* * *
The sweet, pungent smell of evergreen mixing with the musty odor of woodland decay filled Ishtar’s nostrils as she awoke on the hillock where she had earlier watched the display of grand armies pass her by. Countless twinkling stars filled the night sky, providing the little light by which the girl could see. Was it the same night, or the next, or were a thousand passed by? This the girl did not know, but she was hungry and curious, a sure combination to get the child up on her feet to go in search of food while doing a little exploring.
As she neared the bottom of the mossy slope, Ishtar noticed the wide plain was overgrown with low bushes, shrubs, and wiry grasses. This was no land that multitudinous armies recently marched across. For sure, such a place would be trampled at the least. But here were endless fields of thorny berry bushes, brier patches, mustard and lace weed mixed with countless varieties of wild summer flowers, and tangles of vine-covered scrub trees. Just how long had the girl slept?
In the world of dreams, a lifetime can be lived in moments, but Ishtar did not realize this was a dream. At the girl’s present level of cognition, the thought of vision or reality was not comprehended. She saw, felt, heard, wondered… and, and realized all the other wonderful things a child of her youth and upbringing would realize, and for her that was an important enough matter. What she was currently experiencing was already wondrous without pondering whether this world was reality or fantasy. After all, coupled with her body’s own excited congruence of physio-psychic melding, there were other fingers dabbling with their telepathic intrigues.
Ishtar’s journey, starting with a walk down the moss-covered hillock of this fantasy world, and ending far in the future with the woman-child standing upon Memphis’ high battlements, was just beginning. The stage was set, the players soon to be introduced, but now the girl must decide the trail she was to take. The first of Destiny’s clues for that were soon to be revealed in haunting and mysterious ways.
Mossy fingers reached into the overgrown thickets that appeared to stretch far beyond the ever-darkness. That same moss soaked up the starlight so that it illuminated the area in a phosphorescent glow. A ghostly-white mist drifted across the fields, it catching up that mystical glow as it silently flowed across those twisting rivers of iridescent green. Not only were Ishtar’s eyes attracted to this delightful scene, but countless numbers of dancing fireflies also gathered together above the glowing lichens.
Choosing the path Ishtar was to take was an easy matter, her fiery companions revealing deliciously huge berries hanging from tall thorny bushes, just what was needed for a hungry palate. Though only a smattering of berries grew close enough to the trail to be gathered without being scratched by the long, barbed thorns on the fruited vines, the girl was delighted to see the trail was lined with the luscious, sweet fruit. Off she went at a skip, stopping to scoop up a berry or two here and there, gingerly making her way along from one tiny cluster of the titillating delights to another.
Does time exist when one is lost in a patch of the sweetest, most luscious berries ever tasted? Why, does time even exist in a dream? Whatever might be the case, Ishtar gave no consideration to time as she diligently scrounged for berries in the thorny thickets growing along her mossy trail. Further and further down the twisting path the girl journeyed until, looking back, aghast, she saw the hillock of glowing moss was now little more than a tiny rise in a deep ocean of blackness. The inviting, misty glow from the many other mossy trails and the multitude of dancing fireflies were missing from the dark shadowy fields. Now the only mossy luminescence remaining led off toward the immense woodland, the spires of its tall, majestic trees standing out forebodingly black against the twinkling night sky.
Ishtar never wandered the woods at night. Why, she had never gone out alone at night before in her life. What was she to do, hunker down here until daylight came, or… but wait, what if daylight never came to this world? What if this was a land of ever-darkness?
Ishtar looked down the path toward the distant forest. There were still many berries to be seen in the glow of the night, and her tongue was still set to enjoy more of those fruity delights. Besides, the child was a curious soul, more so than most. She would go a little further for now, to satisfy that insatiable sweet tooth of hers in the least, and to discover what lay around the next bend. Maybe then she would decide what to do, maybe. As her feet set a cautious pace, hundreds of the glowing bugs danced in the air about her, filling the night sky with their colorful lights of limitless hues.
The girl was soon so absorbed in gathering the tasty fruits she failed to notice that the briery hedges were growing in height and immensity about her. When she finally awoke to the matter, why, there the trail was now very narrow with occasional thorny vines sweeping into it. A chill air, carrying with it the feel of growing resentment, slowly crept in through the briery hedges crowding close to the path.
Soon all the light was faded away except for an eerie, bluish glow that surrounded the girl. Wait! Ishtar gasped. The light was not surrounding her, but was radiating out from her. She was aglow, the source of all light in this place, that is except for a few of the firelight bugs that still flitted about her.
Deciding to retrace her steps in hopes of finding a different, friendlier, path, Ishtar walked smack into a tangle of briers blocking the trail. In amazement she stared, watching as the few remaining open spaces of the road behind were filling in with brier-covered, hoary vines. As their fingers reached ever outward in tangled masses, there arose around the girl an angry, hissing noise. Stepping backward, Ishtar realized the angry hissing sound surrounded her, it coming from anywhere and everywhere. The remaining fireflies suddenly darted into the night sky, scattering in every direction.
That’s the trouble with dreams - you never can trust them. Deceptive they are, filling your head with delightful musical fantasies one second and chilling the heart with bone-numbing terror the next. A dream is fickle, playing to its own desires. Bad enough it is when a sleeping mind opens random doors in hidden places to haunt dreaming moments. But when other hands play games within? Oh, the trouble that brews!
Ishtar had eaten berries to the point of bursting. A nap was in order, something she had been earlier considering, but now it appeared a much better idea to hurry along toward the forest, seeing something was amiss here. As Ishtar pushed along through a thickening thorny hedge, the ever-growing hissing was turning into chanting evil words that the distraught girl understood. “Greedy it is. It is! Eats all our children, it does. It Does! Eats them all. Now we eats it. Eats it!” Again the chant was repeated, this time accompanied by sinister laughter that whistled upon a delicate breeze.
Doubtful concern grew into fearful insight, and then into abject terror. Ishtar broke into a run, attempting to escape the suffocating briers that whipped out from the hedge in an effort to trip or catch her up. Torn and bleeding, the girl ran on, paying no never-mind to her stinging, hurting injuries.
As tired legs ever hurried her onward, Ishtar could feel the trail closing in behind, the chanting cries of the thorny bushes gaining in strength as the other shrubs, vines, and wild grasses allied themselves to this cause and joined in the maniacal chorus.
With panting breath and burning lungs, the torn and bedraggled woman-child continued her flight toward the deep woods. No longer foreboding to look upon, she yearned for their protection, never once considering that they, too, might be allies with the field folk. In the dark, forested wood there might reside untold dangers, but here the threat to life was certain. Better it was to trust to the unknown than to perish in the certain.
As her strength was waning, Ishtar stumbled upon the last barrier hurriedly being erected to stop her escape. Mistletoe was quickly weaving itself about tall brambles, blocking the path. Only a few lonely paces beyond that blockade lay the deep wood and hoped for safety. Shouting a cry of desperation, Ishtar charged into the thicket, struggling and
fighting with all her might to break through. With one final grunting heave, the last of the vines snapped, freeing the girl to make a run for it, the enraged scrubland flora desperately charging after her, they quickly catching up.
Just when all hope was lost, two long spindly limbs reached down and caught the girl up and away to the forest. Outside the wood, the bushy vines, scrub trees, and every other sort of the wild plant people ranted on, dismayed over their loss. The tall forest people angrily retorted, “Go away or we shall send forth the driven wind against you!” At that, a howling could be heard, growing deep in the forest. The plant people, cursing foul oaths against their woodland neighbors, slouched away into the darkness and back to the safety of the fields beyond.
After the plant people had retreated a reasonable distance, the giant tree gently set Ishtar down on a wide, well-worn path that wound its way further into the forest. Although hurting from her many cuts and bruises, the girl bowed low to thank the majestic tree for providing her rescue.
The soft needles of the giant hemlock shook as the tree person unemotionally answered, “I care not good or ill for you or any other walking creature. It is the wild field person I detest, always attempting to overgrow my kindred with weed and vine, smothering those poor souls who live on the edge of my world. If you are an enemy of theirs, then you must be a friend of mine, at least for the moment.”
The aged hemlock then warned, “Not all my kindred may feel the same toward you as I. Many are those who live deep in the wood that have not witnessed the glorious light of day or felt the open breeze upon their boughs. They are very jealous of any creation walking on two or four legs, for their very roots refuse them freedom. Stubborn, you know. Unable to move about like you, they become bitter because their universe is very, very, small. Old they are, yes, old beyond your reckoning, but angry still because you are so unlike them. Their ways you do not understand, but your ways they do not want to know at all. They seek not to gain an understanding with you should they call out for a moot, but to do you mischief is their desire.”
The tree gave the girl a gentle push. “Stay on the road you chose so long ago. See it to the end. Do not deviate from it. I, the old sage of this woodland, have weathered countless storms, but have also basked many days in the warmth of the sun. You are but a sprout, young to the world around you. Many storms must you endure, the possible threat of the woodman’s axe occasioned often. Do not give in to the folly of your youth when those and other dangers block your path. Like the field people who rise to glory when the summer is high, but fade to stubble when the winter tempest blows, your trials will not last but a season and then they will be forgotten.”
Ishtar thanked the ancient tree, and then took to the path. The old hemlock called after her with its final bit of council. “A sprout does not grow into a giant tree in a day… or two. Many long years, ages, it does take. Ancient you will one day become, that is assured, but do not be in a hurry to reach it. Learn your lessons well, for many are the forest people who will need your wisdom in those future times.”
The forest path was smooth and wide, but it twisted, bent, and rolled its way here and there across the forest floor. The dampness of the world beneath the wide tangle of evergreen, oak, ash, maple and hickory made the road cool and at times slippery. Occasionally Ishtar would find herself dropping down and down into some steep ravine only to have to claw her way up the other side, and then over some high, forested peak, only to plunge down again into the darkness far below.
The deeper into the kingdom of the forest people the girl went, the more subdued her own glowing light became until she found herself walking along more by sense than by sight. As her radiant power diminished, the more pressing the forest became. Although feeling no direct hostility, there was a powerful sense of growing unwelcome coming from the surrounding wooded giants. Whispering voices muttered in disquiet, “We do not want it here. Ruin us all, it will. Naked it is, with no fur of leaves to cover its limbs, no roots to hold its feet secure in times of distress, no knowledge of our life and ways. Surely it will bring unwanted change to our peaceful world.”
“Stay to the trail.” The aged hemlock had warned, and Ishtar dutifully obeyed. It was a good thing, too. Many a tree would attempt to dissuade her from the path by placing their knurly roots across it in attempts to trip her up. Other aged tree people, usually the oaks or weathered maples, would call out, asking for her to step aside and have a friendly chat with them, seeing she could tell them about the world far beyond their wooded kingdom.
In time, the twisting trail gradually fell away into the blackness of a deep, craggy draw. As Ishtar felt her way along a steep rock face, she listened to the enchanting music of a tiny, bubbling brook, its water lapping at the girl’s feet. Eventually, the canyon narrowed to the point where its two rock faces were little more than three short cubits wide. Ishtar was forced to splash through the stream, keeping her balance by feeling her way along the chasm’s high walls. Soon the canyon gradually closed over her until she was making her way through a cave as its ceiling slowly crept lower and lower until the girl was squirming along through a frightfully low, narrow tunnel.
Waters Ishtar once splashed along were rapidly becoming deep to the point of the child being convinced she was soon going to drown. At the last moment, when her nose was pressing the roof of the tunnel to find a breath of air, the tunnel opened into a small grotto. Too deep to walk, Ishtar began to swim, seeking to find an exit. After all, the path had delivered her here. It must continue on in some way. After swimming about for endless hours -in a dream unpleasant events often seem endless - Ishtar finally decided that the trail must be out and up through a subterranean opening. Taking a deep breath, she plunged beneath the chilly waters in search of it.
Down, down, down the child dove into the blackness in her daunting search for escape from this fathomless cavern. Little consideration did she give to the fact that a good swimmer she was not, and never had she swum deep below the water’s surface, and the need for air to refill tired lungs did not enter her mind. Soon she could not tell the direction she was swimming, - up, down or sideways. When despair was beginning to seep into her heart, the blackness gave way to the tiniest of glowing lights far off in the distance. With renewed energy and sweeping strokes, she hurried onward into the deep abyss.
Soon forgotten was any search of escape from this watery world of chilling cold and total blackness. Ishtar was now in pursuit of a flickering golden light that appeared to be retreating at her approach. Driving heart and muscles to their limit, she struggled to catch up to this strange light, wondering not if she might find escape by it, but more out of curiosity as to what it was. Dangerous though it might be, she thought naught of those perils, seeking only the discovery of what might be creating that light.
Her persistence eventually paid off, the girl smiling, satisfied. There was not one golden glowing light, but many - an entire tightly packed school of tiny fishes all aflame in brilliant light, swimming this way and that. Surprised, Ishtar was to realize they were not fleeing her. Why, they paid her no heed at all! The tiny fish completely ignored her as they hurried ever forward on some unexplained journey or quest. Ishtar decided to follow them to see where they were going.
On and on the tiny fishes swam, ever on. Now, other less inquisitive children might have given up the chase and swum to the surface and returned to the outer world by the way they came, there to go in search anew for the trail they were to take. Ishtar was a determined soul, and most curious. Impossible it was now for her to surrender the chase. For good or ill, she must continue on her quest to discover what these little creatures were searching for. Still, it was such a long time they swam that even Ishtar began tiring of the chase.
Soon Ishtar’s mind was wandering, it thinking about other matters to the point of the girl nearly forgetting about the fishes all together, that is, until she noticed the fishes glow reflecting of
f a rough-hewn rock face far down in these watery depths. Excitedly, she swam close up to the fishes, following behind while sliding her hand along the slippery stone. She silently mused at how comforting it felt to be touching something solid in this seemingly endless ocean of water.
Suddenly, without warning, the school of tiny glowing fishes disappeared, leaving Ishtar again in the total darkness of that deep abyss. Fighting down her growing panic, she swam along the rock wall, her hands continually skimming its face. As her hope began to fade, the rock wall suddenly fell away into a depression of sorts. Peering in the direction that the wall fell away, she again saw the golden light of the tiny fishes, but now they appeared to be far down a small passage leading away from the cavern.
Giving no consideration to her safety, or whether this tunnel might just go down into another deeper and even bigger cavernous ocean, Ishtar kicked hard to enter the small opening, and began pulling herself along by her hands in hopes of catching up with the fishes.
Soon the passage narrowed, and then it narrowed still more to the point the girl was forced to turn sideways, squeezed between the tunnel’s two opposing walls. Kicking and pulling with all her might, she slowly made her way along until the child was unable to move forward, or return to the blackness behind. With panic rising in her breast, she pushed with every last bit of her strength to escape her possible tomb. Finally, with one great heave, she tore herself free, the jagged passage wall ripping at her flesh.
Bleeding and bruised, the child eventually escaped that terrifying place and emerged into a watery world filled with radiant lights of dancing blues and greens. With great surprise and relief, Ishtar found that she was breaking the surface of another cavernous lake, this one lit up by beautiful crystal stones hanging down from the cave’s high, vaulted ceiling.
This intoxicating feeling of fresh air filling her lungs made Ishtar almost giddy. Oh, this was such delightful place, the waters warm, the air clean and sweet smelling. In a few moments, she had swum to a smooth, flat outcropping of rock that jutted away from the cavern wall, quickly climbed on to it, and was stretched out resting. What a relief to be out of the water!
How long she lay there luxuriating in sleepy repose, Ishtar did not know. This was an ever-world of colorful lights. Time stood still here, with only the occasional drip of mineral water falling from one of the bluish-green crystals high up in the ceiling. So what? It felt good to be here, safe, you might say. Maybe she could stay here a while, rest up, you know, and then go on, after she had thought about it a bit.
A sudden disturbance across the waters alerted Ishtar to another’s presence. Her heart filling with apprehension, she peered off in the direction from where the noise was coming. In time the girl saw an ugly, hairy, beast-man slowly emerge from a shadowy cave across from where she sat on the edge of the lake. In his hands, he carried a heavy iron pot, and in a shoulder pouch, a bundle of wood.
‘This must be a troll!’ Ishtar excitedly thought...well, at least what a troll should look like, she never having seen one. Afraid to move a muscle, the girl silently sat there staring at the scary troll.
Setting the wood down, the troll took the pot and dipped it into the lake, and after starting a fire with the wood, placed the water-filled pot upon it. A smile grew on his face as the flames rose up around the pot, the water setting up a merry boil. The troll broke into a happy little hum and once again walked toward the edge of the lake. Bending low, he picked up a heavy black line tied to a large rock. “Whoa, now!” He laughed as the weight on the other end of the line nearly toppled him into the water. Regaining his balance, he gave several long tugs on the line, eventually pulling a large, round basket-shaped object from the lake. With a satisfied harrumph, he turned and retreated to the blaze.
Nearing the fire, the troll lifted the basket up, pulled the slip-rope away and with both hands spread wide the opening in its top. Smacking his lips, he stared down into the basket, starting again his happy little hum. Filled with curiosity, Ishtar leaned forward, squinting, in an attempt to see what might be hidden inside the object the troll was holding.
Standing over the boiling pot, the troll turned the basket over, letting out a happy cry, “Oh, come to the feast and fill me up. Stew and broth, I’ll drink you down!” He laughed, dumping the basket’s contents into the bubbling pot.
Ishtar let out a gasp as she watched dozens of tiny golden fishes tumble from the basket into the steaming water. The fishes, her fishes, the tiny little glimmering lights she had followed for so long were being tossed into the stew pot to make a meal for the troll!
If the hungry troll heard Ishtar, he made no indication of it. Taking a long wooden stick, he began stirring his stew, all the while singing some senseless carefree song about little fishes and other more tasty things in the waters below. After several long minutes, the troll stopped his singing, placed the stick down and, with both hands, picked up the bubbling pot, smacking his lips as he sucked in a breath. Then, tipping his head back while opening his mouth wide, the troll gulped down every last drop of the boiling stew.
When finished, the troll stooped to place the pot down beside the fire. Standing back up, he rubbed his belly, letting out a satisfied sigh. “‘Tis good. ‘Tis good. Will satisfy until I find another morsel sweeter still.” He looked over at Ishtar, grinning.
Startled, Ishtar threw her hands to her face as she involuntary recoiled at the troll’s grinning stare. The troll belched then, while rubbing a hand across his mouth, began to waddle toward the girl. In growing fear, Ishtar pushed herself back along the rocky outcropping until she collided with the cliff wall of the cave. Stopping at the water’s edge, the troll reached out an arm and began to wag a finger at her. Ishtar let out a cry of despair, uncertain of what might become of her.
Continuing to wag his finger, the troll laughed and called across the water to Ishtar. “Fear not this old fellow here, for I will not harm you.” He smacked his lips in hunger, running his eyes back and forth across Ishtar’s naked body. “Never have I harmed a soul, nor should you be afraid of me in any way.” He became silent, waiting to hear some reply, all the while continuing his hungry searching of the girl’s flesh.
Ishtar’s frightened mind was seeking to recall a similar place and time when another man stared hungrily at her. Try as she might, her heart refused to reveal that horrid moment, but it did confess that there was a difference between that time and this. The man’s hungry eyes from the past looked at her to satisfy some maculate craving, while the troll’s longing gaze appeared to be like that of a little child looking at a table filled with sweet cakes and candy.
Ishtar cried out, “You wish to eat me! Evil thing! Go away!”
The troll lowered his hands to his side, laughing. “Oh yes! Oh yes! You look very tasty, fat and very tasty.” He frowned. “But I would never harm you. No. No. Never harm you or anyone. Never have. Don’t need to.” At that, he slowly turned, making his way back to the fire. Throwing on the last of the wood, he sat down cross-legged, facing the blaze, beginning anew another little humming tune, while paying no more attention to the girl.
Ishtar was petrified. What was she to do? The girl did not know where she was or where she was to go. The little fishes that helped her get here were no more, unable to offer her any guiding light. For endless hours - or was it days or years? - she pondered timidly what was next to be done. All the while, the troll quietly sat, staring into the crackling blaze.
When it finally occurred to Ishtar that the troll was no longer paying her any attention, curiosity got the better of her. Leaning forward, she called out, asking, “You say you aren’t going to harm me, but yet you wish to eat me. Who comes to do your dastardly work of assaulting me so that you may accomplish your ends?”
Slowly turning his head until their eyes met, the old troll frowned innocently. “Oh, my tasty morsel, no one comes to harm you. No one at all…don’t need to.”
/> “What do you mean?!” Ishtar cried. “I’m your prisoner here with no escape. You have stolen my guiding light, my little fishes, eaten them, you have…”
The troll vehemently shook his head to the contrary. “You are not my prisoner! And I am no thief. Honestly I came by those fishes, having called them to my net.” He glared accusingly. “You have eaten little fishes before. Yes, you have! Your father obtained them from the men at the wharf, or tossed in a net himself to gather them up from foaming waters. If I am a thief for catching little fishes, then you must be, too!”
Ishtar stared aghast. “You knew my father?!”
The troll returned to peering into the blaze. “I know, have known or will know everyone. No one escapes my gaze. Yes, yes, he passed this way once. Everyone passes this way. But he didn’t look all that tasty, or at least I didn’t get to find out if he was or not. Went his way, he did, off on some other adventure, left me here to await another lonely sojourner.”
“Which way did he go? How did he escape from here?” Ishtar asked excitedly.
Turning to Ishtar again, the troll raised an eyebrow. “Oh, out…”
“Where? How? How did my father escape?!” Ishtar persisted.
The troll wrinkled up his face. “He did not escape! He was not held captive here!” He fussed. “I have told you too much already. Not fair. Not fair at all. The others were not snoops like you. I said out. Out! Not like the others who obliged me so.”
Becoming frustrated, Ishtar retorted, “You speak like the senseless old women of my city, a chatterer - chatterer with nothing useful to say.”
Angered, the troll stood, glaring, clenching his fists. “I am not a chatterer! Riddler, yes, riddler I am.”
Ishtar stood, fuming. “Well then, riddler, riddle me this: You say no one comes to harm me, yet you intend to eat me! Who then harms me so that you may feast upon my flesh?!”
The troll grinned wide and, after the longest of times, answered, “You do...”
Ishtar gasped, holding a hand to her mouth.
Shaking a finger at her, the troll scolded, “You are a brash one, you are. Bold of tongue and quick of mouth...but foolish or wise, I do not know. I will speak to you in straight and riddling ways. You must figure out which is which. But first, please step up and search the crystal waters to see we are not as alone as you think.”
Curious, Ishtar slowly advanced toward the edge of the outcropping, all the time expecting to be caught up in some devious trick. Upon reaching the water, she stopped, waiting.
“Look down.” The troll called across to her. “Look down into the depths of this blue-green sea.”
Cautiously, Ishtar cast her eyes down into the sparkling pool. The water was still like glass and just as clear, so beautiful, the tranquil colors and shimmering rock formations under its surface. So restful and peaceful, so inviting, the girl sighed with a desire to refresh her body in a slow, leisurely swim. Her eyes drifted on down to the bottom of the glimmering pool. When her mind recognized what her eyes were now beholding, she recoiled in horror, nearly falling as she bolted backward.
The old troll’s eyes met Ishtar’s as he slowly nodded, smiling.
The girl shrieked, “You lied! You lied! Thousands they are! Must be! The bones of thousands I see scattered in piles. Murderer! Murderer!”
The troll angrily shot back, “Murderer I am not! Did not harm those tasty souls! Murdered themselves they did, they did.”
Ishtar shook her head, crying, “Yes, you are! Tricksy murderer you are!”
The troll cried back, “Am not!”
Ishtar paused in thought, finally cocking her head. “If you are not, then tell me where I am, who you are, and how to leave this place.”
Laughing, the troll rocked back on his heels. “Spirited one she is, but is she spirited enough?” He then rocked forward, extending a hand. “As I have said, I will tell you all there is to know in straight talk and riddles, but you must figure out which is which. Then decide you must.”
Looking into the water and waving a hand across it, he added, “They all chose. Little good it did them.” Then looking at Ishtar, smugly observed, “And good, I doubt, it will do you, either.”
Putting his hands behind his back, the troll began to pace about in front of the fire. Holding his head high, while occasionally casting a glance toward his next anticipated meal, he began to pontificate as only creatures of his kind can pontificate. “Now then, let me answer a few of your rather mundane questions.”
He cleared his throat. “The little fishes that led you to this place are called ‘blind credulity fishes’, because they have no eyes to see with, but they do have sensitive ears. These fishes will follow heedlessly the whimsical tune of a lyre, will travel from great distances in search of that musical lilt that promises them hope, maybe for a meal, security, a better life...I don’t really know.”
“They shine a false light, for it offers no security to those following them. Oh, yes!” He nodded with glee. “Many a foolish folk have followed them to these caves. I guess for no better reason than they have no purpose of their own in life, and seeing the fishes are so pretty and bright, assume good things will come to them if they only follow them along.” He stopped, facing Ishtar, and laughed while extending his hands wide. “Then I eat up all the little fishes, and the poor souls who aimlessly followed them with a false hope become so forlorn.”
He turned and resumed his pacing. “Not all who come here have followed the blind credulity fishes, no. There are many other fishes lurking deep in the waters beyond this lake, and they have minds of their own, tricksy they are, not nice to those lost souls who follow them along. Bring them here on purpose, they do.”
“And then…” He pointed up toward the high, vaulted ceiling. “There are others who fall into here, maybe because something bad and unexpected happened to them. Yes, that was how your father came here. Not his fault at all. Didn’t follow pretty fishes like his foolish child did. Nope, had some kind of accident, he did, and wound up here, all forlorn over what he was going to do. Had a family, you know.” He looked at Ishtar, smiling. “Of course you know. How silly of me…” He laughed.
“Now let’s see…” The troll paused in thought. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. “Where are you? You have pestered me with that one. Well, my delightful morsel, you are in the Land of Uncertainty.”
Ishtar wrinkled up her face, questioning, “Land of Uncertainty?!”
Waving a hand high as he continued to pace, the troll answered, “Yes. Yes, the Land of Uncertainty, and I am its lord, caretaker – manager, you might say. The Lord of Uncertainty… I sort of like that name. I take care of things here, welcome all its newcomers, and tidy up a bit when needs be.” He smacked his lips.
Crying out accusatively, Ishtar exclaimed, “You hold me prisoner in the Land of Uncertainty! How am I to escape? Yet, if my father managed, then I must, too.”
Angrily frowning, the troll shook a finger at the girl. “I do not hold you here as prisoner! You hold yourself! There is no need for escape from here! Leave when you wish.” He looked around, smiling. “It’s actually quite nice a place, I do believe. Spirited you are, but foolish, don’t listen...don’t listen at all. I am no thief, nor do I hold anyone prisoner, nor do I harm anyone. If you accuse me of those things again, I will leave and you can try to figure things out for yourself!” He grinned and smacked his lips once more.
“No! No!” Ishtar wailed, frantically waving her hands. “I’ll be good! I’ll be a good girl, quiet as you demand, and… and… I promise not to speak rudely again.” She sat down and pleaded, “Please go on, please! I’ll listen intently.”
The troll scowled, his hopes of a tasty meal slowly fading. “She’s quicker of wit than we anticipated, maybe smarter, too.” He sighed and shrugged. “I promised her. Whatever else is there for it? Must keep my promise…” Rubbing an ever-h
ungry belly, he laughed. “We’ll see. We’ll see. Now, then! Be on with it!”
After chancing another glance at the girl, he cast his eyes downward and began to pace anew. “As I said, this is the Land of Uncertainty. All the peoples of all the worlds will one day pass through this world, or have passed. Many take their leisure here, never leaving this place. You see, uncertainty suits them well for no decisions are they forced to make in the Land of Uncertainty. They just lean back on that stone slab there, the one you are sitting on, and wait for my cousins, the Fates, to decide their future.”
He tipped his head back, laughing in derision. “The Fates! Oh yes, the Fates. There are three of them you know: Laziness, Mindlessness, and Timidity.”
“Laziness waits upon those who lack ambition of heart, body or mind. ‘Let us drink and party the day away, and when night comes, let us do the same’. Whatever work done is only done to satisfy momentary desire. There is no thought given to the future, just the day, the hour…” he hissed, “the minute…”
Lifting a hand high, he declared, “The lazy ones often fall into a sound sleep on the very stone you’re on, eventually to roll off into the waters and drown, or come to their doom when the floods slowly steal their perch from them, they waking too late to their approaching demise. Down they go to the depths below.” Looking longingly into the waters, he smacked his lips.
Repulsed at the thought of this monster stripping the flesh from the bones of those unfortunates, Ishtar nearly let out a shout of condemnation, catching herself up at the last second by placing a hand over her mouth.
Looking over at the girl, the troll shrugged innocently. “We are only cleaning up the waters. Someone has to. Besides, they’re not my kindred, not my kind. I’m no cannibal. Do you call the bugs, worms, or birds that find a carcass, whether it be of yours or some other kind, a cannibal? No. They’re just doing what they were designed to do, clean things up a bit, so that the world doesn’t become befouled and sickly. True, these lost souls are tasty, but still, I’m only doing my job. Is it wrong to like your job?”
Ishtar said nothing, sickening dread filling her heart as she haltingly shook her head ‘no’ in troubled answer to the troll’s last question.
He clapped his hands, singing merrily, “Yes! Yes! You agree with us! Yes! Yes!”
Then turning away and putting on a more scholarly tone, the troll continued. “Anyway, they blame the Fates, you know, always do. Never blame themselves for being lazy, never do.”
He tapped the side of his head in thought. “Now let me see, where were we? Hmmm...” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, yes. Now we get to the mindless ones. Hee, hee…”
“Mindlessness is my closest companion and greatest ally. There are so many, just like you, who like to follow pretty things, paying no never mind to where they may be going, or what might happen to them. They mindlessly follow along behind anyone offering them a little guidance – light, you might say – sort a’ the blind leading the blind, if you catch my drift. Hee, hee, catch, you know.”
The troll swept his arm about. “They end up here just like you. Then they get all muddled up, havin’ ta think, I mean. Unlike those who are too lazy to think at all, these ones start to think on their own too fast...not used to it, you know. They begin to panic, seeking some form of escape. Like I said, no one’s a prisoner here, no need to escape, gotta think that one out.”
“Anyway, since none of them ever thought on their own before, it’s too much work to begin now, other than how are they going to make escape. Hee, hee, no need for escape… Soon down they go into the depths far below, seeking the one passage that will deliver them from this place, the Land of Uncertainty.” He shook his head, frowning in mock sadness. “Soon they’re off in a rush. Down they go far into the deep and drown,” he smacked his lips, “or they’re off to see my brother, the Lord of Despair.”
Ishtar bolted upright. “The Lord of Despair?! I have heard of him, long ago when I was but a babe.”
Grinning, the troll nodded, “Yes. Yes. The fellow is well known among your kind.” Then he frowned, “Most dreaded, too. Not a nice person like me. The Lord of Despair sings such a merry tune to ensnare his captives. Then he eats them down whole, alive, reveling in their outcries and pleas for mercy. He, my tasty child, is someone you should wish never to meet.”
Ishtar exclaimed, “Oh, but I have met him, once at least. He is not nice, nice at all. Makes your head spin with fear and dread, turns you upside down!”
The troll raised a questioning eyebrow. “She says we have met the Lord of Despair, and yet she arrives here alive and in good health, and unknowing of this world. Strange that is, very strange… We must watch this morsel more closely.”
He raised a finger high, shaking it. “Yep, soon as those folks see they’re in trouble, they call out to my cousin, Mindlessness, blaming him for all their woes and troubles. Poor Mindlessness, all he did was permit them a door to walk through, didn’t have to go, they didn’t, but blame poor ol’ Mindlessness anyway, saying they had no control over matters - that he made them do it.”
“Finally we get to Timidity.” The troll beamed as he told about this fated cousin. “Timidity has learned to make sport of the ones he leads into these underworlds. Timidity seeks out people who are indecisive and hesitant. Their kind are overly concerned about every little thing, so afraid to make a decision for fear it might well be the wrong one to make, which it usually is for that kind. When opportunity is set before them, they will wait until it is too late, wait to walk down a dark road for fear of the highwayman, wait to gather the eggs in case they might miss one, wait to love for fear of a broken heart. Wait and wait and wait - that is what the timid one does.”
“Sooo…” The troll rubbed his chin in thought. “Sooo…, when they arrive here, at my humble abode, they don’t know at all what to do. Oh, I speak to them, and speak to them, just like I am doing with you, but they don’t do anything for fearing it will be the wrong anything. Then, when the floodwaters rise, or the spiders come crawling, or the creepy things come visitin’, they’re all in a mad hurry, dive into the waters to make escape. Like I said, you’re not a prisoner here, don’t need to make escape.”
Pointing into the blue-green crystal ocean, he explained, “Off they go, this way and that, making rash decisions about how to leave this place. Either they drown because they forgot to catch a breath or two,” he smacked his lips again, “or they disappear into this or the other dark passage, paying no heed to where it might lead.”
Kicking a large piece of broken crystal into the water, the rippling wake reaching Ishtar’s shore with its gentle lapping, the troll bemoaned, “Anyway, yep, you guessed it, all them indecisive people blame Timidity for their sad lot. If the Fates were kinder to them, those bad things wouldn’t have happened. How sad. How sad. The Fates and Timidity off and put the screws to ‘em again.”
He suddenly slammed his fist into an opened hand. “Well, it ain’t the Fates’ fault! They were just accommodating those lazy, mindless, timid no-goods who refused to take responsibility for their own lives. There isn’t any Fate unless one wills it. They aren’t real, less someone wants ‘em to be. It’s just an excuse for lack of common sense and wisdom. Oh, yes, bad things happen that are beyond a body’s control, like lightning striking out of the blue, but that body had to place itself where it could be hit by the lightning to make it happen. Who’s to say the lightning wouldn’t have struck the same place anyway if ‘n no one had been there? None of us know.”
At that, the troll returned to the fire and sat down, facing it. “There. I’ve told you as much as you need to know, or as much as I’m willing to tell. Your father was smarter than you, didn’t take nowhere as long to figure out what needed to be done as you have, didn’t pester me with all those silly questions either.”
Ishtar stood, peering across the waters. “What of my mother? Has she come this wa
y also?”
The troll harrumphed. “Everyone comes this way at some time. Your mother passed through here long ago.”
“What of her?” Ishtar asked, concerned. “What became of her? Did she go out too, like my father?”
Folding his arms on his chest, the old troll harrumphed again, shaking his head. “I don’t do no family reunions! Your mother was here, stayed a long time… maybe.” He glanced toward the water. “I ain’t gonna tell you any more.” He stirred the dying fire with the unburned end of a little stick. “Stay as long as you like. Sort a’ quiet here most of the time anyway, nice place to rest up. No need to go on that journey of yours, only lots of trouble it will be, dangerous too.”
“What journey?” Ishtar quizzed. “Tell me of the journey if you know.”
The troll shot an angry glance over at the girl, rubbing his hungry stomach. “Ain’t no journey you need to know about. Stay here and rest up a bit, wait awhile in this place. It will grow on you. Soon you’ll like it here as much as I do.” He smacked his lips one more time.
“Tell me of my journey!” Ishtar demanded.
This did not set well at all with the troll. He waved her off and got up to leave. “Too nosy it is! Tires us out…” He trudged off, disgusted, disappearing into the cave from which he came.
Ishtar screamed out in frustration, clenching her fists, ordering the troll to return. Nothing, not one peep or sound came from the cave. Angry, the girl sat to pout. She didn’t want to be here, never wished to be. It wasn’t her fault that all those bad things had happened to her. And the journey? There must be other guiding hands placing her on their fated road. There was nothing else for the girl to do but to surrender to whatever the Fates had decided.
Ishtar’s head suddenly snapped up, eyes wide, her thoughts all a-twirl. What were the troll’s warnings? ‘They always blame the Fates for their laziness, mindlessness, and timidity. There are no Fates unless we will them, invent them, and allow them to take over our lives.’ Was she inventing the Fates in order to avoid responsibility for any actions taken, or not taken? Was the old troll right when he accused her of being no wiser than the others who mindlessly followed anything that glittered in the darkness? Was she too lazy to even seek a path of escape? Ishtar sat down, dismayed, burying her face in her hands, and wept. Soon the distraught child fell fast asleep.
Ishtar awoke to a sound like that of a gentle breeze drifting among the trees. She opened her eyes, half expecting to find herself in a grassy field somewhere far from where she had been. But, no, not at all! Indeed, the girl was still sitting on the exact spot where she had last seen the old troll. Then what was all the noise about? It had been very quiet before, with only an occasional echoing drip of water falling from the ceiling high above. What was it she was now hearing?
Glancing about the cavern, the girl quickly became aware of subtle changes taking place. The merry glow of the crystals appeared dimmer, gradually continuing to lose their brightness as she watched. The lake carried with it a murkiness, its waters slowly swirling about instead of their formerly becalmed nature. And the rock shelf that she sat upon did not appear to be sitting as high above the lapping waves as it earlier had. A gentle breeze caressed the girl’s cheek, its damp, stale odor reminding her of some dank cellar that one rarely enters. What was going on?
It suddenly occurred to her that air long hidden in deep, dark caverns was being pushed out of its former dwelling place, but by what, and how? The sight of bubbles escaping the surface of the once placid lake betrayed an ominous reality. Somewhere, other caves once filled with air were now flooding. Possibly rain storms in the world above had unleashed their torrential madness, delivering a flood to this subterranean world far below. Ishtar nearly shrieked in panic at the thought that this cavern might soon become a roiling, frothing, dark abyss.
Hopping up, Ishtar ran to the rock’s edge, staring down into the growing murk. What was she to do? Her first urge was to do something, anything. She didn’t intend to end up like the lazy souls who slowly drowned when floodwaters rose. With heart racing, she prepared to make her escape. As she took a step to dive from the rock, part of the troll’s warning riddle came to mind, crying, “They thought too fast! Too fast! Not used to thinking, they were. Thought too fast!”
The old troll had said she wasn’t smart like her father. Was she really mindless, didn’t think enough? Why, she never had to think before, there always being someone there to do the thinking for her. Now she stood alone upon the edge of the world with only her own thinking, reasoning, to guide her. It was mindless people who rushed off into the darkness by making rash decisions. They went too deep, or journeyed off mindlessly to end up at the doorstep of the Lord of Despair.
Ishtar wished not to play the fool, so decided to try to think things out. After all, there was still some time left for decision making. She could see far into the cloudy waters, and the stone upon which she stood remained dry for the moment. The point was time remained for her to attempt a wise decision, and then act on it accordingly.
“Let’s see…” She pondered aloud, tapping the side of her face in thought as she did. Looking across the way, the girl wondered if escape could be found by swimming over to the troll’s side and then making her way into the tunnel the troll disappeared through. She shook her head. “No. No. Doesn’t feel right… Maybe it ends in the troll’s lair, and I’ll wind up being his dinner.”
Looking at the growing turbulence of the lake, she wondered, ‘Too deep? Too deep? Did he mean that the mindless often over-thought, went too deep in their thinking when they finally started thinking? By seeking escape in the depths far below, a person might not look for more obvious ways to get out, or they might overreach and run out of air before securing their delivery.’
She frowned. ‘Or possibly the Lord of Despair lures those people into his evil den when the darkness of the depths below overwhelms them.’ The depths were no place she wanted to go. Possibly along the submerged rock face there was an opening, or, she shuddered, maybe there were many openings, not all providing safe exit.
Ishtar stepped back from the stone’s edge. What was she to do? A decision must be made, but what should it be, and who was here to help her? Decisions were never the girl’s forte. There had always been someone there to guide her, help her, tell her what she should do.
Her mind filled with foggy memories of when she was caught in Despair’s evil web, something about smashing a statue of sorts, but it had been such an easy decision to make. All she had to do then was the right thing. This felt so different. She needed to properly decipher the riddling clues given her and then act. The mind must sort things out properly, mustn’t be hasty. Think fast, but think things through.
Ishtar rubbed her chin in thought, finally pointing while speaking aloud. “All right, the passage out must be along that far rock face, because that was the direction the troll always glanced in when he spoke of my father going out.”
There was a sudden rush of frothing bubbles erupting on the surface of the water. The flood must be growing in power. Ishtar had to decide quickly. What if she was wrong? What if the troll was tricking with her, leading her to her doom? Fear grew in a desperate heart. The girl’s hands began shaking. What was she to do? Doomed, doomed, she was, just like all the others who trusted to the Fates instead of taking matters into their own hands and acting with determined resolve.
A sudden rush of foam exploded from the waters, drenching the girl and soaking the stone. Hopelessness enveloped her, she shrinking away from the rising water in desperate hope of finding a secure perch to wait out the flood. She reasoned maybe the rains above were not that great and the flood would die down soon. Or possibly there was a hidden passage on this side of the lake that she could use for flight, and flight it must soon be, or she, too, would become just another meal for the troll to feast upon.
“No!” Ishtar shout
ed in defiance, planting her feet where she stood. Her father was a brave man, born from a long line of brave men. The troll said he did not cower here, but took the contest to Adversity and defeated it. She was a child of his blood.
‘Come back carrying your shield, or on it.’ That was the motto of her father, learned from the Spartans and adopted by his company when he served in the Roman Legions. Well, she was no coward either, scared for sure, but not willing to surrender to what might appear a hopeless moment.
Ishtar stepped forward until her toes hung over the rock’s edge. Under the waters, far forward and off to the left, there must be a passage leading out of this place, and she was going to find it. At that, the girl pushed off from the outcropping, diving head first in the frothing waters.
Struggling in the turbulence of swirling bubbles mixed with litter scoured up from the bottom by the inrushing flood, Ishtar fought her way to the far end of the cavern. Clinging to the chiseled rock face, she looked about while catching her breath. Already the outcropping that had been home during her visit here was awash, it gone from sight in the fading light. Soon this world would be dark, leaving the girl to search for the passage, blind. She shuddered, remembering just how black these places could become.
Sucking in a giant breath, Ishtar dove below, along the rock face to find her way out. Down she swam until she reached the edge of light. In the ghostly shadows of the underworld, the girl began her search. At least the currents were not so violent, the water not quite as murky. Here, along this wall and away from the storm, the girl felt hopeful, her trepidation slowly subsiding. As dread fled from her, she could begin to think about the task at hand. She was finding that committing to this journey by leaving perceived security behind and diving headlong into the unknown had somehow given her the courage to continue the quest, and had sharpened her mind to handle the task at hand.
It soon became apparent the entire submerged cavern wall was riddled with passages large and small. Some gushed dirty, filled with debris washed down from the raging storms outside. Others washed warm over the girl’s naked body as she swam past the openings. She reasoned that those passages went down into the depths of the earth, to the realm of the Lord of Despair, or possibly worse, to the very heart of the fiery denizens of even greater evil far below.
Then there were the wide, calm passages leading off into placid darkness. How tempting to seek refuge in places seemingly safe from the turbulence of the excited ocean around her. More than once, the desire nearly overcame Ishtar to slip away into such peaceful repose. After all, there might well be many caverns that had not flooded, would not flood, and in one of these she might seek some respite from this gathering tumult until she had time to contemplate a decisive move.
Suddenly the words of the troll flashed through her mind. ‘The lazy do not think, but take their ease and go off to drown.’
Yes! These tunnels might well lead to off into comfort and safety, but more than likely they disappeared into black, empty abysses filled with fetid waters long void of life and hope. Off she swam, racing to the surface to recharge famished lungs. Returning again to the shadows, the girl began anew her search to depart from the Land of Uncertainty.
Diving past a submerged outcropping, Ishtar was suddenly swept into a swirling void filled with roiling masses of bubbles and debris. End over end she tumbled, slamming and crashing into the passage’s jagged walls as she was sucked through a violent, twisting vortex of flooding waters racing into the dark unknown.
While spinning helplessly along with this raging madness, the girl slammed into a rocky protrusion. Life-giving air forced its way past gritted teeth as the shock of the unexpected blow bruised ribs and collapsed tired lungs. Even though being knocked nearly senseless, the girl refused to surrender to certain destruction. In desperation, she clutched hold of the rocky protrusion, then slowly began to fight her way from this approaching certain doom.
When hope of escape was waning, aching lungs screaming for air, and fear of dying growing certain, the watery onslaught suddenly stopped. Before Ishtar could grasp what was happening, a violent rush of air bubbles came racing up from the cavern depths far below and caught the girl up in their angry excitement until the storm tossed her unceremoniously from the passage back into the open water and up to the frothing surface of the lake.
The pain of bruised ribs and torn flesh went unnoticed until the frantic ache of starving lungs was satisfied. Ishtar groaned in discomfort as she struggled to keep her head above the water. It was obvious that she had suffered many injuries from her recent misadventure, but there was no dry footing remaining in this growing flood to examine the damage. Besides that, time was running out. Not only was the flood growing in power, and the crystal lights losing their glory, Ishtar needed to find a way out before she succumbed to her injuries. The only thing remaining for her was another diving attempt to find a safe exit.
Again she filled her lungs with air and plunged back into the depths, her body crying out in agony as she fought her way down through the troubled sea. Although the pain from her many injuries was excruciating, the girl refused to surrender the moment. She was not going to become a meal for any troll, at least not here, not in the Land of Uncertainty! If she was to die, it would not be while timidly cowering in this abysmal ocean, but fighting her way to escape from it. And escape it now was, or be forever lost to this evil place.
Kicking hard against the agitated waters, Ishtar struggled into the depths that now reached beyond the fading light. Although not knowing the way of escape, she did understand well the different forms of entrapment. Gliding down through the dark, murky waters, the girl made sure to remain far enough away from the rock face so as to avoid being sucked into another deadly tunnel while at the same time remaining close enough to discover any possible opening leading her away from here.
The pursuit was not an easy one, so many being the tunnels and passages that appeared to offer delivery from this foreboding place. Some were filled with raging turbulence while others offered warmth and serenity from the growing tempest. Still others reached out to gather up the unwary and effortlessly deliver them to someplace far from here. Ishtar was now wise to the tricksy ways of this underworld, believing the troll used riddles to toy with the unfortunate souls ending up here. She was also beginning to believe that the Lord of Uncertainty might well have delivered the floods to entrap his victims, all the while professing his innocence regarding their demise.
Finding no safe exit, Ishtar swam further down into the growing darkness. Sight alone might well lead her astray. It could be so easy to mistake a dangerous passage for little more than harmless shadows. No! Trusting to sight alone was dangerous. ‘Think. Use your mind. Use all your senses.” Yes, that was what the girl must do - sharpen her senses, feel, listen, discern, taste. Taste? She laughed to herself thinking how foolish it was to believe that taste could gain her escape.
Her laughter suddenly stopped, she frowning with curious perplexity. It was dark down here, her thrashing hands little more than fleeting shadows. Sight was useless, and the surging waters, filled with frothing bubbles and filth, flowed cold and hot, confusing her other senses. Everything was directionless. Yet when the girl turned her head a certain way, she could sense a fresh taste in those waters. Somewhere near was a passage or opening delivering clean, unpolluted water - water that must be coming from outside, but not a product of the flooding downpour. Ishtar began to swim in the direction where the water tasted cleaner.
The girl laughed to herself. The troll revealed the secret of escape, not by what he spoke, but by his actions. Yes! Smacking his lips was the clue, always smacking his lips. Look for the tasty path, the path that tasted right, clean. By seeking answers from riddling words, one might only find solutions that satisfied the heart, the desires. But by tasting the universe around her, she could discover the reality, the safe passage away from this dismal world.
The
old fellow spoke winsome words to confuse the heart and befuddle the mind. When the reality sank in that the riddling words only misled his chosen victims, it was often too late to make escape. Yet, bound by the desire to remain forever innocent, the troll needed to confess the reality, the way out.
Escape? No, wait, the troll declared escape to be unnecessary. That meant the path was always open. A person only need use their common senses to find it. Sight alone, credulity, may well betray a trusting heart. As her father often said, ‘Little good are eyes that see only what the heart desires to see. And the darker the night and uncertain the journey, the more willing the heart is to believe whatever the eyes declare to be real.’ On the girl swam.
Ishtar soon discovered a rather large opening in the side of the cliff wall. Round it was, about four cubits across. Fresh and clean to the taste its purging waters were, and cool like that of late spring morning it was to the flesh. Again her father’s words came to mind. ‘You must taste the sunrise. It smacks of the joy of life.’ Was this the sunrise to a new life, a new beginning? Whether or not, the girl was confident that this was the way out of the Land of Uncertainty. Although tired, and with aching lungs, she entered the opening and began to fight her way against the current, pushing further and further into the black unknown.
It is a funny thing about dreams. A person can do such amazing things and yet never consider it odd or out of place. Ishtar’s lungs were aching to the bursting point, their need for fresh air excruciatingly clear, yet on and on the girl swam, ever fighting against the strong current in her search for release from this watery underworld.
Although Ishtar believed she had chosen wisely, the journey was not without its perils and dangers. Sharp bends and jagged obstructions often barred the girl’s path, causing new injuries, forcing her to search out her advance with outstretched hands, slowing her pace. And the total blackness played tricks on her mind, creating a world filled with dancing orbs of flashing whites, greens, blues, and haunting yellows. Then there were the screeching hoots and ghostly cries that echoed along the passage. Whether these noises were games played upon the ears or the wails of a distraught troll, it mattered little. Ishtar was determined to continue on and not allow anything to dissuade her.
Eventually the girl noticed a faint glow that appeared so very far away. At first she believed it to be another false vision of the mind, but when it did not fade, hope began to grow in the girl’s heart. No, indeed! The ghostly, golden glow slowly drew ever closer, or should it be said that Ishtar drew ever closer to the golden glow. All so quickly, she burst forth from the tunnel’s blackness into the shimmering light of a planter’s moon, its round, smiling face dancing in the sky above the surface of a huge, rippling pool. With her last bit of energy, Ishtar forced her way up from the depths far below, crying with joy after sucking in her first breath of life-sustaining air.
Ishtar’s joy was short-lived. Before she could ascertain where she was, two long arms swooped down and scooped the child up from the water. High up the shocked girl was lifted until she found herself staring into two huge gray eyes that looked out from a giant, weathered, beech tree. No, wait! It was a beech tree with eyes, and… and, also a mouth!
Pulling the girl close to have a better look, the old beech mused, “It is such a puny little thing, isn’t it? Oh well. It is as I expected.”
The beech grinned. “Welcome to my world. Been expecting you...”
Surprised by her own reply, Ishtar quizzed. “Expecting me? How did you know I was coming when I did not know it myself?”
Yep, dreams are such queer things. Talking trees we ignore while asking other silly questions.
The old beech smiled while slowly lowering Ishtar to the ground. As he released her, he looked down, answering, “Why, it was the saintly hemlock that called out to me, telling of your coming arrival.”
Looking up, Ishtar asked, wondering, “How did the hemlock know for certain that I would stay on the trail, or even survive my journey through the Land of Uncertainty? That is, if he knew of that land and its dangers?” Then she grumped. “And if he knew about the evil troll, why did he not warn me about him?”
The old beech answered, surprised, “Why, the kindly hemlock need not have warned you of a thing, nor did he have to save you from those weedy field people. A kindness he provided out of consideration for you, because you are a foolish thing, and careless also, may I add.”
Raising his eyes toward the moon, the beech confessed what he considered to be the obvious, but to the girl was so profound. “Land of Uncertainty? Old troll? Child, from the moment you awoke in my world, you have been in the Land of Uncertainty. Indeed, you have always lived in the Land of Uncertainty. Never will you escape it. As long as life exists, Uncertainty will always haunt the shadows.”
Lifting a bough, he continued, “The troll you speak of, the Lord of Uncertainty, tries not to hold you in his world, for his world always surrounds you. He seeks instead to paralyze you into inactivity, to make you useless to yourself and others.”
Gently sweeping his leafy branches through the girl’s hair, the beech explained, “Uncertainty is your ever-companion. The trail you took through the wood was one of your choosing. My dear friend, hemlock, warned you of the dangers that exist when you lose sight of the trail you are on. You may get lost in the forest and never find your way through. That is the desire of some of the aged trees in the forest. They know you will change their world and they will resist it - old wine skins and all that stuff.”
At that, the old beech removed from an upper limb a beautiful gown, the same as the one Ishtar had earlier worn. “Here, lift your arms high.”
Ishtar obeyed.
The beech then slid the gown down over the child and adjusted it carefully. “There!” He laughed. “Pretty a picture as just might be.”
He then took Ishtar’s hands, caressing them with his leafy fingers. He frowned. “Be wary, my child. Your journey is only beginning, the Lord of Uncertainty being but one of your many adversaries. He is not really such a bad fellow. Yes, his desire is full of selfishness, and his council self-serving, but he did teach you the way out of Uncertainty’s trap. Learn to use the wisdom of others, even when they do not appear kindly. Trollish wisdom may still be lifesaving wisdom. Be careful of the smiling kiss giving undo praise while offering wisdom.”
Ishtar was full of questions, but the old beech was finished with his council. Offering a gentle push, he pointed her in the direction she needed to go. “Your journey is yet to begin, and many are the lessons you must learn before the sun settles upon a new age. Remember well this adventure and do not forget the kindness you have received here. Even that old troll you may one day come to appreciate.”
He patted her back. “Now off you go. There is much for you to see before the cock crows a new morning. Hurry along and don’t be late.”
With that, the aged beech groaned as he lifted high his limbs. He closed his eyes and was suddenly sound asleep. Ishtar called out several times, but there came no reply. At last, she hurried away down the trail, her flesh renewed by the moon’s healing light. Wide awake, the girl wondered as only this child could wonder, about what new and exciting adventures awaited her over the next rise.
The trail went on for league upon league, the ever-night never lifting. Well, in a dream, time and distance seem to matter little except to the person experiencing it. Adventures? Yes, the girl had many more adventures while traveling along that narrow twisting trail. Monsters and spirits aplenty swooped in and down upon Ishtar, sometimes frightening and chasing her, while at other times befriending and comforting her, but those are stories for another place and time. There is only one more account from the child’s dream that need be told here, and it came when she arrived at the far end of the wooded trail.
The path had become wide and smooth after rising up through a long ravine onto a forested plain. Most of the trees her
e were simple, peaceful folk, many families of pine, larch, aspen, basswood, and ash. Oh yes, the forest on this plain was filled with many ash clans. Occasionally the girl would hear the sleepy voice of an aged tree calling for her to stop a while and visit, but it was mainly out of politeness not malice, the tree really wishing to return to its dozing. At times, Ishtar would hear the cry from a sapling complaining to others about being crowded by its many siblings. Still, all in all, it was a rather quiet, pleasant journey through this part of the wood.
The night itself was drawing to a close when Ishtar finally arrived where the path turned and passed out into a large grassy glade. The glow of early dawn was only beginning to appear on the distant horizon when she cautiously stepped out from the safety of the trees to see if any of the weed folk might be waiting here for her. After all, if the trees communicated such great distances to speak with their kin, might not the weed people do the same? Other than the cool of morning dampness rushing up to greet her, the girl discovered little more than the soft, mossy grasses that tickled and soothed her feet.
As she stood there, breathing in the invigorating earthy scent of growing things, luxuriating in the touch of those moist grasses on her feet, Ishtar’s gown began again to radiate its golden glow, casting a haunting light all about her. She stepped further into the glade, the darkness continuing to flee from before her advance. With every step, the fear of the weed people diminished. Soon she was making for the rise at the other end of the glade, wondering what might await her on its other side.
Nearing the crest of the long rise, Ishtar came upon a broken shield, and then a sword, a shattered helm, trampled ground and several spent arrows. Soon the evidence of a violent contest flooded the girl’s senses. She shivered in apprehension, distressed by the feeling that in some way this destruction was connected to her journey the old troll had mentioned, but whether it was past or portent, she could not tell. Afraid, she wanted to return to the safety of the wood, but growing curiosity forced her feet ever onward until she broke over the rise.
The further down the other side Ishtar walked, the greater the destruction around her grew. Ishtar became so caught up in the unfolding scene about her that she failed to pay any heed to what might lay ahead. It was not until she had journeyed some distance down into the narrow valley that the girl lifted her eyes, shocked to see she was not alone. She gasped in surprise at seeing a man and woman standing across from each other in heated argument, a flaming blaze separating the two. Despite the girl’s glowing appearance, or the excited reaction at first noticing them, no one paid her any attention. Indeed, it was as if she was invisible to them, the two so absorbed in their contending.
The woman Ishtar saw stood majestic in her nakedness, long, golden hair dancing in the firelight, her face hidden in shadow except for the angry flames burning in her eyes. Opposite her was a handsome, clean-shaven man standing a head and a half taller than the woman, his dark hair shorn close. He wore the armor of soldier, high-laced sandals, and wide golden bands on his forearms. Pronounced were two tattoos on the man’s right arm, the lower one in the shape of an Egyptian cross, and the upper, near his shoulder, in the likeness of a Roman swastika.
The man and woman were in a heated discussion, gesturing wildly with hands and fists, their verbal confrontation so intense, they were paying little heed to anything else. Wide-eyed, the girl listened in awe, her ears all a-tingle. Ishtar soon became aware that these two did not argue over the recent contest, but of wars that had been waged across the universe, wars of such wild grandeur, the girl could little comprehend their depth and breadth.
It was during the height of this verbal onslaught that Ishtar heard her name shouted out, the woman answering in angry frustration. “There is nothing to win with Ishtar’s destruction! The battle this day is finished, its outcome final!” She then pleaded, “Show the child some mercy and I will do the same for you.”
The man screamed in rage, “Mercy?! Mercy?! She will be begging me for mercy before this day is finished! And her uncle will curse you to your very face!”
The woman leaned forward, glaring, fists on hips. She angrily hissed, “Then it shall be! Here is my mercy...” She paused, and then began to laugh in derision. Pointing a finger in the girl’s direction, she tauntingly rebuked the man. “A new power rises. It has waked to fulfill destiny. Be afraid…be very afraid…”
Ishtar put a hand to her mouth as she cried out. The man and woman turned their heads, staring as if surprised by her presence. At that moment, a sudden explosion of blinding light flooded the glade as the sun broke over the distant hills. The girl fell backward, tumbling into nothingness. Terrified, she screamed, “Mother! Help me!”
The world instantly became dark and silent, but the girl remained wide-awake. Gradually the darkness fled and the golden glow of morning returned. At least that was what Ishtar thought it to be at first. As the fog of sleepy dreams slowly faded into forgetfulness, she found herself sitting up in her comfy bed, the golden glow of the crackling hearth fire lighting up her tiny room, a wick oil lamp on a table near the foot of her bed adding its merry light to that of the fire.
Looking about the room, Ishtar let out a relieved sigh. Oh, what strange and horrid dreams! She smiled as the dreadful chill of earlier visions was swept away by the warm security of this place. She was finally home - home and in her little bed, her little room, but the girl puzzled over many things. How long had she slept? The house was so quiet. Where was everyone? What time was it? Too many questions! Too many questions for a child to ponder whose eyes refused to remain opened, whose body called out to sleep a little more.
Ishtar lay back down, resting her head upon her soft pillow while pulling the blankets up snugly around her face. In only seconds, she was fast asleep, dreaming of sweet breads, jam, her mother’s soft touch and comforting words.
(Author’s Note: For an in depth account of Ishtar’s many waking dreams, read the children’s novel, Carina’s Ger: The Little Boat’s Sojourn by Diana, Queen of Memphis. It is the tale of a young woman, Carina, who journeys across the Constellation for which she was named, Carina (Keel). Although listed as a novel, in reality, it is a fancifully stylized autobiography of events from a specific time in this person’s life, being written to reach the minds and hearts of a young audience. It recounts the many awaking dreams of Ishtar as she slowly roused from the realms of the shadow-worlds of long sleep.
Asked during a conversation when seeking material for my book, Ishtar exclaimed, regarding the troll and the forest, “I do not make that up! They were real! And those trees did talk to me, really!”)
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Section Nine: Children of the Tempest