Appendix

 

 

My Pilgrimage

 

 

Several months after going through The Mythic Path, I found the need to write myself a pilgrimage to deal with my heartache and destroyed belief in romantic love.  I started with a eulogy.  As you might guess, all of these were done before I realized I was a narcissistic enabler.

 

 

Eulogy for a Princess
January 4th, 2000

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Confession

 

Yes.  I killed her.

I had no choice.  Had I let her live, she would have destroyed both of us.  She was a part of me I could not heal.

So, I walked into the castle.  The guards knew me to be its true mistress and let me by with only a nod.  Despite the warm sun outside, it was still chilly and damp in there.  With my bundle under my arm, I went to her room.

I found her crumbled on the bed.  Her eyes looked as if sleep was a distant memory.  Her hair tumbled into her face.  Her body shook as she tried to sit up.  I laid my bundle on the bed and helped her up.  She buried her head in my shoulder and sobbed.  I held her as I had many of times before.

"It's no use," she said. "I can never be well."

"I know," I said softly.

"I still want to believe so badly, yet I know I can never believe again."

"I know."

"Was it so wrong for me to believe in the first place?"

I do not answer her.  I do not know the answer.  Instead I let go and pull out a rose colored gown.

"I thought you would look pretty in it," I said as I hold it up for her to see.

She stared at it with hollow eyes and sighed.  I helped her into it.  Then I sat her in front of the vanity and began to brush her hair.

"It is pretty," she said examining the bodice in the mirror, "but it won't change anything."

"I wasn't expecting it to."

"Nothing you have done to heal me has worked."

I closed my eyes and sighed.  "I know."

Her voice cracks.  "I can't stand the pain anymore!"

I put down the brush and go back to the bundle.  I pulled out a glass vial.

"What is that?" she asked.

"The only thing I could think of that will work now," I answered.

"Nothing else has worked."

"This will," I said softly.

She didn't believe me, but she drank it anyway.  I began to brush her hair again.

"I do feel different," she said quietly.

"That's good," I said.  "It means it's working."

She slumped over.  I caught her before she fell to the floor.  You see, I loved her dearly.  If I could not save her mind and heart, I would not let her body be damaged.  I picked her up in my arms and carried her to the castle's chapel.  I laid her on the altar and commanded the guards to bring moss roses to cover it.  I carefully arrange everything.

She was still so beautiful.  I knelt at her side and I cried for her and her dreams.  I cried until the early morning hours.  A guard helped me to my room and I slept until the sun was high in the heavens.  I bathed, dressed and ate.  I walked into the chapel once more time, kissed her forehead and spoke her eulogy.  Then I walked out into the main hall and past the front doors, pausing only to nod back to the guards.  I knew they would protect her corpse.

With the pain gone, the sunshine lifted my heart and I found myself humming, despite my loss.  Then I had a mischievous thought or vengeful or an evil one.  Or maybe it was just a sense of justice.  This world was mine to command.  I pulled my cloak over my head, pulled out a gnarled wooden cane and walked stooped, taking on the appearance of an old woman.  I walk to the crossroads where I came across a Don Quixote type of knight.  I greeted him with a raspy voice.

When he told me he was looking for a princess, I shook my head sadly and said, "It is a shame.  You are too late.  There was a princess in the castle behind me, but she was in too much pain and they had to put her out of her misery."

He was shocked. "How could anyone do such a thing?"

"We had no choice.  Her pain was too great."

"What could cause such pain?" he asked.

"Someone broke her heart beyond repair," I said.

His face became grim.  "I will avenge this princess!" he said.

"If you must," I said, "then go to the castle and tell the guards that Ylana the witch sent you."  I chose to use the name of a character of mine than my own, even though my story Ylana was a young woman of striking beauty.  "They can take you to her body.  And if you wish to know who did this to her, then take the right hall and look into the brass mirror hanging on the wall.  It will show you his identity."

The knight, assuming I was talking of a magic mirror, went ahead and rode off.  I continued walking along the road, humming happily to myself.  Then I walked over a bridge and asked a man in a field if he knew of some place where an old woman could get a warm meal and a dry bed.  He was a bit surly, but when I answered him with cheerfulness, he lightened up and told me about an inn down the road.  Then he tossed me a coin and told me to eat well.

Chuckling to myself, I traveled down the road and found the inn described to me by the farmer.  It was evening when I got there.  The innkeeper was just coming out of the taproom as I entered.

"Excuse me, sir!" I said.  "I was told that an old woman might be able to find a good meal and a soft bed here!"

His tired eyes regarded me warily.  I smiled as I pulled out the coin I was given along with some coins of my own and offered them to him.

"I didn't say I wanted it for free," I grinned.

He laughed.  "Then pick out a table for yourself and I'll have something brought out immediately!"

I chose a spot against the wall, where I could watch the other diners.  Soon a hearty meal was set before me.  I inhaled the wonderful aroma and savored each bite.  As I ate, other patrons began to fill the dining hall.  A man came up to me.

"Mind if I sit with you?" he asked.

"No! Of course not!" I answered, scooting over to give him room.  A server quickly set another plate of food in front him.  He took a bite and closed his eyes.

"No wonder this place is so popular," he said.  "This food is delicious."

"Indeed it is," I said. "Indeed it is."

"So, are you from around here?" he asked.

"No, just passing through. And yourself?"

"The same as you.  Thought is was about time I saw the world for myself.  How about you?"

"I'm on a pilgrimage of sorts.  I feel the need to cleanse my soul."

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment.  "Hmmm," he said at last, "a pilgrimage to where?"

"I understand there is a valley far from here, where water bursts pure and sweet from solid stone.  It is said that this fountain blesses anyone who drinks from it."

"Sounds like a place worth seeing.  Maybe I should go with you."

"That is your choice.  Why do you want to see the world?"

He shrugged. "I feel there is something missing in my life.  I couldn't find it back home, so I thought I would go looking for it."

"Then you are already on a pilgrimage," I said.

"I guess I am."

"Tell me more about yourself," I entreated.

His name was Byron and we spent the rest of the evening chatting about his home and childhood.  I shared a little of my own past, but I didn't mention my poor little princess.  Afterwards, the innkeeper showed us to our rooms.  My sleep was deep and untroubled for the first time in ages.

I awoke the next morning with the rising sun.  I opened the window to welcome the coming day.  Quickly, I washed my face and changed my clothes, invigorated by the chilly morning air.  There was a bounce in my step as I descended the stairs.  The innkeeper looked at me strangely as I wished him a good morning.

"You look much younger this morning," he said.

I laughed.  "It must be your wonderful hospitality," I told him.  "I feel like a new woman."

He nodded slowly.  "Well, breakfast is waiting in the dining hall.  Your friend from last night is waiting for you."

I found Byron at the same table we were at the night before.  His eyes went wide as he stood to greet me.

"You're the first woman I've met who actually looks better in bright light," he said.

I just laughed and sat down to eat.  Perhaps I should have kept up my old woman visage, but I had no real need for it.  I ate my breakfast with gusto.  Afterwards, Byron and I purchased some provisions from the innkeeper and stepped out into the morning sun.

"So, which way are you headed?" he asked.

I pointed eastward.  We began walking.

"I don't need to have company," I told him.  He shrugged.

"It's not like I have a destination," he said. "I might as well walk with you for awhile.  As you said, it's my choice."

I nodded and we spent the morning quietly walking.  Around noontime, we made ourselves comfortable under an old willow and nibbled on some lunch.

"You're a strange person," Byron said as he sipped from his waterskin.

"How so?" I asked.

"You're extremely cheerful most of the time, but every so often a sense of great sadness emanates from you."

"As I have told you, I feel the need to cleanse my soul."

"And," he continues, "you keeping looking younger as time passes."

"Well, that should stabilize soon," I told him.  "I'm becoming myself again."

"Did someone put a spell on you?"

I laughed.  "You might say that."

"The same person who put you on this pilgrimage?"

"Yes."

"And who was this person?"

I kept my smile to myself.  "Some people call her Ylana the witch."

His face darkens for a moment.  "I would like to deal with this Ylana someday."

I burst out laughing.  "Oh, please! Don't do that! She's one of my dearest friends!"

"What type of friend makes you look like an old woman?"

"One who knows what I really need and loves me enough to help me obtain it.  Not everything is what it seems."

He stands up and brushes himself off.  "True.  Shall we continue?"

"Of course!"

I stand up and was brushing myself off, when a pillar of blue smoke appeared before me.  From within its depths, was revealed a man who bore a very strong resemblance to the knight I sent to the castle.  Byron reacted to protect me, but I stopped him.

"Well, if it isn't the good Doctor Faustus?" I sneered. "And how is Quixote doing?"

"It was a terrible thing you did to him," he growled. "And if you are going to call me 'Faust', then I name you 'Dulcinea'.  It fits you better than 'Ylana'.  You have become a bitter woman, mia carmina."

"I had, but I am better now."

"I doubt it.  You have killed the most beautiful part of yourself.  The part I loved the most."

I laughed in derision.

"Love? Is that what you call it?" I chided.  "It is the illusion you loved, Faust - nothing more.  You want the rest of the world to be envious of you and nothing but perfection will do for you.  Or at least your concept of perfection.  You know nothing of true beauty - only popularity and fame and that is the Mephistopheles you have sold your soul to."

"I treasure the beauty of the soul above all else," he insisted.

"So you say, but to quote one of your favorite characters, 'Talk is cheap.  Whisky costs money.'  Your actions speak of other beliefs, Faust.  Maybe Quixote does believe that in earnest.  That is possible.  That I can believe.  Unfortunately, he is connected to you and you I cannot stand."

"He loved you even when you were at your worst, Dulcinea, and then you tried to destroy him."

"I didn't want to, but you were too much of a coward to face what you did yourself.  And he was the only way I could get at you."

"And that is why you killed my little Gretchen?" he asked.

"I killed her because unlike you, I loved her too much to leave her in pain."  I clenched my fists in anger and continued in a mocking voice, "I'm sorry I deprived you of the touching scene of you returning when it is too late to save her, and she forgiving you of all your sins just before she fades from life.  I guess you will have to cleanse your own soul now."

"You are a heartless wench, Dulcinea."

"Yes, Faust, believe that.  Believe that a slow torturous death is kinder than a quick and painless one.  Believe that there is something noble in deceit and betrayal.  Believe that love and dedication is only a convenience to be discarded as soon as it becomes uncomfortable.  Believe whatever you want, Faust, I don't give a damn anymore."

I turned away.  I had nothing more to say to him.  Byron looked at me with a concerned, yet thoughtful expression.

"This matter isn't closed, Dulcinea," said Faust.  "I will yet make you see the error of your bitterness."

"Go and continue your chase of fame, Faust. Tell Mephistopheles I said 'hi'."

He disappeared in another column of blue smoke, as I let out a deep breath.  My hands shook.  Byron cleared his throat.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," I said biting back my tears.

He tried to lay his hand on my arm, but I jerked away.

"No," I told him. "I am weak at the moment and I do stupid things when I am weak.  How do you think I got involved with Faust in the first place?"

I turned my attention back to the road and made my steps firm.  Byron kept up with me.

"The name you gave me last night?"

"Was my real one," I admitted.  "I use to treasure honesty above all things, but that was before I realized how hard the truth was."

"Yet, you still search for it," he pointed out.

I laughed.

"Call it an obsession.  I am as susceptible as anyone else to them.  Just as I am as foolish enough to fall in love with a fantasy.  Some call it being human."

We walked in silence for awhile.  A city came into view before us.

"What do you think you will receive from this spring you seek?" he asked.

"Peace," I told him.  "That is the only thing I truly crave right now. Plain and simple peace."

We walked to the city.

 

The city bustled around us as we dodged the carts and carriages.  Byron spotted an inn to our left and we sought refuge there.  He ordered beverages for both of us.

"Busy place," he observed.

"Indeed," I answered.

We were silent for several minutes as we watched the people pour in and out of the establishment.  Two gentlemen introduced themselves and joined us.  They talked about a momentous endeavor they were undertaking - a feat of engineering that would last through the ages and be an inspiration for generations to come.  Byron's eyes took on a sparkle as he listened to their grand design.  Later, he leaned over to me.

"I'm going to join them," he said. "I have always wanted to part of something important - something that would change the course of history."

"So, you have finally found what you have been looking for?" I asked.

"Yes, I think I have."

"Then go in peace," I told him.

"What about you?" he asked. "Don't you want to be a part of this?"

"It is tempting, I admit, but what I truly want is to conquer the turmoil of my own soul and find peace."

"I understand," he said. "Or at least, I think I do."

I smiled at him as I stood up.

"Good luck, Byron.  May it be everything you hope it to be."

"And I wish you the same," he said.

I tossed a few coins on the table and purchased some food before I left the inn.  It was only and hour or so until dusk and I wanted to be back on the open road when it hit.  I found the main road east and pursued it with determination.

As I made my way through the crowded streets, I caught a glimpse of the grand endeavor Byron had decided to work on.  Its gleaming superstructure glittered in the evening sun.  I found a spot to observe it from and contemplated its purpose.  "To inspire", they had said.  But for what purpose was this inspiration?  To achieve the grand?  To make a mark on this world?  Were these actually useful things?  To do one's best?  That I could see use in.  To aspire to beauty and greatness - I could almost justify the effort.

To achieve one's dreams . . .

Perhaps it was a worthy endeavor, after all.  But still it was not one I wanted to be a part of.  I rejoined the milling mob and fought my way to the other side of the city - surrounded, but very alone.  As I reached the outer gate, fear griped me.  I did not want to stay in the city, but the concerned looks on the guards' faces, made me nervous of the open road.

To be surrounded by strangers or solitude? Which was actually safer?

I decided to stick with my original decision and marched out of the city. I would let fate prove my wisdom.  I walked quickly to put as much space as possible between myself and the city.  As the sun began to set, I looked about me for a suitable place to sleep.  Ahead of me was a large tree that looked inviting.  I made it my goal.

It was already dark when I reached the tree.  I made a bed of leaves under its widespread branches and curled up within my cloak.  I slept soundly, but awoke cold and stiff.

As I tried to convince my body to wake up, I noticed the most fulfilling smell in the air.  I walk around and discovered it came from the tree.  Intrigued, I climbed into it.  The scent seemed to bid me to climb higher, so I did.  Halfway up, I found a woven section of branches, just the right size to hold me.  I crawled into it as the morning sun's warmth seeped into my bones.  Before I knew it, I had fallen back to sleep.

When I awoke again, it was past noon and something was stroking my hair.  I turned and faced a rather funny looking creature that resembled either a lemur or a raccoon - or perhaps a bit of both.  It stared at me with unblinking eyes and reached for my hair again.  I sat up.

"Hello," I said.

I didn't get as much as a squeak or a growl.  It seemed completely focused on my hair.  I stared at it.  It didn't seem dangerous to me.  It reached for my hair again

Curious, I leaned closer and let the creature touch my hair.  It stroked my hair softly for a little while, then it nuzzled it face in it.  When I pulled away, it clung to me.  I patted its back while I tried to figure out the fascination it had with my tresses.  Finally, my stomach growled and I decided I needed to find something to eat.  I began to climb down.

The creature was oblivious to my descent until I reached the lowest limbs.  Then it frantically began screeching and tried to pull me back into the tree.  I disentangled myself from it and pushed it away.  It screamed at me as I sprinted back to the road.  I saw a farmhouse up ahead and ran to it.

I pumped my arms and ran as fast as I could to the farmhouse.  The creature stayed in his tree.  Still, I felt I needed to put as much space between us as possible.  I was gasping as I reached the front porch.  A man opened the door and watched me.

"Ran from the creature, didn't you?" he observed.  I nodded.  He opened the door and said, "Come in."

He had me sit down on an old worn couch and called out to his wife.  She brought me a tall glass of lemonade and pulled a chair over close to me to sit in.

"There, there," she said. "You're safe now.  He can't get you here.  He's afraid of Josh."

"Well," I admitted, "he really didn't cause me any harm.  He just scared me."

The woman shook her head.  "You can never really be sure about the creature.  He's a clever one.  He will do almost anything to get what he wants."

"And what does he want?"

She didn't answer.  Instead she glanced at the tree and stood up.

"It's almost evening," she said.  "I better fix us dinner.  You're probably famished."

I watched as she left the room and then turned to look back out the window, wondering what the creature fed on if he never left the tree.  A very unpleasant idea occurred to me and I turned away, sickened.  The man came back in with my pack in his hand.

"Excuse me," I said, "but does the creature eat his victims?"

Josh gave me a serious look.

"Some of them, but not the ones like you."

"What would he had done to me?"

"Probably try to make you into one of his kind.  He is very lonely, but he wants more than just company."

"Oh," I said.

"We should go into the kitchen now. Mabel will have dinner ready soon."

Dinner was good, but I had trouble enjoying it with the tree still in sight.  Later on, I was led to the guestroom to sleep for the night.  As I snuggled into the covers, Mabel assured me that, though the creature did occasionally leave the tree at night, he would never come to the farm.  I feel asleep to the sound of crickets.

A few hours later, I was awakened by the sound of a window being opened.  Looking up, I saw that the creature was trying to get in.  With a screech, I jumped out of the bed and ran for the door.  Josh and Mabel met me there.  Josh went to get his pitchfork.  Several minutes later, he came back.

"Well, I chased him back to his tree," he said. "I don't think he'll bother us anymore tonight."

They went back to their room.  I sat in the guestroom and watched the window.  When the first rays of sunlight peeked across the horizon, I got dressed and went to the kitchen.  I left Mabel a very nice note and retrieved my pack.  Quietly, I snuck out of the house and continued my eastward journey.

It was mid morning when I came to the river.  I sighed as I examined the remains of the bridge that use to span it.  The water was a roaring torrent below.  I looked up and down the river to see if there was another place I could cross.  There was a trail going downstream.  Depending on the experience of others, I followed it.

The trail was heavily rutted and it wasn't long before I twisted my ankle and fell.  I bit my lip as I wrapped it.  Then carefully I stood up and brushed the dirt off my bruised body.  Hobbling, I continued to follow the trail.

Soon, the river widened and calmed itself.  The trail ended at a ferry pier.  The ferryman waved enthusiastically at me as he jumped off the pier to help me.  Sitting me on a barrel, he brushed a strand of hair away from my face and smiled.

"Has anyone told you how pretty you are?" he asked.

"It is not a subject that comes up often in conversation," I told him.

"Well, I think you're very pretty."

"Thank you.  Can we cross the river now?"

"Why do you want to cross?  It's very nice here and I could take care of you then."

"I need to continue my journey," I said.

"But you are hurt.  You shouldn't be walking on that ankle," he said.

"My ankle will heal.  I need to go on."

"Stay with me."

"Why?" I asked.

"I want a wife.  I am the only ferryman along this river without a family."

"What you are asking for is a marriage of convenience.  I could never be happy with that."

"I could make you happy.  I can take care of you and you can have children and we will be complete."

"And what would we talk about in evenings?" I asked.

He gave me a half smile.  "We won't need to talk," he said.

"And what about goals?  What about developing the skills and talents God gave us?"

"We will be a family.  That is the most important thing."

"I agree families are important, but there must be love and respect in them and an opportunity to cultivate the best in us."

"But you would be a wife and mother.  Isn't that what you want?"

"That, in itself, is not enough.  That and only that would destroy me.  This is something I know from experience.  I will not repeat it.  I want a companion, not a breadwinner.  And I want to be a companion, not a housewife.  The greatest gift I can give my children is to show them what a union between souls truly is.  That leaves out your proposal."

I stood up and turned away.  He grabbed my arm.

"You are hurt.  You cannot do this on your own."

"Perhaps not, but I can do it without you."

I wrenched my arm away and stepped carefully off the pier.  I decided to continue further downstream.  It was after midday, but finally I came across another ferryman and his family.  His wife beamed as she greeted me.

"Come!" she said. "Let us tend to your ankle before you cross."

"You are too kind," I said,

"Nonsense!  I like talking to new people."  She led my to their cottage.  Inside I found marvelous oil paintings everywhere.

"These are beautiful!" I told her.

"Thank you.  But be careful of that one on the easel.  It's not dry yet."

"You painted all of these?"

She smiled.  "Yes.  When they are finished, we go to the city in the south and sell them and my husband's wood carvings.  Then we buy more paints, canvases and exotic woods.  Our eldest tends the ferry while we're away."

"You are content with your life then."

"Oh, yes!  I have a wonderful family and I can paint.  I couldn't ask for more."

I smiled. "I am happy for you."

Her smile widened and she went to fetch a fresh bandage for my ankle.  Thanking her, I went to her husband and paid him the fare to cross the river.  Halfway across, I asked him, "Excuse me, but what is the best part of your marriage?"

He smiled.  "We're a team.  We do things together.  We talk.  We plan.  We work.  We create.  Even when we do separate activities, we are reaching for the same goal."

"Thank you.  Your words are a comfort to my soul."

"No problem," he said. "It was a pleasure."

On the other side of the river, he helped me onto the dry land and I thanked him again.  I hoped to find such happiness someday, but there was so much I must heal first.  I continued onward.

 

Still hobbling on my sprained ankle, I walked past fields and farms until I came to a little streamlet.  I sat on a large granite rock near it and soaked my ankle in its cool water.  In relief, I closed my eyes.

"Hello," said a female voice behind me.

I turned around to find a pleasant looking woman with a bright smile on her face.  I smiled weakly back.

"Hello," I said.

"How did you sprain your ankle?"

I started telling her about the trail with the ruts in it, and ended up telling her about my whole journey.  She listened and nodded.  Then when I finished she shook her head.

"You made a mistake with your princess," she said.

"I couldn't think of anything else to do.  I tried to heal her.  I tried to make her forget and go on with her life, but she keep holding onto a fantasy."

"You forgot the real reason she loved Faust in the first place."

"He made her feel special and then deserted her," I stated.

She shook her head again.  "That was just a peripheral thing.  She loved him because he encouraged to in her efforts to be the person she truly wanted to be.  That was what she loved.  Not the pretty words.  Not the fantasy.  That's why your efforts didn't work.  You were confused on what you needed to replace."

I sat there and let the woman's words seep into my mind.  I realized she was right about my princess.  That was why she - we loved him in first place.  I sighed.

"But there is no hope there," I told the woman. "It would never work."

"Probably not, but most likely there is someone else out there who would believe in you and your dreams.  Someone willing to share their dreams with you.  There is no need to settle for a creature or that ferryman.  You are not alone.  There will always be someone further down the river willing to help without forcing you into captivity."

"I see your point."

"So, what have you learned on this journey?" she asked.

"I have learned that what I truly want in life is to develop my talents as a writer.  To show my children how to be happy in spite of other people's actions.  And to someday find someone who will be an equal partner and encourage me to be the best that I can be."

"You have had a fruitful journey then."

"But it will not bring my princess back."

"But this will."  The woman pulled some ferns away from a rock spurting water.  In amazement, I knelt and rubbed my hand across it.  The rock was solid.  There were no holes.  The water continued to flow from it, as if it was a piece of cloth.  I looked up at the woman.

"But I thought this stream was much farther away than this," I said.

"The journey is different for everyone.  Take some of this water and give it to your princess.  It will revive her, just as it has healed your ankle."

I looked down and saw that she was right.  In tears, I thank the keeper of the spring and fill my waterskin with the precious fluid.

She smiled and led me around the trees surrounding the spring.  There stood a dappled gray mare, saddled and waiting.  I thanked her again and mounted.  In no time, I was back at the pier, waiting for the second ferryman and his wife.  They greeted me warmly and their children petted my horse.  Bidding them a fond farewell, I rode back to the road I had been traveling, carefully avoiding the first ferryman and the rutted trail.  I think he called something out to me as a sped on, but it might had been the wind.  By evening, I was back at Josh and Mabel's.  I was going to go onto the city, but they insisted I stay the night.

This time I bedded down in the stable with my horse.  Nothing disturbed me that night.  After breakfast, I rode back to the city.  I regarded the Great Endeavor again.  From its height, I caught sight of a man waving at me.  It was Byron.  I waved back.  Though it was hard to tell for sure, I felt he was happy.  I rode on.

 

By lunchtime, I was back at the inn.  The grooms gave my horse and good rub down and walked her, while I ate my meal.  It took the innkeeper a few moments to realize who I was.  He smiled and shook his head in disbelief as he refilled my drink.  My horse was fed well, too.

Soon, I was back in my own lands.  I let my horse trot as I took in the scenery around me.  It was good to be home.  The guards looked up at me in surprise as I approached the castle gate.  I dismounted my horse, removed my waterskin and ran inside.

The chapel was just as I had left it, except her skin had a grayish cast to it.  I knelt next to her and poured the spring water slowly into her mouth, being careful not to waste a single drop of it.  By the time I finished, the guards and staff surrounded me, all watching me intently as the color returned to her skin.

I sat back.  She looked better, but there was no intake of breath - no beating of a heart.

"She needs CPR," said one the guards.  I nodded and began to administer it to her.  After a few repetitions, she coughed.  We helped her into a sitting position and held her up.  When I was certain she could breath on her own, I had her taken to her room and tucked her into bed.  Then I went to my own room and slept.

The sun shined brightly into my room the next morning.  I put on a dressing gown and went to check on my princess.  She gave me a weak smile, but was no longer in pain.  I sat down next to her.

"How do you feel now?" I asked.

"Much better, thank you," she said. "That potion you gave me did work."

I gave a deep sigh.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

I told her what I had actually done.  She listened without comment as I told her about my pilgrimage and the lessons I had learned on it.  She laid her hand on mine.

"You did what you felt had to be done.  What's more, you actually succeeded."

I chuckled. "Yes, I did.  In spite of myself, I actually did succeed."

"That's the way life is sometimes," she said.

"So, are you ready to become a part of me again?" I asked.

She nodded. "Just promise me one thing."

"And what is that?"

"That you let Quixote know that I am alive again."

I rolled my eyes to the heavens.  "Hear me out," she continued.  "He deserves to know, even if he's not interested in hearing from us."

"And how do you plan to achieve this miracle?"

"A thistle seed will tell him.  Do you promise to let me have my way on this?"

"All right," I said, "I promise."

She stood up and I faced her.  We put our palms together and closed our eyes.  When our eyes opened, we were one single being.  I took a deep breath and went outside to where a large thistle plant stood, its seeds like little airy balls, waiting to take flight.  I took another deep breath.

"Bear this message, seeds of thistle, to one who rode this way a few days past: 'Go your way in peace.  She lives again, but she is no longer what she once was.  Worry not for her sake.' "

Then, with a breath, I send the seeds into the air and watch as they float away.

 

 

There is a lot of symbolism in this piece and here is my explanation of it:

 

Main Character/Ylana/Dulcinea

A woman striving to find peace and balance in her fractured life.  She is bitter and angry with herself.  She believes that she has been a fool.

 

Princess/Gretchen

The princess is the main character's belief and faith in love, which has taken a serious wound.

 

The Castle

The main character's soul.  The conflict is within her.

 

The Gown

A burial dress.  Even in her bitter state, the main character respects the beauty of her princess and wishes to preserve it.

 

The Poisoning

A non-violent act of death.  It might be interesting to note that the Greek word for death originally meant "separation".

 

Don Quixote/Doctor Faust

A man, very much like the main character herself, trying to choose between the forces and desires in his own life.  He was once a very dear friend to the main character and disappeared for reasons that can only be guessed at.

 

Man in the Field

Someone who only sees his labor until forced to see otherwise.  He's a decent sort, but a bit cranky when he's interrupted.

 

The Innkeeper

A very busy person, who notices a great deal when he takes a pause in his busy life.  Enjoys people, but that enjoyment leaves little time for himself.

 

Byron

A fellow seeker.  His idealism is still intact, but he knows there is something missing in life - direction.

 

 

The Pilgrimage

The main character's desire to find closure and peace.

 

The City

The World.  The Rat Race.  The rest of humanity.

 

The Two Men

Dreamers or visionaries.  People who seek to make a mark on the world that others would see as noble.

 

The Great Endeavor

Humanity's attempt to justify itself in its own eyes.

 

The Tree

Inadequate place of shelter.  Gives more of a psychological comfort than actual comfort.

 

The Creature

Someone who's main goal is physical gratification and wants to make the main character into something similar.  Misery wants company.  Whether or not he wants more, as Josh thinks, is debatable.

 

Josh and Mabel

People who are more and willing to help after the fact, but do nothing to prevent the harm from coming in the first place.  They believe they are doing their duty to God and their fellow man, but have become addicted to their "noble" view of themselves.  There is a sense of empowerment when we can help someone else, but when we allow the harm to happen on a re-occurring basis, we are part of the problem.  It may be a form of Munchausen Syndrome, where people set up situations so they can appear to be heroic to gain praise and attention.

 

The River

A major obstacle in the main character's life.  The traditional way of overcoming this obstacle (the broken bridge) has failed.

 

The Trail

The general approach to the problem based more on panic than wisdom and forethought.  The ruts represent just that - ruts.  The tried and true isn't always the best.

The First Ferryman

Someone who wants a family to fit in or prove his virility.  Not really interested in a spiritual union, just the appearance of one.  Wants to be the one in control.  The main character has already lived a sham similar to this and has children of her own who, according to our sources, were camping with their cousins during this pilgrimage.

 

The Second Ferryman and His Family

An example of a good marriage, where husband and wife are equal partners.  Also people who help without ulterior motives.

 

The Woman

A wise person - keeper of the Spring of Peace and Healing.  The deeper, reflective part of the main character.

 

The Spring

Peace and healing.  A restorative of faith in one's self.

 

The Horse

A more effective way of traveling.  Freedom from guilt.

 

The Resurrection

The revival of faith and hope.

 

The Integration of Dulcinea and Gretchen

The act of accepting the disfranchised parts of one's self.

 

The Thistle

A desire to communicate when there is no way to effectively do so.  Thistle seeds are larger than most floating seeds and would hopefully be able to travel a further distance.