Through the Mirror Lake (and into the Tunnel…)

The sky and water seem on fire.  It is sunset, such a magical time of the day.  I used my walnut to beam directly to the Mirror Lake, that E and Gypsy told us about.  It is with a beating heart and some fear that I stand before the still water. 

I look into the crystal clear edge to see if I can find the shoes Gypsy saw, but there is nothing but pebbles in all the colours of a prism.  A small school of rainbow fish darts across, and somewhere a dragonfly lands softly on the surface, sending ripples to me like the sighs of a baby in its sleep.

Well, maybe nothing will happen here.  Perhaps I know all there is to know…

The ripples grow bigger and bigger.  “The dragonfly must have been one heavy insect!” I think, as I watch the waves, still growing bigger.  Suddenly one of the waves jumps out of the pond, and grabs my legs.  The cold fingers of the water send needles through my whole body, as the water now blankets me from head to toe.  I struggle to catch my breath, as I am sucked into the lake in a swirling mealstrohm of foam, spray and icy cold water…

Deeper and deeper into the lake, until it is dark blue all around me, and I am completely trapped like an insect in amber.  I am almost out of breath.  Will this be the end of me?  I wave my arms around and kick wildly.  There is only the cold water around me, like a big jelly hand that holds me down and pushes me even deeper into the dark tunnel which has opened under me.

Finally, I start to fall, out of the water, and down into a black tunnel.  I gulp for air.  “Alice…” I think fleetingly, but there is nothing here to grab, no one to ask for help.  Still I am falling deeper and deeper into what feels like the Abyss.

Far below me I see a green spot, gleaming like a jade oval…or no, it is not an oval, it is more irregular, more like the feathery tops of ferns, moss and other plants.  I fall through a green arch, and land very softly onto the mossy floor.  I am in a cave!

The Mossy Fairy Cave at the bottom of the Mirror Lake

A voice speaks to me, but not from outside of me.  It bubbles up from inside, deep inside from the places that I hide beneath my own Mirror Lakes, the places that only I can see, the places where my dreams and memories live.  “My Child, you must sit.  You will not think of things to do.  You will not offer to help others.  You will not plan ahead.  You will only sit, and think, and dream.  Once you have done that long enough, you will produce a jewel of immeasurable value.  You will offer that jewel to the Mirror Lake, and it will return you to the surface.  Then, and only then, will you have mastered the maelstrohm that can so easily suck you into an Abyss.  Then, and only then, will you be free to live your life blessed with creativity.  Now, sit, and dream, my Child.”

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I sat there for a very long time, but it seemed such a short pleasure.  I went into the doors of my inner cave, and re-discovered old chests filled with golden moments.  I confronted some dark shadows, and lit little candles to take away the shadow.  I sat, and thought, and dreamt.  Finally, I returned from my inner journey, and found a glittering golden jewel at my feet.

A golden jewel produced by my dreams and memories

I offered the jewel to the Mirror Lake, and was immediately back at the edge of the Lake where I started…

I wanted to linger longer, but the sun was rising and I had to hurry back to my cabin, to go and share my experience with Bug and Violetta-May (my lap dragon)…….or, just to go and dream a little more!

by Fairy Rainbow

Looking in the Mirror

After a surprisingly restful night, I breakfasted in the courtyard of the tavern, and set Alys the task of finding me a guide up into the mountains. She came back a few minutes later with a young girl in tow.

“My daughter Frida,” she said. “She knows these mountains like a goat.”

Frida had very dark eyes – there was almst no white showing – and she was very thin and athletic, so the `goat’ description seemed apt. She had a very pretty face, but there was something not quite human about it.

“Her father is one of the mountain men,” Alys said. “You’ll be safe up there with her.”

“Would you like to join me for breakfast first” I asked. Frida smiled, transforming her whole face, and sat down. Alys, looking very happy, sped off to get more food.

“Where are you going?” Frida asked.

“First we have to go down to the carnival – I have a stall there, and there might have been some requests. Then I want to go to the Mirror Lake.”

She nodded. “I can take you there. If we leave as soon as you have checked the stall, we can be there before midday.” She lowered her head shyly. “Are you on a quest?”

“Sort of. I have some instructions I have to follow to the letter.”

There was one request at the stall, which I fulfilled, then I followed Frida out of town and up a long, dusty road. In the distance I could the mountain peaks rising into the clear blue sky.

We carried packs with food and water, but the Temple Island is not very big and there are many villages. No one took a great deal of notice of us as we passed, probably because this island sees many pilgrims.

The air was like spring water, clear and refreshing. I took deep breaths as we climbed. Thank the Goddess Lemuria has this invigorating and youthful effect, I thought. I doubt I could have made this climb in my own world.

As it was, I lagged a bit behind Frida, who moved effortlessly on her long legs. She didn’t rush ahead however, and pointed out to me various sights along the way. I saw a glint in the distance and she told me it was a waterfall, where the acolytes of the Temple bathed away their old lives before commiting to the service of the Goddess.

“Have you been there?” I asked, unthinking.

“Oh yes – I am in the service of the Goddess.”

After an hour or so, we rested and had a drink of water and a couple of the flat oat cakes Alys had packed for us. I’m not generally fond of oat cakes, but these were quite delicious and flavoured with honey. They gave me energy for the next leg of the trip. We were now quite high, and below I could see the Lemurian Ocean, and the Vulcania moored just outside the harbour, her long sleek lines a white slash on the deep blue of the sea.

It would been very warm, except for the fresh breeze which accompanied us. Frida pointed up ahead, where the road diverged. One road went round the mountain, the other went straight up.

“We can take the winding road,” she said, “But that will take much longer.”

“We’ll go straight up,” I said. In spite of the altitude, I felt well and strong. Frida smiled and led the way.

The view from the top of the mountain ws incredible. I stopped to catch my breath, and saw a grove of trees up ahead. I saw they were Lemurian pines.

” The Mirror Lake is in there,” Frida said. “I will wait. You must go alone.”

I went ahead, down the path well worn by many pilgrims. It was so still inside the grove that it seemed nothing stirred. But the air was crisp and cool,and as I approached the lake, it really shone like a mirror, reflecting the blue sky and puffy white clouds above.

Frida had warned me that sometimes the Lake could be unpredictable, but as I waded out into the water, it seemed calm enough. I cupped some water in my hands let it fall back into the lake. The water was crystal clear. I could see my feet on the bottom, no longer dusty from the long walk. Then a pair of small shoes appeared in front of them, lying on the bottom of the lake.

My first thought was, “they are not for me, they are too small.” But they twinkled beneath the water. They seemed to be made of some silvery, shiny stuff – I knew it was not leather, because that is not permitted in the island’s sacred places. Nothing happened for a while, so I hesitantly put one foot in a shoe and it almost leapt onto my foot, moulding itself around it in a perfect fit. I slipped on the other shoe and the same thing happened. So there I stood, on the edge of the lake, with silvery shoes upon my feet.

A voice bubbled up from the depths of the lake. It had the same silvery quality as the shoes, and as it spoke, translucent many coloured bubbles rose from the lake and popped in the air around me.

“Now you walk in your own shoes,” the voice said. “Who are you?”

I looked in the lake, expecting to see my familiar reflection. Instead I saw someone who smiled back at me, secure in the knowledge of her true self. I reached my hand down, and she reached hers up and we touched on the surface of the lake. A great ache and a longing arose in me to be back where I truly belonged, my own unalterable self.

“Not yet,” the voice said. “Not yet.” And the reflection vanished, the bubbles fell back under the surface and the shoes vanishd from my feet. But I remained, staring into the water.

Frida was waiting for me outside the grove. She said nothing, but looked at my face and smiled. I said nothing either – how could you describe the feeling of looking into your own soul? But now I know who I truly am, I realise I can never get lost again. How wise of Sinbad to insist on this first step. For if you don’t know who you are, how can you ever find your way back?

Lake image from freeimages.co.uk