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Mittwoch, 18. Juli 2012

The Wanderer Through the gates-The legend of the giant´s gate


Once upon a time, in a time that was not a time, in a place, that was not a place, far back in a history that was a story told by the wind, a spookseer and shaman was born in the land of the peoples, which was known as the Dhiudha-land. He was born a heir to a family of seers, of farmers and warriors even, all of which had the gift of the second sight. They knew how to bespeak horses´illnesses, they knew what herbs were good against the many maladies that so easily befall man, and since the mists of time had settled, loved, fought, and lived there in the ancient rolling hills. And it were so that this shaman was born at the dawn of a new day and light was shining through the leaves of a grove that were young and beautiful like the child. 

 And the child grew and learned to live, and it was soon told that he had extraordinary properties of sight and power. Thus it came to the attention of the great killer, the antagonist, a giant amongst demons, and a demon amongst giants. A guardian was he beside the portal of rebirth, and a peril on the path of a shaman, and a curse to the spookseer on his way along the river of agnition that flows two ways.
 And there came a day when the child was growing older that it learned it was on a path, and a wanderer did it become on strange and wonderful trails. Into the depths of the thicket he ventured, swift and nimble as a stag, and strong and enduring like a wolf on his pursuit of the way. It was then that he heard the path led to a gate, and the gate led to a dale, and in the dale thence was a realm of twilight where knowledge dwelt. And he ventured into the ancient realm of Worah - Hall, which at that time spread wide through the ancient hills, hours and hours on end under the rich, red soil of the hills, and one of its main vestiges was to be found near *Klauti-Rad, the main fortress of the dwarves at that time. Long and winding were his wanderings, and many adventures he experienced on his way along the river that flows two ways, where he leaped along like a salmon on his journey towards the well, well shadowed by nine trees. Twilight was a mantle he acquired, a sword he found out of wind, and a stone to built a fortress on. But all those are other tales that shall not be subject to my story and will maybe told at another fire. But twilight was along his path, and it was in this twilight that he met with the dwarves of *Klauti-Rad, along the soil-clod-road, as it translates from the ancient tongue of the dwellers underground of the ancient race of Dúrinn.
 And after all those many errations on his path, he felt tired, and the dwarves welcomed him as a guest, for they knew him for what he was and saw no evil in his soul. Ancient wine and choice meals they did offer him, and rest came to him like a healthy sleep, deep in the crevices of the dwarven palaces, which were lit by golden lanterns. There he rested, and his weariness subsided, and the blisters upon his feet and the wounds of his soul healed in the endless gateways of sinter and sandstone rock. Many things did he learn thence from the underground folk, but eventually there came a day when he had to take his leave.

And the dwarf who had been his tutor and companion came to him with a magic fox, and the fox looked at him through a veil of twilight mist behind his eyes. And being a spookseer, the wanderer understood.
 The dwarf thence addressed him and gave many a good counsil, not the least being that he should cling to the fox´s tail on his journey and to never let loose of it. And he led the spookseer ever so much deeper into the halls of the dwarvenfolk, deeper than he had ever ventured before. Wilder and darker the tunnels became, and there was a strange air of power and a stench of stone and water, of burning amber and carbide, of ozone and steel, getting ever so much stronger the deeper they came. And there, near the edge of the dwarven kingdom, where no light dwelt, and the heart of the mountain beat with the strong and violent pulse of the land, his tutor took his leave with a glint in his eye.
 And as the wanderer was standing there, alone in the dark, while the little spark of light that was his companion was all but exterminated by the veil of darkness, another darkness rose, and at the heart of the darkness there was a deeper darkness. And at the heart of this deepest darkness, there was a pulse to be felt. And ever so much deeper the fox led the wanderer, and this was but the first hour. And it was behind the gates that all voice was lost in stillness, all sound was extinguished by the darkness, all tutoring subsided. It was at that gate that a fox statue stood guard to guide the way ever deeper into the blackness.


And on he ventured, clinging to the fox´tail, and the fox, with sparkling eyes, guided him well, for she alone could see in the bitter void.
And as he ventured ever deeper, it was in the second hour that he reached a hall, painfully brightly lit in its darkness, with a white light shining that was a darkness black as void, and a secret it was, hidden beneath the root of rock itself. A sun shone there and truth it was embedded jewelly bright in the utter darkness. So bright was this light which a light was not that all lies were burned and taken from him, leaving him with the cruel sincerity of a child.

And on he ventured, ever so much deeper, into the domain of the lightless ones, the spirits of earth, wind, fire and water, dwelling deep down underground, caught notice of him and were furious that he entered his domain. And with their claws and tongues of flame and gusts of wind and blades of obsidian they bore upon him to cut him to pieces. To pieces he was cut and the spirits of the elements, the spirits of the living, and the spirits of the dead feasted on his flesh and the marrow of his bones. This was the third hour.

But all the while his hand clung to the fox´s tail, and the fox let go a mighty howl, and in the massive face of the darken rock a gate opened with a green light shining in the dark, and in the green light there a tree was growing.
Forth strode she from the virile light, she of the guidance and the healing, and she commanded the spirits to carry the parts of his body onwards on the path, and through the gates of the fourth hour. She walked with them, always into the direction of the West, where over the cauldron of wisdom shone a silver line, the path of dreams, and there the fox led the spirits by her command. Tears of diamond light she cried over the carcass, the shaman unborn. Towards the hall they ventured, and deep inside the hall there was a well, embroidered with runes of moonlight silver along its glassen edges of deep blue. Vast was this chalice, so vast that noone can estimate its width, nor depth, nor the tides of its waters, and of a deep blue colour was the light that shone from it, a chalice it was of inspiration, and there she took the body parts of the shaman unborn and cleansed and consecrated them, all the while singing her runes. And then she kissed the fox and upon its back she bound the parts of the shaman unborn.

On went the fox through the gates of the seventh hour, and there was another gate, and by the gate a terrible guardian stood, but the fox simply passed through his legs, that were set in too wide a stance, by cunning and swiftness the animal trespassed below the attention of the great one.
Thus they came into a great cave, and in the cave there was a smithy, and there was a great iron serpent, and in the jaws of the serpent the antagonist worked and wrought, his head enthralled by rainbow mists and a cloak of starlight mist; he stood and wrought, with the hammer of green light upon an anvil of force. And he forged the bones of the shaman anew, and wrought new sinews out of steel, and knotworks of gold and silver, and clothed the shaman unborn anew with a mantle of flesh. And thus passed the eighth hour.
And she of the great healing stood near the gate and took the shaman newborn, who was still weak, and nine was the number of her maiden virgins she had with her. And the ninth one was clad in armour and had a bitter spear and a furious sword to ward off the demons. And thus the tenth hour passed, with the slaying of the demon deceivers. On the shaman ventured, towards the river that flows out into the world of the living, the world of green and of the day, on the bark of the moon into the starlit realm, and from the starlit realm into the dawning light, and he came into a cave complex of twilight. There a hare sat, and the fox wanted to take her leave, but firm was the grip of the newborn shaman. The fox wanted to hunt, but firm was the clasp on her tail, and the shaman did not let her. He clung to her tail, and he went on and on through the complex, and ahead of them the hare ran. Towards the gates they ran. And there they stood, beneath the arch of stone, and there was a mighty roar to be heard....
...to be continued...;-)

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