Star and the Dreamer

Star and the Dreamer

For every story that must be told, there is a bard to tell it. In every village, in every home, ‘round every crackling fire there sits a bard and, on his tongue, rests a thousand tales. Those, on whose ears these fictions fall, eagerly recount them to their friends, but these retellings pale in comparison for the bard does not see the world as others do. In his eyes shines a myriad of lights, all screaming for attention. They see times long lost, and yet to come, and live a thousand lifetimes in the space of one heartbeat. Each word, each pause has purpose and meaning when a bard begins his tale, and none can capture the mind and heart so fiercely as he. With skill he weaves the simplest of words, with the greatest delicacy, into fables and legends and tales that, once told, will spring from village to town the world over and never lose its heart. It is his gift, his talent to have such a hold upon his listeners, and he revels in each recital.

There are times, however, when even the bard’s words are not enough. There are moments when the stories run dry, when his heart falls heavy and cannot sing of the wonders and colours that only he can see. For the best of minds, these times pass quickly. For others it is not to be. These are the ill-fated dreamers: trapped with thoughts and feelings that cannot be expressed. It is a miserable life for such hapless souls, who must content themselves with the drudgery of everyday life. They must settle for suppression, for a gag that cannot be removed, and the gloom that comes withal.

Lylam Kee was one such wordless dreamer. Once he had commanded the crowds, been revered wherever he went. All doors were open to him, as he travelled far and wide, for with him he brought great adventures and daring feats of bravery. He brought tales of woe and heartache, or love and betrayal, of misery and death. His voice sang high above the clouds to places only dreamt of, and the crowds, at his feet, sat enraptured.

Then one day the words were gone. Then the very next day the crowds were gone. Lylam Kee was left with nothing but a heart brimming over, and an empty head. No words, no stories, not a listener left and no life in Lylam Kee.

He wandered the land, a miserable soul, and searched the four corners of the years. For years he roamed across fierce country, down deep valleys, up and ever up to the mountain tops, seeking his forgotten muse. Yet nothing could return his beloved words to him, and his life felt empty without them. Lylam Kee was distraught. He found himself a large, open field - one where no people or animals lived, nor even walked across. There he lay down on the cold, cold grass and, bitterly, he wept.

For several days and nights he cried, until the sky could bear it no longer. It shed its clouds and bared its heart; the light from its fullest moon shone down upon the bard and the stars shimmered above.
  " Bard, why do you cry so?"
The bard stopped his weeping and sat up. He looked all around his empty field, but there was no one to be seen. For a moment he puzzled over it but, thinking it only a trick of his despairing mind, he lay his head upon his hands and wept, more fiercely than ever.

Then the voice called out again.
  " Bard, tell me why you cry? Why weep with so much beauty in this world?"
Lylam Kee stood up quickly. He felt quite sure that no trick had been played on him, for he had heard a voice. So unfamiliar was it, that Lylam Kee knew it was not a voice from memory. So sweet and gentle was it, and so lightly touched with golden tones, that Lylam Kee knew, in his heart, that it was Heavenly. And so he looked up.

There, perched upon the black night sky, a jewel afloat and unscathed by the tar pit tides surrounding it. There, brighter than the sun, yet soft in its glow, sat the brightest Star ever born. Lylam Kee rubbed his red and weeping eyes. He could not believe what he saw - nor heard, if it was true that the Star had spoken to him. For a moment he stood blinking, his mouth agape, unable to speak at all. Then suddenly he answered.
  " Oh Star! How true it is that beauty exists, but how sad am I that I cannot speak of it. I have lost my muse, my inspiration. I have lost my reason for being - my words."
And once again the bard broke down and wept.
The bright Star looked kindly upon the man, and its heart was heavy with sorrow.
  “ I can help you,” said the Star, “ if it is what you truly desire. I will give you back your words, a thousand times stronger than ever they were. But know this, and know it well, it is but a favour I give you. One favour only - and will be recalled one day. Look deeply in your heart, bard, and be sure of what you wish.”
Lylam Kee did not hesitate, not even for a moment. His heart was filled with joy and the thought of returning to himself that he swore no love greater than his words.
  “ Very well,” said the Star and, with that, reached down and gently brushed the bard's lips. In an instance, Lylam Kee stopped crying and leapt up high in the air with a shout of joy! All at once his mind ran clear and the thoughts made sense again. His soul was lifted from the mud and soared, higher than ever it had.
  " Thank you, Great Star! A thousand times, thank you!" Lylam called into the night. He danced and sang, and the words came freely and were all his own.

Then the Star hushed him and bade him listen.
  " Remember, Lylam Kee. This is not a gift, but a favour, and I will call upon you one day. When that time comes, you may not refuse me."
The bard was so overjoyed with the return of his words that he did not care what the favour may be, and vowed that he would fulfil any wish the Star asked of him. With that the Star faded, the sky grew light, and the sun peered over the hilltops.

Lylam Kee watched the dawn as though for the very first time. He rejoiced in its majesty and sang of its beauty. It had taken but a heartbeat for inspiration to return to him but now his mind was filled, once again, with the tales his heart longed to speak of. Lylam Kee ran from the field to find pen and parchment and begin his craft again. For several days and nights he wrote, furiously and without respite. Then he slept and, in his dreams, a thousand new worlds came to life.

When morning came once more Lylam Kee tore from his house and raced towards the village square. So anxious, was he, to share his tales that he simply leapt upon a wall and called to those about him. The people ignored him, too busy with their chores. Yet Lylam Kee was not discouraged and began his tale anyway. So strong was his young voice, and so filled with love for every word that the villagers could not help but listen as they toiled. Soon they stopped their work altogether and stood at Lylam’s feet, hanging on his every word. Once more Lylam’s eyes swelled up with tears, but his tears were joyous, for he had at last been returned to his life's love. The Star had been true to its word.

~~

Several years went by, and the bard never once stumbled for the right words to say nor struggled to tell a tale, nor sing a song. He travelled throughout many towns and villages and, everywhere he went, the people cheered him. They loved to hear his tales, for he told them so well, spinning his words as a spider weaves its web - with intricate detail and love. The bard thought himself the happiest man alive, and believed in no love greater than that which he possessed. Until, that was, he happened upon a quaint little village, one he had never visited before.

As always his reputation preceded him and, as always, doors were flung wide to him and he never lacked for a place to sleep nor a meal to fill his belly. In return for their kindness Lylam Kee would recite several of his greatest tales, to the sheer delight of the villagers. All would gather in the village square, huddled close to one another, anxious not to miss a word.

One young maiden, however, did not join the crowd. She did not rush to hear the tales but stayed, instead, on the wall of the well from the beginning to the end of the story. The bard could not help but stare at the maiden, at her delicate frame, her raven hair and curious pale blue eyes. He was in awe of this beautiful creature and endeavoured to speak to her as soon as he could - but the woman never came closer to the crowd and left as soon as the words had ended, always in the company of an older man. Lylam’s heart was taken by this maiden and, for several days, he did not speak in the village square. His mind was too consumed by a new love and by thoughts of how to woo her.

One day, as he pondered the right words to say, he heard a voice behind him.
  “ Bard, why do you not speak in the village anymore? I do so love to hear you.”
The bard looked around and saw the maiden waiting, with a gentle smile upon her face. Lylam looked into her eyes - those curious eyes - and suddenly he knew why she stayed so far away and why she never joined the crowds. The girl was blind.
  “ From birth, I’m afraid,” the maiden said. “ I have never seen these things you speak of. Please say you’ll speak again.”
Lylam promised that he would. From the very first words they shared together, Lylam Kee fell in love.

Every day the maiden came to hear him speak, and every day he knew he loved her more - yet he could not tell her, for fear that she would not return his feelings. So the bard turned his stories into tales of love and marriage, of romance and happily-ever-after, for it was the only way he could speak of it.

Over time the maiden and the bard grew ever closer. Lylam Kee settled in the town where his fair love lived, and travelled no more. They spent each day together, dreading the time when the evening would part them, longing for the morning when they could be together again. The bard grew braver with each passing day, and more sure of his maiden's love for him. One day he felt that his heart would beat no longer if it could not tell the maiden how it loved and longed for her. When he did he was overjoyed to hear her return those words to him. The two were married, shortly after, in a ceremony beneath the stars.

All the villagers turned up for the wedding, gathering in a large open field - one where no people or animals lived, nor even walked across. The couple spoke their vows and pledged their love to the cheers and tears of the crowd. Then the maiden, with glittering eyes, turned to her husband.
  “ You have made me happier than I ever dreamed possible. I see more clearly with you than ever I have. I only wish,” she whispered in his ear, “ that I could see your face, just once.”

Far above the wedding party the brightest and most beautiful star heaved a heavy sigh. It wept at the sorrow in the wish and a single tear fell down upon the earth and landed in the maiden’s eye. All at once her sight grew clear and she looked into her husband face for the very first time and her smile grew wider and brighter. The villagers all rejoiced and headed for the village hall to dance throughout the night. The star, however, in its sorrow, lost its grip on the night sky and fell to the earth where it splintered and was lost.

~~

A year passed by and the maiden grew pregnant and brought forth a beautiful baby girl. They named her Luna, after the full moon under which she was born. Their family was complete but more expensive than ever and the bard, though he hated to leave his wife and child, was forced to travel once again. He wandered through rich towns, reciting his tales for the coins the people would throw at his feet, and returned with his pockets brimming. Each time he returned, the maiden and her child would meet him in the field where they were wed, so anxious where they to be together again.

One night, two years after the birth of their child, Lylam Kee was returning home through the field. The sky was cloudless and a full moon hung bright and sombre in the air. The night sky began to fill with stars. The bard did not see them, for he watched only for his maiden. He did not see the moon creep behind a cloud, nor the stars fade to distance sparks. He did not see the bright Star appear above him, but he did hear its voice.
  " Bard, I have returned."
A sudden fear shook Lylam Kee for he had forgotten the Star and its favour and had forgotten, too, his promise. The bard denied his absent mind, but the Star knew better.
  " You are truly an ungrateful being to have forgotten, so easily, the favour that once brought you the greatest joy on earth. But you have a chance, now, to redeem yourself, for I am recalling the favour."
The bard swallowed back a nervous breath, suddenly wary of what the Star would ask for.
  “ There was a star more beautiful than any and far brighter, even, than myself. It was lost to us, two years ago, on the very same night as your wedding.”
  “ I am sorry to hear that,” Lylam told the Star, “ but what can I do to help?”
The Star sat silent for a painful time, caressing Lylam’s face with its light.
  “ There is,” said the Star, “ only one small piece of the light that was lost. A single tear blessed the eye of a maiden. It stayed with her and grew inside of her and there it became her child.”
Lylam Kee flicked his eyes to the furthest edge of the field. There he saw the silhouette of his fair wife, their toddling child waddling by her side, and he suddenly grew afraid. Dread fear entered the bards heart just then, for he knew, without asking, what it was that the Star wanted. Still, he asked all the same.
  “ I am asking you, Lylam Kee, to keep your promise. Your child belongs to the sky. Return her to us and so return your favour.”
Upon hearing these words, the bards heart dropped to the frozen ground and broke into a thousand, piercing shards. As he had done so many years ago, the bard fell on his hands and knees and wept bitterly.
  “ Please,” he begged, “ Do not take her. She is my love, my life, my reason for being.”
The Star looked down at the man and said: “ When first I met you, your words were your love, your reason for being. Has your heart changed so much so quickly? It is as fickle as your absent mind. What guarantee is there that, a few years from now, you will not again have had a change of heart and your life's love will be something new?”
  " No, that will not happen! My love belongs to my wife and child."
  " But the child is not yours, Lylam Kee. Heaven demands her back. Bring her to me."
The Star's gentle voice, though changing not a note, suddenly held in it force and rage. Though he trembled with fear, the bard knew that he could not live without his fair daughter.
  " I will not bring her to you!”
Lylam Kee raised his voice high in fear and anger as he shouted at the Star, screaming and cursing the one who would separate him from his love. The Star sat still in the sky and listened for a long time. Its heart was soft, but its anger strong, and when Lylam turned to call a warning to his wife, it reached down towards him and plucked his tongue from his mouth. In an instance the bard fell silent. No more could he shout, no more could he curse and never more could he speak his beloved words.

  “ I warned you, Bard,” said the Star. “ A promise must be kept. Your child was never meant for this world, and Heaven demands her back.”
Far out across the field, her gentle smile at last visible through the gloom, Lylam’s fair maiden steadily approached. Her joy at seeing her husband again shielded her from the fiercely blazing Star and she did not see its descent in the sky.

Lylam ran towards his wife and child. He waved his arms above his head and tried to call out - but the Star had his tongue and held it fast and the bard could only squeak and grunt. The maiden merely waved back. With each step closer she and the child took, Lylam's heart pounded harder and faster, for he knew he could do nothing.

Above their heads the Star moved in, its light lapping the child’s plump cheeks. Her mother looked upon her with a gleeful smile and picked the girl up in her arms, holding her close. They were barely a foot away from Lylam when the Star reached down from the sky and gently touched Luna on her curled head. A strong light enveloped them both, blinding Lylam as he ran. With an anguished, voiceless squeal, the bard fell heavily to his knees.

Slowly, the light faded and the Star retreated to its perch in the sky. Lylam’s eyes peered through the gloom at a delicate and solitary figure walking towards him. Her steps were slow, unsure and deliberate, the way she had walked when first they met. Lylam wept all the more for he knew his child was gone and his love was blind once more.
  “ My love,” called the maiden. “ Are you there? I am frightened, Lylam. Speak to me and I will know you.”
But the bard could say nothing. He reached out for his beautiful wife, and held her steady in his arms. He looked into her curious eyes, pale and blue, and felt great sorrow at what he had done. Lylam held her in his trembling arms, and touched her silken skin. He tried to say he was sorry, but he couldn't.
  “ My love, why will you not speak to me? I will know you by your voice.”
In his heart Lylam felt a dagger cut deep within, and wound him, but the stinging blade was not so merciful as to end his life. He held his lady tighter and tried to tell her how much he loved her - but he could not speak a word.

The maiden and the bard sat still in the open field, voiceless, sightless, wordless. The bard wept bitterly at his broken promise and the tears so filled his eyes that he could not see the night sky clear and a new star appear.

High above their heads, brighter and more beautiful than any that had ever been seen before, a new star shone in the north. It’s blue light dazzled the earth and a voice, soft as an angel's, called out:
  “ Bard,” said the North Star, “ tell me why you weep so, when there is still so much beauty in this world?”