The Vault of Lost Tales

Memoirs of an Enchanted Sojourner

Month: October, 2013

Why save the Queen?

In the realm of mortals, Queens (who are a rarity) are chosen, more or less by the people, or the ruling body of the people.

In the enchanted realms, it is the Queen who chooses, and not the other way around.

To understand the importance of this, a mortal might have to look to some things that they all too often overlook—some very small things indeed.

Bees, Ants, and Termites are creatures that come into existence by way of a Queen. Not only is the Queen the reason for the origination of these families of creatures, but she is also the rhyme, for without her continued presence within the colony, the bees, ants, and termites cease to exist or maintain their lives, or order, or purpose.

Why is it important for these little creatures to be spawned and propagated and to maintain their order and purpose? Because these creatures are the invisible little workers that give mortals their food, medicine, and subsistence, for they are the custodians of the plant kingdom.

If the Queen disappears, the bees disappear, if the bees disappear, plants and flowers and trees disappear, if the plants, flowers and trees disappear, mortals and animals begin to disappear too.

In the mortal realm, a Queen elected or placed by other mortals, can abdicate from her position, die, or otherwise be removed, but the people of that land will still live on and continue their day to day lives.

A Queen in the mortal realm is like a figurehead or a symbol of an ideal–her affect upon her people is ephemeral and not literal or existential in any way, shape, or form.

However, a Queen in the Enchanted Realm is the axis of existence itself, the key to order, balance and purpose; without her, Enchanted folk cease to be.

This is why The Lost Queen is Iona’s raison d’etre—this is why she is willing to give her life at all costs to find Her before it is too late…

Love Interrupted

Have you ever wondered if there is something amiss about love?

It always seems to come at some kind of price, or with some kind of condition, when deep in the heart, something argues that it should be free and painless. What gives with love?

Whether male or female, mortal relationships resemble a more “predator and prey” interplay, than a harmonious egalitarian meeting of the mind and heart in companionship.

The terms that are commonly used in reference to acquiring a mate are ‘catch’ ’bait’ ‘hook’ ‘snatch’ ‘snag’ and so forth. All of these terms are also used in hunting and fishing as well, with the process of actively finding a mate itself literally being coined fishing and hunting.

I would not want to eat, kill, or devour my potential companion, neither would I want that person to be deceived into being with me in anyway. I would want my mate(s) to choose me, voluntarily and deliberately of their own free will, as I would do of them.

When did love and companionship devolve into survival of the hungry hunter? When did supposed superior, intelligent beings decay into bestial slaves of a rhetorical ‘blood-lust’, resorting to trickery and deception to trap someone to eat? (Oops—I meant find someone to love)

One could even go so far as to say that the lost art of courtship has rather deteriorated into a state of predatory cannibalism—-no?

Well, there is a reason for all of this, or more say a cause behind this ‘corruption of the guild of love’.

This cause did not originate in the realm of mortals, but instead was seeded in the Enchanted Realms.

The book The Lost Queen reveals much of this to its reader, as you curious ones soon shall discover…



Iona’s Hope

The Queen is lost, who shall find her?

Of our sorry state, this is a reminder

Governed by tyrants, traitors and fools

Unfairness, greed and favoritism rules

Where o’ where did they take our Queen?

It has been forever since she last was seen

Did she mean to vanish and abandon us so?

To find her is the only way to ever truly know

We ask and ask, but all turn us away

It is dubious to accept her absence as fate

Things were so good when the Queen was here

But the way things are now brings us to tears

Somebody knows, so why don’t they tell?

A pall is cast over us, a dark and ugly spell

We fell, the day our true Queen disappeared

Highly revered, what’s become of her is feared

Endeared by all enchanted creatures

The Queen brought out our best features

A wise and kind teacher, we could always reach her

Why do the nymphs act as if we don’t now need her?

Our natural leader, I plead her, to return to us

The dark ones ruling over the lands burn our trust

And turn our dreams to dust, return the Queen must

To restore the balance and harmony of our lands

It can be achieved, but only by the Queen’s hand

It is her inborn nature to keep the realms in proper order

What would she say if she came today to Crystal Orchard?

Would she be ashamed of what her nymph colony had become?

Would all of us be punished and publicly shunned?

Would the Dark Triad finally be exposed & done?

I must discover how our wonderful Queen was lost

Upon which the balance of the realms depends at all cost

I will find our lost Queen if it is the thing that kills me

Whatever is hiding you Queen, I promise to reveal thee

Be it some dark twisted force that binds you

Beloved Queen, Iona vows her life to find you

The Land of Nod

Dream a little dream, nice as it may seem, and dare to remember you are there

Free of care, into the Ether World you stare, nothing but your soul you wear


Naked of your body, caressing your earthly folly, as sorted images take form

Some from your life, others from the night, the fright of an otherworldly storm


You wake to find relief, thankful the nightmare was brief, shivering wet in your sheets

Only to remember, the dream was of December, the night you lost your love in grief


How can this be, a dream so full and complete, of a chance meeting with your sweet

The one you lost and would get back at all cost, but the waking world steals and cheats


Back to reality, smiles and formalities, all to pretend your life is grand

But behind the mask, your world is sinking fast, in the blinking twilight’s quicksand


You know he was there, for into his eyes you stared, but alas it was just a dream

Alone in your room, you remember his tomb, and call out for him with a horrid scream


But he doesn’t answer, your pain spreads like cancer, because you know that he is dead

A faint whisper in the dark, touches the pit of your heart, alas, it was all in your head


That is what everyone said, one must let go of the dead, for those who don’t are mad

But what if the dead hold on, remain when the body is gone, for love true once had?


Able to reach us, when our body is asleep thus, for then we can’t guard against them

Those on the other side, whose souls are quite alive, despite their bodies growing dim


It is a meeting place, a fleeting space, a glimpse of the beloved if only for a moment

To discard or retard it, or by craziness to regard it, is a recipe for the loneliest torment


To the unloving it is a myth, imagined by the mentally unfit, a belief in the strangely odd

But to the heart of the beloved, it’s a secret place to covet, a meeting in the Land of Nod