by Iva Kenaz
Trust your soul, keep your head up high.
Worship your inner will to fight.”
Chapter 5 – Cave
I have been walking for a long time now. I passed a few more marshes and a small pond, where I could finally take a short cooling swim and rinse off all the dirt that has been building up, both on my body and soul. My mood has been changing these days. Sometimes I feel incredibly happy to be finally free and most of all alive, but then again sometimes I miss Nathaniel. The smarter part of me insists that I’m a fool for missing him, yet my heart skips a beat each time I think of him. He has possessed it, no matter how much I have tried to take it back. Another thing has been worrying me. I keep getting a hunch that something or someone is after me. Sometimes it’s just the minuscule sensation of tickling on my shoulders, sometimes a feeling that my mind is occupied by someone else’s. I fear that he follows me on each step, although he seemingly left. He is like a spider slowly wrapping its victim into a web. Daniel. He comes and goes, but never really leaves.
Strange how my captors stick with me, haunting me; although both in different ways. The two strange brothers that united on a journey to capture me. Take me home.
My deer is with me all the time and although he keeps his distance, I can tell, whenever I allow myself to dissolve in his deep knowing eyes that he cares about me. I wish I could finally find the cave and hopefully my grandmother, if she is still alive. I have sensed her presence so strongly since I entered these lands that it worries me, makes me think she must be dead. Yet I keep my hopes up. If she was still alive, everything would be so much easier. I could tell her how sorry I have been feeling for ever doubting her, I could learn from her and most importantly, it would assure me that it's possible to survive here on my own. Sometimes, mainly when I forget about Daniel, I feel that I’m opening up to the sounds of the forest again. It's truly amazing how nature is, how it gives birth to so many various forms of life and spirits that possess those forms. Whenever I feel weak, I cling to one of the ancient trees for support. Sometimes I even feel that the tree actually protects me from Daniel’s sly intrusions. I have become aware that the trees are actually the secret guardians of the forest. After all, most of the other living beings come and go, but the trees remain in the same spots for hundreds of years. And while the roots intertwine in a game of splendid webs, moving deeper and deeper underground, the branches keep climbing up, up into the heavens. How amazing trees are! Such graceful beings. Oftentimes I tend to imagine faces in their bark and I even catch myself speaking to them in my mind. The replies come in the form of thoughts, but God only knows whether the thoughts are mine or theirs. These days I can’t tell if my mind is just my own or if other beings may perhaps use me as a bearer of their ideas and wishes.
The other day I asked one of the oaks how come its leaves have such healing power and then a thought entered my mind:
“We oaks are very strong and you may share our great gift,
but remember, the kinder the will, the stronger you may take root within.”
How grateful I am for these autumn days and the full harvest. I have been given various gifts in this Cursed, or more appropriately, Sacred Land, particularly fruits, but also leaves, dandelions, nuts, acorns and mushrooms. And each time I receive a part of them, I have an even stronger feeling that there is some magical exchange of information happening between us. I’ve been sensing that everything around me is much wiser than I could ever be. I have begun to learn from every leaf, every plant and every stone; basically every living being that I stumble upon.
This morning I observed ants and their movement, or rather, their own little world. I wonder how they experience life and if it is easier or perhaps more complex than mine. I suppose I shall never feel alone here, if so many beings share these nooks with me. And although I’m still a stranger in the labyrinth of these amazing miniature and huge worlds, I’m also aware that I'm in some way inseparably part of it.
The days have been sunny so far and I pray to the heavens not to start crying, for then I will be forced to remember the rainy day with Nathaniel. And I will hate myself for missing him. Again. At night I sometimes become afraid. Mainly because of the creaky sounds and the amplified wolf howls descending from the mounts. Wolves, the creatures I fear the most. The beasts that hurt my brother and caused all this misery in the first place. Fortunately, I witnessed only the injury they had done, not the actual attack, but God knows that I'm aware of how cruel they are to their prey. I sincerely hope that they come only once frost and snow has covered these lowlands. By then I may have found the cave to hide in, or will have frozen to death. The darkness of the night also triggers my inner sight and I tend to draw fearful phantoms onto it. Daniel, my father, our local judge and bishop... all the faces I dread to ever meet again.
When I first entered these woods, I had no fear. I felt only a huge relief. I thought to myself that even being attacked by wolves would be better than to undergo the horrid torture methods that our cruel bishop schemes. Although dark forests tend to be the best hideouts for ousted individuals and ill minds, this one, contrary to its scary myth, may in fact be safe.
I used to think that people are to be feared far more than any spirit, but since Daniel’s presence sneaked back into my life, I have come to an understanding that it's far more chilling to be followed by a disembodied creature, because no one can protect me from it, no one but myself.
*
I'm woken by sun rays. They dance across my face and suddenly I experience an inexplicable joy. It's as though I’m looking forward to something, although rationally there is nothing much to look forward to. Then I spot my deer lying next to me, watching me recovering. He is closer than ever and with the sun casting an aura around his beautifully shaped horns, he resembles an expression from a holy painting. I can’t help but smile and marvel over the unearthly beauty that he transmits at this very moment. I extend my hand to touch him, but he rises before I can get close enough and moves a few steps away, waiting for me to join him. He remains untameable, untouchable, as usual.
I let the sun rays dance over me for a bit longer, for it feels so soothing on my cold skin. The nights are colder these days. That is perhaps why the deer lays so close to me tonight, we have been keeping each other warm. As I blindly stare at the sun, I can see it shining through my closed eyelids, expanding and withdrawing again and again. There is something sacred about the sun, I feel, yet I can’t tell what it is. Then the five, six and eight pointed stars pop up like thunderbolts in my inner vision. They appear and disappear over and over. I have the feeling that there is something sacred about those shapes, and then it feels as if my grandmother is speaking to me, I can recognise her voice in my inner hearing:
“The stars, the keys to healing, keys to inner knowing, they have the power to lock and unlock the heavens. Surround yourself with it, for your soul needs healing, before the lady in the dark cape intrudes your haven. But be aware that even she and her guide have a purpose in this task, just remember to unlock the heavens when we align in the stars.”
The sudden restlessness of my deer disturbs the silent conversation between my grandmother, me, the sun and something in between. He walks around me in circles and summons me to the new journey. Is it because we are near the cave? An elevating notion runs through my mind and grows into a pure childlike excitement. Then fear strikes me, unmerciful as usual, and pulls me back to the ground. I turn around, aghast. Or could it be that there is someone near? Some latent peril nearby? The overwhelming anxiety forces me to rise.
As soon as I recover, I set off to follow the deer to thick walls of bushes, mainly blackberries. I'm about to go back, but he is already struggling through the branches and thorns, walking carefully yet persistently. I have no choice but to follow him and so I wrap myself in my cape and go. After a while, struggling, I see that a rock lies ahead of us. My heart skips a beat for a moment. The cave!
I hurry to free myself from the t
horny bushes and finally step out into a small clearing. The sun shines over the grey granite stones and my eyes eagerly search for a door. I notice a small crack on the right side of the rock wall, but it looks more like a fox hole. I hurry to explore it and notice that it is in fact bigger than it had seemed from afar! It’s half my size. Could this really be my grandmother’s cave? I detect that the hole probably used to be larger, for the stones around it are visibly not part of the rock—they were obviously piled up around the entrance for protection.
My heart starts beating faster as my eyes focus on the simple door-like shape lying close by. It is indeed an old door made of wooden sticks and hay, but it’s rotten, in a state of decay. If my grandmother was here, would she use such an old door? Cautious about who I might find in there, I peek inside. My eyes are getting used to the darkness and finally I see. I see a stone-like table with various sized furs on top of it, woollen sacks and a big locked wooden box underneath it. There are half-burned candles in the various-sized recesses in the walls, also a large stone that probably functioned as a chair with an animal skin on top. I marvel over the big sacks filled with a variety of dried food, the piles of wood and the stone bed with even more leather pieces, capes, furs and woollen blankets. I freeze when I behold that someone is lying there, covered in one of the capes. I'm short of breath as I whisper:
“Grandmother?”
I have a terrifying suspicion as I enter the cave. Carefully, I touch the overcoat that covers the silhouette and feel something hard beneath it. I jump away in a fright and cause the body to move, followed by a rustling sound. A skeleton. I utter an uncontrollable shriek. I start shaking as I notice the familiar dress, apron and a golden pendant on the skeleton’s chest – it reads the same symbol as the one that my grandmother left behind incised on the white quartz stone:
The six-pointed star.
Grief takes hold of my heart as I stare into the empty, dark holes that used to be her eyes. After a moment of gazing into the two voids, I finally calm down. I'm not afraid of the skeleton anymore, the only thing I fear now is that I'm left here without her guidance. She was my only hope, my light at the end of the tunnel.
I shiver as the grave-like silence and the chill of the cave gets to me. I need to get out and inhale some fresh air otherwise I’m sure I’ll faint.
When I step back into the sunlight, I notice that there is no sight of my deer. He has left me, most probably because his task had been completed. There was no reason for him to linger I suppose. And so I'm even more alone now. Lonelier than I have ever been before. As lonely as my grandmother used to be. I look back at the cave and it’s as if I’m looking into my future. Soon it will be my body lying there, new food for wolves, vultures and insects. I suddenly dread going back to the cave and exploring it any further, although I know I will eventually have to.
I lay myself on the grass and turn away from the bright sun. Despair takes over and I can’t help crying. A river of unexplored emotions runs through me uncontrollably and I allow myself to flow with it.
*
I've been laying on the ground for a long time, watching the sky turn pinkish beige and the sun touch the peaks of the mountain range. I know that I have to pull myself together, stop grieving and simply be grateful for finding such a well-established shelter with such a good amount of stored food, goods and property that I would have never been able to find out here on my own.
Before I make this cave my home, I need to say a proper goodbye to my grandmother.
I get up woozily and enter the cave again. I walk over to my grandmother’s skeleton and draw a cross over her forehead. Then I ease next to her and allow myself to express the words I have been wishing to tell her, hoping that her spirit hears me out. I finally get to tell her how sorry I have been for ever doubting her. I know I'm aware now that she was someone special. Someone who had a big heart and a very wise soul, someone I wish to be like one day. I tell her about all the memories that I recall so vividly these days. I also let her know how much I wish to learn from her. And for a while I get the disturbing feeling that she is still alive and so I avoid a confrontation with her skeleton, so as not to be struck by the reality of time’s unmerciful passing.
I bury her under a pile of mud and leaves by the thick wall of blackberries. I place stones on top of it and also create a simple wooden cross to decorate it with. This time I make the cross double, because the plain one reminds me too much of human suffering. And thus the cross becomes a star, an eight pointed star.
I dread praying, because I still don’t understand to whom I should be praying and so I just send my love to her and hold on to a piece of bone that fell when I was moving her skeleton outside. It’s probably part of her little finger and I have decided to keep it. For some unexplainable reason I feel that it will transmit her strength to me and protect me before we reunite in heaven, or whatever realm exists there beyond our comprehension. And as I tuck the piece of bone into my cleavage, I notice for the first time a large symbol carved into the rock above the entrance. One line dividing into three, resembling a figure with arms spread upwards. Then a word enters my mind:
Algíz.
*
The cave truly is a wonderful shelter. I have found a lot of hidden supplies, particularly leftovers of seeds and nuts. Some of it has been eaten up by worms and the ones left are hard and old, so I’m guessing that grandmother passed away a few years back. I wonder why. What happened to her? She was still quite young, she must have been ill or was it her spirit that simply decided to leave? I place the decaying wooden door over the entrance to keep myself warm and protected from predators. Then I light up all the candles in the nooks so that I can properly see the other gifts that were left here for me. I find a beautiful red woollen cape and a few more skirts under the pile of skins and fur on the bed. I also find a stock of extra candles and a wonderful collection of quartz stones. There are a few old wrought iron pots by the bed as well as a pile of wooden sticks and branches. Unfortunately, the box that I have found by the stone table remains a mystery to me, because I can’t seem to find the key.
Now as I shine a light on all the dim corners, I observe the strange shapes and symbols on the ceiling. They are slightly faded, because most probably they were drawn a long time ago. Most of them are incomprehensible to me. They seem to portray some kind of alphabet, but not the sort that I have seen before. I recognise only a few of the symbols - the six and eight pointed stars, the moon and the sun, and then the same symbol that I spotted above the entrance.
It must all have some meaning, but there is nobody to ask. Also, there is a small round hole in the back of the cave. I wonder if it leads anywhere, but I suppose that even if it does, I could hardly find out. It's way too small.
As soon as I thoroughly clean up and explore every last bit of the cave, exhaustion overwhelms me. I place new blankets over the stone bed and get rid of the ones on which my grandmother passed away. I shall burn them tomorrow. Not that I find them repulsive, it’s just that I don’t want to be reminded of the moments of her death, I’d rather remember the moments when she was still alive. I feel surprisingly safe on the bed. Maybe it's because she slept here for so many years and it soaked up her presence, which cradles me to sleep now, as all my senses leave my body.
Am I dreaming? I see my grandmother in front of me. She’s smiling and her eyes sparkle.
“I have been waiting for you here, dear child. I’m so glad that you have found me at last. And now it’s time to find yourself.”
I rise from the bed, stunned by the image of her. She moves gracefully around the room and looks a bit blurry as though she is fluid, transparent, as though she is a spirit. Then she reaches up above the stone table and takes down a small key. She lifts her left eyebrow and her lips curl into a gentle smile.
Then she gets to her knees, lies down on her belly and disappears inside the small round hole in the back of the cave. I gasp for air as I…
Pro
bably wake up? I’m still not sure what has just happened. I get up and look around, confused. I notice I have left the candles burning. How silly of me! I need to start saving my supplies if I want to survive the whole winter here.
I walk over to the table and grope around the small crack in the wall. My hand finds a piece of metal. I can’t believe it. It’s really the key! Without really willing it, an excited smile pops up on my face. I hurry to open the box and the excitement fully wakes me. I find different kinds of clothes, skirts, dresses, capes and also shoes, a few wooden bowls and spoons and a wrought iron bowl with strange decor. The decor reminds me of the symbol above the cave’s entrance, but it’s depicted both facing up and down.
“Algíz.”
The word enters my mind without my consent.
Intuitively, I lean towards the dark hole in the back of the cave. I grab one of the candles and shine a light inside. It seems quite deep but I'm curious about it now as my grandmother disappeared in there during my dream. I lie on my belly, just as she did and dive into the tight hole. With some effort I finally manage to get inside. I keep pushing the candle ahead of me and crawling forward. The hole turns out to be a tunnel that meanders along the wall and appears to be endless. The fear of getting stuck in here causes me to hesitate as to whether I should return or not, but my curiosity wins in the end. However, after some time crawling, I start to doubt my mission again. What if the wall begins to crumble and I end up stuck under a pile of stones with no hope of rescue? Or what if there is a wolf or some other predator hidden deeper inside?
The air starts to feel heavy and I can’t breathe properly. Is it the anxiety choking me or is there really such bad air in here? I start to panic. It’s a long way back if I decide to return. Also, it will take much more effort than moving forward.