In Search of the Alter Dom (3 page)

A sudden movement to her side made her jump! A being with a sharp, bronze coloured face and golden eyes was staring at her intently – its stare was certainly not friendly. This was no Ling even though it had the same vertical split pupils. The being had a very long pointed proboscis, which looked more like a spike than a nose. Its long sharp teeth were green stained; a half chewed leaf hung at the edge of its mouth – Blodwyn hurried on!

Lings are most active at fade of day: the glade was stirring. Some Lings watched Blodwyn from the dappled shade. She noticed a pair of gruesome female
Barbarus Harpies
with withered drooping breasts, hanging upside-down from an oak – their red eyes following her.

Daggled Nilks, in liveries of gossamer silks; are raised for war.

Sharp of eye, fang and claw; they bravely fly low and fast.

Their speed out-stripping their chasing shadows cast.

Queen Grunwalde Angharad was her normal self; obviously, she had become bored by constantly changing her size or shape to impress. Grunwalde Angharad was as beautiful as ever. But her complexion was now the colour of pale moonlight. Her eyes sparkled green like wet emeralds. Her full cherry-pie lips were ruby red and her hair shone like burnished gold. Myfanwy’s tall slender body had now become more curvaceous.

The Queen was dressed in flowing pastels of gossamer shimmers. Blodwyn watched curiously. Lings were dropping delicate dainties into Grunwalde’s ever-ready, sweet cherry-pie mouth. She reminded Blodwyn of a baby bird – willing to swallow anything!

While two beautiful Maylings braided her long hair; a dark button-eyed Sisling nibbled on Grunwalde’s left toenails, giving her a pedicure, using its razor sharp teeth. A lovely Narling painted the toenails of her other foot, a delicate pale pink.

‘Ouch – ouch! You spiteful, beastly – bug-eyed – sniveling little sod!’ Grunwalde swears at the grinning Sisling clinging onto her left foot. ‘You did that on purpose – you make me feel sick and ill – get off you little Sapp-sucking cretin before I lampoon and larrup you!’

The watching Lings howled with laughter; they loved to tease their young Queen and laugh at her
Terasil
ways. Queen Angharad then pauses and gives out a great burp: she giggles – hand over mouth, green eyes sparkling. The Lings howled with laughter.

“Charming,” thought Blodwyn. Grunwalde then lifted a chocolate to her cherry-pie mouth with a sigh of pleasure; her nostrils flaring and her naked toes wiggling in greedy anticipation.

“Gross!” thought Blodwyn. Nevertheless before Grunwalde could close her mouth, a Mayling with incredible speed swooped and snatched the chocolate away, to the amusement of the watching Lings.

‘You greedy – horrid little bugger – that was a cream truffle, I had to eat a whole boxful to get to it – I am getting mad!’ Grunwalde warns.

As if to placate their Queen, a Sisling dropped another morsel into her mouth. Grunwalde tasted…. ‘Yuk – Yuk,’ she cries pulling a face and spitting the morsel out. ‘That tasted of squirrels’ shit – you know I hate hazelnuts!’ All the Lings howled with laughter.

‘You nasty little swines – you wait – I’ll bite you!’ Grunwalde threatens; exposing her perfect, sparkling white teeth and chomping them in biting mode. The Lings again howled with laughter.

‘That’s it!’ Grunwalde declares. ‘I give you fair warning! If anyone upsets me again – I will gob on them.’ She then went into a child-like huff. ‘I am going to find a muddy puddle and sit right in the middle of it!’ Grunwalde then put on an exaggerated pout – bottom lip protruding – hands on hips.

“What an actress,” thought Blodwyn, “such childish behavior for a sixteen year old. She should set a better example in manners and stop swearing!”

Queen Angharad began to lick her face, with an unusually long tongue!

Blodwyn was becoming annoyed at waiting on Grunwalde’s pleasure; she knew the Queen of the Lings was aware she had arrived.

‘Look here – Myfanwy Jenkins.’ (Blodwyn was the only person allowed to use Grunwalde’s real name.) ‘Why have you summoned me? I have work to do at home.’

‘You are casting your shadow on my freckles,’ Grunwalde replies haughtily, ‘come and sit by my legs – cariad.’

Blodwyn knew Grunwalde wanted something. ‘Well,’ says Blodwyn, impatiently – I do not have all day.’

‘Have you ever kissed a weasel?’ Grunwalde asks.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Blodwyn answers, ‘you are becoming a proper drama queen – get to the point – why do you want to see me?’

‘Why do you wear those horrid thick, cheap spectacles cariad?’ Grunwalde asks trying to fulfill her hidden agenda. ‘I can see all the blood vessels in your eyes – you look like the old mad English woman who swears at passers-by – the one who always smells of pee?’

‘Look Myfanwy Jenkins – If I find you are wasting my time I will pull your hair – like I used to when you annoyed me – Queen or no Queen!’

‘You would not dare – my Lings would not let you,’ replies Grunwalde.

‘Your Lings will laugh,’ answers Blodwyn: tugging up her sleeves in a business like way.

Grunwalde thought for a moment. ‘Ok – on second thoughts the little buggers will laugh. But please cariad let me give you some good advice – I can improve the way you look – a quick make-over see.’

Grundwalde gently removes Blodwyn’s spectacles. ‘There, you have lovely green eyes cariad…. nearly as lovely as mine. Don’t wear spectacles anymore.’ Grunwalde puts on Blodwyn’s spectacles and turns facing her Lings; the Lings howled with laughter at the size of their Queen’s scary eyes.

‘Now Blodwyn cariad, let me give you a quick eye test,’ says Grunwalde. ‘Look up – can you see the moon peeping through the leaves?’

‘Of course I can,’ answers Blodwyn. ‘I am shortsighted – not blind, stupid!’

‘The moon is two million miles away,’ says Grunwalde. ‘How
far
do you want to see?’ The Lings howled again with laughter; Grunwalde giggles. The three Tartarus hobs did not understand the joke, but grunted pretending they did.

‘Now, Blodwyn Jones,’ continues Grunwalde, biting into a large muddy carrot, ‘I will give you another clue to improve your eyesight and your looks. What animal does the most damage to your dad’s carrot patch?’

‘Wild rabbits of course,’ answers Blodwyn, becoming annoyed.

‘Have you ever seen a wild rabbit wearing spectacles?’ Grunwalde asks.

The Lings howled again with laughter – so did the Tartarus Hobs – they understood this joke.

‘That’s not funny Myfanwy Jenkins.’ Blodwyn replies, replacing her spectacles – ‘I am warning you – don’t mention my eyes again!’

Grunwalde then lifted her bare left foot and placed it under Blodwyn’s nose and wiggled her toes. ‘Don’t you think my lovely toes are the longest, straightest and the prettiest you have ever seen cariad?’ Blodwyn noticed two expensive gold diamond rings on Grunwalde’s toes. Blodwyn ignored the question. ‘Look – stop calling me cariad – you are not my great aunt,’ says Blodwyn. ‘And take your feet out of my face!’

Grunwalde giggles. ‘Would you like your toes painted, cariad?’

‘My mother would kill me!’ answers Blodwyn.

Grunwalde giggles; hand over mouth, green eyes sparkling.

‘Set a better example in manners – stop swearing,’ orders Blodwyn.

‘Isn’t it wonderful,’ replies Grunwalde. ‘Every time I make a rude noise, and swear the little buggers laugh their heads off – you should hear some of the rude names I call the little….!’

Suddenly, both girls noticed a small, delightful being shyly observing them. This was no Ling! Blodwyn moved closer, fascinated. This lovely little female being had blue almond eyes with normal pupils, black hair and five fingers and toes. She was much smaller than any Ling. Its wings were round not streamlined like those of a Ling.

‘Is that a fairy?’ Blodwyn whispers; afraid to startle the beautiful little being.

‘They are called
Floranas –
we protect them, they are nearly extinct like
Silkies
– aren’t they delightful?’

‘What are their origins?’ asks Blodwyn fascinated. She always hoped fairies existed – if this being was indeed a fairy!

‘They are un-christened female babies, who died near midsummer’s Eve, Halloween; or the winter and spring solstices. Female babies – who die in rivers or at sea become Silkies
,
all other un-christened babies who die, male or female, become
Star
-
Children
or angels and float away from Earth!’

‘Why are they so rare?’ Blodwyn asks.

‘Because the weight of Pagan belief is
light,
since the druids have gone, only the
weight
of belief – stops Star
-
Children drifting – floating upwards away from Earth!’ Grunwalde then lifted a platter of roasted quails onto her lap.

Blodwyn knew Grunwalde was extracting tithe from local business. ‘Ugh…’ exclaim the attending Lings in disgust – Lings never touched, scale, feather or fur – loving all things sweet.

‘Nobody asked your opinion!’ Grunwalde snaps: stuffing two small birds in her mouth at once.

Blodwyn put on her best impatient look. ‘Myfanwy Jenkins – for the last time, why did you send for me – I will be late home and….’

Before Blodwyn could finish her sentence, Grunwalde shoved a whole quail deep into Blodwyn’s open mouth, nearly choking her, and giggled!

While Blodwyn struggled to extract the quail, Grunwalde Angharad threw three quails to the ground. The three Tartarus Hobs pounced; short tufted tails rampant, growling and wrestling like three hungry hyenas. For their only fare was meat, fresh, foul – or putrid! Grunwalde Angharad aimed powerful kicks at their fat, jostling behinds.

‘Isn’t it fun kicking greedy, groveling goblins, as they gobble greasy gobbets?’ giggles Grunwalde.

‘Your Hobs stink of rotten dog!’ says Blodwyn…. ‘their breath is awful!’

‘They never wash,’ replies Grunwalde, ‘and eat rotten road-kill – that is why they smell like a vegetarian’s fart!’

‘Then get them to wash,’ Blodwyn demands.

The three Hobs stopped their wrestling immediately; anxiously awaiting their Queen’s response – her word was Lingly law.

‘Getting a Tartarus Hob to wash – is like asking a stoat to cuddle a baby rabbit! Get out of my sight you ugly imbeciles.’ orders Grunwalde.

The three Hobs immediately bounded into the slowly descending gloom; cackling like hyenas, their short tufted tails rampant. The Queen of Lings wipes her greasy mouth on a fine sleeve and lets out another great belch.

‘Stop that!’ orders Blodwyn again. All the Lings howled with laughter: some made tiny burps themselves.

“How Myfanwy Jenkins had changed,” thought Blodwyn, “always a delicate child and a slow eater now she could stuff two quails into her mouth and burp louder than Bryn Jones the wino!”

However, despite Grunwalde’s childish behavior she was a powerful Queen; well respected and feared among the space traveling Advanced Races of the Antares Cluster. ‘Now Blodwyn, cariad,’ says Grunwalde, putting on her sweetest smile, ‘you are my best friend….I ask this favour. Our protector the Alter Dom has gone missing. Two Ora-Pellas saw it enter the Event Horizon of a feeding black hole – in the Andromeda Galaxy.’

‘Who is the
Alter Dom
?’ Blodwyn asks.

‘The Alter Dom is the highest being in the Antares Cluster. Its presence ensures peace and stops aggressive races attacking weak planets like Earth!’

‘Is the
Alter D
o
m
God?’ Blodwyn asks.

‘Pass – I am now a Pagan and worship only Venus. But the Alter Dom can travel through space under his own power –
it
can be as small as a wisp of smoke or as large as a mountain; it is a master Changeling
–
not restricted by molecule capacity like Lings. He or
it
– thinks I am beautiful!’ (Grunwalde was a terrible flirt!)

‘But nothing can survive beyond the Event Horizon of a feeding black hole!’ Blodwyn replies.

‘Now… that’s the strange thing!’ Answers Grunwalde. ‘Everything that enters beyond the Event Horizon leaves a life-less image behind. The Alter Dom left no image! I believe the Alter Dom is not dead, but is dallying somewhere – maybe in
False Arcadia
– on
Quilla Prime
.’

‘What are False Arcadia and Quilla Prime?’ Blodwyn asks becoming confused.

‘Paradise!’ Grunwalde answers. ‘All kinds of beings dwell there – even Terasils whose bodies and souls become as light as feathers.’

‘Where are Quilla Prime and False Arcadia?’ Blodwyn asks.

‘Not far – close to the moon!’ lies Grunwalde: her fingers crossed behind her back!

‘Is False Arcadia heaven?’ asks Blodwyn hopefully: her young mind always seeking confirmation.

‘Maybe…. maybe not?’ answers Grunwalde teasingly.

‘Why are you telling me this?’ asks Blodwyn suspiciously.

‘I want you to go on a quest – find the Alter Dom – just to the moon, mind you see!’ lies Grunwalde. ‘Tell the Alter Dom, that the Malis Afar and the Na Idriss plan to attack his friends – the Galla Qualls and Ida Jaade – then Earth!’

‘What!’ gasps Blodwyn open-mouthed, ‘leave Earth, I have never left Wales. My name is Blodwyn Jones – not Indiana Jones!’

Grunwalde knew, but neglected to tell Blodwyn, that the Malis Afar planned to capture the Queen of Lings! Blodwyn was the perfect decoy; they could be twins apart from the spectacles. After all, who knows, the resourceful Blodwyn might even find the Alter Dom! Grunwalde also conveniently forgot to mention that Quilla Prime was nowhere near the moon. In actual fact Quilla Prime the planet in which False Arcadia was situated was sixty-six million light years away: far beyond the Lupus wormhole!

‘Who are the Malis Afar and Na Idriss?’ Blodwyn asks.

‘They evolved on Earth long before humans. An asteroid did not wipe out the dinosaurs – it was the intelligent and bloodthirsty
Malisaraptors.
They quickly evolved into humanoids and began calling themselves the Malis Afar. The feline Na Idriss are the vassals of the “Cold-bloods”. After ten million years, the Malis Afar were building spacecraft! The “Cold-bloods
”
are afraid of temperatures near freezing and were forced to leave Earth before the great ice age – now they wish to return, due to global warming – I wished I did more recycling!’