Nomad

Nomad

A Journey of one man’s soul.

An auto-biography

 

Chapter I

When time was still young and form was not yet, nothing existed, not land sea nor sky, only the great yawning void.  There was then a great gust of wind that sang into creation the first worlds.

To the south of this void, we will now call, Ginnungagap, the first world came about in a blazing inferno. A world of molten lava, dancing flame; so hot that only those born there may withstand the squelching heat.  In the far reaches of this land sat a rough soot covered fire etin named Surt. It is said that at the end of this time he will come forth and destroy all of creation with his flaming sword.

…The drum beats steadily, a low hum. Beads of sweat drip down my face and sting my eyes as I stare absently into the fire before me, seething and shaking.  “If not now, then when?” I ask myself. The crowd around me awaits the next image that I conjure. The images have stopped. Swaying to the beat, hypnotized by flame all stare intently at me, anticipating.  My gaze fixates on a glowing coal as the images that I translate flow forth into my absent mind…

To the north of this gap lies a world of fog, mist and ice. Snow covers the land as it slumbers deeply for what seems like an eternity. At the core of this world bubbles a magic well, called Hvelgelmir.  This is the source of eleven icy rivers that flow throughout all of the world and into the void where it freezes into a massive sheet of ice.

With the swirling vortex caused by this unknown force that sings; the worlds become closer. The heat generated by the sweltering world of fire begins to melt the sheets of ice that dwell within Ginnungagap.  This slag drips into the center creating a massive blob that begins to take form. This is Ymir, the first of the frost giant.  As he lies there, sleeping, he begins to sweat, and from this are born two more giants, a male and female. His legs, rub one upon the other creating a third. From this same slag, creates yet another being, her name is Adhumla, and she is the great cosmic cow of creation. From her teats flow forth milk that gives nutrients to Ymir and she in turn licks the salty, yeasty ice from the north. As she licks, she begins to unveil another being. On the first evening she unveils the hair of a man, on the second his head and on third steps forth a tall powerful giant. His name is Buri.

Buri marries and sires a son named Bor. Bor in turn marries a giantess named Bestla and they give birth to three sons: Odin, Vili and Ve. These are the first of the gods known as the Aesir.  These three Aesir begin to contemplate the death of Ymir, for they are not fond of him. With no time to waste planning this deed they sneak upon him stabbing his heart.  Ymir screams a blood curdling cry that overwhelms that of the eternal singing and his blood rushes forth like a crimson wave drowning thousands.

The three sons decide to make a beautiful creation from his body. They take his skin, stretching it out creating land, his hair the trees and flowers. His teeth they throw about creating the rocks and pebbles. His spine they shape into mountains and as his blood begins to recede and makes the ocean, rivers and lakes.  They take his skull and place it high in the heavens creating the sky; his brains too, they cast into the sky creating the clouds. From the embers and sparks of the world of fire they throw those to sky creating the stars, sun and moon. They gave two giants named Nott and Dag the responsibility of creating night and day, respectively. They also placed upon a chariot attached to the sun a giantess named Sunna, and her brother named Mani to the moon and told them to ride across the sky every half day.  They then placed Ymir’s eyebrows around this world as a high barrier to prevent the giants to enter it.  Thus creating the world of Midgard

One day, as Odin, Vili and Ve walked the shores of Midgard they came upon a fallen ash and elm tree. Odin breathed into them life and spirit, Vili breathed in thought and consciousness and Ve breathed in sight and speech. These were the first of man and woman. They named them Ask and Embla and decided to give this world to them and all of their descendants.

High up, above the world of ice lies the world of the Aesir, called Asgard. It is a great and beautiful world. Full of brilliant light, flowers and smells of the seasons and times to come. This was also the place where Odin’s hall stood. Its name, Valhalla, the hall where Odin’s chosen slain warriors dwell until the time of the end, Ragnarok.”

…I stand there, drenched in sweat. My hand, I can no longer feel from the vibration of my drum. I collapse from the exhaustion still slightly convulsing. I still feel the intense stare of my friends and family. The full moon casts an eerie luminescent glow over the land and the faces of those around cast a deep shadow. I can longer keep my eyes open as I have already done too much. Someone puts there arms underneath me and lifts me up and takes me to my tent to rest. That is the last I remember.




                                                                 

        Chapter II

I awake with my skin sticking to my sleeping bag; my eyes difficult to open from the dried involuntary tears. It is the first day of Yule and I can hear the clanking of coffee cups and laughter amongst my friends outside. I lethargically change my clothes in this tight crowded space I temporarily call my sanctuary. It’s full with my black and dark green cloak my friend Yana made me, thick enough to wear out in the snow; clothes that I quickly grabbed from home, water and all the other crap I happened to pick up; not to mention my twenty books I always bring. I’m not even sure what I brought. I grabbed my camo pants, which I always bring for some reason and a white t-shirt, and threw them on; I grabbed my drinking horn, cloak and went outside to wake up.

They all look at me smiling as I stagger to the wooden picnic table and plop down.
“Coffee?” Eirween asks me. Leave it to her for the first thing to come out of her mouth is ‘coffee’.
“Yeah,” I said, “and some water.” I lifted up my horn for someone to fill for me, my arm still fatigued from drumming the prior night.
“You make up good stories.” Thordis called across from the green paint chipped picnic table that’s scattered with bagels, cream cheese, fruit and who knows what else. “Who said that I made it up?” I cast a scowl his way. I’m usually a morning person, not very cranking. I guess I was just confused, that’s never happened before as I tell stories. I took a sip of my coffee that Eirween handed me and decided it needed about a cup of sugar before I can drink it. I don’t drink coffee much, but when I do, I can’t stand the taste of it. I replaced the coffee taste in my mouth by guzzling my horn full of water as it starts to overflow and pour down my chest soaking the cloak.

“Cian, come here” Yana called me over to her as she walked toward the creek.  Once she says that I finally notice how cold it is. My feet are still bare and there are six inches of snow on the ground. Once it clicks and the cold begins to set in my feet start to burn and Runa is bringing me my shoes. He is a Bard too, I’m not sure if he has ever experienced what I did last night.  He has great talent, I’m sure he has. And the look in his eyes was a knowing and compassionate on, that was another sign he had.

Runa is in his early forties, dark trimmed beard and his hair changes from shaved to and inch or two long, much like mine does. He always wears his kilt, not a typical wool one but his utilikilt. It’s black cotton with several pockets about it to keep all of his Runa-y stuff it. He also wears his matching black leather moccasins just below his knee. He has been the Bard for some time now, he sings, writes and plays the guitar and recorder and damn he’s good. I’ve always been somewhat envious of him in regards to that. I don’t know why, maybe it’s because I have always wanted to play an instrument or sing and just have never had the discipline to fulfill those desires. He has much more discipline, always organizing everyone, writing charts, lists and anything else that we may need. He keeps us in line and on track.
I’ve always been by intimidated by him too. I’ve known him for three years and I still am a little bit. Maybe it’s because I look up to him so much, I want to be as good as him some day; I just started my path as a bard and still struggle speaking in front of people; he on the other hand, does not.

I slipped my grey hiking boots on. They’re caked with dirt and the rubber on the toe is melted from being too close to the fire. I walked over to Yana wondering what she is going to say. Does she know where I went last night, because I wasn’t here. I’m sure she does, she is very in tune.

People are always intimidated by her, I’m ironically not. I see how loving she is, everyone can have a bite to them and she is no exception, but I’m still not intimidated.  She has a very motherly energy about her, but like I said, mothers brought you into this world and they sure can take you out of it; that’s her fire side, she’s an Aries, like me. She is larger woman, early fifties with silver hair. She always has this little smirk on her face. Not of arrogance, but of that loving mother who can’t completely contain how much she does care for you, it’s only a smirk because she doesn’t want you to know completely because that will give you control, but I do, I see right through it. She always wears just a sweater outside no matter how cold it is, usually this light purple one she wears now.
“Where did you go last night?” She asked.
“I don’t know I’ve never had that happen.” I said, “I have never been there, it felt so real; more real than this world.”
“Cian, you know you have to be careful with that stuff, you could’ve gotten stuck or hurt.”
“I know that, but I couldn’t help it. Yana, I was the wind, I was what sang everything into creation. I experienced the heat, the cold. I was the heat and cold I had no control.”
“You’ve got to learn, Cian. Journeying is not something to be taken lightly.”
I started to get irritated with her, I felt like she was being overbearing. “Look, I know I have to get it under control, this was the first time it’s happened. I’m going to talk to Elbio about it, I think your blowing this out of proportion, and I’m in no mind set for this.” I walked off back to the table grabbed my coffee and horn and went into the woods.

* * *

“Hurry! Finish it quickly!”
The imp briskly began cutting the thread with his small dirk. “Finally, hers was tough. It’s done though master; what of her?”
“Leave her; she’s drained and worthless to me now. Let’s go, with haste.”
The two quickly walked down the dark brick corridor, leaving behind them a massive heap of colorless bodies.
“Who goes there?” A voice hollered from the distance. “Stop!”
“Quickly Dreng, in here.” The imp and the hooded man slipped into the shadows of one of huts and vanished.
“They’re gone; how could that be, I just saw them.”
“I don’t know Eirik, but I think we should go I have bad feel about this.”
“That bastard, he got away with it again. I will catch him one day, that, I promise.”
Just then, they both heard a small sawing sound, like that of cutting thread with a knife. They both looked at each other with eyes wide open. “Run!” Olaf screamed, his knees gave out and he collapsed on the ground, withered and colorless. “Olaf.” Eirik screamed and ran over to him; he began to hear the sawing again and decided it would be better if he came back for him later.
“Agh, he barley got away sir, shall I chase him?”
“No, not now, Let’s go home.”

Eirik saw a hut with a light that came from a window. He slowly started to walk over toward the door. As he began to knock, he fell, hitting his head hard against the oak door knocking him unconscious.


                                               

      * * *

I found a tree that appealed to me and traipsed through the snow to go sit next to it. It was a great weeping willow, the weird thing about it was that the bark was black and the trunk exceptionally large and it opened up near the base. It looked like a doorway and the tree itself looked very sinister and awaiting me to come and join it. I have always been drawn to the dark aspect of things. I think that’s one reason I always feel so confused. I’m never sure which to pursue, the lighter or darker aspect or things.

The temperature was beginning to drop even more. It was so cold that the air stung my lungs as I breathed in. There was no sun visible. The sky a somber gray and the tree I sat next to added to the feel. There were no sounds; even though there was a slight breeze. Every thing seemed to be afraid to make any sound, even the wind. If the silence was broken chaos would ensue, and all creatures and spirits in that area knew it.

Breathing in and out deeply and slowly, I watched my breath come out and noticed the shapes it took on. At first they were all pretty amorphous, nothing particular, plumes of what looked like smoke. On my third breath out everything changed. I noticed that the water that had over flown earlier on my cloak now began to freeze. I noticed that the temperature dropped even more and it lightly began to snow. Small snowflakes slowly drifted around me and it looked like only me. They steadily increased in size and were now slightly larger than a nickel. I began to feel a sense of anxiety and doom. My senses deafened and every thing left my vision. Complete black, utter cold and not even sound could travel in this space. I tried to wiggle my toes and fingers, nothing. The sense of doom grew even further and tears began to stream down my face, freezing nearly instantly.

It was this moment I did not think I would live. If I did get out of this state of nothingness I would certainly die from hypothermia. I saw flashes of men, woman and children screaming...

“Caustic repercussions of internal turmoil
Flowing blood from veins and an ethereal ichor flows and stains my clothes
A throbbing pulsation pounds at my skull as a ferocious beast scratches and screams.
Infernal incantations burning and boiling cause effects unknown from mind and causes strife throughout the bodies of all
A feral scream echoes my mind and blood furiously flows over my body and I drown in my own pain of incarceration
Fermented and incubated in filth brought on by none other than thy own self
Torments of hell and lacerations from a whip that stings and bites only to leave unimaginable wounds
Beveling at stone to further set my path
Aching hands sting and weaken my grip
Doubt and failure plague my mind as the chisel falls covered in my life force
I collapse and roar a blood curdling scream that invokes the darkest of all from the depths of the abyss.”

I ran as furiously as I could away from the pile bodies comprised of the people from my village. My legs began to ache and it felt as if they were going to collapse from fatigue. It seemed to not matter how fast I ran, he always seemed to be on my tail. I looked down at the ground and noticed that I was no longer wearing my gray boot; instead I was wearing a pair of black leather flat shoes that laced up my leg to stay secure. From my ankle up I saw a dirty brown, yellow and green plaid skirt and a light tan blouse spun from flax. I was no longer in my body!

I felt his presence close in on me as I noticed I was not gaining any distance. It felt as if he had thrown a net around to keep me in place. “What do you want?” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I saw images of my brother and parents, but they weren’t mine, they were this girl’s body that I was in. I noticed that my brother wasn’t breathing. He had been to him already. His nine year old body lay motionless on the floor of our home. His face was covered in dirt and dried blood around his nose. I heard that sound. The worst and most blood curdling sound in the world. He was cutting my thread. My spirit felt as if it was trying to escape, stretched thin across the cosmos of where my body lays and this man that has been after me for several days. I begin to throw up from the overwhelming sense of fear and pain…snip…

I gasped for air as I came back consciously to where I was sitting. The air still stung but was better than that air of dread and fear I was breathing in as I was in that girl’s body. Even the dreary gray sky is now an acrid burn in my eyes from my deprived senses. I looked around me and notice that all the snow I was sitting on and around in a six foot radius was melted and I could see the green grass that was bellow it. I look up and notice a break in the cloud and can see the sun peaking up just enough to shine on a raven in a tree. It looks at me, slightly croaks in his throat and flies off toward camp.
“I guess that’s my cue” I murmur to myself as I slowly get up. My arms and legs still a bit numb and my joints are stiff. I reach my hand up and brace myself on the tree to push myself up. The bark is no longer black, but the regular medium brown weeping willows usually are. I stand up and brush off the small twigs and brush that my cloak as picked up and I hear a twig snap behind me. I don’t even bother to look behind me after what I just saw, I ran as fast as I could back to camp with my horn and ice cold coffee in hand.

Everyone stares at me intensely as I run out of the woods breathing heavily. No body even questions me. I sit down next to Thordis and begin gagging down my coffee. Yana is walking away from Elbio, the grove progenitor; she looks at me with a deep sense of concern. “Let’s get ready for the ritual everyone, so we can eat.” No body thinks twice about it when Yana says to do something so they get up and get to work. Elbio comes over to me and sits down putting his hand comfortingly on my shoulder.
“What’s going on Cian?” Asks Elbio with a warming tone that melts the ice that surrounds me from my last journey I had. “Simply put, I’m terrified. I have no idea what’s going on and I don’t know what to do about it. He sits there and scans me, as he always does and I begin to wonder who that girl was and why, of all people, I started to see her.
Elbio is quite an eccentric fellow. He as been my mentor for a few years now, I would say the most productive one too. He does not look his age of forty-two even taking into account his long dark beard and hair streaked with grey. He is slender with a graceful stride and a flowing gait. 

He is the opposite of Yana in how they portray themselves. He always comes across as being supportive and a lot more willing to let you do as you please. His philosophy is if you get burned then you better do different next time. His dark blue-grey eyes are always, like I said earlier, scanning you for subtle energy cues. He’s not obtrusive about it, he is just making sure that everyone is safe and in good order. He is very subtle about it too, the only reason I notice is because I do the same thing.
“What did you see?”  He asked.
I began to explain to him everything I saw and felt from the moment I started walking into the woods. As I continued, his face as always was pretty neutral, but I see what goes on behind his eyes. He was growing concerned and yet a little amused. He is like me in regards to the dark in things. We both get enjoyment out of them and always find humor and the intrigue of it. We also understand some things that most people don’t about the dark. It’s not evil or malicious because of what it is. It does it because it cares. Hela doesn’t cause sickness because she wants to torment us. She does it to provide a test for us to overcome so we don’t become stagnant. She does it to help us grow; most people would argue with that but I know it to be true. “Go get some rest before ritual.” That’s all he has to say after all of that. I push myself up from the table and walk to my tent to change for ritual.


                                                       

      * * *

“A breath of fresh air, free from pity, isn’t it nice?”
“Yes lord, what of me now?” Says Dreng coyly.
“Just go home, back to your waste land and be here at first dawn.”
“Yes my lord, farewell.”
Like a black cloud’s shadow that smothers the sun, the hooded man walks down a narrow path consuming everything in utter darkness. Even the trees that line this path which have done and seen things no man can imagine they still try to uproot to stay out of his way. He walks into a dimly lit cavern and around a big gapping hole in the center out the other end and into a small clearing surrounded by trees and small everlasting fire in the center. “I’m tired of waiting; it’s time to find this.” He softly says to him self as he sit facing north in front of the fire. He reaches inside his robes and pulls out a small leather pouch. As he reaches in a smell so bitterly pungent fills the air that he has to hold his breath to prevent from what feels like suffocation. He takes a pinch of the powder inside and casts it into the fire and places the pouch back into his robes.
           
The fires blazes up in frenzy and turns green for an instant. He stares intently expecting to see something leap out and pull him in. He begins to sway and hum to him self a monotone tune of M’s and UH’s. As his eyes glaze over and turn to an empty void he stops humming and his blank eyes begin searching for something. Using his hands he begins to guide himself on this pattern he traces in the air. “There!” He says, and he vanishes.