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    MrM
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Second Circlet: The Old Places - 1. Segment 1: She Is Alone

Tears.

Water cries when she weeps, for in the form of Water she can cry for what has been lost in a way nothing else can.
 
His core is rotting. It comes up from the Deep. Oh the Black Deep! The Thing in the Depths will lead them here. Without Father Brazil Nut Tree to defend Om'aga M'tOCK'n Ah, as the forest men call the Old Forest, it will be harvested. Men hunger as the Dragon eats what they need. The Cold Day comes to the hot place and food and money are getting scarcer. Men, ever hungry, ever needing, must kill what they can to survive.
 
But Myrex does not hate them. The Third of the Children are being murdered....and they don't even know it.
 
The rain falls harder as Myrex cries for them and Old Father Brazil Nut Tree tries....and one last bud does he give to her.
 
Extricating herself from His cambium, she takes form on His branch glistening as water and ethereal as air.
 
Myrex stretches her gossamer wings, an affectation she borrowed the look of from a dragonfly's wings. She no longer needed her wings as she was beyond mere physical reality now. The Ages had matured her so that she was now all spirit as well as all material. But, she likes the look of her wings. They complete her and ground her to this World unto which she will be forever bound.
 
She is the only one. She is the last one. She is the last of the Fae upon the earth. She is the last Caretaker and the oldest of God's First offspring under the Angels that are left upon the earth.
 
Now she, the last of her kind, takes the last bloom from the last of the Great Elder Brazil Nut Trees in the Old Forest. She takes it as he, at last, passes into death. She can feel the faint creek of the ancient wood as the Tree's life-force departs forever from this world to return to God.
 
Her grief becomes thunder. Her wrath lightning. Her cries the sqwakings of parrots taken to flight in their fear of the worsening storm.
 
Before all control is lost and her wrath becomes the death of more living things in the forest she reigns in her heartbreak. The bloom she holds in her delicate ethereal hands she encases in white amber that then turns to diamond adamant. She lets the last of the blooms fall to the earth where it will be covered by the Elder Tree's children and enshrined within their roots until the end of days...which were coming so soon now. So soon...unless the Twining of Three can be made true.
 
The Triad of Fae, Sídhe, and Mankind must become one blood and one word and fight off the Dragon in Its pit and Its servants beyond the veil.
 
Wretched lost Morgana...Myrex's one time beautiful queen and mother of Tyriel, Myrex's mate, she serves a master she doesn't understand and if she does, she, then, has a greater sin on her withered soul.
 
Tyriel! Oh, Tyriel! My lost love.
 
Together with him, Myrex had sired many Fae children. They loved and their love gave their home in The Golden Grotto its gold and its light. All who were allowed to come to the place felt their joy. A rainbow had always been permanently fixed to the Grotto so that it could always be found when needed.
 
Often, upon their passing into the Light, she would lead the aged among men and women as a willow-the-whisp to the Golden Grotto. Together they would spend their last days, singing of the beautiful things that were shared in Avalon. She would soothe their body's useless aches as their times approached. Then the Miracle of Men would visit upon the old ones and their human flesh would be cast aside in favor of spirit forms to walk among the Angels.
 
But, alas, Tyriel became Tyrex, servant to his mother Morgana just as Myra had became Myrex and served her too, until she fell away and became the Fae Queen's enemy. Tyrex could never break his mother's hold over him. He descended with her into madness and became a murderer just as his mother was.
 
Myrex thanked the Angelic Powers that helped her escape the banishment of her kind from the physical sphere. It left her as the last of the Fae in the world. The Caretaker. Omi'NA-ha as the forest people call her now. She came after to the greenest and oldest of all forests on the earth. It is known as Amazon to the world and so to her also is the vast forest named.
 
Now, something had changed.
 
She could feel The Thing slithering in the depths beneath her. The Dragon had never bothered with her before. It had never seen any reason to. It had focused on destroying Mankind. War and all the Horsemen that followed: It instigated all. Yet, men did not fail. They did not die. They flourished and grew stronger and stronger. Faith overflowed in places simple and loving. Humanity suffered only to become more than their flesh. Those that could not withstand the onslaught were pardoned and made great in spirit.
 
The Dragon has been utterly defeated on that front. Mankind has resolved itself to be the strongest of the Three. The Sídhe and the Fae both failed in their works. The Sídhe were given eternal rest and the Fae were put away in a prison outside of the flow of life. But, men, mortal unto the relief of their massive Angelic spirits, persevered and made of the horror things of greatness. Churches, Temples, Houses of Thinking, Grand Pantheons for Justice and right ordering through written law. True creation and true promise of a race that would one day ascend the World and become universal in its scope!
 
Myrex felt a pride well up in her for these men her kind would have sought to extinguish in their infancy. It is no wonder the Dragon worked so utterly hard for their destruction. They are the final proof of Its failure. They are weak but in their weakness strong. Strong in love which the Thing cannot or will not understand. That...that love is what defeats It. The Dragon is devoid of love. It is dead of love and by it undone.
 
But, upon these things Myrex had mused trillions upon trillions of times. More than once, every day, back through time even unto the time she once knew that was no more. The time of Avalon, the great Northern Forest and the home of many that no longer can live there.
 
Avalon and Amazon: a strange coincidence of common names from entirely different human cultures. For Myrex, the names were expressed in verses built of feeling and dancing elements for that was, for her, the easiest way to communicate; through nature. But even in this non-sounded language the names 'Avalon' and 'Amazon' we're sisters. They had been tied together until the fall of Avalon and then Amazon and her children Congon and Indion were without their beloved northern elder family member.
 
Echoes of Avalon remain in the world even to this day. Chiefly in the North American continent. Golden places still glow as winter comes and green places grow when spring has begun. That lightened shade of green and gold seen through branching laces can still be seen. But, again, men ever has had need of the trees to build and to make fire to keep warm. Now, in the modern day, the men of the North have seen at last what they were losing and seek to keep at least part of what once was. Myrex has had many longing nights wanting to reach up to 'El Norte', as the indigenous call it, to see the beautiful remnants of Avalon. But her duties were to Amazon...where here lifeblood powers the burgeoning of life here.
 
Here, alas, the men of Brazil have not yet seen the wisdom of their northern brothers. They fell large sections of Amazon to power their trades. But, then again, by cultural ways completely alien to Myrex, the men of the Amazon are more desperate and have so much less than those in the north yet here, in this place so old, is wealth beyond the imaginings of any of the Triad.
 
Myrex finds herself losing herself to these thoughts. She wonders if it is not a way to escape what she needs to face. The Dragon is *here* now beneath her, hunting her, killing her forest and she does not know why!
 
It is then that she feels something cut her consciousness keen as any Sídhe blade. She feels a tearing and in her way she gasps sending the trees around her to shudder and the monkeys to scream and panic in their branches.
 
She does something she has not done in ages of the world, she reaches out through the Waters and the Ethers to explore the world entire. Through these humours she can extract the source of the awful disturbance. The strain is tremendous and Myrex nearly falters in her effort.
 
But, after much struggle and much winnowing of unrelated emanations, Myrex finds the source of the trauma. To her horror, the searing tear in her being becomes nothing compared to the sinking terror that fills her soul.
 
Morgana is coming!
Morgana is coming!
 
This...this is why the Dragon seeks to delay Myrex with these tactics. It does not want her to interfere with the coming of the Fae back into the living world! It has, at last, the weapon it needs to end life on earth. The Fae, in their warped desire to 'fix things' will kill all and leave the world a lifeless husk like all the other worlds in the nine worlds. It...the Dragon...will have its last laugh after all. It will have proven Itself...right.
 
Despair.
 
How can this be? How can the Veil be torn? That wrought by God should not be breakable! His will is all...unless this IS His will. What cold rises in Myrex's heart. She is betrayed! She is to play witness to the Ending. After so vast a time wedded to loneliness and wandering, such a decision by the Source of all Life, burns like white fire.
 
"Why? Why? Why have you betrayed me? Why have you lead me to naught!" She asks of her Maker. He will not answer. If He wills it, then it must be. Myrex has wasted her existence. It has all been pointless. In the end, it is nothing but a game for cosmic chess players.
 
To God, we are nothing but pawns on His board!
 
Myrex winces as her form begins to blacken and swirl with iridescent colours. Her eyes catch flame and her heart begins to burn with hate. Morgana has been right all along and Myrex has been a fool!
 
God is the enemy! All that he has made...is pointlesssssss...
 
Ssssssssss!
 
"Be silent." A voice from the forest comes. It is an old husky voice roughened by age and drink.
 
Then, there IS silence. A peace befalls the Old Forest. Not even the insects buzz. The only sound is a slithering and a hateful hissing.
 
"You will be silent and go from here." The Voice speaks in a calm command.
 
The hissing becomes less and there is a slight tremor in the ground.
 
"Go." He says one last time and a darkness lifts from the Forest and a sun that hasn't shined in days suddenly peaks through the lacy leaves of the great canopy.
 
Myrex feels herself revert to her true, loving form. The blackness lifts and she feels like a weight of a thousand thousand tons has been lifted from her. She finally looks to the direction of the Voice.
 
An old native man stands there clothed in taters of leather and a donated cloth shirt and jeans. He is shod in homemade sandals and His hair is long and gray and His face is darkly complected and weathered. No beard rests on His chin nor mustache from His lip. He has the glistening dark eyes of his people.
 
"Come, little Caretaker. We have to go now." The Shaman beckons for Myrex to come to Him. Myrex feels an overwhelming desire to join this man, but why is He even capable of this? No man has ever seen Myrex since the time of Avalon. How does this One even know she is here and how does He know to look exactly where she is resting?
 
"Come." The Voice utters with profound gentleness and love.
 
Myrex finds that she no longer wishes to hide from this man. He is...very special! He is so much bigger than his body is showing.
 
So, Myrex flutters down to the forest floor and expands herself to a more human size. The Shaman makes no move to suggest He fears her.
 
"We have work to do, Little Myra. The time has come." The Shaman says simply and peacefully. Myrex wonders that this One speaks her name from the time before when she was not alone in the world.
 
She doesn't know if she can tell if this One is a human who will need food and rest during their journey or if this entity is more than his physical appearance seems to suggest.
 
"Who are you? How were you able to drive off the Thing below us?" She asks using her voice.
 
"The one who digs beneath us works too hard to get anywhere. He will go find you and attempt to turn you again. But you are strong in your faith. You will not fade." The Shaman explains. He speaks with an authority Myrex cannot help but rest in.
 
"But, who are you? How is it that you come here? How IS it that you can see me and bring me from my sullen perch?" Myrex insists upon answers to her questions.
 
"You I have known for a long time. You have remained faithful. You can still love. This place is here because you love it. You are a Caretaker. But...you are not the only one, Myra. There...is another." The Shaman says and Myrex's being shivers and about her the trees shiver and about the trees the rain comes.
 
The Shaman stands in the rain. The wetness adorns Him like diamonds. It touches Him but does not soak Him. He raises His head to the rain and laughs and the sound causes joy to fill all.
 
The Shaman raises his hands to the rain and touches it like a lover, bringing it to His mouth to kiss and suckle upon it. Myrex feels herself melt in love and joy at a sensation she can only describe as a kiss. She now knows. She now knows who this One is!
 
Beyond her will Myrex sinks to her 'knees' as she cannot help herself. Her eyes glow with the colours of the rainbow and her 'face' smiles and she is happier than she has ever been!
 
The Shaman reaches out again and His laughter becomes a music. Before him Father Brazil Nut Tree groans his greatness and his leaves appear and his blossoms bloom again and his arbor shines with a green not seen in a life's age of the earth! That which was dead...yet again...LIVES!
 
Myrex prostrates....
 
"Oh my Lord! You have come to me at last! After eons of prayer!" Myrex sobs in joy.
 
"I have never left you my beloved. I have been always been with you. I needed you here. I needed you to keep this place and you have...faithfully! Well done, my darling child! I am...so very proud of you!" He lifts Myrex without touching her and pulls her into an embrace she cannot resist.
 
Upon His embrace Myrex is stirred from insane joy to placid everlasting happiness. She will forever be wiser and stronger from this touch.
 
All around her the Old Forest is renewed. The years and years of decline are reversed within moments. Birds call in joy as fruits not tasted in hundreds of years suddenly come forth. Father Brazil Nut Tree gives his special fruit to the monkeys. A treat unknown to generations upon generations of the winsome animals. They screech and bellow with joy everywhere!
 
The Jungle is happy and this happiness expands outward from the center of Amazon. Life returns. Axes and saws fail. Men are taken up in vines as large as arms and leaves as big as beds. They are given to drink unknown nectars that cure them of ills and they are given fruits that end hunger for days. They will go forth from this day proclaiming this miracle and the Governments of South America will, with mysterious acceptance, take heed and protect what has been found.
 
It is Rebirth...for He has willed it!
 
"Soy El Soñadoro a las Sueñas. I am the Dreamer of Dreams. What I Dream...is. Take heart. The nightmare will be ending. But you must come with Me, Myra. The destiny I need for you must be fulfilled. You must join with My other two children and put an end to something that is not what I want." The Great Dreamer says. He then asks: "Will you come with me?"
 
"Where it is You lead, my Lord, I will follow." Myra speaks with her entire will and her entire love.
 
"Where you go, my beloved, I will make sure and solid." The Dreamer says in loving response.
 
"What of the Great Forest? Without me will it no be in danger?" Myra does not yet grasp what has been done.
 
"They will care for it now. It is theirs for I have given it to them. Your watch is done here. We must go now." The Dreamer speaks and Myra sees in her soul what He means.
 
She sees the indigenous of this land caring for this land and she sees those who came later helping them. It is a joy she can barely contain!
 
So, her work now done here, Myra takes flight and becomes one with the wind and travels away from this Forest she has loved and guarded for thousands of years. For the first time in forever, she goes back...home! Guided by the images in her mind, Myra knows where she must go.
 
But who the other caretaker is, this The Dreamer does not dream for her as yet. It is as it should be. Myra has faith.
 
She flies far to fulfill her destiny whatever that dream may be!
span style="font-size:1.7em;line-height:1.4em;">Thank you for reading
Comments are always welcome.
Michael DuMonte
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p style="text-align:center;"> Please leave a comment or you may make a Leprechaun mad at you. 😝
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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