Kalfirins story

A tale of the origin of Tolkiens Alfirin flower, as told to Kalfirin by grumpy gramps the neighborhood odd old man.

Kalfirin hopped of the creaky yellow school bus and ran down the block. Most children would be excited it was school vacation. She was excited because it was story day! Old gramps would be out in the porch swing with his sipping whiskey and finally was going to tell her the true story of her name. She stretched her lithe tan legs in a quicker stride and thought " Well if not true, at least it will be more interesting than the truth." as she approached the corner.

She took special care to ensure she did not leave the sidewalk and cut across the lawn. The old man was very fickle about kids on the lawn and yelled at any who dared trespass upon the verdant green carpet. He was at his usual post in the porch swing with his sipping whiskey as he called it on his little table keeping a wary eye out for those who would wear a path taking a shortcut across his precious lawn.

Kali as he called her looped up the walkway with the grace and fluidity only youth can unconsciously effect.She called out "hey grouch how are you today?" playfully. The old man sat back and replied " I am fine you trouble making whippersnapper, git over here before you attract some young hoodlum onto my lawn." his tone while gruff also conveyed his fondness for the young woman.

Kali set her book bag carefully on the small table he provided for her since she " needed to treat her belongings with respect." as the old man called it and settled down on the swing beside him. They were not related but she called him gramps or grumpy all the time. No other child in the area came to visit and most were terrified of the giant old codger who so fiercely guarded his lawn. Kalfirin was different, she had challenged him years ago and asked why she should not tread upon the hallowed lawn.

The explanation had interested her because it was more than just avoiding the wearing of a path in the corner lots yard but also the fragility of the flowers that would bloom at the border but only if not crushed by those unaware of the beauty waiting to blossom but only if left uncrossed to bloom.

Gramps had told her many stories over the next few years as the friendship between the odd pair grew and blossomed as well. Today was special though, Gramps said the ghost of Talkies had come to him and given him the story of HER name. She could.contain herself no longer as he took his sweet time taking a long drawn out sip of whiskey from his mason jar. "the story! Come on you promised!" she said trying not to whine and failing.

The old coot gave her a sly grin knowing it had been just a bit mean to keep her waiting " fine missy! Be impatient but you are right I did promise." sitting back with a wry chuckle he dove right into his tale for Kalfirin.

In the days of future past, when Yggdrasil and Jormungandr were seed and wyrm, when the mists of chaos still were fighting against the order being imposed by the gods with the aid of their faerie allies. Man was created and set aside for later as both to fragile and to powerful a creature to be used against chaos.

Kalifrin listened to the preamble with stoic patience. Usually some detail that was important later in the story proved to be here, occasionally though it was just the old man rambling.

"The day of man had come and gone and still was to be," he paused here and took a small sip of whiskey." but you remember that from the tale of Jormungandr." he set his glass down firmly deciding to himself to tell Kali her tale with no further interruption.

This is when the wild faerie came into existence, creatures, like man, of both order and chaos but also of the faerie meaning they were of extremes. That could take many forms from loyalty, emotion, love, duty the possibilities are as many and varied as flowers. These wild ones helped firmly plant order in the chaos and simultaneously ensured the destruction of order aging the way for man to enter the world.

When I say men I speak of women as well for without them there is no man. Now once order was established and the races of magic and men lived together many tales are to be told. We however are focused on a very special and unique magical remnant from that time, The immortal flower, the Alfirin, a flower that can be of almost any color but seemed to only grow upon the crypts and tombs of man.

Th e old man seemed lost in another world for a moment then reached out and screwed a top on the mason jar of whiskey and reached for his gnarled oak cane. He got up and said " join me on a short walk as I finish your tale Kali, Please?" in a subdued voice.

This was not at all part of the usual plan but Kali did not reply she just stood and linked arms with the old man and helped him down the stairs and down the walkway.

As I was saying its both a magical and eternal flower, no one knows why they have different colors but me now because Tolkiens ghost told me. They are beautiful bell shaped flowers with gossamer thin petals and yet have neither pistol nor stamen and have no seeds which can ever be found and planted.

This is because they are created by magic. When men and women die and are laid to rest in a tomb or crypt and their souls are truly at peace. The soul is still bound to this world and the body.

Unseen in the night the only remnant of faerie magic that can survive in the harsh world of men is the wild faerie. Even those only the ones of pure brave heart dedicated to allowing the souls of men to move on to their just reward.

They arrive and call forth the stem of the Alfirin and place their faerie silk skirt upon it and then dance and sing to call forth the resting soul.

You know not all souls laid peacefully to rest are good souls and even a good soul does not recognize the purpose and intent of these faerie.

The faerie by necessity must fly about the soul cutting its bonds with the world and in many cases the soul experiences pain fear anger all negative emotions it thought it had put aside so the faerie must fly about it with humming bird speed slashing and cutting while avoiding the cold touch of death from the fearful soul.

Men spill blood a soul bleeds at the ties that bound it to the earth and depending on the person and how they lived it colors  the faerie silk of the newborn Alfirin flower black for evil men blue for melancholy and so on. Thus are the ordinary Alfirin grown and bloom in a single night.

The souls of certain women are special though, they give birth to a special flower.

Gramps paused and opened a iron gate that led into a small cemetery and ushered Kali in. He waved to the groundskeeper as the two headed towards a crypt just short of the center of the graveyard. Kalifirin was certain he was going to show her one of these magical flowers and grew quietly excited.

The Kalifirin is a special immortal flower born only from the souls of brave women. Now keep in mind bravery is many things especially when it comes to ladies. Some have the courage to help others abused find freedom and hope some dedicate themselves to helping just one good man do what he must in this world while others take stands and actually fight as a man might, bravery has as many forms as there are faerie.

A few of these women are so brave that when the wild faerie come to free their soul they can ignore the pain as the bonds are cut and instead study the wild one in rapt wonder. Their ties dripping slowly as the wild ones realizing they have nothing to fear from this soul take and paint a invitation showing the intent upon the faerie silk they shall leave behind inviting the now free soul to continue its brave work in eternity as a wild faerie themselves.

They leave behind a special Immortal flower, the Kalfirin and it look like that.

Kali rushed to where the old man had gestured with his cane. There growing in a small semi circle were four bell shaped flower with neither pistol nor stamen and petals as gossamer thin as silk, but they were not one color they were a brilliant rainbow of hearts interlinked in a pattern like those of Eschers lizards.

The old man turned to head home and said " Thatsmy wifes grave there Kali, live up to your name for I see a lot of bravery in you to girl." he lengthened his stride so the young woman would not see the tear in his eye as he headed home.