by Bryan Perro
Then, from the east, men arrived. They were powerful warriors, riding big, beautiful horses. They took possession of the land, tilled it and forced the fairies to take refuge in the forest. Some of the fairies befriended the men, but most stayed in the woods and remained isolated. They found several ways to avoid being disturbed by humans. Their kingdoms were secret and often not accessible. They maintained a strict social hierarchy. Like the bees, the fairies had a queen, workers, and warriors.
However, some men worked together with the creatures of the forest. They were called druids. Their task was to protect nature, especially the animals and the forests—the realms of fairies. It was the fairies that decided which humans were capable of becoming druids. They stole babies from their cribs and replaced them with pieces of magic wood that took the shape of the real infants. Parents never suspected anything. These substitute babies seemed quite normal until they died suddenly, for no apparent reason.
Even today, there is a custom that villagers follow. Although most of them do not believe in supernatural beings, they suspend a pair of open scissors above their children’s beds for protection. Since fairies move quickly in the air, the blades will cut them if they try to come close to a crib. Small bells are attached to the clothing of newborn babies, as well as red ribbons and colorful and cumbersome garlands. The jingle of the bells is meant to warn parents if fairies ever try to kidnap a baby. The ribbons and garlands are supposed to hamper their flight.
Amos asked Junos if he knew anything about the tradition of mask wearers. The old man answered that he had heard about a man who had vanquished a dragon all on his own. The man was nicknamed “the bearer,” but the legend did not say anything else.
Worn out, Amos finally fell asleep on the old straw mattress that Junos had placed on the floor. He dreamed of the woman who had given him the rolls and the eggs at the fountain. In his dream, she had become young but still wore her white robe. She kept repeating the same thing to him, “Drive your trident into the stone and open the passage.… Drive your trident into the stone and open the passage.…”
Amos wanted to find out who this woman was. Why was she speaking to him? he wondered. He also wanted to know about the stone and the meaning of the sentence that she repeated. But he was unable to say a word, and the woman in white vanished. Amos woke up and thought about the strange dream for the rest of the night. When Junos got up in the morning, the two companions ate a little and left for Tarkasis.
After a few hours’ walk, Amos and Junos reached the edge of a forest.
“We’ve arrived,” declared the old man. “Yes indeed, it’s here that I used to live. Everything has changed, but there are things that can’t deceive me. For example, those huge rocks right there are the same. And also this oak tree over here. It was already big before I danced with the fairies. Now it’s huge, but it’s the same tree. It must be at least twelve years since I’ve been back. In fact, I’ve never returned since I emerged from the forest looking like an old man. I was eleven years old.”
Junos’s recollections made him sad. As for Amos, he was still thinking about his dream from the previous night. There was something so real about it. Drive your trident into the stone and open the passage. Amos first looked at the ground to try to find a clue. Then he examined the bark of the trees. He also observed the stones around them.
“Take a good look, Junos; everything here indicates a trail,” he said after a long silence. “If you ignore the small shrubs and the ferns and the other small plants, you can see it.”
Paying attention to Amos’s indications, Junos could make out the semblance of a path through the vegetation.
“What you just discovered is impressive, my friend!” said the old man. “Let’s take this trail.”
They followed the trail until gigantic conifers and imposing leafy trees blocked their way. In front of them, the path seemed to end. And on the ground, in the high grass, there was a stone. It bore four distinct marks: the first was a simple hole; right under it were three flat holes close to one another; the third mark was elongated; and the fourth looked like a big fissure.
With the old woman’s words in mind, Amos grabbed his trident and, in one fluid motion, plunged it into the set of three flat holes. Miraculously, the three teeth of the ivory trident fit the three holes perfectly, just as if it had been made expressly for this purpose.
As the trident entered the stone, the dense and impenetrable forest that faced them opened in a thunder of cracking branches and twisting tree trunks. Doubting their own eyes, Amos and Junos saw a long and dark tunnel take shape in front of them. Amos withdrew his weapon; the door that led to the heart of the woods of Tarkasis was now open. Without a word, the two companions started down the path.
After a few minutes, they arrived at a magnificent clearing overflowing with flowers. On the ground, on the rocks, and on the trees that bordered it, flowers were everywhere. Fairies of different colors and shapes were flying in all directions, absorbed in their work. The sun’s rays were blinding, and a brilliant white light inundated the clearing. Seeming to come through the light, a man walked slowly toward them. Amos recognized him. It was the druid he had met in Bratel-la-Grande. He was still dirty and ugly. With the blind cat perched atop his shoulder, he opened his arms.
“Welcome to Gwenfadrille’s kingdom, Mr. Daragon. I see that you come with a friend. Let’s hurry, the great council of fairies is gathered and impatient to meet you.” He looked at Junos and laughed mischievously. “If he wants to, Mr. Junos can accompany you. In fact, I think that he has already met the fairies.”
The druid guided Amos and Junos to the center of the woods of Tarkasis. Seven dolmens marked the limits of a gathering space where a multitude of fairies and druids, who had come from near and far, were seated comfortably on large wooden chairs of unusual shapes. They all applauded when Amos appeared. There were small and large fairies; old, hairy druids as well as young beautiful ones; and some strange, small, wrinkled creatures.
Amos and Junos were invited to sit down at the center of the circle. In front of them, two women were wearing crowns: a robust mermaid with light blue hair and a tall fairy with pointed ears. The two creatures were dazzling to look at. They displayed strength and charisma. The pointed-eared fairy, dressed in green, rose to her feet and requested silence with a gesture of her hand.
“Dear friends, I, Gwenfadrille, queen of the woods of Tarkasis, am happy to welcome you to my home for the revival of the tradition of mask wearers.
“The wearer has been chosen by Crivannia, princess of the waters, to accomplish the mission. Our most ancient druid, Mastagane the Muddy, recognized him as such in Bratel-la-Grande, and so did the Lady in White.” She pointed to Amos. “Amos Daragon, whom we see here, will become the first mask wearer in a new generation of heroes who will restore stability to this world. If anyone is opposed to his selection, let him or her be heard now or be forever silent!”
The assembled council didn’t say a word.
Amos got up. “I’m opposed to this choice!” he said.
A murmur of astonishment rippled through the audience.
“I refuse to serve if I don’t understand what is expected of me,” Amos went on. “I realize that it’s a great honor to be chosen, but I demand to know more about the mission you wish me to undertake, and I want to be told what a mask wearer is.”
A perplexed Gwenfadrille looked at Mastagane the Muddy. “Mastagane, did you not tell him?” she asked.
“Yes, a little, but not all,” the druid mumbled. “I thought that you would explain in more detail. So I did not completely—”
“Are you saying that this boy came all this way without knowing what a mask wearer is?” interrupted the queen, stretching each of her words out.
“I believe that is so,” murmured the druid, looking a little ashamed.
Amos took advantage of the confusion and pulled the white stone out of his pocket.
“I came here first to give you a message, G
wenfadrille,” he said. “Your friend Crivannia, princess of the waters, is dead, and her realm has fallen into the hands of the merriens. Before she died, she asked me to bring this white stone to you and tell you that she had chosen me as the mask wearer. But you seem to already know that.”
“Yes, we know,” admitted the green fairy. “Give me the stone and listen to what I say.
“In ancient times, the world was divided between the sun and the moon, between the creatures of light and the creatures of night. The beings of light represented good, and those of night were the representatives of evil. For centuries, the creatures of the two camps fought deadly battles to ensure the domination on earth of light or of night.
“Tired of these sterile and endless fights, several great kings and queens of both camps decided to meet to try to find a solution. It was necessary to find common ground to restore the peace that everyone wanted. Together they selected humans—the only beings in whom good and evil live jointly—and created the sacred order of the mask wearers. Their task was simple enough: it consisted of working with good and evil, with day and night, to bring balance back into the world. These warriors of equilibrium were given the mission to kill menacing dragons, to calm the ardor of the unicorns, and to reunite the realms that war had divided. These men derived their power from the magic of the elements. Each of them had four masks: that of air, fire, earth, and water. On each of these masks, four power stones were inlaid. Four white stones for air, four blue ones for water, four red ones for fire, and four black ones for earth. Sixteen power stones altogether.
“These warriors succeeded in their mission, and for many years, good and evil existed together in harmony. An eternal peace had been reached, and the mask wearers were not replaced. They discarded their masks and the power stones were shared between the forces of day and night. But recently the night creatures have taken up their arms again. The attack by the merriens against the mermaids is the very proof of that. This is why we wish to revive the order of the mask wearers.”
Amos remained silent for a moment, then he asked, “Earlier you mentioned a lady in white. Twice I’ve seen this woman. Who is she exactly?”
“She is a powerful spirit,” explained Gwenfadrille. “She is the conscience that guides the warriors of equilibrium. The Lady in White sponsors each of the mask wearers. She’ll protect you and show you the way. Today, if you accept the destiny that we envision for you, I’ll give you your first mask—that of air. In it, I’ll set the white stone that you brought to me, and the powers of this ancient object will be reborn. You will have to find the three other masks and the fifteen missing stones. The more masks you possess, the greater your power will be, and the better your control of the elements. Do you accept our offer, Amos?”
Amos thought it over. A deep silence surrounded him. The fairies were holding their breath; they did not move. The druids started to stamp their feet impatiently. And the new princess of the waters, the blue-haired mermaid, was wondering if Crivannia had made the right choice when she selected this boy.
Amos got up again. “I accept, under one condition!” he said.
“This is most unusual,” said Gwenfadrille. “But go ahead, we’re listening.”
“I want the fairies to give back to my friend Junos the childhood they stole from him. I want him to return to his family, where he’ll help his father with the vegetable garden, and where he’ll eat his mother’s delicious pancakes. He must also get his dog back.”
Right away, the queen of the fairies answered. “Your request is granted. My fairies will take Junos back to the home of his youth, where he’ll find himself exactly at the age he was when he fell under our spell.”
Junos burst into tears. “Amos Daragon has kept his promise,” he cried with joy. “I’ll get my childhood back! I’ll see my dog again! And my father! And my mother! Thank you! Thank you, my friend! Thank you with all my heart!”
As he let himself be escorted away by a group of fairies, the old man turned toward Amos.
“I’ll pay you back a hundred times for what you just did for me. I swear it on my life, on my soul, and on my parents’ heads. See you soon, my friend!”
Very solemnly, Gwenfadrille picked up a magnificent crystal mask that was by her side. It had the shape of a fine-featured man with a bulging forehead. She handed it to Amos and asked him to try it on. The mask adjusted itself perfectly to Amos’s face. The fairy then set into it the white power stone sent by Crivannia. Amos got the immediate impression that he was breathing in rhythm with the wind.
“This mask will grow with you,” the queen of the fairies declared. “It is your property and your dearest possession. You’ll discover its powers on your own. It’s not very potent yet, but when the four stones are set into it, you’ll have the ability to raise a hurricane and the strength necessary to walk on air. Now let us all pay homage to Amos Daragon and feast in honor of the first human in the second generation of the warriors of equilibrium!”
Everyone present stood up and applauded. Then a joyous music was heard.
—12—
BEORF AND MEDUSA
Karmakas had installed himself in the castle at Bratel-la-Grande. With the gorgons’ help, he had placed all the villagers—more than one thousand statues—outside the city gates. They were displayed along both sides of the road leading to the capital. The scene was terrifying. Itinerant merchants, travelers, adventurers, and troubadours refused to come close to the city. Everyone who saw the ghastly statues doubled back, vowing never again to set foot in that part of the country.
The gorgons had ransacked the town. Houses were entirely demolished or burned to the ground. A deadly silence had replaced the shouts of children heard in happier days. There was no sign of life—no flowers in bloom and no human activity. Yaune the Purifier’s army had been totally defeated. A black flag in the shape of a snake, its mouth open as if ready to strike, flew over the city. The water from the river had been poisoned, the fields were fallow, and the birds had deserted the area.
Karmakas’s powerful magic had enabled him to double his army of gorgons. The city was swarming with snakes. Cockroaches, the gorgons’ food of choice, crawled over the walls of the castle, into the ruins of houses, and everywhere over the ramparts of Bratel-la-Grande.
For the last three days, Beorf had been buried up to his neck, and had been suffering terrible agonies. He had been blindfolded so that the stare of the gorgons would not petrify him. At night, the monsters often walked over his head and deprived him of sleep. During the day, the sun scorched his face. And every morning, the naga came to visit him. Karmakas was aware of the humanimal’s weak spot. He knew that bear-men had unmatched strength and physical endurance. The only thing they could not tolerate was going hungry. So every morning Karmakas tantalized Beorf with bread and honey.
“If you tell me where the pendant is, I’ll give you, ssss, all the food you want,” the sorcerer said. “Tell me where the pendant is and we’ll, ssss, become a team. I know that, ssss, you’re hungry. Talk to me, ssss, tell me, ssss, where my precious pendant is hidden.”
Blindfolded, Beorf smelled the fragrance of fresh bread. He imagined the taste of honey on his tongue. His stomach churned with hunger and his whole body begged for food. His taste buds filled his mouth with saliva. Every morning, the torture weakened his will a little more.
“I’ll never tell you! I’ll die before you get any information out of me,” Beorf answered day after day.
Frustrated, the naga always left hissing with rage. Toward the end of the fifth day, Beorf was so exhausted by the pain in his stomach that he wondered if he could hold out any longer.
“Have no fear, I’m here to help you,” the voice of a young girl whispered in his ear.
Beorf could feel hands digging around him to remove the dirt. The girl freed him and helped him up.
“I have to warn you that I’m a gorgon. Be very careful never to look into my eyes or you’ll straightaway turn into a statue,” she warn
ed him. “To make it safer for you, I’m wearing a cloak with a hood that covers my eyes. Now I’ll remove your blindfold.”
Stunned, Beorf opened his eyes and saw the lower half of the gorgon’s face. She was lovely and had a beautiful mouth. Her lips were brown and lush. A few golden-colored snake heads that did not seem to be malicious were sticking out of her hood, moving the fabric gently. Her skin was a pale green.
“Come, we have to flee this place before the sorcerer catches us,” she said, extending her hand to him. “Do you know how to get out of this city without going through the main gate?”
“Yes, I know a way,” said Beorf. “Follow me!”
Together they made their way to the tunnel that Beorf had dug under one of the city walls. They fled quickly and reached the forest without any problem. Beorf led the young gorgon to a cavern that his parents had always used as a pantry. There, the humanimal plunged headfirst into the food rations, stuffing himself with dried fruit, nuts, honey, grains, and salted meat. Once he was full, Beorf remembered his manners and offered the gorgon something to eat.
“Thank you,” said the girl. “I don’t eat this kind of food. I only devour insects. I love roaches cooked in toad blood. Delicious! Since you love good food, you should try my recipe sometime.”
Beorf felt a little disgusted. His cheeks were pink again and he now felt restored. His body was loosening up after his ordeal, and he was unable to control a noisy, long burp. The young gorgon laughed a crystal-like giggle. Beorf couldn’t imagine that this charming creature could be the offspring of such a horrible race. He apologized for his burp.