraction of a second, while I awaited the outcome of my declaration of un-changed nature, I closed my eyes, held my breath, and thought, “Will this Land of Naught vomit me from its bowels – if indeed that is where I am? Will I now dis-integrate and be turned into chalky dust as did the grabbing fingers and hands, then to be blown away by the Wind with no presence?”

  I waited... I felt nothing.

  When I opened my eyes I was outside out and inside in again – I had kept my wits enough to pass the first test.

  A Key fell out of no-where into my hands. Along with it fell a ragged scrap of Animal hide, with these words written upon it: “Let no one influence your perception of who you are. Let no one diminish you. Let no one change you without your desire to be changed. Whoever they are, do not let them! You know your value. Be what you know yourself to be.”

  I had gained The First Key, which was made of Mercury – and unlocked the first Gate of understanding the powers of the Land of Naught. But from whence had the Key come – and from whom?

  The Key itself had immediately melted before my eyes, yet I knew that I would henceforth hold its power within.

  Then I noticed that I finally felt stability beneath my feet, yet for some reason I was hesitant to take a step forward. Insecurity enveloped me. If I stepped away from the known, would I fall into terrifying unknowns? My gorge began to rise. Confusion had weakened me; every moment, terrifying fear was clutching me tighter. Fear – almost panic – my every hair was standing out and away from my skin.

  Then I smelled it – the pungent odor of Wildcat. A voice came from out of no-where...

  “Fear is the destroyer! – destroyer... destroyer... destroyer...” His voice echoed away from me... – “Say it Morgan!” he ordered.

  I swallowed hard and firmed up my resolve. I said it aloud: “Fear is the destroyer! So I will un-chain myself from it!”

  Next I took a step forward, but when I did, my position had not changed. Whatever solidity was beneath my feet had moved with me in sympathetic motion. I could gain no distance from my starting point.

  At once I realised: “This is a game.”

  A voice spoke again. But it was not the same voice as I had heard before. This voice sounded very annoyed: “It is THE Game!

  “Yes, Morganna played our Game to control others – because she had learned these skills from us. She knew how to manipulate the powers of confusion, fear, and loss in everyone – to weaken and destroy your world’s solidity – the natural order of the way you think things should be. She broke your shields and downed your defenses. That is how she dragged everyone into her drama and held them under her sway. She used their own fears to camouflage her moves. For, this is one of the secrets of the Land of Naught.”

  I sarcastically retorted – “But confusion and fear of what? Loss of what? The loss of her? Of her Love? The loss of her immortal Soul? The loss of any good results that could possibly come of the efforts and Love spent upon her? I think not!”

  “Oh, really?” returned the voice, “Loss, yes, and your fear that she could have been born without a conscience... fear of her beautiful madness. Yes, Morganna kept everyone’s feelings confused and turned inside out. And, as to confusion... in your world the effects of the Land of Naught are in-comprehensible – thus comes the confusion. Thoughts such as these wind their way insidiously around you.

  “Could this beautiful young girl really be so wicked? Could she have been born this way? Or could it be our fault? But no, surely my daughter – my sister, my friend’s daughter – could not truly be as she seems. If she were, she could bring down the walls of this house and the halls of this Kingdom – and that is un-thinkable! I/we must be mistaken... I must be a horrible Mother, sister, friend, to think of her this way. I do not want to believe it. I do not believe it! Or, do I?

  “The breaking down of your shields and defenses disables your Gifts and strengths. This is how, on the Night of Gorlois’ Death, Morganna could slink near to the presence of The Merlin and the great Seer Igraine un-noticed. This is also why she was un-readable. It was all in The Game...”

  Then realization struck. I called out, “The Land of Naught – it is itself a game! But if a game, then there are rules... If rules, then there is law, if law, then pattern, and if there is pattern... then there is order. And if so, this land of Naught – this land of dis-order – is deceived, as well as a deceiver. I can win its game if I do not give in to fear and confusion, if I dis-allow the draining of the un-certainty of what I know to be truth.”

  “Ho-Huck!!!” shouted the voice disgustedly. Now you are not playing by the rules! You have un-tangled the mystery of The Game.”

  Begrudgingly he continued – “With this recognition, you have won the Second Key.

  The Key to the Second gate: To know the truth; that to some, life is a game and the world is a board upon which they use others as pawns – breaking their shields, downing their defenses, sapping their strengths, all the while knowing that others will keep on giving and forgiving, for the sake of Love and the fear of loss. This Key was made of Lead.

  I felt stronger.

  Then for some reason I began to wonder... “Morganna... Le Faye... She had named herself that... Why? Was a part of that name itself one of the words of the un-making?” On an impulse I yelled, “Morganna Le Faye!”

  Rushing by me, through me, above, below and around me, were fragmentary pieces of crushed and mutilated bloody tiny winged Gods – the Faye. Oh, no! Had I just destroyed them by speaking Morganna’s name? Oh, retched Spirit of mine, I had spoken it – I killed them. Beautiful Creatures, helpers, and guides, I felt as if my heart would break – in reality. Then my stomach, my throat, my whole insides were shattering in slowed motion.

  Pity, oh pity! I mortally pity you, dear winged Ones. Great sadness... I am drowning in my empathy for you. Poor Faye... Poor, broken, mad, Morganna! You were the only sister of my blood. I idolized you when I was a very young child. But even then I felt such sorrow for you. I mortally pitied you – pitied you unto my Death and my own undoing. Oh – winged Ones, I cannot Heal you. Morganna, I could not Heal you, either. I have failed you. I should have tried harder. I should have understood that you were ill. I should have Loved you more.


  I wept bitterly, all the while knowing I was shattering myself – just as I always have. Then from one small place deep within me, still left un-shattered, I remembered Lady Vivianne’s words – “You cannot Heal everyone, Morgan. Have you not learned this by now?”

  I clung to that one small, still whole memory. It began to grow and un-shatter the rest of me. Fragment by fragment, I came back together into solidity. When enough of my pieces had returned, I noticed – really noticed and remembered – that the Faye are not helpless, diminutive sweetlings, flitting around with Dragon-fly wings. These pictures and symbols are the stuff of Faery Tales – old wives’ and old men’s stories, first told to fill and delight the hearts of children and others gathered around their hearth Fires on cold or otherwise boring and empty evenings. But, because of the ways of Humans, down through the generations these stories have been believed and have hence become ‘truth’. The real truth is that the Faye are mighty beings, who have retreated from this world of men to the realms of Spirit. They need not wings with which to fly. It is all a lie!

  Perhaps truth, here in the Land of Naught, is not truth at all, but un-truth and the crushed winged Ones were only the catalyst to reveal my deepest tendencies, flaws, and weaknesses: my empathy, my pity. Oh, not simply to the extent of Human kindness, of course, but to the shattering self-destructive extent – by which I have allowed myself and my life to be ruled. I have been found out and made to look into the face of my own un-doing.

  So this was the Third Key: It reveals to its holder their deepest shadow selves – those traits that keep them off-kilter in this life. Knowledge is power. I can understand and so I can change. This Key was made of Tin.

  But her name... I had raised the power to kill – or so my eyes had told me – by the use of her name. Yet, Morganna was named as a babe, after a gift of great value, a pearl. It had been given to her by a kind and wise man. He said it had come from his land of great Magics. But she had added ‘Le Faye’ to it...

  I suppose that is why she always proclaimed or announced herself when she entered anywhere. We always thought it was a somewhat charming, supercilious self-aggrandizement, but she knew what she was doing. By adding the Gods’ name – Le Faye – to hers, she was adding greater power to it.

  Are the God’s names, then, the Words of the Making and the Un-making?

  I remembered too, that I never saw her, Day or Night, but that she was wearing that pearl, held by a ribbon around her neck. Never except for the last Night I had seen her alive. Then it had been around the neck of her daughter. I remember because it caught the glint of the Full Moon’s light, when she had thrown back her hood at the Giant’s Dance. So then, had Morganna thrown her Magic into this pearl and had it grown and grown with every breath she took and every step she made?

  But what about the sound of the name of the pearl? What makes Words of the Making and of the Un-Making? Is it their meaning or their tone and vibrational value, as I had been taught?

  So I dared it – I hollered, “The Pearl!” Nothing...

  But then, a huge, deep rumbling voice sounded as if it came from within the endless Cavern’s boulders themselves. The walls shook. Some of the Crystals and mineral cone-shaped columns were loosened and fell – upward. The voice shook my bones. My teeth were chattering. I held my mouth tightly closed so that they would not chip or break. I pressed my hands tightly to my eyes to relieve the pressure, but to no avail. I knew the massive voice was echoing within my very being.

  “Do you toy with me? Calling me a pearl? Your impudence could cause me to stir and arise. Do you want me to begin the un-raveling of all that exists? Do you want to be the one who causes it, the one who says the word – the penultimate word of the Un-making?”

  Was this the Fourth Key?

  Intimidation! Feeling undue responsibility for causing another’s actions. This had come along with my empathy, which I could now fight, for I had been given the Key of Understanding with which to Heal it. Now I must take this enlightenment one step farther – now that I knew how to use the Un-making – the Naught – to turn this pattern of claiming what is not mine aside.

  I responded with courage – “I have not intoned the penultimate word of the Un-making. I have not disturbed the state of being or the function of this realm – this Land of Naught. I cause you to do nothing! Thank you for the Fourth Key – now let me pass your gate.”

  “Who demands passage?”

  “I am Morgan of the Woods! Morgan of the Bees! Lady of the Lake!”

  “Hmmm… All right. Pass, Lady of the Lake.”

  Realizing that he had only acknowledged one part of me – she who is Lady of the Lake – I responded... “I will only pass whole and restored. I claim all of who and what I am, I will let none intimidate, diminish, or demean me. I am Morgan of the Bees, Morgan of the Woods, as well as Lady of the Lake.”

  “Well... All right...”

  The rumbling ceased and there, at my feet, lay the key. I was stronger – this Key was made of Iron...

  As quickly as I noticed it, it vanished.

  I took a breath and closed my eyes. Immediately my eyes were as though sewn shut. My hands and arms snapped to my sides, and my legs closed together. Feeling like an arrow shot from a high tension bow of Divine proportion in an arc through the Air, I felt motion and great, great speed – yet, no Wind. No resistance. My being was passing through total blackness. After what seemed like a long while, I felt as if I had been gently laid in a pool of Water, only a wand’s length deep. I opened my eyes and then stood. I was on a shoreline, but in place of Sand, the beach was covered in Water. Then I heard a strange sound and looked toward where I thought to see Sea waves. Waves were coming to the shoreline, swelling, then cresting and rolling to the shore into nothingness as the undertow was drawing them back into “Sea.” But the waves – they were sand. Quickly I looked up. Everything was upside down again. What should have been Sky was the surface of the Earth – with long tendrils of roots and soil hanging down from beneath it. My head spun. I looked far ahead to an endless Sea of sand – then side to side: an endless shore of Water. Frustrated, I spun around to look behind me.

  Normality...

  There in front of me was a beautiful Forest. I could hear the calls of Birds, the rushing of Springs and Creeks, and the quiet creeping of small Animals. Then a solitary Butterfly, beautiful in her elegant midnight blue iridescent wings, approached me. She spoke: “Welcome, Morgan of the Woods. We have awaited you forever. Are we not beautiful in your sight?”

  I looked at the fragrant blossoms of the Trees falling gently to the ground. The rays of Sunlight were filtering through the branches to form a dappled surface of light and shadows on the pathway at my feet.

  “Yes,” I said, “you are.”

  “Then follow me Morgan, into the ‘Wood of Tranquility,’ where you will learn that all is well and as it should be. Will you do this for me? For even though you know we live in the land of Naught, you will feel our beauty and the safety of our company.”

  In my own thoughts, I wisely repeated, “beautiful in your sight, all is well and as it should be...” knowing in my rational thoughts what you are, yet being deceived by your beauty and my desire to feel safe.

  She laughed a laugh as enticing as a bubbling Spring.

  “Why did she laugh?” thought I.

  “I will tell you why” she answered. My thoughts hung written on the breeze before me, spelled out in ever-changing letters of many languages – sometimes even my own.

  “You can hold no secrets from me,” said she. “This, too, is the Magic of the land of Naught”

  “I am not fooled! Your Magic has given to me the Fifth Key – the Key to resisting seduction and false security – the ability to recognize the turning of the Glamour inside out and being used for ill.”

  She withdrew from beneath her wing a tiny, brilliant Copper Key and tossed it toward me. It spun through the air, but just at the Time I was about to catch it, everything froze into stillne
ss.

  The Butterfly hung motionless before me. The leaves and branches stopped in half sway. The dappled light on the ground, which had been ever shifting, was now still. A silence had fallen over the Birds and creeping ones. The Glamour had faded...

  I have not ever – EVER! – felt so alone and heavy. No! I must not change whilst here. But how does one not change with every new thought, experience and feeling? I became insecure with this realization.

  “Doubt!” I said aloud.

  “Yes, I am here. Who calls me? I looked before me to where had been the Wood of Tranquility. It was full dark now. An old hag stood bent before a foul smelling, bubbling cauldron seething with unthinkable things of evil.

  “I asked you, who called me?” said the hag.

  “I am Morgan, but I did not call you.”

  “Yes, you called ‘Doubt,’ and here I am.”

  “Why do you show yourself thusly? Why as a hag with a long crooked nose, pussy boils upon your face, and a green discharge oozing from the corners of your cloudy eyes? The skin rots on your hands as on a leper. I have always been taught to Love and respect the Grandmothers, yet now you appear to me as something vile and untouchable. I have ever only heard of one such as you from the repeatings of Saxon tales of horrors.

  “Have I shaken your trust in what you hold as truth? Are you prejudiced by my appearance, Morgan of the Woods? Do you hold within you the potential for hatred of what is unfamiliar? You, who have always held yourself in such high esteem as a woman who holds no prejudice? Do you now doubt who you are and all you have believed and been taught? Ha ha ha!” She cackled. “Have I rocked you from your foundation – your stability? Does the Earth quake beneath your feet?”

  I thought for a moment and then answered: “Doubt! Doubt is the great distracter. Doubt kills Magic. Even if you doubt for only a moment, it is long enough to take away the Magic you hold in your hands. Doubt kills Trust and without trust, Love dies too.”