#I continue to worship at the altar of black sails
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My Sea of Thieves pirate.
#sea of thieves#a rare case in which I LOVE how this turned out#I am not surprised as I used yet another black sails screenshot as reference#I continue to worship at the altar of black sails
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A Witch’s Ingredients: Sand
Sand is an abundant resource that can be found across the world including along the coasts, through deserts and even in many people’s yards and gardens. Sand is rather easy to obtain and natural making it ideal for witchcraft. Though some types of sand may be harder to obtain, and more costly, than others, let this post be a guide on how to utilize it for its magical properties.
Types of Sand & Their Correspondences
Beach/Coastal Sand: calming, grounding, cleansing, connecting to the sea, self-love, protection and warding, motivation, memory, spiritual clarity, purification of the heart, easing pain, physical and spiritual strength, can represent both the elements of earth and water
Ocean Sand (from the ocean floor/deep sea): primordial energy, banishing negative emotions and energy, grounding, mental clarity, psychic clarity and strengthening, divination, guidance, ancient wisdom and power, connections to the sea and primordial waters, birth, creation, can represent both the elements of earth and water
Desert Sand: curses and removing energy from others, weakening, draining, banishing, grounding, mental clarity, physical health, enduring hardships, “drying up” love and past emotions, healing heartbreak, burying the past, often related to burial ceremonies
Volcanic Sand: destruction, intense energy, strength, death, rebirth, banishing, secrets or hidden messages, warding, baneful magic, offensive magic, often represents both earth and fire at once
River Sand/Silt: fertility, procreation, movement, flowing energy, travels, change
Lake/Pond Sand: the present, calmness, serenity, inner focus, self-reflection and meditation
Swamp/Wetland Sand: mystery, secret keeping, silencing lies and rumors, binding, curses related to becoming lost or emotional heaviness, often represents both water and earth at once, often related to animal magic specifically those that live in swamp land
Unearthed/Buried Sand: grounding, hidden power, addressing past issues and mistakes, overcoming controversy, self-discovery, introspection, emotional healing, moving on from past scars
Biogenic Sand/Bone Sand/Shell Sand: healing, moving on emotionally, remembrance but letting go of the pain and loss, honoring those lost (often at or to the sea), close connections to necromancy
Black Sand: protection, warding, banishing, relates to necromancy and spirit work
Pink Sand: love, beauty, youth, harmony, adjusting to change, remembering the past and lost loved ones, rebirth, emotional and mental healing, forgiveness of self and others
Red Sand: strength, courage, valor, relates to fire rather than earth
Yellow Sand: divination, focus, improving memory and skills, mental health, grounding and centering, represents both earth and air elements sometimes both at once
White Sand: purity, cleansing, protection, wisdom, preparing for change, physical and emotional balance, harmonizes all aspects of oneself
Combinations of Sand and Other Ingredients
Sand and Soil: grounding, balance, cleansing, protection of loved ones and family
Sand and Salt: change, growing power, dreams, purification, warding, protection, longevity
Sand and Ash: remembrance, the past, divination
Sand and Clay: change, mental fortitude
Sand and Kelp/Seaweed: beauty, youth, birth, fertility, the ocean
The History
Not much history on the use of sand in magic from what I can find that is a reliable source, but I was able to find some bits about its use.
Sand has been used in connections to rituals for the dead and in burial practices in many different cultures to a varying degree. In some sand was used for burying the deceased such as very early Ancient Egypt for its mummification properties before better mummification methods were invented and utilized. Placing sand into graves or coffins of the deceased somethings as a means to connect them to their homelands if that person was traveling into foreign lands or countries. Some stories speak about mixing the ashes of the dead with sand to be kept in the home. Other stories tell of people mixes ashes from fires or the hearth with sand and casting it out into the sea for lost sailors who could not be brought home.
Sand was also used historical in some types of spell jars and vessels. In some places sand was put into jars and bottles and given to sailors to keep them connected to home even when sailing. Others said carrying sand could protect one from being lost at sea or from disaster, likely where the history of sand being used for protection properties came from. It has also been used in witch’s bottles and for burying spells for varying purposes. Some cultures would bury offerings to deities into the sand of beaches or deserts.
Modern Use
Sand is still a common ingredient for many sea witches and worshipers of ocean related deities to utilize in their craft and in their altars. Deities commonly related to sand are Poseidon, Aphrodite, Psamathe, Thalassa, Aegir, Neptune and Veles. Sand is also often used in altars to represent either earth or water when representing the cardinal directions or the 4 elements. Some will use sand to represent both in cases of smaller altars.
Modernly, sand is often used in spell jars and bottles when used in spellwork or as a vessel to charge, cleanse and bury objects or tools such as crystals, poppets, amulets and trinkets. Sea witches or witches with accesses to large amount of sand will often use it for grounding and circle casting. Some will use it for runes and sigils as well.
Storing Sand
For those wishing to store and use collected sand ensure that there is nothing undesirable in it - garbage, sharp bits of glass, decomposing fish or animals, insects etc. Shift it thoroughly to ensure anything that could be potentially dangerous is removed and if needed properly disposed of. Once the sand has been shifted ensure it is dry before you seal it into anything.
Wet sand can house bacteria and mold - which can also smell quite foul when the container is opened again. You can use the sun to dry it or indoor heaters at a safe distance. Spread it out thin and flat to help ensure it is thoroughly dried if it is damp or wet.
Once dried the best way to store sand is inside of glass or ceramic vessels. Jars and bottles are the most ideal. Ensure that they are sealed tightly to ensure no spillage or condensation can get inside.
**this post was personally researched, compiled and directly from my personal grimoire. Please do not repost**
Like my blog and posts? Feel free to support continued content on this blog by donating to my Ko-Fi page! Or ask me for my paypal!
#witchcraft#correspondences#masterpost#long post#sand#magic#magick#sea witches#sea magic#sea witchcraft#ocean witchcraft#desert witchcraft#witchcraft history#history of witchcraft#ingredients#spell ingredients#a witch's ingredients series#Willow's Grimoire
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Fortuna (Latin: Fortūna, equivalent to the Greek goddess Tyche) is the goddess of fortune and the personification of luck in Roman religion who, largely thanks to the Late Antique author Boethius, remained popular through the Middle Ages until at least the Renaissance. The blindfolded depiction of her is still an important figure in many aspects of today's Italian culture, where the dichotomy fortuna / sfortuna (luck / unluck) plays a prominent role in everyday social life, also represented by the very common refrain "La [dea] fortuna è cieca" (latin Fortuna caeca est; "Luck [goddess] is blind").
Fortuna is often depicted with a gubernaculum (ship's rudder), a ball or Rota Fortunae (wheel of fortune, first mentioned by Cicero) and a cornucopia (horn of plenty). She might bring good or bad luck: she could be represented as veiled and blind, as in modern depictions of Lady Justice, except that Fortuna does not hold a balance. Fortuna came to represent life's capriciousness. She was also a goddess of fate: as Atrox Fortuna, she claimed the young lives of the princeps Augustus' grandsons Gaius and Lucius, prospective heirs to the Empire.[1] (In antiquity she was also known as Automatia.)[2]
Fortuna's father was said to be Jupiter and like him, she could also be bountiful (Copia). As Annonaria she protected grain supplies. June 11 was consecrated to her: on June 24 she was given cult at the festival of Fors Fortuna.[4][5] Fortuna's name seems to derive from Vortumna (she who revolves the year).[citation needed]
Roman writers disagreed whether her cult was introduced to Rome by Servius Tullius[6] or Ancus Marcius.[7] The two earliest temples mentioned in Roman Calendars were outside the city, on the right bank of the Tiber (in Italian Trastevere). The first temple dedicated to Fortuna was attributed to the Etruscan Servius Tullius, while the second is known to have been built in 293 BC as the fulfilment of a Roman promise made during later Etruscan wars.[8] The date of dedication of her temples was 24 June, or Midsummer's Day, when celebrants from Rome annually floated to the temples downstream from the city. After undisclosed rituals they then rowed back, garlanded and inebriated.[9] Also Fortuna had a temple at the Forum Boarium. Here Fortuna was twinned with the cult of Mater Matuta (the goddesses shared a festival on 11 June), and the paired temples have been revealed in the excavation beside the church of Sant'Omobono: the cults are indeed archaic in date.[10] Fortuna Primigenia of Praeneste was adopted by Romans at the end of 3rd century BC in an important cult of Fortuna Publica Populi Romani (the Official Good Luck of the Roman People) on the Quirinalis outside the Porta Collina.[11] No temple at Rome, however, rivalled the magnificence of the Praenestine sanctuary.
Fortuna's identity as personification of chance events was closely tied to virtus (strength of character). Public officials who lacked virtues invited ill-fortune on themselves and Rome: Sallust uses the infamous Catiline as illustration – "Truly, when in the place of work, idleness, in place of the spirit of measure and equity, caprice and pride invade, fortune is changed just as with morality".[12]
An oracle at the Temple of Fortuna Primigena in Praeneste used a form of divination in which a small boy picked out one of various futures that were written on oak rods. Cults to Fortuna in her many forms are attested throughout the Roman world. Dedications have been found to Fortuna Dubia (doubtful fortune), Fortuna Brevis (fickle or wayward fortune) and Fortuna Mala (bad fortune).
Fortuna is found in a variety of domestic and personal contexts. During the early Empire, an amulet from the House of Menander in Pompeii links her to the Egyptian goddess Isis, as Isis-Fortuna.[13] She is functionally related to the god Bonus Eventus,[14] who is often represented as her counterpart: both appear on amulets and intaglio engraved gems across the Roman world. In the context of the early republican period account of Coriolanus, in around 488 BC the Roman senate dedicated a temple to Fortuna on account of the services of the matrons of Rome in saving the city from destruction.[15] Evidence of Fortuna worship has been found as far north as Castlecary, Scotland[16] and an altar and statue can now be viewed at the Hunterian Museum in Glasgow.[17]
The earliest reference to the Wheel of Fortune, emblematic of the endless changes in life between prosperity and disaster, is from 55 BC.[18] In Seneca's tragedy Agamemnon, a chorus addresses Fortuna in terms that would remain almost proverbial, and in a high heroic ranting mode that Renaissance writers would emulate:
O Fortune, who dost bestow the throne's high boon with mocking hand, in dangerous and doubtful state thou settest the too exalted. Never have sceptres obtained calm peace or certain tenure; care on care weighs them down, and ever do fresh storms vex their souls. ... great kingdoms sink of their own weight, and Fortune gives way ‘neath the burden of herself. Sails swollen with favouring breezes fear blasts too strongly theirs; the tower which rears its head to the very clouds is beaten by rainy Auster. ... Whatever Fortune has raised on high, she lifts but to bring low. Modest estate has longer life; then happy he whoe’er, content with the common lot, with safe breeze hugs the shore, and, fearing to trust his skiff to the wider sea, with unambitious oar keeps close to land.[19]
Ovid's description is typical of Roman representations: in a letter from exile[20] he reflects ruefully on the “goddess who admits by her unsteady wheel her own fickleness; she always has its apex beneath her swaying foot.”
Fortuna did not disappear from the popular imagination with the ascendancy of Christianity.[21] Saint Augustine took a stand against her continuing presence, in the City of God: "How, therefore, is she good, who without discernment comes to both the good and to the bad?...It profits one nothing to worship her if she is truly fortune... let the bad worship her...this supposed deity".[22] In the 6th century, the Consolation of Philosophy, by statesman and philosopher Boethius, written while he faced execution, reflected the Christian theology of casus, that the apparently random and often ruinous turns of Fortune's Wheel are in fact both inevitable and providential, that even the most coincidental events are part of God's hidden plan which one should not resist or try to change. Fortuna, then, was a servant of God,[23] and events, individual decisions, the influence of the stars were all merely vehicles of Divine Will. In succeeding generations Boethius' Consolation was required reading for scholars and students. Fortune crept back into popular acceptance, with a new iconographic trait, "two-faced Fortune", Fortuna bifrons; such depictions continue into the 15th century.[24]
The ubiquitous image of the Wheel of Fortune found throughout the Middle Ages and beyond was a direct legacy of the second book of Boethius's Consolation. The Wheel appears in many renditions from tiny miniatures in manuscripts to huge stained glass windows in cathedrals, such as at Amiens. Lady Fortune is usually represented as larger than life to underscore her importance. The wheel characteristically has four shelves, or stages of life, with four human figures, usually labeled on the left regnabo (I shall reign), on the top regno (I reign) and is usually crowned, descending on the right regnavi (I have reigned) and the lowly figure on the bottom is marked sum sine regno (I have no kingdom). Medieval representations of Fortune emphasize her duality and instability, such as two faces side by side like Janus; one face smiling the other frowning; half the face white the other black; she may be blindfolded but without scales, blind to justice. She was associated with the cornucopia, ship's rudder, the ball and the wheel. The cornucopia is where plenty flows from, the Helmsman's rudder steers fate, the globe symbolizes chance (who gets good or bad luck), and the wheel symbolizes that luck, good or bad, never lasts.
Fortuna lightly balances the
orb
of sovereignty between thumb and finger in a Dutch painting of
ca
1530 (
Musée des Beaux-Arts de Strasbourg
)
Fortune would have many influences in cultural works throughout the Middle Ages. In Le Roman de la Rose, Fortune frustrates the hopes of a lover who has been helped by a personified character "Reason". In Dante's Inferno (vii.67-96), Virgil explains the nature of Fortune, both a devil and a ministering angel, subservient to God. Boccaccio's De Casibus Virorum Illustrium ("The Fortunes of Famous Men"), used by John Lydgate to compose his Fall of Princes, tells of many where the turn of Fortune's wheel brought those most high to disaster, and Boccaccio essay De remedii dell'una e dell'altra Fortuna, depends upon Boethius for the double nature of Fortuna. Fortune makes her appearance in Carmina Burana (see image). The Christianized Lady Fortune is not autonomous: illustrations for Boccaccio's Remedii show Fortuna enthroned in a triumphal car with reins that lead to heaven.[25]
Fortuna also appears in chapter 25 of Machiavelli's The Prince, in which he says Fortune only rules one half of men's fate, the other half being of their own will. Machiavelli reminds the reader that Fortune is a woman, that she favours a strong, ambitious hand, and that she favours the more aggressive and bold young man than a timid elder. Monteverdi's opera L'incoronazione di Poppea features Fortuna, contrasted with the goddess Virtue. Even Shakespeare was no stranger to Lady Fortune:
When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state...
Ignatius J Reilly, the protagonist in the famous John Kennedy Toole novel A Confederacy of Dunces, identifies Fortuna as the agent of change in his life. A verbose, preposterous medievalist, Ignatius is of the mindset that he does not belong in the world and that his numerous failings are the work of some higher power. He continually refers to Fortuna as having spun him downwards on her wheel of luck, as in “Oh, Fortuna, you degenerate wanton!”
In astrology the term Pars Fortuna represents a mathematical point in the zodiac derived by the longitudinal positions of the Sun, Moon and Ascendant (Rising sign) in the birth chart of an individual. It represents an especially beneficial point in the horoscopic chart. In Arabic astrology, this and similar points are called Arabian Parts.
Al-Biruni (973 – 1048), an 11th-century mathematician, astronomer, and scholar, who was the greatest proponent of this system of prediction, listed a total of 97 Arabic Parts, which were widely used for astrological consultations.
Aspects[edit]
Lady Fortune in a
Boccaccio
manuscript
Sculpture of Fortuna,
Vienna
La Fortune
by
Charles Samuel
(1894), Collection
King Baudouin Foundation
Fortuna Annonaria brought the luck of the harvest
Fortuna Belli the fortune of war
Fortuna Primigenia directed the fortune of a firstborn child at the moment of birth
Fortuna Virilis ("Luck in men"), a woman's luck in marriage[26]
Fortuna Redux brought one safely home
Fortuna Respiciens the fortune of the provider
Fortuna Muliebris the luck of a woman.
Fortuna Victrix brought victory in battle
Fortuna Augusta the fortune of the emperor[27]
Fortuna Balnearis the fortune of the baths.[27]
Fortuna Conservatrix the fortune of the Preserver[28]
Fortuna Equestris fortune of the Knights.[28]
Fortuna Huiusce Diei fortune of the present day.[28]
Fortuna Obsequens fortune of indulgence.[28]
Fortuna Privata fortune of the private individual.[28]
Fortuna Publica fortune of the people.[28]
Fortuna Romana fortune of Rome.[28]
Fortuna Virgo fortune of the virgin.[28]
Fortuna Faitrix the fortune of life
Pars Fortuna
Fortuna Barbata the fortune of adolescents becoming adults[29]
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“As you enter the church your eyes will be at once be attracted to the figure of the Madonna Nera and Child dominating the nave from their angel-born throne above the High Altar. The wooden statue, above 1 m high, with Nigra sum Sed formosa inscribed underneath, shows a great resembling between Mother and Child, both sumptuously crowned and robed in white and gold. Her face recalls that of a gypsy or a good witch, not dissimilar to her sisters of Dijon and Guadalupe.Her legend is as follows: She was brought from the east on a ship forced to seek safe heaven in the bay, which was once the splendid ancient harbour of Tyndaris.After the storm the ship would not move until the sailors disembarked the image in the place the Madonna had chosen. She was carried up the hill to the small church that had been built on the ruins of the Temple of Cybele, since when her cult has never ceased to flourish.”
Ean C. M. Begg, The Cult of the Black Virgin, p. 277-278
----
“When we review the attributes of the goddesses, from the early civilization of Sumer to the highly artistic civilizations of Greece and Rome, we discover that the characteristics they [Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene] shared were physical beauty, virginity, association with the moon and the tragic death, or deliberate sacrifice, of a sonlover.With this in mind, consider the image of Mary, mother of Jesus. She is worshiped as the Virgin Mary. Indeed, it is her virginity (the state of being chaste, not the original meaning of the word) which sets her apart from other women. Mary is also associated with the cosmos, often being called Queen of Heaven. To depict her heavenly beauty, she is frequently pictured enthroned on the moon. Her primary association is with her son, who is sacrificed; Mary's role as a wife is negligible. Despite these parallels with the image of the goddess, Mary is conventionally associated solely with the maternal aspect of the feminine—static and protective. The dynamic, transforming aspect, related to the passion, sexuality and fertility of the love goddesses, is conspicuously lacking.
However, there are other correlations between Mary and the ancient chthonic goddesses which, though not commonly known, are operative in collective consciousness. In a small number of cathedrals throughout Europe, both in popular and isolated places, a black madonna is venerated. She is not the more familiar, angelic madonna in the blue cloak, but one as black as the earth itself. She belongs to the lower world, not the heavenly realm.From prehistoric times, as early as thirty thousand years before the beginning of the Christian era, comes the Black Venus of Lespugue, carved from a mammoth tusk, now preserved in the Musée de l'Homme in Paris. As she predates a time when any knowledge of agriculture existed, she is more than earth; she is Life itself. Other black feminine images, symbolic of the chthonic life force, have been worshiped throughout the ages.
In Tindari, on the coast of Mediterranean in eastern Sicily, a black statue of the madonna bears the inscription, nigra sum sed formosa -”I am black, but comely”- from the Song of Solomon 1:5. Christian scholars interpret this passage as referring to a bride, the Virgin Mary as Ecclesia, uniting in marriage with the bridegroom, her son Christ. It appears to be founded in the sacred marriage rite of Ishtar and Tammuz, since there are many parallers between the ancient cuneiform tablets and this Old Testament text. Could not this “black and comely” madonna be a product of the far more ancient image of the goddess?
[...]
When women adapted to the religious tenets of the patriarchy, they also accepted man's image of his anima as an accurate reflection of feminine nature. They thereby lost their connection to the genuine feminine, including the chthonic aspects represented by the black madonna.Many black madonnas are currently valued as religious symbols, but far more numerous are images of the conventional "blue" madonnna. The latter, as anima, inspired men to build impressive cathedrals and create beautiful works of art, but she lacks a crucial dimension of feminine nature. The black madonna, associated with both the earth and fertility, is an image of the divine feminine reflecting the ancient connection between women's nature and the goddess of love. Through her, the Great Goddess still lives in Christianity.”
Nancy Qualls-Corbett, The sacred prostitute: eternal aspect of the feminine, p. 152-154
----
“According to the legendary arrival of the Black Madonna of Tindari, the ship that was carrying her image was forced to take anchor in the Bay of Tindari in a storm, and was not allowed to sail until her image was taken from the ship, where it was then carried to the former temple site of the Goddess Cybele.
[...]
The sanctuary of Tindari sits on a high bluff on the northern shore of Sicily. A woman from a far-away country had come to fulfill a vow to the Madonna of Tindari for saving her little girl's life. When the woman reached the sanctuary, after a long journey, she openly expressed her disillusionment upon seeing that the Madonna's face was black. The moment she expressed her irreverence, her little girl, who had wandered away from her mother, fell from a cliff. The woman called upon the Madonna to again save her child's life. But the miracle had already happened - the sea had withdrawn so the girl could fall on soft sand. The woman now believed in the divine powers of the Madonna she had mocked and the sea stayed at a distance permanently as a reminder of what had happened.
[...]
Sometimes the versions of a story of a punishing miracle varied, with important details missing. Only one of several sources mentioned the punishment by the Madonna of Tindari,for example. Carroll also cites a case in which a modern account of a miracle leaves out the harmful details included in older accounts.This leads me to wonder whether elements of other stories have been dropped over time. Considering the patterns in the body of above miracles, at one time there may have been a full cycle of the Madonna's anger, punishment, forgiveness and healing in more of them. Perhaps, like the alteration of the dark color of the images that other scholars and I have found, elimination of the details of the stories is a kind of "emotional whitening," a gradual removal of the Madonna's "full" range of power, including those we might consider to be negative.I must state that I never got a sense at any of the dozens of Black Madonna sanctuaries I visited that these most powerful Madonnas were feared. On the contrary they appeared to be greatly beloved. The fervor and devotion was palpable. I observed the utter closeness of the people to the Madonna. The Black Madonnas of Montevergine, Somma Vesuviana, and Napoli are all addressed as Mamma, a clearly familiar form of address. Songs and prayers use familiar (rather than formal) pronouns and indicate an endearing and close relationship. Chiseled in marble above the area where the painting of the Black Madonna of Montevergine once hung are the words which translate "You Are Black And Beautiful, My Friend."
The Black Madonna's devotees may feel reassurance from her ferocity, like the women in southern India who believe the fierce goddess Kali's power is there to protect them. Perhaps the severe punishment that was attributed to the Madonna's power was a way for the women to ensure the rules were respected, that the sacred was preserved, and to emphasize that the great honor due the Madonna must never be violated.”
Mary Beth Moser, Blood Relics: Menstrual Roots of Miraculous Black Madonnas in Italy, p. 6; 9-11
----
“It is a well known fact that sanctuaries dedicated to Mary were often built on sites that were originally used for the veneration of pagan goddesses. The same development could have happened in regard to statues, particularly when the statue of the Virgin is black in color. Shrines of earthgoddesses were scattered all over Europe, as are venerated statues of the "Black Madonna," which can be found in great numbers from Great Britain to Hungary and Poland. In none of them with which I am familiar can negroid features be detected; therefore, they are not black because of their race. In some cases the material from which they are made is black; in other cases, it is claimed that accumulated dirt and soot may account for their color. This explanation, usually given by Roman Catholic scholars, does not explain why the whole body of the statue turned black, even under the clothing, and not just the face and hands. And what about those to which none of these arguments apply? One answer lies at hand: they are black because they represent earth, the mother of all. That Christians could so easily think of Mary as black should not be surprising. Not only was the relationship between Mary and the virgin earth long established, from quite early the Song of Songs was interpreted in the church in a Marian way. This love song was explained as referring to the relationship between Christ and the church, his bride; since the church was identified with Mary, the song could be also be applied to the love of God and Mary; and the female lover in the Song of Songs is black: "I am black but beautiful, Ο daughters of Jeruselem."
Thus nothing stands in the way of seeing in the veneration of the Black Madonnas a continuation of the popular piety with which the great mystery of earth was honored. In some areas of Europe the roots of this piety, such as that of the Celts, may go back to pre-Roman times. It may have been Artemis or Isis who inspired the cult. In Tindari, Sicily, the Madonna Nera is in a church erected on the site of a former sanctuary of Cybele.”
Stephen Benko, The Virgin Goddess: Studies in the Pagan and Christian Roots of Mariology, p. 213-214
#women#history#women in history#historical women#history of women#tindari#culture#religion#province of messina#myedit#virgin mary
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Episode 23 Review: In the Not-So-Hidden Temple
{ YouTube: 1 | 2 }
{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }
{ Screencaps }
CONTENT WARNING FOR MENTION OF SUICIDE TOWARDS THE END OF THE REVIEW
Welcome back to my Garden of Evil, which I have let lay barren for far too long. A few busy weeks of mask-making threw me off my posting schedule last April and I have only just begun to get back into the habit of writing episode reviews. Also, I knew that I would need to do a lot of research for this one, so I kept putting it off while I worked on my essay about Strange Paradise on WKBF. But now I’m ready to return to reviewing this show regularly, and let me tell you that I learned some very interesting things while researching this episode.
But first, a word from Jean Paul Desmond.
Jean Paul: “Erica, my darling, I do know what is right and wrong, and to be with you is all that is right for me. I cannot control either, though, for is it wrong to want you alive again? Is it wrong for me to want to give up my life for yours, if need be? Because the Devil will not have my soul! And, if it means freeing you from the capsule, I will. We will destroy each other so that at least we may share our eternity together.”
Jean Paul is wearing a lovely green shirt that, unfortunately, we will never get to see again after this episode. He has also not yet given up on his habit of stalking, as we see when he spies on Matt Dawson. Matt prays for Erica, then goes to investigate the coffins of Jean Paul’s ancestors while Quito sneaks up behind him. Then he starts talking to the mute servant about how much he wants to leave Maljardin and tries persuading him to sail him back to the main island.
That is when Raxl finds him there and tells him something which I can't make out (see Part 1, 2:54 to 2:59). Debby Graham transcribes part of her line as "he is deaf," but Raxl says more than that. Bryan Gruszka of StrangeParadise.net says nothing on either his synopsis or the corresponding trivia page about Quito being deaf, so it’s possible that he didn’t understand her line either. Still, I'll be damned if I can make out anything with the bad audio. The automated captions don't even transcribe any of it, correctly or not, so I have no idea what the hell she’s saying.
"He may not be able to talk," replies Matt, "but he can hear." You would think that being together with Quito since at least 1689 would be more than enough time for her to figure out whether he is deaf or not, but I guess I'm wrong. Anyway, she decides that, because Matt is a minister, she can safely confide in him about the evil on Maljardin aka THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES.
Stop trying to distract her, Dan! Go rant about Jean Paul to a hidden camera again!
Meanwhile, Dan is being a patronizing ass to Alison in the lab as she searches for Dr. Menkin’s missing notes. I can’t tell if Dan was intended to be so unlikeable or if their scenes together just haven’t aged well. Either way, they still have no chemistry (unlike her and Jean Paul/Jacques) and I still have no idea what she sees in him.
But enough about them for now. Let’s return to the crypt, where the interesting stuff is happening. There’s a lot to unpack, so I will be going through their dialogue and analyzing the important bits.
Alison (from the previous scene): “You talk of-”
Matt: “-Evil, of danger, but not of how I am to fight them.”
Raxl: “God--the Christian God--He is good?”
Matt: “He is love, Raxl.”
Raxl: “So you are good.”
Matt: “I am His servant.”
Raxl: "It is not enough to do as the curandero does."
Matt: "Curandero?"
Raxl: "When evil walks, the soul is lost. The curandero--the sorcerer--calls for it to return to the body."
Here Raxl references a type of traditional healer popular throughout Latin America. According to Wikipedia, the rituals of curanderos and curanderas combine traditional medicine from indigenous cultures with religious practices from both Catholicism and traditional African religions. Sound familiar? That’s because modern curanderismo came about because of the same social factors as the religions collectively known as Vodou[1]: namely, colonialism and the transatlantic slave trade, which led to increased interaction between indigenous peoples, African slaves, and European colonists. When the colonists tried to impose Christianity on the people they enslaved (both indigenous and black), many of them responded by combining Christian figures and trappings with their own religious practices in a process known as syncretism. Although curanderismo is not Vodou, both are syncretic traditions with a similar history and a similar association with witchcraft. This is probably why the show makes the connection between them.
Matt: "And is a soul lost in this place, Raxl?"
Raxl: "Most easily. It returns [through the hands] or [through the temples]." [She touches those areas of Matt's body.] "These are its holes in the body. When it departs, it goes from them. When it returns...The magic of the curandero is a fervent belief of my people. You understand?"
Matt: "Which you no longer believe."
The Reverend appears to assume that, because Raxl is seeking his help, she must no longer believe in the curanderos’‘ magic. Most likely this is because he follows a religion that tends toward exclusivism, the idea that one true religion exists and all others are wrong. Although Matt has already revealed that he does not believe this--he said in Episode 10 that “a minister should have an interest in all spiritual phenomena” and “any path that leads to God should have a minister’s approval”--he might still unconsciously believe that a non-Christian who expresses an interest in God must want to convert.
Raxl: "I believe the Christian God is good."
Matt: "And that I, His servant, can help you with this, this matter of the soul?"
Raxl: "Someone must! Please! Help us! HELP US! SOMEONE MUST!"
Yes, he’s still watching them.
And Raxl notices the camera!
Raxl tells Matt that they mustn’t stay in the crypt in case someone overhears. Jean Paul watches as they grab torches and get ready to head to the Not-So-Hidden Temple, and very nearly discovers the temple’s entrance, only to turn away at the wrong moment to scowl at the camera:
Proof that I did not just make that up.
When we return, we see Raxl and Quito escort Matt to the temple. Between the torchlight, the eerie music, and the darkness of the tunnel, it’s a surprisingly effective scene that gives a sense of suspense and wonder. When they reach the temple, Raxl tells Matt about the temple’s history:
Matt: “I’ve read about many ancient temples, but this one is-”
Raxl: “Secret and sacred, the Temple of the Serpent.” [She and Quito pass their torches between their hands, as they do in many of their rituals.] “An ancient people years ago lived on Maljardin. You know of them?”
Matt: "Like the Aztecs and the Tarascans, the Totonacs."
Raxl: "Like them were our island people. For three thousand years, they were one with the Earth."
Matt: "Farming people?"
Raxl: "Not warriors, not dealers in the Devil's business of death. This was our temple, is our temple!"
So Raxl and Quito are natives to the island and of indigenous Central American descent, related to the Aztecs, Tarascans, and Totonacs. (In spite of this, both of their actors are white.) Unlike the Aztecs, however, they were a peaceful people. That is, except for one little thing...
Raxl: "The Christian god is not displeased?"
Matt: "God believes that each may have his own belief." [He touches the altar.] "If this is what I think it is..."
Raxl: "The basin of the blood sacrifice."
Meanwhile, Jean Paul heads to the crypt to continue stalking and is shocked to find neither Raxl. nor Quito, nor Matt, nor the very obvious hidden door leading to the Temple of the Serpent:
Well, if you had left your monitor on and watched it for just a minute longer, you would know all about the not-so-secret door to the temple. *Jacques voice and laugh* You snooze, you lose, Jean Paul!
Back in the Temple of the Serpent, Raxl and Matt discuss the use of the altar:
Matt: "God wouldn't be pleased with this!"
Raxl: "Only the priests used it, and only to please the gods of fertility and the maize."
Matt: "Sometimes humans were sacrificed."
Raxl: "As others have sacrificed. You know the Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent?"
Matt: "Yes."
Raxl: "He gathered bones of the dead from all the world. When he returned, he sprinkled his own blood on them."
Matt: "And thus created his man."
Raxl: "This is the belief."
Here we learn the identity of the Serpent whom Raxl worships: it is Quetzalcoatl, the Aztec creator god also known as the Feathered Serpent. In Pre-Columbian times, many peoples throughout Mesoamerica worshipped feathered serpent gods, including the Olmecs, the Yucatec Maya (Kukulkan), and the K’iche’ Maya (Q’uq’umatz). Although the legends and appearance of the Feathered Serpent vary from culture to culture, all Mesoamerican Feathered Serpents are generally considered variations of the same ancient deity, once again connecting to the aforementioned practice of syncretism.
Before re-watching this episode, I had forgotten that Raxl identified the serpent as Quetzalcoatl. Because the show, many ads promoting it, and the tie-in novels refer to her religion as voodoo, I assumed (after Googling “voodoo serpent” and reading many pages in the results) that the serpent she worshiped was the Vodou god or lwa Damballah, a deity similar to Quetzalcoatl. According to legend, Damballah created the world and all living things, much like the Feathered Serpent, who restored humanity to life after its death at the end of the world’s previous cycle.
Some modern pagans and Vodou practitioners syncretize Quetzalcoatl and Damballah. This post on La Bloga by Ernest Hogan and this essay by the Steemit user yestermorrow are good examples.[2] Another example of this association can be found in Leslie Marmon Silko’s novel Almanac of the Dead, where one character, a black Vietnam vet named Clinton, says the following about them:
The spirits of Africa and the Americas are joined together in history, and on both continents by the sacred gourd rattle. Erzulie joins the Mother Earth. Damballah, great serpent of the sky and keeper of all spiritual knowledge, joins the giant plumed serpent, Quetzalcoatl. When someone dies, the spirit goes to the Dead Country. Legba Gede, Lord of the Crossroads of Life and Death, directs the traffic of the human souls.[3]
Does Raxl also syncretize the West African and Mesoamerican serpent gods? They never say, but I think she does. She likely practices a combination of her native religion, curanderismo, and "the conjure faith” (as she and Vangie usually call voodoo).
Matt: "Did you bring me here to talk of ancient tribal history, Raxl?"
Raxl: "Tribal? It wasn't! It is the highest culture!"
Matt inadvertently reveals a somewhat condescending attitude toward the ancient Mesoamerican civilization on Maljardin by calling it “tribal.” The word’s connotations of primitiveness are not lost on Raxl.
Matt: "All right, but what of this danger, this evil that rambles around here?"
Raxl: "You scorn what I have said. I see it in your face and in your eyes: your scorn, derision. Your presence corrupts the Temple! It was wrong of me to bring you here, to trust you!"
Matt: "Wait! If you must trust someone, trust me. I scorn nothing about this temple. It's a place of worship. I respect it as I would my own. If I seemed impatient with past history, it's only that the present concerns me more."
Sure, Jan Matt. I totally believe you respect a temple with an altar for blood sacrifice. Not that many people would, but still, his claim not to disrespect it is not entirely convincing (to say the least). It’s about as convincing as his insistence that he’s officiated at many funerals in crypts back in Episode 16. Even so, Raxl agrees to trust him and tells him all about Erica’s death and Jacques’ possession of Jean Paul.
Meanwhile, Jacques continues to torment his descendant. He also continues to reference things which no mere mortal from the 17th century would have been aware of:
Ah, yes, just like the bus depot that Louis XIV built at Versailles and the time clock he made all his ministers punch.
But Jean Paul can’t keep himself away from his hidden stalker room for long and returns to it two minutes later to spy on Alison, who is looking for Dr. Menkin’s notes on Erica and who is also desperately trying to persuade Dan that she does not have feelings for her brother-in-law. And then he visits the lab to let them know he was spying on them:
He’s stopped hiding the fact that he’s spying on everyone.
Dan, sick of dealing with Jean Paul and his moods.
Getting salty!
Dan asks Jean Paul when he reported Erica’s death. He insists that Dr. Menkin wrote a statement about her death, which he showed to the Cryonics Society before they froze her corpse, but Dan does not accept that. He asks if he ever told the authorities of Erica’s death, but Jean Paul didn’t for obvious reasons. He refuses to allow anyone to open the capsule to give Erica an autopsy, because that would mean that she could never be revived (not sure what his logic is, since zombies exist in this show’s universe).
He also officially rehires Dan, which is when he learns that Jacques already did so a week ago. This sends Jean Paul over the edge and he sends them off so they don’t see him rummage through the medicine cabinet.
THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF THE SECTION ABOUT SUICIDE. IF THE TOPIC OF SUICIDE TRIGGERS YOU, SKIP AHEAD TO THE NEXT PHOTO OF JEAN PAUL.
He grabs a bottle of cyanide and sneaks behind them back into the Great Hall. He announces to Jacques that he plans to kill himself and Jacques along with him, as though suicide were enough to defeat THE DEVIL. He is delusional, of course. All that would do is prevent Jacques from taking over his living body (and, as I mentioned above, zombies exist in this show’s universe, so Jacques could--in theory--possess an undead Jean Paul). “Now, be a good boy,” Jacques purrs to him like the handsome biscuit-maker that he is, “and store that away for another day. Now join your guests, eat slowly, and digest what I have said very carefully.”
END OF SECTION ABOUT SUICIDE
I enjoyed this episode, particularly the scenes with Raxl, Matt, and Quito. The Reverend may be somewhat of a creep when it comes to his behavior towards Holly, but I like his other subplot with Raxl and how they join forces against Jacques despite their religious differences and the temple’s dark history. Also, although initially I kept procrastinating, researching for this entry was fun and I ended up having fun going down the rabbit snake hole. I’m not an expert on Vodou, curanderos, or ancient Mesoamerican religions now, but I’ve learned some interesting things.
Coming up next: An analysis of the top five things wrong with Tim’s subplot.
{<- Previous: Episode 22 || Next: Episode 24 -> }
Notes
[1] I use “Vodou” here to refer to the real-world religions commonly known as voodoo and “voodoo” in reference to their portrayal in popular culture.
[2] Along with Simbi (another serpent lwa), Damballah is also believed to possess the ability to control snakes; because of this, many of his devotees further syncretize him with Saint Patrick and Moses.
[3] Leslie Marmon Silko, Almanac of the Dead: A Novel (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992), p. 429, https://archive.org/details/almanacofdead00lesl. (RIP National Emergency Library)
#strange paradise#soap opera#review#maljardin arc#ian martin#week 5#episode 23#extra long corona edition#analysis#great serpent#historicalnote#jean paul's monitor room#the not so hidden voodoo temple#scene transitions#sp and religion#suicidal ideation#tape recorder journal#i'm not a religious studies scholar but i play one on tumblr
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Pool of Destiny
Summary; Fen and Julia take a trip to the Pool of Destiny.
Word Count; 3,536
Author’s Note; My submission for @thewelterschallenge, theme 2 destiny
“It will just be for a couple of days,” Fen says, as she follow Margo down the corridor towards the throne room. “Five at the most.”
One of the guards holds a letter delicately in the palm of his hand. He offers it to Margo who snatches it as she passes without a word or acknowledgement. Fen offers the guard a sympathetic smile but it's not one he returns, he remains stoically committed to his job.
“It's just, with Eliot and Quentin sailing around the outer islands and with you now back as High King I feel like this is something that I need to do and I've been reading the Fillory books, the ones that Quentin gave me and there this pool. They call it the Pool of Destiny and I thought I could go there and see if there was anything there for me.”
Margo suddenly stops and Fen almost collides into her.
“Have you seen this?” Margo asks, waving the letter in Fen's face.
“Erm, no.”
“Apparently they want to build a shine.”
“To who? Ember?”
“No. To Julia. It's those farmers, the ones that live near the forest she regrew. They want to build an altar and a temple. They want my permission to worship her.”
“Well, she is a goddess.”
“Ex-goddess.” Margo marches into the throne room and Fen quickly follows. “Speaking of.” There's a sharpness in Margo's tone as she glares at Julia, who is currently perched on the edge of Margo's throne.
Julia's foot is up on a stool. Her trousers are ripped and there's a little hint of blood. Julia is looking at a cut on her thigh. It's thin and small, and Fen assumes that it's shallow, nothing to be worried but.
“That's my throne.”
“Hi Margo,” Julia says. “Hey, Fen.”
“Hey.”
“Here.” Margo practically flicks the letter at Julia, who catches it. “You'll want to read this.”
Julia does, and Fen waits, standing on the sidelines.
“Wow, that's... Wow.” Julia smiles as she reads through the letter again. “I don't know what to say, this is...”
“Not funny. That's what it is.”
“Margo, please,” Fen finally says, as she walks towards her. “If I could just let me borrow the Muntjac for a few days.”
“The Muntjac? What?”
“I want to go to the Pool of Destiny.”
“Oh. Why didn't you just say so? Of course you can take the Muntjac.” Margo is about to turn away, only to stop and turn back. “In fact, why don't you take Julia with you.”
“What?” Julia says.
“Yeah, you can take a little detour. Go and see your followers, show them how human their new deity is.” Margo strides out of the room.
Julia looks over and offers Fen a small, sympathetic smile. “So, boat trip?”
-----
Julia stretches her right leg out in front of her. Her ankle hangs over the side of the mud pool, her heel just millimetres above it. She massages her thigh, her fingers digging into the muscle roughly, harshly, but still being careful to avoid the cut.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Julia asks.
Fen doesn't answer.
“We could always just, head back,” Julia says.
“I've come this far, to go back now-” Fen shakes her head. “I just can't.”
“Okay.”
They fall back into silence and Fen watches as Julia continues to massage her thigh, a fresh drop of blood appearing on her jeans. They've been travelling for almost three days and they've had this conversation many times and even though Fen knows Julia is just trying to help, she isn't sure that she can explain it again.
“Are you alright?” Fen asks.
Julia nods her head. “Yeah, I'm fine.” She stops massaging her thigh and her hands flop to the ground. “It's not all it's cracked up to be. Destiny. It's just a fancy word for not having control of your life and that is a special kind of hell, believe me, I know. Sometimes it feels like ever since I was kept out of Brakebills, other people have been controlling my life; Jane, Persephone, even Penny.” Julia sighs. “Don't underestimate the power of freedom, Fen.”
“I won't.”
Julia looks at her and smiles sadly. There's a sheen of sweat on her forehead and her hands are shaking just slightly. “Okay,” Julia says. She doesn't look convinced and Fen doesn't blame her, she didn't really sound convincing. “Shutting up now. I think I'm going to turn in. Are you coming?”
“No. I think I'm going to stay here for awhile.”
“Sure.” Julia stands up and she sways slightly.
Fen reaches for her hand to steady her. “Are you alright?” Fen quickly stands up and wraps her arms around Julia's waist.
“Yeah, I just... I felt a bit dizzy, for a moment.” Julia's arms rest against Fen's shoulders and Fen is acutely aware of the fact that she is the only thing holding Julia up.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I just need to lie down for a little bit.” Julia pulls back slightly, her hands sliding away from Fen's shoulders. She seems steadier now, she doesn't sway or shake. She wipes the sweat from her forehead and gives a quick nod of her head. “I'm fine. I'm okay.”
Fen isn't sure who Julia's trying to convince, Fen or herself.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Julia takes another step away and she seems fine. A little pale, but mostly fine and Fen bites her tongue as Julia walks towards the tent they've set up.
Julia stops and slowly turns back to Fen. “You're going in there, aren't you?” Julia says. “Because this is something that you have to do alone.”
“Yeah.”
“I get that.” Julia walks back over to her. She gently takes Fen's hands and then leans in and kisses her cheek. “Please, be careful, okay?”
“Okay.”
Julia heads into the tent and Fen can see her shadow as she slowly climbs into her sleeping bag. Fen watches, just to make sure that she's okay, up until the moment that Julia turns the light off and then she waits, five minutes, and then ten. In the end twenty minutes seems like a reasonable amount of time.
She slowly takes off her jacket, folds it neatly and places it on the edge of the mud pool. She takes off her shoes, as well, and then her socks. She sits on the edge and lowers her legs in gently, the mud immediately encases them, latches on, almost like a leech and she can feel it pulling her down. She sees the bracelet on her wrist – the one that Eliot gave to her a few days after their impromptu wedding - and takes it off. She places it delicately on top of her jacket and then slides down into the mud pool.
It sucks her in, quicker than she's expects it to and before she really has time to think she's up to her neck in mud. She manages to take a deep breath, grabs at her nose and closes her eyes before her face disappears beneath the surface.
It wraps around her, squeezing at her and she struggles to breath as she sinks down. She tries to move, to wriggle, but the mud has her stuck, like her body is trapped in a vice. She can't go back up, she can't open her eyes and she can't take a breath, all she can do is continue to sink further and further down and hope that this isn't another one of Fillory's funny little quirks or another invention of Christopher Plover and that she isn't about to die at the bottom of a mud pool.
She doesn't have to wait long to find out. Just as her chest begins to tighten and burn her feet become free. They dangle in the air as her legs also slide out of the mud, followed by the rest of her body. She drops, just a few feet but it takes her by surprise and she tumbles forward, lands hard on her hands and knees.
“Ow.”
She brushes the dirt from her hands and slowly climbs to her feet. She's in a narrow corridor, with rough, stone walls. She looks up and the mud pool is hovering in the air, like a temporary ceiling. A light flickers across the wall and Fen sees a torch with a flame. She grabs it. It's wedged into the metal holster tight and she has to yanks it, hard before it comes loose.
The end of the corridor is dark, almost pitch black. She holds the torch out and a little bit a light shines down.
“Okay then.” Fen takes a deep breath, like a shot of much needed oxygen and courage, and she begins to walk down the corridor.
It takes a sharp turn the right and Fen stops. She presses herself against the wall. She reaches for the knife that's tucked into her belt, her fingers wrapping tight around the handle. She slowly creeps forward, the stone wall feels rough against her cheek as she peers around the corner. It's pitch black. She moves the torch forward and sees something, a flicker of colour. But it's flat, two dimensional, nothing more than a painting on a wall.
Fen slowly steps out. She moves the torch back and forth and the light flickers down the corridor, there's no sign of anybody else. She takes a few more steps and the sounds echo around her. She holds the torch up to the wall and looks at the painting. She recognises Ember and Umber, their horns almost comically large as they stand atop of what Fen assumes is meant to be a newly birthed Fillory. The painting is crude but detailed.
Fen shakes her head.
She continues down the corridor. There are more paintings on the wall, some of them involve Ember and Umber, some have the Chatwins; Martin and Jane mostly, but the majority of them Fen doesn't recognise even though they're clearly important moments in Fillory's history.
And then she gets to Quentin.
At first she doesn't recognise him, it's the very obvious drawing of the throne room in Castle Whitespire that catches her attention. But after a moment she recognises the clothes, she recognises the way his hair flops down in front of his face as he drives the sword into Ember's chest.
“Okay, that's... Okay.” She stares at it for a few seconds and then she steps away.
There are two other paintings that she recognises; one is Margo being crowned High King and the other is Julia recreating the keys in Castle Blackspire. She stops at both of them, admires them and wonders if there will ever be a painting of her.
She continues down the corridor, turns another corner, this time with a little less caution and she sees a door, thick wood with a large metal handle that has rusted over. She walks over and reaches for it. She can feel this pulsating heat emanating from it and she hesitates, her hand hovering just inches away.
“Are you sure you want to go in there?”
Fen stops dead. She recognises the voice instantly, the confidence, the air of authority, but it's not possible. It's just not possible. Fen turns slowly and it's not possible, and yet she stands there in all her regality, all her elegance, all her power. The Fairy Queen. “Fen,” she says. She holds out her arms, presumably waiting for Fen to embrace her, just like she did the last time, but Fen stays perfectly still.
“You're dead,” Fen says.
“Yes.”
“You died.”
“Yes.”
“But you're here.”
“Yes.”
“But you died.”
“Yes.”
“Are you real?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“There are things in this world that we may not understand.”
“Does that mean you don't know?”
The corner of the Fairy Queen's lip curls upwards, the smallest of smiles, that is there and then it's gone. “Fen, my dearest Fen.”
Finally they embrace. The Fairy Queen's hands resting delicately on Fen's shoulders.
“Why are here?” Fen asks.
“I'm here to see you.”
“To stop me.”
“No.”
“To let you see. Come.”
Fen looks over her shoulder. The door handle seems brighter now, almost like it's shining and she can feel the pull of it.
“Fen,” the Fairy Queen says.
Fen turns back and sees the Fairy Queen holding her hand out for her. She takes a breath, and has a final look at the door before she takes the Fairy Queen's hand.
They walk back down the corridor, past the paintings and back to the mud pool. For a moment Fen thinks that the Fairy Queen is going to tell her to go back, but instead she continues on, stone walls and a dust covered floor appearing in front of her, like it's being conjured simply by her presence. Fen wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.
This corridor isn't as long as the other and they quickly come to the end. Fen stops and her breath catches in her throat, her grip on the Fairy Queen's hand tightens just a little. There's another painting, and she's in it.
It's her and Julia standing in front of the Fairy Queen and next to it, slightly smaller but no less important, the Fairy Queen breaking the deal and freeing the enslaved fairies.
“Tell me why you are here,” the Fairy Queen says.
“To find out what my destiny is.”
“No. Tell me why you are here.”
Fen looks over at the Fairy Queen and the Fairy Queen looks back with an intensity, and a knowingness in her eyes. Fen sighs, because she knows that there's no point in lying.
“I want -” Fen sighs again - “I want something to be about me, for a change. I want to be important.”
“You are.”
“No.”
“There is currently an ex-goddess lying in a tent unable to sleep because she is worrying about you and there is currently a High King of Fillory sitting on her throne, unable to listen to her advisors because she is wondering where you are. You are important to them.”
“That's not... You can't just define me by the people I know.”
“Alright. How about the people you saved?” The Fairy Queen reaches out and touches the painting of herself breaking the deal. “How many of my people are safe and alive because of you? Was that destiny?”
“Is that why you're here, to tell me that I already fulfilled my destiny? That my role in all of this was to lose my baby and then save the fairies?”
“No. I'm asking, was that destiny or was it a choice?”
Fen hesitates. She isn't certain of the answer.
“Do you believe that Mr Coldwater was fulfilling his destiny when he freed Fillory from Ember's tyranny? Or was he defying it? Do you think Miss Wicker was destined to restore magic to the world? Or do you think she sacrificed her destiny, her divinity so that the rest of us could prosper?”
“You want me to say the second one.”
“I don't want you to say anything, I just want you to see. It wasn't my destiny to die for my people, I chose to and choice, it will always be more important, more defining than destiny.”
“I came all this way, if I don't open the door now...”
“Of course. You have a choice to make.”
“It doesn't seem like much of a choice,” Fen says, as she begins to walk down the corridor. “If my choices matter then opening the door won't.”
“True, but your friend will be dead.”
Fen stops. “What?”
“Miss Wicker. She has a cut on her thigh.”
“Yeah, it's just a cut,” Fen says, but her voice wavers.
“It's a prick from a Psyhoon. As you know, they're poisonous.”
Fen's blood runs cold. “It's already been at least twenty four hours.” Her voice is quickly getting louder and higher-pitched.
“Yes. She's strong but it's only a matter of time.”
“There's no way that I can get her back to Castle Whitespire in time, it's too far, even with the Muntjac. She's going to die.”
“No, you still have time.” The Fairy Queen reaches under her cloak and takes out a small vial of bright, blue liquid. The antidote. “No destiny, just choice. You can go through the door or you can go back to the surface and you can save your friend.”
Fen doesn't hesitate and later, when she finally has a chance to breath she won't regret the choice.
She grabs the blue vial from the Fairy Queen's hand and runs, no sprints down the corridor. She reaches the mud pool and jumps. Her fingers brush against the mud but all it does is ripple under her touch. She can't grasp onto it, can't pull herself up.
“Here. Allow me help you,” the Fairy Queen says.
And with a blink of her eye Fen is floating. Her arms flail for a moment and then she settles. It feels like she's being lifted up by gentle hands. Fen manages to turn in the air, and she looks directly at the Fairy Queen.
“Come with me.” Fen holds out her hand as the top of her head touches the mud pool.
“I can't. I'm already dead. Goodbye Fen.”
Fen takes a deep breath as she is sucked back into the mud pool. It's faster going up than it was going down, probably because of the Fairy Queen's magic and she comes out the other side in a matter of seconds. Her legs come out of the mud last and as she reaches for the bank, she realises that she's still floating.
“Wait. No, wait. Stop.” Fen reaches out, her arms outstretched but the bank is too far away. She kicks with her legs, almost like she's trying to swim and she moves, just a little but she moves. She kicks again and again, harder, with more ferocity. She manages to grab onto a branch of a nearby tree. She holds tight and it feels so thin, so brittle that she's worried it'll crumble under her grip, but she does manage to pull herself closer. She twists her body, and grabs a slightly stronger branch to stop herself from floating. She slams her feet against the truck and propels herself downwards.
She hits the ground, hard. Whatever magic was making her float is gone in an instant. There's a pain in her hip, in her thigh and all wants is a moment to lie in the dirt but she doesn't have time. She takes a deep and a little painful breath, and then climbs to her feet. She rushes towards the tent. Fen easily pushes aside the fabric, Julia hasn't even bothered to do the zip up.
She looks down at Julia, the vial gripped tightly in her hand. She looks small, fragile. There's a heavy sheen of sweat on her face, stains on her chest and under her armpits. She's trembling, her whole body shaking. Her eyes are closed. Her breaths shallow, almost like wheezing.
“Julia,” Fen says. “Julia.” She touches Julia's shoulder and gives it a gently shake.
Julia's eyes remain closed, but still she whimpers softly. Fen looks down at the wound on Julia's thigh. It's small, almost a pin prick but the skin around it is black. It's spreading out across the rest of her thigh, like a spider's web.
“It's okay. I have...” Fen's hand shakes as she lifts up the vial and removes the top. Some of it spills out and down the side. She wipes her finger across the glass, collecting up the stray drop and then rubs it into Julia's wound. She takes the vial and pours the rest onto the cut, being careful, making sure that she gets the majority of it directly onto the wound and hopes that it will be enough.
It takes a few hours. Fen can see the first few rays of sunlight shine through the thin lining of the tent as Julia finally begins to stir. She cradles Julia's head in her lap. Her temperature has fallen and the blackness on her skin is fading. Julia coughs and splutters, and her eyes slowly open.
“Hey,” Fen says.
“H...” Julia croaks.
“Here.” Fen reaches for the bag in the corner of the tent and pulls out a water bottle. She manages to take off the top and continues to cradle Julia's head as she brings the bottle to her lips.
Julia takes a sip, then another and another, until she's gulping the water down.
“Better?” Fen asks.
“Yeah, a little, yeah.” Julia looks around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What...? What happened?”
“The cut on your leg, it was caused by a Psyhoon. It's poisonous. I gave you the antidote.”
Julia tries to lift herself up, but she's clearly still weak and she lowers herself back down into Fen's lap. “Did you find it? Your... Your destiny?”
“Not really.” Fen gently brushes the hair and the remaining sweat away from Julia's forehead. She's breathing better now, slower, more rhythmically.
“I'm sorry.”
“Thanks. But maybe that's okay, maybe it's... Maybe it's better this way.”
#the welters library#welters challenge 2019 week 2#the 2019 welters challenge#The Magicians#Fen#Julia Wicker#The Magicians Spoilers#Fic
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When the World is Distant (Part Three, Final)
They introduce it to Kate, as much as America would like to surprise her, Clint brings up the point that this is Kate's decision and America agrees. This would change how Kate could interact with the world and so even though they are both sure that she will say yes they still feel the need to leave the decision to her.
Kate is interested and seems very eager but she does not get as emotional America did which takes some of the wind out of her sails. It doesn't completely put a stop to her excitement though.
Then Clint drops this bomb.
“This could get you back in hero work.”
Stars shine in Kate's eyes but America is left struck.
“Hero work?”
Kate looks up and there's a hint of guilt in her face. She knows America gave up her duties to care for her, now only on reserve in case of end of the world emergencies. (Because while Kate's prowess laid in her bow and leaderships skills, America could do things beyond human.)
“I want to help.”
The request breaks America's heart. She wants to go back too.
But things are different now and she's dedicated herself to Kate.
“I -” she can't just say no, she's Kate's lover who volunteered as caretaker, she doesn't have authority without hurting their relationship, “I thought...”
Kate and Clint both look at her. America swallows her doubts. It still feels necessary to voice her opinion.
“I thought we were moving on from that,” she whispers.
Kate looks at her desperately, “ America I worked so hard to be a hero and to have it taken from me was one of the worst things... I just...”
She closes her eyes, “I'm not ready to give it up.”
America's dreams of wedding dresses float away like white petals in the wind. It's not completely out of reach but she can see it in Kate's eyes that although she's in the situation she is she's not quite ready to return to civilian life. America tries to assuage her worries. If Kate was just working behind the scenes then she would be safer.
Clint looks at her, “You could also return to hero work. We would be able to help support you two.”
“I...” America wants to say no, but she isn't sure she can. That's not to say that she doesn't want to go back to hero work, she was just ready to settle down.
She looks at Kate and sees flowers of her own blooming.
“Okay.”
Kate’s work is not as exciting as it once was. Instead of archery she works through computers and intense investigation, assisted partly by Clint and occasionally by America. It feels important though, and she's glad to be able to participate.
Speaking of important things, her doctor’s suggestions of therapy and group meetings evolve to something even more important than hero work.
“I'm so proud of you,” America says to her gently, stroking her black hair softly.
Kate swallows nervously.
America walks with her into the room but Kate doesn't allow her to push her into the room. Three children, a teen girl, and a young boy and girl. They look up at her with big eyes. They, like her, are strapped into wheelchairs. The teen can move her shoulders in jerky increments. The younger girl can twitch her body but can't stand. The only boy’s head is strapped in and his tired looking mother sits with him and runs her fingers through his hair.
Kate's chest constricts. She was asked to speak to them because this happened to them like her. One day able bodied and then one day, not, from some accident or a nervous system affecting disease.
This was terrible. She felt sick.
Licking her lips she says hello.
It's Billy who comes to visit first. He's smiling but Kate feels a bit sick at it. Maybe it's the bags under his eyes or the way his gaze sad and steady. After everything they’ve gone through together it’s strange to see how far away they are.
“How’s, Teddy?” Kate asks.
“He’s good,” He sits on the couch.
Licking his lips he closes his eyes, “It’s weird how different everything is, from when we first became heros.”
Different but not surprising. Being a hero had become everything she wanted. Billy was a hero of circumstance.
He smiles and it’s more genuine than the one he came in with.
“I’m glad you still get to continue being a hero in some way.”
He looks down and Kate knows there’s something unsaid brewing in his mind. She wants to press and it hasn’t escaped from the fact that Billy could heal her. Closing her eyes she takes a breath. She can’t. Opening her eyes to look at him again she knows he would have if he could.
Billy leans his head back on the cushion.
“How have you and America been?” He asks.
“Fine. I’m surprised sometimes.”
“Surprised?”
Kate takes a deep breath, “Sometimes I expect her to leave. This is so much for her. She takes care of me constantly.”
Billy leans forward a bit, “She stays because she loves you.”
“I know. It’s just... Not fair for her. I know she didn’t want me to continue hero work and I feel bad for being selfish... It’s just the thing I want most.”
The admittance is a relief and a curse. The guilt weighs on her acutely.
“I went through this with Teddy. I couldn’t stop him being a hero. I’m sure she’s just worried about you Kate.”
“I know. I know. But now, I’m just so glad I have a chance, even if it’s not the same to keep doing what I love.”
“If it makes you happy I don’t think America will stop you.”
Kate looks away, “I know.”
America lifts Kate up from the chair to lay her down. Even with the lack of feeling Kate enjoyed being in her arms.
“America.”
“Hm?” America lays her down, smooths her hair, and arranges her limbs.
“Do you really want me to not be a hero?”
Kate looks her in the eyes as best as she can. America looks to the side guiltily.
“I-I, want you to be safe.”
America grabs her hand, “It kills me that this happened to you. That this happened to you and I was right there.”
She closes her eyes, “But I know it’s what you want and I know it’ll make you happy. I just don’t want to lose you. I love you.”
Kate chokes up, “I love you too, America.”
America nods, brings Kate’s hand to her face and leans her cheek against it.
“Kate?”
“Ya?”
“Will you marry me?”
“What?!” Kate’s eyes open and she shakes her head a bit.
“America, you want to stay with me forever? Even like this?”
“Kate, that doesn’t matter to me. There’s no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Kate starts crying and America rushes to wipe them away.
“Hey, hey don’t cry.”
“I-I’m sorry, it’s ju-just, I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” America leans over to press a kiss to her forehead.
“Yes!”
“Hm?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you!”
America leans back sharply, face red and smiling so large it’s brighter than the sun to Kate. She scoops Kate up, ruining her careful arrangement of her to dance around with her cradled in her arms.
Kate screams, in surprise and joy.
America slows to look at Kate, adoringly in her arms.
“I’m so glad I get to marry the strongest woman I know,” she says.
Kate blushes and looks away, “I-I don’t know how you can say that so easily!”
America laughs and falls back on the bed, being careful of Kate.
“It’s because I love you.”
Looking at America and feeling so happy, so happy in a way Kate never even imagined feeling. Even if she never walks or moves her arms again, even if hero work doesn't work out, she’ll always have America.
Closing her eyes she imagines the wedding.
“Hm, I guess we’ll have to look at dresses,” Her voice easily reveals her joy.
“I think I might want to wear a tux,” America declares.
“Really? Why?”
America looks at her like she was the one to light the sun, “Because I’m marrying the most beautiful girl in the whole world and I want everyone to know.”
“Well I think you’ll have to take second in that because I’m the one marrying the most beautiful girl.”
America ruffles her hair, “Nope! I’m marrying the most beautiful girl on any timeline or universe! And I want her to look beautiful in a white dress and flowers in her lap and I’ll be there to worship you and a put a ring on your finger!”
She emphasises her point by grabbing Kates hand and lifting it up.
They laugh together, in a home they’re already making their own.
Kate sits in her chair, her white dress tight down to her knees where it flairs out. Clint stands ready to walk her down the aisle. Her hair is pulled up in a bun. In her lap is pile of white roses, cascading partly down her lap. America is at the altar, in a tux with a corsage of roses pinned to her chest.
“Are you ready?”
Kate stares ahead at the love of her life.
“Yes”
comission for @wombatking
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As many of you know we had extensive travel plans for most of March and again in April and May. On March 4th we left Panama for Israel. Our journey to Israel was very uneventful with the threat of the pandemic still minimal. Our first sign of any concern was as we were leaving the Tucuman International Airport in Panama City. The government of Panama was in the airport checking the temperatures of arriving passengers. We felt that this was a strong indication that the government here was doing due diligence to keep its citizens safe against the threat of the virus. Our flight took us to Madrid where we connected to Tel Aviv. We saw no other attempt at other airports to do any due diligence in attempt to protect travelers and population.
Once in Tel Aviv we spent a day awaiting the arrival of the others in our tour group. On our free day in Tel Aviv we explored the Museum of the Jewish People and the Ben Gurion home. Ben Gurion is the modern founder of the State of Israel. His home was donated to the State upon his death and it is preserved as it had been during his life. His libraries, awards, memorabilia, and pictures from his life were amazing and it helped us to understand the current Israel. Israel is, in every way imaginable, a first world country with excellent infrastructure, military, medicine, and technology. They are very dependent on tourism. Our day ended with a trip to the Carmel Market where the vendors were very busy and the streets were full of tourists and locals buying fruits, spices, vegetables and just about anything else you can imagine. The following morning the remainder of our tour group arrived from the United States and we set out to explore the awesome country of Israel.
The Vibrant Colorful Market
The Vibrant Colorful Market
The Vibrant Colorful Market
Our tour was an awesome group of individuals put together by Mesu Andrews who is an author of Biblical fiction. Among the group were four authors (including myself), three ministers, a professional photographer, and twenty other people who were the perfect mix of inquiring minds. We felt totally blessed to find ourselves among such an incredible group of people. Our guide was Israeli and she had a wealth of information about every place we visited. As the tour progressed she tweaked the itinerary so that we could see the most of her beautiful country should the tour need to be cut short by travel restrictions imposed by the Corona Virus.
Jen and I with our awesome guide Hedva
Our group gathered at the Temple Mount
On our first day we went north from Tel Aviv to Caesarea, where King Herod built a magnificent Roman seaport. This is where Peter baptized the Roman centurion Cornelius, the first gentile convert to Christianity. (Acts 10: 1-8) it was from this port that Paul set sail to preach in communities all over the Mediterranean, and where he was later imprisoned for two years and made his powerful speech before Felix, Festus and King Agrippa (Acts 24-26). From Caesarea we continued along the coast north to Mt. Carmel for a breathtaking view of the Jezreel Valley from the spot where Elijah (1 Kings 18: 16-45) challenged the prophets of Baal. We then drove through the lush valley to Megiddo, the strategic city in biblical history and biblical Armageddon (Rev 16:16). Our last stop of the day was at Nazareth Village. This was a recreation of the original village in the center of Nazareth. The original village would have had a population of about 200 people. It is in the center of modern day Nazareth which has a population of about 65,000.
Colleseum at Caesarea
Waterfront at Caesarea
Caesarea
Nazareth Village
Farmer at Nazareth Village
The weaver woman at Nazareth Village
From Nazareth we continued to the Sea of Galilee where we stayed in a magnificent resort on the bank of the Sea. We enjoyed the sunrise and had a nice breakfast with our group. Following breakfast we travelled to the Mount of the Beatitudes (Matthew 5-7) where we worshiped together. This amazing group never once gave up on faith, which is what I attribute to the fact that we all remained healthy for the entire time in Israel. After our time at the Mount of the Beatitudes we travelled to the dock where we boarded “The Ancient Galilee Boat”. We enjoyed a wonderful ride out across the Sea of Galilee with a captain who was inspiring beyond belief. He led us in singing some contemporary Christian songs. The time here was much too short. Once back at the dock we were able to visit a place where a boat was recently excavated from the shore of the Sea of Galilee. This boat is Carbon dated to the 1st century. It could have been used by Christ. We then traveled to Tabgha the site of the stone where Christ performed the miracle multiplication of the loaves and fishes (Matthew 14: 13-21). There is a chapel here built on the foundation of the original church. The Chapel is built over the rock where The risen Jesus fed his disciples after a miraculous catch and gave Peter his commission to “feed my sheep” (John 21: 1-25). After our amazing morning we spent the afternoon at Capharnaum. We visited the Synagogue where Jesus based his 18-month Galilean ministry. We stood within the foundations of the synagogue where he preached and healed. We saw the house of Peter’s family where Jesus stayed. Our day concluded with a traditional Israeli dinner and sunset over the Galilean Sea.
Day three started with a visit to the village of Mary Magdalene, Magdala. It is a beautiful geologic excavation site. We saw where archaeologists have uncovered the remains of a 1st century synagogue and a Byzantine Monastery. After leaving Magdala we traveled on to Bethsaida which is described in (Mark 8:22-26) as the town where Jesus met a blind man seeking healing. Jesus led the man outside town before healing him and asked him not to return to the town, nor inform the people of the town, after his sight was restored. The next stop was Dan where we explored a couple of unbelievable excavation sites. The first archeological site we saw dates back almost 3000 years to the time of Abraham. It was discovered in the 1980’s (Genesis 14:14). After that we visited the actual excavated gate that Abraham entered as he first journeyed through the Promised Land. We climbed up to the altar where it is believed King Jeroboam placed one of the golden calves to make idol sacrifices (Kings 1:25-28). Our last adventure of the day was Banias Spring, one of the sources of the Jordan River. Caesarea Philippi is a center of Roman might and pagan worship in Jesus’ time where He challenged his disciples then and now, “Who do men and do you say that I am?” The archeological site of Philip’s Castle was the home of Salome and Herodias. Our day took us to the far northern border of Israel near Mt. Hermon and the borders Syria and Lebanon. We had dinner on the journey back to our resort.
One of the sources of The Jordan River
Chapel at Magdala
Chapel at Magdala
Excavated Gate from the time of Abraham
Excavation site at Magdala
Chapel in Magdala
Chapel in Magdala
After a restful night sleep we enjoyed breakfast and loaded up the bus for our journey south to the Dead Sea. The days are long and every minute is filled with adventure. The ride south gave us a little time to relax and anticipate what the day would bring. Our first stop was along the Jordan river at a site where people go to be baptized. The shop at the site was closed. This was the first place we encountered closed due to the Virus. The shop sells the baptismal gowns worn by those being baptized. Several from our group were baptized by two of the ministers who we travelled with. Jen was in the group baptized and she was truly inspired by the experience. Those who were baptized wore their swim suit in place of the traditional gown. After leaving the bank of the Jordan we headed south toward Qumran. This is where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found about 80 years ago. The terrain on the drive south was more like I expected. It went from lush green to desert. After leaving Qumran we traveled on south to the Ein Gedi oasis. which lies in the middle of the desert. This is the place where David hid in caves and spared the life of King Saul (1 Sam. 23:29 & 1 Sam. 24: 1-22). Following our hike through the oasis we again continued south to the Dead Sea where we checked in for the night at the Dead Sea Spa and Resort.
Jen and I in the Ein Gedi Oasis
Ein Gedi
Ein Gedi
Ein Gedi
Day five and we started out by exploring Masada which was one of our most amazing experiences so far. King Herod had it built using excess to all imagination. When you look at my pictures notice the black lines. From the black lines and down is what was excavated in tact. Above the black lines has been reconstructed. After an exhausting tour of Masada we traveled back to our resort where we all took the afternoon to enjoy the Dead Sea. Jen got herself all covered in black Dead Sea mud. We all swam and enjoyed the time. The water has so much salt that you can barely keep your feet grounded.
Masada
Dead Sea Scrolls (recreation)
Ready to swim in The Dead Sea
Masada
Sunrise at the Dead Sea
Masada
Masada
Terrace at Masada
Inside Masada looking out to the Dead Sea
Masada
Cave where some of the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered
Masasda
Day six we headed to Jerusalem. The tour guide was concerned with the future of our tour because the government had closed the borders and the airport to incoming tourists and asked that all travelers prepare to leave as soon as possible. This was almost laughable as our flights had already started being canceled. The tour company was exploring the possibility of still going to Jordan. Our guide’s concern caused us to take an alternate route from The Dead Sea to Jerusalem to avoid the possibility of road blocks. This gave us a look at Israel that few tourist experience. The moment we arrived in Jerusalem our driver took us straight to the Mount of Olives. Soon after that we made the Palm Sunday walk from the Mount of Olives to the Garden of Gethsemane and Church of all Nations (Church of Agony). After that we went by bus to Old Jerusalem. From the Jaffa Gate where our hotel was located we walked to Temple Mount. The beautiful Golden Dome is atop a mosque. It is controlled by the Muslims and we were required to cover arms, legs and shoulders for women and legs for men. We were able to visit the Eastern Gate which is also known as the Golden Gate. This gate has been sealed for many years. Christians believe that it is to be the entrance of Christ upon his return (Ezekiel 44: 1-2). We then were allowed a few minutes at the Western Wall. This is considered the holiest site in the Jewish world. For the first time in my life I put on a yarmulke and spent a few moments at the wall in silent prayer and reflection. We then settled comfortably into our room at the Gloria Hotel inside the wall of Old Town Jerusalem. This was to be our home for 4 nights. Due to travel concerns related to Corona Virus our tour company canceled the Jordan portion of our trip. That moved up the departure date of several people traveling with us. Jen and I were supposed to continue on to Athens, Greece after Jordan then on to a Greek isle cruise. Given the fact that the worst possible place to be during a virus crisis is a cruise, Jen and I cancelled everything after Jerusalem. Everything from that point was dependent on getting flights changed. Nobody on the tour was letting that affect our visit to Jerusalem.
The Golden Dome
The Western Wall
The Western Wall
Walls of Old Jerusalem
Church of the Nations on The Mount of Olives
A View of New Jerusalem
Day seven was spent exploring Jerusalem. Our first adventure of the day was a walk under the Temple Mount through the Western Wall Tunnels giving us a close-up glimpse into the past. The next place we visited was Yad Vashem. It was difficult to understand the extreme brutality that was inflicted on the Jewish People during the Holocaust. There is no room in this world for antisemitism. This visit was a sad and somber moment in our time in Jerusalem. Over 1.5 million of the 6 million Jews exterminated during the Holocaust were children. The most moving exhibit and the most visited place in Israel is the Children’s Memorial at Yad Vashem. Out of respect no photography was allowed inside the museum. Later in the afternoon we visited the High Priest Caiaphas’s House where Jesus was taken before crucifixion. For dinner we enjoyed an invitation from a Jewish family for an authentic Shabbat celebration in their home.
The Eternal Flame at The Holocaust Museum
Entry to The Childrens Memorial
Yad Vashem
Our first stop on morning eight we found a sign on the Cathedral of St. James indicating it was closed due to the Corona Virus. The people in Israel are really fearful of the virus. The government was continuing to ask that all visitors leave the country. We had flights scheduled but the airlines kept changing things. All the people in our tour group were in the same boat. We were committed to continue seeing the sights until the airlines can get us home. After we left the monastery at the Church of St. James we enjoyed a nice walk that took us through the Zion Gate and led to David’s Tomb and on to the Upper Room. The location of the Upper Room is believed to be constructed on the site where Jesus held the Last Supper. A little further we found the church that was built on the site where it is believed Jesus went to visit His grandmother. We wandered through the Via Dolorosa and the streets of Shuk on our way to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. From there our group visited the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and The Golgotha And The Empty Garden Tomb. Our eighth night dinner was at the Jerusalem YMCA. Built in the early 1900’s the place was nothing short of amazing. The tourists were starting to leave at an alarming rate which improved our enjoyment of this Holy City. The bad news of the day was that one leg of our trip home has been canceled again. The hotels and stores in Israel were preparing to close their doors the following week with no new tourists arriving. We were all praying for the people there and others worldwide who would lose their jobs and income from the Corona Virus. The good news was that we were assured that we would be accommodated should we find ourselves trapped there.
On the morning of day nine we met to discuss the future of our tour. The State of Israel Ministry of Tourism closed all tourist sites in Israel, limited people gathering to less than 10, closed most of the restaurants, and asked that we stay in our hotel rooms. Our hotel told us that they would be closing the following morning. Our tour operator made arrangements for accommodations for us in Tel Aviv until we could get flights out. We were working on getting flights home. The God we serve is able to deliver (Daniel 3:37). We were advised to take the last day in Jerusalem to explore in small groups and perhaps do some shopping. Jen and I walked the ramparts on top of the wall of the Old City in both directions from the Jaffa Gate that morning. We got some amazing pictures and had an awesome experience. The streets and market are almost void of tourists. We did do a little shopping and the vendors appreciated the opportunity to make a little money before closing down.
We must remember this
Strategy Meeting
The Empty Tomb
On our last day in Jerusalem five people from our group decided to take an opportunity to climb to the hotel roof for some sunrise pictures. The sunrise was amazing and we were all a little choked up about having to leave this incredible place. After breakfast we started back by bus to Tel Aviv. The tour guide was with us but we were asked to put as much distance between us on the bus as possible. They also asked that we discontinue wearing our name tags in a effort to look less like a tour group. The tour operator made arrangements for all of us to stay in a hotel in Tel Aviv until we could leave Israel. The Corona Virus had caused all of the rest of our adventures to be cancelled. We had to say good bye to our wonderful tour guide Hedva and our driver Akmed when we were delivered to our hotel just a block from the beach of the Mediterranean Sea. Some emotional moments were shared when we parted ways. Thank you, Hedva for sharing your unbelievable knowledge and wisdom with us over those two weeks. Our group all remained very healthy and we spent three nights at the hotel where they tried to get us to stay in our rooms and served us breakfast and dinner at the hotel to keep us close. Most of us did go out exploring a little each day in small groups. Our tour operator was very responsive to our needs. We all felt blessed to have had this awesome adventure. No one can deny that the memories and friendships are lifelong. By Thursday all 27 of us had confirmed reservations out of Israel.
Sunrise in Jerusalem
Goodbye Hedva
Exploring the Rampart
During one of our bonus days in Tel Aviv Jen and I walked down to the port of Jaffa. This is where Simon the Tanner lived and story of Jonah and the whale. There are some other sites from Jesus time but we were at a disadvantage without a guide. We got some great pictures along the beach promenade during our walk but found that really nothing was open. We made it back to the hotel before the rain started. On another day we walked to the Carmel Market. When we arrived in Israel 2 weeks earlier we could hardly navigate through the place. It was a beautiful, colorful and vibrant market. When we returned we were the only tourists. It is becoming more and more apparent that the locals for the most part want us to leave. We would be gone already if we could have gotten flights. Our flights were still scheduled to depart the following day. Every person was praying that there would be no further delays or complications. The hotel was awesome with us. They were frustrated that we wanted to congregate because the Ministry of Tourism was making surprise visits and giving fines to businesses that did not close and allowed customers to be closer than two meters apart. They served us breakfast and dinner every day and made us sit two to a table.
Jaffa
Promenade on the Mediterranean Sea at Tel Aviv
Beautiful Building on the Promenade
On Thursday our shuttle picked us up and delivered us to the airport. Those of us traveling back to Panama left before the others. The others were on two different flights to the United States and they traveled home without any problems. We however flew to London where we were to overnight and continue to Miami the following day with a connection into Panama City. We had an early flight from London to Miami. The 10 hour flight to Miami went fine except while we were on the plane our flight to Panama was cancelled. We learned of the cancellation when we checked the departure board at Miami. We went to the Copa ticket counter to learn that there were 300 people waiting for 160 seats on the only flight left for the day. We found a hotel and made a reservation for the next day. They gave us little hope that the flight the next day was going to go. When we settled into our hotel we ordered dinner for delivery and made a back-up plan for travel the next day. It was our back-up plan that ended up getting us home with only a day to spare before the International Airport at Panama closed to all international travelers.
As residents of Panama we were allowed to travel home, but all others were refused entry to the country. When we exited the plane we were screened and our temperature was taken. Those travelling on connecting flights were sent on their way and once we were screened we were advised that we would be required to stay in our home for 14 days quarantine. The only reason we would be allowed out was to go for groceries, and only one of us would be allowed to do that. The airport was nearly empty and customs and immigration took a very short time. Our driver picked us up and we took off for Coronado. The driver advised us that we would need to produce utility bills or something to show we lived in Coronado to pass through the check points. We all get our bills by email here so that was not a problem. The trip normally takes about 90 minutes, but even with nobody on the road it took us almost 4 hours to get home. There were 2 check points where they took all of our temperatures and verified that we had reason to travel into the interior of Panama (home). After a quick stop for some fruit along the road and a McDonalds drive-thru we got safely home before dark. We have learned that breaking quarantine could result in a fine between $50,000 and $100,000 so we will be home for the next several days. I made our grocery store run and some friends and neighbors have dropped by with some goodies. Other than that the only thing to do now is order delivery if we decide not to cook.
Domino’s Tel Aviv isn’t the same
Life here in quarantine is not a whole lot different than what others are facing. Earlier this week, Panama’s president ordered a 22 hour per day curfew. Everyone is allowed to go out during a 2 hour widow of time only for essential needs, like groceries and pharmacy. The time a person is allowed out is based on the number on their Cedula, with foreign residents allowed out based on their passport number. We feel fortunate to be here where the incidence of the virus is much lower than the rest of the world. If the world wants to beat this virus, everyone should just stay home and order takeout!
I have wrote one of the longest posts to date and have had a very difficult time with the pictures. I have to think that the internet is partly to blame. With everybody home taxing the internet capacity, my band width is definitely affected. I am spending hours putting more than 800 pictures into a presentation. With any luck I may be able to share it in the near future. Let me know if that may be something that is of interest.
Blessings from quarantine in Panama,
Greg and Jen
Travel in a Corona Virus World As many of you know we had extensive travel plans for most of March and again in April and May.
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5005 Things-2 [BUNDLE]
Publisher: Wintertree Software
This special bundle product contains the following titles.
1001 Ancient Altars
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1001 Ancient Altars The adventurers have entered a large chamber deep in the dungeon. It appears to be empty aside from a few vermin, but there is a large altar on a low dais at the far end. They gather around it.. GM: The altar is made of black marble. It's rectangular, and is carved with images of monsters devouring humans. There is something that looks like it might be dried blood on the top. Jarmak and Lyry feel extremely uncomfortable just being near it. Party Leader: An altar … maybe there's a clue to Torkan's treasure here. Yash knows there hasn't been one anywhere else in this forsaken pit. Jarmak: Being a priest, do I recognize anything about this? GM: Yes, you spot some distinctive symbols among the carvings; this was used by worshipers of Gul-Zon, Lord of Scorpion...
1001 Dangerous Doors
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1001 Dangerous Doors The adventurers have been exploring the catacombs under the ruins of Castle Eltsac-Deniur. After fighting innumerable vermin and nuisance monsters, and one very determined band of goblins, they are clearing away fallen timbers and stones blocking one of the deeper passages. GM: You have cleared enough of the debris so you can see through to the other side. Party leader: Garin will look before we go through. Besides his darksight, his sturdiness will come in handy if there's something waiting to leap through at us. GM: The passageway continues beyond the debris. It seems to contain nothing but dust and cobwebs, plenty of both. After about ten feet, it ends in a door. Warrior: A door, eh? This may be the way to the deep levels rumor spoke of. What's it look ...
1001 Fantastic Fungi
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1001 Fantastic Fungi The trek through the caverns of the deep darkness has been long and arduous. The adventurers' guide, Squag, a wizened little creature who seems to be half gnome and half goblin and only communicates with hisses and growls, has been indefatigable, urging them on across difficult terrain, through mazes of twisty little passages, across bottomless gorges, and even along a subterranean river. Somewhere ahead of them is the means to restore their comrade to human form.. GM: On the far side of this cavern, Squag has scampered to a dark opening. He is waving you forward, and seems to be very excited. Party leader: We'll move up carefully, looking for any signs of an ambush. Warrior: When I look away from the lantern light, do I see anything in what is dark to thes...
1001 Flowing Fountains
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1001 Flowing Fountains The adventurers, hot and weary, straggle into the lush, green glade. At the center of the sunny clearing, surrounded by flowers, is a beautiful fountain, with a nymph pouring silvery water out of a pitcher. Near the fountain, ethereal music can be heard.. GM: You seem to have left your pursuers behind, but now you're lost, and Jarmak can't go any further. Ranger: This isn't a good place to camp; where there's a fountain, there are people. Or … things. Jarmak: That looks like it might be a healing fountain. I need it. Ranger: Looks can be deceiving. It looks too good. Mage: This looks like a good time to use my magical coin for today. The mage finds a small pouch in his many pockets and brings out an odd, shimmering coin. Coin of Wisdom, answer me no...
1001 Interesting Islands
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1001 Interesting Islands The adventurers, relaxing at last after weeks of hard and dangerous work, are enjoying their current task. In the sloop Swallow, they have been cruising around through numerous small tropical islands, looking for the brother of their patron, who was last seen heading for this area with what he believed was a treasure map. GM: You're coming up on the largest island you've visited to date. It looks to be ten or twelve miles in diameter, with a volcanic peak at the center from which a faint trickle of smoke is rising. As you pass the north end, you see a jutting outcrop of rock that resembles a skull. Party Leader: This may be the place. (after consulting with other players) We'll continue sailing around the island and see if there's a protected cove on t...
Total value: $7.50 Special bundle price: $6.00 Savings of: $1.50 (20%)
Price: $7.50
5005 Things-2 [BUNDLE] published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com
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5005 Things-2 [BUNDLE]
Publisher: Wintertree Software
This special bundle product contains the following titles.
1001 Ancient Altars
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1001 Ancient Altars The adventurers have entered a large chamber deep in the dungeon. It appears to be empty aside from a few vermin, but there is a large altar on a low dais at the far end. They gather around it.. GM: The altar is made of black marble. It's rectangular, and is carved with images of monsters devouring humans. There is something that looks like it might be dried blood on the top. Jarmak and Lyry feel extremely uncomfortable just being near it. Party Leader: An altar … maybe there's a clue to Torkan's treasure here. Yash knows there hasn't been one anywhere else in this forsaken pit. Jarmak: Being a priest, do I recognize anything about this? GM: Yes, you spot some distinctive symbols among the carvings; this was used by worshipers of Gul-Zon, Lord of Scorpion...
1001 Dangerous Doors
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1001 Dangerous Doors The adventurers have been exploring the catacombs under the ruins of Castle Eltsac-Deniur. After fighting innumerable vermin and nuisance monsters, and one very determined band of goblins, they are clearing away fallen timbers and stones blocking one of the deeper passages. GM: You have cleared enough of the debris so you can see through to the other side. Party leader: Garin will look before we go through. Besides his darksight, his sturdiness will come in handy if there's something waiting to leap through at us. GM: The passageway continues beyond the debris. It seems to contain nothing but dust and cobwebs, plenty of both. After about ten feet, it ends in a door. Warrior: A door, eh? This may be the way to the deep levels rumor spoke of. What's it look ...
1001 Fantastic Fungi
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Format: Watermarked PDF
1001 Fantastic Fungi The trek through the caverns of the deep darkness has been long and arduous. The adventurers' guide, Squag, a wizened little creature who seems to be half gnome and half goblin and only communicates with hisses and growls, has been indefatigable, urging them on across difficult terrain, through mazes of twisty little passages, across bottomless gorges, and even along a subterranean river. Somewhere ahead of them is the means to restore their comrade to human form.. GM: On the far side of this cavern, Squag has scampered to a dark opening. He is waving you forward, and seems to be very excited. Party leader: We'll move up carefully, looking for any signs of an ambush. Warrior: When I look away from the lantern light, do I see anything in what is dark to thes...
1001 Flowing Fountains
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1001 Flowing Fountains The adventurers, hot and weary, straggle into the lush, green glade. At the center of the sunny clearing, surrounded by flowers, is a beautiful fountain, with a nymph pouring silvery water out of a pitcher. Near the fountain, ethereal music can be heard.. GM: You seem to have left your pursuers behind, but now you're lost, and Jarmak can't go any further. Ranger: This isn't a good place to camp; where there's a fountain, there are people. Or … things. Jarmak: That looks like it might be a healing fountain. I need it. Ranger: Looks can be deceiving. It looks too good. Mage: This looks like a good time to use my magical coin for today. The mage finds a small pouch in his many pockets and brings out an odd, shimmering coin. Coin of Wisdom, answer me no...
1001 Interesting Islands
Regular price: $1.50
Bundle price: $1.50
Format: Watermarked PDF
1001 Interesting Islands The adventurers, relaxing at last after weeks of hard and dangerous work, are enjoying their current task. In the sloop Swallow, they have been cruising around through numerous small tropical islands, looking for the brother of their patron, who was last seen heading for this area with what he believed was a treasure map. GM: You're coming up on the largest island you've visited to date. It looks to be ten or twelve miles in diameter, with a volcanic peak at the center from which a faint trickle of smoke is rising. As you pass the north end, you see a jutting outcrop of rock that resembles a skull. Party Leader: This may be the place. (after consulting with other players) We'll continue sailing around the island and see if there's a protected cove on t...
Total value: $7.50 Special bundle price: $6.00 Savings of: $1.50 (20%)
Price: $7.50
5005 Things-2 [BUNDLE] published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com
0 notes
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