It calls to me, to us, the woods that is. Like the pied piper the wind blows through the trees sending such a soft and sweet melody through our ears calling, enticing us to find the source. Oh what a beautiful sound it is, I do wish you could hear it. My grandmother told me story's of how she would sit in her mothers lap and they would crack open the window and listen to the beautiful gentle song of the trees. Night after night they fell more in love with the sounds as they swept through the entire town. However, not all appreciated the gifts the trees had given us and they did what humans do best, tried to turn a profit.

Unfortunately people not born in our little town could not hear the beautiful song of the trees. "If you will not sing for the outsiders then you need not sing at all." They spat in a blind rage once they realized the trees would not line their pockets with wealth. So they called in many a lumberjack and bulldozers so that they may line their pockets in a different way. The lumberjack raised his axe up high and with a mighty swing cut into the bark of the first tree, and out came a screech so gut wrenching and ear splitting it was heard all the way at the edge of town but no farther. And the lumberjack along with all of the men who had come to turn the beautiful trees into paper dropped dead.

From then on, like a sweet siren the woods sang and anyone who dared enter the woods to hurt the trees be it by accident or on purpose fell victim to the screech. Night after painful night it woke them from their sleep and when morning came the police would deliver the news to the town via radio of whom had perished. These woods have fueled many ghost stories they say, if you hear what sounds like change in your pocket as you walk and you don't have any. Then the spirit of the businessman who tried to cut down the forest will drag you down with him. Or if you hear a random thud in the night, its the sound of the lumberjacks body hitting the ground.

Well i can't say there is no credibility to the stories that are told. These woods are haunted with the souls that dared to threaten it, forced to spend their days wandering and dying a painful death over and over again with each shrill call. And in the night the trees whisper to me a funny joke, they say "If you will not live for me then you need not live at all."

I have let my heart jump so many times

Only to watch it fall back down and break

I have lost my mind so many times

And it almost made me find my fate

I have blinded myself from the truth

Only to see it more clearly

when it’s too late to make a move

I have learned that truth

Is the only way that we can ever really win,

Because the prize you think you’ve won with sin

Turns out to be much more painful than "losing" would have been

So I take my regrets, all the drops of blood I’ve spilled

And I flood them on a page, with this scarlet pen

Hoping others will learn

From my life’s anthem.

The Queen of the Forest, she rules the land.

The flowers, they bow beneath her silken feet.

The rain falls at her yearning command.

The berry-bearing bushes, they invite her to eat.

You may enter the forest, if you like.

But on entering, you may never leave.

Once you have made the perilous hike,

the forest's secret, you shall perceive.

The land is lawless without the Queen.

For she is the forest's precious jewel.

She speaks, and the forest sighs so serene.

For the Queen of the Forest has only one rule.

Protect the land and love it well.

Sing soft to the moondrunk fairies.

Kiss the rivers, the banks will swell.

Tend wisely to the poison berries.

Love the land and protect it well.

Let no harm cross it's timeless borders.

Beneath the Queen's amorous spell,

never stray from her golden orders.

The land is loveless without the Queen.

For she is the forest's mother and child.

The dewy leaves drink from her endless sheen.

For the Queen's only rule keeps the forest land wild.

To love and protect what is most dear.

Keep the forest away from all that is cruel.

What is precious and tender breathes in harmony here.

For the Queen of the Forest has only one rule.

The Queen of the Forest only had one rule: Do not consider any word spoken or written by the King of the Sea.

Before the Great Shattering - before Aelementa - there were no Kingdoms. The Forest, the Sea, the Desert, the Mountain, the Swamp, the Jungle, the Plain, the Island - all were but one, and that one realm was Aetheria. Ghondaliah - Goddess of Order - ruled supreme. All was in near-perfect harmony until Gaurihe - Demigod of Turbulence - escaped his exhile. He cast a mighty spell and ushered in the Age of Deluge.

The sky bawled lawlessly for 100,000 straight days. The rain bred with the earth, and the Sea was born. Gaurihe initiated another spell and created a 100,000-day storm, ravaging the waters with lightning and thunder, violently sculpting the once-immaculate Aetheria into his own twisted masterpiece, banishing Ghondaliah to what became the Forest.

Satisfied with his deeds, Gaurihe dove to the very depths in that dark cauldron of change he had manifested, spilling and spreading his chaotic seed for eons to come.

The queen of the forest had only one rule:

Don't pet the ghost stallions on the northern thule

They were a gift from the west barbarians, you see

Destined to roam the lands so fast and free

Never felt hunger, never felt a touch of fear

They waited faithfully until a midnight so clear

In their master would wander with golden gear

And he rode them into an underworld drenched in despair

To show the Lost how the magical beasts lived without a care

the queen of the forest sat and thought: now , anarchy is abolished, but law and order are quite unlikely. i am a queen with no police. the bears won’t accept a sales tax, the deers will openly disobey a universal vaccination rule.

so what is it that i can do, as a queen, that will bring respect, happiness and peace to my realm?

no slaves?

third party indemnity?

no loitering?

i can go old school, perhaps:

thou shall not kill? good luck getting the turtles onboard.

thou shall not covet your neighbors wife? again..turtles...

ah, the hell with it. just go with "no smoking. " as if anyone will care...

the queen

of the forest

had one

rule

no outsiders

outsiders

did not

understand

the delicate

balance

her kingdom

maintained

that

every

petal

every

leaf

every

twig

was part

of one

luminous

whole

that

disruption

led to

destruction

only she knew

how to keep

her realm

of glass

from

shattering

she was alone

but it was

perfect

Nothing would ever bring him back from the sea. Roland was lost to her... forever. The tragic thing about it all, was that she wasn’t entirely sure if she was saddened or angered by the fact. Such a waste of a young life! Roland thoughtlessly cast his life away, as if he were casting out his nets for a day’s work.

She tried to warn him, but he was too stubborn to listen to reason. She pleaded with him to stay - to stay with her. But sadly, to no avail, Roland left her high and dry with a small child to raise on her own. Why? To pursue that unholy mermaid that had been haunting the harbor.

The creature enchanted him! Thrall. At least that’s what the elder seamen called it. Thrall. All it took was a single song, a few mesmerizing notes, and the mermaid had Roland tightly in her clutches. That monster, though impossibly beautiful, promised to love him. Promised to take him to a castle far beneath the waves. Promised to shower him with pearls. All lies and trickery!

The morning after Roland left her behind, coldly, without even giving her the dignity of a goodbye, his lifeless body was discovered floating in the harbor. A group of early morning fishermen returned the man’s bloated body to the heartbroken widow. The fishermen pledged to hunt the mermaid down and kill her. By the gods, she prayed they would succeed. To leave a rogue mermaid free to swim the waters of their humble fishing village, would only put the lives of other young men like her Roland at risk. For now, all she could do was look out over the harbor with bleary, tear filled eyes. Her husband was granted the traditional fisherman’s burial, with a funeral pyre set out to sea. Salty tears relentlessly streamed down her cheeks, as she came to accept that nothing would ever again bring Roland back from the sea.

Long ago, the life of a warrior was measured by his opponents. In all the known lands, the children of the Lochlann king were by far the best fighters. There were eight of them. Four boys and four girls. They were as beautiful as they were strong, with their dark hair and wide, brown eyes.

Mothers trained their children in combat, and the Lochlann queen was an unrivaled teacher. Each of her children held a special gift in endurance, strength, speed, grace and many other qualities besides, so that their band of eight could easily defeat twice their number. As they grew, they became the target of many who wished to be remembered in the songs for their bravery.

The children were barely when their mother was laid to rest in a great flaming ship sent out to sea, as was befitting such a queen. She’d been as beautiful and strong as the children she bore, and when she died the King had no eye for a woman for many years. In the end, it was his own children who persuaded him to search for someone to fill his loneliness. He left half-heartedly, but returned with a renewed glow in his eyes and a beautiful wife. Although still very young, she was already a widow left frail from the disease that had killed her first husband.

It wasn’t hard for the new wife to take the children into her heart as if they were her own. She loved the king dearly and his children were an extension of that love. But there was always a distance between them, because the children saw no strength or bravery in this new queen.

Even with their differences the family might’ve eventually found contentment, but a great force gathered to attack Lochlann. The Lochlannach, each and every one, prepared for the upcoming fight. The fragile queen was the only citizen unfit for battle, and the king was uncertain how best to protect her. At last he decided to send her to a remote cave in the cliffs high above the sea. He trusted only his own children to act as her guards. The children did know the love and happiness the new queen gave to their father, and for this they hoped she’d live, but they didn’t want to be left out of the fight. Send her up alone. Surely the Lachlannach could defeat anyone before they came so far as such a remote cave.

The queen also fought the plan. If the invaders were able to cross to her, it would mean her husband must be dead. How could he let her live a second time as a widow, and her life in the hands of the enemy would be far worse than death. Her husband wouldn’t be swayed. He didn’t have the heart to lose another wife. When she saw her persuasions had failed, the queen contrived a plan of her own. Courage isn’t only found in battle. The queen waited at the edge of the waves in search of a Finn man. It wasn’t long before she spotted one in a slender boat made of animal skins. He skimmed along the surface of the water with unlikely speed. The Fin men are known as eloquent seducers. Not many humans would call out to a Finn, especially a woman alone.

The queen knew they were also gifted in sorcery. If she could learn a few of his secrets, she would contribute something useful to her new family. She called out to him, and he was beside her before she could blink an eye.

Finn folk have a great weakness for silver and can’t resist it. The queen chose three silver pieces from a leather purse she carried at her hip and held them out with a shaking hand.

“Three silver coins for three magical secrets,” she said.

He had a dilemma. What did he want more, the beautiful human or her silver?

“Lie down with me here on the rocks,” he offered. “We’ll enjoy something truly magical.”

The queen blushed, but she kept her hand out and made her bid again. “Three silver coins for three magical secrets.”

The Finn stroked his chin. “Are you aware that my magic will be considered dark arts in your world?”

Afraid to speak, she moved her head slowly up and down.

“Don’t you believe your soul will be tarnished? And to what purpose?

He searched for the queen’s weakness in the hope that he might attain both her and the coins. She wasn’t swayed.

“Three silver coins for three magical secrets.”

Too fast for human eyes, the Finn snatched the silver from the queen’s hand and took hold of her face. He blew a magic breath into her as they plunged into the sea. They dove deep into the blue water farther and farther from the sun and the air. The queen decided she was stolen for sure and would never see the surface again.

But the Finn kept to the queen’s bargain. He brought her to a place in the underworld of Tir na Nog where she might learn from him for a year, while in her own world only minutes had passed. When the queen reappeared on the shore, she was a strong and powerful sorceress with eyes that radiated bright understanding of our true world.

In his love, the king was blind to her sudden change, but his children noticed. In spite of their bravery, their blood ran cold whenever they were near her.

The day came for the queen to hide in the remote cave with her stepchildren. Before she left, she walked in a circle around the king and whispered strange words under her breath. She told him it was just a small prayer she had brought with her from her own land, but it was really a spell that made him untouchable in battle. Leaving him with the first of her magical secrets, she was certain he would live.

From the far-away cave, children and stepmother waited out the uncomfortable silence. For two days, they watched their army camp unmolested on the beach. At sunrise on the third day, the attackers swarmed, but the Lochlann camp slept unaware. The enemy army stalked from the other side. They hadn’t come to do battle with the people of Lochlann; they’d come for the children.

The Lochlannoch children formed a circle around their stepmother. She was surrounded by the cries of battle, the crash of metal, the smell of blood and sweat and fear. She formed her own ring of protective enchantment around her family and held it as long as her mind would allow.

The children fought well. The floor of the cave couldn’t be seen beneath the bodies of fallen adversaries, but more lined up to meet the children in combat. The queen felt the strength of her magic begin to fade, and though they weren’t injured, the children were spent from the fight. She raised her arms and called out to the forces of nature. Winds swirled and waves smashed against the jagged rocks. The warriors dropped their swords to their sides, and the fighting stopped as they watched her. After a time, the seas became calm and stretched smooth as the best woven fabric. The queen opened her eyes and looked to her stepchildren.

“Run into the sea,” she commanded them. “I’ve cast a spell that will allow you to hide deep in the ocean, as strong and swift and courageous in the water as you have been on the land. If your captors wish to follow you, they will drown.”

The exhausted children could fight no longer. They clambered down the rocks with their approaching captors at their heels. As soon as the feet of the children hit the sea, they cried out in pain, but they didn’t stop. They dove into the waves and in their place appeared eight silver seal heads. Some of the enemy did attempt to catch them, but each one who tried was dragged under by the powerful current. The rest stayed in the cave and turned their swords toward the queen. No one dared make the first move.

What now, wondered the queen. She turned toward the sea where she’d found the magic of a Finn man.

A warrior near the queen saw indecision cross her face. He made his move, plunging a knife deep into her chest.

The air grew hot and still. No birds called from the sky. No waves crashed against the rocks. Every human breath suspended.

Something…some…being shot through the taut surface of the ocean. He appeared bow first in a slender animal skin boat without causing even one ripple on the water around him. His presence seemed tied to the stagnant suppression of life that had settled upon the world. The face that stared up at the group on the cliff was inhumanly emotionless, but when his sharp, raptor-like eyes fell on the limp body of the queen, the sea began to churn and froth around him. Clouds gathered in the sky. Towering gray waves clawed at the mouth of the cave.

The terrified warriors ran as fast as they could. They knew it was unlucky to cross the sea folk. Those who made it back to their ships hoisted their sails and sped away, only to face storms the likes of which have not been seen before or since.

The abandoned body of the poor queen dangled over a rock high above the wild sea. A drop of blood rolled from her chest down the smooth curve of her arm, over her hand, along her finger until it hovered for a moment like a teardrop from the tip of her nail. It fell reluctantly into the water. One spot of red suspended in the tumultuous ocean. A combination of the queen’s life force and the magic she created merged with the rage of a Finn. The unspoken spell to bring the children back to human form was forever altered by the sea.

And so…in return for the gift of their lives, the children of the king of Lochlan and their descendants became the selkie. They might shed their sealskin to walk once more in human form upon the earth, but they live always between two worlds, wishing for land while in the water and for the water while on the land. Many times a man has seen a beautiful selkie shed her seal skin to dance on the beach. Filled with desire, the man will steal the woman’s skin and hide it. Unable to return to the water, the woman will live with him, until the day one of their children finds the skin.When such a woman is held to the land, the wild ocean will always call to her back.

Let her go before she breaks your heart.

#magic #sea #ocean #myth #legend #celtic #selkie #selchie

The young boy scrambled into his room, the sound of his father yelling behind him. He acted quickly, sliding the dining room chair he had against the doorknob, falling back as he heard his father pound on the door. He covered his ears, willing the sound away as he went into his closet, closing the door behind him.

He felt tears pricking his eyes, but pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry again, not over this man. Once the yelling calmed, October felt around in the dark until his hands found the wooden music box.

He picked it up, looking it over and sighing. The box had been a gift from his mother, before she had passed away. It was the only thing he had left to remember her, the only thing his father hadn’t gotten rid of yet.

He wound it up, opening the lid and watching the little ballerina inside spin, playing the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. The tears that he thought he’d pushed back now spilled over, running down his cheeks as he hugged the music box close, wishing that he could see her one last time.

The memories of his mother holding him, soothing him played in his head. There were many good memories, the time they went to the zoo and October had found his favorite animal, a lion. The day he went to dance lessons for the first time and found his niche. There were bad memories, too -- the days where his mother would be kneeling in front of him, smearing foundation and concealer on his skin to hide the dark bruises so the teachers wouldn’t question, the days that she would just cry and hug him close.

He wished he could just see her one more time. To tell her he’d be okay, that she didn’t have to worry about him. All he had now, though, was the music box. The most precious gift he’d ever received.