Aurelia and Romando
Thus, the young lovers were finally united. They wed on a glorious autumn day beneath the boughs of The Great Banyan Tree, where the villagers and Gypsies alike gathered to celebrate the joyous event. They each sipped from the flask of Aurelia’s tears, which she had preserved throughout her journey, to seal their commitment of love.
Aurelia and Romando lived the rest of their lives in the village. Before long, the couple had twins of their own — a girl and a boy. Aurelia opened a small bakery-café in the cobblery. Maudline brought Miloska to visit the café daily, and Romando continued to carve the finest mandolins in the land. Every year, they and the villagers of Candleborough welcomed the return of the Gypsies and celebrated the union of their peoples.
Larissa sighed and turned to look at her grandfather.
“And so ends our tale, along with this final song. Hum along with me, Larissa; ’tis a simple melody.”
Sun-Snow
Lustrous crystals, ice-white flakes,
Drift upon our spangled lakes,
Blanketing the frozen land,
Melting on your gentle hand.
When the sun breaks through the clouds,
Villagers will sing out loud:
“’Tis Aurelia! See her smile.
Join our tribute for a while.
“Glistening tears of pain and joy
Melt the hearts of girl and boy.
As the feathery snowflakes fall,
She is singing to us all.
“When the sun meets churning snow,
Think of her where e’er you go.
She’ll dance for every chosen one
With prisms sparkling in the sun.”
Though I must leave you to the night,
With no more rhymes, I hug you tight.
Beneath your pillow you will find
A token she has left behind.
When you wake I shall be gone,
But never will you lose my song.
Dream on, Larissa, as you sleep,
For dreams are always yours to keep.
The old man closed his eyes and smiled. Snuggled next to him, fast asleep, Larissa purred like a kitten.
She awakened at dawn as a bright light from the window caught her eye. Snow was swirling outside, but the sun broke through the clouds. She turned to her Gran’Papa, shouting, “Sun-snow! Look! Just like in the story and the song!”
To her dismay, the bed was empty. Only a note lay on the pillow. She read it aloud:
Dearest Larissa,
Remember the words I sang with you last night. And remember Aurelia’s tale. Check beneath my pillow. I must reveal to you who we are. You and I are of one spirit. Aurelia lived long ago, and you are descended from her and Romando. Like all mortals, Aurelia and Romando eventually passed through this world. But unlike those who do not truly see, they lived each day fully and deeply.
Only now that I am gone may I share this magical secret with you, or the spell would have broken. To pass on my powers, I had to tell you Aurelia and Romando’s entire tale and enter my everlasting domain. Such is the destiny of personal spirits.
The three marbles are yours, for you have replaced me in our spirit-world. Find those who are needy and share your powers carefully. Yours, too, will be a rich, long, and meaningful journey.
Know deep in your heart I am not gone, sweet Larissa. I am within you, always, as are Aurelia and Romando, the villagers, and the good people of Candleborough.
With my deepest love,
Your Gran’Papa Vollov.
“Gran’Papa Vollov? I had no idea!”
Larissa lifted the pillow. Lying in a nest of black velvet were three tiger’s-eye marbles. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Gran’Papa! Where have you gone?”
Stunned by her loss and all she had learned, Larissa sat upright on the bed for quite some time. Finally, she slid her feet into her slippers and shuffled over to the window, where she gazed out at the whirling snowflakes against the blue sky. She opened the window and placed one hand outside to catch the flakes. As tears rained down her cheeks, and snowflakes melted on her warm hand, she sang softly:
Lustrous crystals, ice-white flakes
Drift upon our spangled lakes,
Blanketing the frozen land,
Melting on my gentle hand.
Glistening tears of pain and joy
Melt the hearts of girl and boy;
As the feathery snowflakes fall,
She is singing to us all.
Afterword
To this day, the villagers of Candleborough sing of Aurelia.
Every year, when the Gypsies return to the valley from their distant shores, they bring with them their music and dances and tales of pastel skies in which the golden ball melts into the sea. From time to time, the Gypsies say, they have witnessed silhouettes dancing in front of the sinking sun and have heard the songs of invisible voices. Perhaps the figures are boats sailing by. Perhaps they are birds, fluttering in applause. Or perhaps they are Aurelia and Romando. When at last the sun has set, they all agree, there is nothing on the horizon but the glow of day’s end.
As to Larissa, when Gran’Papa Vollov drifted to his final sleep, his spirit rose and entered hers. She has fulfilled her own legacy and visits those in need to help them realize their dreams.
Gelia Dolcimascolo
Author
Gelia Dolcimascolo is a graduate of New York’s famed High School of Performing Arts. A former professional dancer and instructor, she received a Bachelor of Arts from the University of California, Irvine. She works for Georgia State University Perimeter College–Dunwoody as a writing tutor and facilitator for The Writers’ Circle critique group. Her writing has been published internationally in magazines, journals, anthologies, and books, including Heart By Heart: Mothers and Daughters Listening to Each Other; Through a Distant Lens; Dancing without Walls, and Haiku Pix Review. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia.
Website: geliawrites.com
Rob Rice
Illustrator
Rob Rice studied fine art at Drury University in Springfield, Missouri, and 3-D art and animation at the Illinois Institute of Art-Chicago. Formerly a 3D animator for the advertising industry in Chicago, he also designed logos and artwork for numerous companies and painted concept characters and environments for video games. He lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
Website: robriceillustrations.com
Aurelia and the Library of the Soul Page 7