Memoirs of an open mind

Part two: Featherguns and Gwarockies

 

Celica grew up and she grew older, for every year she leaped forward onto new discoveries. Deep within her soul she could still feel this little place in her heart hurting from that day when her mom once had asked, no; commanded not to explore the meadows. Somehow these words had forcefully pushed all her curiosity into a small box whom she then locked shut within herself. This box had yet to be opened, but Celica could not find the key for the many locks that had accumulated throughout the years.

She was a teenager now; some would say Celica had gotten calmer over the years. Others might even state Celica’s behavior to be a prime example for others to follow. As a matter of fact Celica had lost her ways, she hadn’t yet realized it herself, but she was definitely lost. If she would take a moment to search within herself she would soon find how numb she had become, how all the genuine emotions were now replaced by something…

To Celica everything she felt was now a hollowed out copy of her experiences from her childhood years and she did not even know it herself. Slowly but surely Celica was slipping down in to a void from which she would never be able to get out of.

 

But of course fate is destined to change many things, Celica had no idea what would come her way. Maybe she was content in not knowing?

Maybe they speak of truth the words of old? “Ignorance is bliss” they say, perhaps it isn’t all negative?

 

One day when Celica woke up she realized how the world had changed. Not quite being old enough to understand the irony of how her world that changed her every day had now itself transformed into something other than it was the day before. She did not understand it or she didn’t think of it, either way she felt it wherever she did go. She smelled it in the air; she saw it in the mud and sensed it on every villager passing her by. Celica did not dare ask anyone about it, what was the point anyhow? She had burnt herself asking questions she wasn’t supposed to before, a mistake she would not be stupid enough to make again.

But what was it? Everything seemed different somehow, yet Celica seemed to be the only one noticing. The others kept existing; for it was all they ever did. She knew for she had herself only existed for quite a while now. Not anymore, something had woken the girl up in the midst of her bloom.

Something happened to Celica, she felt a surge of emotion she hadn’t had in a long time. Like the world had reopened anew and was yet again ready to tell her all its secrets. She ran back home and began to turn her room upside down.

“Oh where is it!?” she blurted in frustration.

There it was! Underneath her bed, behind the many old cartons of childish memories she found her old rug sack she had once carried with her every time exploring new and exotic places.

Now the word exotic seemed a bit misplaced for Celica since it referred to the attic, the basement and sometimes the yard behind old Andrews’s farm. But at the time they all felt exotic and she truly missed the tingling coming from her stomach when rummaging through litter, or that time when she snuck all her dolls into an old container just behind the barn.

Her rug sack had always given her the feeling of comfort, like a portable sanctuary! It sure was. Thus it seemed almost too unnatural for her if she were to go on a new-and certainly dangerous-adventure without this rag made out of an old skirt her mom had sewn when she still was a small toddler. It still held pretty well, but it didn’t allow for much space. Celica decided to only pack the most important things: her one doll she still cuddled with during long rainy nights although her mother did not approve, a lens of glass she once found in a puddle of water which she once used to burn an ant with the rays of sunlight and regretted for weeks, a pen and some paper, three curious sized rocks, all colored pink. These were her most favorite things in the world and had brought her great joy when little, until she had forgotten about them… Once again they were all united and ready for a true adventure!

 

First she needed to tell her mom she was leaving. Her mom had not been feeling good of late and had been spending a lot of time in bed during the last days. Celica ran into the mother’s bedroom without thinking and stumbled on the doorway. She fell and almost gave her poor mother a heart attack.

“Celica, for goodness sake! Be more careful, you will get seriously injured one day if you do not watch your step girl!” she exclaimed shocked.

“Sorry mom!” Celica apologized, although it was a bit half-hearted but her mother seemed to accept the apology. “I’m going on an adventure!” she giggled.

“Not one of those ‘adventures’ that causes your mom to add more clothes to the laundry basket is it?” her mother asked suspiciously.

“I don’t know mom, I’ll try and be careful!” Celica was already halfway out of the room when she said it.

“I hope so! And be home before noon!” her mother yelled after her but Celica could barely hear her.

“Yes mom! Bye mom!” the door slammed and Celica ran outside.

 

When Celica reached the town square she had no clue on where to begin. How do you explore a world when the whole world appeared different in front of your very eyes? There was no map that could show her the way since all map had been created during an older time, no one could point her in the right direction because no one else seemed to have been consciously affected by it. They all looked different, they all behaved the same.

After observing her neighbors for a while she quickly concluded that no one had even changed their routines, so they definitely did not know what it was Celica wanted to know. She thus ran to the northern gate.

“Now now Celica, where are you off to in such a hurry girl?” the watchman shouted from his watchtower.

“I’m off somewhere to find my doll; I’ve lost it you see.” Celica answered, it was a lie of course. She would never misplace her most precious item. But the watchman did not seem to know this.

“Is that so? A girl like youself would be a little old for them dolls, innit?” the watchman smiled. Celica could not determine if it was out of kindness or a way to mock her.

“If I’m too old for dolls then you’re too old to wear that stupid hat!” she snapped back.

At first the watchman appeared begrudged by the words that had left the girls mouth, then a smile spread across his face and he bursted out in laughter.

“Ho ho! Cleva miss, you go find this doll but stay away from them woods. They be dangerous for young girls, even an old stooge like meself.” he then opened the gate and Celica left the village for the first time in many years.

 

Outside of the village existed a large road presumably leading to greater cities, but no one had travelled for years ever since they had become self-sufficient. Once upon a time the occasional trader or travelling party of jesters would come by, but this all seemed so long ago, so long that no one could really remember the last time anyone had seen a stranger near the village. It was all before Celica was born, she had heard about the tavern just outside the city gate and how it had boasted many joyful evenings filled with laughter and dance, how the light from the stained glass windows would shine until sunrise… But now it was nothing more than an old abandoned house. It had fallen to decay when they stopped getting visitors and the owner had presumably taken his business elsewhere. No one knew the owner so no one could tell Celica how he or she had been. Not even a name.

It was the first place Celica visited; maybe it too had gone through a transformation just like the rest of the world?

 

There it was: “The Feathergun”. The sign was still present, even though it hung low due to one of the chains had rusted and broken loose.

At first it didn’t appear to be very different from how she could remember it. It was a long time ago, she admitted. Nothing was certain until proven certain, so she stepped-unafraid as she was-inside the old ruin of a house and started her research.

The insides of this building smelled of mold, dirt and it had a sour smell to it. Celica always wondered why the tavern had gotten the name “Feathergun”. There was nothing odder than a gun firing feathers, she thought. And she could see neither feathers nor guns anywhere; she wasn’t dumb enough to anticipate guns just lying on the floor waiting for someone to pick them up. But at least she would be contempt to see maybe a carving in the wooden wall somewhere or a painting of some sort. There was nothing.

So this feathergun-business remained a mystery. Celica didn’t mind though, she loved mysteries. And for the first time in a very long one she felt alive and not just blurred out by grayness.

She looked around in the big room again and found something she hadn’t seen before.

Strange, the shadow had moved across the room. The sunlight had been shining through the windows on her right, casting shadows to the left of all objects inside. Now she seemed to be staring at the same room through a mirror, an enchanted mirror perhaps.

The sunlight still sipped through the glass on the right, but the shadows were now forming on the right side of every object in the room. It was so unnatural that Celica had trouble grasping what she saw. She closed her eyes, opened them again and it was still there! Like it was the most natural thing in the world! She started blinking furiously to clear her head of any insanity that might’ve gotten to her when she entered the tavern.

First nothing happened. Then when she continued blinking the shadows switched sides. Then again. And again, and again. Then the shadows switched every time she blinked, the faster she did it the more times she could see the shadow dancing around in the room, almost like it lived.

“You’re not fooling me!” Celica shouted uncertain of what else she could do about this.

She didn’t expect anything to answer. But an answer came nonetheless: “Okay, you got me!”

Celica gasped as the shadow left its resting places and clumped itself into one big dark thing, it all happened very slowly but for Celica it was over in a heartbeat. Suddenly she had this big transparent thing leaping over her.

“For 300 years I have been doing my job. I have one night of heavy drinking and you just happen to catch me when I’m hung-over! Who sent you young human? Has Boss-man started to employ you as part of some scheme?” it spoke. From where Celica did not know, it had no mouth as far as she could tell. She felt a bit scared, but the excitement outweighed her fear by a mile! She squeezed her shoulder strap just in case, it made her feel more comfortable.

“Are you humans devout of language or have I just stumbled upon one without a tongue?” the shadow asked. When Celica started to open her mouth but not speaking in amazement it continued: “Nah! I’m just kidding young one, you all speak way too much! You can get sooooo annoying.” it laughed.

Celica finally had gathered enough courage to talk: “What are you?”

“I’m Gnarly-Jarl, at your service!” it said and as it spoke the shadowy form sunk into a clump above her height, then it resumed its ghostly form, towering above Celica.

“Hello Gnarly-Jarl, my name’s Celica.” said Celica.

“A pleasure young human Celica, yes I must say your name really does sound all humanish wouldn’t you say?” Gnarly-Jarl said snickering.

“Well yes, I am a human, see?” Celica responded a bit confused.

The shadow who preferred to call itself Gnarly-Jarl expanded in the air, swished in a circular pattern around Celica and then back again in front of her.

“Yes I see, you are a prime example of a human if I’ve ever seen one! Now tell Gnarly-Jarl why this human has appeared to bust me on my only mischievous day?” it asked.

“It just so happened. I did not even know shadows could move until you just did!” Celica explained.

“So this human Celica is not going to tell Mr. Ohsoomniscient upstairs about this little miss happening?” it asked.

“Tell who?”

“Oh you know, Mr. Bossy-boss, the big B, the man. He who knows and doesn’t forget, well not until all is accounted for.” it said.

“You mean like your watchman or something?” Celica was a bit confused.

“Yeah… Something like that. No telling?” Gnarly-Jarl asked.

“Sure no telling.” said Celica.

“Splendid! Very good human! Bye!” it said as it started to softly lay down on the right spots where shadow should form from the rays of light.

“But wait! I must know what you are!” Celica shouted.

The shadow stopped moving. Then some of it returned to her. “What is it this human desire?”

“What are you?” Celica asked.

“You humans have taken fancy to calling us shadows; it is of course not all true. I mean there are shadows, and then there’s us! We behave like those looser shadows but only during daytime, nighttime we’re free. They call us Gwarockies.” Gnarly-Jarl said.

“Why aren’t the shadows free like you?”

“You see him over there?” Gnarly-Jarl extended a long shape towards an old chandelier from where there was another shadow falling from it. “Hey! Loser! Why don’t you ever move?” Then Gnarly-Jarl again went back to his ghostly form above Celica. “Aaah, the poor things. You see: shadows are truly idiots because they lack a Gwarockie mind. They do not think or reason like we do and cannot understand a word I’m saying. They are slaves to their task.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Not really!” Gnarly-Jarl said. “Some of them become Gwarockies after 500 years or so. But even if they do not they still have a big purpose to serve. You see, if we don’t have any shadows to shelter this world during the night from all the evil outside just waiting to get in, then both me and you would be in a lot of danger.”

“Is there evil outside of this world?” Celica gasped.

“Is there ever?” Gnarly-Jarl shouted in his excitement. “You’d be surprised!” It must’ve noticed the scared look on Celica’s face so it quickly added: “Now now. This human does not need to worry about anything out of this world. Now human Celica understands the reason for stupid simple shadows to exist. They are a shield.”

“So we only experience the night so we may shield ourselves?” her eyes wide as she asked away.

“It is but a small piece of the puzzle, a tiny part of the truth! Shield as it might be, it also acts as a faster means for transportation for us otherworlders-“

“-Otherworlders-“Celica asked.

“-is what we call ourselves. Since human is the dominating sort and since most of you seem not to notice us, well then you are the worlders. We-the rest of us-are the otherworlders.” Gnarly-Jack explained.

“Gwarockies and shadows are the otherworlders?”

“This human sure is full of annoying questions. Didn’t I mention I had a bad hangover? I’m pretty sure I did…” Gnarly-Jack complained.

“Please tell me more! I have never known anything else than inside the walls of my village…” Celica paused and reconsidered. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure anyone from my village has seen anything else. Ever!”

“There could be a reason for this.” Gnarly-Jack sounded puzzled. “Perhaps a law of some sort. Something made up long ago to shelter you, or us. Then again I cannot remember. Very well human, what is it you desire now?”

“How many sorts of otherworlders exist?” she asked curiously.

“I have no idea little annoying one. Honestly.” Gnarly-Jack answered.

“How many Gwarockies then?”

“As many as there are shadows.”

“How many shadows are there?”

“As many as the sun allow to live, is this really necessary?” Gnarly-Jack started to sound a bit irritated.

Celica considered why for a moment, then something came to her as bright as day. “I don’t think you know!” she laughed.

“I do to!”

“No you don’t, you’re just a shadow aren’t you?”

Gnarly-Jarl dissolved than appeared again, he expanded and stretched throughout the room. Then he swirled around as if he tried to knock over some chairs in the old tavern, but nothing happened. When he calmed down he returned to Celica. “I am not.” he shouted. “And you are tiresome, even for a human!”

Celica wasn’t convinced. “I think you’re really enjoying this!”

“Fine.” sighed Gnarly-Jack. “Can this human blame me? No human has ever spoken to a Gwarockie as far as I know. My time to ask this human something.”

“Okay, sure!” said Celica.

“Why did you blink?” it asked.

“Humans blink.” Celica answered.

“Not human-blinking little one! Your blinking! It was not something humans would do only… Faster.”

“Oh! Because I thought I was going crazy when you first move, I started blinking as fast as I could to get rid of any wicked visions. I don’t know why.” Celica answered. “Sorry.” she then added.

“So you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“When a human blinks, us Gwarockies must follow a rule to automatically reposition ourselves in the right angle so we are perceived as shadows. When you blink really fast it causes us to relocate much faster, we can only go so fast before we start making mistakes and you reveal us. We really are two-dimensional, can you see?” Gnarly-Jack said and as he turned he started to disappear, like turning a piece of paper. The only thing Celica could see was a thin line of shadow in the middle. Then it turned back.

“I think I understand. Blinking is bad for you, good for us.” Celica said.

“That is very far from what I said little one!” Gnarly-Jack said pretending to be annoyed.

“Well it is what I heard.” Celica teased.

“Ugh, you humans are the worst. Can this one return to his post before noon breaks?” he then asked.

“One more thing, do you know what’s behind the woods. I would like to go there.” Celica said.

“The meadows you mean? Little one, there is absolutely nothing there for you to see.” Gnarly-Jack said in a calm but warning voice.

“I think I’ll check it out anyway.” Celica said.

“Hear and understand me well human, for your own good: there is absolutely nothing beyond the woods to see. Don’t go there.”

Celica looked at her feet, she couldn’t decide whether to listen to this Gwarockie or not. She decided to question it further: “If there’s nothing to see then there is no harm in me going there.” as she looked up she realized Gnarly-Jack was gone.

She looked for any shadows near the furniture but there weren’t any. She sighed. Maybe it was time to head home after all?