Othala

Yggdrasil gaped at the man in disbelief. “You are going to teach me runes?”

The man before him chuckled, “Yes, yes. You are ready now, child.”

The boy looked about him frantically. He was in the cottage of the village elder. The man had practically hoisted him off his feet and carried him there, upon his mother exchanging some words about his troubling dreams and strange experiences. Books in strange tongues were strewn about in stacks by his feet, and vines that emitted a dimly flickering light breathed amongst them. All the room was full of plants, and all of them seemed to sway and simmer where they slept.

Candlelight danced on the face of the bearded old man, Balfor. His large, round nose crested the hood of his cloak, leaving a shadow that often made it easy to forget he had eyes. Occasionally they would glow with the fervor of the stories he would tell. Beneath his nose was a waterfall of magnificently silver hair, which was as long as any could try to picture. He took to stuffing his beard in his cloak, so none really knew how long it was.

Balfor placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder, shaking him back to himself. “You have nothing to fear. Mmm?” He leaned back to remove a pouch from his pocket and held it out in his hand. It was purple with gold tassels. It unwound itself and opened, some green embers floating out of it. They crackled and disappeared. “Take one.”

Yggdrasil tentatively reached into the pouch and felt around. They were stones of some sort. One felt most comfortable in his hand, so he pulled it, a polished, jet-black stone, out of the pouch. As soon as he did, a great shock coursed through his arm from the stone, erupting in a bright green flash. The boy yelled, pulling his arm back. The stone landed unnaturally still on the table, and a glowing green shape appeared on it.

“Othala,” The old man rasped. “This is the rune of family. Your blood is the same blood that ran through men of this land centuries ago. Remember the lives you have lived, and the path you have cleared, for your life to exist here and now.” He got a bit more sincere. “This is a pleasant mirror.” He pulled the boy’s hand closer and examined it. Symbols appeared on his palm. The boy didn’t recognize most of them, but Balfor pointed to one that could only have been the moon. “You are a Gemini in the Mother’s eyes,” he said. “It is easy for you to declare the source of all your troubles to be your blood.”

The boy looked away, figuring that his mother must have slipped in some comments on his disobedience to Balfor. He was always getting into trouble.

“Here is a solution to this direction of energy. Othala rules over the Moon in the sign of Gemini. Use it to direct that energy to what you want. Simply cast it in a given space and hold the emotionality of your focus within your heart. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Balfor wielded a stone, seemingly plucked from the air, and it became illuminated with a deafening crack. Embers seemed to burn the very air, etching the symbol of Othala with flaring green and gold light to float before them. It felt alive, an intense eternal stare, as if its entire appearance was a holographic eyeball that pierced their very souls. There was a pinch in Yggdrasil’s mind, an overwhelming grinding of gears, as all thoughts that had ever crossed his mind came to sing in unison. The mental gates had been opened.

Balfor widened his eyes. “Now I focus all of my mind and body upon the symbol, activating it and speaking intention into it, feeding it along the channel I have just opened.” He raised one hand, which still had the stone in it, and began to affirm, “I use the power of overthinking and multi-faceted perception for the benefit of myself and others only. I use observation to calm the storm of the mind, and I call it to find solace in my passions rather than my fears. I am creative, rather than self-destructive. I affirm this in the name of the Mother and Father of the Universe. Thank you Great Spirit. Aho.”

The symbol in the air faded, crackling out of its illumination and into a gentle hiss. It sounded like an exhalation now, from an imperceptible mouth that was all around them. Yggdrasil’s mind was unhinged, but was also still and at peace. He saw all possibilities, and in this he saw how it was easy to be carried away by one’s mind… especially once such immense mental doorways have been opened. There was a feeling, though, that left him feeling naked and unprotected. Balfor seemed to feel it too, for he began to stand from his chair and motioned to the boy. Yggdrasil’s eyes were closed, but he saw the old man beckon to him. He stood up as well, with confidence but nevertheless afraid.

“You have opened your receptivity to the voices of the Universe,” said Balfor. “Now, you must reconnect with a Guardian.”

“A…a Guardian?”

“Yes, my child. All initiates have a protective spirit watching over them. These spirits guide you on your journey, ward off evil, and even fight for you. They clothe you in a fabric of energy that yields you untouchable to all that is not in your favor.”

Yggdrasil gulped. He acknowledged that he felt no such presence now. “How do I connect? How do I know who it is?”

“Because you have met them before, at least 4 times in your life. Do you remember?”

Yggdrasil thought for a long moment, but no profound memories arose. He shook his head in shame, feeling as though he had failed at something.

Balfour nodded. “Not to worry. Perhaps this shall refresh your noggin.” He raised both his hands above his head, making a triangle with his thumbs and forefingers, and he called in a shrill tone, which rose through the ceiling in musical notes of green and pastel purple.

It didn’t take long for the call to be answered. First there was a thud that could be felt in the heart, and two brilliant golden eyes snapped open inside Yggdrasil’s mind. They gazed into his, and they felt familiar. At this moment he knew. A smile erupted across the boy’s face, as enormous talons erupted through the roof. Wood splintered across the room, and an avalanche of the cloudy daylight and heaps of snow descended to the floor and table.

A massive barn owl gracefully touched down on the table beside the bag of runes. The boy fell back from the power of the owl’s wings. Balfor remained standing strong, crossing his arms and laughing heartily. The owl lovingly nibbled at the old man’s hood.

Yggdrasil brushed himself off and approached the magnificent bird. “I remember you. You’ve saved my life before. Once on the bridge when my mother was too cold to walk anymore… she had collapsed… and you carried us home. I…I thought it was a dream.”

“She has been there more times than you know,” said Balfor. “I trust you have seen her inner eyes?” Yggdrasil nodded. “That is your form of communication. Eye contact often is the most revealing and honest way to speak to anyone. With your Guardian, you have the ability to always look into each other’s eyes, even when you are far apart on this Earth.”

The boy could only gaze in wonder, at both the man and the giant bird before him. She allowed him to stroke her feathers by her neck and shoulder. She rustled herself and hooted. He looked back at Balfor. “Thank you.”

“No, no, young boy. Thank you.” The boy motioned to leave. The old man picked up the bag of runes and threw them at the boy, who barely caught them to his chest. “There will be a time when I call upon you again, and we will continue discussing the nature of your magick. For now, explore it yourself. This bird will watch over you and keep you safe.”

Yggdrasil nodded with a smile and grasped for the door handle.

“Oh, no no, I think not,” chuckled Balfor.

“What? I – waaAAAHH! Balfor!” The boy protested as the barn owl swooped down and grabbed him with her talons, and shot with great speed through the hole in the roof, sending the contents of the room flying every which way. Balfor stood there looking up at the roof, laughing to himself merrily. He watched them until they were a speck amongst the snowy clouds. When they were out of sight, he sighed with satisfaction and turned to the room, flicked back the sleeves of his cloak, and began to twiddle his fingers to have the room put itself back together around him.