trickster

"Chance and chance alone has a message for us. Everything that occurs out of necessity, everything expected, repeated day in and day out, is mute. Only chance can speak to us. We read its messages much as gypsies read the images made by coffee grounds at the bottom of a cup."

- Milan Kundera

message

Dreams take her deep into the sea.

Hava swims, the water sliding like a lover's hand over her skin and she breathes it in painlessly as air. There's no light except for one bright shape above her and she pushes toward it with a flicker of thought to her legs that are no longer just legs.

She breaks the surface of the ocean to stand naked on the moon's reflection, a silver trail over a rippling field. She follows the lunar path to shore, and lies down to rest.

Sand against her cheek and a bright yellow haze of daylight tells her its time to move. Standing now, the wind forms little whirls of gold that become dancing figures around her feet, calling her name, urging her forward. There is no other sound.

As she walks strangers approach and cover her nakedness; first with cloth, then with metal and gems. Hava doesn't know what these things are called but feels their weight on her body, her wrists, ankles and brow and accepts them as gifts.

She arrives at a gathering of men in the shade of a temple and knows she is not in her own time. They speak a language Hava can almost remember but for now understanding eludes her. One of the men hisses something at her so that Hava recoils as she passes him and comes to stand before the King.

The man who is King turns to Hava radiating with so much love Hava is overcome with emotion and falls to her knees. She finds herself weeping and kissing his feet, wiping her tears away with her hair. There's an aching familiarity about this scene, these men, this sandy place, this King, these feet, her kisses, her tears.

The King places his hand on Hava's head and tells her, without words, to stand. His face glows and he smiles at her, pressing a hand against her heart. It contains a great Mystery, he tells Hava. It is entrusted to her alone. She must take it back with her and guard it well.

He leans in to her and kisses her mouth gently, then looks into her eyes. In their reflection he sees the depths of the cosmos, an endless darkness punched through with stars. Hava finds herself floating, swimming in those depths, stars passing her faster and faster until she is blanketed in white....

no sentimental ending

...she blinks, shakes her head to clear her vision. If this is heaven then why is everything so dark? Maybe this is the other option, which means that this guy is...

"Hava, no. You're very much alive, and we -" the godlike man with the bell-like voice gestures towards other, equally beautiful beings - "are your friends and family.
"I'm your brother, Gabe. I'll let the others introduce themselves in their own time. Don't try to speak, I can explain everything. But first I must tell you a story."

Hava is slightly hypnotised by his voice - and stunned by his words. She couldn't have uttered a word if she wanted to. A brother?

Gabe moves to sit by Hava, taking her hand.

"I'm not one for sentimental endings. Not this time. Sentiment is a luxury we cannot afford while the future of the realm and our way of life is at stake. Listen carefully Hava, this is about you too.

"First, you will have heard of the myths of earth which involve marriages between humans and divine creatures. Many of them told of ruling families falling in love with water spirits - mermaids, if you like.

"A modern version retells the Christ-Magdelene story, with the 'water' changed into blood. It involves a royal line nonethess and names the Merovingian family as descendants of this union.

"In truth the Merovingian legend involves a Mer-maid - yes I can see that you make the connection between the word 'mermaid' and the name 'Mary'. You're right, they mean the same thing, more or less - 'of the sea' - and the two stories are related, although not as you might think.

"The history of the Merovingian line is a case in point though - their power came from their divine roots, but they died out when they forgot what was owed in return. In a bizarre irony it was the Christian influence which turned those kings away from soul.

"I say 'soul' because that is precisely what earthly magic is - the soul of the world. Each divine creature embodies part of the world soul, and in humans its the female who is guardian of Her.

"We don't have time to go into gender politics right now, but suffice to say that Earth has been in trouble for some time due to the imbalance - and so has our realm - Eloah - which exists in parallel.

"But before all this trouble started there were other troubles - some of these are written in the old texts of earth, the sacred texts that hardly anyone can understand anymore. There is a common thread through all of these, however much they are misinterpreted and distorted.

"All the stories involve an exceptional female who is paired with a ruler of some sort and gives birth 'without stain' to a royal or divine heir. Or two. All the way back to the first woman.

"The first woman, Hava."

Gabe pauses, sighs, and carefully places Hava's hand to rest on her other one. She's drifting off to sleep, the journey taking its toll. The story will have to wait a little longer.

What is one more day after a thousand years?

irresistable

adopt your own virtual pet!

renewal

She wakes.

Hava can hear voices but can't figure out what they're saying. A dull ache at the base of her skull tells her that something's up, but memory eludes her. In fact, Hava can't remember anything except her name, which she now recognises as the voices become clearer and louder.

"Hava? Can you hear me?" A bell-like voice asks.
"Hava? Can you hear me?" an echo returns.

Hava tries to open her eyes. A strangled groan comes from two different directions at once and Hava is shocked to realise that the noise is coming from deep in her own throat. She tastes something strange and salty, like week old sushi, and breathes deeply as nausea rises in response.

"help me with her!" The bell whispers.

Hava heaves and rolls sideways as gentle hands steady her, holding her across her upper body as she retches and relieves her stomach of its contents. More hands apply a warm wet cloth to her face, wiping away traces of brackish odour.

The world comes into focus.

She sees that she's inside a vast hall or pavillion - every surface of glassy black stone, and that its night.

Taking an inventory of herself, feeling for injury, Hava moves to dislodge the heaviness from her arms and legs. Smooth fabric against her skin tells her she isn't wearing much clothing, but that she's covered in a way that preserves her dignity.

"Where am I?" The words burn a trail from her belly to her lips. Hava gasps at the pain, sending another rip through her body.

"Calm. Heal." another voice washes over Hava, sending a wave of warmth through her. The burning fades.

Breathing carefully through her nose now, she turns her head in the direction of movement and sound. The room tilts slightly and rights itself as Hava battles her disorientation and wins.

"Hava, you're home again" comes from the bell voice, drawing Hava's attention to rest on a face so perfect she wonders for a moment if she has died and is now in the presence of god.

lavender blue

..lavender's blue, dilly dilly..." She puts down her pen and looks up out of the window. How does it go again? "Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, rosemary's green...mm" Hava hums the tune a bit and lowers her head to continue her work.


"When you are king, dilly dilly..." Lucy sings over the top of her drawing table and pops her head up to grin at Hava. "I love that old nursery rhyme!"

"Yes, but I think its really a folk song" Hava says, flashing back a grin of her own. Her slavic accent slightly trips over the word 'folk' - an in-joke in the small design company they own and run.

"Ha! Well Hava darling you are the fokk expert" Lucy replies, ducking as a ball of paper whizzes by her head.


They can laugh because everyone knows it isn't true. Hava couldn't be more conservative or shy when it comes to relationships - and no one has ever been able to engage her in a real discussion about her life outside the studio.

Though maddeningly closed on the subject most young women love best, on design she prattles for hours, expounding the virtues of new techniques or a cutting edge movement or the works of well known artists and architects.

As expected, Hava blushes bright scarlet and hunches down over her work, hiding her smile. One of these days she'll have something to tell them.

That tune, though, continues in a loop, nagging her and pulling her attention towards something she can't quite remember. A dream? A memory? It's giving her a headache.


In the bathroom Hava splashes her face with cold water, grimacing at the shock of it and her reflection - pale and pasty, with uncharacteristic dark circles under eyes. It's been a while since she felt refreshed in the mornings. It's as though she's been living a whole other life in her dreams, waking exhausted and feeling as if she's gone horseriding all night.

"ridiculous" she mutteres to herself, "maybe I need to see a doctor?"

"a shrink might help! talking to yourself isn't a good sign.." came from a stall behind Hava, startling her out of her reverie.


"who's there?" Hava asks, surprised, just as the flushing lavatory drowns her words. The cubicle door swings open and a young man steps forward toward her. No. Not a young man, an angel, a demi god. This is the single most beautiful creature Hava has ever seen. She blinks twice, not believing her eyes.

"Would you believe I'm a genie from a bottle?" he asks with one perfect eyebrow raised. "No? You're right, there's no such thing."

He passes her on his way to the sink, trailing a scent she can't identify but which leaves her almost breathless with longing....Hava suddenly feels dizzy.

"I've come to talk to you about the king, Your majesty" The angel-man turns toward Hava just in time to catch her as she starts to fall.

And the world goes black.

lachesis

I saw your name
just your name
and felt a bloom
of heat
right here
so I know
what my mind
has put aside
my body
remembers
and all week
while waiting
i've woven
loose threads
into a web
in which i
lie pretending
to be horrified
but secretly
in thrall
to the sting
and wonder
of who you are now
and an instinct
to unravel
our lives
and spin us
and time
into one
strand
then i hear
your voice
at last
telling me how
you died and
were retrieved
three times
how your
brokeness
changed you
and god
i can't
bear this
but I watch
our souls
stretch
behind us
to that place
we just know
our destinies
won't fit
until we do
so with fate
urging you
to admit
i was
a mystery
so strange
you couldn't
lean my way
except for
that one
time when
innocence
was lost
to us
i want to
climb into
that small space
you made for me
sit watching
your mouth
and weave
new memories
holding them
to me like
a child
we never had
safe
enough
to take
into my heart