Soul Friend

Brother Christopher is haunted by Leaf's memories.

15.

Soul Friend

 

By the time the monks of St. Edwards reached Brother Christopher, he was screaming at the top of his lungs in what almost seemed like a strange language, apparently to the empty air.

He could not be calmed and the brothers had to pin him to the ground and bind him to bring him back to the monastery.

However, by the time they had placed him in the infirmary he had fallen into a comatose state.   His eyes were wide-open, but he did not see anyone.     Brother Michael, after many hours of desperate prayer for the young man, even resorted to slapping him smartly on the face, yet the young monk did not flinch.   They saw the mysterious ring that he wore on his pinky, yet none could remove it and finally Brother Michael told them to leave it alone.

“Faerie witchcraft,” Some of the monks would whisper, “Christopher saw them, or tried to stop them, perhaps he stole a ring from one of them,  and this brought their hill down, so they hexed him.”

 

But Chris was swimming in the memories of a wonderful Sidhe girl.    Many, many years of memories spent with her loving family in a mystical place that fit closely to what he imagined heaven to be like.    Beautiful and peaceful, but in the midst of it a large well where scenes of events would appear,  as if in a crystal ball.

Sidhe weren’t required to intervene in these worlds, he learned from Llaiannileaf’s memories, but often they did, for they loved life and wished for all peaceful races to live in harmony.

He got to know her family; her kind and gentle mother, her intelligent and charismatic father, and all the others.     But he also saw them disappear into the well, searching for Malestan after he failed to return from one of his many trips.

Christopher experienced Leaf’s anxiety as first one, than another of her beloved family members leaped into the well, promising to return with news, but never to return.    To make matters worse, all the time, the various worlds in the Chronal well began to disappear, one by one, slowly at first, but steadily, telling them that something final was happening to the worlds that the Greater Sidhe had created.

 

He felt her terror and loneliness when she was the last and the sheer desperation of her jump into the well.    He saw with her eyes the image of his mother as a young girl, kidnapped by a raider from one of the bandit groups that went through the land, and how Leaf rescued her.    He saw his brother’s birth years later - though only moments passed for Leaf.  

He heard and understood her mournful Kindred Song and the agony she felt at no response.    He saw how she had been there at his birth and had saved his life, and even how she perceived him.

 

Lastly, he saw her hopelessness in her father’s message, the feeling she had of all that she had ever known or loved being taken from her.     But even in her hopelessness, she had done something unheard of before - she had placed upon his finger, her Anamchara in a wild chance that by wearing it, her magic might reach him in time and heal.

Which it had, of course, except that Brother Christopher now shared her memories and it was as if her very essence was hovering close, ghost-like, watching him, yet out of touch.

 

For two months Chris remained in his trance, though many came to see him and wonder at his state.    The King even visited the monastery after seeing the remains of the Faerie Hill and gifted the monks a grant of gold to maintain the lost monk in as best of comfort as they could.

A monk would feed him each day and he would eat as if he were a puppet controlled elsewhere.     They would bathe and change his soiled garments, read scripture to him and pray for him.    

By the end of the second month, no-one thought he would ever regain his senses.    But late at night, a month before the fall equinox, his trance ended and he stirred.

The monk watching him was snoring in his chair and Christopher had no desire to disturb him.    His mind was focused on a single goal, and he only had a month to make preparations.

For the first week, he feigned his mindless state, only moving about at night, regaining strength in his muscles.   

But he knew that he could not keep it from them for three more weeks, so on the eighth day after his trance ended, he stirred in the presence of Brother Michael.

The monastery came to life immediately and all the monks crowded around his bed in the infirmary to listen as Brother Michael questioned him.

Chris hated to lie, but they could not know the truth, so he crafted a tale, told in a weak voice as if he were barely awake, of hearing chanting upon the hill when he had placed the offering upon the tree.    He had then beheld a ring of Faerie men and women dancing at the summit of the hill and they had beckoned for him to join them.  

He had resisted, of course, but finally had yielded to them and for an endless period of time they had danced.    One of them had given him a ring, Christopher told the Monks, and he had slipped it on his finger.   Then, suddenly, amidst their revelry, the hill had simply collapsed and that was all he said that he could remember until awakening in the monastery.

The monks had seemed convinced by his tale, yet Brother Michael’s eyes betrayed serious doubt.

They let him regain his strength for another week before returning to his cell and his cloistered way of life.     Brother Michael never asked him again about the events, but from what Chris had learned from sharing Leaf’s memories, it was clear that he suspected an encounter with her rather than a ring of dancing Faeries.

 

Christopher kept a low profile and returned to his schedule of prayers and work.    But secretly, in his cell late at night, he had an important project that he had limited time to complete.

 

The monastery had been self-sufficient since it had been founded, years ago.   The rules of the order required that each monk learn one of a few trades.    Then, between times set aside for prayer, meditation, chores around the monastery and other tasks, that each monk work at his craft, offering up finished products that the monastery could sell or trade for food and supplies.

 

Chris had crafted silver and copper jewelry for several years and had become quite skilled at it.    Brother Michael had trained him personally and he had worked for several weeks crafting the last silver cross that he had placed in the Faerie tree on the night that  he had met Leaf.

Now he worked on another piece of silver jewelry, but not during the working hours.     For many hours at night he crafted it, carefully forming it, engraving it, and then selecting the perfect piece of rare green topaz to mount in the center.     Never had he crafted anything more beautiful, but his hands now were guided by knowledge that he had never before possessed.   

The green topaz had not come from the monastery’s vaults but from one of his many visits to the rubble of Faerie Hill.    When he had seen it he knew it was perfect for his purpose.   It had come from a Sidhe medallion, that he knew (through Leaf’s memories) to have belonged to Leaf’s aunt, Naellia.

Naellia had gone into the void, leaving her personal effects in a cache burial on the hill.

 

Reverently he had added the stone to his creation and, led by Leaf’s knowledge, sang to it softly something from his life; from what he knew, what he had experienced and what he loved.       His voice chanted the beautiful prayers of devotion to the merciful Christ of his order.   He sang of faith and hope, of steadfastness and the joy of simplicity.    He sang of seeing God in all of creation and of peace and love.      When he had finally finished, it was the eve of the Autumn Equinox.  

He had of course planned it that way.      At dawn, of that morning, he arose early and, making certain his cell door was locked, he closed his eyes and chanted the Sidhe words that he heard in his head, to bind and enchant his creation.

It pulsed with a slight blue glow as the spell ended, causing him to stare in wonder at the works of his hands and mouth.

Then, securing it tightly in a cloth and placing it safely in the deep pockets of his robe, he joined the other monks for morning prayers.

***

 

The day passed maddeningly slow for Christopher, but he retained his composure and no-one seemed to notice anything unusual about him.     Inside he was almost wild with anticipation and fear, for what he planned depended on everything to fall into place perfectly.

During afternoon prayers, instead of praying for the King and his family as was the custom on this day of the week, he prayed for success for his plan.

At last, the evening meal was over and the monks had a brief period of time before the final round of prayers of the day.     He casually rose from his chair and forced himself to slowly wander toward the gardens near the front gate of the monastery.

Chris held his breath until he saw that the gates were not closed.    Picking up his pace, he was halfway out of the portal when the voice of Brother Michael called from behind him.

He stopped as if stricken with paralysis.   Trying to smile, he turned to face the master of the order.

“Brother Christopher, where are you going?”    The elder monk asked with a piercing, yet still kindly, gaze.

For a moment he considered lying - nothing could hamper his plan.     But the look that Brother Michael gave him surprised him.

He knew.

“I’m going to the Faerie Hill, Brother.”   He told him softly.

“Will you return?”

“I don’t know.   I hope to, of course, but I may not, Brother.”

“What do you expect to find, Christopher?”

“I don’t expect to find anything, sir.   I hope to find… her.”

Brother Michael nodded gravely, “I understand, Brother.     Perhaps this is your destiny.     If you do find her, do this for me.   Tell her of Our Lord.     Make her understand that even she is loved by Him.     Even she can be saved.”

Christopher smiled slightly, knowing how those words would embitter her, for her family had yielded to the void.

“Brother, I shall try.    I believe that Christ is Lord of all things, even that which we fear and that which we do not know or understand.”

“Amen, Christopher.     Carry Christ to her, my son, and may Jesus Christ Our Lord guide you.    Go in peace.”

“And you, my master.     I thank God for your guidance.”

With a slight bow, Chris turned and ran toward the setting sun, toward the west side of the collapsed hill.   

Brother Michael watched him go, crossed himself, and turned to resume his responsibilities.

Reviews

[Dhaye]

At last, I have read another part of Leaf.

I like this chapter about "soul friends". Chris cannot forget Leaf. He felt her agony because she is important to him ... they are "soul mates".

Nice chapter.

[Eddie Davis]

Thanks, Dhaye

[Elina]

"...causing him to stare at wonder..." I believe you want "in," rather than "at."
"

[Eddie Davis]

Thanks, you're editing skills are a huge help to my writing.