Cavern Scents Journey

My Dear Friend,

I write this hastily because I am gone again tomorrow.  I don’t know when I’ll return in the next two weeks.  I am well, yet unwell.  I have asked Yrs. Solaken to postpone my Guild  ceremony for several months.  He was dismayed, but looked at me curiously as though he had expected it.

No, that’s unfair.  I rationalize that it’s unfair.  I insist that it’s unfair!

I know that you will hear what I have said, and I know what you will think of what I am saying now.  But I own what I say, and that is that.  I will not take it back.

You know, too, what you will say to my scratchy, irrational message.  Others would say the same.  “You were so close!  So close!”

True.  In this modern, watered-down version of the Guild, yes, I was close.  I still am close.  But I’m not there, not yet.  And these protocols may be of no importance in the larger scheme of Guild matters.  Yrs. Solaken fancies he has preserved the old policies so very well….

I do beg to differ.

I haven’t told Jurel as of yet, as she, too, will be filled with warnings.  “If the anger reaches your heart, it takes control.”  I know.  I know!  And I feel it taking control while intellectually I also know that I have to do something to diffuse it.  Yet… it will not be diffused this time.  It is a hungry beast, this anger borne of fear, although exactly what anger or what fear it will not reveal as it knows I will then be able to confront it.  We are as yet, in a power struggle, anger and I.  Perhaps that is the fear… that anger will prevail.

My students are worried — they look at me and know something is wrong.  I tried to wave it off, but they have learned their lessons quite well.  But what can they do?  Some of them have barely begun to understand themselves, what pushes and pulls them, or even what to do when they fall into their patterns (as we do so easily).  I have them to think of.

I will write again as soon as I can.  I promise I will explain.  But tonight I will “help” myself sleep, and then things will look different in the morning.  This will pass, as did the last episode.  Even if the Professor will not take a stand in her affairs, I will take a stand in mine.

October 8, 2011, Devokan Trust Office, Touchstone House, Winterfell

It was so nice to meet with Dot last week and talk about things. I was so surprised that both my employer and mentor separately asked me for research drafts and healers’ articles that I was concerned they were thinking about something other than publications. At Dot’s suggestion, I asked them what the situation was. Surprise again! The horrid great-aunt Baroness D’Landria had made it known that my work was of interest to her, and though it would be to my advantage to increase my “sphere of influence” as she put it. That my drafts were mostly drafts seemed not to matter. That the articles published were short and included images of my meditation artwork seemed also not to matter. The point was that I was publishing. I still cannot imaging that she has my best interests in mind.

Then again, she is very old, and rather bitter about life. I would feel more settled about it if she urged me to publish in order to spite someone she didn’t like. Well. No matter. It did give me a reason to put my notes in order.

My conversation with Dot also yielded the answer to another difficult situation. Byron has decided to remodel the shoppe completely. He has asked me to continue preparing artwork for display, to be ready as soon as it reopens. I’ve used the upper floor, which now is torn up again. Dot very kindly allowed me to make use of the upper floor at the Devokan Trust Office in Touchstone House. I am glad there are several windows and that the weather is not yet so cold I can’t keep them open while I paint.

Something else interesting…
Dot wrote:

During a recent conversation, a maintainer friend expressed concern that one of her guild colleagues is missing, and has been for some time. We discussed all sorts of reasons for this, of course, but the idea that they might be on some private, undercover project seemed to me to be the most likely.

I didn’t get the impression she was convinced, however.

Interesting. I had no idea.  I suppose with all the new experimental ages being written, the poor maintainers are likely to find themselves in all sorts of odd places.

I realized my letter to Dot had caused something of a stir among my acquaintances, for which I am apologetic. But what can I really say to them? Of course there is more to it, but I don’t know what they know, those two. And her — what is her true motivation?  Not Dot, of course, but…. her….

Back to silence and obscurity, I suppose. I am rather tired of being unable to say much, especially because what I know is not much. The Professor has asked me to begin working at a new office, too, and that rather adds to my worries. Still, she is so affable that I can’t see any reason to refuse. She did say there was a large garden plot that I could use for the herb garden. That alone will be wonderful!

September 24, 2011

My Dear Dot,

Once again I have neglected my promise to visit you more often. I believe, however, you will be pleased to know what I have been up to. You can see some of the fruits of my recent labors at Opportune Spirits or in a very nice display at the Guild of Healers new Garden Gallery in our Outreach Retreat. It occurred to me that although I am very stretched for funds (aren’t we all?), I could donate some art to the Retreat for a fund raising cause. I have a few pieces in the Garden Gallery now, and am working on more to add. I hope some other GoH members also display their work as there are plans for an open house some time in early October. Our explorer community is so very talented, and I am always amazed. Not at my own work, of course, as that is nothing compared to the works of others. No, you and I have discussed the marvelous creations surrounding us in images, sculptures, architecture, even botany. The new ages appearing are most interesting, and I feel guilty that I have visited only a few. The new work at the Devokan Trust is … well, you know what it is.

But I digress…

I do have a reason for writing to you other than to issue an apology.  As you know, I have been working for the Professor now for almost one year. Until recently, I have remained rather quiet about this position. I suppose part of that was because I was so busy finishing the program I was in at the time and was also publishing my manuscript. I admit I then spent most of my time painting — something I had not been able to do for years. The work with the Professor has been interesting, as I’ve been allowed to watch as the ruins slowly emerged from their graves and write down my observations in my own style. The students are enthusiastic, sometimes to the point of tiring me out. The Professor herself seems to have limitless energy, and her theories were (and are) still controversial. She does love to debate with her detractors! Thank goodness that is something I don’t have to take on.

You know also that I had been invited to the Revnekan Institute of the Healing Arts some years ago for advanced training in various healing methods. It has proven helpful both for myself and for others. This program, my work at the Emporium, the Herbarium, the Guild restoration, and my publication has kept me very busy; consequently, I’ve said less about this than I could have. And what can one say when asked to listen to breathing and inner intuition as authoritative guides? “Seriously, what nonsense,” I hear myself say even without soliciting opinions from anyone else. Jurel is ever cautioning Institute students against saying too much. Yrs. Solaken would prefer we kept everything in the Institute Guild Hall as if it were all still a secret. I know I should not have continued to read his correspondence once I realized who the journal belonged to…. But he seems to hold on to such outdated traditions! You will believe me, then, when I say it is such a relief that our Guild gatherings in the Cavern and the Retreat allow for freedom to discuss multiversional realities. Anyone interested can come to join us and speculate to their hearts content. Without such debates as the Professor allows, of course. But I digress again.

My apologie.

I do promise I will visit very soon, for something odd happened just ten days ago and I would like your opinion on it. As if they knew each other and had discussed the subject, both the Professor and Jurel suggested I make my observations and conclusions public. In fact, in their different ways, each insisted that I do something new to publish — and soon! I am slightly dismayed, because I am about to begin the autumn herb harvesting and drying at the Herbarium. And that woman — oh you know the one I mean. The Baroness. She is so very important…. Dot, she is positively annoying. I know she’s making another attempt to “guide” our progress at Opportune Spirits. What is it to her, I wonder, since she never owned the property? Why should she care so very much how the project takes shape? My teeth are beginning to grind, I must admit.   I am about to…  oh, Dot, I am sorry…. I’m off on a tangent again…

Here, then, I will come to the point. I have place abstracts of some of my initial articles on the Discussion Board at the Devokan Trust. I do hope you don’t mind. They and links to the articles are listed on the information board at the CavernScents Herbarium, but I know you don’t come out that way very often. If you’d like I’ll add links to the Devokan board. I realize I could have simply said this without so much preamble (or verbo ambulo in medio), but the sequence of events it is rather surprising, don’t you think? Ruby will also be surprised, I am sure, although I’m not certain she took the time to read my letter closely enough to understand what it really means. I only say that because I’ve not received a KI-call or an unannounced visit. It is rare I have eventful news to tell her.

I hope also you do not mind I sent this to your office in Winterfell.  It seemed safer than sending via KI-mail.  I’ll explain more when I see you.

My Best Wishes,

Ghaelen

P.S  If you are curious, here is a link to my initial list of articles at the Cavernscents Herbarium Information Board.

Healers and visitors made the trek to Eder Gira for a few hours.  We looked at plants many had never noticed before and speculated about the use of them.  I thought the idea that the large bowl plants were used to carry water was one of the most interesting things I’d heard. We soaked in the pond for quite a while, enjoying the conversation and the relaxing waters.

I looked, but I didn’t see movement out beyond the grasslands.  Thought I might, but no luck this time.

“Here, dear, these you can look over.  Take them with you and then you can do whatever you want to with them.”

“Hats?”

“Aren’t they nice, dear?”

“But…  I don’t wear hats.  And I already have hats like these two.”  They weren’t really my color.

“Oh, now, now, take them anyway.  You’ll find a place for them.”

“These two look Victorian.  The fabric is interesting.”  I put one of them on my head, and it fit perfectly as if made for me.  ”They’ve held up very well if they are Nineteenth-Century Earth.”   It was a rich green and purple color.  ”Where did these come from?”

“Oh, isn’t that pretty?  That belonged to my grandmother.  She made it herself.”

“Wow.”  I looked at the other vintage hat.  It was a lighter color, and was rather like the new steampunk style.  ”This is from the Victorian era?  It looks like something more modern.”

“Oh I don’t know.  She made it too, I suppose.  She made all her own clothes.  I learned how to sew from her.”

“Oh.”  I set the second hat on my head, tipped it to a saucy angle, and laughed.  ”Tai’lahr would love these for the JoyRides.  I’ll have to show her this one.

“Those boat rides and things you do with that New Age group?”

“Yes, and it is an Old Age, I think, Aunt Dolly.  The group is based on the D’ni Guild of Healers.  Jurel says there are still some D’ni Guildmembers around somewhere.  I’ve never met any, though, or heard more about them.”

“Oh now here we are!”  Dolly exclaimed with success.  I heard rummaging as I took off the hat and set it back into the box with the others.  As I turned toward her, she pulled out a paper-wrapped object.  ”This is what I want you to see.”

I looked, somewhat aghast.  ”An old dress?  Aunt Dolly, I never really got into dress up…”

“My grandmother loved this dress.  You’ll need something, and this will just do the trick!”  She peered up at me of a sudden.  ”Don’t start wrinkling your nose before you even know how fashionable it was when she wore it.  There is nothing wrong with it.”

“I’m not wrinkling my nose!” But I was. “Dolly, it is… green…  that olivey green — ugh, um.”

She shook it out.  I will press it and you can try it on.I frowned at her.

“Need something?  For what?”

“For your new job.”

“A new job?  But I have a job.  I am working on my publication.”

Ignoring me, she walked over to an ironing board I just then realized had been set up already.  ”I know, dear.  You keep working on that, too.  This is something different.  Oh, now, it won’t take up much of your time at all.  You’ll only be teaching some adults about an historical site.  It’s medieval, just like you study already. So don’t start fretting as if you have so much to do you don’t have time for one small thing like this.”  On she went, completely ignoring my protests and questions.  ”There now, that is quite lovely, don’t you think?”  She pointed to a pile of white linen.  ”There are the undergarments.  You go put those on and we’ll see how well she made this.”

At my look she stopped and met my eyes.  ”Go on, you are going to need something, and you don’t have time to shop.”

“Dolly!”

“Now Ghaelen, don’t argue!  Just put it on!”  Her voice was loud; unusual for my Aunt Dolly.  She actually looked over her shoulder.  Something told me to humor the old woman, so I stomped over to the pile of make-believe clothing and put on the centuries-old garments.  At the corset I balked.

“I will help you.”  She was right behind me.  I turned to protest again.  ”It ties this way.”

I heard a noise from below at that moment.  ”Hurry now….,”  she said in a warbling voice.  ”Think of it as one of your ‘explorations’ that you will get paid for.”

“Wha…” I said into the dress that appeared on top of my head.

“Put your arms in!”

“Yes ma’am!  Sheesh!  Explbl… oring?”  I wriggled into the dress.  ”What am I exploring?”

She stopped and looked at the dress for a second before turning me, rather forcefully for such a little woman, and tying the laces at the back.  ”Yes, this will do just fine.  She will like this very much.”  She turned me back around and set the hat on my head.  ”Ghaelen, she has to hire you.”

“Well, in this getup I can’t imagine why, unless she is like Ruby.  Then she’d have hired me in the underwear.”  I started to laugh, thinking of my friend enjoying the sight of me dressed up like  paper doll.

“She HAS to hire you!” Dolly said more urgently, as much to herself as to me.  I stopped laughing to look at her.

“YOU.”  She said.

The doorbell rang.  ”Coooming!” She literally crooned.  ”She is so happy to meet you, Professor!”

I followed, intrigued now.  ”Professor?  Who? Hire ME?  Why?”

Between completion of The Publication and The Plans of Instruction, I have not had much time to write up the growing stack of notes on my desk.   I really must find time to record my observations, or I will be unable to remember the nuances of the oils’ effects.  At least the committee has set a Meeting Date to review the work I have done up to the present; once that is over I will be able to breathe more easily about at least one project.

My conversation with Ruby about the letter from Dolly: http://cavernscents.blogspot.com/2010/07/what-friends-are-for.html

No sense in repeating myself.

I’ve decided to leave for the White Mountains tomorrow.  I hope it is time well spent.

I stared at the letter, read it again, and again.  My aunt Dolly had lost her mind for sure this time.   What could she possibly mean?

What people?  What am I writing?  I’m not writing about anyone…  unless the dead women I study are alive again and talking back — which they do in their texts, but I haven’t yet heard ‘voices’ from their graves.  Such Nonsense.

I have no idea what she means.  Dolly does tend to ramble at times.  She’s just an older lady who gets her irritations with one side of the family confused with irritations with the other side of her family.  It is a very large family we have — when my grandparents had their 50th anniversary there were 300 children, spouses, and grandchildren (plus a few great grandchildren).  I don’t know any of her husband’s family and she never names them even as she complains they’ve done this or that yet again.  Uncle Stanley was always fun.  He took us kids fishing and told us stories.

Oh, I don’t have time to go to the White Mountains!  Dolly, Dolly, Dolly…   Meeting in the Cavern would be much easier.

Sigh.

Dolly’s Letter pdf file

The first time I noticed the fragrances was in the newest age the DRC had opened.  It rose up from the ground immediately after the rain.  I thought at first it was the puffer plants; or rather, I thought it was the spores the puffing plants were ejecting.  But after checking, I discovered those had very little scent.

The fragrance was floral, and a little fruity, like summer wine.  I spent two hours searching but never found the source.  It began to wane, then the rain began falling again.  I left the age with the mystery unsolved.

(August, 1992)
“Hello again, Ghaelen.  I’m glad to see you.  Did you manage to find the testing center?  I did try very hard to meet you when you arrived, but I was delayed by a patient with a very ill newborn.”

I looked at the thin woman in front of me; saw the shadows from her brown hair cross her face; noticed how the suns in this age cast a double shadow on everything.

“Yes, I found my way there with the help of a gentleman at the station.  Will the baby be alright?”

“We expect no more complications.”   We are worried that our methods are inadequate.  Something in the medicine no longer takes affect as it should.

I tipped my head as she spoke, then noticed her lips didn’t move.  ”What…?” What? “Good.  I’m very glad to hear that.  Losing a baby must be the worse pain for any parent.”

“Yes.  Well,”  she shook my hand warmly.  ”Let’s have something to eat.  You must be hungry.”

I stopped walking and looked around toward  the building on our left.  I could see it’s bright colors against her warm mauve suit.  ”Oh, I’m sorry.  I must have misunderstood.  Yrs. Solaken didn’t tell you?”

She swung around with hardness in her eyes.  A moment later it was gone.  ”Tell me what?”

“We are lunching with the committee.”

She stopped and the hardness reappeared.  ”That’s today?” Seconds later she smiled softly.  ”Of course it is.  New applicants always lunch with the committee during the first day.  How many of you are in the group?”

I felt the muscles in my brow tighten.  ”Well, I don’t actually know.  I’m not….”

“Of course not.  It was foolish of me to ask you.”  She began walking again.  ”You will enjoy this.  They make a celebration of it.”  Take care as I take care and watch how they behave toward you.

I walked as well,  noticing we had not turned left.  ”Why?

“Pardon me?”

“Why…. a celebration?  Um, I mean, we’re only applying for a two week retreat and herbal course.”

The wrinkles around her dark brown eyes began to deepen.  Then the corners of her mouth turned up and she smiled more than she wanted to.  A second later, that, too was gone.  ”Do you know how long a day is in Giloveelay?”

“Ah…” I laughed.  ”It is two weeks of Giloveelay time.”  I laughed again.  ”Oh my.  I really have to get used to this.

“You will.  Everyone does.”  Time enough for you to understand, to see the reality, to remember it.

“Jurel…. What is…?”  She turned left and beckoned for me to follow, then stopped.  ”Enjoy your lunch.  You are coming to the Harvayen fields this afternoon?”

“Ummm…”  I looked at the suns, then around for a clock I knew somehow I would not find.  ”I don’t know.  Jurel, I am sorry, I’m still disoriented.”

At that she laughed.  ”Of course you are.  You all are.  I think I saw your name on the fields list.  If not, in the second afternoon as you call it.  Turet on Giloveelay.  Turan and Turet, the times of sunshine.  They’ll explain it again after lunch.”  She turned and walked away.

Now I did frown.  ”You are not coming?”

Turning back again, she smiled less genuinely.  ”No.  I was….   uninformed before I took up another engagement.”  She looked at the building then back at me.  ”Did Gr’noreth- Yrs. Solaken – meet you at the station?”

I thought back quickly.  ”No…  he wasn’t waiting for me.  I had been there a little while when we started talking.  He noticed I was waiting, and thought I looked like I could use some help.”

“He said that to you?”

“Yes, and then when I told him why I was there, he introduced himself and said he was going my way.  I thought I would be late, and I did recognize his name from the packet of materials you had sent me.”

She frowned again and suddenly nodded rapidly.  ”Oh yes, of course.  He was training our new assistant field technician at the time.  Forgive me, I did try very hard to meet you.”

“I am certain you did, but a sick baby takes priority.  Jurel, I mean it.  It is quite all right.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”  Nodding again, she then shook her head and rubbed her brow briefly but hard.  ”You’d better go before you miss the introduction.  It is informative and enjoyable to hear.”  Again she smiled, and again she walked away.

I watched her for a second, then moved toward the colorful door I knew led to the dining hall.  She was right, I was hungry, and whatever they were cooking smelled very good.  As I reached the door I glanced back toward her departing figure.  She walked in long strides, covering a lot of ground with each step, confident or angry.

Second afternoon.  We will know in the second afternoon.  You can see then.