I do a great deal of my spiritual work in the Dreamtime and I know the
difference between dreams and the Dreamtime. Therefore, it was not a huge
surprise for me to have a stranger wander into my place in the Dreamtime and
ask permission to share my fire.
“Be welcome at my fire, Grandfather,” I said politely, as I assessed him. He
was tree-tall and quite square. He moved awkwardly, as if he were hurt or not
quite comfortable in his own skin. His head was covered by his hooded cloak.
His voice was very deep and somewhat raspy. I imagined his singing voice, if he
sang, would be basso profundo.
He bowed and moved to a stump on the other side of my fire, which flared up as
he sat down. In the Dreamtime, everything is a sign and/or a message. Sometimes
you understand the meaning at once, other times you just store it for later
review.
“I have cold water and hot tea, Grandfather. May I offer you some?”
“Thank you, Child, I would like some water. Tea is what prey drinks.”
I smiled as I poured him a mug of water I had drawn from the stream which
started in the cave behind me and ran to the right through the clearing. I
handed him the clay mug with a bow and said, “May you never thirst.” Ceremony
is important in the Dreamtime.
He took the mug. “Thank you, Child.”
I sat down and put the pad and pens I had been using into the bag at my feet. I
then gave my Guest my full attention. Though I wanted very much to ask a
possibly impertinent question, I have learned to hold my tongue when an Elder
power comes to call.
“You Witnessed at StarCrafter's ascension.”
“Yes, I had that honour.”
“Quite unusual for a human, is it not?”
“Indeed.”
He drained the mug and set it down on the flat rock nearby. “I have been told
you are not merely human.”
“As have I, Grandfather.”
He chuckled and I felt as if I had won the first round in a contest I did not
remember entering.
“A woman of few words, I see.”
Oh, shit! Can't lie in the Dreamtime. Can't tell him I usually make more
noise than the rustling leaves and the running stream put together, and then
some, oh shit! What to say, what to say...
“When circumstances require.” Thank you, whoever sent those words!
He laughed out loud. “Taliesin has taught you well, child.”
“As Himself is as famous for his teaching as for his Bardcraft, I am honoured
that you believe I have learned some of what he has laboured to teach.”
He laughed again and I noticed that the fire, which appeared far larger now
than when I started it before the stranger arrived, leapt up at the sound.
Clearly, this Elder was powerful, and I had best keep him amused.
“Be
calm, child. You are not prey.”
Oh, good, now I don't have to ask the impertinent question.
“I am grateful that I am not prey.” I felt the time had come to ask a question.
“Grandfather, did you simply happen upon me in your travels, or did you set out
to find me?”
“Healer Tallishandra and Johnathan of the Library suggested I might find you
interesting.”
Oh, great. Knowing Tallishandra and Johnathan, this was some kind of test.
Gotta love your friends, even when they set you up.
“Ah. Possibly the reason I am not prey?”
He laughed so hard that his hood fell back. I gasped. Oh, shit, this is
different! His head was large and somewhat oddly shaped, and his eyes were
younger cousins to my fire. He realized he had blown his cover. “Child, no
matter what you see, remember you are not prey.” With that, he began to change
and I understood why he had seemed awkward in his skin. It was not his best
seeming.
I am not prey, I am not prey, oh, dear, Lady Mother Goddess, he's huge, I am
not prey!
A moment later, I was looking up at an immense reddish purple Dragon who
carried the markings and wore the breastplate of the Royal House. (Thank you,
Johnathan, for that course on the Heraldry of the Allied Kindreds.) I bowed and
said, “You have me at a disadvantage, Dragon Lord. Might I know who it is with
whom I have had the honour to share fire?”
Oh, dear Lady, he's HUGE, I am not prey, he said I am not prey.
“I am Rollani, King of Fire and Air, second only to the Mother of All Dragons
in rank.”
I bowed lower. I am not one for curtsies, and they most certainly do not work
when you are wearing trews. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. How may I
serve you?”
“You may serve me by becoming more fully who you are, Child. You were born to
humans. You know yourself to be of the Fair Kindred and of the Star Kindred. I
now claim you as a Child of Fire and Air.” Then he let loose with a cry that
reminded me of a brass choir with a majority of tubas, trombones, and
baritones, with only a sprinkling of French horns and trumpets.
My heart leapt in response, as my fire had done earlier. Suddenly, I felt such
a searing pain that I thought I might die and I was sure it would be an
improvement. My skin and bones, organs and tissues seemed to morph from solid
to viscous. There was even more pain as they began to change, and grow and
shift. Then I found myself a mere head shorter than His Grace, wearing the form
of a Dragon.
“Someone might have warned me, Your Grace.”
“Why? So you could run away?”
“Maybe.”
He laughed again. “Now, come fly with me, Child of Fire and Air!”
In joy, I flapped my wings and rose to the sky, hoping it would be a long
night.
©Michelle R. Owings-Christian, January 23, 2009
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