Journey To Eunomia
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Yet herein is danger, for that the Mind is fluid as quicksilver, and bordereth upon the Abyss, and is beset by many sirens and devils that seduce and attack to destroy it. (Crowley)
Had I never dwelt upon my espoused faithfulness in all my journeys to and from the Village of Eunomia, I would not have buffered myself against all manner of temptation. And yet this time as we reach the halfway point through Gloumenwood, I am suddenly relieved to feel the weight of my guilt's burden grow lighter and lighter, the further I am from Alexandra.
Yet I must not give in to the temptation that plods along more slowly behind me, and so I keep my pace without appearing to give much concern for Bryony's lagging footsteps.
"You have a natural affinity for.. your possessions. It makes you weak." This I had told her when she fell into mourning and a form of mental self-flagellation over her dead horse. Calliope, she had named the mare.. had fallen prey to one of the giant spiders that hunt the Gloumenwood. Spooked, the horse had gone running off, only to become ensnared in a web of tensile silk and eventually spun into a cocoon so tight that she had no hope of escape.
Bryony had urged me into foolishness, trying to save the mare from destruction. For she has this misplaced hope, I suppose like any other woman, that there is a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow as reward for all hard effort and long suffering. In the end, her horse would die.. with or without any valiant heroics on my part. With or without Bryony's tears and remorse.
Later it was her turn to pry into me.
Had I never dwelt upon my espoused faithfulness in all my journeys to and from the Village of Eunomia, I would not have buffered myself against all manner of temptation. And yet this time as we reach the halfway point through Gloumenwood, I am suddenly relieved to feel the weight of my guilt's burden grow lighter and lighter, the further I am from Alexandra.
Yet I must not give in to the temptation that plods along more slowly behind me, and so I keep my pace without appearing to give much concern for Bryony's lagging footsteps.
"You have a natural affinity for.. your possessions. It makes you weak." This I had told her when she fell into mourning and a form of mental self-flagellation over her dead horse. Calliope, she had named the mare.. had fallen prey to one of the giant spiders that hunt the Gloumenwood. Spooked, the horse had gone running off, only to become ensnared in a web of tensile silk and eventually spun into a cocoon so tight that she had no hope of escape.
Bryony had urged me into foolishness, trying to save the mare from destruction. For she has this misplaced hope, I suppose like any other woman, that there is a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow as reward for all hard effort and long suffering. In the end, her horse would die.. with or without any valiant heroics on my part. With or without Bryony's tears and remorse.
Later it was her turn to pry into me.
Labels: Bryony, Bryony de Rose, Druid, Necromancer, Storyteller's Triquetra, The Triquetra, Triquetra, Vale, Vale of the Enclave, Warlock, Warrick, Warrick Erebus
