Cave and Candle part three

So there I was, by myself standing in front of an ancient drawing; a drawing older than our time on the Soilorb. Strange for it looked like all the others except it hadn’t an Elder in front of it.

I was hesitant to touch it. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. I reached out tentively and lightly brushed my index finger on a white frothy swirl.

I was thrown from my feet and I closed my eyes as I hit the hard floor. I put my hands down beside me and felt soft loamy soil. Cool and soothing against my burning skin. I should have felt cold, unforgiving stone, but it was ground.

The drowsy fragrance of gardenias hung in the air and I took in a deep breath as I slowly opened my eyes. Around me tall trees reached up into a violet sky with ribbons of foamy white clouds strewn through it. The deep velvet green of the leaves threw long shadows across the clearing I had found myself in. The rich dirt crumbled through my fingers when I pushed my hands into it. Patches of wild daisies and sunflowers dotted the edges of a small watering hole. Great bushes of gardenias sat beneath the huge trees.

Where the stream entered the clear water on the edge sat a child. It was facing away from me but what I could see it had long, wavy brown hair (the color of tea leaves left in the sun); tresses pooled on the earth around slender hips and legs.

Like before it just felt female. The fall of its hair and the curve of its frail shoulders and the length of bare leg gave it a female air.

I pushed myself off the loamy soil and walked bravely towards this solitary child.

“I have waited long for you to come.” She said in a musical voice, without turning her head.

When I reached her I saw that she was weaving a circlet of lavender flowers and leaves on her lap.

Surprised I asked, “where did you find that flower?”

Without looking up she replied, “beyond the Nightfield.”

“What is the Nightfield?” I asked more than a little curious.

Still she continued to weave the frail and rare flower. She never once looked up but I studied her. When I first sat in front of her she had the face of a child no more than eight with delicate cheekbones under deep brown eyes. A bow shaped mouth finished off a smooth oval face. But as I watch the face grew and a young lady now sat in front of me. Worry lines had appeared across her forehead and the smooth baby face had tinned out. Through this all her body never changed.

I took my eyes off her face to watch her weave the last branch into the circlet. And when I looked up an old crone was watching my face. I was shocked at the change only a few moments had brought.

Again she repeated, “I have waited long for you to come.” The sound was like the ringing of bells off in the distance; sweet and soft.

Clearly I was confused. “I’m not sure what you mean. Who are you? Where am I? What is the Nightfield? Why have you been waiting for me?” All these questions tumbled out of my mouth.

The face had returned to the child I had first seen. “All in good time, Aqua Bluewater of the sea tribe Oceanbreak, young Energy Spinner.”

I sat back, shocked. I had not spoken my name. “You seem to know me but I am at a loss for I know not what you are called.”

A shift had passed and I now saw an older woman with a plump face and a pleasant smile. Crow’s feet showed when she smiled at me. “You may call me Mother.”

“But you are not my mother.” As soon as I said that I instantly felt awful. The face of the crone frowned making wrinkles deeper like old worn sandal leather that some of the hunters wore.

“I’m sorry Mother. If that is what you want to be called then who am I to argue.”

The child smiled and handed me the wreath of lavender. “For you. Put it around your brow, for luck.”

Of course I took it and put the wreath on my head. Suddenly, I was surrounded by the heavy scent of lavender, overwhelmed by the perfume.

“Mother where am I? I remember touching the ancient drawing and then I was here, but I don’t remember leaving the cave.”

The stream beside us giggled over worn stones and a few birds called overhead.

“This is my world,” sang Mother.

“Your world?” I asked softly.

She nodded her graying hair, tucking a strand behind her small ear. “My world, the world I built before yours.”

I must have looked confused because the child Mother threw back her head and laughed before saying, “you call them Soilorbs. I had forgotten.”

Now I understood and I waited patiently for her to go on.

“When your race came into being I was still fairly young and curious. And so I came to where you lived and I loved to go among your people. As you grew I marveled at what I had created, but I came less frequently. I think some of the things I could do frightened some people.”

“What things Mother?” I asked respectfully because I was coming to understand something of this being I was talking to.

She shook her head and clasped her smooth hands in her lap but she continued. “I was still young and very foolish. I could just appear in front of them. Make food or other items appear and disappear. I never grew old either. I think that is what scared them the most. So I came less and less and your race chose to worship me for the things I could do. I did not set out for this to happen but as it did I grew stronger.”

I nodded my head. Just as I thought, I was speaking with the Goddess Mother.

“But why the painting in the cave?”

“As time passed and I came less often, people forgot me and I grew weak as all gods and goddesses do when they are forgotten. Then one early daystar I visited a young woman who was about to give birth. She was a strong woman and had remembered the old ways from her mother. She had called on me to help with the birth. I had not heard my name in quite awhile so I was shocked to hear her. Curious I went to her. The labor was smooth and uneventful. But she gave birth to a girl, whose name was Jewel Sunwater.”

I blurted out, “the first Energy Spinner.”

“Yes, yes child, the first Energy Spinner.” She replied, nodding her head of thick wavy hair. “When she was only a couple of moonstars old I went to the Cave and painted my world for her to remember. Your group grew as Jewel Sunwater learned and taught others but still I did not grow strong.”

“Elder Jewel Sunwater must not have understood. There is nothing in the History Stones about the drawing.”

Saddened she said, “that does not surprise me. It was a confusing time for your race. A man had discover how to make iron and everyone was in a frenzy to make what they could with this knowledge.”

“We worship you in the ways we are taught. Is it not enough?” I asked, concern filling my voice.

“I’m afraid that new gods are rising and I am slowly fading.”

“What can I do to help?” I asked. Forcefully I took her fragile hand.

“You are my chosen one, child.” And she looked deeply into my eyes. “You must go back and remind people of me. Teach the children about me. Teach the mothers. I have taken your race and made you my own.”

“Of course Mother.” I hesitated, finally asked, “may a ask a question Mother?”

“Ask your question child.” It was the matronly mother who spoke to me.

“Why were you waiting for me Mother?”

Mother sat there playing with a blade of grass that she had plucked from the patch around her for a few moments. Her head hung and the color changed from sun dried brown to a deep rich cocoa brown and then it started to gray, completing the process before she spoke.

“When you were born your mother whispered a small prayer to me. Again I hadn’t heard my name from many daystars and moonstars.” Here she paused to stare at the sparkling water of the stream, “I listened to her closely. She asked that you be given what no one in her family had been given. Your family’s females had lived ordinary lives and she wanted more for you. If you were to marry then she wanted it to be for love and not obligation. If you were to learn a craft she wanted it to be an artistic craft not one of childrearing. Although she knew that childrearing was an important task. She wanted for you what she had never received.” She turned back to me, tears shining in her mocha eyes. “I took pity on this honest woman, who had called my name when others had relied on the new gods.”

“Are you responsible for my parents' deaths?” I was suddenly angry; had this being, the goddess I had loved, been the reason for my loss of mother and father?

“Oh no child, no! I am not the reason. The fever was not of my making, and I could do nothing about it when your mother called upon me. It was too deeply imbedded in their bodies. No child, I would have never ripped you away like that. I knew one day you would follow the path that was chosen for you on the day you were born.” A small tear slid down a weathered face, full of wrinkles.

“Any more questions?” After I didn’t answer she said, “good, now return.” She touched my forehead between my eyes.

* * *

I awoke three days later. Elder Moonglow and my brother were waiting beside my bed. Willow was hovering behind them with her fingers in her mouth like always when she was upset. They all sighed with relief when I asked for water.

After Willow had brought me water I told them of my journey. My brother thought I had hit my head but Elder Moonglow told him to hush and I couldn’t help but laugh. He turned a bright side of red and stomped out. I didn’t see him for four days, but he came back and we remained close.

Willow stuck with me through all the training and then we both went out and taught where they would listen. And even in places they wouldn’t. But that’s another story.

Elder Moonglow made my life harder after that. She made sure I knew everything I could about the Mother Goddess. And then I had to learn it all again. But I worked hard and I was rewarded with a wonderful life just like my mother wanted.

Not all of the questions have been answered but I know with time and persistence the ‘Mother’ will answer.

I still wear the wreath of lavender when I tell my story or when I teach of the Mother Goddess. I feel her growing stronger as I pass my knowledge on to others.

Elder Amethyst Moonglow, Willow Greentree and my brother Tomas Bluewater have gone on to the Mother Goddess’ Soilorb, or world as she called it and I am close behind. My eyes have grown dim and my hands are bent but still I tell my stories and share my knowledge with all who will hear me.

So to you I pass this along in hopes you will continue when I can no longer.

Blessed be, says the Mother Goddess.