Merlin: The Book of Magic
Page 8
Museo
Riding atop the head of the bard Olewyn, a museo is hidden under the bard's lopsided hat . . . until the time comes to sing. Then this small teardrop-shaped creature shows itself—more by its sound than its appearance. For like the others of its kind, the museo can sing with a rolling, layered hum that can entrance any listener. This rich hum contains many emotions, profoundly affecting anyone nearby. As the saying goes, "nothing is so deep as the note from a museo's throat."
Although museos can be any shade of blue or green, their skin is always flecked with gold. They are neither male nor female, but both at once. Museos have always been rare, even in their native land of Shadowroot. Centuries ago, they were driven out of the realm of eternal night. Since that time, they have wandered Avalon's other root-realms with their chosen bards—always searching for the home they cannot find, always singing about the home they cannot forget.
Neh Gawthrech
Changelings are feared throughout Avalon—but no changeling is feared more than Neh Gawthrech. Known for the completeness of his disguises and the swiftness of his attacks, he changes so quickly that any witnesses see only a blur of claws, fangs, and the victim's blood. It is rumored that this changeling's true head is triangular in shape, with fangs that curl like scythes and scarlet eyes aflame with wrath. Last seen near the caves of the wyverns near the Wasteland of the Withered Spring in Stoneroot, he may have formed an alliance with the sorcerer Kulwych.
Nuic
This ancient pinnacle sprite from Avalon's high peaks in Olanabram is small enough to ride on Elli's shoulder. Yet just as his gruff, crusty manner conceals deeper emotions, his diminutive form conceals enormous wisdom and experience. Like all pinnacle sprites, he can produce a net of gleaming silver threads that serves as a parachute to float him down from cliffs. But his favorite pastime is more stationary: Nuic loves nothing more than to bathe relaxedly in a mountain stream, kicking his tiny feet in the water. An expert herbalist, he often forages for vegetarian foods and herbal remedies—then takes a long, cool soak afterward.
Precisely how old he is remains a mystery, though pinnacle sprites (like giants and dragons) can live for over a thousand years. The only mortal creatures who can live longer are wizards. Thus Nuic had many adventures before he became Elli's maryth. He became a valued friend of the Lady of the Lake. He was one of the first to cross the famous Misty Bridge of Y Swylarna. And he even attended the wedding of Merlin and Hallia, which took place atop the highest peak in the Seven Realms, in the Year of Avalon 27.
While Nuic's liquid purple eyes and green hair are striking, his most remarkable colors are those displayed by his skin, for they reveal his emotions. His skin fairly vibrates with colors, often in combination: orange for impatience, gray for somberness or gravity, red for anger, yellow for hunger, misty blue for contentment, and deep purple for pride. Two colors signify emotions so rare for Nuic that Elli was quite surprised when she noticed them—frosty white for terror, and flashing gold for amazement. And then, as she later discovered, there is one color even rarer: lavender, for pure affection.
Obba and Ossyn
Combined, the mental capacities of these two brothers equaled that of one barely functional imbecile. And their stupidity was exceeded only by their cruelty. Obba and Ossyn were hired by the sorcerer Kulwych, whom they called White Hands, in Avalon 's long-dreaded Year of Darkness. Their task: to find the child who was the true heir of Merlin. For that reason they traveled to the Volcano Lands of Rahnawyn . . . and to the nest of a fledgling eagleboy named Scree.
Ogallad the Worthy
Ogallad was the first great leader of the Ayanowyn people, the fire angels. Crowned by a golden wreath of mistletoe, a gift from the spirit lord Dagda himself, he led his people down from the stars long ago, in the days before storypainters began to record the fire angels' lives. Ogallad led the Ayanowyn to the Middle Realm of the Great Tree of Avalon—just as he led them to their age of wisdom and glory, the Age of Great Light known as Lumaria col Lir. Today, Ogallad's memory flames bright in the minds of Gwirion, Fraitha, Tulchinne, and Ciann—just as it did for the seer Mananaun and the blind bard Helvin. For that memory offers a hint of hope that those days of Great Light might somehow come again.
Olewyn the Bard
This strange old bard has a knack for appearing in the most unexpected places around Avalon. He looks bizarre, even comical, with a sideways-growing beard, a lopsided hat that conceals a genuine museo, and dark eyes that seem both very young and very old. Yet despite his appearance, quirky manner, and jaunty walk, there is something hauntingly serious about him. His name, Olewyn, is reminiscent of the legendary mer woman Olwen, who dared to leave her people and her ancestral home to wed Tuatha of Lost Fincayra. But that similarity could be just a coincidence: His name, like so much else about the bard, simply defies explanation.
Palimyst
… Palimyst was gigantic, standing twice Tamwyn's height.
Palimyst belonged to the Taliwonn people, the most remarkable creatures of the branch-realm Holosarr—and maybe of any realm in Avalon. When Tamwyn first met Palimyst, he realized that he must seem as strange to this creature as the creature seemed to him. (In fact, the name Holosarr was the Taliwonn word for lowest realm, since they had explored the higher branches of the Great Tree but remained completely unaware of the root-realms below.) Like the rest of his people, Palimyst was gigantic, standing twice Tamwyn's height. He had two brawny arms, a hunched and hairy back, and a single leg as thick as a tree trunk. By contrast, at the end of each arm was a hand with seven long, delicate fingers, which Palimyst used for fine craftsmanship. His eyes were dark and intelligent, and he was quick to perceive the hope—as well as the heroic qualities—in Tamwyn. It was he who told the young man about the fabled River of Time, "the seam in the tent of the sky."
As a craftsman and collector, Palimyst lived in a tent of his own making. There he displayed objects that he had woven, carved, and sculpted. As varied as they were, those objects shared one fundamental virtue: All were made from natural materials shaped by mortal hands. Thus, as Palimyst explained, "they hold both the beauty of nature and the beauty of craftsmanship."
Tamwyn witnessed the strange, silent dance of Palimyst's people. They clasped their slender hands and formed a circle, hopping and bowing in unison. Despite their great size and their need to balance on one leg, they moved with all the fluidity of blowing clouds. And so, like everything else about these creatures, their dance was rich in remarkable contrasts.
Pwyll the Younger
Pwyll the Younger followed the path of his father, the poet Pwyll the Elder, and became one of the most famous bards in history. His songs and poems are as beloved by the people of Avalon as Cairpré's were by the people of Fincayra. Particularly powerful were his ballads about human fallibilities: greed, arrogance, and intolerance. In contrast to his contemporary, Willenia, he held a dismal view of humanity, far more tragic than triumphant.
Quenaykha (Queen)
As the ruthless ruler of the Bram Kaie eaglefolk in Fireroot's Volcano Lands, she preferred to be called simply "Queen." Under her leadership, the clan survived its most difficult time—but only by turning to thievery and murder. Discarding the eaglefolk's long-standing traditions of honor, this renegade group began to attack and pillage other clans. Instead of relying on their speed and talons in battle, the Bram Kaie used heavy wooden bows and arrows. The mere sight of their black-tipped wings and red leg bands was enough to prompt screeches of fear and outrage—as Scree witnessed during the attack that killed the healer Arc-kaya. And those screeches would have been louder still if people knew that Quenaykha had forged an alliance with the sorcerer Kulwych, who served Rhita Gawr.
But there was another side of Queen. It wasn't known by her followers, nor even her chief lieutenants Cuttayka and Maulkee. No, this side of her was known by only one person: Scree. For he had met her long ago, when she was still innocent enough to find joy in the sight of firebloom—the realm's only
flower, whose orange petals resemble tiny feathers. Or was that only an act, a ploy to lure Scree into danger? Although he couldn't be sure of the truth, Scree concluded that he needed to do everything possible to stop the Bram Kaie's murderous ways. And so he decided to travel to their remote nests and challenge Queen for leadership of the clan. Even so, he had no idea what surprises—and trials—awaited him.
Ruthyn
No priestess in the Society of the Whole ever had a greater passion for the stars. She studied them day and night. Only High Priestess Coerria knew that Ruthyn's mother was one of the brave explorers who had joined Krystallus Eopia on his ill-fated journey to the uppermost reaches of Avalon—a journey from which no one returned. Whether she was searching for some sign of her lost mother, or simply for knowledge, Ruthyn became one of Avalon's experts on the history and lore of the constellations. But she, like everyone else, remained baffled by the enduring mystery of the stars' true nature.
Scree
"Bold" and "decisive" are often used to describe the eaglefolk—and they certainly describe Scree. Like the great flyers Hac Yarrow and Ilyakk before him, Scree was a daring master of the sky. Yet down inside, he always felt tormented by doubts about his capabilities and his true purpose in life. Born in a nest on the flaming cliffs of Fireroot, he knew only briefly the touch of his mother before she was murdered by men hired by the sorcerer Kulwych to find the true heir of Merlin. Scree was, on that night, too young to change at will into eagle form. So he could not yet sprout enormous wings from his human arms—wings with row upon row of feathers, entirely silver but for their tips as red as the volcanic fires of that realm. But he was not too young to remember every single word of his conversation with the mysterious old man who rescued him, along with Tamwyn and Halona. In the years to come, Scree would often reflect on what the old man had told him about the Dark Prophecy, the future of Avalon, and the precious staff of Merlin.
When in human form, Scree retained the hooked nose and pointed toenails characteristic of all eaglefolk, as well as large, yellow-rimmed eyes that could see with amazing clarity over vast distances. Yet his broad, muscular shoulders gave only a hint of his true potential. He could change instantly into eagle form, soar high among the clouds, and swoop down on a foe with ease, wielding his talons as an expert swordsman would wield his blades. When this winged warrior dived downward, he released a loud cry, part eagle and part human, that made most creatures run and hide. For that reason, he was greatly surprised by the elf maiden Brionna. She not only remained in place as he plunged toward her—but released an arrow that shot him out of the sky.
Scree's future remained as hard to read as the vaguely glowing runes on the staff that he once promised to protect. To find his way—and also to help Tamwyn, the young man he called "little brother"—he needed to discover the truth about his own past. That journey would lead him to confront the treacherous Quenaykha . . . as well as his own wounds that lay deeper than a talon's gash.
Serella
Even as a child near the headwaters of the River Relentless in El Urien, the elf Serella showed a strong penchant for exploring. At the age of two, she spent most of a summer stealthily watching a family of wyverns and learning their habits. (This was not easy, since one of their favorite habits was breathing fire on any living creatures they could find.) When Serella was seven years old, she built a small raft, packed her supplies, and floated down the river for a monthlong adventure. As worried as her parents were during her absence, when she finally returned unharmed, they recognized that she had shown remarkable courage and resilience. Rather than try to stop her from further explorations, they instead found expert tutors who trained her in wilderness traveling, mapmaking, and communicating in diverse languages. Their confidence in Serella proved to be well-founded, for in the Year of Avalon 51, she discovered a magical portal in eastern Woodroot.
Over time, Serella mastered the dangerous art of portalseeking, becoming the first mortal to survive such journeys through the inner pathways of the Great Tree. So strong were her leadership skills that she amassed many followers among the wood elves, who ultimately proclaimed her their queen. After deepening her knowledge of travel by portals, she led several expeditions to other parts of Avalon, including repeated journeys to Waterroot. These journeys culminated in the founding of Caer Serella, the first colony of elves in Waterroot, at a bay on the Rainbow Seas. Thus the society of water elves was born. In honor of Serella, and in memory of their origins, the water elves made their symbol a rainbow-colored wave encircled in forest green. Even today, that emblem graces the sails of all elven ships.
Serella continued her travels through portals, as did her fellow explorer, Krystallus. Although they spent many years as bitter rivals, a surprising turn of events brought them together as lovers. Often in the years to come, they could be found climbing sheer cliffs or trekking through uncharted forests—still competing with each other, but also enjoying their rich companionship. When, at last, Serella decided to return to Shadowroot to find the origin of the terrible disease darkdeath, Krystallus tried hard to dissuade her. But she went anyway. And when she did not return, he searched for her without success, ceasing only when she came to him in a dream and declared, "Explore the world while still you can! For that is the purpose of life and the reason for breath."
Society of the Whole
… The supreme moral authority for Avalon's peoples.
Founded in the earliest days of Avalon, the world-tree that sprouted from Merlin's magical seed, the Society of the Whole became the supreme moral authority for Avalon's peoples. Under the guidance of Elen and her daughter, Rhiannon, the Society developed two basic principles: first, that all creatures should live together in harmony and mutual respect, and second, that everyone should help to protect the Great Tree that supported all forms of life. The new faith focused on seven Elements—what Elen called "the seven sacred parts that together make the Whole"—Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Life, LightDark, and Mystery.
With help from the great spirit Dagda (and several giants, led by Merlin's friend Shim), Elen and Rhia journeyed to Lost Fincayra to find the great circle of stones that was the site of the famous Dance of the Giants. Together, they transported the sacred stones all the way back to their compound in Avalon, and rebuilt the circle as their Great Temple. Soon thereafter, the Drumadians—as Elen called members of the Society, in honor of Fincayra's Druma Wood—ordained their first priestesses and priests. They included Lleu of the One Ear, whose scholarly bent would lead him to write the Drumadians' classic text; Cwen, the last of the treelings; and (to the outright amazement of many) the warrior Babd Catha, the Ogres' Bane. Traditions flourished, and for centuries the Society thrived. The faith became as vibrant as the compound's many gardens and as solid as the famous Buckle Bell (which had been made from the belt buckle of a giant, melted down by the breath of a fire dragon, molded into shape by dwarves, and exquisitely decorated by faery artisans—as a symbol of unity and cooperation among Avalon's creatures). The Drumadians' most famous tradition involved maryths, lifelong friends of every priestess and priest who could be any kind of creature except human.
In time, though, the Society strayed from its ideals. Concerned with its own stature and power, it grew arrogant and rigid. This led to the abrupt departure of Rhia, who had succeeded her mother as High Priestess, in the Year of Avalon 413. By the time Coerria donned the silken gown of the High Priestess (a gown made originally for Elen by the Grand Elusa), the Society's troubles rivaled Avalon's. Indeed, the Society's very survival would require the courage, wisdom, and sacrifice of many—including Coerria, the tree spirit Fairlyn, the crusty old sprite Nuic, the star watcher Ruthyn, the priest Lleu, the hive spirit Uzzzula, and even the mysterious Lady of the Lake. But none of the Society's allies would play a more crucial role than a young apprentice third class named Elliryanna.
Tamwyn Eopia
His name means dark flame—fitting for someone born in Avalon's realm of Fireroot, the son of the
flamelon princess Halona and the human explorer Krystallus, in the Year of Avalon 985—the Year of Darkness that many feared would usher in the dreaded child of the Dark Prophecy. Even Tamwyn wondered which would be his true destiny: the dark or the light. Soon after his birth, flamelons attacked the family out of prejudice against people who mixed races. Krystallus survived, but believed that his wife and child had died. And so, filled with grief, he embarked upon the most dangerous expedition of his long life—to find a pathway to the stars. Halona and Tamwyn had actually escaped and hidden themselves in the Volcano Lands. When a strange encounter with a wondrous old man brought him together with an orphaned eagleboy, Scree, Tamwyn gained an adopted brother. Even in the years before Halona died in an attack by ghoulacas, the two boys were inseparable—until Tamwyn, at the age of ten, abruptly traveled by portal to the distant realm of Stoneroot. For seven years he searched for his lost brother, working as a wilderness guide and laborer, always keeping his age a secret because of the rampant fear of anyone who might be the child of the Dark Prophecy.
Though he was terribly clumsy, Tamwyn dreamed of becoming a great explorer. He longed to voyage all the way to the stars—to run among them, as if they were a radiant field. For ever since he could remember, he loved to run—losing his clumsiness in fluid motion that seemed almost as graceful as the bounding of a deer. Yet until he met the mysterious Lady of the Lake, he had no idea that this ability was the gift of his grandmother, Hallia, the deer woman of Fincayra who married the wizard Merlin in the earliest days of Avalon. Even then, Tamwyn suspected that he was more likely to be the child of the Dark Prophecy than the true heir of Merlin.