Memories of Love

Time and space meant nothing to him, but Jorn knew that his timing – was all.

The men waited. Jorn attuned his quieter senses to his approaching fate. Like a mountain lion in repose, he was primed, fit, and calmly ready to respond. They all were.

He was contemplating what was beyond the twilight. And the edge. He was also thinking of Sera. Was she alive? Was I? Moments before, he felt death approaching as he fell from the ridge to the now named Lucky ledge that stopped his breath and postponed his final ascent.

His heart was scarred granite, carrying memories of love and the strength of a thousand sky gods armed with murderous bolts of electric light. His devotion made him ready – for anything. But what?

"I am song ... I am ocean ... I am fire, dancing higher.” Chanting, Sera frequency shifted herself from delta into theta, entranced in her own messages that felt like reminders of a time past. She looked East. It was twilight. Was it morning or night? The days and dreams were long strange passages of time and space. “I am alive,” she misted into the 0 degrees. “I am warm,” she felt inside the safe container of her arctic skin, sending out her etheric raven.

Her body was re-animating memories of love and a feeling of a deeper calling towards something of a destiny, like the gods of time were charioting her into the mysteries of her own past and future. Who am I?

She knew that the answer was beyond mere linear concept and that this collective destiny of Souls was a mystery, to be experienced – directly, and often forgotten or wiped out entirely by trauma and control, just to be remembered again and re-structured into a purposeful design.

Not today though, she thought. She felt hunted.

She had survived her escape, but her sister drowned after losing her footing fjording the Great River. She knew Signe would watch her now, as a dream-walker.

Signe's gift across time was guidance through signs, omens, and what she called Watcher songs – sonic guardians as effective and persistent as the bloody teeth of her dog gripping her arm and waking her still breathing cold-shocked body, sprawled on the good side of Great River. Only one moon rise and fall had passed since she crossed the cautiously chosen section of river, and she moved now, in her faith and focus that directed her further northwest, as the daylight urged its presence stronger and hotter.

She journeyed towards Jorn and his army of men – some kindred and some who felt rather nefarious in purpose, but all joined in one undefined destined mission of facing the strange presence in the Sky, no longer covered in contrived clouds. There was a strange feeling in her gut, too. She knew that there were other armies of men still on guard against those that were underground in their own dungeons of hate and contrived fear. She knew that many innocent were freed, not in body, but through death or deliverance. A time of mourning and a time of healing were now delivering her, and every man, into a new timeline, bridging earth and spirit.

Though Sera was safe inside the good side of Great River, she still felt hunted. Or am I haunted?

She often faced the fears of her own past, sometimes ancient past, as if it advanced towards her. Though, she had learned to decipher what fears were her own and what torments and tortures were from the collective human experience on earth, or false memories altogether. Still, she had to re-center and journey to the heart of truth inside her, in every breath. She chose to witness and to face all realities, in every dimension of being. She was a Knower and seer. And how she engaged her energy in the worlds of man – mattered.

It mattered to Jorn. He needed her clarity of knowing, need, and desire, and his men needed his clear direction, in return.

It mattered to her dog Wolf, as her energetic charge of authority was his invitation to defend her.

She telepathically sensed that the Strangers above Jorn, felt ominous but not malevolent, though she knew her actual history was “out there” in the stars, of a different continuum of space-time, altogether.

She trusted what her body told her. So she kept walking, with her Watcher sisters near, and with Wolf by her side, towards their fate.

Her body told stories and traumas of earth's true history, encoded like viruses in the timelines of man. Sometimes she discovered pleasure and gnosis, in her own body of DNA. She tasted the freedom too, in her hungry mouth.

She was a not just a Knower and seeress, but a medicine woman, a healer. She had lost most of her belongings in the Great River, but carried her bag of bedding, still wet, and bags of yarrow she would dry by the sun, if it was not re-covered in the clouds cloaking the truth in the sky.

Sera saw, in her inner vision, the men waiting. “It was morning,” she noted with a catch in her breath. The horses were chomping. This is what they have been waiting for, to run and ascend into the spirit of freedom that win or lose could never take away or give.

The Spirit was returning. It would move mountains. It would separate the fantasy from fact. It would bring together the people. True imagination, uncapped by delusion and overlays of doubt, was rebirthing into the mind of man and a new body of knowledge was being written. Knowing and knowledge were not the same, of course, and she knew that her gift was bridging Knowing and knowledge.

Sera knew that as a Knower, she was activating her body of light to stream codes of information for healing, for attunement, for hunting, for technological advancement, for pleasure, for restoration of Spirit – and for battle too.

Jorn knew that there was no other right way but to prepare to fight a physical fight, even if it was a tiny possibility, in the large field of infinite possibilities. He directed his thought power. He listened.

Sera's well crafted psychic self defense and energetic protection measures were well set in motion, as a practical means to gain access to the highest timeline in the field of possible outcomes. What does this morning hold?

Would she need her yarrow to assist her in stopping bloodloss? Yarrow also helped her divination, which she would need to track the movement of the different players in this battle of heart, spirit, and wits too. She needed to be ready for any angle of attack.

Deep inside though, she felt a sense of peace descend, as if the songs and ritual prayers performed by her sisters and her, had finally shifted the energy of the approaching mystery, from chaotic uncertainty, into a coherance of wordless understanding. She saw fields of light unifying Jorn's men with other armies of men, now gathering on the various continents of earth. There was a collective body of one brotherhood – a consensus of natural rebels joined in a cause, not yet fully understood. None was alone under the sea of stars.

After all, they were not enemies.

This was a time of great confusion. She felt the deja vú of having known confusion many times before, but now, something fresh was ascending. She felt her stomach clinch and her breath catch in strange excitement. She was ready for anything. She came here for this.

"What is my purpose?" Sera stared into the sea sky.

She recollected the past June, as the midnight sun solarized her prayers for restoration of the stargates below her feet and above her head, when suddenly, the rush of a new language of destiny travelled inside her body of flesh and bone – at the speed of light. She was still translating this into her conscious mind.

She remembered Jorn's strength as the midnight sun neared, when he carried her five miles to the shelter of an abandoned cabin. The grey wolf in him made his eyes dance fire and he looked up and a swooping barn owl locked his gaze, anointing his knowing with a memory of love and fate.

He welcomed his fate without surrendering his power, as the now dead army of armored men rushed through the silence and took him. She was left alone to die, but he knew somehow this was to be his fuel for a resurrection of Man, as man's nature had become sterile and singular, but not healthy or unified. And Sera always had an equal role to play.

Now he was finding his way back to her, after his own escape, thanks to his pack of men – loyal brothers and allies, who honored the cause of sovereignty and protection of the sacred. She was days away. She was coming. He heard her whispers in the wind. He was wounded, but unbroken. He advanced further north and west, further away from her physically, but his movement was somehow purposeful and connected to her exact arrival, at this exact location. A readiness in the hearts of every man pulled them towards the ridge's edge.

What happened next would define all the rest to come. It would right their past.

And it would heal the future too.

She walked and attuned. The ley lines of her earth rebirthed pathways and portals for a time of transition, from crossroads to hope in every direction. Her multidimensional vision was awakened. Jorn's was too.

He rode towards the edge. His men behind him, ten thousand strong. Ten thousand different stories of love, loss, and justice sought.

His was an ancient love, written in stardust. The starlight charged his prayers to decode the surfacing deja vú each time he stared into the nighttime fires. He always saw her dancing in the fire light. He too was a seer. And how would it end? When did it all begin?

On the other side of time.

Jaka lit the fire, for the second time. The snow was wet and the smoke dense. The drums enchanted his lover’s hips and she was restoring the Light with her sensual warmth. He heard his stomach growl. "Food would be cold tonight. But my bed will be filled with her genuine smile," he thought. As she danced with the energy, her vision awakened, and she saw the way they would win peace without a physical battle this time. He witnessed her inner vision rising to the surface, more colorful with each hip shake and spark of resinous spruce. He knew her gifts were returning. She possessed skills of mediation, fostering connectivity and trust among neighboring folk, especially other women. The men's collective spirit became stronger. Together, they anchored medicine for the Earth from the magic of the Stars.

He remembered other flashes of love. Her velvet body was a temple of mysteries. Her mind was sharp as his dagger. Jorn saw his past self watching his Sera, and wondered what name he called her.

Back on this side of time, calling himself back into full presence of mind and body, he saw some of the men looking up above the ridge's edge. They witnessed the arrival of a dozen massive ships.

The silence of what came next was audible only by Sera and her owl, the witch of Candle hill that watched her – another sister lost. Though days from Jorn, she knew.

Jorn heard her calm ocean wave in his thought storms of unsettled exhilaration.

He and his pack of men were all the way to the edge of perceived time and space. Jorn attuned to Sera, his oracle.

Above them, the light descended. The ships were landing.

He wasn't afraid. She sounded her song in the wind that chilled and soothed him at the same time.

It was time. But for what?