May 22 2009
The Magnificent
Many centuries ago, under an aging fig tree,
whose roots spread deep into a bubbling brook, sat Cecilio Silvio. His long fingers stroked slightly through his thinning and tangled gray beard. Silvio’s silent jade eyes had a milky exterior, which ought to have blinded him. However, his sightless gaze provided him with greater clarity in his other senses.
The wind played harmoniously through the swaying alders, willows, and elms found along the banks, signaling to him. Silvio’s bones ached as he lifted himself from the earth, upon which he sat. Despite his decaying and withered mortal shell, his soul still felt relatively youthful and whole.
A cold shiver ran up through his bare soles as he dipped his toes into the cool waters lapping on the shore’s edge. He continued his descent into the shallow, pebble-bottomed waters. The wind chimed louder. Raising his hands, he parted them in a welcoming motion. The leaves lifted from forest’s floor, traveling, singing and chattering, and encircled the elder man. He leaned back, his jade eyes shone brightly through the cloudy film. He closed his eyes. Then the wind spoke.
ж
Mother Nature cowered in fear as the ground shook under the thunderous hooves of sinister beasts. Even the sun could not penetrate the dark shadows that trampled over the earth. From the woods of ancient timber they surged, leaving the trees to cringe in their wake.
Fire was set to a once charming pueblo high up in the hills of Andalusia. The cries of a child were swept away by the wind, carried to the ears of a bent, elderly man, far, far away. The tears of the boy, burned his eyes, bleeding down his soft cheeks, staining his face, as he watched his parents, tied together, being thrown into the flames engulfing his home. The shadowy figures, who gazed beyond the crime they had committed, had a conviction of credence in what they had done. They boy’s pain was unbearable, rain poured down upon the old man, so far away. The trees whispered his sad tale to his ears.
ж
The lids of Silvio’s eyes shot open, the vibrant glow of his jade eyes succumbed once again to the opaqueness of before. His bones shook with the pain felt by Mother Earth. Overcome with terrible grief and sadness, Silvio’s heart ached. How could these monsters of the dark claim to be the righteous, yet only bring suffering?
He moved swiftly in spite of his twisted figure, his calloused feet taking him back to the ancient fig tree. Through the lush vegetation of the valley, Silvio, without a sound, slipped down a trail. The trail was hidden to intruders of the natural world, those who saw not the splendor of life, but merely land to conquer.
He emerged upon a path of scattered terracotta bricks. The debris led up to a towering wall overtaken by crawling white blossoms. Whispering, he spoke in a strange tongue understood only by the vines, which parted at his authority. A carved timber door was revealed where the vines previously hung. Silvio groped around his aged neck for a simple braided cord of hemp. From the necklace hung a rustic key, which he pushed into the gapping mouth of a lion. Upon opening the solid door, he passed hurriedly through it, allowing it to seal itself.
A light of glorious radiance illuminated the stone patio upon which Silvio had emerged upon. Great almond trees thrust from the cracks in the broken stones covering the earth, providing delicate lavender buds. Vines of the sweet smelling white blossoms crawled up the inner walls and jasmine grew along the patio. The three quaint mud-brick structures sat roughly around the patio providing a haven to those who dwelled within. In the center of the structures sat a pond stocked with coy and creamy petals of lotuses.
A young woman was seated in the shadows, on the cool stones of the patio. She played lovingly with what appeared to be a lynx cub. The girl’s lush black hair hung in loose curls down her back. Her body was slender and agile, her skin the coloring of bronze. Silvio crossed the patio, under the shade of the almond trees, swiftly over to the young woman.
“Renata, my darling!” spoke Silvio hurriedly. “Where is Leonor?”
“Papa! What is troubling you?” reverently inquired the girl.
Silvio was not truly her father, but he was granted the title out of respect and admiration. As a young girl, abandoned by her parents, Renata was rescued from the dangers of the forest by this endearing, elderly man. Strangely he reminded her so much of the old timber found around them.
“She is with the spirits, Papa.”
“Thank you my dear,” bowed Silvio’s twisted figure.
Before he turned to leave, he cupped Renata’s ageless face in his hands, his lifeless sight gazing into her smoldering amber eyes.
ж
“I know,” put the aged woman simply.
Silvio approached Leonor from the glaring light of the patio. “Why do I even try to be helpful around here!” replied Silvio with exasperation, throwing up his hands.
“Do not be too hard on yourself,” soothed Leonor. “It is just that I know you so well.”
Slowly and with care, Silvio seated himself at the table at which Leonor sat. His body felt the forces of something from the beyond in their presence.
“But, you cannot see the beyond unless the spirit itself is present?” Silvio asked quizzically.
Leonor laughed, “True, but you are here; hence, I read what you saw.”
“Who is this boy?”
“One, who until now, was just a boy. The spirits of revelation, tell me he has a greater purpose,” mused Leonor, tying up her gray-streaked hair. Her eyes shone crystal blue as they rested on the man she loved. She took Silvio’s thin hand into her leathery palm.
“I think,” Leonor paused. “That he is one of us.”
Pondering, Silvio thought aloud, “Could it be—”
“We must stop them, save him.”
ж
Silvio gathered the energy of the earth, as Leonor instructed Renata on their preparations. He spoke again in a tongue only understood by Mother Earth. The wind carried his message to the forest, in the hopes to forestall those they sought.
Nimbly Silvio made his way to where Leonor and Renata were packing small satchels with food and other necessities. Renata bent down towards the lynx, which had perched on a raised stone. He disappeared into the thickets of the flora at her command, racing to stalk their adversaries.
Renata remained on all fours only to transform into a fallow deer. Striding over to where Renata once stood, Leonor placed the satchels over the deer’s back. Then the small woman mounted the doe. They set off leaving Silvio to stand alone on the patio.
Leonor turned back to watch Silvio disperse into the colors of the wind. She felt his presence on her neck and smiled.
Together they traveled the valleys of Andalusia, on a journey to save a boy whose fate was in their palms.
ж
With no other option, Anastas shuffled his feet to keep up with the steed he was bound to. His mind flashed to the moments before he was taken away from his burning home. He recalled the screams of his parents as they disappeared into the scorching flames.
An intense, brilliant light blinded him, but did not appear to affect the soldiers of the new faith. Anastas’s parents stepped before him from the light. They spoke words of strength and faith to him. Aloud he cried to the heavens as the glow dimmed and his parents left him for what he thought would be forever.
Then upon the path they traveled, a blinding light came forth. Again, Anastas noted that the guards had no reaction to it. A spirit emerged from the radiance, her long golden hair and garb blew in the wind.
“Who are you?” questioned the boy, lowering his eyes out of fear and reverence.
The beautiful woman responded, “Fear not child, I am the spirit of eternal life. I have come to let it be known that those who come in search of you are friends. You shall be liberated soon.”
ж
Renata slowed as they neared a caravan trail that cut through the low-growing ferns of the ancient woodland. Once Leonor had dismounted and had removed the satchels, Renata resumed her former posture and beauty.
The trees rustled in a gust of wind. An elderly figure stepped from the swirling colors of the wind.
They positioned their ambush.
ж
The boy hung his head as he continued forward. He was confused about the last image he had seen. Could he really be seeing spirits of the deceased?
Anastas had little time to ponder these questions. His captors halted in their path. A small hut sat beside the caravan trail upon which they traveled. Smoke curled from the small clay chimney. A tambourine jingled within.
The guards cautiously approached.
“Who are you, those of the woods?” inquired the taller of the two guards.
The man, whom the question was for, was elderly, withered in form. He sat on a makeshift bench, or more that of a cut log. He coughed and replied, “We are humble peoples who wish only to entertain those who seek fortune.”
“Gypsies,” spat the second guard.
Silvio raised his brow, “Ahh—do not be alarmed. Let us offer wine in good faith?”
The guards exchanged quick glances and agreed, for they had a long journey ahead of them. The contemplation of placing these heathens in bondage also crossed each of their minds, separately, as a furtive excuse.
Smoke blurred their vision as they entered the narrow room of the hut. A lone, circular table sat in the center of the room, a shimmering orb upon it.
Silk sheaths hung from the ceiling and were draped across the ground. No light filtered in from the outside world, for an alluring young woman had barred it shut. Renata danced about them with a tone of lust, playing the tambourine.
Both guards were enchanted and each desired her, but neither would admit their weakness. The young boy tethered to them, hung his fair-haired head.
Silvio rolled two logs over towards the orb. Leonor stepped forward from the shadows taking her seat. The two guards sat opposite from her. Renata brought three cups of deep burgundy wine. Her olive colored arm slid passed the chest of the first guard, placing the cup down, low in front of him. She felt his breath heavy on her neck.
All at once a light exploded from the orb. Leonor motioned around the brilliant orb and spoke in a tongue foreign to the guards, yet the boy understood.
Anastas shuffled his feet and took a step in the direction of the table, his chains slacked. He felt warmth behind him and turned abruptly about to face the elderly man, who reminded him so much of the ancient trees of the woods.
Silvio placed his index finger in front of his mouth, Anastas understood. Dancing around the first guard, Renata slid her smooth hand down his back. At that moment, fire glowed from the orb as Leonor chanted to it.
Cold iron touched the outstretched palm of Silvio, as Renata placed a large key into his hand. She then resumed dancing about the room, playing her tambourine, enchanting the guards.
Wind swept through the room, encircling the table. The two guards and Leonor were trapped in a whirlwind of spirits.
“I see that the two of you have dark pasts,” mused Leonor, her old hands grasping one of each of theirs.
“She is a witch!” cried the taller guard, attempting to pull back his hand, but Leonor’s grip was too strong.
Leonor spat back, “You claim the lives of the innocent!”
“Only heathens, those who deny the true faith,” spluttered the shorter guard with conviction.
Meanwhile, Silvio and Renata unbound Anastas from his chains. They slipped, without sound, out the only door.
Renata called from the silent and darkening woodland, her cub. The little lynx bounded through the ferns and pounced into Renata arms. They situated the boy upon the lynx, once it had settled down.
“Do not be afraid,” soothed Renata, caressing the small boy’s head.
At her touch, Anastas felt immediate comfort. He gazed wondrously at her beautiful figure transfigure into a fallow deer.
A door slammed and they all turned to see Leonor running, clutching her glowing orb.
“They finally sipped the wine,” Leonor breathlessly announced.
Silvio sighed, “About time, they were stubborn, just like the god they serve.”
Leonor fixed the satchels to the deer and then mounted it. Silvio stayed behind, gathering his breath. He exhaled. The wind rushed towards the hut, leaving nothing standing, but the sleeping bodies of the two guards.
Silvio’s spirit rushed onward in the dying daylight of the heavens. They began their long journey homebound.
ж
Sitting in the shade of the lush plants surrounding the patio, Leonor and Silvio sat, watching Renata and Anastas. The lynx sat nearby, gazing at Silvio, licking his lips.
“I know Renata says he is harmless, but sometimes I am not so sure,” laughed Silvio nervously, referring to the lynx who flashed a look of innocence at his comment.
ж
“I miss them—my parents.”
Renata’s luscious charcoal curls gleamed in the light. “I know, I felt the same way,” she consoled.
“I see them sometimes, but I have no control over it,” Anastas hung his golden head; his small curls also shared the appearance of deep sadness.
“Anastas—I found my happiness in the animals, you will find yours.”
“I only see spirits in the light, but I have no control.”
“I cannot teach you to use your gift, for only through self reflection and personal belief you will discover your possibility.”
“But how?” replied Anastas, gloomily.
Renata stood, looking down on a boy reminded her of herself, “Look into yourself and find your inner light.”
Anastas sat for hours on the patio, gazing at the valley below, the blue sky, and the rising sun.
‘I believe in the spirits I see.
I believe in life beyond this world.
I believe in the light.’
…said the boy to himself and aloud to the world.
A flame appeared on the distant horizon. Light poured down upon the boy. His parents stepped forth. “Anastas” they whispered, smiling at the sight of their son who they had been painfully parted from.
ж
The guards awoke, each seeing in a haze. After a few moments they realized the boy was missing. Their horses were also gone.
Robbers must have stolen their horses and possibly enslaved the boy. They each, separately, thought of the dream they had awoken from, but were too afraid to mention it out loud. They walked away, through the awakening woods, secretly questioning their faith, for they had seen, the truly
Magnificent.
