Where Magic was understood

Where Magic was understood.

Oriel stood on the slope. He was dressed is his favorite undergarments and cloak. There was thunder and lightning as the air pressure dropped and the winds from the highlands brought in the rain on strong gusts with more lightning.

He returned to the garret where he was wont to spend his days writing of the things that have been. The old house was one he had inherited from his family who were minstrels and people of the road from a previous era.

When things were different years ago the family was on the road with music, plays and goods that were trafficked as needed items of clothing or just articles people could use. These were particularly well received as all were handmade by his family and were aesthetic, artistic creations.

Some years ago, he had taken to writing, so that, his experiences he’d lived through could be recorded. Then, there was a large family, but now, there was only him and the house here on the cliff.

Now in the early afternoon the rain had abated and the sun was shining on the mountain again. Oriel decided to go down to the diggings in the grotto again. This was his favorite pastime when he broke from his engagement with writing. He took the stair to the front of the building and crossed the level area below the house on the edge of the cliff.

It was wet and there was running water off the mountain still deluging into the gulleys on the way to the stream below the house. It was picturesque and invigorating in the cool afternoon, but importantly the path to the mine was uncluttered and safe even while still wet now. It had often been scattered with rock fragments from the cliff above. Oriel stopped and viewed the house and the panorama out across the commons below; where the village nestled to one side and the open fields spread out further afield of the community called Hawks Lane.

Hawks’ lane was not always as it is currently. It used to be a meeting ground where all the Gypsies congregated in the fields after their travels. It had eventually become the home camp when they returned. Now it had grown into a town with some of the subsequent generations of nomads actually settled maintaining, farms with some livestock and crops. 

He shook his head as if to shake off the flood of memories that avalanched in upon him and turned to the stairway into the grotto. At the entrance he placed his palm on the lintel and the door opened. He entered, stood on the counterweight to the left of the doorway and held the handle in the rotating pillar, as it turned and inverted so that he could exit to the floor below.

 No one had ever discovered the grotto. It had been set up with the first Chieftain almost a century earlier. The entrance procedure had only been known by a select few even in those days. He now walked into the open passage before him and where it turned there was another doorway. He walked into an alcove to the left and placed his hand into a shallow recess and the door opened. He sealed it again by repeating the procedure from the inside.

There was a short stairway down which he went into the grotto. It was a vast chamber with stalagmites that rose from the ground with diameters of over 5 feet and some were almost complete from floor to ceiling where they met the stalactites. It was a magnificent spectacle on the shore of a large lake; still, ink-blue with water the stretched into the dark beyond. There was one source of daylight through the roof from a narrow chimney that had with centuries eroded a path through the stone from above into the grotto to the lake.

Oriel turned to a rockface where there was a control panel, opened the cover, pressed a toggle-switch and a rope dropped from above. He pulled the rope and the lights went on in the grotto. It was a display that he cherished but also with a twinge of guilt. It was so spectacular it should be shared and not be secret; which it has been all these years; even from the other community members and the rest of Britain.

The canoe was lashed to the stalagmite at the foot of the path to the main grotto. He hoisted himself into the canoe and paddled across the lake for some 50 to 70 meters and turned in towards the bank where there was a strong current and pulled the canoe into the current. He stopped rowing to let the stream take him further. In about 15 minutes he could hear the waterfall and began to slow the craft looking for the docking hitch above the waterfall.

He was calm but strained to scan the rockface for the recognizable hitch that he was used to. He turned the canoe and made a second pass along the same route. He didn’t find the hitch. Now he became concerned as he had never had this uncertainty on any previous trip.

He rummaged in the bottom the canoe for the flash light. The canoe was now in the strong stream being pulled to the waterfall. He was still calm but was anxious about the missing hitch, which threw him off guard and now he was in the fast stream downstream towards the waterfall, which was a new threat.

He started paddling to get the canoe under control. He didn’t find the flash light and abandoned the search for attention to his safety now. He started thinking of ditching the canoe and trying to swim to the rockface and realized that he was now in danger and panic whelmed up in him.

He used forceful strokes on the oars to counter the direction of the canoe’s drift, but seemed to be losing the battle. He really applied force to the oars, the canoe was rocking from side to side with the effort and his next stroke missed the water and Oriel slipped on the canoe bottom, lunged into the side of the canoe and went over the side.

…………….

He opened his eyes and his immediate thought was that he had died. What he saw was an angel in his vision – a woman that ranked as the most captivating presence and beautiful person he had seen. Stunned he was speechless. She asked how he felt, but he could not answer. He was dumb with awe.

She asked if he was hungry. His mind ran amok with his predicament. His thought was…’I did not know that they ate in heaven.’ He stuttered to try an answer. It was a failure of communicate. Nothing seemed to fit. She held his hand and said very calmingly. “Please rest! Take it easy and don’t rush! I will come back. Here is a buzzer press it if you need help or want to talk.”

…………………..

Oriel lay awake and looked at the ceiling of the high painted wood beams and looked about at the well-furnished room. He had no recollection of how he came to be at this place. He was now doubting that he was in heaven, then remembered the buzzer. He found it pressed it twice and tried to sit up in the bed.

He was assaulted by the most vicious pain and collapsed back on the bed. He lay moaning in the bed when the angel appeared at his side. She said nothing.

Oriel tried again to sit up and collapsed again moaning. She let him be.

After some time, she asked how he felt now.

I still could not utter what was on his mind nor express myself. She spoke. “Are you hungry?”

She then repeated what she had said previously and left.

…………………

Some time passed and I lay once more contemplating the ceiling and the room. But decided not to try sitting up so I pressed the buzzer first.

The angel arrived at my bedside.

I looked her in the eye. She did not blink and in the pools of her eyes I saw compassion and such a depth of patience I concentrated on that and tried to speak.

‘Who are you?’ echoed in the room.

I realized I had shouted it out to make sure it got out and could be heard.

Though she winced with the impact of the sound of my shout she replied calmly and softly that she was Angel and was part of a group of towns people that found me on the river bank unconscious.

I tried again this time croaking a bit but I asked if she knows me.

” No, we were hoping you could tell us that.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Two weeks.”

“Where is here?”

“This town i[..]