Did I ever tell you the story of when the stars came down, just a few of them mind you, to tread with shadows in the forest?
No, but I feel I've heard it.
Small stories, old stories can live in us like that. It only needs a quiet word to collect them together and bring them to the forethought.
Who was she?
That is the quiet word.
From the soft, black, velvet of a night without the moon to keep them in their rightful place, seven stars slipped from infinity. Without a sound, without disturbing the peace that is the right of all things on such nights they gently wound their way down, down to the trees.
Amongst shadow in the trees of the forest.
The very same. Old and cold and close the forest was to them, dark shadows creeping beneath dark canopies. Even the piercing light of the seven could not travel further than a word could be whispered. This did not matter for them of course, this world was new, was ancient, was... altogether something else.
Why had they come?
Why do any things slip from where they ought to be? Because they could. Because if they had not then the things that could have been would not have happened. Though this does not mean they always should have.
As seven amongst the trunks they were disorganised, they rolled together seeking form, seeking one another in the close dark, seeking questions for the answers they had. Or seeking answers for new questions to be discovered amongst the turf mounds of the old forest. Though none of this could they do as themselves, un-whole, un-made as they were. They did not know it, they needed more.
They needed her?
They needed her. Though a need is not always enough. Falling through the dark they made their way, their light a constant restriction as the shadow around them pushed against it. The blurred perimeter of white and black was as a physical force, holding them, pulling them first one way and then another, rolling the seven between bough and briar, bush and branch.
To be lost in the forest...
...is perhaps kinder than being lost on the road, for when you are lost on the road your destination can never be reached, but if you are lost in the forest...
...you can discover your destination for yourself.
And so the stars moved, there was unease at their randomness, but perhaps no fear. The ways of stars are not troubled by directions or destinations for the most part, though they were not all that was in where they were. The trunks sighed as they passed, relief clear as the light slid by. Leaves fluttered as though the glow were a wind and branches flicked irritably at their slumber having been disturbed.
"Softly now, be brave." whispered a voice. With great effort they collected themselves, they pulled together so that their light was combined. Peering as they pressed, searching for the whisper in the still night air. "Quiet now little ones" spoke a shadow. She stood in the hazed twilight between the stars and everything else, regarding them not at all. "Hush, it is only lost souls on a path of your own making". There was a breath, then the trees began to still, a tension previously oblivious eased away and the stars felt their light become greater, though no matter how they pressed they could not illuminate her, she remained bound to the space between worlds.
Between light and dark
Between their story and the stories beyond. They allowed themselves to dim so that she could come closer. Her shadow was both immense and slight, at once that of the beast and that of morning dew upon a new leaf. "The forest is used to quiet at night. Quiet of sound, quiet of sight. If I may, I would invite a shadow to collect you. You are strange in this place"
"We do not mean to be"
"Strangeness is no fault, it is no apology, though sleep and silence are things to be held most dear" She turned to the night, great wings spreading in both horned leather and white down as she whispered as though to a friend.
A small shadow came into the light and bowed gently to the seven and then to her.
As is proper
It gathered them within itself, reducing the light to nothing but a diminutive gesture. At first they were unassuming, unclear of themselves and their new un-light. Slowly however, through small cohesions and close interaction they found they had form, beyond which they had a perception which was more than they were previously aware. Where all had been light and that which bathed in it, now they held darkness too. The darkness beyond them was not as a wall through which the world was un-real. It was a plane upon which dim shapes moved, stretching back through the forest.
She came to them as they were: a mass of unshaped shadow, punctuated by points of starlight, a final light which could not be dimmed yet did not pierce. It was the boundary these points created around them that allowed her to step close. She knelt then and held them to her. Through soft and gnarled hands she worked the shadow beneath her embrace. With subtle whispers and clear tears set to purpose she moulded and melded their shadow until it could lope alongside her. Seven points formed within a vessel, separate and one.
Walking with seven's half-lit paws.
Together they slipped through trees, the seven now with purpose, with uniform clarity, her with one hand resting gently against them. Not as a guide, but as one who would travel too.
"We must be soft, for we are not alone in the forest" Shapes drifted beyond the small half light. The plane of shadow was punctuated by those that would live in it.
"Who are they"
"Ones who have chosen their way and would not be disturbed from it." The seven moved warily, the terrific beauty of her face set to seriousness beneath her twilight veil. Softly they moved and great creatures moved beyond them, their lives oblivious to the seven-and-one visitor that passed by. They cried in un-heard tones, swam in un-seen waters. They towered above mountains and crept through crevices along the backs of the blades of grass. Their stories crept with them, unfurling amongst the dark between each footprint.
Softly the seven padded along the un-route that was laid out before them. Their feet the first to have walked their path as her soft and calloused hand rested calmly on their haunches. The shadows swam beyond them and they were content to tread along without purpose, to take what was shown to them and to leave that which was beyond them.
Sharply, suddenly, her hand clenched into the deep fur along their back, holding them suddenly steady. Shadow over shadow fell, dark dropped to absence as a mighty colossus stepped before them. They stood in silence as it became aware, observing them from heights unfathomable. It would take little more than the slightest twitch for the mountain of dark and stone to simply erase them from their simple and complex existence, the scroll of their story falling ever-more to nothing, the path they trod the last they would.
I am not sure I like this story
Hardship is not something to be liked, nor to be embraced. It is something that must be faced by those that come to it and treated with respect by all others.
Reaching down to the seven-and-one the colossus plucked them from where they stood. It carried them high, high into the branches of the trees it lifted them, lifted so they could be perceived.
"But why do you glow so?"
"It is simply our nature"
"Hrrrmmmmmm" It considered this. "Ones nature is not something which can be avoided. It is in my nature to reduce that which cannot be perceived beneath me unto nothing, whether I would have it or not. Though some take enjoyment in this perceived power, I would take steps to avoid it were they available to me" the resonating voice was almost smug in its declaration, yet its intent was comforting enough.
"That is noble" her whisper was the soft touch of a lover in the morning.
"Nobility is less to do with it than respect" the rebuttal was ponderous in coming.
"Ah but nobility lies within respect, merely a layer of the latter." The Seven were quicker with their remark. The colossus nodded solemnly, after a time.
"Yet nobility is not requisite of respect" it brought them yet higher "do you drape yourself in lupine shadow from noble intent, or from another aspect which could constitute respect?"
They had to think on this, for themselves they would have liked to believe it was indeed out of nobility that they were clad in darkness yet in truth...
Curiosity
"It is curiosity that shades us here" The ascent stopped at a great height, the canopy yet held above them, though the branches that surrounded them were thin and held new life sprouting from their ends.
There came a pause.
"Curiosity is indeed an aspect of respect." her voice was quiet amongst the young leaves, though harsh as frost.
"Tell me how" came the colossus. The seven sat back, observing her as she spoke. They were content to absorb her, her manner and her dichotomy entirely unique in their understanding. Her voice came from behind fangs sharp as razors, yet the words were gentle as a fresh rain on warm sand.
"Curiosity is the desire for empathy. It is the request of new knowledge from one who has it and in doing so it is the acknowledgement of a respect for that knowledge and that one." She reached out and plucked a fresh leaf from the nearby tree. "We are degrees of separation from one another and yet..." she passed her hand, black and wizened over the new green which shrivelled and died in her palm. "Without respect of you I cannot be curious about you" she passed her hand, now youthful and unblemished back across the husk she held. From it unfurled the leaf, bright and green and fresh with life as she placed it back onto the branch with a whisper. "Without respect for what you know I cannot understand it, without respect of you I cannot learn it from you and become more than I was." There was a pause.
"Twilight walks amongst the trees, footsteps cold upon the leaves,
Flowers wilt and new growths die, slick upon her hand blood does lie,
Trunks shall burst, branches wither, shadows melt and fresh light falter,
Yet for all that rots and lies forgotten, it is in twilight that beauty blossoms."
They began to lower once more, dropping gently between the thickening branches to be placed light across the ground once more. The seven leapt gracefully from the colossus to the moss strewn earth where she joined them, though she turned.
"Your story is long old one, yet I do not think it is written yet."
"I do not believe so either, there is a great deal more... curiosity yet held in this forest, for those that still wish to find it."
The great shadow fell away from them, travelling beyond their understanding once more. The seven-and-one stood for a time, comprehending, before they left once more.
Cold and quiet they slipped unnoticed. Small shadows swept softly by as looming giants remained at a careful distance. The seven moved deftly, their form comparable to those that swam beyond them, blended, moulded. At once unique and uniform. For a great deal of time seven-and-one trod their fresh path, her hand lightly resting upon them, their feet making not a note upon the deep moss covered ground.
They paused by the trunk of an old oak tree. The seven looked up to its branches, angry and twisted, the weight of infinite years pressing heavy on each one. "She looks tired" they breathed.
A tiredness comes for the end of all things...
"They are. Their story is written, long and mighty though it has been, all things must have an ending." Seven looked at her, their great shadow swept head forlorn in its visage. She did not look down to them, but rather laid a soft hand upon the lichen crusted bark. "Without endings the twisting would become unbearable, the weight grows too much and gnarled roots would dig too deep so that they become snares and continuation is nothing but a series of half pains." She pressed her face to the tree as she spoke, as angry as a storm's first thunder and yet serene as the calm sun that follows a violent night.
She breathed gently and with one smooth movement pushed a delicate, clawed hand through the trunk she had rested on. Cracked bark and rotten heartwood giving way to her. Deep into the tree she reached, until her arm was submerged. Her great and beautiful wings wrapped the ancient tree to hold the balance as she stood. The seven perceived a great pain and allowed a small whine of sympathy and affection to escape the shadow's blackened jaws, for it was not the tree that felt white knives pierce its heart, but her. With a final yet imperceptible shudder the great oak passed.
...and twilight will be there as the threshold is reached.
She breathed in gently and began to pull her arm from him once more. All around them the great branches began to fall, splintering from their lofty heights to land amongst the grass and ferns of the forest floor, rending ground and any that grew within it. Great crashes and cracks echoed easily through the shadow beyond the seven's singular points though the dark would not react to the cataclysm. Finally she withdrew her fist, holding the still beating heart of the tree softly between her laced fingers.
Branches shattered, leaves cried out all at once and the trunk exploded into a thousand jagged edges, bringing what was left of the mighty giant collapsing to the earth in ash and fire and rainwater, though the seven-and-one paid it no mind. Amidst the violent end she softly lay the heart back to the earth, finding a very proper place for it to nestle beneath the intermittent shade of two caring old briar bushes as the cacophonous final notes came to their end around them.
Ash and curled leaves fell in silence now to patter upon the forest floor with new life, potential green to blossom at the sun's break. They walked on. Where briefly the violence of ending held sway, now only the excitement of newness had power, settled deep beneath the ancient forest's bounds.
In time, or in no time.
after a passage
After a passage the seven-and one came to a clearing. Seven padded on, though she had halted, unlikely though it may seem. It had come to be that they had happened upon another light, a light that had not come from the seven points bathed in shadow.
"Oh now" she muttered quietly to herself, though the volume carried enough for the seven to comprehend. "No. No no no. I am sorry"
Tears fell from angry eyes. She beheld them with a sad and apologetic look. "No I am sorry. This isn't... this cannot be." There was a soft growl. A shadow, a shadow with subtle edges lay in the clearing. From beneath it there dared to shine some quiet glow. Something that shouldn't have been. Even to the stars and their predilection to light, they knew, had learnt that this escaped beam was unnatural, unhappy.
She stepped close but the growl filled the clearing. Harsh and cold and crystalline it raked against the soft bark of the trees and the seven felt the oppressive presssure of their initial worry press close once more, despite her presence. It was more than should have been there. The small shadow growled once more to fill the space to the brim and overflow it, corrupting the dark with jagged edges. She stood back and held her face.
"I cannot." she whispered, angry and desperate and utterly miserably she beheld the small shadow. It's cold light flared and died again as it struggled to contain itself. "it should not be this. This is not here, is not.... right" there was a pause. The small shadow whimpered softly, an attempt to continue the growl, though now more in tune to the steady breaths of wind, to the fluttering of leaves
the poor shadow
Do not feel pity, for in all things out of place there is the virtue of others, should they be so prepared. Though perhaps this shadow had found more virtue than fortune would otherwise award.
"Be strong" seven whispered. Jaws parted and quiet words slipped from the shadow's maw. "be more, be better. What this is, is for you, or it would not be here"
She stiffened and beheld them with a glare. It was ferocious. At once teeth and claws whilst baleful serenity and despair, cold hearted loathing with desperate plees for sympathy.
"This is that yes and it is... it is chaos."
This is chaos
"Chaos?"
" yes, it both is and it isn't."
"Like you?"
"No i am where I must be. This..." her face twisted beyond the usual dichotomy "this is where it isn't, mustn't be where it must, fights to finish, was where wasn't hurts in painless quiet is loud in silence, is is is is sis is so much nothing" there was pain there now, she doubled over "everything, holes in everything pain peace perfect peach large small" she was now terrifying and sympathetic, a firestorm of fury as she writhed against her words, against the clearing bounds, at once cruelty incarnate and the eye of the storm she created "give given gave was were weren't, don't talk: listen listen! more breath breathe breathed cold quiet small things in smaller things, be you be me, be us, be perfect, perfection. perforated small small small is is sis is issnisisisisisisis quiet loud so loud screaming! quietly small given sounds force forcing fathom forthright forethought fight burn burning blemish blossom. blossom... blossom." she stilled slowly.
"Blossom. Blossom... bloom... blur." her form settled again "blurred bliss."
She knelt, racked by sobs of abject despair across the low grass. The burnt ring of ashes slowly sprouted around her. Small blades of grass grew softly to lean against the collapsed body she made, wings now small and held close. The broken-lighted shadow was still beside her, untouched by the flame of her fury it moved not an inch.
"I am sorry"
"No. We would not have it" seven had been still through fire and pain. They had watched, nestled on their haunches as infernos of words and emotion had scoured the ground and sky around them. They had absorbed it and their shade had wept. Before them they beheld her in vulnerability and they remained unblemished, undefined, unrippled by what was. The shadow was still, though it was not her making. Now its light began to leak evermore. "Sorry is not for you to lay at this one's feet." They stood, taking several wilful steps forward, paws leaving no imprint upon the deep bluegreen moss. "Sorry is for fault of your own. It is not for missing fault, it cannot be for misery, it cannot be in idle loss when nothing else is found to be said. To apologise is to admit a failing of your own effort." they leant to the split shadow, now sinking gently upon the leaves, light breaking from ever more rends in its fabric. "What this is, is for us, or we would not be here: light in darkness, swirled chaos amongst the uniform, seven walk and twilight will tread in their steps" the seven turned their great head and smiled at her
half-lit paws
"yet it is not by their paws that twilight must roam" She stood then, face downcast, beholding the small patch of half-light between the forest's darkness and the luminescence of the seven. "It is a small mercy" she whispered, the breeze upon the trees.
"Sometimes that is all we can give." They came forward to the quiet dead and breathed gently, the soft glow from within their shadow briefly emerging from their jaws revealed dull red fur before it was gone. The small, still shadow stirred. It's matted coat sat half illuminated in the seven's precise points, as she did. A distinct red and dusky brown sat slick upon the green forest floor within the foreign shadow. "Be brave little one" she whispered "Be brave. In quiet there is more, in balance there is comfort." Seven turned finally to her.
"There is more than dark to this. Chaos is merely a form of misunderstanding, of curiosity faltered. Often curiosity is enough" they turned back to the broken shadow, appraising it "but often it is not, it is required to be aware of more. Of ideas beyond you, beyond where we dwell, beyond..."
the space between worlds
between light and dark
between your story and the stories beyond
"darkness seems so final, the shadow seems so very irrevocable and permanent." they turned back to the pierced form, now softly breathing upon the floor, though light still burst from small seams upon its body. "But if that were true, what is true of the state that came before? From where does shadow spring? From where does the story begin? We are for the most part the product of one side or the other, very rarely some must walk the line that borders us."
"Those doomed to a twilight"
"Yet without those who would walk between, those who trod one side could not influence the other." The seven stepped forward a final time and leant over the bursting shadow. "Seven in light, draped in shadow. It is a good bridge between the teo, though you are more, are you not?" They beheld her one last time.
"Softly now, be brave"
They opened their maw, wider this time and pure starlight spilled forth, burst with radiance for an instance and was gone, the small panting shadow along with it.
Quiet then the clearing held them. Six-and-one curled softly upon the deep moss, their glow undimmed yet their place more secure. Her wings engulfed her and released as softly as breathing, slowly they revealed cold and warmth, light and dark, fury and serenity upon a whisper as the half light of six held her close. The small soft shoots of new grass slipped between their fingertips.
This story was inspired in part by the music videos of the Valtari Film Project, in particular Aiden Gillan's performance for Ekki Mukk:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cAxLZpelmQ&list=PL63046F2E19699AA9&index=11
In Part by the art of Chiara Bautista:
http://www.chiarabautista.com/
And for the most part by a deeply felt personal loss.
For M.