The Druid

By Antonio Almas

This book tells the story of Ian, a Celtic druid who falls in love with a young woman. The book tells the story of young Ian's apprenticeship to become a druid, along the way he meets Astrid, a young woman who turns to Ian to help her heal. During this process the druid discovers that Astrid is not exactly who he thought she was ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Jul 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667407906

Book preview

The Druid

By

António Almas

Map of the skies according to ancient Egyptians

High in the mountains, the peaks remained in eternal snow. The forest rushed down steep slopes, here and there dotted with clearings where the snow was a soft blanket covering the ground. Rounded granite boulders looked like balls scattered across the landscape in a tangle of trees. Further down, the forest, denser and wetter, engulfed everything, leaving only a hint of green vegetation. The grove reached the northern margin of the lake, some of its specimens leaning dangerously over the calm waters. A few meters from the banks, the house. With sloping roofs, it was the only human construction within a radius of many kilometers. Built in a small clearing, it had sturdy walls of grayish granite up to the second floor, then made of strong tree trunks from the forest, which in an unusual braiding continued up to the roof. The atmosphere was magical, the mist was an obligatory visitor at daylight and at night only the rustle of some owls broke the silence.  

Ian was sitting on the small dock that jutted out into the lake. At the end of each afternoon he liked to sit there, watch the sun set over the treetops, listen to the nature around him.

With his feet sunk in the water he lies down, closes his eyes and feels the world spinning, listens to the music of nature that always seems to play in a heavenly tone that enchants him. He lets go as if fluctuating in an atmosphere of Ether. The denser body stays on the dock like a docked ship, the soul, light as the wind, departs for distant journeys, for distant lands, follows the ancestral courses, old energy paths it knows so well. The croaking of the frogs brings it back, it lands on the body with the lightness of a bird and emerges in the place of always.

Already the stars dot the sky as Ian returns through the passageway, the wood creaks softly with his every step, wet feet following the path home. It is Spring and the nights are still cold, with his body bristling he climbs the steps that lead him to the gazebo, opens the kitchen door, feels the warm comfort of the home that welcomes him with open arms. This sensation embraces him like a tender childhood memory, when life was simpler, long before his dawn.

The old house is spread over two floors with wide partitions. On the second floor there is a huge kitchen, with wide windows overlooking the lake. A living room with doors leading to the gazebo, where two huge sofas close at right angles and the decorations reveal a classic style; there is a piano on one side and a small bar that accommodates some liquors. At the main entrance, opposite the lake, there is a vestibule with a coat rack where some coats are suspended and two or three antique canes decorate the whole. The noble part of this floor is the huge library, with bookshelves that run along the walls up to the ceiling. Few are the empty spaces, in the center of the library two large black mahogany tables serve as support, they are filled with stacks of books between notes and loose papers. An atelier with large windows allows an abundance of light, this simple space has paintings and white canvases leaning against the walls, in the center an easel for painting and a small table full of charcoals and watercolors, some inks and brushes. A bathroom.

Upstairs there are four rooms, all in the same classical style as downstairs. The lake room, where Ian usually rests, has a balcony along the glass doors with a view of the dock.

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Before going to bathe, Ian puts the kettle on the fire with water to make an infusion with herbs he usually collects in the forest. In the generously sized bathroom, a round Japanese-style wooden bathtub occupies the center of the space, a huge mirror is balanced in a corner on a tripod; Ian lights the incense burner in the shape of a reclining Budda where various scents are outlined and lights some candles. He turns on the hot water and pours into the huge bathtub a bath oil produced from forest plants based on natural essences.

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Research and alchemy, according to ancestral methods dating back to the time of his Celtic ancestors, have always accompanied Ian in his walk through the ages. In his library he keeps copies of ancient books, researches formulas and studies from ancient times the old codices of alchemy, magic and druidism. His laboratory, where he develops his knowledge, is in a secret compartment under the foundations of the old house. The forest outside is his source of natural resources, where, in harmony with Mother Nature, he collects the herbs, minerals and stones he uses in his rituals.

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The whistling of the kettle awakens Ian's attention, it is time to dip the dried herbs into the boiling water; he hurries to the kitchen where he pours the just-boiled water into an antique vessel; on the counter, a set of stacked wooden boxes contain various dried herbs, separated by names; next to them, small silk bags are used to dip the mixture into the kettle. Ian chooses chamomile, lemon balm and bits of cinnamon stick, closes the bag and dips it into the hot water. He takes a cup out of the cupboard and waits a few moments for the infusion to be infused with the scent of the herbs.

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On his walks through the forest, Ian observes nature, pays attention to every detail that surrounds him, listens to the sounds, sifts through the vegetation and scans the fragrances of the plants he knows so well. On these walks, he always brings a cloth bag with him, to place the leaves he finds along the path; he walks for days on end without noticing the passage of time. The vegetation envelops him completely, in body and spirit, the sounds are music and the air is light and fresh. On these expeditions, Ian gathers the knowledge of Mother Nature, exercises body and mind.

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On his way back to the bathroom, he takes with him the drink he has just made; the perfumes that invade the atmosphere are now mingled with the aromas of tea. He turns off the water, undresses and lets his body slowly enter the hot water. Throughout the house there are books scattered, on shelves, on chairs, on tables; this compartment does not escape the rule and also here, on the bench next to the bathtub where Ian rests the cup, there is a book that he opens to read; on the spine is written: The Secret of the Emerald Tablet.

He opens the first page and utters a phrase he learned many years ago, in his distant childhood:

- Verum sine mendacio, certum et verissimum: Quod est inferius est sicut quod est superius, et quod est superius est sicut quod est inferius, ad perpetranda miracula rei unius.

(But, without lie, true and very true: what is below is like what is above and what is above is like what is below to perpetrate miracles only of one thing).

And he continued on another page. He never studied this book without reading the sentence at the beginning, even if he knew it, he always executed the same rite, open the first page and read the sentence.

In Ian's laboratory there are all kinds of ointments and mixtures, elaborated with ancestral formulas, secrets passed down among druids and alchemists, kept in secret books. The materials are extracted from nature and Ian's wise hands hurriedly follow the ancient writings. Besides that he also researches, reads, experiments, and the result of his work is recognized by his peers all over the world. From far away people come to him to help them, to heal them, to listen to them. Ian is a special being, a magical person, a pure soul who spreads positive energies to all those who visit him.

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The water begins to get cold and he is forced to finish reading, he washes his body and goes out to dry himself; the book is left on the bench where the cup is also empty. He returns to the kitchen wrapped in a robe to eat a light meal and return to the laboratory where important work awaits him. As he passes the library, he senses a lump in the dark, stops, feels a shiver