This Tale of the Navel popped into my head. Guess I'm mentally preparing for Camp NaNoWriMo. Besides it's been a while since Madam Journey wandered into one of my stories...
Few looked twice at the wrinkled old woman in shabby skirts, tattered scarves wrapped around her head, pushing a cart. To the passing eye, Madam Journey was just another bag lady.
None of this concerned her. She just kept walking. Even when the world changed around her, the pavement turning into cobblestones beneah her feet, the cart itself changing from metal to wood, Madam Journey moved along.
Walking between worlds was her speciality. She moved through Doors unseen, shadows not even noticing her, although they sniffed for a moment at the cart.
She ignored them, found another path and followed it, coming out onto another cobbled street in a small town. Heads turned to eye her, but just for a moment. Many of the citizens had pointed ears, feline whiskers, or glowing eyes. There was always something about those living in Omphalos, something different. If the old lady was here, why, she was one of them.
Madam Journey didn’t pause in pushing the cart, although she did nod to a tall, thin girl who swayed down the street, not quite looking at anyone. Not that she guessed Hebe would remember her. It had been a long time.
She kept moving until she came to a close between shops which neither she nor the cart should have been able to squeeze through. In spite of this, Madam Journey trotted into the gap, the space widening as she did, allowing her passage.
A tall, golden haired woman wearing a loose tunic and flowing skirts waited for Madam Journey at the back of the shop. Today those skirts were covered with tiny shells dangling from long, silver and bronze chains. Matching shells were draped around her neck, dangling from her ears, and woven in her hair.
Too many people didn’t take the proprietor of the Navel seriously due to her flashy, if not eccentric clothes. Madam Journey wasn’t one of them. Gabrielle might look like a woman, yet she was far more than that. Still she was trying to live as a human woman, plus she was an important part of the community of Omphalos. Not that most folk around here realized that.
“Y’know, the Navel sometimes reminds me of the ultimate lost and found.” Madam Journey stopped her cart to face Gabrielle. “People lost something. I find it and bring it here. Eventually they come and collect it.” Madam Journey cocked her head and sniffed at the air. “Unless those somethings find their way into the Navel by themselves. I’m guessing you’ll find a few additions on your shelves you won’t recognize.”
“I often do.” ‘Brie stepped up beside the cart. “Not that I don’t appreciate all the items you bring here.”
“Saves me a trip or three, coming here.” Madam Journey dug into the cart. She pulled out a purple toadstool, uprooted and dirty. “I believe this is for you.”
Tears gathered in Gabrielle’s dark blue eyes at the sight of it. She took the fungus in hands that trembled. “He’s alive.” She cupped the toadstool with a protective, almost maternal tenderness. “Both of them are.”
“You can’t go opening Doors to the Shadow Forest without leaving something of yourself alive there, no matter how you might break or change.” Madam Journey dug through what a blind eye might see as trash in the cart. “You’ll live. Maybe it’ll be in a new form, but you’ll live.” She pulled out a painting of a mountain under a stormy sky with a tower jutting on the top of it. “This is yours, too. For now.”
Gabrielle tensed at the sight of that familiar mound looming over the valley below. No wonder. A similar hill looked down on Omphalos, on every Omphalos. In this particular Omphalos, there was a circle of stones topping it.
In another Omphalos, there might well be a tower with a skeletal crown, clawing at the heavens. Anyone who’d seen this particular sight trembled if there was a stormy sky overhead.
Power was brewing. Whomever built the tower wanted power. They sensed it in the sky, but the sky didn’t like it. It would strike back with fire and lighting. It would take that crown and anyone near it.
Would the tower be able to take the blows? Or would part of it still stand after the heavens vented its rage? Its foundations were going to shake.
This was often bad news for Omphalos. Any Omphalos. This was the problem with being the town, village, or single cottage living in the shadow of the tower. When it took a beating, Omphalos got beaten up, too. Only the barest bones might be left behind.
“I recognize this art style.” Gabrielle pressed the toadstool to her breast, paying no attention to the dirt. She kept those blue eyes of hers fixed on the tower. “Damian, Damian, what are you trying to do?”
“What many a sorcerer before him has. Challenge the heavens.” Madam Journey sighed. “It would be much easier for that boy if he’d chosen to be a fool rather than a sorcerer. Fools go everywhere, learn all kinds of stuff sorcerers are too proud to.”
“Is that why you continue to travel, Madam Journey?” Gabrielle lowered her hands, still clutching their precious burden. “There was a time when you could have built a tower. Become the greatest sorcerer of them all.” She turned that storm colored eye of hers on the other woman. “If you had challenged the heavens, you would have won.”
“Why would I want to do that?” Madam Journey backed away a step. “If I did, I’d have all the power of the heavens, but also all of the responsibility.” She shook her head, tassels swaying on her scarves wrapped around her head. “Following the path I do allows me to see the world. To stop and rest when I please. Sure, from time to time I come close to the abyss, but I’ve had a better look at it than anyone. This may help the next time a fool dances near the edge.”
“If only there were more sorcerers like you.” Gabrielle heaved a sigh and stared at the painting. “Wise enough not to want power.”
“Now, now, we don’t all want the same thing and that boy has got to make his own choices!” Madam Journey waved a wrinkled finger at Gabrielle. “You know that better than most, ‘Brie. Have some faith in him.” She glanced down at the painting in her hands. “Your Damian is as smart as he is stupid. The smart might just win in the end.”
“You’re right.” In a swift, decisive move, Gabrielle pocketed the toadstool in one of the gaping folds of her skirt. She reached out to take the painting from the other woman. “Thank you.”
“Eh, we’re in the business, right? Gotta help each other when we can.” Madam Journey winked and wandered around the cart to start backing it up. “You take care of yourself, ‘Brie. Don’t let yourself worry too much.”
“You, too, Madam Journey.” Gabrielle watched the old woman shuffle away, moving backwards.
Poor girl. She was one of the few people who knew the contents in Madam Journey’s cart, what they truly were. Similar, yet different from what was on the shelves of the Navel.
Some thought ‘Brie was a fool, staying in that shop, looking after them.
Madam Journey was just glad of the help. No one else knew how important trinkets and trash could be to the right person.
She and ‘Brie, they were there to see they made their way back to them.
Only Gabrielle was stuck here, looking after the Navel while Madam Journey got to wander the world.
It didn’t always seem fair, but the world wasn’t always a fair place. What was important was making the best of what you got and changing it when it got too bad to put up with.
‘Brie was getting a lot better at both.
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