We built a castle in the sky ... in the swirling, freezing mists
Atop a grassy hill side ... an escarpment of solid rock to help keep the bastards out
Summoned were all the banes of protection ... the gods looked favourably upon us
And when it was done ... we built a mighty pyre and burnt all the ones who’d died
Flames licked higher towards the gods ... our captured enemies the sacrifices
Their frenzied screams of dying sickened me ... but then they sent a chilling message
Attack us at your peril ....
I was a young man then, full of hopes and dreams
The order had barely shown much interest in me then
I seldom wished to fight ... content to wander with the women folk the moors
Seeking the herbs and the roots which could heal or those which the priests used
On a sunny day ... I can remember it well ... a perfect day ... with no cloud in the sky
I sat dreamily against my favourite tree in a quiet place
I had some of the root which I’d kept for myself ... thankfully the priest ne’er noticed
Tentatively ... nervously ... I placed the bitter root in my mouth ...
Then chewed a little .... carefully at first ..... then as a warmth began in my feet ...
And lifted up my spine .... I chose more .... until I’d swallowed the entire root
A strange, dizzy feeling overtook me ... I felt tired but also alive ... alert
I felt myself sinking into the ground then lifting like a bird
Below me I could see the moors and the castle embankment below me
I soared and soared higher into the sky ... until I entered a wondrous world
A place I cannot truly describe ....
And presently I came upon strange peoples ... wearing strange colourful robes
They appeared kindly as I approached them .... they greeted me ....
They led me to a wonderful water’s edge and washed me ... then dressed me like they
I knew not where I was ....
When I awoke ... it was nightfall ... my head hurt and my stomach felt heavy
Next day I could barely lift my head ,... somehow I managed my duties
Later ... when the pain in my head eased ,... a priest called me over to him
He led me to the enclave at the far end of the citadel .... the head priest was waiting
A fearsome man with long black hair, shabby beard and robes of purest white
I was scared ... his eyes looked right through me .... he told me I had the mark
It was time I became an initiate .... he’d known I eaten the root and had lived
Somehow I’d survived the crossing over ... I could not deny ... I could only nod my head
It was many years later ... as I partook in the ceremonies to empower the circles of stone
That I learned I’d eaten too much root that first time ... truly I should have died
My gifts of foresight and healing were a proven tool by then ....
I was a master Mage by then ,... a wanderer of my own path ....
Doorways to other worlds .... I had the privilege to be involved in their construction
The geometry and shape matching exactly the ancient scriptures ...
Visitors from out of the glowing mists and thunder would come ...
and assist in the sculpting of a specific rock ... one of the desired resonance ...
My role to empower the circuit with earth and sky ...
The conduit at the centre of the hub which brought the two powers together
And my flesh ... was the transmitter ... for my form was almost all water
The dragon would then waken within me and set alight my own circuitry
Thus I was the fire ... the divine spark ...
I would then master the dimensional change ... I would walk between the worlds
And greet those who would be there on the different frequency
They could then wander through me ... I would be mediator for the tribes
My voice was the oracle in those great times ....
Architecture ... astrology .... healing ... music .... other wonders would come through me
And our knowledge grew ... but I wasn’t the lone mediator
There were many ... each unique ... each creating a different frequency ...
The stones ... I recall them all with wonder .....
Sadly our knowledge was murdered and burnt ...
We were declared evil by those who were fearful of us ....
Our castle was burnt down to the ground ....
And our history was then forgotten .... lies made which became legend
So later generation could only guess at how or why ...
Matthew James 7 April 2005