My Story Lives, in Iron Forest Town; a Deep-Rooted Town, of Old Trees and Older Ways. 

My Story Lives, in Iron Forest Town; a Deep-Rooted Town, of Old Trees and Older Ways. 

One dusty, long ribbon of a road was the only way that leads to Iron Forest. It was a place where kindred and townsfolk alike knew how to weave a story; knew how to keep secrets hidden. A place where the days always feel more than what they seem; a child’s day in the sun, lived for the anticipation of the mystery, each new moment brings.

My friends, Einar, Barin, Isabel and I, were taught a hard lesson that autumn. Some secrets work their way from a dark thorny place, to cast a shadow upon our souls. A shadow that slowly infects with its presence, every sunlit corner it can creep into; carving a place deep so the light has to find its way out. I knew the moments to come, would change me forever.

I live with my Daddy, Magnus in an old two story house near the Raven Creek Bridge; of which I cross daily, after collecting wild plants from Caedmon’s field. I slowly walk the planked bridge, just to hear the creaking of the aged wood boards beneath my bare feet. The sun faded wood is silvered and shiny, worn by time; so all of the splinters have been rubbed smooth.

My Daddy, Magnus, calls me Angel Blue. He said my name was chosen long before I came into being, from the earliest Gate Watchers.  The time had come to be taught the lessons of my natural born gift.

Magnus smiled and says, “Angel, you are a seer on the wing within your dreaming.” I knew I had a gift of awareness; for finding secrets that were meant to stay buried; secrets that should never come to light. I was ever watchful and I often wondered who was watching me.

My Daddy told me that the story began long ago, in a small, forested Hamlet, where the town’s people have learned to walk in their own light. Magnus, looking out into the forest beyond our hills, says, “They walk as the chosen ones who came before us, and you must do the same, when it is your time.”

The menfolk, like their Fathers before them, were blacksmiths, carpenters, hunters, teachers and magicians. They are protectors of the vision; watchers in the night.

The womenfolk are gilded by sun and storm; shining, nurturing storytellers, walking in their visions by daylight, harnessing the dream energy at nightfall.

I remember so well, that autumn season arrived into our town, accompanied by storms that sounded like a freight train lost in the night. It seemed to me like an omen; if only I could have seen what was to come.

I was up in my bedroom, warm and safe by lamp glow, sewing my Mother’s white cotton dress; the one with little blue flowers that look more like blueberry stains since I have been wearing it.

I tore the sun faded lace hem this afternoon, as I walked through old man Caedmon’s fields grabbing for berries, with the briars grabbing me back. Caedmon lets me walk in his fields; he watches me from his upstairs porch, as he waits out the sun going down, with whiskey, his pipe and his thoughts…

I think it gives him pleasure to see my fine hair and cotton dress glow in the setting sun; a whippoorwill darts past me and flies toward him as his gaze is steady upon something I cannot see. He is a man of great wealth, owning much land and lumber. He is ruggedly handsome, like my Daddy, from years of felling trees and blacksmithing. His presence is formidable but gentle. I sometimes see darkness reflected in his silver blue eyes, watching me; but I am careful as to not show him that I have noticed.

Einar, Barin, Isabel and I grew up together in Iron Forest Town with a deep understanding of the secret gifts we would wield one day. As it has been told, our bond had been silently arranged among the Elders, long ago, into the story and birth of Iron Forest.

The autumn season that had come to our town would test the depth of our souls and the very fabric of our light, forever changing the path that was written for us; and perhaps for all.

I must reveal to you the depth of feeling, shared between Einar and me.  He and I chose one another as children, when the Elders allowed the union of two special souls to be promised. This was our law, for the sake of the Seer needs a Watcher for protection during the time of visions.

I knew then as I do now that Einar was to be forever intertwined with my story…my very existence.

The shadows that envelop Einar are primal, fierce and protective. Einar is a Watcher and grand Seer from the first warrior. His lineage was boldly carved in a secret storm; a Watcher in the dark was his seal.

His gift as a Seer and Watcher was to protect me in my time of vision. This bond was silent but very forceful between us and he recognized this as his fate. Always near, always watching…

To be continued…

~ Follow me and my writings at Duskflyer Vision Art & Productions, to stay engaged and see the newest adventures I am working on! ~

By Duskflyervisions

This is a place you can choose to view or purchase, distinctive fine art paintings, archival photographs, heirloom, hand-painted and collectible egg ornaments, writings and books by Tommie Flannery Baskis © 2018 Duskflyer Vision Art & Productions. All Rights Reserved.


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