“Mae'r ddraig yn gartref i aros! Mae'r ddraig yn gartref i aros! Mae'r ddraig yn gartref i aros!”
Rhys looked around at them and blushed deeply. He took the helm from his father and fell to his knees again. His father touched his right hand to the top of Rhys’ head and then helped him to his feet.
He said, “Do not be embarrassed by their cries, Son, they are your tenants now, your liegemen. In times of trouble it is they who will surround you and shield you and it is your duty to ensure they are provided for year after year. That justice is done in their lands and peace reigns here continuously.”
“Yes, father,” he replied.
“You are a man now, my son,” he continued, “You have your own home and must now make your own mark on the land as I do and as my brothers do and as your grandfather does.”
Rhys faced the crowd of workers again. He was moved by their eager faces.
“Thank you father and thank you grandfather,” he said, raising the helm high above his head. “You have honored me by presenting me with my own place, my cave. When it is complete it will truly be worthy of a son of the house of Ddraig.”
Applause erupted from all the workmen and maidens that had gathered closer to hear the ceremonial exchange of words between the men. Rhys turned and suddenly embraced his father, wrapping both arms around him tightly and was surprised to feel his father’s strong arms enclose him in their tight circle.
That night, all three men camped beneath the open unfinished ceiling of Rhys’ Great Hall with the eyes of the gods twinkling down at them. There was already no moon in the sky and the lake was as black as the night itself. As he carefully climbed the scaffolding around the main hall staircase, Rhys gazed over the black water with awe. When he got to the first floor landing, he looked out over the lake and imagined the breathtaking reflection that would ripple over its surface during the full moon. His heart sank as he thought of how the moon had reflected on the surface of the Everlasting Pool as he had waited for Naida a few mornings before. Slowly he climbed down and as he nestled into his warm sleeping furs, the vision seemed emblazoned on his minds’ eye.
That night Rhys dreamt of Naida for the first time since he had left Avalon. In his dream, they sat under a flowering apple tree in the gardens of Avalon, sharing their family histories just as they had at the Everlasting Pool a week before. It was night and Naida was talking about her mother and the sad story of how she and her two sisters were the only remaining faery of their line left in Eon. Her face was illuminated by the bright light from a full moon shining in the sky above them. Her violet eyes had welled up but she had allowed only one single tear to spill over before wiping the rest away quickly. Her round face was smooth and white and glowing from the wash of moonlight.
When he woke the next morning, he knew the name of his new home, Itheilwen.
Chapter Three
Earth
As Rhys walked slowly toward the pond, he felt a pang of guilt at sneaking away from the camp at night without an explanation to anyone. He had hastily decided that it would have been too time consuming and knowing his family well, they would not have let him go to Melusina’s Point in peace. All that was best avoided right now. The thought of the fussing he would have to endure in light of the recent attempt on his life erased the guilt immediately. He tied his horse to a tree and caught his bearings quickly before heading up the path which led to the pond. After nearly a half an hour of walking, he arrived at the water’s edge. He paused, listening to the stream and looking around to be sure he was alone. Satisfied, he went to his knees and gazed into the water.
“Why are you late?” a voice demanded.
Rhys stopped dead in his tracks.
“Why are you late?” she repeated. Rhys laughed musically looking around to see where the voice came from. She was nowhere in sight. He answered her anyway.
“You nearly stopped my heart with fright, my lady, would you mind giving me a moment to recover?”
Naida giggled and made a splash in the water. Her image formed clearly once the rippling had stopped. Rhys smiled when he saw her there. He perched at the edge and stared at her as she looked up at him longingly. He couldn’t seem to tire of her smooth round face and her rosebud mouth which seemed permanently pink; but the most striking features were her violet eyes and long waves of flowing yellow hair, absolutely angelic. She was otherworldly, too beautiful to be real. There was a knotted feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thought this. Instinctively, he lowered his eyes as the blush rose in his cheeks.
“Why do you turn away, Sir?” she asked as she stood by the pond’s edge.
“I am happy to see you, my lady. I was not even sure that calling you here would work. Imagine my surprise when I arrive to find you waiting for me.”
“Indeed, my love. Now tell me, where were you, Rhys? I have been waiting for at least an hour,” she pouted. “I thought you would not come to try to call me.”
He turned tentatively to look at her again. Relief at the sight of her dry dress washed his face.
“I almost did not. I thought I must have dreamt all this but the more I deliberated over it, the more real it felt but I had to be sure so I decided to try.”
Rhys felt his cheeks reddening again as he spoke. He lowered his head hoping she wouldn’t see. Naida giggled at his effort. She changed the subject quickly for his sake.
“Was Morgana’s celebration a success?”
His eyes brightened at the turn in conversation.
“Ah yes it was. Everything went perfectly. My uncle and two cousins came to surprise me.”
“Oh, that must have been wonderful. Did they stay long with you in Avalon?”
“No, they returned home with my uncle the same morning that I left. My uncle was sent to Avalon by his father as I had been sent there by mine. I do not think it was something he wanted for his sons, so they stay at home with him. They all live at Camelot.”
His expression turned sullen at this explanation.
“I see.”
For a few moments there was an awkward silence between them. They spent a long while gazing at each other before Naida cleared her throat.
“Tell me all about it, Rhys,” she said matter-of-factly.
“What do you mean?”
“You are obviously distracted. Something is bothering you. So tell me about whatever it is that is on your mind.”
He sighed deeply and stood up from the rock he was sitting on. He started pacing back and forth along the waters’ edge.
“I am perplexed, my lady and these last two days have left me feeling much more so than is usual for me. I find myself rushing from task to task while my mind is wondering elsewhere. It’s a very disconcerting feeling to be more confused than I am accustomed to being.”
“Dilemma, Dilemma. Oh, how your tresses tangle and weave, capturing men with indecisiveness and insecurities.”
“What are you going on about, Naida? I have never heard this quotation before.”
“You have never heard the story of Dilemma? Surely, Murcanthia would have made certain you had a literature teacher who would tell you the myths, legends and stories that have formed the very existence of men.”
“Well, in his defense, Alwen is an excellent teacher. He has successfully managed to steer me clear of utter stupidity so far.”
They laughed overtly with each other for a moment before Rhys’ expression became grim again.
“I will tell you the story of Dilemma then, Sir, considering your extreme case of ignorance.”
Rhys settled down on the grass beside the pond.
“Dilemma was a nymph who was asked by Gaia to choose which flower she would like to be sent to earth as. She had many beautiful blooms to choose from but she also was not the only nymph set to this task by Gaia. Each one chose carefully, some selected flowers which bloomed early and all through the warm months while others choose water flowers or desert flowers. But Dilemma could not make up her mind. Gaia is a very decisive dei
ty and as such she soon lost all patience with her. She placed her in the water and commanded her to stay there forever. She said that since water does not decide where it goes, it follows the moon’s pull at the tide, the lay of the land or the force of gravity, she would never be required to make a decision on her own again. That is why when there is difficulty in making a decision we say we are having a dilemma.”
Rhys stared at her face in awe. He had never heard such a story in his life.
These are probably the things you learn when you live for one hundred and fifty years, he thought.
“Naida?”
“Yes, Rhys.”
She had been watching him as several different expressions had crossed his face. She hadn’t said anything to disturb him because she was sure he was deep in thought.
“You told me you were one hundred and fifty years old, Murcanthia confirmed it. How can you look so young, much more like fifteen years old and live so long, almost twice as long as an incredibly old man.”
Naida smiled and answered, “I will start answering your question with a question, the women’s trick as you called it.”
She gave him a giggle, lowering her eyelids as she laughed. Rhys blushed a deep red when she did this. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Naida tried to hide her face as her cheeks turned a healthy crimson shade. They faced each other smiling again.
“Do you know where I live?” she asked carefully.
“Murcanthia told me about the destruction of Murganth and the split of the faery court. She told me about Arcadia and Eon. She said that you live with Queen Mab in Eon.”
“Yes, I do live in Eon. I am a faery as Murcanthia has no doubt already made clear. That glen in Exmoor is a gateway to my land, a part of Eon that touches Earth. It is a place that exists on sheer magic and because we are intertwined with that magic, the passage of time has a lesser effect on faeries than on humans. We age ten times slower than you do, so I guess I would be fifteen by your standards. When humans come to Eon for extended periods of time they find that they also age slower than they normally would. When a faery stays on Earth for a long time we age faster than we do in Eon.”
“It is similar in Avalon as well,” Rhys interjected, “When humans stay in Avalon, they age slower than usual. I recently got the suspicion that my aunt and others like Murcanthia, who have been there for a long time, are much older in years than they look.”
“Interesting, I didn’t know that Avalon was also a place of tempus incognitum.”
“I wonder what effect Avalon would have on you.”
“That would be fascinating to know.”
“Naida, where exactly is Eon?”
“That is an excellent question, Sir,” she replied, shaking her head. She didn’t know where to start with the answer. “You have mirrors in Avalon, don’t you?” she started.
“Yes, of course we do,” scoffed Rhys.
“Well, in the same way when you look into a mirror and see an image of yourself, Eon is like a mirror image of Earth. It looks exactly the same except for the things that men build for themselves like castles, huts, carts and boats. It is a copy of nature so to speak and the faeries fill it with their own creations like halls, villages and glens. Do you understand?”
“I understand, I think. But that doesn’t explain WHERE it is.” Rhys’ suspense resonated in his voice as annoyance. He winced at the unintentionally harsh tone it took.
“That is true, I apologize. I was trying not to get ahead of myself. I wanted to be sure you understand what I am telling you.”
“I know. I am sorry if I sounded intolerant.”
“It is forgotten. Eon exists exactly as the image in a mirror does. It is parallel to Earth, existing on the same plane, moving on the same path but as two straight lines which never converge. Only those who are faery or are magical in some other way can cross the barrier between the worlds.”
Chapter Four
“Erasmus has left Kenilwurt for Avalon this morning,” Gwallawc informed Rhys, handing him the parchment he had received from the messenger. “He has been summoned by the Three Sisters to begin the preparations to receive your sisters.”
“Oh, it is a shame I could not have seen him off on his journey. It is bound to be a lonely one.” Rhys was more deeply disappointed than he let his father know. Not having the chance to say goodbye to Erasmus meant that it would be a long time before he saw his dear valet and friend again.
“The wagons had been sent back yesterday, so the trip will be faster for him but he will not be alone for long, Son; I have word that he will be escorting Igraine and her court to Avalon. He rode north from Kenilwurt to the Coventry Road then onwards to meet them before they depart from Beormingaham.”
The news made Rhys smile, Erasmus held Igraine in extremely high regard and always spoke endearingly of her.
“Well, he has a noble cause and impeccable company to boot!” They shared a rare but hearty laugh at the comment and his father gave him a pat on the back.
“Father, can I name the estate and house myself or would it be improper to take the town’s name from the structure?” he asked.
“Well, usually the estate and its great hall would take the townships’ name but it is not a steadfast rule. Your uncle’s home at Strut Forth does not bear the town's name as you well know. He called it Avonlea Hall for his wife, your Aunt.” Gwallawc paused for a few moments letting his words hang on the air. “Have you a name for this place, Son?”
“I think so, but I would like to see the work finished before I make the final decision,” Rhys told his father a half-truth to avoid him pressing the matter any further and it seemed to work. “I would like to review the plans at Kenilwurt with you tomorrow. I think I have a few small changes I would like to make.”
“Very well.”
“Son, Grandson!” a voice called to them from above. They both looked up to see Anlawdd descending the hill towards them. It only took him a short while to get to where they were, he was extremely agile for a man of his age.
“Shall we start back?” Anlawdd asked.
“Yes Father,” Gwallawc replied, “I wish to be back in Kenilwurt before luncheon, the Head Tenant is scheduled to consult with me this afternoon.”
“Oh, I had just about forgotten that, Son. Yes, let’s be off then. Are you ready, Rhys?”
“Yes, Sirs, we should leave now.”
The road was dusty but soon the coolness of the Worwick highlands took hold and they donned their warm clothing again piece by piece. The trip was made in haste and in complete silence. It seemed to Rhys that the closer they came to Kenilwurt the colder his father’s demeanor became until he was all and all his usual self again. Rhys made a silent promise to himself that when he moved into Itheilwen he would invite his father there regularly if only to allow Gwallawc a chance to shed his severity for a short time. It would be good for his health.
Eon
Mab was restless in her sleep. She tossed and turned, mumbling incoherently in elvish. She was dreaming and in her dream she saw a boy with milk white skin, the blackest hair and piercing green eyes. He walked through a dense forest with such fervor that it was evident he was searching for something, or somewhere, or someone. A twig snapped underfoot and she saw him stop and turn to look in her direction.
It was at that moment the object in his hand caught her eye. A thin ray of sunlight fighting through the thick canopy caught on it and it glittered wildly. He stretched out his hand offering the shining prize to her. She took a step back and exclaimed loudly. On his outstretched arm, all around the sleeve of his shirt, a thick silver vine had sprouted from the object he held and become entangled; attaching itself to him and it was blooming furiously in white roses. The object in his hand was a silver branch with many perfect silver apples hanging from it.
When she woke, the moon was dark and nothing could be seen from her window, only darkness filled the room. Her chambermaid knocked tentatively at the door and slowly came into the
room. She went directly to the hearth and stoked the fire that had died down there. The rising flames shed some light on the surroundings.
“He is coming,” she whispered.
“Madam?” the maid queried.
“He is coming,” Mab repeated, “Nestaron is coming.”
“Nestaron? But there has not been a “Healer” for centuries, my Lady.”
“Dreams that come when the moon is dark are messages from the cosmos. They are not to be ignored,” she said.
The maid stood motionless with her hand over her mouth waiting for her mistress’s next move but Mab eased herself back onto her pillows and closed her eyes.
“Please Aria, alert Titania’s handmaid to give her lady a message. I wish to see Lady Titania first thing in the morning, even before she breaks her fast. She must come to me in my presence chamber and we will eat together there.”
“Yes Madam.”
Mab drifted back to sleep easily but that did not stop the dream from replaying in her mind for the rest of the night.
She woke early and tended to her toilette without Aria’s assistance. When the handmaid arrived she instructed her to take down her white silk dress. The gown was elegantly cut with wide long sleeves and a full skirt. The bodice was embroidered with thread of gold and trimmed with golden beads and white seed pearls. Aria silently tugged at the strings to fasten the dress closed and laid her lady’s slippers at her feet.
Once dressed, Mab went through to her presence chamber and found Titania seated by the fire awaiting her entry. The warrior faery did not rise but waited for the steward to seat the Queen opposite her at the table. The stewards and handmaids silently left the room and the chamberlains began the meal service. They placed platters of cheese, bread and fruit before them as well as water, nectar and milk and promptly excused themselves from the room.
“What is this I hear about Nestaron’s return, Mab? Is this some sort of farce? Don’t we have enough to worry about with drows and demons passing through Eon to get to Earth and, as I hear it, attacking innocent humans in the dead of night?” Titania asked bluntly.
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