Yggdrasil Reborn

After trading in the SUV I commandeered from the Transit Point for my own FBI issued Crown Vic that was waiting at the cheap motel that we had rented for our escape if we needed it. Strange as it may seem, I needed more than anything to escape from the people who had laid everything on the line to help me.

Looking back, I think it was being around people again who accepted me as if I were one of them, a real person. I had become too used to being the monster in the room, the central attaction to the Freak Show. Those folks accepted me without question, well, without too many questions anyway.

I felt an immeasurable relief in seeing that they came through the attacks without much harm, but also a tremendous sadness at knowing that so many innocent people had died just to lay a trap for me. Although I felt these things deep inside my spirit, I had no way of expressing them in a tangible way. I could shed no tears of relief, joy or sadness. Hugging or touching someone was just a mechanical exercise that didn’t bring any soft warmth, that couldn’t convey anything resembling the feelings I wanted so badly to express.

I needed to get away, to just be in the only way that I could. So I picked up the Crown Vic and my computer and other equipment that had been left on the Reservation when we went to go rescue John Red Bear, and had subsequently been driven up by one of his students to this meeting in Vegas.

The only one in that room was one of the Frau’s students, a young lady- Stephanie, she preferred Willow-who was taking care of the two giant familiars, Rowan and Morrigan. She was somewhat surprised to see me so soon, but was helpful in getting my keys and computer bag for me. I tossed her the keys to the SUV parked next to my car and told her that the others would probably be calling her soon.

I settled into the familiar confines of my car and headed for the mountains.

A few hours later found me parking the car at a highway observation point high in mountain range that I never knew the name of. I got out and went walking to the railing that separated the steep drop off down the side of the mountain from the parking area. Ignoring the dire warnings meant for mortals, I climbed over the railing and clambered down about twenty feet until I found a nice ledge wide enough and sturdy enough to support my weight. I sat and stared out into the expanse of high rocky cliffs, scrub land and desert that made this part of the country so breathtakingly beautiful.

The sun was high overhead, but still there were shadows cast over the land that slowly shifted as the earth rotated under the unforgiving sun. Wispy clouds drifted, sometimes gathering briefly before being dispersed by the strong winds. The wind whipped and whispered, elusive secrets carried to the ear only to be blown away before they could be fully comprehended.

I sat back against the rock of the mountain and slipped from my body. I felt free enough here, in this place, and at this time to soar like the eagles who hunted these far reaches. The winds beneath the wings of my Spirit were the energies that ebb and flow everywhere in the world, but most particularly in the high winds of the jet stream. I flew for hours, letting all of my petty, earthbound concerns slip from my Spirit, cleansed by wind and sol.

Just as the sun was beginning to be obscured by other mountains to the west, I looked down and saw my body nestled on that ledge just beneath the small parking lot for that scenic observation point. But now I noticed a small cave openning about forty feet below my body. Without really knowing why, I felt compelled to fly towards that openning.

Like an Eagle swooping in for the kill, I dove towards the cave at a breakneck pace, needlessly flinching as I hit the black openning and dove from one World to the next.

Soon I found myself standing at my normal entry point to the Underworld, the familiar path in front of me that would lead me to the clearing that I had last been to only yesterday evening in real time. Somehow though, things seemed just a little different, the path was the same, but was fainter, almost overgrown with new foliage, like some long period of time had passed in this place while I had been away.

The place felt different too. Where before I had always felt a little strange coming into the Underworld, like it was supposed to be a place of darkness and perhaps a little evil, now it felt almost vibrant, alive.

I followed the path towards the clearing that I had always felt was John Red Bear’s place, but now felt familiar, intimate.

As I rounded the bend and came upon the large boulders that had marked my entrance to the clearing, I noticed that the middle of the former clearing stood the dark, glistening, gnarled trunk of an enormous tree that appeared to be more metal like than wood. I stopped, stunned. The dark surface of the tree seemed to both suck in and reflect light at the same time. The trunk of the tree was easily wide enough for three people to encircle with their arms outstretched and not touch each other’s fingertips. The black tree also seemed to be swaying in tune to its own internal beat that differed from the breezes that affected the surrounding trees. Huge, knotty roots emanated from the trunk in all every direction, as if the giant tree needed to grasp tightly of the earth beneath it. Overhead, the branches of the mighty tree were as black as the trunk itself, and were covered with full, hand-sized leaves that rustled with each movement of those branches. The leaves were obsidian black on the upper sides, but almost white on the under sides. Looking up in awe, I could make out that some of the leaves seemed to have images of some sort on the white under sides.

Perhaps against all reason, I felt an irresistible urge to touch the Tree.

Carefully, I picked my way through the tangle of roots, kicking softly through some leaves that lay fallen on ground between the roots, I reached the trunk and touched it with the flesh of my living hands. The bark felt vaguely familiar, rough textured, metallic, and cool to the touch. But soon, a throbbing warmth flowed up from inside, warming my fingers and giving me the strangest sensation that the Tree was trying to talk to me. At first Ipulled away, not sure what was going on, but I couldn’t resist touching the bark again with my hand and then my ear.

From deep inside, I felt more than heard a breezy, metallic whisper, “Welcome home, Father.”

I pulled back again. “What in the...?”

This time, I could hear the whisper in the movements of the branches and the rustling of the leaves. “It is you who planted me, Father. I have grown tall and strong, waiting for your return.”

“I don’t remember planting anything but a baton here...son of a bitch! Is it possible?”

“All things are possible in this place. You planted a weapon, as warning and beacon to others.

Your fear, your need, your Life all nurtured me. I have grown from your seeds of stregnth and have become strong.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Yggdrasil Reborn”

“Isn’t that the name of the World Tree of Norse Mythology?”

“It is.”

“So are you THE Yggdrasil?”

“I am your Yggdrasil.”

“Oh, I see, it’s all clear now!”

“Your need called to me, so I have come. I shall remain so long as your need remains.”

“What exactly is my need?”

“When you come to know and understand that, my time will be over. For now, you may know that I am here, that you have a place of refuge in times of trouble. Know that you may come and seek answers to questions you may have, or for questions to answers that you may find. Here you will find the power to Dream again, to find Love, Loss and Hope. In my leaves you may find the images of those who have need of you, or who the memories of those whom you have lost and seek to find again. In my roots you may find the Water of Life, and in my branches you may find the Forbidden Fruit of Truth.”

“I see.”

Apparently my introduction was over though, since the rustling of the Tree now no longer seemed to form understandable words. I looked down at one of the leaves at my feet and found myself staring at the likeness of Jennifer, the girl who had died in the suite of that damnable hotel and who’s Spirit I had spoken with. Her image was smiling, peaceful.

I collapsed in a heap, scooping up the leaf and clutching it close to my chest. I lay there weaping amidst the tangle of warped roots for her and the others who died so needlessly.