Ageless Words – Before the throne

This is one of my favourite quotes:

“Tomb, thou shalt not hold Him longer; Death is strong, but Life is stronger; Stronger than the dark, the light; Stronger than the wrong, the right; Faith and Hope triumphant say Christ will rise on Easter Day.” – Phillips Brooks

Easter is both a time of death, suffering and a stone tomb. But, more than that, it is a time of life, of renewal, of forgiveness and hope.

When you look around you – whether it is the daily news or perhaps even your own circumstances – it is very easy to forget that there is still good in the world. Days may be dark – but there have always been dark days. Chaos seems all around – but has it not been like that for centuries? Light will triumph in the end because it has already triumphed. There is no need to search for immortality and everlasting joy, because it is already within reach – just beyond the doorway, just beyond the curtain. The Light has already triumphed and the tomb is empty. Death is nothing now.

rume roderas; þæt is rice god,
sylf soðcyning, sawla nergend,
se us eal forgeaf þæt we on lifgaþ,
on deft æt þam ende eallum wealdeð
monna cynne. þæt is meotud sylfa.

The God of glory, the God of all strength,
made the wide firmament
and the kingdom of heaven.
He is the true King,
The Keeper of souls,
The One who forgives,
the One who bestows life here and hereafter –
the Ruler of mankind.
He is the One who is.
~ From “Maxims I – B”, translation by Brigit Pegeen Kelly. 
Quoted from The Word Exchange: Anglo-Saxon Poems in Translation, eds. Greg Delanty and Michael Matto. Published by W.W. Norton & Company.www.wwnorton.com/books/ 

Before the throne

In my room I will bow before the throne
And be still and search for words
In the tongues I know
To exalt and praise and plead.

I will go into my room to be alone,
I will be still and think only of this
And realise that there is an ear that will hear my words
On the throne that none can see.
I will think of ancient stone and desert lands harsh to withstand
And buildings great and grand.

But not there, not there will I go, not where all can see
A lone person praying. A broken person pleading.
I will be still and know that here my words are like
A song of praise that I can but imagine and not sing,
That stuttering words will become sweet music,
That simple words will be given flight,
That all asked from the Prince will be answered,
That the Spirit will fill the simple room where I am,
That the King will place his hand on my shoulder,
That I will go from this room with new life.

Tears will be dried,
New life will enter me.
New love will enter me.
New peace will enter me.
I will be unbound and look at the world anew.

I will go into my room to be alone,
To plead, to praise, to humbly ask for new life.
~ Written by Carin Marais

May you have a wonderful and blessed Easter weekend!

Worldbuilding Wednesday – How to build a world

Or, How to make stuff up in many relatively easy steps
While pulling some threads together for a new piece of Airthai-history, taking place between two stories, I read some of the old ‘articles’ and short stories I wrote about the world and the changes which has come about as the world expanded from a forest (Jungians would probably have a field day…)  to a city called Brenoth and now many kingdoms, some of which are still undiscovered. I can’t give a done and dusted how-to list about how to build an instant fantasy world, but I can explain how I go about it. I’ll also be posting some extra short stories*  about some of the events and people which have shaped Airthai. 


Early days
When I started writing about Airthai, it was with a story idea which popped into my head: a great house of learning in the centre of a great wood. This would become Holt Haliern and it would be inhabited by “Keepers” or “Guardians” coming from the different surrounding kingdoms. Soon the ‘bad guys’ showed up from a place called Brenoth… If you have read “A Dragon’s Freedom” or “The Price of Freedom”, you’ll probably ask where this ‘Brenoth’ is. Well, it’s a couple of centuries in the future, waiting to happen!


Build it, and the stories will come…
What I am trying to show is that I didn’t sit down with a blank WikidPad file (O, WikidPad, how I love thee) and typed “The Creation of the World”. Perhaps it would have spared a lot of rewriting and re-invisioning, but it would also have spoiled the fun. And that what it is supposed to be, after all. As the story I was writing at the time grew, I wrote extra stories, extra ‘articles’ and answered many questions posed, like “Why are these guys bad/evil?” “Why doesn’t kingdom A trust Kingdom B?” 
I had a vague idea of what the world was like, but I only really found out about the world as characters and stories grew. ‘Seat-of-pants’ worldbuilding, if you will. Slowly pieces of the world fell into place. Some were big and ‘mythical’ pieces like ‘The Creation of the World’ and some were ideas I thought was just cool at the time. For instance, ‘dragon tears’ were just supposed to be cool stones which glowed. Only later, when writing a fairy tale-like story (Aune and Everard), did a real dragon show up and I realised that I needed to find out how dragons fit into the story of Airthai. And so, Skáhag and the dragons of Airthai were born… and kind of took over for a while.


Next week: The Midland Wars, part 1


Ps. Next week I’ll also have more info about Secret Project 1: Kammastories**

*Real short stories, not the kind you plan to be about 6,000 words long and end up almost 32,000 words long.
**And I will save my maniacal laugh of glee for next week as well.

Poetic Tuesday: Gold's Call

Gold

In time long past the stories were told

Of brave men searching for lost gold.

They searched from sea to shore

But ne’er did they find the golden ore

Until one day they stumbled on golden vein

Far below the stars.

The men stayed there and mined the gold

And said no word ‘till they grow old

And all then swarmed by gold intox’d

To hills of gold whence fortune sprung

And searched and mined and ruined the land

Far below the stars.

But veins do often dry when tapped

And dry did vein become after years

And all left the hills of gold,

The place where they grew old

And sought a new horizon

Far below the stars.

The land fought back and closed the holds

That old men mined to search for gold

And grew slow upon the heaps of stone

So that green became the horrid bone

Until the land had conquered gold

Far below the stars.

And so the ages passed once more

Without a single thought of ore

In the valley lying still

Where no one will search until

They stumble on a golden vein

Far below the stars.

This poem was written about the same time as the first draft of the story which became "The No Good Killer". Unfortunately, I can't quite remember what exactly I had read about gold mining which led me to write these pieces. Something which have left quite an imprint on my mind is the many mine dumps around Johannesburg (living in the "City of Gold" does have its drawbacks. For instance; the streets are not paved with gold).

These are some photos of mine dumps outside Johannesburg, taken on a trip from Bloemfontein[1] to Johannesburg about two years ago. (The photos show the transition of the open plains of the Free State until you reach the city with its millions of people. More as a reference for me than a great piece of art.)

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[1] Yes, the Bloemfontein where Tolkien was born. And, yes, I did ‘squee’ a bit about it when I was in the city. Unfortuantely I didn’t have time to search for the plaque commemorating his birthplace, as I was working very long hours. 

Ageless Words Friday - She stood by the cross of Christ

For this last week before Easter, I chose the song “Stabat iuxta Christi crucem”, written by John Browne.

When I first read the lyrics, I was deeply touched by the emotion of the song. All the sadness of the crucifixion is contained. What really touched me in this song was the personal focus on the sadness and horror of a mother having to watch her child killed.

Here is a video of the song, but it can also be listened to here. Below the video is the English lyrics, followed by and Afrikaans translation[1].

Or listen to Anonymous 4's rendition here.

She stood by the cross of Christ

She stood by the cross of Christ

seeing the true light suffer,

the mother of the king of all;

seeing his head crowned

with thorns, his side pierced,

she saw her son die.

She saw his body beaten;

his gentle hands and feet

pierced by cruel men;

she saw his head bent down,

his body stained with the blood of

the shepherd for his sheep.

She saw the bitter drink mixed,

saw her child crucified,

the ruler of all things.

The lashes he endured

the mother and daughter saw,

and she saw the cruel taunts.

The virgin heard these words

from her innocent child:

‘Mother, behold your son.’

The virgin saw her son

saying: ‘It is finished’,

and thus the sword pierced her soul.*

Thus she was left in sorrow

as the loving maiden

saw her son die;

a vast sorrow, a sorrow

that surpassed the martyrdom

of a thousand saints.

Gentle virgin, loving virgin,

hope of all, way of life,

virgin full of grace,

bid and implore your son

that to your servants

he may now grant joy. Amen.

*Luke 11:35, Prophecy of Simeon

Sy het by Christus se kruis gestaan

Sy het by Christus se kruis gestaan

en gesien hoe die ware lig ly,

die moeder van die koning van almal;

het gesien hoe word sy kop met dorings

gekroon, sy sy deurboor,

sy het gesien hoe sterf haar seun.

Sy het gesien hoe word sy lyf geslaan;

sy sagte hande en voete

deur wrede mans deurboor;

sy het sy kop gebuig gesien,

sy liggaam gevlek met die bloed van

die skaapwagter vir sy skape.

Sy het gesien hoe word die bitter drank gemeng,

sy het gesien hoe word haar kind gekruisig,

die heerser van alle dinge.

die slae wat Hy deurstaan het

het die moeder en die dogter gesien,

en sy het die wrede bespotting gesien.

Die maagd het hierdie woorde

van haar onskuldige kind:

‘Moeder, daar is jou seun.’

Die maagd het haar seun sien

sê: ‘Dit is volbring’,

en die swaard het haar siel deurboor.*

Sy is in verdriet gelaat

soos die liefdevolle maagd

haar seun sien sterf;

’n diepe hartseer, ’n verdriet

wat die martelaarskap

van ’n duisend heiliges oortref het.

Sagte maagd, liefdevolle maagd,

hoop van almal, weg van die lewe,

maagd vol genade,

vra en smeek van jou seun

dat hy aan jou dienaars

nou vreugde sal gee. Amen.

*Lukas 11:35, Profesie van Simeon

The translation of the English lyrics quoted here, has been taken from the booklet of Anonymous4’s album Four Centuries of Chant. More info about the album can be found here at Harmonia Mundi or here at thegroup’s website.

More information about “Stabat iuxta Christi crucem”, John Browne and the Eton Choirbook can befound here.

Page from the Peterborough Psalter

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[1] This translation has been made from the English translation quoted here.

Worldbuilding Wednesday: The Wíslic and the Elders

I’ve been reviewing my old wolrdbuilding posts and stories a bit while working on a major part of Airthai’s history. So, before some more new fiction and worldbuilding next week, here is a look back at some of the other important women of Airthai – it’s not just the Rún whoplay a big role in the world.

Last week I had a look at the Houses of the Keepers of Airthai. This week I’ll tackle part of the hierarchy of the Keepers: the Wíslic and the Elders. The Keepers started on the eastern coast of the Continent, in the lands of the Saerímavolk; and it is with them that today’s post gets under way.

The Wíslic and Elders of the Saerímavolk

Because most of the men of the Saerímavolk towns would leave the land each day for the sea, one of the women of the town would be chosen to act as the leader of the town. She was well-skilled in various kinds of knowledge; including the laws of her people and the ways of healing. Called the Wíslic, she would see to it that the town is run well, disputes are settled and trading is fair.

Various others – usually older than forty – would be chosen to help her in her work and provide schooling for the children of the town. These people were called the Elders and consisted of both men and women. Because the men were ‘married to the sea’ they were mostly called upon in these matters, while the women handled the land disputes and matters. Some even referred to them as ‘Sea Elders’ and ‘Land Elders’.

The most gifted of the girls were tutored further and then, of these young women, seven were chosen. Later one of the seven would be chosen as Wíslic by the people of the town. Although the daughter of a Wíslic may also become a Wíslic, this was not a strict tradition and had to be earned.

The Wíslic and the Elders of the Keepers

The hierarchy of the Keepers worked in much the same way as that of the Saerímavolk, as the Keepers were modeled on this hierarchy when it was started.  The Wíslic of a House, however, could also be a man. The Wíslic was chosen from among the Healers and the Scholars most of the time.

The Elders of the Keepers were chosen because of their level of knowledge or skill. Although most were older in years, some had been given the rank at a young age. One of the most notable Elders was the scholar and scribe Nëane, a Ciph from Ellanda.  He was sixteen years old when he joined the Keepers and only twenty-one years old when made an Elder.

Ameragh was also very young and was made Wíslic of the House of Eamidtheo before her thirtieth birthday; making her the youngest Wíslic of a House of Keepers. 

The youngest Wíslic of a House of Keepers

Inspiration for a Monday – Of Many Worlds in This World

I came across this lovely poem while searching for another (yes, I got sidetracked a little) and thought it very appropriate for Hersenskim.

Of Many Worlds in This World

Just like as in a nest of boxes round,

degrees of sizes in each box are found:

So, in this world, may many others be

Thinner and less, and less still by degree:

Although they are not subject to our sense,

A world may be no bigger than two-pence,

Nature is curious, and such works may shape,

Which our dull senses easily escape:

For creatures, small as atoms, may be there,

If every one a creature’s figure bear.

If atoms four, a world can make, then see

What several worlds might in an ear-ring be:

For, millions of those atoms may be in

The head of one small, little, single pin.

And if thus small, then ladies may well wear

A world of worlds, as pendents in each ear.

Written in 1668 by Margaret Cavendish (1623 – 1673)

Quoted from TheNorton Anthology of Poetry, Fourth Edition.

Margaret Cavendish

Find out more about Margaret Cavendish here.

From the Archive – Smoke, Mirrors and Herbs

To read the first part of these worldbuilding posts, click here. 


The Rún (Part 2) – How the healing cloths work

Last week I explained the Talent the Rún of Airthai has been given. Unlike the Ahma who has to be either in close proximity or touch a person to be able to heal them[1]; the Rún can be far away from their healing cloths, but the cloths will still work. This is because they are able to bestow some of their healing talent into the embroidery itself. Putting this cloth on someone in need of healing will cause the healing power to drain from the cloth.

The embroideries

The embroideries of the Rún consist out of depictions of certain plants as well as their own alphabet and language. This ‘secret’ language is taught orally only to the Rún and – even when written down – it is written in this language. These books are also kept only in the House of Rún and Holt Haliern to make sure that they do not fall into the wrong hands. Young Rún, while being taught the language, will make sampler cloths to more easily learn the language, learn to transfer meaning and learn to transfer their talent.

Each cloth is first embroidered with the suitable plants or parts of plants, for example flowers, seeds or roots. Next a healing or other prayer may be worked between the flowers. The floss with which the embroideries are made are all coloured by hand by Rún. Some of the Rún may spend all their time dyeing the threads with specific plants, while others only embroider – this depends wholly on their specific Talent.

The Fakes

There are some who copy the Rún style of embroidery while they are not Rún. These cloths are often sold as love charms, binding spells and even curses. While most of these cloths are complete fakes, some are made by Vídolf and can be truly dangerous.

WIPs

A couple of days ago, I mentioned on Twitter that I am busy with a short story. At the moment I’m using the working title “Here but for Grace” and it was one of those ideas that hits you square in the brain and you have to write it down as soon as you can. Building the layers and fleshing out the story, however, needs more research that picking my brain for the right files about mirrors and folklore (which is at the back of the cabinet, covered with some cobwebs and maybe even a lost spider spinning stories in her webs). So, I headed off for a trek across the room to one of the bookcases. I grabbed my trusty Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable and the Penguin Reference Dictionary of Symbols. But, as I am also busy with worldbuilding the Rún, I also grabbed one of the books dealing with herbs and traditional cures[2]…

Blackberries by the artist Helen M. Stevens

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[1] Those of the Ahma given the Talent to heal, that is.

[2] Yes, I really enjoy building my own reference library, ranging from the dictionaries I use in general work and translations to archaeological fieldwork and the trees of the Highveld. Which may also explain why some of the files in my brain gets misplaced every once in a while!