The new day began with shreds of daylight finding their way through the ragged clouds after a night of heavy rain. A cool breeze blew in stuttering bursts through the forest, carrying with it smells of damp earth and vegetation. As the rising sun turned the sky into a kaleidoscope of colour, the calls of exuberant birds overlapped one another in a hundred different melodies.

An old woman opened the door of a hut on the edge of a village surrounded by deep, dark forest. She stood still and silent for a few moments in the doorway, breathing in the cool air and tilting her head upwards with eyes closed so that the sunlight danced on the delicate skin of her eyelids. As she opened her eyes again she smiled a welcoming smile to the world around her before walking calmly forwards. She began an unhurried tour of the garden, moving slowly from plant to plant, stopping next to each one to whisper secret words of encouragement and gently caress their petals. Her very presence sent waves of expectancy quivering up the stems of the plants and down into the roots of the surrounding trees.

The old woman moved with a fluid grace that belied her great age. Her transition from plant to plant became a dance, with every outward gesture connected to her core and every step carrying her unhesitatingly forwards. Her eyes were as bright as twin stars and contained such depths of kindness and wisdom that even her gaze alighting on a leaf carried nourishment. Her voice emerged from the depths of her being, rich and vibrant in tone, able to transform itself from the softest of whispers to the most commanding of speech.

When she had finished her morning ritual, the woman sat down on an old wooden bench that looked as if it had been in the garden for as long as she herself had lived and breathed. She surveyed the garden around her, her focus stretching outwards to the edge of the forest and upwards to the blue sky, still criss-crossed with remnants of cloud. While her gaze could reach only to the limits of physical vision, her inner sight perceived infinitely further. From the seemingly enclosed cocoon of the garden, the old woman could hear snow melting on nearby mountains, smell fronds of seaweed being washed ashore on faraway beaches and feel the fearful joy of a baby being born in a distant village.

The delicately incongruous noise of a twig breaking in the undergrowth at the edge of her garden, an unnoticeable sound to most people’s untuned ears, brought a smile to her face and distant memories flooding into her being.

The old woman shook her head in a moment of near comic disbelief as the memories opened up within her. How long ago had it been that she, the feral girl, had arrived at the edge of this most special of gardens. How afraid had she been as she hid in the undergrowth, like a timid bird, attempting to study the old man before her. How in awe of his eyes, voice, body and very presence had she felt. It was several days before she had the courage to show herself to him and several weeks before she opened up fully to him. Talas had become her teacher, guide and most trusted of friends. He had helped her discover who she really was, what life really was and where to tread next along her path. He had even given her the name which she still carried to this day; Lilanthro.

As she allowed the memories to continue passing through her, Lilanthro remembered how she had first appeared to the villagers with her dance through the heart of the village and her story-filled singing. She remembered with poignant sadness the night of the celebration when she announced her decision to live in the village and realised that it would be Talas’s last night in his home. The following morning she and Talas had tended the garden, sat together in a silence full of emotion and breakfasted in the sunshine of a particularly enchantingly warm day. She did not question him on his decision; she knew it was how Talas wanted it to be and how it was meant to be. Talas’s home was to become her home; his garden, her garden; his life of quiet inner journeying and outer compassionate action, her life.

Tears formed briefly in her eyes as she recalled their parting; the words of love and gratitude, and the all embracing seemingly endless hug, which nevertheless did end. She remembered watching Talas as he disappeared out of the garden into the depths of the undergrowth, just as she had once appeared from it. A few moments of silence followed, during which time the loss inside her felt as if it might engulf her completely, before the sounds of children calling her name heralded the arrival of the villagers at her door and pulled her into the present moment of her new life.

The memories continued to flash by. Lilanthro had become an integral and much loved member of the village, over time as much respected as Talas had once been. Every day she tended her garden and extended this ritual to the gardens of other villagers, taking turns to bestow her blessings on each one. The children of the village sought her out to dance, sing and tell stories. Woven skilfully into these moments of play was the chance for them to explore their emotions and for Lilanthro to teach them about the world around them. The adults sought her out for her knowledge of the forest and over time they came to her for guidance on many other matters. Once in a while, when Lilanthro needed to replenish herself, she slipped quietly away for a few days of solitude in the heart of her beloved forest. But she always returned to the place and people she had grown to love unconditionally.

Lilanthro had met her husband Brahen one fateful day when she and some of the villagers were on a hunting party far from the village. Brahen came from a previously unknown village many miles away, in another valley across a distant mountain pass. He was leading his people on an exploration of new lands. As soon as the two groups met, Lilanthro knew he was special to her. When she saw him, she felt all the separate noisy strands of this world merge into one perfect note, and she felt him respond to her presence in kind.

Lilanthro and Brahen had lived many happy years together. They ventured to the mountains, the valleys, the deepest parts of the forest, the lower lands and even to the ocean. They led their people to new lands, discovered new villages and forged friendships with many new peoples. They explored the depths of love that two humans can share and, when the twins Arlea and Isaco were born, their love as parents knew no boundaries.

Another sound from the undergrowth at the edge of Lilanthro’s garden brought her back to the present. All of those golden years were now long gone; Brahen had died over ten years ago and the twins Arlea and Isaco had ventured bravely out into the world and sailed far away across the ocean. Lilanthro was now a village elder, a wise and respected old sage, whose advice was still sought frequently, although not as frequently as before. The glory days had passed and the local villages had relapsed into regressive times. Lilanthro was at peace with this shift in the human realm. She knew beyond doubt that all was as it should be and that utopia is not meant to exist forever in this world. Across immeasurably long expanses of time she could see the constant play between moments of near-perfection and moments of devastating-fall throughout all human civilisations. She knew that change is necessary for learning and imperfection necessary for growth. It had always been so and would be always be so for as long as human souls needed to live and to learn.

Now, fully engaged in the present moment, the old woman Lilanthro smiled as she felt the presence of the boy hiding in the undergrowth at the edge of her garden. She knew who he was; a quiet, humble boy from a neighbouring village who lived alone with his father now that his mother had died. Lilanthro saw how he struggled to understand the human world just as she had once done and how he struggled to reconcile the pain that he and his father lived through. She also saw the amazing gifts hidden within him. No one else was aware of these gifts, not even the boy himself. But Lilanthro knew that with her guidance he would one day grow up to be a wise, strong and compassionate man, capable of leading the villagers out of the shadows and towards the light once more.

And here he was, drawn to her though he knew not why, yet still too uncertain to approach her openly. He had been visiting her garden for the past week, watching her tend to the plants and feeling comforted by her presence. Lilanthro guessed it may be another week or two before he had the courage to step out of the undergrowth to meet her; but she had no doubt that that day would come. There was no need to rush, she felt no impatience and no judgement towards the boy. He would step forwards when he was ready and, Lilanthro knew, that was the only way that anyone in this world ever grew; when they were ready.

So, she continued to smile to herself and allowed her gaze to drift in his direction for the briefest of moments, knowing he would shiver as he felt her eyes wash over him. Then she continued her day of contemplation and love-infused living.

Before Lilanthro had ever been born, throughout her whole life and far into the distant future, a multi-coloured thread weaves a never-ending tapestry of ever-changing forms. The feral girl, wise woman, Lilanthro had been but a moment of white and golden beauty emerging briefly into glory. Now it would soon be her time to fade, just as it had been Talas’s time before her. But the thread will continue its dance onwards and all will be as it must rightfully be in this world.

An end is always a new beginning; is that not what this imperfectly perfect world teaches us every day?

The following evening a breeze flowed through the village carrying with it a breath of expectation and a flutter of excitement. One by one the village families gathered in the clearing. Some brought food and drink with them, others blankets and pillows, and others still carried musical instruments and strange looking objects. A fire had been lit and its flames sent flickers of light and shadow dancing over the people and surrounding huts.

Lilanthro wandered around the clearing feeling relaxed and at home. She stopped and greeted the families, chatting warmly with each one before moving on to the next. She smiled to herself as she realised that she felt as if she were in Talas’s garden carrying out the morning ritual of tending to the plants. Talas himself was also present, engaged in much the same practice as she. When Lilanthro and Talas met at last in a space between the huddled family groups, they greeted each other as equals whose mutual respect for one another warmed the air around them for all to feel.

Once all the families had arrived, settled themselves on the blankets and shared out the food and drink, the evening began. Onari’s father Enu, who not surprisingly was one of the village leaders, welcomed everyone to the gathering and spoke words of gratitude and gladness for the meal. He thanked the villagers for their generous preparation of the food, he thanked the forest for its bounteous riches of animals and plants, and he thanked the night itself for sharing its wondrous beauty with everyone.

With much talking and laughter the villagers ate their food. Lilanthro and Talas sat together with Enu’s family, enjoying the meal and conversation as much as everyone else. As they ate, Lilanthro became aware of a shift in the feeling of the air and pulsing of the ground. She looked enquiringly at Talas, but he shook his head to indicate that he was not the one creating the magic. Lilanthro continued to eat and listen to the conversation around her, but she also gently sent her inner senses probing outwards into the spaces between people and the silences between words.

An enchantment was taking place which Lilanthro breathed gladly into the core of her being. The ground was full of the presence of people, the air was tingling with the warm words being spoken, the spaces between people were alive and the silences were full of promise. The good will of everyone present was flowing freely out of them, cascading through the space and impacting on every particle of matter around them. Lilanthro could feel a joyousness vibrating in every drop of air and earth. Even the flames of the fire pulsed with renewed vitality. As this exuberance touched lightly upon matter, it was instantly intensified and reflected back. Lilanthro sensed an upward spiralling of energy filling the villagers with waves of happiness and peace. Like drops of rain which become rivers, flow to the sea, evaporate into the sky and fall as rain once more, the energy replenished itself. Lilanthro realised that this was the first time she had experienced such a richly nourishing connection with humans other than Talas. It was so powerful that she felt it unify everyone into one joyful organism pulsing with one heartbeat. She looked at Talas again and smiled with gladness at the decision which she still held inside her.

Once everyone had finished their meal, the music, stories, singing and dancing began. Lilanthro and Talas, along with everyone present, were treated to a magnificent display. Some of the children performed dances inspired by Lilanthro’s first visit to the village. Some of them told stories which were woven into song just as she had done on her second visit. The adults performed a vibrant mixture of storytelling, juggling and music. Laughter, tears, concentration, awe and smiles flowed freely in and out of the audience’s minds and hearts.

Then it was Lilanthro’s turn. She sat in the light of the still flickering fire and told the story of a tiny seed that germinated into a fragile, young plant, which grew slowly but surely into a tall, majestic tree, until it was the tallest and oldest tree in the forest. As it grew it learned to accept the passing of every season and it learned how to be itself without wishing to be something else. It learned that by being itself it could give freely and gladly to others, providing food and shelter for many creatures, and could receive plentiful nourishment in return. It learned how to know its place in the world as well as the place of every other living being in the forest. It learned to feel the connection between it and the other creatures and plants of the forest, the rock and soil beneath its roots and the air and light moving through its branches. It knew that its time on this earth was finite and it also knew that life would continue onwards in an infinitely overflowing dance. It was a simple version of the story which Talas had told Lilanthro on the day they had ventured far into the depths of the forest. When she finished telling it, she looked at Talas, who gave her a knowing and respectful smile.

And then it was the turn of Talas himself. The villagers hushed each other into quiet stillness. Talas had been their guide for many long years. They trusted him, were in awe of him and loved him as a child loves his kindest, wisest grandfather. They wondered what wisdom he may have for them tonight, wrapped up in humour and merriment. Instead, he said only,

“There was once an old, old star shining in the heavens. The star was bright and strong, it burned with love and knew the secrets of existence. Some creatures, who lived on a planet far away, loved this star for it seemed to talk to them in their sleep, whispering stories that helped them live their lives. They were glad of the star and hoped it would never leave them. But, the star was old, and one day it knew its time had come to fade from the sky and travel far away to another place and time. It was sad to leave its place in the heavens but happy to obey the laws of life which told it it must depart. Luckily, its sadness at having to leave the creatures alone was comforted by knowing that a new star had just been born which burned with as much love as it had once down and also held the secrets of existence within it. The old star knew that the new star would continue burning brightly in the sky for many a long year and that the creatures would grow to love it and would one day forget the loss of the old star.” Talas sat back into the shadows as he finished telling his story, leaving an uncertain silence hanging in the air.

Luckily, Enu filled the silence. He thanked everyone for their contributions and at last turned to Lilanthro to ask her the question she had been waiting for all evening. “Lilanthro, we hope you have enjoyed this evening. It is rare that we gather together like this and share so much of ourselves with each other, but I hope from now on it will become a more regular event. We are all so happy that you have become our friend, but we know you have sacrificed another life in order to stay with us and we know you have your own path to follow which may now take you far away from us to distant lands. We would love for you to settle in our village, but we would understand if your visit with us will soon come to an end. We wonder, are you ready to tell us your choice?”

Lilanthro replied, “Whatever I have had to give up to become a part of this village, I have gained threefold from being here with you. I know I could choose to leave and return to my life in the forest or venture onwards to see what lies beyond the most distant mountains. But neither of those choices is the one which I know is my rightful path. So I choose to stay and live my life here with you.”

Instantly, the gathered families erupted into cheers and claps of delight. The children ran to Lilanthro throwing their arms around her and begging her to live with them. The adults waited their turn and then went to her, hugging her warmly and indicating that she could share their home if she so chose.

Lilanthro waited for the excitement to die down and then said, “Thank you all for your generous offers of a home. However, I already have one in mind. You will find me there tomorrow morning. But for now, the night is old and the children are tired. I thank you all for the most wonderful of evenings and I will see you all tomorrow.”

And with that, one by one, the families dispersed and disappeared into the darkness of the night, walking tiredly back to their homes. Lilanthro and Talas were the last to leave. “You are sure of this?” Lilanthro asked Talas with a note of deep sadness in her voice.

Talas nodded silently. “Then I will stay in your garden tonight,” Lilanthro said, “And in the morning we will greet the day, tend to the plants and have breakfast together for one last time before the old star must fade away.”

“Yes,” Talas replied, “I would like that very much.”

And with that they walked together towards the hut and garden on the edge of the village which had been Talas’s beautiful home and sanctuary for many a long year.

TO READ CHAPTER 15 CLICK HERE!

The following days and weeks were a blur of activity for Lilanthro and the villagers. She awoke that first morning and, after having breakfast with Silja’s family, went to visit Onari. He was full of energy and excitement. He asked her many questions about the forest and her life there. He also told her many tales about himself and took great pride in showing her his home and all the things in it which he or his father had made. She ate lunch with the family, who were inquisitive about her life and keen to share their own stories with her. Conversation flowed backwards and forwards, as easy and reciprocal as waves surging in and out upon a beach of warm, golden sand.

This exchange of questions, curiosity and friendship was repeated many times over as Lilanthro made her way around the village visiting all the families and staying each night in a different bed with a different host family. Everyone was energised by the new village guest. Everyone was keen to show their willingness to be her friend and to display the brightest aspects of their characters to her. Lilanthro felt her love for each villager slowly growing. In her previous secret studies of them she had seen both their bright sides and their dark shadow selves. She had witnessed how their veils of anger, jealousy, fear, greed or sadness often tightened around them to hide their compassionate, loving hearts both from themselves and others. But now, just as falling in love can open the heart and dispel the shadows for a grace-given while, so Lilanthro’s presence amongst the villagers lit little candles in their souls which freed them from their shackling veils.

Lilanthro knew this could only be a temporary effect, soon their beings would contract again and the veils would return once more to wrap around their hearts. But she delighted in seeing the true nature of each villager and she had faith in the process which was occurring. She knew that some of the villagers would rejoice and make the most of this period of grace, being already aware of the true nature of their beings. Others would feel curiously invigorated and notice for the first time the veils which clung to their hearts, so beginning the journey of dancing with them. Others still would not yet be ready to make that leap, and after a few days or weeks of this heightened state would relapse back into their world of anger or guilt or other such thoughts or emotions. But still, Lilanthro knew, one day they would be ready and then their eyes would start to open and their hearts begin to shine. Everyone was on the path, they were just at different places along it.

One night after her first week of visiting the village families, Lilanthro lay sleeping and dreaming. She dreamed of paths criss-crossing a wide land of mountains, forests, valleys and rivers. She was following her path, not knowing exactly where it was leading but trusting that the direction was true and enjoying every moment of being in the changing landscapes. Other people were on other paths all around her. Some shared her path with her for a while and then branched off in other directions. Some overtook her and disappeared from view ahead. Some walked slowly so that she overtook them. She conversed with some of the people, others ignored her completely. Those who overtook her sometimes encouraged her to travel onwards with them, but she was not ready for their pace so she stayed where she was. When she overtook anyone who was looking tired from the journey, she would slow down to walk and talk with them, but eventually she would return to her own pace and they would either quicken their steps to continue with her further, veer off onto another path or drop behind. Some she kept meeting at different points along the path, and they became welcome friends who she would walk with for long distances, part from, and then meet again at some other unexpected turn in the path. There were others still who she could see standing on far distant mountain peaks surveying the land around. She could tell they could see farther than her and they inspired her to continue her journey so that one day she too could stand on that distant peak and survey the land anew.

One night after her second week of visiting the village families, Lilanthro lay in bed in a reflective mood. “Everyone contains a light at their core,” she mused to herself, “We were all born out of that, so how could it be otherwise? But, as Talas said, when we are born here we forget what we are and we spend the rest of our lives trying to remember. Unlike the tree which grows with utter certainty as to its place in this world, we develop layers of uncertainty which prevent us seeing ourselves, others and life clearly. How strange it is that we go about our days thinking we are awake, when really we have fallen asleep! How long and winding and challenging is the path to waking up again. And how different each person’s path. I am lucky that my life has given me such encouragement to feel the true nature of things; I have learnt to become me and also to let go of me. I hope my days forward will be long so that I can continue my learning and share the journey with others.”

One night after her third week of visiting the villagers, Lilanthro lay in bed in the home of the last family in the village. She was restless, wondering to herself what might happen from here. Should she stay and live the rest of her life amongst her new family? Should she venture onwards to other new worlds to meet whatever animals, humans or other beings might exist there? Or should she return to her forest home, taking her learning with her but once again becoming a hermit, far from human contact?

The very morning that she awoke with these questions still hanging in her mind, Onari’s father approached her as she wandered comfortably down the now familiar village path. “Tonight we will hold a celebration,” he told her, “A celebration of all that is special here in our village and a celebration that you have come to share it with us. I hope you will be happy to join us…?”

“Of course,” replied Lilanthro, “How could I miss it? You have all shown me such kindness, I would love to share an evening of celebration with you.”

That afternoon Lilanthro went to visit Talas in his garden. He welcomed her with an all embracing smile and invited her to sit with him. “So have you decided young Lilanthro?” He asked her.

“Decided what?” She replied, blushing as she realised he knew exactly what was on her mind.

“Will it be your choice to live your life amongst this small world of humans, with their beauty and their ugliness, their joy and their pains, and your own veils of thoughts and emotions? Will you decide to leave them behind in search of new wonders, imagining you have learnt all you can here and yearning for other adventures to pursue? Or will you return to your life as a feral girl, where your sense of oneness to the world around you is true and clear, and where you will forget about the complex dance of being human and the mysterious connections that can grow between people?”

“Well, my happiness can be greater in the forest, away from all the strife of the human world.” Lilanthro replied. “But the oneness which I feel there is like a child’s experience of life. I think it is our purpose to learn the lessons of being human; to fall asleep and then to attempt to reawaken and become conscious of ourselves. Returning to the forest might be blissful at times but it might also be like running away from school. And besides, I think I might feel lonely now that I have come to enjoy human company. I certainly do feel a tug of wanting to leave here and be free again; free to wander on to new lands and discover what other marvels exist in this world, free to be constantly stimulated by meeting new people. But I also sense how easy it could be to always travel onwards, to always think something greater exists beyond the present place. And I know that this is not necessarily true freedom. If I stay here it would at times be exciting and at times dull. I have made friends here and I have learnt so much. But whether my love for the villagers would grow day by day or dull down to mere fondness, and whether my learning would continue or whether I would be lulled into sleepiness once more by the day to day-ness of life, I am not sure…” She paused with uncertainty for a moment.

“There are many possible outcomes, whichever choice you make and not all of them are within your control.” Talas said. “But, remember the young tree that grew patiently older; it always knew its destiny was to be a tree, it never tried to become anything else. I have no doubt that you know enough about who you are to make this decision and choose a life that is most truly a Lilanthro shaped form on the tapestry.”

“Yes,” Lilanthro replied with a smile, as the clouds of uncertainty passed and the sun shone once more, “I have made my choice. I will tell the villagers tonight.” And she gazed out over Talas’s garden to the edge of the enticingly dark forest.

TO READ CHAPTER 14 CLICK HERE!

The following day came soon enough, heralded by the calls of the birds and the light trickling gently into the nest Lilanthro had made for herself. She awoke with an unsettled, knotted feeling in her stomach. Today was the day, the third day in which she would visit the villagers, the day she would find out whether they wanted her presence or not. She had shared her dance, her songs and her stories, now she had nothing left to share with them. Her mood was tinged by an edge of fear. Fear of judgement and fear of rejection. She felt safe when she danced, safe when she sang and safe when she weaved her light-filled stories of living. They were what she knew, they were part of her very essence, they connected her with something so strong, deep and alive that nothing else mattered, not even her shyness. But today she would meet the villagers once more without the magic of her dance, song or words to enchant their spirits, and she had no idea how they would react.

Lilanthro spent the day with Talas in the safe cocoon of his garden. He was, as ever, acutely aware of her state of being and treated her with an all-embracing acceptance that soothed her. He did not talk much, and did not ask her to talk, but he remained near her and encouraged her to engage herself in the daily tasks of tending to the garden.

Lilanthro realised how much she had regressed to being that timid, feral girl who had first appeared in his garden, seemingly so long ago. How scared she had been then, how scared and confused and full of conflicting emotions. It had been the start of a long road of learning about being human, navigating the complexities of human thought and feeling, and touching lightly upon the deep mystery lying behind the ephemeral world of form. Talas had taught her many things and she had grown immeasurably from his teachings. But now, and she could not help but laugh at herself as she thought this, now she had come full circle and felt as if she was beginning her lessons all over again, as if she had never learned them. Talas noticed her moment of self-amusement and gave a gently questioning glance, inviting her to share her thoughts with him.

She accepted.”How can it be that I have learnt so much and yet now feel as if I have forgotten it completely?” She asked.

“Aha!” Talas replied, “Now that is a challenge which many people stumble over. The secret is that this is just how it is meant to be. The things in life which we most need to learn have to be learnt many times over, in an almost endless cycle. Each time we learn it, the learning sinks a little deeper into our being, and only eventually does it sit so deeply in our core that we no longer have to relearn it, it has just become us. You will feel like a timid, confused, unknowing child so many times in your life young Lilanthro; welcome each moment of this for it means the lesson is sinking in ever more deeply.”

Lilanthro smiled and nodded. “Yes, I can sense that is how it is, I just forgot for a moment because my veil of fear clouded my sight. I remember now, I will dance with the fear so that it releases its hold on me… Thank you for the reminder!”

For the rest of the day, Lilanthro felt her strength, fluidity of being and confidence returning. Her fears evaporated and she accepted what lay ahead, whatever the outcome may be. That evening, as the day was once again loosening its grip on the world and allowing the night to take its hold, Lilanthro returned to the edge of the clearing on the other side of the village from Talas’s garden. When she arrived in the shadows she saw and heard many people ahead of her. As she looked out at the clearing she could see not just the village children waiting for her, but also many of the village adults, standing expectantly in huddled groups. Once more she steadied herself with a deep breath before stepping out of the undergrowth to meet them.

The children gasped excitedly as she walked calmly forwards and the adults became still and silent as she neared them.

“Are you going to sing to us?” Called one boy.

“Can we dance together again, like we did two evenings ago?” Asked a girl.

“I want more stories about the wolves!” Exclaimed another boy.

But Lilanthro shook her head. “My name is Lilanthro,” she said, “I grew up in the forest with the animals and birds for company, far from here. Recently I came to the village and saw humans for the first time. I was scared of you so I hid myself and did not show myself to you, although I did sometimes leave white flowers on your pillows at night as you slept.” There was a murmur from some of the adults as they realised the identity of the mystery giver of flowers. “Then I met Talas and I stayed with him learning many things. With his help I became brave enough to show myself to you. My dance and song and words are all I have to offer. Other than that I know only simple things. I can tend to a garden, I know what plants in the forest are good to eat, I can track animals and I know how to make nests in the trees to sleep safely at night. This is who I am, this is all I am, these are the only things I have to offer. Are they enough for you to accept me as a friend?”

Not all the children understood Lilanthro’s words. One called out, “Why aren’t you singing or dancing for us? That is much more fun!” Other youngsters stood with uncertain faces and fidgeting bodies, wanting to play again and not stand around talking. But a slightly older girl ran to Lilanthro and threw her arms around her saying, “I am your friend. I will show you all around the village and look after you. Do you want to come and see my home?”

With that, many of the older children also went to her, asking to be her friend and urging her to visit their home. The young ones soon caught on, seeing this as a new game in which they could demand attention, and they all ran to Lilanthro, calling out to her and tugging at her. Suddenly, Lilanthro was surrounded by a tornado of children, swirling around her and calling out in ever louder tones. But this did not last long. One by one the adults called the children back to their sides and reluctantly the children left Lilanthro alone in the centre of the ring of villagers. Only two remained, the girl who had run to her side and the boy who had first spotted her two evenings previously, still stood resolutely by her side.

“No!” The boy called out, “She is our friend and we want her here. You can’t tell us not to be friends with her and you can’t make her leave!”

The boy’s father stepped forwards with a patient smile on his face, “My son, it is mischievous of you to ignore your parents calling to you, but courageous of you to stick by your new friend. Lilanthro, on behalf of us all I would like to welcome you to our village. You have shared so much with us, will you now do us the honour of allowing us to share with you and show you our lives and homes?”

“Yes of course, I would be delighted!” exclaimed Lilanthro gladly, holding on tightly to the hands of her two new friends.

“Then maybe you would like to visit Silja’s family this evening, seeing as she asked you first. Tomorrow morning I hope you will visit my family so that my son Onari can talk to you some more, and then I think you will be kept very busy visiting all the other families here.”

And with that, the matter was settled. The children spoke excitedly to their parents urging them to invite Lilanthro to their homes. Not wanting to be left out of this turn of events, the parents all approached Lilanthro, introducing themselves to her and asking her to do them the honour of visiting them soon.

Once this flurry of activity was over, Silja took her hand once more and led her to her parents who stood nervously to one side. Lilanthro remembered their soft, timid natures from her earlier studies of the villagers and she knew they were warm, kind people. She greeted them respectfully and waited for them to invite her home. This they did in a humble yet sincere manner, and together they walked companionably to the family’s hut.

That evening, Lilanthro was treated to a delicious meal, honest heartwarming conversation, and the generous offer of a bed for the night. Realising that she would offend the family if she refused, Lilanthro had the strange experience of sleeping in a bed for the first time, side by side with Silja. As she lay awake in the darkness, listening to the soft sound of Silja’s breathing, Lilanthro marvelled at how it was that she had come to be here.

“I am human!” She thought to herself, “I am human and I have found a new family of humans to live with. I am still the feral girl, who runs with the wolves and knows how to connect to all that is around me. But now I am also Lilanthro, learning about dancing with the veils of my human thoughts and feelings. And I am something other than Lilanthro, just a fleck of silken thread weaving this tapestry of life. What a marvellous journey I am on!”

Then she slept, dreaming of the forest, dreaming of what might lie ahead in the days to come, dreaming of a silken thread endlessly weaving planets, stars and whole galaxies into existence…

TO READ CHAPTER 13 CLICK HERE!

The new day came and the new day went, seemingly uneventfully enough. The villagers went about their daily lives in the usual manner and the children played as they had done every day for many a day. However, there was a buzz of excitement and uncertainty in the air; the talk of the adults was full of questions about the feral girl’s visit and the children’s games were full of dancing.

Lilanthro herself spent the day in nourishing solitude, wandering the forest and reacquainting herself with its mysteries. She walked, she ran and she danced her way through the dark avenues of trees, in and out of clearings with their patches of welcoming sunlight, and across the many streams in her path. She took her time doing exactly what she knew best how to do; being with the forest, feeling its every breath, following its slow, patient pace. Just as the forest ebbed and flowed, so Lilanthro allowed herself to be at times full of movement and at times empty and still. She visited many friends, both animals and plants, and delighted in the purity of their lives. “How simple is life,” she mused, “Yet how hard and complex is the path that humans follow to find that simplicity.”

That evening she returned to the village and passed by Talas’s garden. He sat, looking as ever at peace with himself and the world, talking gently to a tender plant as it delicately closed its petals for the night. Lilanthro was not surprised when he raised his head, looked directly at her standing at the edge of the garden and gave her a wink. “Be on your way White Star, I have a feeling some people are waiting for you.”

Lilanthro smiled, nodded and ran lightly from his garden to the edge of the clearing where the village children were playing. Except, they weren’t playing their usual games. Every single child from the village was there and they sat together in a huddled group facing the forest, looking into its shadows expectantly, eyes darting towards every flicker of movement.

Lilanthro did not want to keep them waiting. She took a deep breath and let out a clear, strong note of sound that expanded as she held it, growing in volume and richness of tone. The children leapt to their feet excitedly. “She’s here, she’s here!” They called to one another as they darted forwards a few steps and then stopped to look and listen again. Lilanthro sang another pearl of sound, allowing this one to trickle from one note to another forming a short melodic line. “She’s going to sing to us!” The children called out as they collectively decided to sit and await her appearance from out of the undergrowth.

They did not wait long. Lilanthro continued her song as she moved confidently without haste out of the shadows and into the clearing. The song began slowly and gently, one note following another, some as single droplets of simple tones, others flowing into rippling melodies of more complex notes. She sat down with the children in the centre of the clearing, while allowing her hands and arms to move expressively in accompaniment to her voice. As her song continued, its richness and complexity developed, as if the first note had been but a single bud which was now opening into a many petalled flower, with the most subtle of textures held within every single unfolding petal.

The children sat like statues, transfixed by her voice and its purity. Lilanthro could sing the most delicate notes and the most curving, spiralling melodies that they had ever heard. Her voice carried them along as if on a raft being washed downstream, with their bodies instinctively leaning forwards to catch every drop of the flowing, cascading, rippling river of sound all around them. Her song washed over them, through them and into the depths of their beings. It was as tinglingly alive as the youngest and most excitable of mountain streams that comes gushing out of the ground, bursting with energy and enthusiasm as it rushes downhill. It was as rich and beautiful as a waterfall pouring itself with abandonment down into a ravine, with the droplets of water catching the light of the sun and sparkling in a thousand colours and directions. It was as wild and strong as fast flowing rapids, pushing and tumbling their way through a rock strewn course, tearing at the riverbank and tossing branches along with them in their fierce flight. It was as all encompassing and generous as a wide, mature, meandering river flowing confidently and gracefully towards the sea. And it was as deep, mysterious and life-giving as the ocean itself that delights in dancing with the sun upon its surface while hiding the most powerful of currents in its depths.

It did not take long for the village adults to arrive. They too had been waiting for Lilanthro’s return and talking quietly to each other about it. Who was this girl? Was she friend or foe? Was she here to bring joy or anarchy to the village? Some of the adults were excited at the thought of her return, some uncertain, and some with stern questions for her. But as soon as they heard her voice floating through the air towards them, their questions evaporated and they moved as one towards the clearing at the edge of the village where Lilanthro sat amidst the circle of enchanted children. The adults quietly took their places in the circle and listened as intently as the most innocent youngster present.

Once they were all settled Lilanthro began to add words to her song. Gradually the listeners could discern stories that weaved themselves in and out of the melodies. Lilanthro sang of the river. Then she sang of the forest, the mountains, the meadows and the faraway lower lands. She sang of the trees, the flowers, the bushes and the ever-dancing grass. She sang of the sun and the wind, the rain and the storms, and the ever-changing clouds. She sang of the nighttime when shadows take hold of the land and stars grace the skies above. She sang of the creatures of the forest, of the wolves and owls, eagles and bears, deer and mice, butterflies and beetles. She sang of their lives and deaths, of predators and prey, of joys and struggles, of the beauty and the ugliness of nature.

Even more gradually, the theme of her song softly changed. With words, with tone of voice, with pure notes of emotion, Lilanthro sang of being human. She sang of living and dying, of persecutors and victims, of joys and struggles, of the beauty and the ugliness of being alive. She sang sweet melodies of sadness, deep utterings of fear, fierce calls of anger and expansive choruses of happiness. She sang of the exciting, fleeting moments in life when the mind and body rejoice in being alive and she sang of the day to day continuum of living, with its chores, hardships and boredoms, when the mind and body can forget the gift it has been given. Lilanthro’s song encompassed the wide extremes of living as well as the many shades in between, the frivolous moments, the depths, the heights, the surface, the centre and the spaces behind it all.

And then, just as her song reached its peak, it began to fade away. Almost unnoticeably the many melodies sank softly down. Underneath a line of happiness lay a note of anger. Underneath a note of anger lay a line of fear. As the fear died away, a note of sadness lived and died to leave beneath it a moment of uncertainty. And beneath the uncertain note lay an open space, with the merest hint of joyfulness and peace emanating from its depths. The melodies which had sounded so strong at the height of Lilanthro’s song now showed their true ephemeral nature and evaporated away. In their place silence began to arise. Lilanthro allowed her voice to sink lower and lower in both tone and volume, and to become once again single, pure notes that hung in the air for a moment or two before fading away. As each note faded she left more space between it and the next one, so that the sound became less and the silence became more. And then at last, came the last note, a crystal, clear note of the utmost beauty and purity which flowed out of silence and returned to silence.

And then there was no more.

The villagers sat without moving or speaking for a few moments longer before they noticed that the girl was no longer present. Somehow, she had crept out of their midst and faded back into the forest while they were still absorbed by the sound of silence. Before they had even fully realised the song had begun, it was now over and it was time to go to bed. The children found their parents, the parents found their children and together they went quietly to their huts to sleep.

Lilanthro watched them from her hiding place in the trees and whispered a good night to them before tucking herself up into a comfortable position. “That is all I have. Now I must wait and see if it will be enough”, she said to herself as she lay down to sleep and await the following day.

TO READ CHAPTER 12 CLICK HERE!

That evening when the villagers had just returned from their day’s work, as the sun was sinking low, the air was cooling and the land was settling comfortably into sleepiness, something unexpected appeared between the trees on the edge of the village.

A handful of children were playing in the clearing between the village and the forest when one of them called to the others, “What’s that?” They all stopped their playing to look where he pointed. At first it was impossible to determine what the shadow was that flitted so lightly through the undergrowth. One moment it was flowing out from behind a tree, then it had darted behind it only to appear moments later beside another tree. It appeared to the children like a cobweb that had magically come to life, so ethereally did it float and spin and leave trace forms in its wake.The children were not scared, something about the moving shadow resonated warmth, but they were filled with curiosity, “What are you?” they called, “Show yourself to us!”

And then the formless shadow was formless no longer but emerged from the undergrowth and began to move towards them. It was a girl. The centre of the shadow became her body, the outwardly spiralling cobwebs became her arms, the warmth filled her eyes. She smiled as she appeared before them and hovered for a moment as quiveringly still and full of grace as a candle flame suspended in the air.

Then suddenly she darted to one side and transformed her body’s shape and movements to imitate a bear who had wandered dazedly into the clearing and was now shaking itself and looking around in bemused puzzlement as to how it had got there. The children cried out with laughter; the girl was here to give them a show! The bear lumbered forwards a few steps and then stopped to look at the laughing children. It winked at them and in a flash was a bear no longer but had become a wolf, lean and proud and full of rippling energy that pulsated through its muscles as it moved. Seconds later the girl was a wolf no more but had become the most delicate of butterflies, landing lightly on imagined flowers and taking off again to fly with the softest of wings.

The children were enthralled. As Lilanthro moved playfully between her imitations of different forest animals they clapped and called out in delight, each one attempting to be the first to guess every creature. She had now moved into the centre of the clearing with children all around her. Their calls and laughter drew others near so that gradually the whole space filled up with excited faces and exuberant giggles.

As Lilanthro began to move towards the village, she changed her dance. No longer was she the creatures of the forest. Now she became the forest itself, with its solid trees, hanging vines and whispering leaves. She moved with the most silken of caresses as she became a bud about to open and shuddered freely as she became the wind shaking the branches. Then she was as strong and solid as the tallest of trees, with roots that twisted their way down into the ground and curved spaces within her body that could shelter an animal from the rain. Then she was the rain itself falling lightly onto the trampoline-like leaves, bouncing off and dropping to the ground.

One brave child could not help but start to copy her movements, and gradually others began to do likewise. Lilanthro delighted in this, exchanging mischievous glances with each child and slowly, subtly changing her dance so that she in turn began to mimic those around her. Between them their dance took shape. Lilanthro and the group of children magically transformed into one pulsating, energy-filled creature. Like a flock of birds in flight overhead or a school of fish darting upstream, the dancers sensed each other’s every move and responded in an instant.

By now, some of the adults had come out of their huts to see what the children were so excited about. Lilanthro began to lead the dancing, laughing, excitable group into the village itself, processing slowly but surely along the village’s central pathway. At times she moved with the children, copying their movements and weaving her body around theirs. At others, she returned to her own world for inspiration to lead a change in the pace and feeling of the dance. As she became aware of the presence of the adults, she slowed her movements and became even more intricately detailed in her every gesture. She let go of all form; no longer was she a deer, a blade of grass or a sudden flash of lightning. Instead she became simply a moving thread of colour and texture that wove its way through the space, under and over children, in and out of doorways, and around the watching adults.

Her body was hers but not hers. It spoke of things unseen and unheard, of invisible swirls in the air and flowing currents in the water. Of the sap rising in the plants and the pulsing of a human heart. Of the colour of feelings emerging and disappearing in the body and the quality of thoughts drifting through or hammering on the mind. Of an energy and presence that breathed life into her body and allowed her limbs to move but was also not her. She became everything that exists in the spaces between things.

The children were now confident enough to experiment freely with their own movements. Some continued their mimicry of animals and plants, others enjoyed the challenge of pretending to be the wind in the trees. And others still moved beyond literal forms to an exploration of their body’s ability to move in a hundred different ways and express a thousand different qualities. They moved with unselfconscious freedom and unfettered imagination.

The adults were open mouthed and wide eyed. What on earth was this? Their children were behaving as they had never behaved before and in their midst was this wild, feral girl able to combine fluidity, abandonment and authority in one spiralling body. No doubt if they had had the time to stop and think some would have been appalled by such a display of recklessness, others would have feared the spell that the girl was placing on the children, and some may have been furious at her audacity to dance her way so confidently into their midsts.

But it all happened so quickly that they did not have time to think and act, or even unthinkingly react. One moment they had been in their huts, preparing the food or recovering from the day’s hunt, the next they were outside surrounded by an enchantment which even they could not break. They were spellbound. As they stood and stared they each felt a wonderful pull of energy flowing through their bodies. Their toes and fingers tingled, their lungs filled with nourishing air, their hearts beat in time with the dance. Some became more still than their bodies and minds had known in a long time, some were moved by emotions they had not allowed out into the world for many a year, some felt blocks of granite-like pain and tiredness slipping gently from their bodies. They watched, they smiled, they laughed at and with the children, and some of them gleefully joined the dance.

For a short in-breath and out-breath of time every person in the village was aware only of this one unexpectedly, intoxicatingly alive moment. It felt different to each of them, as if striking different notes in the instruments of their bodies, while also uniting them in a shared moment of wonder; an orchestra playing in harmony.

And then Lilanthro reached the farthest end of the village. She had timed the procession perfectly. The darkness of night was descending to wrap the village and surrounding forest in its impenetrable velvet cloak. While the children still twirled and leapt and lunged to the ground, and the adults still watched transfixed or rippled with their own movement, Lilanthro softly melted back into the deepening shadows of the trees. She crept a little way away and silently climbed a tree so that she could watch the end of the villagers’ dance.

They continued for a while with joyful self-assurance and seemingly endless energy, until one child, the same boy who had been the first to spot her arrival, cried out “She’s gone!”

One by one the children stopped dancing as the adults shook themselves out of their dreamlike state. The children ran to their parents, took their hands and chatted unceasingly at them. “Did you see me dancing…? Who was that girl…? Where did she go…? Do you think she’ll come back again…? I danced like a wolf cub… Did you see me…? Can we do that again…?”

The adults ushered the children back to their homes while exchanging slightly puzzled glances with one another. “Who was that girl?” their expressions said, “Will she return?” their eyes asked. Lilanthro smiled to herself as she watched the crowd disperse. She caught a glimpse of Talas departing. He had been watching the spectacle from the back of the crowd the whole time and, as he turned to leave, Lilanthro was sure that he alone could see her hiding in the trees.

“Well, that went all right,” Lilanthro mused to herself, “Let’s see what they make of tomorrow…” And with that she settled comfortably into the embrace of the tree’s branches to sleep peacefully and await another new day…

TO READ CHAPTER 11 CLICK HERE!

The next morning when Lilanthro awoke she lay in the safety of the hammock, feeling her way into the new day just as the new day felt its way into the world. She was reassuringly calm after the events of the previous day. She was aware of the potency of her experiences sinking deeper into her body, of her mind beginning to digest the meanings within meanings of Talas’s story, of her heart feeling nourished, and of her spirit eager to learn more. Underneath all this, she felt a deep stillness that quietly watched the waves of her being ripple themselves into new places.

When Talas appeared in the doorway and made his way into the garden, she was ready for him and knew what the day would bring. Together they proceeded to faithfully enact their morning rituals, greeting the day and each other with gladness, tending lovingly to the plants, enlivening their bodies with graceful movements between the flowers and sharing themselves with the world around them. Talas was once more his lithe and flowing self, belying his great age with his every move. Lilanthro played her role with a self assurance that displayed a knowingness beyond her years.

After their morning tasks were complete they ate a simple breakfast, as easy in each other’s company as if they had known each other for a lifetime. However, Lilanthro was also aware of an expectant tension in the air; they had yet to focus on the central matters of the day. As they finished eating, Talas turned to Lilanthro and asked the question she had been waiting for.

“Lilanthro, last night you showed me great kindness in ordering me to my bed”, Talas spoke with his usual warm humour that wrapped every word in silken love. “I thank you, I feel wonderfully rested. Now, I remember offering to teach a young girl called Lilanthro to be more like herself. I remember her discovering that she had strange new thoughts and feelings that at times veiled her heart from being heard clearly. I remember her asking how to dance with the veils. I remember taking her to visit the old tree in the forest and telling her a story of its life. I remember her dancing and singing her way back home. Now, I wonder what she learned from all this and I wonder if she will be kind enough to tell me…?”

Lilanthro looked around her. The sun was shining, the birds were calling out a hundred different songs, the undergrowth rustled with life. The old, majestic tree stood in all its glory before her. The tree that she, Lilanthro, had been for a while, but now was not. The tree which had once been a tiny seed and would soon enough be rotting into the forest floor. And now she was back inside herself… But who was she? Who was this feral girl who had lived a life of wild, childlike oneness with the forest, who had happened upon the human world and become entangled in their web of complex emotions and behaviours, and who had met this old bearded man Talas, been given a name by him and lulled into an enchanted tapestry of brightly coloured thread, which left her spinning around the edges of herself?

She felt Talas’s eyes looking into her and she turned to meet his gaze.

“Talas……?” She began, completely at a loss for what to say.

Talas gave one of his sudden mischievous laughs and began gently prodding at her with one finger while calling out gently, “Lilanthro, Lilanthro, are you in there?” He continued to prod at her and tickle her until she could not help but laugh and began tickling him back. There followed a tickling match the likes of which had not been seen or heard in the depths of the forest for hundreds of years. Talas continued to poke and prod at her from head to toe. Even as she ducked away he somehow managed to reach a part of her body that made her squeal with laughter till her eyes were streaming. When she attempted to retaliate, she was amazed at how fast he could deftly escape her voraciously darting fingers. But once in a while she got him and he laughed a laugh very unlike his usual melting velvet tones. This laugh was high-pitched and boyish, as if he was once again a young child, unable to contain himself as laughter poured from his mouth like a bubbling mountain stream.

The tickling match continued until both protagonists were completely overcome with the giggles so that they sat with bodies shaking and eyes crying, clutching at their stomachs, still unable to stop the mirth tumbling from their mouths. Like waves on a beach that came and went of their own accord, the laughter ebbed away, then flowed uncontrollably back, and then ebbed away again. Gradually, in their own time, the waves found calm and stillness.

As the last trickles of laughter dissipated, Talas turned to Lilanthro and said, “It is time to leave. Let us thank our good friend here and depart.”

Lilanthro nodded. She ran to the tree and stood just beneath its swaying form. She looked up towards its highest reaches, placed her hands respectfully against its age worn trunk and whispered her gratitude to it. As she turned she saw Talas in stillness, head bowed, in his own silent moment of communion with the tree. And then together they set off through the forest.

They travelled calmly at first, in comfortable, companionable silence. Lilanthro was aware of a lightness in her body as she moved. Gone for the time being were her questions and wildly spinning self. Her mind was still and clear, not fixed on anything in particular, her emotions freely flowing between a gentle contentment and curious alertness to the forest’s energy pulsing into her. She felt centred and calm with her heart open within her.

After they had been walking a short while Lilanthro felt a circulation of energy building within her. Her body began to tingle from her core to her extremities and she had an urge to move more energetically than their walking pace allowed. She sensed Talas’s smile even before she looked at him and knew that he felt her alive exuberance straining to be let out.

“Well, come on then, wild, free Lilanthro. Show me your dance!” He challenged her.

With a carefree laugh, Lilanthro accepted the challenge. In a flash she was off, darting amongst the trees, letting out a joyful cry as she went. Talas walked with calm amusement as Lilanthro spun tricks around him. She leapt gracefully over fallen trees, rocks and other obstacles and curved herself under low hanging branches. She climbed trees like a cat and swung on vines, arcing eloquently through space. She darted suddenly out of sight and reappeared in unexpected places. Her arms carved spirals in the air as she moved, her body undulated serpent like, in and out of every space. She never missed her footing or hesitated for an instant, her feet carried her smoothly, effortlessly from place to place. Lilanthro’s dance combined fluidity with speed as easily as flickering tongues of flames pulsing with heat.

As she moved she started to sing. She called to her friends of the forest. She spoke to the animals and plants in a strange language shared only between them and her. She uttered melodies that echoed the call of birds and sung startling notes that rippled through every leaf on every tree. She spoke and sung to Talas a lilting story of her life in the forest, naming the creatures to him and telling him the secrets of their characters. She wove patterns in the air with her body and her voice, a translation of the forest’s deep energy into human form and expression.

As their journey continued, Lilanthro’s dance became softer. No longer did she leap in total abandonment or play hide and seek with Talas. Every movement became a tender gesture of care and attention. Her body expressed an ever circling flow of beauty combined with strength. Curving protectively inwards, unfolding expansively outwards, spiralling from high to low to high again, drawing energy in to her centre and sending it outwards to touch the world around her. Her hands lingered gently on the trees and plants, her feet trod with respect over roots and leaves. Every note she sang was filled with warmth and emotion. Her melodies flowed soothingly outwards, caressing the forest. She sang a lover’s song of unconditional acceptance and gratitude.

The sun was sinking low in the sky as they approached the village. Talas stretched as he neared his home and stroked his hand delicately over his forehead and cheek. It had been a long day and one in which he had laughed as if he were still a boy but had also been reminded of the long span of years that he had walked the Earth. Lilanthro came close to him and held out her hand. He took it gratefully and she led him the last stretch of the way, sending her energy into him and guiding his tired feet on the path. As they reached the garden Lilanthro let go of his hand so she could run to the gate and open it respectfully for him. He smiled a gentle end of the day smile at her and entered the oasis of his garden. He walked with more care than usual and for the first time Lilanthro could see the age in his body as he moved.

“Ah!” Talas sighed as he sat down on the bench where he and Lilanthro had spent many hours together, “It feels good to be home. Now come and sit beside me Lilanthro and talk to me. I seem to remember promising to help you become more like yourself… I am wondering if I have done so. What kind of creature is Lilanthro I wonder… I think I would like to know her… Perhaps she will be kind enough to share with me her knowledge of who she is…?”

But Lilanthro shook her head. “I will gladly do so Talas, but not today. The day has been long and we are both tired. Let us sleep and tomorrow I will tell you all I have learned.”

“You mean I am tired!” Laughed Talas, “Thank you Lilanthro, you are being kind to an old man who does not have your gift of youth to sustain him. Very well, bed it is, and tomorrow we shall greet the sun together and then you can teach me a thing or two I am sure.”

“Good night Talas, and thank you. May I sleep in your garden tonight in the hammock which you offered when I first arrived?”

“It is always yours Lilanthro, and it will gladly hold you safe till morning.”

With that they parted and each went to their bed, Talas to sleep deeply and hear the voice of home calling him, Lilanthro to dream of tapestries weaving themselves into life, a perfect multicoloured thread dancing a pattern out of which solid forms arose and dissolved away again… A never ending undulating motion like waves upon a beach… Or laughter ebbing and flowing…

TO READ CHAPTER 9 CLICK HERE!