Through the third door, Godric saw before him a colorful garden of various and profuse flowers, roses, tiger lilies, day lilies, chrysanthemums of myriad colors, and numerous flowers whose names he didn’t know. There were trees growing throughout the garden, and in the distance he saw a young woman gathering flowers. Godric thought she seemed oblivious to his presence; he was mistaken, for the woman looked up from her task, put her bouquet of flowers down, and walked to where Godric was standing.
“Welcome, Prince Godric. It has taken you some time to get here.” It was not a question but a statement. She brushed some pollen off her green dress. Her eyes were also green, her lips a kind of perfect red bow. She smiled fetchingly at him. “I shall be your guide through this garden, if that is acceptable to you.” Her golden brown hair fell about her shoulders.
Godric found himself speechless before the beautiful young woman and simply nodded.
She laughed a gay laugh and turned toward a small grove of trees. Voices singing in a complicated harmony echoed softly from the trees while a light breeze caressed his face.
“I’m to guide you to the one you have come to see. She awaits you on the other side of the stream that waters this garden.”
“Elesandra?” Godric managed to ask.
“No. She’s not the one? The Princess on the other side of the mirror was only a reflection of your desire, an image of your own making. Like the Siren on the mountain.”
[Whoa now! Hold on here. Sorry to interrupt, but we have just spent 20 chapters following Godric as he worked his way toward the courtship of that lovely Princess, Elesandra, whom we all saw in that distant castle tower. Now we find out that she is not real, only a projection of the Prince’s desire. I’m not certain I would have embarked on this ship if I had known the truth about the port we were moving toward.
Out of the lovely music playing in my head, a voice sounded: How can you know the truth about this story without sailing to the proper end? You know only one thing, and you would ignorantly ground you vessel without reaching the real end, the proper port to use your analogy? Just because this moment displeases you? Please!
Who said that? Where’s that voice coming from? I am beginning to think that telling a tale is a dangerous undertaking. Who knows where it might lead eventually? There are other forces at work here, and I don’t mean the Wizard King and his sidekick! I’m not sure I like that!
Whether you like it or not, your time is up!
And so I found that it was, for the moment!]
“What Siren on the mountain? I don’t remember a Siren.”
“She’s from a distant place, but you have met her; only you almost failed to recognize her.”
“The picnic?”
“Indeed, though she usually only appears when you are the most tired and inattentive.”
Godric followed the lady toward the trees, wherein he saw a brief flash of color, blue and white and gold, slip deeper into the grove of trees.
“Did you see that?” The Prince asked, slowing down a bit. “It looked like a beast of some sort!”
“Yes,” said the lady. “He’s the owner of this land. All lands, actually.”
“Is it safe to enter among the trees?”
The lady laughed again, and this time it sounded like bells in the distance, ahead of the music.
“Safe to enter here. Yes, it’s safe to enter, depending mostly on your attitude.”
“But is the beast safe?”
“That’s almost another matter precisely. I would say he’s good, but he is definitely not safe. Not at all safe.” The voices in the air grew more complicated and more intense. It sounded to Godric as if they were singing hallelujah.
“Will we be safe?” Here the lady stopped and looked directly into his eyes. “That depends on you primarily; he knows our names.”
“Our names? You know my name. What is your name?”
She smiled at Godric, whose heart nearly melted.
“I thought you would never ask, Sir Prince. My name is Primavera. Vera, if you wish. In one of the languages that you know, “Vera” means truth. So, can you trust me or not? Again, that depends on you.”
If she is as beautiful within as without, I shall have no trouble trusting her, thought Godric. But how to know for certain. Beauty has betrayed me before.
Godric responded: “I have no trouble trusting ‘truth.’ Thus, I have no trouble trusting you in this time, no trouble at all. However, I’m a not so certain about your beast, though. He sounds rather scary.”
“He’s not my beast,” said Vera. “It would be more accurate to say I am his. In fact, that’s why I am here. He sent me to the field of flowers.”
“To gather flowers?”
“He sent me to gather something. He didn’t actually specify. He said I would know.”
“I see. And here I am, being gathered I suppose?”
They had reached the edge of the grove of trees. Godric looked ahead and saw a glint of gold disappearing further up and further in. He shook loose his apprehensions and walked beside Primavera into the grove. She extended her hand to him; he took it and thought how how soft and yet strong it felt. He thought he would probably follow her anywhere.
“The stream is about a hundred yards ahead. If you listen carefully, you can hear its gentle voice in the music.”
Godric listened, but he wasn’t sure he could tell the sound of the flowing stream in the music echoing through the trees. As he concentrated, he saw an old man with a fairly large book and a pen in his hands cross the path in front of him and Vera. The old man looked at them, smiled, but kept going. Godric saw a faraway look in his eyes, as though the old man was seeing things that only he could see.
“Who was that? How many others are here as well?”
“That was Jacob, one of the keepers of this land. He’s like a prophet, a visionary. He sees distant things and records them in his book. There is one other whom we are likely to see as well. His name is Peter, the gatekeeper; I’ve found him to be rather severe, good but severe. If you meet him and he asks you a question, answer quickly and honestly.”
“I always try to respond honestly, truthfully. I think one of the greatest evils in our time is the lie. The lie conceals us, hides our real self from others and even from ourselves.”
The hundred yards went by quickly, Godric thought, as he and Vera reached the stream in amongst the trees. As the sunlight shone down on the stream through the trees, the gently flowing water scattered the light into myriads of tiny bright reflections like the numerous stars in the skies. He still held the lady’s hand and thought he might never let go. Just as he had that thought he saw the vision on the other side of the stream. Stepping out of a circle of light was a young woman who looked exactly like Primavera, except instead of golden brown her hair was black, but it also fell about her shoulders.
Godric saw slight movement to her right and a glimpse of gold among the trees. He looked again at the young lady who smiled at him. “She looks as though she could be your sister,” he said.
“She is my sister. You’ve met her before in your journey, though she wasn’t quite the same as you see her here.”
“It’s Raissa,” said Godric. “I thought she was a dream figure, demon-haunted. She’s real. She healed me from the wound and the fever. Why is she on the other side of the stream?”
“Because you and she are not there yet.”
“Not where? Where do we have to be?”
“This is the most real place there is, but it’s not the place where you and she are meant to be just yet. You glimpsed the Gryphon in the trees. You and she must eventually find your way back here through him. I am she here and out there; she is me over there. Confusing, I know, but I will show you the way to that reality. For now, it’s time to go. Be safe!”
Still holding his hand, the lady Primavera turned him around. Godric glanced over his shoulder, trying for a last look at Raissa, but it was not to be. There was a vision blue and white and gold before his eyes; then he found himself alone in the hall of the Wizard’s castle; well, not exactly alone since Philip was there too, perched on a large mirror at the end of the hall.
“Hi, Boss! Glad you made it out! I think it’s time to eat. I’m so hungry I could eat a River Troll and not feel full.”
Godric laughed. “Good to find you too, but first we have business to take care of.”
Image: Raissa? One hopes!
