“The Edge of Death” – Rogue Wizard – The Fire of Fury – Part 21

Happy Sol’s Day!

Rogue Wizard’s Journal – November 4th, 2019

The last few days are a blur and it is probably going to take a few journal entries to sort out.  Of course, by seeing this entry you know that I survived the encounter with the Death Angels on Halloween Night.  I will note so none worry, that Amber and Lunette are also with me.  We are all alive and in a new place.  That said, I don’t think I will be the same again.  None of us will.

The Battle was one of the closest I had ever been in.  There were as far as we can tell six Death Angels.  According to Lunette and Amber, there were three men and three women.  I only got to see two because it is the one I fought and the one who hit me with the death spell that I noted.  The girls were busy with the other members of the Council’s death squad. The one that was immediate in my face was a man and he had bad breath and came with a hoard of rats that he used to tap into his powers.  He was wielding a sword made of magic – the green shit of the movies.

Honest and he came at me full speed and it was all I could do to hold the porch of the cabin against his attacks which were rapid and continuous.  I could see Amber burning something out of one corner of one eye and Lunette doing her pinball thing out fo the other.  But it was a full-time shield act to keep this guy from landing a blow plus keep his rats away from biting my ankles.  My whole attention was focused on this guy and that is what lead to my downfall.

I heard the death spell being chanted and could not do anything about it.  I backed up a little to the edge of the door and then I could see her.  Pale as shit and skyclad.  Her alabaster body was beautiful as was the rest of her and her hair long and pure white. Her one hand was extended toward me and she was chanting the Death Spell, the other hand was wrapped around the neck of a young teenage girl.  The sacrifice for the spell.

I could do nothing except strengthen my shield and hope that one fo the girls helped my ass. But no help came and the spell steaked like a bolt of eldritch green from her hand and hit me square in the chest.  At the last minute though, I felt something strange and yet loving; it made me feel at peace.  As I fell, I could feel my shield slipping as death came over me. I lost consciousness and dropped to the floor of the porch.  It was the last thing I remember of the fight.

According to the girls, they saw what was happening too late and then when I fell they got pissed.  Lunette literally when psycho at that moment and streaked off at the naked witch. When she struck she didn’t hold anything back and literally started to do her pinball thing and hitting hard enough to break bones.  Amber for her part let loose a fireball on two necromancers she was fighting with and I guess it burned them to a cinder where they stood. In a matter of seconds, it was two on three.

The other two Lunette had been dealing with turned tail including the guy we had seen in town.  Lunette turned her attention to rat necromancer and because his rats couldn’t fly like she could, she made short work of him.  The snap of his bones as she struck was audible to all.   According to Amber, she was screaming rage the entire time. Amber for her part concentrated a fireball in her hands for a few seconds and let fly after the last two and when it struck the scream echoed in the night. 6-1 our win, but I was down.  Lunette steaked to my side and grew full-sized ripping her miniature garment to tatters.

Amber and Lunette examined me.  Probably crying their eyes out but neither girl spoke to me about that.

“Lunette, I can still feel him.  He isn’t gone.”

Puzzled, Lunette reached out with her tattoo and confirmed I wasn’t dead.  But I wasn’t alive either. They checked on the teenage girl and she wasn’t dead either.  Barely alive.

According to the girls, they acted quickly gathering up our stuff, throwing everything into the pickup.  The placed me and the girl in the back and took off.  They left the girl in town on a park bench and called 911 and then took off again.  Lunette knew a place that might be safe so she was determined to get to it and find out what happened with me.

What did happen to me?  I need to think about it before I write about it.  But I can tell you, I have many life-changing events and this is definitely in the top three.  I will relay this tomorrow.  The emotions of this whole thing are still pretty strong.

Writer’s Notes:

Two to one is a fair fight with my trio.  If there is one weakness I have in real life it is a lack of speed.  This played into the story.  I prefer to think things out, create a plan and execute.  In a situation where I can’t do that, its full-on defense and wait until I can.  Yeah, that gets you busy and then dead if you’re facing as deadly an opponent as the Death Angels. 

My emotions are real on this one and the couple to come. Particularly the next one.  

I remain,

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher. The Grey Wayfarer.

Skaal!!!

“Funeral Pyre” – Rogue Wizard – The Fire of Fury – Part 10

Happy Woden’s (Odin) Day

Rogue Wizard’s Journal: January 25th, 2019 (cont.)

Of course, I hesitated for a moment, magical flames licking the edge of my fingers.  The Grove had been my childhood place of growing up in my magical powers.  It has been the place where my love and lover Elpis had been.  Where we talked, laughed and loved.  She had in many ways turned me into a man. Now, I was about to destroy the only thing left that represented any kind of anchor to the past.  The last physical remnant to my magical childhood.

It hadn’t all been good.  I suddenly realized I was standing the very place where Elpis had pronounced judgment on Lunette and removed, very forcibly, her wings.  That whole thing led to Lunette and I having healing sex to cure me of magical disease, but the magic released also restored Lunette’s wings to the current state they were in.  It was one of the most intense physical and magical moments of my life. It happened in the grove, but I was fairly sure, that Lunette’s parents’ home was gone.  This twisted trunk was all that was left. An old throne, scars and a place of love turned to a dead coldness.  How symbolic of my relationship to Elpis.

I glanced over to Lunette, our eyes met and she nodded.  Then she looked away. I turned my attention back to the tree.  My thoughts were racing and then I remembered the day Elpis cast me out of the Grove for good, my wife’s death and the breakup I had with Miss Salty. Anger welled up in me. Fire.  The Fire of Fury.

“Amber.  Now!!!”

Flames burst from my fingertips.  Red and orange.  As they touched the tree, I could see it illuminated from the other side by Amber’s flames.   The flames from both sides burst quickly up the trunk.  After a few minutes, I stopped casting my spell. It was no longer necessary as the tree’s magic was now providing the fuel for the fire. Soon the whole trunk was a burning beacon. The heat became quite intense. Elpis never allowed fire in the grove, and now I could see why in full glory.  I didn’t have to tell Amber to stop as the heat required me and Lunette to back up some distance away and Amber joined us. We watched it burn.

“Well, the fae can stop spending so many lives to protect this place now from the hands of the wizards.”

Lunette’s voice was cracked, coming in gasps through her sobs.   I said nothing.  The tears were rolling down my face like rivers.  We watched as the flames began to consume the trunk.  Soon the whole thing was in flames and burning brightly.  The magic of the tree being consumed by our magical fire.

Amber seemed a little distraught herself.

“Ed, this whole place is going to become very active, very soon with either fae or wizards. It’s not going to be safe for much longer.”

“Amber, we have a little time.  This is a funeral pyre and it would be disrespectful to leave too early.”

Amber nodded and walked a little ways away from us, and I felt Lunette’s hand in mine. She grasped it with some desperate strength.

“What do you think really happened to Elpis, Edward?”

“She lost her fight with her inner demons.  She came to hate who she was and then did what she had to end that part of her life. Suicide.  But as an immortal, she couldn’t do that as a dryad.  She had to become human.  So she did, in a way.  Her ghost will either slowly dissipate over time, or if her unfinished business is resolved, she will fade forever. She is still out there, I think, but there is no going back to where she was now, ever.”

“Well, the fae can stop fighting for this bulge in the line now.  They can pull back.”

“That’s bad news for me.  I am going to have to start living at the Mansion full time.”

“That has it’s own dangers”

“Tell me about it, but I am hoping to enact the plan soon. I need to disappear for my family’s sake.”

“Or die.  I am not trying to be shocking, Edward.  Because that would end the feud and then the Council would not give two shits about your family.”

“You didn’t shock me, dear.  I know that would solve the issue too.  Death will come for me in her own good time. I will embrace her as if I was laying down in bed with a beautiful woman.  I just see no need to do it myself with so many enemies.  One of them is probably going to get me.  I just hope I am in a position to return the favor.”

Lunette moved in and I put my arm around her waist as she leaned against me.  We watched the flames for a little longer. Amber broke our reflective moment.

“Edward, I sense that this is attracting attention.  From both sides.  Scouts will be here soon and we need not to be.”

“You’re right, just give us one more moment.”

I turned to face Lunette and she me.  My arms went instinctively around her waist, and she put hers around my neck. I kissed her. I felt my magic get supercharged and she probably had the equivalent to a micro-orgasm, but we both needed to feel better and so a kiss was needed. I pulled back after a little bit.

“We need to go Lunette, there is going to be nothing left anyway.”

With that, Lunette, Amber and I headed back to the Mansion. The last remnants of the Red Tree Grove burning behind us.

Author’s Notes: Before this week, I hadn’t touched this chapter since May 27th, 2019.  I think the whole Grey Storm thing just made it too difficult to write. I was also wrestling with how to do this.  In the end, this chapter is simply a funeral for a character made as a labor of love and because of that love causes me pain now personally and as a writer.  Elpis needs to be gone as much as possible, but she had to go with my own writer’s hand.

As I mentioned before this saga as a whole is probably going to come to an end very soon. The whole thing with the ‘death’ of the main character.  I am putting ‘death’ in quotes because I want to still leave some air of mystery to this. You have to read the rest to know the true end of the Rogue Wizard.

Emotionally it’s hard for me to let go.  I loved every moment of writing the Hedge Wizard of Redberg and Rogue Wizard is basically the endgame of that. It means letting go for good and moving on and I have a hard time with that when it comes to writing. But closure in this whole Miss Salty/Elpis relationship is going to come slowly I think for me, but I also think I can make it come a little sooner by closing this whole thing out and ending it.  It will give me fewer memory triggers if I do, but I have to trigger some memories to get there.  

I remain,

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher. The Grey Wayfarer.

Skaal!!!

“Songs About the Wolf Within” – The Skald’s Lyre

Happy Saturn’s Day

Musical Journal:

In the fantasy genre of literature, the wolf and werewolf are very symbolic of the wild untamed side of the human experience. There is a sensual and animalistic point to the image of a wolf or a man/woman transforming into a werewolf.  In the world of music, there are songs about this animalistic side of humanity and they often use the image of the wolf. It’s not coincidental that this is so the image of wolves and men is an old one and a very powerful one.

This Skald’s Lyre is a little different.  It is about a type of song that relates to the human experience coupled with one of my favorite genres of books and film – fantasy.  In particular the world of fantasy horror and the wolf and werewolf image.  The music attempts to capture this essence in both lyrics and setting the tone with the music. It often does a very good job at both.

Personal Significance:

Today I am not going to list my personal significance with each song as that is not really the point.  For me, there are simply some good songs that call to my animal side or remind me that I have one. For me, the image of the wolf is center to my heart and self-identity so that fits too.

I have had two conversations with women about men that reflect this point along the sexual side of things. Hey, whenever I write about sex it always gets attention.

1) “What the world needs are fewer wolves and more gentlemen.” – my response was pretty simple. “My dear, a gentleman is nothing more than a patient wolf.” Sorry, there is no such thing as a man who has an interest in a woman where raw sexuality isn’t present. You can keep it domesticated on civil but that raw energy is what powers all the other aspects of the relationship.  As an author once said – “everything is about sex, except sex which is about something else.”  A gentleman is just a really patient strategically-minded wolf looking for a certain type of woman to bed. He is simply a patient hunter.

2) “Men are all dogs.” – I had two responses to this.  a) So are women, women are just as horny and sexual as men.  They just like men to work at it to get them because they want to feel desired. Nothing wrong with that, but to take the high minded route that women aren’t just as interested as men about getting laid is just hypocritical. b) Men are all canine to be sure, but some of them are more domesticated than others.  Some of us seek to be more true to our ancestors and be the wolf. We are just honest about it.  If being a wolf means I am a truly masculine male, then that is my desire.  As a woman, you are either going to accept that and lose your fear of it or you are going to try to domesticate your man out of fear of his wild side and in my opinion, make him less of a man. You would probably be better off accepting his wild side and work more on embracing your own.

For me, being as wolf-like as possible and staying honest about it is something I strive to both focus and embrace.  This isn’t just about being honest about being masculine or sexual but also about the stronger emotions of anger and rage.  The desire to fight for what you care about and desire. So on my playlist are a few songs about this wolf side of things – the animal within and that animal for me is the wolf.

Playlist:

Bark at the Moon – Ozzy Osborne:

Wolf and Man – Metallica:

Animal I Have Become – Three Days Grace:

Night of the Werewolves – Powerwolf:

Úlfhéðnar – Dervhengrym:

I remain,

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher. The Grey Wayfarer.

Skaal!!!

The Pagan Pulpit – The Book of Rabyd 2:4 – “No One’s Happiness but My Own is in My Power to Achieve or to Destroy”

Happy Suns’ Day

Announcements:

We don’t pray here – we figure God, the gods, and goddesses, or whatever powers that be either know already, don’t give a fuck, or are busy with more important matters than our petty stuff. We also kind of assume that they expect us to do stuff that we can do for ourselves and that we will do them ourselves and not be lazy. We also believe in being good friends, so we don’t presume on our friendship with the powers that be by asking them all the time for stuff while giving them nothing in return.

We also don’t take an offering here.  We figure the powers that be probably don’t need it.  Let’s be honest, offerings are not giving to the divine powers, they are given to an organization to support it.  Just being honest. God, the gods or whatever never sees a dime, farthing or peso of that money; it all goes to the church, mosque or shrine.

Opening Song: “Wash It All Away” – Five Finger Death Punch

This song is on my playlist but for multiple reasons.  After my series with the Book of Rabyd, I will be doing a series on spiritual concepts that are universal and one of them is going to be ‘baptism’. This song inspired that idea although it goes back to an idea that someone else suggested to me before I left the ministry. Five Finger Death Punch is a new band for me in many ways, but I like the energy of this song.  The bridge is also very expressive of my emotional state at times:

“I won’t change for you

and I can’t take the pain

There is nothing you can do

and nothing you can say”

Poem: “I Speak to a Ghost” by The Ruined Man

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Don’t have a poem of my own this week so The Ruined Man will speak for me this time.

Meditation: 

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Song of Preparation: ‘Shut Up and Dance With Me’ – Walk the Moon

Just a feel-good song, we are talking about happiness after all.

Text:

“No One’s Happiness but My Own is in My Power to Achieve or to Destroy” – The Book of Rabyd 2:4

Sermon:

Originally this Quote by Ayn Rand was The Book of Rabyd 2:10; but with my desire to remove duplicate quotes as far as quotes from the same people, she jumps to 2:4.  This also presents a problem of the fact I have eliminated about six verses at this point so some new people to quote from will be necessary to get the other points.  I may jump ahead to chapter three and then drop those verses from chapter 2 in when they come to me. The Book of Rabyd is after all not a closed canon of scripture like some.

This statement is more complicated the more you meditate on it. But let’s break it down.

The first concept is that you cannot make people happy.  I think this is the most enlightening thing as I have watched people give their all trying to make others happy and then get frustrated that 1) They fail or 2) They are not happy themselves.  There is a lot of energy saved emotionally and mentally when you figure this out.

You can make yourself happy, in fact, your own happiness is the only happiness that you can really strive to achieve.  You also are the only person who can destroy your own happiness.  That is not to say that others can’t affect your happiness or life and general, but how you perceive, interpret and/or act about those things that determine your happiness and those are all in your power to do.

That’s not to say your emotions cannot be entwined with another.  I think Heinlein’s definition of love is applicable here.  The notion of love being where someone else’s happiness is essential to your own and vice versa. In the case of love, even here through the choices and who has the power over your happiness is still you.

In my own life, this principle has been difficult, even though the truth of it resonates with my soul.  Being an empathic person kind of causes people’s emotions to affect you at times, like it or not.  That said it is still my choice of whether or not to let that affect my happiness in general. I find also that memory can be a difficult thing to deal with at times.  I have choices to make about each and every time I remember things because my memories are highly emotional which of course causes me to relive them like they were yesterday.

All in all, though, the principle is true.  it is just you might have to make a lot of decisions and fight a lot of battles to stand on that mountain top of happiness.  It is, however, your power to achieve or destroy.

Closing Song: “Don’t Stop Believing” – Journey:

Just the lyrics so you can sing along.

Parting Thought: 

 

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Yes, they do.  When it comes to happiness you never know who or what will come along to brighten your day.  You do have to be in the right frame of mind to be on the lookout for it.

I remain,

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher. The Grey Wayfarer.

Skaal!!!

Skald Tales and Poems – Poem – “Salt in My Wound”

Poem: “Salt in My Wounds” by Edward W, Raby, Sr. – Written April 13, 2019

 

Once you were the spice of my life,

You kept me from spoiling

You were the flavor I needed

You made life less plain

 

Then you left me

laying in a pool of my own blood.

Leaving a wound

a void from your knife

 

Now memories of you are salty

Burning as they are applied to the scar

Salt in my wound

Preserving the regret and the pain.

 

– Ed Raby – April 13, 2019 –

 

Commentary:

Without a doubt this was the easiest poem I have ever written.  At least as far as time and feeling are concerned. Took me literally just five minutes.  Even more striking is how little over the last week I have edited it.

Miss Salty, as I called her, helped me through a lot.  She is definitely wiser and smarter than her years would say.  But this whole thing in reflection was a doomed voyage like the Titanic. Right now memories of this whole thing are bitter-sweet. Salty like she was.  They hurt and yet I hope they bring about some cleansing like salt removing infection.

This poem is very much about love lost.   Regrets that are repeated over and over, and so the sting of memory is there every time. I originally thought I would add another verse but then I am trying to experiment in letting my experiences and feeling resonate with others, so another verse might make things too specific.  The reader can fill in their own lines of regrets and their own pain.

I remain,

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard and Philosopher. The Grey Wayfarer.

Skaal!!!

A Skald’s Life – Foundational Virtues – INFJ and Love

 

Happy Moon’s Day. 

Journal Entry:

My personality type is INFJ-A.  If you are familiar with Meyers-Briggs you know that means I am and Introverted, Intuitive, Feelings oriented, Judging type of person with a A on the end for being slightly assertive.  Sometime called the advocate or protector. Now over the years I have changed in my personality indicating to me that events of life can change personality.

I want to look this week at the Higher Virtues and the Nine Noble Virtues in relationship to my personality type to see if I can find any insight into myself. Today I will talk about Love (Romantic Love in particular) and the other Foundational Virtues related to my personality,  I will hit other subjects as the week goes on.

There are lot general things I could see but the thing that sticks out to me about myself when it comes to love, is that when I share with you my inner self, it is because I believe you will never hurt me. I have missed judged this many times and I have paid a price for it. I also am struck with how once I have loved or had a strong friendship with someone I never forget it.  Love is tough for me, because I bear the joys and scars from it for long time.  When someone I trust my inner feelings to betrays or breaks that trust in some other way, it is devastating.  The hurt is long-term and never completely goes away.

Honor:

Honor is the feeling of inner value and worth from which one knows that one is noble of being, and the desire to show respect for this quality when it is found in the world”

Principle – To possess a feeling of inner value about myself and my future with a desire to find the same in others.

Goal: Maintain a daily blog streak of one post per day for an entire year (365 days).

Bucket List: Hike the Northern Lakeshore Trail along the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

This is the second week in a row that I have struggled with honor.  I don’t know why or how to get over it.  I think getting back to lifting helped but I think I need that long walk yet and the weather has sucked. I think my personality might have problems me loving me. Am I actually reaching the point where I am trying to learn to trust myself again after failing myself?  That would be very INFJ.

Courage:

“Courage is the bravery to do what is right always.”

Principle – Act with Courage at the right time.

Goal: Cross one thing off bucket list every year. Deadline March 31st

Bucket List: Go Back to Budapest, Hungary for a vacation.

Courage as a part of love is difficult.  It is one of the reasons I came back to my wife and continue to struggle with rebuilding the relationship.  In my mind actually we are building something new that is better, because the old was not that great. It’s the right thing to do even though when I was considering reconciling I struggled with what I would have to give up – opportunity for something new – in order to reconcile.  Love require work – courageous work at times.  For me as a INFJ, I perceive how deep that is and why I gravitate toward it.

Truth:

“Truth is the willingness to be honest and to say what one knows to be true and right. It is often better to not say anything at all if one cannot be honest.”

Principle – To Be Honest and Speak Truth to Myself and Others.  To Be Silent in the presence of Fools.

Goal: To Write a Non-Fiction Book by March 31st, 2020

Bucket List: Learn Latin by March 31st 2020 to the point I can take a test and show my self proficient.

Truth in Love.  In the Bible Love rejoices in the truth and I would say that is a solid statement.  The real problem last year with me and love is that even though I trusted in love both on the friendship side and the romantic side. The truth I couldn’t see, but should have known on my INFJ side, is that it might be true that the other side of those relationships was not feeling the love I felt at the same level. That truth, which I didn’t see, bit me in the ass.

One of the things in my recent taking of the personality test is a significant change in my introverted level.  It indicates that from this year to last year I have moved to be more introverted  75% to 94% which is pretty significant.  Truth is, my trust level of others has been pretty damaged by this whole thing. Something I might take a long time to get over as an INFJ.

Higher Virtue: Love:

People should come up to my wife and give her a big hug and tell her what a great person.  She is because of a lot of love factors. 1) Of all the people I hurt during this crisis, she had the most reason to tell me to fuck off and not come back.  But instead she did two things.  She acknowledge to me her part in the failure of our marriage and she forgave me for mine.  I started loving her anew at that moment. 2) Without her I wouldn’t have any reason to completely trust anyone other than maybe one last friend and that would have meant a lot of really bad things for me. Like dark angry shit. Without love, I think we INFJ types get mean.  Because we expect much, we get disappointed hard when love fails and that leads to some pretty extreme reactions.

My wife’s love is definitely one of only two close relationships right now that I would consider proof of my trust in other people. The rest have all been damaged because it is apparent to me with most of them the statement they claim as Christians – ‘love bears no record of wrongs’ on a practical level is bullshit. They don’t really believe it or practice it. Wish they did.  For me I gave my trust and love to some wrong people and they turned their backs on me.

Morning Routine:

  1. Review Nine Noble Virtues (NNV), Principles, Goals and Bucket List
  2. Meditation – 3 min.
  3. Check Communications and Email.
  4. Paper Journal: Create Daily Log and To Do List.
  5. Breakfast, Medications and Supplements.
  6. Shower and Personal Hygiene
  7. Get Dressed for the Day

Solid, no complaints.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard and Philosopher. The Grey Wayfarer.

Skaal!!!

Skald Tales and Poem – Poem – ‘The Scar’

Happy Saturn’s Day

“The Scar” by Edward W. Raby, Sr.  

“Time heals all wounds”

“Bullshit” I say

I have been down this road before

I have scars that still bleed inside

 

Internal bleeding of the soul

Seepage of pain within

Toxic soul-blood poisoning

Hidden behind my scars

 

The scar you left on me

Is like all the others

A covered scab

Hiding a slow bleeding wound

 

Another scar

Another badge of survival

The poison blood inside – fuel

The pain inside – motivation

Written by Edward W. Raby, Sr.  on March 15th, 2019.  Edited March 22, 2019

Author’s Commentary:

There are a lot of recent candidates for the ‘you’ in this poem.  Including the one who taught me how to appreciate and ‘enjoy’ writing poems.  In this case the quotes around ‘enjoy’ are probably stronger.  Normally a poem causes me to remember this person with a little twinge of joy and pain. This poem was one I needed to write but didn’t necessarily want to write. Mostly because it was like literally pushing on the scar in question this person had left on me, making it hurt just a little more than just a normal poem. She definitely fits the bill for ‘you’

That said, I think the ‘you’ could be several other candidates over the course of my life.  In any case the poem reflects my understanding that: 1) Scars are an illusion of healing. The wounds they hide never fully heal and often remain toxic and painful.  2) You just have to learn how to turn that toxic and hurtful nature of a wound received into fuel and motivation as you go forward. 3) Lovers and friends who betray or leave give us the most toxic and traumatic scars.  So underneath, no matter how much it looks outwardly you have moved on, they still remain a part of who you are. Even when you would wish it was not so.

Poetically, this was my first attempt in shortening my poetry.  Make the word choice more selective. Learning how to do this is a work in progress for me. As always constructive feedback on my poems is always appreciated.

Thanks for reading them,

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard and Philosopher. The Grey Wayfarer.

Skaal!!!

Crossing Bifrost – Gods and Goddesses – Thor: God of Storms

Happy Saturn’s Day

Seeing I talked about him in my post on Odin last week, I figured I would talk about Thor directly this week.  Thor – God of Thunder, God of Storms. Odin is the god of rulers and leaders.  Thor is the god of the warrior and the common man.  Even in Viking times that made him more popular.  This is probably why more stories have survived about him than any other.  People loved Thor, but they feared Odin because he was the judge of the dead, along with the Valkyrie.

Thor is probably the most well known god of the Norse pantheon today becasue of comic books and movies. He is far more likely to go on action packed adventurers in our world and so people see him doing things actively and often violently. Odin is far more subtle and a master strategist.  Thor is neither. A great example of this is when he wakes up to find his wife’s hair missing. He gets up, surmises that Loki had something to do with it and then goes and physically threaten Loki to do something about it.  Odin probably would have found a way to fix the problem himself through magic and then he would have found a way to get Loki back that was far more subtle.

Thor is the god of thunder and storms.  His wife Sif is the goddess of the earth which is a common paring in most myths.  The rain watering the earth and bringing life is a common concept and it often plays itself out in rain/storm gods being paired with earth/nature goddesses. Thor’s exploits are long but the most notable are:  He welds Mjölnir (Lightning), the hammer of the gods. He is noted for his many battles with the Giants and with the world eating snake  Jörmungand, who he will battle at the and of the world Ragnarok.

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Thor had many other powers, including healing,  He is said to be able to drink more mead and down more food than any other god. In mythology, he is not a blond but a red head.  He also possess the stereotypical hot-headed anger of the red head.  He wears a belt that doubles his already considerable strength.  If you are looking for a god that was a man’s man, then Thor is your god.  He was the kind of man you wanted along side you in battle and the kind of man you wanted to drink and party with as well. Not so oddly, he is also associated with fertility and was often evoke a blessing marriages for fertility.  But part of that reputation was earned outside of marriage with the fact he had many children and a lot of them were not Sif’s.

Image result for thor comic art

Our concept of Thor in our modern day is largely influenced by Marvel Comics.  Thor is a blond, blue eyed viking type.  The movies and the Comic make him very much the noble hero and try to lessen the fact that he was hot headed, slept around and partied like a boss. He is far more noble in the comics version, than he is in the mythology.

See the source image

That said I did like the fact that Chris Hemsworth decided to work out to play the character instead of doing the CGI muscles thing.  I think he was a good choice.  It is just our modern world isn’t ready for Thor as he was in mythology, because quite frankly he is fully masculine and makes no apologies for it.  Marvel’s Thor tends to be a little more pretty boy than masculine warrior.

The Thor of mythology is a little rough around the edges, where Marvel’s Thor is polished and presentable. You would be proud to take Marvel’s Thor home to your parents; if you were dating him, and they would think he was such a nice young man. The Thor of mythology, you might have to explain why the fridge is empty, the alcohol is all gone and perhaps why both you and your sister are knocked up with the same due date.

I guess I like characters though that have a little more of a subtle grey side.  Thor in any context doesn’t really have that.  He leaves that sort of thing to Loki. That’s why while I like Thor, I don’t consider him my favorite. Odin still has the honor of being my favorite Norse god. Thor however still inspires a lot of respect for his courage and loyalty to his friends.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard and Philosopher. The Grey Wayfarer.

Skaal!!!

Rogue Wizard – The Fire of Fury – Part 4 – Ghost Church

Happy Tyr’s Day. 

Rogue Wizard’s Journal January 7th, 2019

After two days of waiting for Lunette to show up; but she remained a no show, I finally had one of those problems that required me to leave the house. I was running out of food. So, I threw my college hooded sweatshirt over my shoulders and after gathering my wallet and my keys headed out.  Winter had finally arrived with the snow and cold; so I braced against the wind as I walked along. It jumped into the Dodge Journey and took off toward the nearest town with a Wal-Mart.

Based on what I knew, this would mean crossing the battle lines into mage territory, but it was midday and so I wasn’t to worried that the forces of mages would attack me.  They don’t like that kind of attention.  Despite this, I kept myself alert. Of course the benefit of being a battle-mage is that you carry your weapons with you at all times. No concealed weapon permit required. I went to Wal-Mart, got my groceries and a few other items and after paying, loaded the Dodge up and headed home.

There was some sort of accident; probably due to the snow and ice, on my normal route home. So the authorities were routing people different ways.  I turned on a side street long before that and took a way that was a little more circuitous but would still get me home in short order.  It was one of those roads that thirty years ago had been busy but with the freeway since was pretty abandoned.  I was driving by an old abandoned church and a strange feeling struck me.

Remember that thing about magic being drawn to magic?  That is what was happening. I could sense it.  I stopped the car and backed up into the church’s small parking lot.  The sign read ‘Faith Church” but the message in the message board of the sign said –
‘Closed’.  The snow couldn’t disguise the fact that the yard had been overgrown with weeds. There were no other buildings close by and in fact trees kind of isolated this small church with it’s small steeple on a corner of the road.  It had been painted white, but it was slipping into gray. The front doors were chained.

As I looked at the chained doors, I was thinking about how remarkably similar this church was to my last one as far as design.  Tall steeple with a sanctuary over the basement.  The little white church of song and postcards. Mine had been much larger but just as old and made of Michigan white pine.  It required constant maintenance to just keep it looking good and standing.  Expensive maintenance that I had often wondered what good could have been done to help people with all that money. Didn’t matter anymore, but this whole concept of maintaining a building sure seems to be an excuse not to help people in retrospect.

I approached the doors and looked at the lock. I could feel something drawing me to the inside, but I with the chained door I was pretty much stuck looking through the windows.  They were stained glass, so there was no way to really see inside. Then the lock popped open.  I looked twice and double checked the lock but it had been opened. The chains fell open as I removed it, and I opened the right door.

Oddly enough the inside was in pretty good repair. The entry way had its coat rack and bulletin board on which remained a couple newspaper clippings. It was the obituaries first of the last pastor of the place.  The second of a nineteen year old girl.  Date of death for both was the same day.  Then memory bank in my head awakened and I remembered the story from ten years ago.

The pastor and this young lady had been having an affair. His wife found out and threatened to tell the whole congregation if he didn’t end it.  He did end it, by committing suicide.  The girl was the one who discovered the body and she too killed herself.  Star-crossed lovers.  What a tragic and evil tale. All because of the judgmental nature of Christians, who righteousness is supposedly as filthy rags, but they had created an atmosphere of self-righteousness so strong, that the shame of what was happening was too great, so they ended their lives.

Of course my own failure at marriage fidelity flooded my memories at that moment.  The story was similar, but the end very different.  I guess the difference was I left my faith behind. The judgmental nature of supposed sinners who bask in the forgiveness of God when given to them; but then turn around and judge harshly other sinners is a hypocrisy I simply dismiss as no longer part of my life.  The anger of all that was welling inside me; however, and I could feel the fury building my magical rage.

With that thought a voice spoke behind me.

“Tragic isn’t it?”

I turned around expecting to see some caretaker, but instead I saw a ghost. A literal ghost. Well, two actually.   The first looked like a middle-aged gentleman in a suit and tie. He had glasses and in his free hand was a Bible.  His other hand held the hand of a young beautiful woman.  She was in a dress and had a flower in her hair.  Colors are difficult with ghosts, as they are usually white and various shades of grey.  The flower in her hair however was red and gold indicating it was something special to her.  She smiled at me.  Of course they were both partially transparent, as I could see coat rack behind them

Now I have met ghosts before. Most of them are pretty harmless; just souls with some unfinished business.  I of course had that first moment of queasy stomach knowing you talking to someone dead,  then I was OK.

“Actually, I was thinking about how my own story is pretty close to yours, only without the ending.”

“Yes, that ending could have been different.  What is commonly known is not even true. We were actually found naked in each others arms.  We had made love one last time before taking the pills. They left that out; changed the whole story actually. That and the fact were found up on the pulpit on a blanket on the floor.  One last ‘desecration’ they wanted to forget by not talking about it.  What you probably know is false.  That tends to be the way of things.”

I smirked as I recognized the sarcasm in his voice; so similar to my own.  He chuckled and as I looked at the girl, she looked down and had her cheeks been able to show color they might have shown a little blush.

“Don’t worry about it young lady.  You were in love and had nothing to be ashamed of in truth. I don’t get it though, what’s the unfinished business both of you could have?”

The girl spoke this time.  Her voice was a soft soprano, I could tell she must have sung in the choir.

“We are were not sure for a long time. My mother and his wife are still alive. Both of us had harsh last words with them, but it doesn’t explain it.  Although if it is the reason then when they die, we might fade but we no longer think so.  We felt you drive by and now know what it is.”

“Me.  I don’t recall meeting either of you in life.”

The man spoke this time.

“Basically Dickens and his ghost Marley in a Christmas Carol.  One last act of penance to someone who needs our message.  We know now that someone is you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, we know your story, it was heavy on your thoughts a few moment ago. That fury inside you is very powerful. It needs release or it will consume you, like our love consumed us. The fire it creates burns everything and if you don’t find a target outside yourself to direct it towards…. ”

The girls voice was hauntingly beautiful as she spoke.   I nodded at her words.

“My fury is directed at those who have lied about me and at the Council for killing my wife when we were just beginning to love each other deeply again.  In part, I suppose it is fueled by my loneliness and the thoughts of a few treacherous actions I want justice for.  Christianity’s ‘turn the other cheek’ seems very stupid when it comes to justice.”

The man spoke this time.

“Yes, it does cause people to be abused and shamed then justify those that do it to them. Understand we are not saying your fury is bad; just dangerous. Our message to you is a little more centered on letting go of the past, so you can focus that fire of your fury at a proper target now and not at yourself.”

I nodded.  I knew what he meant. My rage was mostly self-destructive right now.  It didn’t create any positive action.  The only positive effect is that it fueled my magic with tremendous power. But where to focus that power?

“You said you had a message for me, each of you.  What is it?”

“You first my dear,” the man said.

“I speak to you as a woman with a woman’s heart. This last year you have loved two women deeply.  One hurt you and the other forgave you.  I want to submit to you that the one that hurt you might have done you a tremendous favor.  You may very well have avoided a lot of rage directed at you and her because of her choice to leave you.  I don’t know her, but I know it crossed my mind more than once to leave; so we could live and maybe love again.  It might have been her motivation.  She may have been the smart one on the decision, because you couldn’t be. If there is a need for forgiveness that will help you and not upset your sense of justice; it is probably to forgive her.”

Tears poured down my cheeks.  The truth of what she said made it hurt again, but her words rang true, and I had made a commitment to the truth. As I  looked at the ghost girl I saw her start to fade.  She had been right.  Her unfinished business was her message to me.

The man looked at her.

“Go my dear, I will be along shortly.”

I watched as the girl completely disappeared.  Then he looked at me.  He looked like he was about to cry himself.

“My message is man to man. I have learned the folly of worrying too much about what people will think of me.  I paid for that with my foolish death. The only honor that matters is what you have for yourself. Remember that, when opinion is against you for doing the right thing or even for just following your heart.  Your honor is within you, it is not the product of whether other people respect you or not. Had I known that, the two of us might still be alive.”

I nodded again and then he too began to fade.

“Looks like we were right.”

“Thank you, both of you.”

He nodded and faded out of sight.  Now the church foyer had a truly empty feeling. Whatever spirit this little church had left and now passed on to the other side.  It was indeed abandoned now.  Kind of a metaphor for my faith in truth. I walked out,  padlocked the chains back in place, and then went home.

I don’t know what the future will hold, but I do know that the lessons those two ghosts taught me are going to be with me for a bit.

Author’s Note: You will notice that the dates for the journals are now slipping into the past.  This is by design as one of the magical forms my character uses is divination. The ability to see the future is part of that. From an authorship stand point that means using twenty- twenty hindsight instead.  There will be times where nothing is happening, and the time line used here can catch up, but I am going to keep it at leas a month into the past from now on to reflect the characters powers.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard and Philosopher. The Grey Wayfarer.

Skaal!!!

 

Skald Tales and Poems – Poem – “Soul Blood”

Happy Moon’s Day

“Soul Blood”

I remember in the heat of summer,

where blood poured from my soul.

Wounds received from terrible blades

from the front, behind and within.

 

Shades of crimson flecked with gold

Pooling beneath my feet and pouring over my hands

As they tried to stop the bleeding.

Vainly they tried.

 

Weak I was on my knees

Destroyed and anemic

My heart slowing

Empty, alone, dying

 

Echos of the voices that wielded the blades – mocking me

A good friend becomes betrayer

A lover becomes a stranger

My own silent faith, echoing in my ears.

 

For days I bled, with no hope.

Until the one I betrayed saw my wounds

She did not raise her own blade in vengeance

Rather she touched my soul with her healing hand.

 

The bleeding stopped just in time.

Her own soul blood poured into me and restored my soul

She closed the wounds with stitches of compassion

I now bleed no more.

 

The scars remain forever

Reminders of who wasn’t true.

But my soul’s blood pumps strong once more

Reminding me of she who became my Eir

A Poem by Edward W. Raby, Sr. – January 14th, 2019

Author Notes:

O have written this poem over the last week or so.  Finishing it on the 14th of January 2019.

In this poem I have been trying to capture the feelings of the month of August 2018.  Feelings that are strong and were at the time devastating. I came up with the title of soul-blood as a way describe it.  I then ran with the concept.

Emotionally this was difficult as one as on the one hand every time I write a poem I am reminded of the person who helped me understand and write them better.  “Lover becomes a stranger” is her line and it still hurts to think on it.  The scar throbs when I write a poem because of her, so to speak.

One the other hand, I have for the first time ever in this poem truly used my wife as an inspiration for the poem.  She is my Eir.  Eir being the Valkyrie known for her healing ability.  My wife became my Eir that month.  She has been so ever since and of all people she had the least reason to take on that role.  The Valkyrie I waited for at the time was her in the end.

Hope you enjoy this poem and I always appreciate comments on my poems as I still am very new to this.

Thanks for reading,

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard and Philosopher. The Grey Wayfarer.

Skaal!!!