All posts by Robbie Swale

 

My father told me a story once, about a man who lived in a valley. A great storm rose up and the river overflowed. The valley began to flood. A horseman rode by the man’s small house and said to him, “Come, ride with me, for your house will soon be under water.” The man told him that he needed no help, for the Source would save him. As the waters rose the man took refuge on his roof. Two swimmers came by and called out to him, “Jump into the water. We will help you reach dry land.” Again he waved them away, saying that the Source would protect him. As he sat perched on his chimney, thunder filling the sky, a boat came by. “Jump in,” called the boatman. Again the man refused. Moments later the water swept him away and he drowned.

The man’s spirit appeared before the Source. The man was angry. “I believed in you,” he said, “and you failed me.” The Source looked at him and said, “But, my son, I sent a rider, two swimmers and a boat. What more did you want?”‘

Waylander, to Chardyn, Hero in the Shadows

 

My father always told me that life was nothing but memories. He was right. As each moment passes it becomes history. He thought it was important to hold on to every moment, savouring it. He often talked of good times past, and hoped that the future would supply more golden memories. The truth is, though, that memories are only golden when shared; when you can say to a loved one, ‘Do you remember that walk by the orchard grove when first we held hands?” She will smile and say “Of course I do, you old fool.” That is the joy of memories. When Katra died she took half my life with her, and now the memory of the orchard is at best bittersweet. Ah, I am getting old and I talk too much.

Senlic Carpenter, to Kaelin Ring, Ravenheart