Pronunciation Guide
Hiruko = Hee-roo-koh
Kamui = Kah-moo-ee
Sisina = See-see-nah
Anthea = Ahn-thee-ah
Elsi = Ehl-see
Ishley = Eesh-ley
Sedrik = Seh-dreek
Nikolai = Nee-koh-leye
Isabu = Ee-sah-boo
Gwyneth = Gween-eth
The Love Lily
The Love Lily bloomed with fragrant feelings and rippling magic. The little flower was full of delicate emotions, tenderness and a distant promise to be fulfilled one age. During that age, that promise would shape the outcome of all fates.
The wizard slowly created her wondrous magic. She was not an illusionary wizard, not at all. She was a master of the mystical, the weird, the arcane, the uncanny. She was also, however, a shapeshifter, clothed in darkness and mystery.
His cloak was spun of celestial feathers, allowing him to transcend and become eternal, although only for a short while. For every magic harmonizer knew of the dangers of shapeshifting. Without a determined and steadfast willpower, an unwary wizard could become an animal or other being entirely, and literally forget oneself.
Yet this wizard possessed great mental and spiritual strength, as she had once flown as a raven for many nights without rest. That fateful night, her mission had been critically urgent: a quest of the utmost importance. A quest through shadow and light, though fire and water, through moonbeams and starbeams, far, far away from all she knew.
This night, too, required the same quest. It was not enough, though. Never, ever enough for this wizard.
A flower had been placed long ago in a delicate crystal vial, a symbol of a distant promise. The flower was from so long ago even the wizard could not remember how long it had been since their first meeting. Yet he could not find his love. Had she hidden it away so deep within her essence that those feelings were impossible to find?
A tenebrous light fell across the wizard’s fragile face from the wide stone window above his den. She stared somnolently at the darkening, dusky light as it darkly illuminated her pale face. Her hair hung in wild brown strands, all the way down to her waist-length braid. Her cloak was nondescript, but glittered softly with secret magic. Her feet were bare on the warm earthen floor of the den.
Would her beloved accept the flower? Her faith was such a mighty and fragile thing, as fragile as the flower crystallized by their blossoming love.
All she could do was transform, and fly swiftly. Yet why did she hesitate?
It had been so easy, so laughably easy, to shapeshift and fly on dark wings, to carefully grasp the flower stem in her beak as she rode the roaring wind.
The wizard gently reached into herself and sang a song for love from her inner soul music. It was a haunting, rippling, undulating, even euphonic melody, curving and growing as beautifully as the crystallized flower sitting on the floor beside her. She waited and waited, for what seemed like an agonizing eternity. Then, softly, faintly, a returning, reverberating echo enriched her soul, carrying with it the answer she so desperately needed, yet always knew.
Yes. I promise I love you as you are, my beloved, always and forever. The wizard allowed her face to crack, to break into a wondrous smile as a warm, glowing light burned in her dark eyes.
The wizard reached into the darkness beside her and took out the shadow of an immense raven. Her eyes gleamed like twin flames of gold in the darkness as she flung the shadow around herself, the feathers molding themselves to her body, enshrouding her into metamorphosis.
It seemed, then, that the flower in the crystal was a beautiful butterfly awaiting freedom from her ancient crystalis. The wizard broke the crystal with her beak, freeing the flower at long last, and, holding it gently by the stem, glided to the carved rock window.
Then she was aireborne, free as the tempestuous wind surrounding her, heartbeat synchronizing with her smoothly flapping wings as she angled her streamlined body towards the formidable lake before her.
The night became a living, breathing, palpitating being around the wizard, enfolding her in dreamy darkness and tempestuous wind. Yet no moon or stars shone, for they were veiled by umbrageous clouds so massive that they became one sprawling, secretive landscape above her. It was as if she was flying upside down, and the clouds themselves were vast black plains of flashing lightning close below her. Though it did not rain, the wind was a forceful gale, and she gracefully, gently, carefully flew through the whirlshade wind.
The maiden awakened suddenly in the night, and silently stared out of her tower window, seeing, yet not seeing, knowing yet not knowing, dreaming yet awakening. Her memory mirror behind her began to ripple, like the surface of a suddenly windy pool of deep water. The reflections on the mirror were from her own memories, flashes of clarity in a chaotic whirlshade. Next to the mirror, the silent crystal statue of a mysterious girl gave no secrets.
So much was different, so much had transformed their lives, or had their lives transformed them? They were still children, really, yet somehow both innocent and mature.
A sudden horror seized the maiden’s heartstone, and she flung herself back into sleep, desperately seeking somnolent solace.
She awoke again to a fiery, conflagration dawn tinged with crimson. Yet one single glance outside revealed her deep terror of the night was no simple nightmare easily escapable.
A Love Lily floated silently, sorrowfully upon the burning water reflecting both the gloriously tremendous fierful sky and the lucidly dark depths of the lake.
The maiden snatched the memory mirror, which chimed softly, sadly, ominously as she shoved it into her cloak. She then slipped her silver flute into her cloak, and with a swift incantation she grew her hair long and thick and tangled on the floor. With her heartstone beating rapidly, hoping and wishing with all her essence, she tied her hair to the window and dropped quietly to the soft, earthy ground. Her bare feet were pleasantly cool, and her cloak blew in the breeze of early morning, yet her heartstone was only intent upon purifying the fear entangling her thoughts.
She pondered pensively as she rescued the floating flower why she had never awakened so abruptly in the dead of night before. Had she been dreaming of the truth? She paused then, holding the Lily close awhile before raising her head to stare along the rocky dangerous beach.
The maiden cried aloud at what she saw there, pinned by twin watery boulders, rocking listlessly along with the tide’s eternal rhythm on the silent shore. Heedless of the sharp stones and other hidden dangers she fairly flew to the twin boulders, and anxiously lifted the half submerged body from the fiery water. Her heartstone pounded out a terrible harmony: Too Late, Too Late, Too Late. The maiden carefully turned the body over to face upwards, and gazed hopelessly, desolately, grievously into her beloved’s sightless, unblinking wide eyes.
All of the wizard’s memories had been dragged away, wiped clean by the lethal Lake of Unknowing, all gone, no more, too late.
The Love Lily in the maiden’ hand suddenly grew and grew, unfolding and awakening as a wondrous, winged child. The newborn lethargically stretched her fuzzy, feathery wings and yawned cavernously like a tiny kitten. She heard the maiden slowly singing a sorrowful song from soul music. The song traced wide rhythmic ripples along the lake, fishing for lost memories. Fragments gradually attached to the strands of song, equally slowly, bit by bit, piece by piece, shard by shard.
The newborn scrambled curiously here and there and played sleepily with her mother’s carefully tied strands of hair. What the child observed on the beach puzzled her immensely, though she smiled innocently with delight as the memory fragments glittered and shimmered on the lake surface like precious iridescent gemstones made of crystal.
Stray flower petals fluttered whimsically on a fresh, clear breeze. A few more petals spun round as the newborn shook herself and stretched again, dislodging even more petals from her body in the process. She glided gracefully yet clumsily upwards and downwards until the dewy grass tickled the soles of her tiny feet.
Almost all of the memory fragments now surrounded the maiden, though one remained missing. The newborn knew where that memory was immediately, and collected the palpitating fragment from between the twisted tangled roots of the tower curling serpentine towards the water’s undulating edge. The tower, it seemed, was a tower no longer, and had become a magnificent cherry blossom, flowering in the fantastical fire of the scarlet sunrise.
The journey would be extremely difficult, even painful, but the maiden needed to accept the truth without fleeing, and their quest was simply something they must do. The maiden had never once left the tower without leaving her hair connected to the window frame, yet as she gazed at the newborn, her hair quietly slipped free. The newborn held her hand comfortingly as the memory mirror chimed again, then once more, rippling through all. Their journey, their quest, their life began as all life begins.
They began with a name: Isabu.
The name floated serenely
Ripples echoed in and out, breathing
The Reservoir, undulating, unified all universally
Memories connected, former fragments reunited, yet hesitantly, uncertainly
Two beings called that name, full of love, hope, light, joy
Isabu began to become whole once more
Such overwhelming memories remained locked within her heart
Another name slipped free, carrying with it a stream of emotions
Feelings, whirling around, dizzying, disorientating, discombobulating
Yet one remained crystalline:
Unconditional love for her beloved Gwyneth, all beyond memory, thought, and identity
More memories emerged from the inner depths, the inner silence and calmness
Holding each other softly, deepening darkness within their energy egg
Twins, curled up together, as cute as kittens
Then came awakening light, transforming into sustenance
Gazing new eyes knowing the true beauty of Mythaven
The Love Lily began life as a crystal seedling
Slowly, steadily, silently growing between the twins, age by age
They discovered their true names nesting quietly within themselves: Isabu and Gwyneth
They discovered nicknames, even, childish and innocent: Teru and Imori
They relearned important wisdom about their world
They relearned what had been forgotten and what must always be remembered
Learning, questioning, answering, many mysterious, mystical musings, for by believing, one sees
Later on, as they and the Lily grew as one, they transformed from newborns to children
Their childhood was full of exploring the many secrets hidden within the tower
Many long nights were spent discovering new ideas and unknown treasure
Many long ages were spent playing together and becoming powerful within their own soul music
Their childhood passed fleetingly, blissfully, joyfully by living what they loved best
Isabu learned much wisdom and magical arts, while Gwyneth learned of her dragon legacy
Yet the Love Lily, too, continued to grow, little by little
Gwyneth and Isabu awoke each morning
Purified by the twin suns’ crimson golden light
At night, they dreamed of clarity
Bestowed by the twin moons’ white silvery light
Each age was different, full of unique ideas and new perspectives
Special adventures small and colossal all at once
What is essential can only be seen by the heart
Yet Isabu had to learn that truth differently then Gwyneth
As they matured and grew together, so did the Love Lily
Gwyneth knowingly helped Isabu depart to a small cave
Isabu made many voyages from the cave to the tower and back again
That cave near a necessary willow tree would one age become an Aonmaihu cave
There in the umbrageous primal darkness, the shadows cloaking her in warmth and silence
Isabu allowed herself to be herself: receiving Gwyneth’s loving call
She transformed into that wondrous raven, cloaked celestially
Endeavouring to complete one last journey back to her beloved
Though the night born raven flew bravely through that fiercesome storm
The storm overwhelmed her completely, falling into the elusively created Lake of Lethe
Though wizard and dragon maiden were separated
The Love Lily allowed a fateful reunion on the rocky shoreline during dawn
Isabu and Gwyneth awakened from their memory quest, full of effulgent glory of the twin suns
As they lay there joyously on the shimmering sandy shore
Hiruko = Hee-roo-koh
Kamui = Kah-moo-ee
Sisina = See-see-nah
Anthea = Ahn-thee-ah
Elsi = Ehl-see
Ishley = Eesh-ley
Sedrik = Seh-dreek
Nikolai = Nee-koh-leye
Isabu = Ee-sah-boo
Gwyneth = Gween-eth
The Love Lily
The Love Lily bloomed with fragrant feelings and rippling magic. The little flower was full of delicate emotions, tenderness and a distant promise to be fulfilled one age. During that age, that promise would shape the outcome of all fates.
The wizard slowly created her wondrous magic. She was not an illusionary wizard, not at all. She was a master of the mystical, the weird, the arcane, the uncanny. She was also, however, a shapeshifter, clothed in darkness and mystery.
His cloak was spun of celestial feathers, allowing him to transcend and become eternal, although only for a short while. For every magic harmonizer knew of the dangers of shapeshifting. Without a determined and steadfast willpower, an unwary wizard could become an animal or other being entirely, and literally forget oneself.
Yet this wizard possessed great mental and spiritual strength, as she had once flown as a raven for many nights without rest. That fateful night, her mission had been critically urgent: a quest of the utmost importance. A quest through shadow and light, though fire and water, through moonbeams and starbeams, far, far away from all she knew.
This night, too, required the same quest. It was not enough, though. Never, ever enough for this wizard.
A flower had been placed long ago in a delicate crystal vial, a symbol of a distant promise. The flower was from so long ago even the wizard could not remember how long it had been since their first meeting. Yet he could not find his love. Had she hidden it away so deep within her essence that those feelings were impossible to find?
A tenebrous light fell across the wizard’s fragile face from the wide stone window above his den. She stared somnolently at the darkening, dusky light as it darkly illuminated her pale face. Her hair hung in wild brown strands, all the way down to her waist-length braid. Her cloak was nondescript, but glittered softly with secret magic. Her feet were bare on the warm earthen floor of the den.
Would her beloved accept the flower? Her faith was such a mighty and fragile thing, as fragile as the flower crystallized by their blossoming love.
All she could do was transform, and fly swiftly. Yet why did she hesitate?
It had been so easy, so laughably easy, to shapeshift and fly on dark wings, to carefully grasp the flower stem in her beak as she rode the roaring wind.
The wizard gently reached into herself and sang a song for love from her inner soul music. It was a haunting, rippling, undulating, even euphonic melody, curving and growing as beautifully as the crystallized flower sitting on the floor beside her. She waited and waited, for what seemed like an agonizing eternity. Then, softly, faintly, a returning, reverberating echo enriched her soul, carrying with it the answer she so desperately needed, yet always knew.
Yes. I promise I love you as you are, my beloved, always and forever. The wizard allowed her face to crack, to break into a wondrous smile as a warm, glowing light burned in her dark eyes.
The wizard reached into the darkness beside her and took out the shadow of an immense raven. Her eyes gleamed like twin flames of gold in the darkness as she flung the shadow around herself, the feathers molding themselves to her body, enshrouding her into metamorphosis.
It seemed, then, that the flower in the crystal was a beautiful butterfly awaiting freedom from her ancient crystalis. The wizard broke the crystal with her beak, freeing the flower at long last, and, holding it gently by the stem, glided to the carved rock window.
Then she was aireborne, free as the tempestuous wind surrounding her, heartbeat synchronizing with her smoothly flapping wings as she angled her streamlined body towards the formidable lake before her.
The night became a living, breathing, palpitating being around the wizard, enfolding her in dreamy darkness and tempestuous wind. Yet no moon or stars shone, for they were veiled by umbrageous clouds so massive that they became one sprawling, secretive landscape above her. It was as if she was flying upside down, and the clouds themselves were vast black plains of flashing lightning close below her. Though it did not rain, the wind was a forceful gale, and she gracefully, gently, carefully flew through the whirlshade wind.
The maiden awakened suddenly in the night, and silently stared out of her tower window, seeing, yet not seeing, knowing yet not knowing, dreaming yet awakening. Her memory mirror behind her began to ripple, like the surface of a suddenly windy pool of deep water. The reflections on the mirror were from her own memories, flashes of clarity in a chaotic whirlshade. Next to the mirror, the silent crystal statue of a mysterious girl gave no secrets.
So much was different, so much had transformed their lives, or had their lives transformed them? They were still children, really, yet somehow both innocent and mature.
A sudden horror seized the maiden’s heartstone, and she flung herself back into sleep, desperately seeking somnolent solace.
She awoke again to a fiery, conflagration dawn tinged with crimson. Yet one single glance outside revealed her deep terror of the night was no simple nightmare easily escapable.
A Love Lily floated silently, sorrowfully upon the burning water reflecting both the gloriously tremendous fierful sky and the lucidly dark depths of the lake.
The maiden snatched the memory mirror, which chimed softly, sadly, ominously as she shoved it into her cloak. She then slipped her silver flute into her cloak, and with a swift incantation she grew her hair long and thick and tangled on the floor. With her heartstone beating rapidly, hoping and wishing with all her essence, she tied her hair to the window and dropped quietly to the soft, earthy ground. Her bare feet were pleasantly cool, and her cloak blew in the breeze of early morning, yet her heartstone was only intent upon purifying the fear entangling her thoughts.
She pondered pensively as she rescued the floating flower why she had never awakened so abruptly in the dead of night before. Had she been dreaming of the truth? She paused then, holding the Lily close awhile before raising her head to stare along the rocky dangerous beach.
The maiden cried aloud at what she saw there, pinned by twin watery boulders, rocking listlessly along with the tide’s eternal rhythm on the silent shore. Heedless of the sharp stones and other hidden dangers she fairly flew to the twin boulders, and anxiously lifted the half submerged body from the fiery water. Her heartstone pounded out a terrible harmony: Too Late, Too Late, Too Late. The maiden carefully turned the body over to face upwards, and gazed hopelessly, desolately, grievously into her beloved’s sightless, unblinking wide eyes.
All of the wizard’s memories had been dragged away, wiped clean by the lethal Lake of Unknowing, all gone, no more, too late.
The Love Lily in the maiden’ hand suddenly grew and grew, unfolding and awakening as a wondrous, winged child. The newborn lethargically stretched her fuzzy, feathery wings and yawned cavernously like a tiny kitten. She heard the maiden slowly singing a sorrowful song from soul music. The song traced wide rhythmic ripples along the lake, fishing for lost memories. Fragments gradually attached to the strands of song, equally slowly, bit by bit, piece by piece, shard by shard.
The newborn scrambled curiously here and there and played sleepily with her mother’s carefully tied strands of hair. What the child observed on the beach puzzled her immensely, though she smiled innocently with delight as the memory fragments glittered and shimmered on the lake surface like precious iridescent gemstones made of crystal.
Stray flower petals fluttered whimsically on a fresh, clear breeze. A few more petals spun round as the newborn shook herself and stretched again, dislodging even more petals from her body in the process. She glided gracefully yet clumsily upwards and downwards until the dewy grass tickled the soles of her tiny feet.
Almost all of the memory fragments now surrounded the maiden, though one remained missing. The newborn knew where that memory was immediately, and collected the palpitating fragment from between the twisted tangled roots of the tower curling serpentine towards the water’s undulating edge. The tower, it seemed, was a tower no longer, and had become a magnificent cherry blossom, flowering in the fantastical fire of the scarlet sunrise.
The journey would be extremely difficult, even painful, but the maiden needed to accept the truth without fleeing, and their quest was simply something they must do. The maiden had never once left the tower without leaving her hair connected to the window frame, yet as she gazed at the newborn, her hair quietly slipped free. The newborn held her hand comfortingly as the memory mirror chimed again, then once more, rippling through all. Their journey, their quest, their life began as all life begins.
They began with a name: Isabu.
The name floated serenely
Ripples echoed in and out, breathing
The Reservoir, undulating, unified all universally
Memories connected, former fragments reunited, yet hesitantly, uncertainly
Two beings called that name, full of love, hope, light, joy
Isabu began to become whole once more
Such overwhelming memories remained locked within her heart
Another name slipped free, carrying with it a stream of emotions
Feelings, whirling around, dizzying, disorientating, discombobulating
Yet one remained crystalline:
Unconditional love for her beloved Gwyneth, all beyond memory, thought, and identity
More memories emerged from the inner depths, the inner silence and calmness
Holding each other softly, deepening darkness within their energy egg
Twins, curled up together, as cute as kittens
Then came awakening light, transforming into sustenance
Gazing new eyes knowing the true beauty of Mythaven
The Love Lily began life as a crystal seedling
Slowly, steadily, silently growing between the twins, age by age
They discovered their true names nesting quietly within themselves: Isabu and Gwyneth
They discovered nicknames, even, childish and innocent: Teru and Imori
They relearned important wisdom about their world
They relearned what had been forgotten and what must always be remembered
Learning, questioning, answering, many mysterious, mystical musings, for by believing, one sees
Later on, as they and the Lily grew as one, they transformed from newborns to children
Their childhood was full of exploring the many secrets hidden within the tower
Many long nights were spent discovering new ideas and unknown treasure
Many long ages were spent playing together and becoming powerful within their own soul music
Their childhood passed fleetingly, blissfully, joyfully by living what they loved best
Isabu learned much wisdom and magical arts, while Gwyneth learned of her dragon legacy
Yet the Love Lily, too, continued to grow, little by little
Gwyneth and Isabu awoke each morning
Purified by the twin suns’ crimson golden light
At night, they dreamed of clarity
Bestowed by the twin moons’ white silvery light
Each age was different, full of unique ideas and new perspectives
Special adventures small and colossal all at once
What is essential can only be seen by the heart
Yet Isabu had to learn that truth differently then Gwyneth
As they matured and grew together, so did the Love Lily
Gwyneth knowingly helped Isabu depart to a small cave
Isabu made many voyages from the cave to the tower and back again
That cave near a necessary willow tree would one age become an Aonmaihu cave
There in the umbrageous primal darkness, the shadows cloaking her in warmth and silence
Isabu allowed herself to be herself: receiving Gwyneth’s loving call
She transformed into that wondrous raven, cloaked celestially
Endeavouring to complete one last journey back to her beloved
Though the night born raven flew bravely through that fiercesome storm
The storm overwhelmed her completely, falling into the elusively created Lake of Lethe
Though wizard and dragon maiden were separated
The Love Lily allowed a fateful reunion on the rocky shoreline during dawn
Isabu and Gwyneth awakened from their memory quest, full of effulgent glory of the twin suns
As they lay there joyously on the shimmering sandy shore
