Wanderings of a Muse: An Anthology
Page 8
Snow was falling heavily around the sparkling house on the hill. Of all the houses on the North Pole this one stood out the most. Multicolored lights were reflecting off the falling snow like a rainbow of diamonds in the sun. Smoke was coming from the chimney and golden lights glowed in the windows.
In the arched doorway Mother Nature stood wrapped in a cloak of leaves. She stood there until a small figure in green opened the door and chirpily greeted, “Mother Nature! What brings you here?”
Mother Nature smiled patiently and replied, “Hello Trixie. Are Mr. and Mrs. Claus in?”
Trixie energetically nodded as she directed, “They’re in the main study. He’s going over his list.”
Mother Nature smiled at Trixie as she thanked the little elf. Trixie’s ears turned a bright red as she disappeared.
With a fond smile Mother Nature shook her head as she made her way to the most famous study in the world. After a polite knock on the stone entryway Mother Nature heard a jovial, “Enter.”
Mother Nature glided into the cozy study like a gentle spring breeze. “Hello Santa and Mrs. Claus,” she politely greeted.
“Mother Nature! What a nice surprise,” Mrs. Claus exclaimed.
“What’s wrong old friend,” Santa asked from his wingback chair.
“What makes you think something’s wrong,” Mother Nature asked.
“I smell rain in the air,” Santa wisely answered.
Mother Nature bowed her curly, vine entangled head. “Can you talk to Jack,” she pleaded softly.
“He’s still visiting Noelle than?”
“Worse. He’s getting bitter,” Mother Nature gravely informed her old friend.
“Oh no,” Mrs. Claus whispered as her chocolatey eyes began to shine.
“He could make winter bitterly cold for all of us if he doesn’t accept that people and things change,” Mother Nature quietly explained.
“I know old friend. But, what can we do,” Santa worriedly asked.
“You and Mrs. Claus are the most magical of the winter beings. Surely you can do something,” Mother Nature pleaded the crackling fire emphasized her hope.
Santa sat contemplatively, his list forgotten, as he pondered what he could do. Slowly the twinkle returned to Santa’s eyes. “Trying to talk to Jack wouldn’t do any good. However, there is something that can be done. It would take you, me, and Father Time,” Santa told Mother Nature conspiratorially.
Mother Nature cocked her head to the side as she asked, “What do you have in mind?”
“Let me have one of the elves call Father Time. It’s best if we discuss this when we are all together,” Santa gravely stated. Mother Nature looked at Santa with confusion as one of the elves called for Father Time.
Mrs. Claus walked across the study and put a hand on Santa’s right should as she leaned in and whispered softly to him. Mrs. Claus then walked out of the room with a homely smile towards Mother Nature. Mother Nature smiled graciously at her hostess and continued to stare at Santa in confusion.
The crackling flames in the fireplace roared loudly in the silence. Santa and Mother Nature stared into the flames as though they contained the answers to their problems. Slowly the fire glowed brighter as a black square with symmetrical lines formed in the center of the flames.
Slowly the square grew larger in size until it covered the flames. Once the square stabilized an elderly form stepped through the square as spryly as Santa went down a smooth chimney.
“Show off,” Mother Nature whispered with a fond smile.
The form bent form straightened as he was able and gave a warm smile to Santa before asking, “You had something that you wanted to talk about?”
“I’m hoping you could help me with something, Father Time.
“Mother Nature has told me the sad state that Jack Frost has fallen into and I think there may be a way we can help him,” Santa finished mysteriously.
“What did you have in mind,” his ancient voice cracked.
As his guests stood waiting on him, Santa smiled and replied, “We turn Jack into a child.” Santa’s smile never left his face as he gave his solution.
Mother Nature’s eyes widened as the vines in her hair went vibrant green to brittle brown. Father Time had a few white hairs turn chestnut brown. “That’s.....” Father Time muttered.
“I think I need to sit down,” Mother Nature mumbled.
Two chairs appeared out of the air for the mythical beings to sit upon as they watched Santa grin. With a jovial chuckle Santa explained, “Between the three of us we have the willpower to bind Jack’s memories and turn him into a mortal child temporarily. He needs to remember how to play. With a little luck not only will we get Jack back, but Noelle as well.”
Mother Nature stared into space for a moment before whispering, “My only question is how would he return to us?”
“Bind his memories to something precious. When he remembers what it is like to be a child and play the spell would lift automatically,” Santa firmly stated.
“Who would watch over him,” Father Time asked sagely.
Santa gave a half smile as he calmly answered, “Old friend, I was hoping you would take over the role as his grandfather.”
Father Time chuckled and smiled as he replied, “Count me in. I haven’t spent time with the mortals that decide our fate in years.”
Mother Nature smiled as bright as a summer sun to signify her agreement to Santa’s rather outlandish plan.
Isis’ Savior
1The sand finally settled and I saw the giant silhouette in front of me. Of all the statues that I have seen none bears greater resemblance to the lofty nobility of a deity. Even in these murky depths I can see her kohl lined eyes glisten with life imploring me to break the eternal curse that trapped her in this solid state. If I close my eyes I can still feel her soft hands gently weaving through my unruly hair. She is the greatest influence in my life. She is my mother.
I haven’t had the pleasure of sitting at her side since she hid in the mortal world from Mars when the Philopater fell from grace. That was almost two millennia ago. Being the child of a goddess makes me an immortal. There are more of us in the modern world than one would think. Even the ancient Gods are here. We all have tragic stories. Such is the case with my mother, the Goddess Isis. She is the mother to us all and the invading Romans sealed her great love in this underwater statue that I have searched for since time immemorial.
I’m surprised I was able to get this close to her. The immortal children of Mars have blocked the path to my mother since the day the Aeilius family betrayed her to the Romans and their unholy ways. That was when Mars found her and laid the Roman curse on her. He trapped my great mother Isis in this living statue, withholding her love from the world.
Roughly a hundred years ago a mystic roamed the dust bowl known as the Fertile Crescent and he granted me an audience. The man told me where I could find earth’s salvation.
As I stare at my mother’s beautiful face I smile slightly as I make a solemn vow – I will break this curse and bring her love back to the world. For now though, I must protect her in this form.
I will take my mother home and surround her with the flowers she so adored when she freely loved the earth. There is an obsidian throne and crown of lapis lazuli waiting for her pleasure. They were all I could save from the sacking of her temples.
My grandchildren will search the earth for the cure to this curse. I vow that my blood will find the alchemists of today. From the ranks of the alchemist my blood will cull the most talented. Whether it be male or female, Master or Kleopatra they will break this curse or we will all suffer. This much is inscribed in the stone at my mother’s feet.
Author Bio
R. Stachowiak and her husband live in sunny Florida. She looks for inspiration in the beauty of nature that surrounds her.
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