Legend Of the old one

She was already old by the time I was born. Some said she was beautiful as a child. However it was hard to tell, seeing as how no one lived long enough to watch her age. But you could still see it when you looked at her, even in her advanced years, she moved with inhuman grace and held herself with a sort of upright pride. And although her hair had long since turned grey, it was still thick and shiny, and although her skin had wrinkled like a prune, her eyes never lost their sparkle.

She was a constant source of wonder to the world, as she ruled the wizarding world from the crystal palace on Avalon. Wise muggle kings would come in search of her knowledge and ask for her council. The ancient muggle world revered Asha, just as we wizards have always done.

When I was 10 I left my home and traveled through the eternal mist that surrounds Avalon and made the trek to her palace, as so many young witches and wizards did at that time. The journey was perilous. Dragons roamed in large packs, and at times there were so many in the sky that all the suns light was blocked by their enormous wings. Giants fiercely guarded their territory that surrounded the crystal palace on all sides. I arrived half dead from fatigue ,hunger and thirst, I was burned and badly bruised.

But just like phoenix tears the sight of the palace renewed me. I walked up the glass path towards the immense silver doors. Everything was so luminous that it hurt my eyes to look at it. So I approached squinting my eyes and using my hand to shield them from the glare.

At the doors I met a nymph who guarded the entrance to the palace. I enquired as to how I might gain entry into the palace. She smiled at me and laughed. Such sweet bell like laughter I have never heard again. As she laughed her green hair rippled and caught the light. It glittered and sparkled with the same radiance as the rest of the palace.

The nymph then proceeded to tell me a riddle, which I dare not repeat here for fear my living heart will be sneezed out of my nose one day (which ironically was the punishment for failing to answer the riddle correctly).

Luckily for me when I was 8 I caught the flu, which was a serious malady at the time, and while the nuns in the church nursed me back to health they used to pass countless hours telling me riddles. This sharpened my wits. This , coupled with the fact that the riddle was one I'd already heard gained me easy access to the inside of the palace.

The other Witches and wizards that had survived the journey were ever grateful to be studying under the tutilidge of Asha, and she in turn was grateful to have us learn from her. To us, Asha became a second mother. She gave us infinite love and patients. However she was unyeildingly strict and exacting in her lessons. Asha opened up our minds in order to make us see what the world truly was.

I can see her now, standing in the shade of a Phoenix Blood fruit tree. We all sat around her, listening intently. This, she told us very seriously, must be the most important thing we ever learn. And that if we take nothing else when we leave her, at all costs we must remember this.

She looked down on us with grave seriousness on her face. We could all feel that she was about to speak one of her profound truths. As students who were utterly devoted to her , we lived for these moments, for they were keys to unlocking every mystery in the universe.

"Go forth and speak you own truths." she told us " But always allow others to speak theirs. For while it is important to believe and keep faith with your whole heart, the beliefs that others have must never be cast aside in your mind. Because if you choose to devalue someone else's truth, all your faith, all your pure blind faith is for nothing my children. If you cannot see past yourself , then why pray at all? Your creator can't listen........won't listen.........."

I believe she knew the Gods. With my whole heart I cannot shake the feeling that she knew them each personally. When you looked into her shining grey eyes one could tell she knew what awaits us in the next world. We asked her many times to tell us. But she never would. She would never tell us who God really was. How the world was created. But she knew. Asha predated the universe.

She smelled of stars and creation. Her face had the marks of someone who had seen all there was to see. And at night when she would teach us the ways of the stars, sometimes she would tell us of civilization so ancient that all that was left of their temples was and all the bones of the people were dust. So deep below the ground that no one would ever know of them. She was right.

There was one morning when Asha showed us one of her gifts. All the students had heard of them, but she had kept them conceiled , tightly hidden from us. We all sat in one of her countless gardens. She liked to begin the morning this way. Silently she would lead us out to a garden. Sometimes she would walk for hours, sometimes she would stop a few steps from the palace doors. But when she found her spot she would sit. All of her students would follow. And there we would sit and "become acquainted with the universe." as our wonderful mother would put it.

There was one morning when we sat in small snow drifts, so far from the palace we couldn't even see it on the horizon. the wind was bitterly cold , and we had been sitting for hours. Our lips were blue. Uncontrollable cold had seized me and I thought that if I sat there much longer I would surely freeze to death. But being with Asha had given me discipline. She sat in the centre of our circle with her eyes closed, perfectly relaxed. For a moment I thought she had died, but then I saw the small gentle breaths escaping from her nostrils. She was waiting for something. That was one of the rare mornings that Asha spoke with the universe, and it spoke back.

Suddenly her eyes opened. Silently she dug a small hole in the snow, exposing the dead grass and frozen ground below. Intently Asha touched her fingers to the ground. We all watched , spell bound, unsure of what was happening. She sat like that for what seemed like hours , but when she did at long last lift her hand from the earth ,a small flower , more beautiful than any I have ever seen, or will ever see again was blooming in the spot where her fingers had touched the dead soil. I cannot describe the flower, for the sheer beauty of it brought tears to my eyes. My words could never do it justice.

As I observed my peers had observed this miracle with the same awe and wonderment as I. But Asha simply stood and turned her eyes upward in silent prayer. Then silently swept out of the Garden. We followed. It was all we knew how to do. The old one was our master. And we severed her willingly, until the day the heavens split.........................