Initio Somnii
(working title)
Written by THE ONE - Littlewolf
Copyright SpankMyPatronus Pty Ltd for the sole usage purpose of spiritual enlightenment with the exception of oil rigs, brothels, juvenile detention
centers, the ATS political forums, public schools located along the Australian eastern seaboard, open plan offices, toilet cubicle walls and other
places where the forces of darkness are simply too strong.
All names have been changed to protect the innocent (you know the ones). All subjects which may breach ATS T&Cs have been changed into fantastical
literary creations at the author’s discretion. The author reserves the right to stop for a meditative break consisting of a single malt scotch and a
stick of Marlboro’s finest at anytime during the following proceedings.
Though written in third person, this is a true and honest account of the author’s journey through life thus far. Third person was just the way the
story seemed to ‘flow’, and allows for the fact that maybe, just maybe, it all could just happen to you as well….
Part 1: Gignesthai
It was a time not too different to that you and I are familiar with now, a time when men were men, and women were…… um…… not. Children ruled
the streets and travelled in roving packs moving from creeks to abandoned houses to parks filled with dangerous playground equipment such as seesaws,
jungle gyms and merry-go-rounds. The ‘X-box’ was but a twinkle in some Japanese game designer’s eye and as such kids were forced to fill their
time with grueling outdoor play regimes which usually consisted of a lot of running, climbing, bike riding and other needless physical activity. Games
utilized rudimentary tools such as trees, balls, chalk and sticks; and the main outlet one had imagination-wise was to be found in quaint little
bundles of printed paper known as books. It was 1993, and though times were far from ideal, the world was yet to become the paranoid place full of
preoccupations and mistrust it is today……
A pale thin boy with green eyes and dark hair entered the school library.
“Back already Littlewolf” remarked Ms. Bespectacled flatly, “This must be the fourth time this week alone”.
“Yeah I’ve finished reading it” he said as he reached into his school bag and brought out book entitled ‘Monsters, Ghosts, Witches and other
Denizens of the Supernatural World’.
“Already! You only borrowed it out 2 days ago”
“I know. I want to get another one.”
“I hope you’re leaving enough time for your school work”
The dark haired boy placed the book in the ‘return’ slot and wandered in through the book-laden shelves. He didn’t have many friends in this
school and had found some comfort within the confines of his own imagination along with the help of Tolkien, Eddings, Pratchett and Douglas Adams. He
had also just discovered a new favorite – C. S. Lewis.
“He’s a strange boy, obviously quite smart, but they tell me he doesn’t focus very well in class” said the librarian quietly to her assistant
Miss Plump. “He’s always borrowing fantasy novels or monster books or something along those lines”
What they didn’t realize was the boy was behind a row of books right next to the library counter listening to every word they were saying.
“I heard his father ran out on the family when he was only 2. They’ve never heard from him since” Miss Plump whispered. “He was a doctor and
now his mother is looking after him and his two brothers all by herself. I think one of the brothers is autistic as well so Littlewolf spends a lot of
his time looking after him while his mother has to work”
“Well no wonder he’s strange. A nine year old should never have so much responsibility placed on him. If you ask me…”
“I’ll take this one!” said Littlewolf with a slightly raised voice as he stepped out from behind the book shelf, and nearly threw the book –
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe - across the counter. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand it was criticism of his unusual family situation
and he wanted to make it quite obvious he’d overheard every word they were saying. He could see the librarian narrow her gaze despite her thick
glasses, and Miss Plump just stood there with her mouth slightly ajar before hurriedly beginning to sort through the returns.
“Careful Littlewolf, we wouldn’t want to damage it now would we”.
The boy waited impatiently for her to scan it and give him back his card before grabbing the book from the counter and marching out the door.
“Stupid bitches” he muttered to himself, angry that these two busybodies were in charge of the one place he felt solace.
He glanced around and looked up at the mural painted on the side of the library wall. It had been painted by the religious education instructors and
across the top it read
But Jesus called unto him and said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for such is the kingdom of God.”
Luke 18:16
Littlewolf had never had much exposure to Christianity, but he had always felt some comfort in those words.
------------------------------------
Part 2: The Experience That Became Me
Nervously, the two adults stood in front of the gangly teen.
“Littlewolf, we’ve got something to tell you. Um………your mother and I…….”
Littlewolf looked up from the television for a just moment, regarding the two adults in a way only 16 year old boys do, before turning back to the
screen. He knew exactly what they were going to say and was in mixed minds about it.
“Me and Thashfayer have decided to get married Wolf,” finished his mother quickly. “Are you okay? We’ve been together for nearly 3 years now,
we just thought …….”
“Yeah mom I’m okay”
“Are you sure Wolf?” Thashfayer interjected, “Of course I don’t expect you to call me dad or anything”.
“Yeah I’m happy for you guys. Congratulations. That’s great” the boy replied, trying to feign as much excitement as possible.
Later that evening Thashfayer knocked on Littlewolf’s door.
“Damnit” Littlewolf muttered as he quickly he tried to find his pants while hiding the tissues and the magazines at the same time. “Just a
minute” he called.
“Okay, you can come in”
Thashfayer entered and sat down on a chair near the bed. He talked about how much Littlewolf’s mother meant to him, how they probably wouldn’t get
married for a while anyway due to money, and a bunch of other stuff before saying “Maybe you should come to one of our gatherings? I know you may
find my beliefs kinda strange, but your mother’s told me of your interests and they may even help you find some grounding”
“I’ll think about it…..um…..I’ll let you know”
Thashfayer got up and started walking toward the bedroom door. “Don’t think about it too long” he said, “The next full moon is only 3 days
away…”
Truth be told Littlewolf couldn’t have been more excited. Thashfayer headed a Wiccan group called ‘The Temple of the Lunar Web’ and owned 20
acres of beautiful pasture and rainforest where he lived in a small but idealic little cottage with a cast iron fireplace and stained glass windows.
On the property in the forest he’d built a large magic circle encircled by standing stones within a bend in the stream which ran through the forest.
There was also an old dairy which he’d converted into a bunkhouse where assorted pagan hippy types could stay for free. A lot of hot teen-witch
wannabe’s also frequented the place which was always an added bonus.
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Part 3: The Awakening
It was nearly midnight and an 18 year old Littlewolf stole along the narrow path through the forest which lead from Thashfayer’s small cottage
toward the stone circle. It was New Years Eve and having partied continually since Christmas Littlewolf had actually decided to opt out this night. He
needed to be alone. The moon was hidden behind some clouds and the air was warm and thick with humidity.
He’d lived on and off at the cottage for the past two years now and despite being privy to the most amazing sights and experiences in the time
he’d spent there he was beginning to get a little disillusioned by the whole pagan scene. He’d ask questions about life, death, God so on and get
20 different answers. Even Thashfayer didn’t seem to know it all. When pressed for details about the Goddess and the Horned God, or questioned
regarding the real significance of athame’s and wine filled chalices he’d either regurgitate the same lines Littlewolf had heard 1000 times prior
or just get really vague and start spouting out stuff about the ‘Source’. Nobody seemed to have any real answers and yet somehow they all seemed
quite content in their ignorance.
In his rucksack Littlewolf carried a simple bronze censer, his wand made of tortured willow, some matches and a strange concoction he’d made from
various aromatic herbs with certain significances crushed amongst cicada shells. Cicadas are an insect which spend the majority of their time living
underground and on warm summer nights they tunnel to the surface and shed their outer skin before flying off into the night to find a mate. To
Littlewolf the cicada shells symbolized rebirth – a new beginning, a lifting of the darkness, a glimpse through the veil….
He ritually cleansed the area and cast his circle with the willow wand. He then lit a small fire under the censer and with a few key words emptied his
cicada shell and herb mixture into it. Allowing the smoke to waft through the air he sat cross legged, shut his eyes and begun chanting a mantra.
The aroma from the smoke was sickly sweet yet pungently acrid and began to fill the circle as the power generated from Littlewolf’s chanting grew
stronger and stronger. Littlewolf had opened his eyes by then and noticed a fine mist had joined the smoke which hung in the still night air almost
expectantly.
When Littlewolf sensed the circle had nearly reached it’s fill of power he stood up, and holding the willow wand aloft, he released the gathered
energy with a final shout of intention to the universe and sank back to the ground exhausted.
He had just begun to think “What now…” when a slight breeze bristled through the trees. It was a wind of change, of new adventure and
experiences and it seemed to almost diverge around the circle before doubling back and carrying the mist and smoke away.
And then Littlewolf looked up. Sitting above him on a low hanging bough were three powerful
owls
*. Their large yellow eyes stared at him with an aloof disregard, and Littlewolf was not
completely sure what to think. Had they been there the whole time? What was their purpose in attending? Littlewolf thought he’d been completely
alone the whole time and felt blessed such creatures had chosen to join him in his nighttime ritual.
The owls continued to stare down at him and it was then Littlewolf stepped backwards a few paces before silently thanking them for their presence. For
a moment he thought he saw them all lower their heads in turn, and then the largest of the three raised a clawed foot and scratched itself under its
right wing.
A single feather of down floated through the air from the owl toward the censer. It danced for a few moments in the heated air rising from the remains
of the fire before catching a flame. The down feather was consumed in a bright flare which illuminated the circle and the remaining ash was carried
far up into the tree-tops.
The owls all seemed to nod toward him and then the largest alighted into the air and flew off through the trees, closely followed by the remaining
two. And so Littlewolf was left alone in the dark with his thoughts.
“I think” he said to himself “I’m going to have to leave home”.
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Part 4: Requiem for a Lost Life
The past three years had opened Littlewolf’s eyes up to the true nature of the world in ways that few people could imagine. Soon after finishing
school he’d gained a confidence in himself which he had never before possessed and far from being the ‘skinny weird kid’ with few friends, he
had matured into a tall young man and now had more friends than he’d ever had throughout his entire life.
His green eyes were now hazel, his dark hair was long and twisted into a wild array of braids and dreadlocks, and his pale skin was marked by numerous
tattoos.
But the years hadn’t by any means been ‘smooth sailing’. After leaving home, he soon became too distracted by easy methods to escape reality to
ever really hold down a proper job. Joining the ‘real’ world was far from his mind anyway, but his reliance on these distractions just to make it
through the day made it near impossible. He managed to survive through doing odd jobs such as gardening or laboring, through occasionally distributing
the distractions to others and various other surreptitious means.
Littlewolf ‘had no fixed address’; all his worldly possessions were contained within a small backpack and when he slept it was on friend’s couch
or in various squats. Food more often than not consisted of whatever could be scavenged from various supermarket or restaurant dumpsters, and it had
probably been nearly 6 months since he’d contacted anyone from his family.
And so it was on moonlit night he found himself in a heavily forested park surrounded by a core group of his friends. Strangely enough it was a park
close to his old home, and one he remembered fondly from his childhood as a place he used to catch tadpoles, climb trees and build cubby houses with
his brothers.
“Check it out, these have only just hit town, a mate of mine actually dipped them himself and these are from the bottom of the sheet so they should
be pretty strong”. Littlewolf rummaged through his pack and produced a snap-lock bag containing the distractions, tossing them onto the table top.
“Wow, what are they called?” Ninox cooed in a sarcastic sultry manner only she could manage, despite all of them having being up continuously on
peri-snort and whizfangers for the previous three nights.
“Ramshubabooboo’s. Although I guess you could just call them Ramshubs”
“I like the first one, what was it, Ramshaba.....”
“Booboos”
“Yeah that’s the one”
Mushrooms leaned in closer and lifted the baggy up towards the moonlight.
“Interesting pic they’ve got”
“They’re all different. The sheet itself had a large picture of some Celtic-type tree design so each one will be have a different part of the
design”
“Okay then, give us two” called a voice from behind them. Tagrag and his latest trophy chick had returned from doing God knows what in the trees,
and they were walking, half stumbling toward them. Tagrag clutched a bottle of Johnny Walker Red in one hand and was nearly dragging the
semi-conscious girl with his other.
“I’ve been told that one is more than enough” Littlewolf replied
“No, one for Bimtessa as well” Littlewolf looked at the girl just as she tripped and grabbed onto Tagrags’s jacket, nearly pulling him over as
well.
“I’m not wasting anything on her. After the past few days I don’t even think she would notice”.
Bimtessa looked up vaguely and laughed before Tagrag lowered her the rest of the way to the ground.
“Look at her, she can’t even stand, you could probably do anything to her right now and she wouldn’t even register”
“I know” said Tagrag with a smirk
“Your disgusting” Ninox muttered, “Look just stick her under the bench over there on my shawl, but leave her head on the grass. I’m not gonna
be the one cleaning spew off it the next morning.”
“Treat ‘em, mean Nin…”
The night progressed into a wonderment of moving shadows, breathing trees and opalescent colors. Never had any of them laughed so much, occasionally
each would disappear into the night on some half attempt at an adventure but the wooden table in the park was like a sanctuary which eventually called
them all back.
The night grew lighter yet cooler and the Ramshubs began to wear off. It would be morning soon and Littlewolf got up to and headed toward the nearby
trees to relieve himself. He had a cigarette in one hand and was madly chewing gum in order to prevent his restless jaw grinding his teeth down to
stumps.
All at once he spat the gum, flicked the cigarette and unleashed his bladder on a particular rock in front of him. And then the rock opened one eye.
“What are you doing dear child? Why do you defile me” a soft feminine voice sounded in his head
“Oh my God” thought Littlewolf, shocked, “I’m pissing on Mother Nature.”
“You used to be one of brightest pupils, remember the days of catching fireflies and lacewings? Of tender innocence beneath the moon, of magic not
reliant on the distractions? What happened to those days? What happened to my dear little wolf cub?”
Littlewolf couldn’t speak. A lump rose in his throat as he remembered the past. Days of unaided merriment, of sly glances back at him over a
beautiful girl’s shoulder. He remembered Almondeyes, the girl who refused to follow him down the rabbit hole. Was she still waiting? What would he
do now? Lost in his thoughts, tears began to well in his eyes. One escaped, running down his left cheek.
Littlewolf glanced back to the table of raucous laughter. These were the people who had accompanied him down the slippery slope, had been with him
when he tamed guard dogs with food scraps in order to access particularly nice squats. Who’d been with him as he spray-painted train carriages,
carried him on as he ran from the cops and dragged him to medical centers on particularly heady nights when he’d been overcome.
A lighter flashed and he saw they’d found the last of the peri-snort. The razor and mirror glinted eagerly in the moonlight, beckoning him back to
the table.
“They’re not my people” he thought, “They’re never gonna be my people. They just don’t get it.”
But who then were his people? Was he destined to walk this Earth alone? He’d been there before and it wasn’t a place he wanted to return.
“You have us little wolf cub” whispered the soft feminine voice again, fading into the predawn chorus.
Littlewolf looked back as the rock closed its eye. His view then widened to take in the trees, branches swaying back and forth in the cool night air.
Looking up he saw the stars, the twinkling white glow of the Milky Way stretched wide above his head. The moon emerged as the clouds shifted in the
heavens. It was the same moon he’d chanted under, that had lit his path through many a magical walk along forgotten forest paths and kept watch over
countless a secret rituals.
And Littlewolf knew then what he had to do. He must rejoin the world he’d run from for so long, the world that had once pointed and laughed at him
all those years ago. He must join it and master it, lest he forever lose himself to the illusions of freedom he’d created around him.
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Part 5: The Now and Forever
Five years had passed since that fateful night. The dreads had long been shaved; the feet had grown soft and could no longer walk across bare earth
without shoes. Littlewolf had finished university with two degrees, and been granted a job with a salary which many people work all their lives to
attain.
Almondeyes had born him a fine baby boy, and they were due to be married in October. Life was good, and yet there was still something missing……
Littlewolf reached the top of a small cliff at the base of a valley in the scrub outside his home. There he had a little spot where he would often
walk to when he needed to escape the humdrum of everyday life. It was a beautiful little clearing of remnant dry rainforest, a place of high energy
and ancient secrets. It had been revealed to him on one of his many forest treks by three very familiar looking owls that were perched together above
it on a low hanging tree bough.
Littlewolf had cleared it of weeds and undergrowth, and created a circle of standing stones in the center. Some pagan friends used to join him there
but he had all but left that chapter of his life behind now. These days only he ever ventured out there, occasionally to meditate, usually though just
to relax.
It was a damp rainy day and the mosquitoes were rife, so Littlewolf decided to try and light a small fire in the hopes the smoke would keep them at
bay. But the wood was sodden and the leaves were wet so just he laid out his blanket. Ensuring all exposed skin was covered; he poured himself a glass
of merlot, sat back and just chilled.
On the journey in through the scrub, he’d had a sense of déjà vu and his mind had wandered back to a particular night long ago on New Year’s Eve
when he stole through the forest on that warm humid night.
Now relaxing under the soft green light cast by the trees his mind began to contemplate strange mystical thoughts like the nature of God, the universe
and all things cosmic; things he really hadn’t thought about in a very long time. He began to feel quite 'light' and noticed the colors of the
forest were much more vivid than usual. The hum of insects filled the air, and he got up and wandered over to the stream that runs in a semi-circle
around the spot. Off to the side there is a little pool where wild birds and other forest creatures often drink from.
As Littlewolf walked down and sat next to the water he disturbed a group of red-browed
finches
* playing in the pool. Feeling actually a little guilty for interrupting them, he
looked up to the branch where they looked down at him almost angrily and apologized for the disturbance he’s caused.
“Sorry my little friends, you know I would never harm you” he said in his mind.
And then something wonderful happened.
One of the little finches took flight and landed neatly on his shoulder, and then another flew down and landed on his shoe. Littlewolf stared in
wonder and held out an outstretched hand to a third who also flew down and alighted on his palm. That was enough for the rest and they all came down
and returned to playing in the pool. Littlewolf could not believe what was happening and this lifted his spirit to heights he had not felt in years.
During his days at Thashfayer’s cottage he had seen many inexplicable things happen but this was totally on the next level.
It was all very personal, and truly magical; and unlike anything else he’d experienced was not called into being by any conscious effort. He felt
the love, a truly cosmic love and the energy of the universe poured into him like a fountain. After a while the birds left. They’d had their fun,
and Littlewolf got up and walked up the small cliff on the other side of the stream which overlooked the stone circle. There he could see the blanket
he’d laid out, his back pack and the sodden pile of sticks which he tried to build a fire out of.
His mind was still buzzing from his encounter with the birds, and everything - every tree, every bush, even his own hand was surrounded by a soft
yellow-pink glow. Slowly he took his hand and pointed it at the damp pile of sticks and actually seemed to be able to sense the molecules of carbon
and other matter that made up the wood in the heart of the pile. Almost unconsciously he willed them to vibrate faster and faster and after a while
smoke began pouring out of the pile. He continued to speed them up and to his amazement a large orange flame leapt up from the centre of the pile and
began to engulf the rest of the wood.
And there he was, caught between utter disbelief and some all encompassing wisdom that he could truly do anything if he put his mind to it. It was all
he could do to make his way back down the cliff.
Littlewolf cozied up in his blanket and spent the remaining few hours in this state of all loving and all knowing. Eventually however the forest
became less vivid and the colors more or less returned to normal. Nighttime began to set in. He got up, packed his up belongings, and started to
wander home. Life already began to seem ordinary again, and he cast his mind back to those wild days when all he had was his clothes and his backpack.
“What the hell am I doing with my life,” he thought. He missed the freedom, the adventure, and feared he’d been finally caught in the rat race.
A softly familiar feminine voice whispered in his head.
“You rejoined the world in order to master it, to awaken; not to get lost in a different illusion”
It was a voice he hadn’t heard in many years, and once again it filled him with emotion.
“You have always been free little wolf cub. You just have to realize it. Remember sweet child; always look for what is beautiful in the world. This
will be your guide. There is beauty and power - your power - within all things. You just have to open your eyes……”
And again the voice was gone, drowned out by a loud chorus of cicadas which began to fill the nighttime air.
Littlewolf finally made it back home. Almondeyes looked up at him and smiled.
“Have fun bushman? Costa’s in bed. Look at you you’re soaking; and damn you stink like campfire. Saved you some dinner by the way”.
“Thanks babe” he replied as Almondeyes went back to clearing up the kitchen. Littlewolf looked at her and saw a beauty that he hadn’t noticed in
years. Smiling to himself he walked up to the shower.
And so life continues. There are ups and downs, and much of it could be mistaken for being quite ‘ordinary’. But something changed in Littlewolf
that day and continued to color his view of the world from that day forward. Nothing quite so beautiful has ever happened to him since. But then again
it probably doesn’t need to………
edit on 8/8/12 by masqua because: edit by author request