...For something surprising, perhaps even miraculous, happened last night. And my heart and spirit are buoyed with more hope now. And I must speak of it before I burst! But first, a little context, a little backstory…..
My youngest memories are those of astonishment, wonder, and admiration of my mother and her arcane powers. Her songs brought strange thrills and feelings to me until I could not stop myself from dancing, an awkward attempt in my early years to express the tingling thrill within my body elicited by her song. And I would coo and sing, trying to match her mysterious melodies.
Tireen Elyndar, she was a masterful bard, still is, and the only arcane archer of our small clan. Tireen Elyndar, the wordsmith, the lyrist, the defender. She negotiated with other clans and merchants, she healed with the Al’noth, and she protected the clan with Al’noth-infused arrows that pierced much deeper than other archer’s bows.
My youngest memories are that I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be her. “All in good time,” she would say, when I begged her to show me how to heal wounds, or stir the hearts with song. “All in good time.” But my child heart and child mind did not understand why now was not the good time. “Other things first,” she would say, and she’d sing of the legends, the history, the heroes. And at first, that was wonderful. I learned some of the ancient songs of our people. I learned about the different races of elves and of humanity, and other things. I practised the drills of meditation and focus and practised with my child-size bow.
But I longed for the Al’noth. And “All in good time,” began to eat at my spirit. My child mind began to think she was holding me back from the magic. Maybe she didn’t want me to learn her arts. Maybe she did not want another arcane archer in the clan. The seed of rebellion, stubbornness, and anger rooted in my being, and grew, clouding my spirit so that all the studies, readings, recitations and practise became a burden to escape from. And escape I did. To the halfling clans nearby, to play with my sister Eregryn, and the halfling children.
Every anniversary of my birth I begged my mother to teach me how to spin the Al’noth into my bow and arrows, and finally I was of age, she said. But first I must learn of the Al’noth before I learn of fusing archery and the Al’noth. She put her heart and soul into teaching me, but I had become such a headstrong rebellious child, full of frustrations and resentments. And she was so demanding and critical. I tried, and she tried. But eventually the studies, recitations, and practise became more and more of a burden. I desperately wanted to learn to channel the Al’noth, but I kept getting frustrated at my mother. For no apparent reason. I just could not do it.
She passed me off to another elven bard, Olgrid Aesir’ia, and that was easier on my heart. I didn’t break into outbursts of frustration with him. But try as I could, I was unable to channel the magic. I’d do the mind clearing exercises, the visualization exercises, “seeing” the Al’noth as light pooling in my belly and channeling into my hands and voice for the incantation, but….nothing would happen. I tried to feel the Al’noth, sense it in my bones and fingers, but I couldn’t. Olgrid was a patient teacher, and I threw myself into studies, now that I was free of my mother’s high expectations and critical eye. Night and day all I thought of was to channel the Al’noth into the simplest of spells.
I failed. And fell into deep grief. My sister Eregryn tried to cheer me up. She told my mother we’d go spend a few nights with the halflings. But part way there I begged her to go on without me while I headed to the little nest hideout we’d made not far from the elven camp. Alone, I vowed to myself that I’d not leave that nest until I’d succeeded in channeling the Al’noth. I tried, and tried, and tried. Everything I’d learned I threw into that focus and effort. I tried everything I possibly could...and I failed.
I fell into such deep despair and hopelessness then. I knew that I would never channel the Al’noth. I’d never follow in my mother’s footsteps on the path of the Arcane Archer. I’d never be worthy of the respect she receives from all of the tribe. I was a failure. Not fit to be her daughter. Not fit to be of the tribe. Not fit to be alive.
In hopeless despair I left the nest and wandered the woods, not even thinking of bringing my bow or any supplies. An unaware moment, and I’d scraped my face on a branch, and cut my lip deeply. It stung, and throbbed. Finally, I collapsed on a mossy mound deep in the woods, and was ready to die. If wolves had found me and eaten me, I don’t think I would have cared.
To this day I know not what happened. I awoke from a half-slumber feeling oddly calm. It was as if I was looking over my shoulder at my thoughts and emotions. The sun was rising, no clouds were in the sky, and my mind was similarly awakening and cloudless. The slightest thought drifted by and my gaze upon it dissipated it. I realized that I was humming, effortlessly, thoughtlessly, and upon feeling the ache and throbbing of the cut on my lip my hands made the gesture I’d practised so often and my voice the incantation, and….the cut healed.
Astonishment tossed me out of the calm. I tried the incantation again on my scraped face...and failed. Again, I lay back down and calmed, and slipped into that new state I’d not experienced before - an effortless awareness. And in that ease I realized….the Al’noth was all around me and all throughout me. My breathe stirred it, the earth under my back hummed with it, I could hear the song of the Al’noth. There were no visualizations or even kinesthetic feelings of it, but I could hear it’s hum and vibration, and miraculously, I could match it with my own silent hum and vibration. Again, the incantation and gesture, and the cut on my face healed. I tried the other simple spells that had been drilled into me, and each flowed effortlessly.
Weeping, I stood, and sang. I found the Al’noth singing through me. How had this eluded me for so long? I realized that I had been in my own way. Yet now, something had come with the deep despair an hopelessness. In giving up, I had stopped being in my own way, and the Al’noth, unbidden, uncalled for, beyond hope, was now here and flowing. It had always been here, but I had been in the way of its flow with all my pigheaded efforts.
I ran like a gazelle back towards the clan. My feet were light, my heart was soaring, I couldn’t wait to tell my mother of this success! Ahead of me I saw Eregryn, my sister, talking worriedly with my mother. Eregryn held my bow. She must have gone to our hideout and seen that I was not there and that I had left without my bow, which I never do. My mother’s face was lined with worry, and she was gearing up to hunt for me. She broke into a sharp rebuke on seeing me, and without thinking, all my frustration and resentment poured out in a shout at her. Flooded with anger, I tried to explain that I’d found the Al’noth, and I tried to demonstrate it. But the effortless ease was gone…..nothing flowed...and no spell spun from my lips.
It was months before I found the Al’noth again. I did not find that grace and ease and oneness as I had experienced that one morning, but I did find the Al’noth, tentatively, unreliably, tenuously, but it was there.
My teacher Olgrid apologized, explaining that he had failed me in his teaching. He said that most people find the Al’noth through focusing on visualizations. For those who fail, most find it through focusing on kinesthetic sensing. But a few rare individuals only find it through the auditory channel of hearing the silent Al’noth, and matching it’s vibration with one’s silent or auditory humming. I was of the rare auditory type of person, and he apologized for not recognizing that and coaching me on that path.
I demanded to be taught the path of the Arcane Archer from my mother, and would not take “all in good time” as an answer. Reluctantly, but in the spirit of trying to mend our relationship, she taught me the rudimentary exercises. She knew I would not be able to manifest the magicks until stronger in the bardic art, but she taught me the basics, and I threw myself into the exercises with a passion. But our connection had been shattered, and I could not stand being in her presence for long. I’d wander the forest singing the archer’s Al’noth threads, weaving the melodies with bow and arrows, channeling the timber of my voice into the timber of the wood. And, of course, I was not ready to manifest it.
So instead I practised the bardic arts. I studied again with Olgrid Aesir’ia, and learned the incants for many bardic spells. And even though I could not manifest the results of the incants, I knew that one day I would. So I learned the gestures and incants, and practised them in my forest wanderings.
Over the years I came and went from the tribe. The focused studies were interspersed with long periods of goofing off and play. I just didn’t have the discipline to go the distance. I also grew more distant with my mother. We still talked at times, and I still questioned her on things arcane, and of her Arcane Archer path. But I knew I’d have to build my bardic skills and apply what she had begrudgingly taught me in my own way, in my own time. Still, I had some hope and faith due to the experience that had come, unbidden, in my moment of deepest despair and hopelessness, when I had given up and was no longer in my own way. And that hope kept my heart alive and lighthearted.
When my sister fell in love and started aiming towards a life with a partner, I decided it was time to peel myself away from the clan. Throughout my childhood and teen years I had been seen by many as an irresponsible member of the clan, more interested in playing than taking on responsibilities in the clan. More interested in wandering the woods and singing, than harvesting food and herbs. More interested in making up my own songs, silly ditties that made the halflings laugh and the elves frown, than interested in learning the ancient ballads.
So it was time. Time to wander the world, and continue to grow my bardic Al’noth in my own way. And one day…..perhaps one day…..channel the Al’noth through my bow.
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