Tags

, , , , , , , ,

The Magical, Fantastical World of Springhill Farm

{A place where the names are all kept vital, for the protection of strangers.}

By Gregga J. Johnn

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Food was eaten, drinks were mixed and drunk (of the chocolate milk kind), laughter was plentiful, adventure was sought and found, and much love was nurtured. All in all, it was the best week of simple farm living for a family full of hope and new beginnings.

The early teen boys especially loved the bedtime story their mema read to them each night. She had longed to share the tale she’d been creating for nearly a decade. There was a whole universe, populated and wondrous, that she couldn’t wait to share with the rest of the world. To talk about, laugh and cry with the heroines, fight the villains, cheer on the underdog and debate over the choices each made in their own hearts. Her son’s loved it and Gentle cherished their delight. But after her full week was up, she pulled out of their driveway and turned the radio up loudly.

A song came on that reminded her too clearly of loneliness and how the heart still yearns for a long lost Beloved. She knew not if he lived, or if he had died a hero’s death. She would never know. So to ease her aching soul, she wished for another Captain to take his place. Perhaps she could steal one away from his ocean. Perhaps one would make for land and find home upon her shores, keeping her comforted in all the night watches.

With a twinge of guilt she sent a text to Justus.

Even as she waited for his response she questioned why she sought to relieve her aching heart in places where pain only seemed to thrive? ‘Because she was human’ was the only answer she could ignore as she continued on her set path. She was determined to be loved, no matter how much it hurt in the end. Her impatience knew no bounds.

The phone barked and she left it where it was concentrating on her driving. But when the text ding from Justus sang in her ears, she pulled over into a parking lot to arrange for another meeting by the river.

Summer was dreamy by the river and possibilities were endless.

Justus was open to receiver her and their connection was powerful and instant. Neither could explain how they connected so fully and so quickly. Their conversations were spiritual and learned, both having a past of study. Their agreement on foundations and core beliefs were as one and their kisses . . . oh, the kisses . . . .

It was a summer romance of epic proportion. “Amazing” was all Gentle could say with her glow burning in blinding brilliance as she recalled the day’s events to her sister Mercy. Mercy took to calling him “the Amazing Justus” but her tone was more sarcastic than admiring.

Justus met Mercy when he stopped by the farm for a quick visit. He was as much enamored with Gentle as she was with him. But, Mercy took an immediate dislike to him and warned her sister of her uneasiness at such exuberant happiness. Gentle took note of her sister’s wisdom. She didn’t discard it, but attended to her cautions, yet she was so happy that she clung to the moment just hoping with expected dread that she might hold on as long as she could.

As Justus rode his chrome away, the equestrian herd demanded food, so Gentle floated down to the coral moving to where she could not see the other side of the farm.

The gully on the far edges held shadows that lengthened in the twilight and as the sailor rode by a sudden rush startled and he swerved to avoid the shadow. Speeding up, sensing something unseen, he shook his head in the wind trying to find clarity in the confusing waves that crashed in his own heart.

The wolf chased him all the way down the road barking ferociously and howled loudly in defence of his territory at the crest. Satisfied that potential threats had been discarded for the moment, he trotted happily, tongue out panting, all the way back down to his gully.

As Gentle curled to sleep in her feathered bed that night, a sorrowful howl pierced the night and a darkness crept in where it was not welcome. A weakness in the walls had been found and the arrow launched. Gentle tossed in her dreaming.

It was a dark night on the island and the white lioness prowled the hilltop. Pacing back and forth she watched the beaches below. The moon shone in brilliant silver and the fae path twinkled upon the resting waters of the sea out past the crashing waves that ringed her fortress.

With a flying leap, the lioness pounced upon the moonbeam transforming into the trio of sisters that inhabited the lands of subconscious safety. They climbed upon the silver path seeking the heights of understanding. Hope and dread mingled slippery under foot and many a wing beating was necessary to aid in the climb. The clouds settled about them and another dimension opened up ushering visitations from a dark companion of long ago.

Hard and cold plate armour clinked in the air as the Siren braced for attack and faery dust swirled as the delicate one prepared also. Gentle stood her ground between the two watching warily as he approached.

“Good even, lover.” He crooned.

“I am and never was yours to love. What interest do you have with me?” Gentle was not afraid.

He smirked,

“Well, I never loved you, but you know that.” He chuckled, “You of all creatures should know I am incapable of such, hey pretty one?” He tapped the faery girl’s chin, and she looked sadly into his eyes.

The Siren dropped her spear closer toward his person in silence.

“Ahh, yes, the guardian.” He circled the warrior, “you’re so strong and deadly,” he stepped up to whisper into her ear from behind, “unless you know where to find the chink.” He licked her neck and she shuddered.

Gentle took hold of all her hands singing clearly to the Light in the darkness.

“I’m going.” He tossed his hands up in the air smirking at the wonder of himself. “I just wanted to visit you again.” He leered lustily at the three, “I miss this separation of you.”

Gentle lifted her hands in prayer and the three became one again. She stood towering as an Amazon beauty with all three sets of wings billowing out from her back singing her mediations of praise to Elohim. The darkness left.

Gentle lowered her arms and walked peacefully past a different pair of careful, secret eyes watching from the forest shadows. She made her way eagerly to the cabin nestled as a lean-to in the shadow of the Lighthouse. There was comfort in the sight of a great bed in the corner, a constant fire by the hearth and a long wooden table in the centre. She was not alone here, there was much comfort awaiting her and she entered her rest looking ahead with open heart, vulnerable and ready for battle.

When she awoke the next day there was a voicemail on her phone from Justus. He requested they talk. There was much heaviness in his voice and Gentle knew the ocean called to this sailor again and even she was not strong enough to hold him back from her, his mistress.

Chapter 18

The Moonbeam Faery Path

The Moonbeam Faery Path