The Ballard of The Prince of Light

The Spell of Tokoloshe

“The Queen of Light shall not exist within your loving eyes.

Both pupils blind will be your fate, your vision I despise.

Take the voice from both adulterers and turn it into a scream

And cast it to the howling winds to haunt your nights and dreams.

The sensation of touch, Sangoma, you'll never feel again.

For every year that passes of ten, you'll feel the pain.

Wear the age upon your face ten times for every year.

Crippled with sorrow, racked with pain, riddled with fear.

Winter sleet, driving blizzards, thunder’s deafening song,

Squealing bats, howling dogs and banshees join the throng.

Frozen toes and crippled fingers with the cunning of a rat

I turn your mortal lover into a mangy, servile cat.

May he follow you, caress you, but you will never so much

As understand his love, feel his warmth or recognise his touch.

Both of you I banish to the dark Mountain of Nightmare

For a Warlock's lifetime... an eternity of despair.

Skin of slugs and leeches breathe

I banish you both to a living death.

Spirits of the shadows, spirits of the dark side

On Vulture and Hyena, I beg you swiftly ride.

Hair of lichen, nails of stone

Two lovers together, two lovers alone.

Curse of the black death, curse of the night,

Seal their fate, seal their plight.”

 The Queen of Light

Sangoma was a young girl with gleaming black hair and piercing green eyes. Her every act was one of beauty.  The joy of life shone in her face. I remember the first time I saw her.

She was a witch who cared not for the dark side of sorcery. The Queen of Light and Prince of Happiness were forever in her spells. She lived alone halfway up Rainbow Ridge in the Mountains of Light.

 No one knew how she got there or from whence she came. Rumours had abounded for centuries that a witch lived up on the ridge. So, one day I decide to venture up there and see for myself. Just a fresh faced apprentice carpenter, was I.

 I did not take the usual hiker’s path into the mountains, but instead ventured through the thick forest along the ridge and then cut my way through the black thicket. Like the rest of my villagers, I believed that only evil lay within the black thicket; how wrong we were. Upon two thousand steps, the thicket opened to a bright valley vista of tranquil beauty.

 A cascade of water tumbled gracefully through the valley, rolling, and splashing its way over a bed of smooth shining black rocks creating the vision of a thousand rainbows. Further along, it formed immense mirror pools which gleaned like crystals in the sunlight. To one side, above these pools stood a quaint little stone cottage. Snug, safe and warm, perched halfway up the green velvet valley wall.

 I saw her there running water uphill to her cottage. I wondered entranced into this wonderous valley. We smiled, we spoke, we fell in love.

 I visited Sangoma every spare moment. People in the village thought I had discovered gold. They were forever asking me why I was always hiking into the Mountains of Light, but I could never tell them of the pure beauty and happiness I had found on Rainbow Ridge. There was no way they would understand.

 We shared so much together. She showed me her witchcraft and sorcery and shared with me the tales of life as a white witch. She called me Doobie-flakie, at first because she didn't know my name and later on as a lover’s nickname that reminded us both of when we first met and were overcome by the spell of love.

 We spent hours together wondering the dream like mountain sides of the Mountains of Light. Picnicking in the sun, running water up to the cottage, cooking at the open fire, while forever staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. Then on a fateful warm December afternoon when we fell into each other’s arms and made love.

 Sangoma never told me that she had been promised to the evil Warlock Tokoloshe. She never told me that she had turned away his loving advances every year for centuries. She never told me that his sorcery was much more powerful than hers could ever be. She never told me that his jealous possessiveness had grown into an obsession.

 So he came, the evil warlock, with icy cold raging winds, claps of thunder, and bolts of lightning as we lay together. He rode around our lover’s bed on the back of a snickering Hyena.

 I will never forget the words that made up his spell, the “Spell of Tokoloshe”. His voice boomed and rumbled like thunder; his eyes were red with fire. Flames leapt from his eye sockets with every word he spoke. Day turned to night and the air to ice.

 We were swept up into a vortex of evil. No longer will I hear Sangoma's soft voice or see her sweet face. No longer will she feel my warm loving touch. Banished to the Mountain of Nightmares. Confined to what feels and smells like a cold, damp stone platform of moss, lichen, and ice. Open to the elements and devoid of love.

 There were times when I lay with her I could feel the warmth of my body warm the eternal chill in her soul. There were times when I could sense her thoughts and I knew she could sense mine. At those times we reasserted our love for one another.  At times the sensation of Sangoma whispering “Doobie-flakie” drifted into my head and I knew I was in her thoughts.

 In the blind chill, I could feel her reach out for me, groping ever so helplessly, searching for the warmth and security of my love. I could feel the torment and pain of knowing that she would never feel or recognise my touch again.

 Although I could not see her, I knew she had grown old and crippled. I could sense her pain, her anguish, and her fear that one day the evil Tokoloshe would return. We were condemned forever to be together, but forever apart.

A Mortal’s Song of Love

 An angel’s voice clear, pure, and true,

Cannot match my love for you.

You make flowers blossom in the warm spring air.

You define colour with your porcelain skin so fair.

You are my warmth; you are my light;

You are my sensation; you are my sight.

I long for your touch, your sweet soft caress,

The love from your bosom, the warmth of your breast.

I long to hold you in my arms,

Your sweet perfume, your smiling charms.

Your soft angelic whispers dance upon my ear.

My happiness overflows when you are near.

You are my sustenance; you are my air.

To you, sweet Sangoma, nothing can compare.

Conjure the Wizard

 For hour upon hour, I would focus my thoughts on Sangoma, telling myself that I can break this spell, that through the warmth of our love and strength of mind that I too can have powers as great as those of Tokoloshe. One day I will challenge him and break this spell!

Thoughts of a new life drift past me like warm eddies in a stream,

I reach out to find my Sangoma, who is closer than she seems.

But all I feel is age and ice, cold and remote

And sense the sorcerer’s pleasure as he gloats.

The greater my focus on breaking the evil spell the colder it became. I remember long periods of still coldness where the chill of the stone rode up through my legs and froze my spine. Other times we were exposed to the ravages of blizzards and ice storms. All the while the faint menacing growl of thunder became a constant roar accompanied by howling banshees and the screams of tortured tormented souls.

 Amid such a storm I stood on my hind legs and imagined that I was bellowing out a challenge to Tokoloshe. I would bellow:

The Prince of Light

“I challenge the evil sorcerer’s powers, for he hath torn our world apart

And call on the Prince of Light to ignite the fires in our hearts.

Unfurl the wings of love and take flight on a warm summer breeze.

Unleash the powers of passion and desire to ramble where they please.

Push back the forces of darkness and melt the ice in Sangoma’s soul.

Usurp the Sorcerer’s powers and reverse the order of control.

Undo the evil spell that left us with blind, cold despair.

Cast out the jealous lover’s rage and replace it with warmth, love, and care.

We are condemned to be together, but forever apart,

But I will break this spell with the warmth and strength of my heart.

I raise my hands to the heavens, for a wizard’s power I pray

For I will build my powers and call Tokoloshe to his judgement day.

Let the Finches sing their songs of happiness,

Let Sangoma feel my sweet caress,

Let the Sun burn bright and warm,

Let the flowers blossom and bees swarm.

Let laughter fill the air,

Ending the days of despair.

Let light fill our dark shadowy sky

And Angels sing joyous songs of love on high.

Like Spring turns back the Winter cold

The Prince of Light will break the spells of old.

Like the Summer Sun warms the soul

For you, Tokoloshe, the bell doeth toll.

Curse that Tokoloshe, curse his spell

Curse the ice of Winter and the fires of Hell.

Curse the power he doeth hold.

And make my powers strong and bold.

Oh, Wizards of Goodness, oh Prince of Light,

Cast out the demons, cast out the night.

Oh white dove of peace, oh flowers of love,

Anoint me with the powers from the heavens above.

Deliver us from this evil, deliver us from this hell.

Cast out the sorcerer, cast out his spell.

Melt the iceberg and quell the blizzard

I am the Prince of Light, I am the Wizard.”

 Flashes of lightning light up our cold grey rock platform. Deafening screams filled the air. Again, lightning flashed and there against an ice capped rock I saw Sangoma, leaning, head down and forlorn. She shivered from both the cold and fear, her body old and haggard, but deep inside I knew lay the warmth and beauty of the girl I first met on Rainbow Ridge. The lightning struck again, this time hitting the platform, splitting rocks and throwing debris across the platform.

 “I can see! I can see!”

 My mind was racing, swirling with a thousand brooding thoughts like a menacing tornado. The darkness was pitch and blinding. Every bolt of lightning opened my sight and fed my defiance. Every surge of lightning filled me with strength, warmth and power. I could feel the blizzard ice bounce off my frame, I could feel the wind swirl around me, and I could hear the deafening roar of thunder.

 In a deep guttural deafening rumble Tokoloshe muttered;

The Anger of Tokoloshe

 Who is this feline who challenges my power?

Ha, a mute cat which lacks its sight!

Why does it annoy me by the hour,

Conjuring the unknown Wizard of Light?

Who is this wizard you conjure so?

Who is the prince you call?

I implore your wizard to make a show.

Come challenge me, Tokoloshe, and suffer your fall.

Clashes of thunder and howling blizzards

Echo my anger and scorn.

Carried on the back of Komoto lizards

I tear apart the lost and forlorn.

Stab at the soul of their love

And freeze their hearts to the core.

Tear off the wings of the Turtle Dove

And implant them on the back of a whore.

Suffer the scorn for your mortal lust

Extinguish the warmth of your will.

I turn your hagged princess to powdery dust

And turn on you for my final kill.

I turned to see Sangoma, but where she once slumped was a pile of dust. The gale swirled the Sangoma dust into the air, scattering it across our frozen platform. I ran to her and drew long breaths of her dust deep inside me. I was determined to keep the remains of Sangoma inside me, pumping through my soul. I choked and swallowed as her dust quickly dissipated.

 My torment turned to fury. Laughter rumbled through the sky like thunder. Lightning struck me again and again, and each time I felt it building my strength and change my form. I stood easily on 2 legs. I filled a human form. No longer the form of a servile cat, I stood proud, strong; defiant against my foe.

 I screamed into the darkness, and my voice echoed forth like the dying howls of the tortured and possessed;

The Challenge

 Thunder and lightning I call upon thee

For both are the powers of light

To harness your powers just for me

And share my victory flight.

Light my eyes so that I might see

The enemy I do face.

Give the powers that I decree

To melt the spells that freeze this place.

Open the heaven with radiant light

To blind the warlock's eyes.

The forces of good must prepare to fight

And love will be their prize.

Transform this body from the shape of a cat

To the stature of the Wizard of Light

And cover me with the armour that

Will turn back the evils of the night.

Oh God of love, oh angels’ song

Stand here with me now

For I do stand true and strong

To defy the banshee’s howl.

I challenge this pathetic wizard

To a duel unto the death.

I scorn his companion lizards

And warm their cold blooded breath.

 The War of the Wizards

 Lightning flashed and there he was standing before me like a colossus, draped in a long black cape, his long black hair tossed in the gale-force wind, grey-blue skin, blue lips, and eyes of fire.

 Fire blots burst from Tokoloshe’s eyes as I stood before him, transformed from the cat spell he placed on me. I felt powerful. I knew I was now the Wizard of Light. In my right hand was a 2 metre long sword of lightning, and in the other a diamond-shaped crystal shield, the width and height of my body. I shone like a beacon in the cold darkness of the Mountain of Nightmare.

 Tokoloshe’s blue reptilian tongue flicked in and out of his mouth. I stood defiant, waiting for his first move. His tongue flicked, again and again, then it lashed like the tail of a dragon smashing against my right ankle.

 I fell. The pain was excruciating. It struck me again on the thigh as I struggled to stand and protect myself with my shield. I slashed with my sword but was too slow. His tongue recoiled and flicked at me once more. This time I placed my shield over my fallen body and Tokoloshe’s tongue hissed against the shield like water on red hot coals.

 The reptilian tongue launched at me again. I led with my shield and struck it with my sword. The blue forked tip flew off and flipped about on the stone platform like a fish on a jetty. Black ink like blood oozed from the tongue and surrounded Tokoloshe’s face. A deep growling rumble ran about the sky. The ground trembled and shook.

 Ice like spears shot from his fingertips, knocking me backwards as they bounced off my shield. I struggled to move forward against the barrage in the naive hope of getting close enough to strike Tokoloshe with my sword.

 Fire leap from his eye sockets and enveloped me, sapping the oxygen from my lungs. I struggled to hold my shield up to protect myself from this powerful onslaught. The deep growling rumble of thunder turned to the menacing pitch of snickering Hyenas. I managed to move from the path of the flames, buffeted by gale-force winds I was forced back by an avalanche of icicle spears.

 I brandished my sword to the side of my shield. Lightning bolts leap from the sword and struck the rocks behind Tokoloshe. I thrashed the sword at Tokoloshe and the lightning bolts, hit his left hand. As he recoiled, steam like smoke rose from his arm. He held up his right palm and from it emanated a stream of dark energy. I deflected it with my shield and fired a return volley of lightning. I held my sword to the sky and to my surprise lightning struck all around Tokoloshe, throwing him off balance. I advanced and struck his calf muscle with my sword. His skin sizzled as if being struck with a red hot iron. His skin melted like plastic, oozing a thick ink like substance, then immediately sealed in a rough scar.

 His right arm flung out hitting my shield and knocking me to the ground. His wizard reptile-like flesh sizzled when it struck my shield. A deafening clap of thunder filled the sky and I was tossed about by the sheer force of the wind. I held my sword to the heavens and screamed:

Lightning Spell

 “Clam this sky, calm this storm

Heat the base of this rock platform.

Melt the frozen core of this evil wizard

Silence his thunder and quell his blizzard.

Lightening striking in a constant shower

Sap his strength, destroy his power.

Destroy this wizard, end his evil reign

Destroy him so he’ll never rise again!”

Lightning bolts rained down upon the evil wizard. Some piercing through his colossus frame. His body seemed to melt, each wound weeping, oozing the squid ink black blood of a warlock, then sealing to a scare which resembled badly melted plastic. The sky filled with the screaming howls of tortured souls.

 I struck his right arm with my sword. It fell to the ground flipping and groping across the frozen rock platform. There before my eyes, another arm appeared. Tokoloshe’s face grimaced and fire from his eye sockets enveloped me, forcing me back several metres. My shield buffered me from the worst of his fiery onslaught. A second wall of flames struck and I fell to one knee. The point of my sword pierced the rock as I drove it into the ground for balance and support. My shield slipped to an angle which deflected the wall of flames back onto Tokoloshe.

A bolt of lightning cut across the rock platform floor cutting a deep groove in the rock and melting its icy surface. It ran straight up the length of Tokoloshe’s body and illuminated him in a blue neon flash. Steam and smoke rose from his body as a putrid smell of burning rotten flesh enveloped the platform.

 He staggered backwards, stunned. His right palm fired a stream of dark energy. It struck my shield with tremendous force and blew me off my feet. His dark energy deflected from my shield and struck Tokoloshe on the side of the head. A Hyena’s snickering call echoed across the sky.

 Clambering to get back on my feet I drove my sword into the rock and again a lightning bolt ran across the plateau and streamed up Tokoloshe’s body. Smoke and steam rose from all parts of his body and the rank smell of his burning flesh filled the air. Again and again, I stabbed my sword into the rock until he rose into the air, his injured tongue lashing at me. I raised my sword to the heavens and a shower of lightning rained down upon him. He spun, screaming, and crashed to the rocks.

 Once more I raised my sword and once more a curtain of lightning struck him. I drove my sword into the rock and its lightning power enveloped the evil wizard. He steamed and sizzled, groaned, and then shrank to the size of a mortal.

 Tokoloshe lay motionless in a pool of cold black blood. His eyes were the soft red glow of dying embers, his tongue flayed out in all directions and storms of icicles shot from his hands. I drove my sword into the rock and he was enveloped by its power. The icicles died to a trickle until his palms oozed thick black blood.

 I raised my sword to the heavens and commanded;

“Lightening striking in a constant shower

Sap his strength, destroy his power.

Destroy this wizard, end his evil reign

Destroy him so he’ll never rise again!”

Lightning rained down upon Tokoloshe as he cursed in agony. His face grimaced and snarled at me, his eyes flickered as I plunged my sword deep into his heart. A rope tornado engulfed me and lifted me from the ground. I clung to my sword as the tornado lifted, twisted, and contorted my body. As I spun so too did my sword, twisting and stabbing into the evil wizard’s body. His tongue lashed uncontrollably shredding as it hit my sword and shield. A gruesome inky substance spewed from his mouth.

 As the wind died I gained my footing, raised my sword and with all my might, beheaded the monster. The sky groaned, banshees and Hyenas howled, the mountain shook as Tokoloshe’s head rolled about the rocky platform. His eyes blinked and flashed with fire, his mouth opened and the soft sweet voice of Sagoma murmured from his evil lips....

Love is no more, love is no more...

From the golden dawn to the saffron dusk

Your Love is no more.....

Tears of sorrow and relief fell from my cheeks, and as each one hit the cold stone below a butterfly emerged, arose from the stone, and fluttered into a brightening sky.

Copyright 2022 Craig Buller. All rights reserved. Not to be reprinted or reproduced without the expressed permission of the author.

The Chilly Winds of Change

The old man stood surveying his extensive front yard, his pride and joy; a retirement lifetime of effort. He lent on his rake and breathed in the cool Autumn air. It refreshed his nostrils and acted as a warning sign to say colder mornings and winter are on its way.

“Dunno why yer wastin’ yer time rakin’ the leaves Mr Chelsea, those trees are fulla leaves so yer may as well wait until they all drop orf”, boomed a young voice.

“Morning Jack”, said the old man.” I don’t know why you go to school every day, Jack, when you could just turn up on the last day, read all the books and then sit the exam.”

“Sounds too much like hard work to me”, retorted Jack as he strode off through the park toward the schoolyard.

The old man looked around his garden. “Best get on with it”, he muttered, “there’s a lot to be done before winter sets in”.

Autumn wore on and the old man and the boy chattered to one another most mornings as their paths crossed.

Winter set in, the frost cast its blanket across the old man’s front yard as well as the park pathway young Jack took every morning on his way to school. He noticed that the old man was not in his garden as often, and he missed the opportunity to talk to the old man and generally stir him up and listen to his retorts.

The old man missed the banter also and would quite often peek out of his kitchen window to catch a glimpse of young Jack on his way to school. He’d be rugged up like a knight in armour with his beanie, coat and scarf protecting him from the elements. Head down as he forced his way through the cold southerly winds.

“I ‘aven’t seen you around all that much”, Jack shouted.

 The old man looked up and through his smile said, “Why, have you missed me?”

“Aey?”, was as good a reply as he was going to get, so the old man left it at that.

“Winter is a difficult time for us all”, the old man said. “We all suffer from the short days, the cold weather can isolate us from the world and make us feel alone. A lot of people, and especially gardeners can lose their way during the winter”.  I like to keep my eye on my garden and ensure all is going well, the garden needs to be cared for and to feel its cared for even in its most dormant times.”

Jack looked at the old man with one of those blank looks that only a young person can execute and get away with; “see yer later”, he muttered to ensure his disinterested exit was as polite as possible and headed toward the school yard.

As Jack was on his way to school one morning he noticed Mr Chelsea walking into his front yard ladened with pruning saws, clippers and secateurs. “Gonna chop a few trees about?” he enquired.

“More like a surgeon than a lumberjack” the old man replied, “Spring beckons, Jack, Spring beckons”.

“Wot do yer mean, it’s the middle of winter? came Jack’s puzzled reply.

“It is the middle of winter, and Spring is just around the corner, so we had better get ready for it,” said the old man.

“Like how?” said Jack.

“See those Azalea bushes over there, well I need to shape them for the coming spring so that all the new shoots will give me the shape that I want, and that I get the best flower coverage as possible. And that Nectarine tree, it needs to be pruned to promote new growth so that I get the fruit I want for summer. The new growth will come in the Spring and if I don’t plan and prune for it now it will be too late.”

“And you wont get all those great Nectarines,” Jack interjected.

“Well not only won’t there be enough fruit for you to steal and me to share, the tree won’t be as prepared or as strong to hold the fruit, so without due care we could do the tree more harm than good,” the old man explained.

“Fair dinkum!”, exclaimed Jack, “my Mum said you were a smart gardener, but my Dad reckons anyones' garden would look just as good as yours if you had nothin’ else to do all day”.

“I think both your Mum and Dad are right,” said the old man through a wry smile.

July came and went and the old man and the boy exchanged many an early morning story. Then one windy afternoon in August Jack came across the old man fertilising his garden.

“Jeez it’s windy.” exclaimed the boy.

The old man looked through tired eyes and replied, “Yes; these are the chilly winds of change which we all must endure. These are the winds which blow away the ills of winter and usher in the days of plenty, the warm sunny days of Spring.”

“You’re always talkin’ about yer garden. I jus’ reckon it’s too cold and windy,” he said through a snarly face.

“I understand Jack, but the whole world is a garden, and you tend it, guide it and look after it just as you would a garden like mine. Why Jack you are in the Spring of your life and I am in my Winter. There is a lot of good in Winter but you have to look hard to find it, but for the garden Winter is time to hibernate and get ready for the busy times of Spring and Summer. But something has to herald the change from Winter to Spring because the change is so radical. Anything which heralds such radical change can’t necessarily be pleasant, so you grin and bear it knowing full well that what is to come is better than what you have.”

“Yeah, I s’pose. I thought I heard the bell, see yer later.” The young boy was off across the park wondering why he ever asked the question and the old man watched him reminiscing to himself about all that has gone by and if only he had pruned his life to bear fruit as well as he had pruned his Nectarine tree.

And over and over he repeated a small piece of prose he once read, which simply said, “The daunting August winds of change bring with them the warm sweet aroma of Spring.”

Spring arrived, the Azaleas bloomed and the fruit trees filled with blossoms. Jack stopped most mornings to chat with Mr Chelsea and admire his garden.

The hot still days of summer arrived and the buzz of Cicadas greeted the two friends during their regular morning meetings. Then one morning mid December Jack announced, “Last day of School today Mr Chelsea.”

“So I won’t be seeing you past here for a few months then Jack?

“No I’m off to high school next year Mr Chelsea. I won’t be walking this way anymore, Mum will drop me off at the top of the hill on her way to work. Look after that garden,” he yelled over his shoulder as he ran off to greet his friends waiting in the park.

The old man smiled a smile of happiness and loss like only adults can and went back to watering his garden.