Aurelia and the Library of the Soul

by Gelia Dolcimascolo

  Just as Promulgus landed on the nearby bank, Romando appeared from behind the ancient oak, his golden rope over his shoulder.

  “Aurelia! My love!” Romando shouted. He watched in horror as Aurelia disappeared into the whirlpool.

  Promulgus chortled as the whirlpool swallowed Aurelia, who plummeted to the depths of its whorl.

  Romando quickly knotted the golden rope to a sturdy oak root, tightened it, tied the other end around his chest, and plunged in. In the rushing water, he felt Aurelia latch onto his legs. He rose against the torrent, hoisting her onto shore. Exhausted, Aurelia crawled onto higher ground and collapsed. Romando reached for a sturdy root, but his raw-skinned fingers lost their grip, and he fell back into the churning waters.

  Horrified, Aurelia reached into her pocket. She withdrew a tiger’s-eye. Rolling it in her palm, she wished as hard as she could to save Romando and tossed it into the water.

  Vollov! she pleaded in silence. Help! I need you!

  Once again, Vollov appeared. He plunged his arm into the swirling current, calmed the waters, and freed Romando to swim ashore and collapse at Aurelia’s feet.

  Vollov handed Aurelia a tiny satchel. “Let me tie this pepper satchel onto your wrist, for it will come in handy.” He fastened it onto her arm and turned to leave, singing:

  Two together, more than one,

  Seeking paths beneath the sun;

  Love gives you each a second chance

  To find your joy in coupled dance.

  He vanished once again.

  Meanwhile, Promulgus had fled behind the ancient oak to hide from Vollov, who, of course, could see invisible spirits. Promulgus also knew that Vollov, a much younger spirit, could overpower him, for even spirits lose their powers as they age, and he was no match for Vollov.

  As soon as Vollov was out of sight, Promulgus jumped out from behind the oak, knocked Romando to the ground, took hold of the young man’s head, and blew his putrid breath into his mouth.

  Romando fell unconscious. Promulgus hovered over the motionless Romando, gloating maliciously.

  Aurelia crawled to Romando, who lay as still as death itself. Oh, Romando. Please do not die, she begged in silence. When she could not rouse him, she threw herself across his chest, sobbing so hard she thought her ribs would break.

  Promulgus snatched Aurelia’s dagger from its casing on her belt, grabbed her wrist, and, with his hand over hers, turned the point to her stomach. She stood in astonishment.

  “Remember, Larissa, Promulgus was nearly two hundred years old. His powers were waning. One fear, especially, prevented him from thrusting the dagger into Aurelia: If old spirits drew blood, they, too, would die; if not, they would be granted thirteen more years of evil powers.”

  “Romando is dead!” shouted Promulgus. “Dead! Do you hear? And you, Aurelia, you, too, must die! You have no reason to live. Take your useless life in your own hands, and join your lover.” He pressed the dagger against her blouse. “Do it! Plunge this blade into your heart. End your miserable existence. You will be free.” And so shall I. He forced her hand tighter around the handle.

  Aurelia drew in a deep breath. As she lifted the dagger, Promulgus squeezed her hand even harder with his scaly fingers.

  At that moment, Vollov appeared in a flash from behind the ancient oak, singing:

  Seize ye this moment before it is gone!

  Reach for your voice, it will bring thee a song.

  Aurelia’s Revenge

  Sudden, unfathomable rage surged through Aurelia’s entire being. She clenched her fists tightly, inhaled to the depths of her lungs with every ounce of her soul, and poured forth the most powerful melody ever heard in the land:

  You wished to destroy me, bring shame to my life

  By placing your venom upon this, my knife.

  Never shall I leave this turbulent land;

  ’Tis YOU who will perish beneath my own hand.

  Promulgus jumped back in shock at the fierceness of her song.

  Heartless Promulgus, you’ll wrong me no more!

  I challenge your hatred from deep in my core.

  Oft you have harmed us, destroyed all that’s good.

  Now I shall make of you petrified wood.

  Vollov placed his hands on Aurelia’s shoulders and whispered in her ear:

  Open your satchel! It offers you power.

  NOW dear Aurelia, for this is YOUR hour!

  The pepper will blind him, and you’ll have your chance.

  It’s YOUR life, Aurelia, your last time to dance.

  ’Tween heartbeats, then thrust deep, ’tis he, or ’tis you,

  To find yourself, save yourself, this you must do!

  Energized by Vollov’s words and his touch, Aurelia threw off Promulgus’s hold on her, slit the satchel with the blade, and flung the ground pepper into his face.

  Still transfixed by her fiery voice, his eyes burning and tearing, Promulgus covered his face and tried to stifle a sneeze. Just as the sneeze spewed out, his heart ceased for an instant. Aurelia lunged at him. She thrust the silver dagger into his chest, piercing him between heartbeats.

  Before her, Promulgus froze into a dark, gnarled tree of petrified wood. After a stunned silence, she turned away from the pathetic sight and to Vollov. “I sang! I can speak! And I have conquered Promulgus! I cannot believe my own ears and eyes. ”

  “Indeed, you have triumphed, but you have not yet completed your journey. Follow me.”

  He directed Aurelia to the entrance of another, deeper cave.

  The Library of the Soul —

  Depth Level

  “You have three more tasks to accomplish before you reach your place in the world, Aurelia. First, re-enter the Library of the Soul at the Depth Level. Here you must relinquish the last marble and follow its path in this tunnel. Next you must choose the mirrored door to lead you on. And finally, you must pass across the Crystal Footbridge to climb fifty-five steps — backwards. Then you will no longer need me to guide you.”

  Aurelia turned to her beloved Romando, but he was nowhere to be seen. When she looked for Vollov to ask him what had happened, he, too, had vanished.

  “Romando! Vollov! Please do not abandon me again,” she implored. No one answered.

  At the cave entrance, Aurelia found herself facing the mouth of a narrow tunnel. She entered the tunnel and inched along the gently sloping white tiles which lined it — a pristine, curved hallway as bright as day. She placed the last tiger’s-eye marble on the shiny floor. It rolled down the slope and disappeared into the tunnel — round and down, round and down, faster and faster. She raced after it, trying in vain to grasp it, but she was no match for the force of gravity.

  Aurelia entered another cavern, where a rim of jewel-like glass orbs encircled a pool of clear water. The ripples of the pond reflected a carousel of purple, red, green, blue, and amber upon the cavern walls. Just out of reach, on the bottom of the pond, Aurelia’s marble glowed brightly. She waded toward it, lifted it from the water, and burst into crimson tears, which ran down her cheeks, onto her body, and into the pond. As the water reddened around her, Aurelia clutched the marble against her chest.

  A chorus of voices echoed in the tunnel-cavern:

  Our lives are not lost; our hearts have not died,

  Our spirits will always be near.

  Each life you have cherished will enter your soul

  With a richness which only you hear.

  Ghostly faces of her loved ones appeared — her parents, her lost friends, her aunt and uncle, her cousins, relatives — and Romando — in a rotating kaleidoscope of neon figures on the cavern walls. She felt as if a sea of arms was lifting and cradling her.

  We’ll cry with you, laugh with you, tremble, and fall,

  For sorrow and joy are the plights of us all.
r />   Your grief will bring solace; your tears will bring peace,

  So never allow this, your journey, to cease.

  Pass all of these lessons to children you bear,

  And those who are young still, or placed in your care.

  For death comes from life; you need fear it no more.

  Make peace with yourself now, and open the door.

  The Mirrored Door

  The cavern walls became a circle of mirrored doors. The voices continued:

  Reflect, Aurelia, on all you see.

  Make your next choice carefully.

  Just one door will lead you through

  To a path made just for you.

  Which door will end your need to roam?

  Which will help you find your home?

  You must choose now on your own

  To reap rewards from seeds you’ve sown.

  Aurelia approached one of the doors, the last tiger’s-eye marble clutched in her hand. Reflected in the mirrors, the marble glowed like a brilliant torch. Shading her eyes, she peered at her reflection. How she had grown in the past year! She was no longer a child.

  She stared into the mirror. Her eyes widened in disbelief as someone appeared behind her. It was her father. He tapped her shoulder, and she swiveled around to face him. He had aged, his hair now long and gray and his face creased with worry. He led her by the hand and began to twirl her around the room. As they waltzed, her loved ones surrounded her in the mirrors. Aurelia’s childhood villagers and the Gypsies encircled the two of them — dancing, singing, and playing mandolins or tambourines. Aunt Mysteria, Uncle Ivan and her cousins — even Maudline — reached their arms toward her. The chorus of their voices crescendoed.

  Before she knew what was happening, her father was spinning her right into Romando’s arms. Romando lifted and swirled her until she was so dizzy she had to sit down. The room grew dimmer, the figures paler. Their voices diminished until the only sound was Aurelia’s exhausted breath.

  She looked around her. Not a soul. “Father, Mother! Romando! Where have you all gone?”

  No one answered. Her heart pounding, she stood and cried out, “Vollov, help me. Where did everyone go?” She heard only echoes of her own cries.

  Hoping to summon Vollov, she rubbed the large tiger’s-eye, which dimmed to a shimmering, amber globe. In the silent darkness, she felt her way along the mirrored doors.

  “Where are you, Vollov?” Again, echoes of her own voice taunted her.

  Finally, from afar, Vollov’s voice reached her ears: “You cannot see me, but I am still here. Continue your journey. Find the Crystal Footbridge behind the mirrored door. And bring a piece of mirror with you. Then climb the crystal steps barefoot to reach the top of the bridge.”

  With only the faint amber glow of the tiger’s-eye to guide her, Aurelia explored the circumference. Like a giant, round firefly, the marble brightened enough for her to see. To her surprise, only the one mirrored door in which she had seen herself reflected her image. She stared into it, transfixed.

  The Crystal Footbridge

  Behind her reflection stretched a long, glistening footbridge. She whirled around to see where the bridge came from, but the room was empty. She turned back to the bridge’s reflection, sparkling in the mirror.

  “The Crystal Footbridge! This must be the door.” As Aurelia pressed her hand against the mirror, the entire door shattered, scattering its shards around her.

  “Oh dear!” she exclaimed. “Now what shall I do?”

  Vollov’s voice returned. “First remove your shoes. You will leave them behind. Then select a sturdy piece of the mirror with care. Next, climb onto the bridge.”

  Aurelia slipped off her shoes, picked up a large piece of mirror, and brushed aside glass to create a path to the rising stairs. She carefully climbed the crystal steps and onto the arch of the bridge. As she inched forward, she placed one foot cautiously in front of the other on the gleaming crystal. When she had crossed the bridge, Aurelia found herself at the bottom of a steep granite cliff with a long staircase carved into its side.

  Vollov’s voice continued: “You must complete the final task — the fifty-five steps. Climb the stairway along the cliff backwards. Do not look down. Let the mirror guide you to your destiny.”

  With the mirror in one hand and the cliff wall to steady her, she turned to face the footbridge. She fixed her gaze on the staircase reflected in the mirror and backed up fifty-five stairs, one careful step at a time. With each step, she felt along the treacherous terrain with her bare feet for shards, splinters, and stones.

  When Aurelia arrived atop the cliff, breathless, she could not believe her eyes: There, in her hand-mirror, reflected her beloved village and the familiar Candleborough steeple. She turned around to see if it was real. It was! She dashed on her raw-skinned feet down the rugged road and onto the cobblestone streets toward the village.

  At Rolling Pin Lane, Aurelia stopped short and gasped. White, billowy columns rose in the air before her. “Oh, no! It can’t be the Cottage Bakery, still smoldering. After all this time?”

  She covered her face with her hands. Holding her breath, she inched closer. Strangely, the air began to feel cool and moist.

  Aurelia inhaled deeply and sighed with relief. What she had feared was smoke was actually mist from a fountain spraying over a garden lush with greenery and flowers. She spotted a black-shawled figure seated on a wooden bench. In front of the bench stood her family’s old stone fireplace, a bouquet of rosemary in its hearth. The inscription on the stone mantel read:

  IN MEMORIAM

  Here Lie the Ashes of

  Milos and Astarte Panade

  Who Gave Generously to All

  The shawled figure stood and turned to Aurelia, as if expecting her. “Welcome back, Aurelia, my dear niece,” said Mysteria Goodsole.

  “Aunt Mysteria!” Aurelia buried herself in her aunt’s long, warm embrace.

  Mysteria stood back to gaze at her. “Look at you. Come in and rest. And your feet — they are bleeding. Let me coat them with balm and wrap them. And then, well, I have some things to share with you. Come back to your new home.”

  When they entered Goodsole’s Cobblery, Ivan cried out, “She’s here! Glorious day! You are back at last. Mysteria, give Aurelia — you know . . . ”

  “Yes, yes, but let us first feed the poor girl. Bring some water and soap in a bowl . . . and drinking water. And something to eat. Also, a bowl of foot-soother.”

  While Ivan went for the water and food, Mysteria walked off to a back shelf, stood on her tip-toes, and retrieved two silver boxes from the top shelf. One box was scarred and tarnished, the other shiny and polished. She handed Aurelia the tarnished box.

  Aurelia gasped. “It’s the box of recipes. How did you get it?”

  “Last night a strange-looking fellow set it on our doorstep, banged on our door, and rushed off. I knew its contents immediately.”

  Next she handed Aurelia the shiny silver box. “I have kept these for you since you were a little girl. Go on. Open it.”

  Aurelia lifted the lid. There, wrapped in black velvet, nestled the ribbon shoes she had worn on her sixth birthday. “Your mother wanted me to save them in this silver box,” continued Mysteria. “You see, being twins, we were each given identical silver boxes by our parents to store something special. Which, as you can see, we did. Now, come here. I have something else to show you.”

  Mysteria handed Aurelia a letter on parchment.

  “This is from your cousin, Maudline. She wants you to read it before she sees you.”

  “My cousin Maudline?”

  “Read her letter. We have much to share, you and I.”

  Ivan returned with the foot-soother and nourishment. As Mysteria bathed her niece’s feet and bandaged them, Aurelia unrolled the pa
rchment. She read aloud:

  Maudline’s Letter to Aurelia

  Aurelia,

  I am a different person than I was when we were younger. My father’s rage was endless. I had to leave — to save myself. The Gypsies’ fires drew me to their warmth; I watched them almost nightly.

  One night, I joined in their dances. Before I knew it, a young man named Nicabar swirled me around and around until I was so dizzy I collapsed in laughter. Remember him? He was at the bakery with Romando. I chose Nicabar as my first love partner. Had I known his fickle nature, perhaps I would have made a different choice, but I was young and passionate. And that is how my baby boy, Miloska, came into this world. Nicabar has gone now, but my sweet Miloska is with me.

  Now that you have rendered my father harmless, I am free from his powers. I have learned that Mysteria is my own mother. Miloska and I dwell with Mysteria and Ivan; my new family has shown me how to love.

  Aurelia, you and I have shared many strange moments and stranger tales. I await and welcome your return, and I ask your forgiveness.

  Your cousin,

  Maudline Morphus Goodsole

  Aurelia glanced at her aunt and uncle. “You mean Maudline has a baby? And they live with you? And you, Aunt Mysteria, are her mother?”

  “Indeed,” said Mysteria. “Miloska was born a few weeks ago.” She paused. “Come with me. I have something else to show you. Then we shall visit them, and I shall explain more.”

  The two women left the cobblery and walked arm-in-arm up Rolling Pin Lane. A small shop had been added in Aurelia’s absence. Plaintive strains from a mandolin greeted their ears. When they entered the shop, the music ceased; Aurelia set her gaze on Romando.

  Romando carefully placed his mandolin on a counter and threw his arms around Aurelia. The two stood for many a minute before either could speak. At last Romando broke their silence. “I knew you would find your way back, my beloved Aurelia. At last, we are together.”

  As they embraced, a light snow began to fall outside. At the same time, the sun poured through an opening in the clouds. “Sun-snow!” said Mysteria. “It is your good-luck omen!”