Bedtime Story: Reflections Of The Past: Earth: Chapter 7

Relax into your evening, or fall asleep, to this recording of the seventh chapter of the magical novel 'Reflections Of The Past,' by Vanda Inman.

Set in a remote valley in Cornwall, England, 'Reflections Of The Past' tells the story of four characters whose lives intertwine through many incarnations, and of their special relationship with the valley's Sacred Spring and Holy Well.

Music by Serge Quadrado
Picture by Pixabay

Transcript

Chapter 7 It was almost the time of the darkest day,

And the villagers were preparing for the ritual of the return of the sun.

Despite Crow's repeated attempts to persuade them to destroy the sacred pool,

Nothing had yet occurred,

And Rowan felt they were hanging on until the last moment,

Fearful of what might happen if they carried out Crow's instructions,

Afraid of what would happen if they did not.

But Crow was merely biding his time,

For Rowan knew he was confident his wishes would come to pass.

At one point she requested an audience with her father in an attempt to explain everything,

But he had been ill of late with a sickness which turned him to turn inwards on himself,

His body wasting and wracked with pain.

The snows came,

Turning the valley to white.

Rowan's fingers froze and icicles hung like daggers from the rocks around the sacred pool,

But still the water ran as crystal clear as always,

And was surprisingly warm to the touch when she plunged her hands into it.

Even her daily trek to and from the sacred pool became difficult,

As snow lay higher than her waist in places,

And the villagers cut past to the areas they needed to visit regularly.

In the sunlight the snow was a twinkling,

A silver blanket lying over the land,

Causing the branches of the trees to bow down,

The spikes of the gorse with its tiny golden flowers seemingly the only plant not entirely covered in white.

Rowan imagined the plants beneath,

Waiting,

Curled in the ground until it was safe to venture out.

But when the skies darkened to slate grey and the fat flakes began to swirl into the deepening gloom,

She sometimes found the snow a little frightening.

However,

Rowan found no time to take much notice,

Except to be thankful she was left well alone,

Because her thoughts had been on other matters.

When Rowan returned with her basket of herbs following her encounter with Crow,

To discover the man had disappeared,

She wondered briefly if she was going mad.

People and animals did not simply vanish into thin air,

Whisked away by the spirit,

And just as she was beginning to wonder if this had truly happened,

There was a low whistle,

And she turned to find John standing outside the enclosure,

Beckoning her to follow him.

Come quick before anyone sees,

He hissed,

This way.

Grabbing her basket,

Rowan followed John up the hillside to a dense patch of undergrowth that looked impenetrable,

But through which a small path had been cut,

Opening into a space leading into the entrance of a low cave,

Reaching back into the rock.

Inside lay the man.

I had to bring him here for safety,

Explained John.

After you left,

Crow was lurking around and.

.

.

What place is this?

Interrupted Rowan,

As she knelt beside the man and placed her hand on his still-burning brow.

How on earth did you find it?

John shrugged.

I've known of it for a long time,

He admitted.

Sometimes I just need to be alone,

And here is as good as anywhere.

He paused,

And Rowan realised John had been aware of this secret place all his life.

She imagined in the summer the leaves of hazel and beech would form a shady bower,

Cool respite from the hot sun,

And in winter the cave would remain dry as a bone.

She wondered how she had spent her time so close to the place,

Yet never discovered it herself.

He's worse,

Confirmed Rowan,

But she did the right thing.

I've just met Crow and,

Well,

It wasn't good.

Now have you any hot water?

John nodded,

And Rowan set to work.

She made her salve and placed it upon the man's wound.

The brew would follow later when he was able to sip the cooling potion.

There,

She finally sat back,

Feeling more exhausted than ever before in her life,

The shock of her encounter with Crow,

And the concentration on healing the man overcoming her.

Now all we can do is wait,

Murmured Rowan,

As her eyes gently closed of their own accord and John gently covered her sleeping form,

Positioning himself at the entrance of the cave,

Tending the small fire,

Watching and waiting.

When Rowan awoke,

She felt completely disorientated.

She recalled collecting juniper berries and yarrow,

Remembered Crow's hands about her throat,

Then saw the man lying beside her and everything came flooding back.

How is he?

She struggled to sit up,

But John placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder.

Sleeping easily now,

Thanks to you.

His eyes held a measure of respect.

I managed to get him to take some of the yarrow brew and his temperature has lessened.

Rowan nodded.

The man did indeed appear better,

The taut white skin across his cheekbones looser now with a little more colour,

And even the braids of his dark hair which hung almost to his waist seemed less lifeless.

You did well,

Sister,

Murmured John as he tended the small fire,

And for the first time in her life,

Rowan experienced a feeling of true satisfaction.

By the time the shortest day was almost upon them,

Dear men,

As they learned he was called,

Was sitting up and growing stronger with every passing moment.

But that his name was dear men was not the only thing Rowan and John discovered.

Finally,

Rowan understood what happened to the stoat when dear men explained how the great white owl and the stoat which she had encountered were actually himself in different forms.

I know it's hard to believe,

He told her,

His dark eyes holding her entranced,

The melody of his deep voice causing her to feel she could listen to him talking forever.

But there are many things on the earth which we cannot explain,

And all I know is it is the truth.

It's like a fire in my head,

It consumes me,

And then all of a sudden I find a different form,

And the more I do it the easier it becomes.

So the injured stoat was you,

Confirmed Rowan.

Dear men nodded.

When I awoke by the sacred pool I was back in human form.

I remembered something about being picked up,

And then sleeping,

Sleeping,

And then I wasn't sure where I was,

And before anyone came took the bowl and crept away.

I'm sorry.

He smiled gently.

It must have been frightening for you,

But not as bad as if you turned your back on a stoat one moment and found a fully grown man there the next.

Rowan nodded,

Thinking the one aspect of dear men which could never be hidden,

Whatever form he chose to take,

Were his eyes,

Brown as the hazelnuts which fell from the trees around them.

And although the salve helped,

He continued,

The wound opened again and I knew I had to return to the pool in the hope you would find me and be able to finish the work you began.

He reached out and pressed her hand briefly,

Yet firmly.

Thank you,

He finished gravely,

And Rowan knew he meant it from the bottom of his heart.

Bad times are coming,

Dear men told them on another occasion.

It is why I felt the need to come here.

I don't know what,

And I don't know how I can help,

But it is to do with the dark of the year,

To do with the moon and the sun and darkness and light.

Something will happen in the heavens,

And everything will be different on this earth.

Rowan told him the tale of Crow,

The treasure he believed to be hidden beneath the sacred pool,

And his prophecy to the villagers.

I disliked him the moment I first saw him,

Said dear men,

But all we can do is watch and wait.

What will happen if this befalls us,

And how can we prevent it?

Asked John.

I don't know any of the answers,

Replied dear men,

But something tells me we must remember our world is not the only one.

There are ways into the other world.

Your sacred pool is one of them,

And there is another at the base of the highest rock.

It looks like a cave,

But it isn't,

It doesn't go in very deep.

Yet if you venture there,

If the gods allow it,

You will find the entrance to a world which is like our own,

Only different.

Have you been there?

Asked John,

His eyes alight with interest.

Dear men nodded,

Many times through different portals.

He paused.

There are lines of energy all over the earth,

Although we cannot see them,

And the places they cross are of great power,

The sacred pool being one,

Two strong lines cross there.

But the other world is not a place to linger for fear you might not find your way back,

And as I said,

Things are different.

He paused,

And both Rowan and John had the feeling it was best to leave him to his thoughts.

You must rest now,

Said Rowan firmly.

One final thing,

Continued dear men,

As his eyes began to close.

It might be an idea to leave a weapon of some kind there,

Near the portal beneath the rocks,

Just in case you need it.

As dear men sank into the oblivion of healing sleep,

Rowan and John looked at each other and shared the same thought.

There was much yet to happen,

And despite all which had already come about,

Their true battle had not even begun.