REALM'S END (BOOK OF FEY 1)

by Jules Hancock

  “I remember it all so clearly, as if it were only yesterday. How the grizzled old tree rose up, his voice cutting through the sky rumbling.” He said, “Lillith, the council and I have come to you many times, spoken with you many times over your unseemly behavior. We have watched over you all your lifetime hoping this day would never come, but come it has, and the council has no choice now but to condemn you child, as a traitor to the Realm. What do you have to say in your defense?”

  Lillith continued. “I was stunned as you can imagine. I couldn’t understand what was being said, and found it impossible to speak. I just laid there struck dumb listening to the trees muttering to one another. My fear however did eventually give way to anger and my natural forcefulness flared up and I used it to rise up and step forward, though I was trembling and could not have trusted my wings to carry me anywhere at that moment. I set my eyes on the foremost elder as I spoke. “Who has given this lie as truth? I am no traitor to the Realm!”

  “You girl, with those red locks,” his voice shrieked, as he pointed at me with his branched and gnarled hand. “You are your own accuser!”

  “I wanted to laugh about my red stained hair, but I could say nothing. I looked from face to face, but all of the elders’ faces were hardened against me. I remember the people of the tribes anxiously watching, for they clearly knew nothing more than I did about my being a traitor, even my young friend Briok’s face held a look of shock. Nothing like this had happened in our memories of the Realm. Thankfully, one of the ancients broke the charged silence.”

  A great friendly Willow pushed past the other elders and stepped into the clearing. “Lillith, long ago a council of all beings of the realm of time was called together. That council was charged to watch for any event that would change our world, particularly the birth of the one who would bring an end to our world. Nothing happened for many millennia but when you were born child, the stone people’s sage prophesized that you were, perhaps, that one. The sage a traveler herself; had discovered a story of the end of our realm in a different timeline. It was the story of the red-haired one’s coming. Many of us had our doubts, for you are fair-haired, but now this has happened and it brings up again the story we were all told long ago. The duty of the ancient ones has always been clear, to watch for that child’s coming and prevent the end of our world, if it’s at all possible. None of us charged with this duty have ever forgotten that prediction:

  Hark and beware

  for hair like blood

  bears the end near

  by her hand

  we need fear

  the land shakes

  the seal breaks

  The Realm will be lost

  evermore.

  “Since you were born we have watched you grow, hoping the stone sage was wrong. Many times you have made us very proud. You are fair and honest and loyal to your friends and honor all the tribes who call this world home. But today when we saw you rub the fruit into your hair we realized the truth. It saddens our hearts greatly, but our duty is first to the good of the Realm. Understand we were sworn to that duty long ago. Our world, Lillith, rules time for all the worlds, if our world falls, others will follow.” After the Willow finished talking, she stood up and moved back to the crowd.

  Then the Cedar rose up to his incredible height and his voice rang out through the crowd. “Lillith, daughter of Aine and Coron of the birth tribe of Fey, we expose you as the traitor, who would rob the world of time. For this we must condemn you. From this day forth your name shall be struck from the book of children of the Realm and you will be imprisoned within the Great Rowan tree. You will serve her for all eternity, you will know nothing else, and the Rowan shall guard you till eternity fades away. You will live, in a manner of speaking, but you will be kept from doing any harm to the Realm.”

  “My scream cut through the darkness just as the clouds above broke open and water poured from the heavens, and then I knew no more for a very long time,” Lillith said, to the gathered listeners.

  Scotland 1753

  “Come on girl; get your lazy self-up! Get out of bed. We’ve got wash to do.” The woman shook the sleeping girl’s shoulder, hard.

  Gwenth rolled over and lifted her head blurrily looking up at her step-mother. “Ma never started the wash till after breakfast,” she groaned.

  “So you’ve told me before,” Meredith said. She moved about, stripping the girl’s bed around her.

  “Can’t you just wait a minute,” Gwenth asked? Exasperation dripped from her voice.

  Meredith left off pulling the rough cover loose, and stood up to her full height. “Fine, you can bring these out with you, but don’t you dare dawdle,” she hissed. She turned and left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

  Gwenth lay still, holding her breath as she waited to hear the bang of the front door. It was a cruel joke to be woken from such a pleasant dream, only to find herself back here with her step-mother. Sighing, she angrily flung what was left of her covers off and stood up. Dressing quickly, Gwenth pulled on her only pair of clean muslin drawers and thick wool skirt. Next she donned a woolen undershirt and a second woolen blouse to protect against the cold dampness of the day. Hot with anger, her cheeks nearly glowed red, as she hurried to finish dressing. Gwenth pulled her tawny red hair back and quickly braided it, and tied the end off, with a bit of flax string. Lastly she shoved her feet into her warm sheep-lined leather boots and hurriedly tied the worn cords about them.

  Bending over, she pulled the rest of the bedding loose letting the straw ticking lay open to air. Gwenth gathered the bundle of laundry and hurried out of her bedroom into the main room of the cottage. She stopped momentarily at the cottage’s only table, and pulling away the stitched towel from the red clay bowl she reached in and took out two biscuits. She carefully slipped them into her pocket before she drew her wool coat on. Then lifting the latch she pulled the door open, and pushed the laundry through the door ahead of her. Sighing, she pulled the door shut as she stepped out into the damp morning air.

  Gwenth stopped, taking a moment to look about the cottage yard. She loved her family’s croft. She loved the way the land folded itself over and over all the way to the sea that lay far below. Gwenth liked to stand here breathing in the crisp air, she even liked the damp rainy days. She loved to watch the sheep as they made their way across the heather-covered hills, and nothing felt better than slowly tramping along behind the flock as it crisscrossed the highland hills. Her father understood this and in the past had often sent her out to watch over the flock. Her mother had understood this too. Since her mother’s death and her father’s remarriage, things had changed and not for the best, as far as she was concerned. Her step-mother, the indomitable Meredith clearly hated Gwenth, which was fine with Gwenth, as she hated her step-mother, too. Meredith always seemed to be pushing at her to change. She demanded Gwenth do more of the women’s work around the cottage and stay away from the moors. Meredith was always pointing out Gwenth’s faults. So what if she wasn’t a good seamstress, she didn’t care about sewing. She wanted to be with her Da and the sheep, out on the heather, breathing in the fresh sea air. Gwenth suddenly realized she was dawdling; she turned and made her way down the hillside. The morning was cool but she could see from the clear sky it really was a fine day for laundry. The breeze was brisk, so things would dry quickly too. As she made her way across the trampled grasses, shorn short by the flock, she could see clearly the large pot of lye water hanging over the fire. Today she didn’t stop to watch the water as was her usual way, but even so she noticed the sea was swollen, the water rising up in tall white peaks. Turning toward the wind-break Gwenth grimly marched, to where Meredith stood pushing sheets into the steaming water.

  Suddenly Gwenth rushed forward, dropping her sheets in the dirt as she ran. “Where did you get this stick?” Reaching over, Gwenth yanked the thick tree branch free from Meredith’s hand, effectively throwing the older woman off balance.

  Meredith righted hersel
f, and reached up to tuck the loose strands of her raven-colored hair back into its tight nest like bun. Leaning down she grabbed the trailing end of the bed sheet as it dangled dangerously near the burning peat fire. Meredith picked up the bundle of Gwenth’s fallen sheets and pushed them backward, farther away from the flames. “What has gotten into you girl?”

  “Why do you always assume it’s my fault? Why aren’t you using the paddle Da cut for you? No, instead you take my walking stick from under the eave to use for the wash. Can’t I even have a simple stick for my own?”

  Turning on the girl, Meredith felt her anger peak, and she loomed up over the girl. “Someone broke the paddle, or did you forget? I asked your da to leave a stick for me under the eave. Of course I had no idea your highness had taken a stick of her own, as well.” Meredith mock bowed to the young woman. “If you want this branch, fine, then go fetch me the other one. Now!”

  Gwenth shrunk back, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she was reminded once again of how Meredith seemed always to tower over her during their many disagreements. Glad that she had a moment to regain her courage, she carried the saved branch and trudged back to the house, where she leaned the branch against the stone wall, under the grass eave of the cottage. Steeling herself against her rising sense of fear she forced herself to pick up the other branch and carry it back down to where Meredith stood impatiently waiting.

  Meredith sniffed huffily as she took the proffered stick and looked it over. “I can’t see any difference between this stick and the other one. If you want that particular bit of wood take it, but you better put it somewhere safe,” Meredith said angrily. “I fear that if you leave it out under the eave it may accidently end up in the fire.” Meredith reached out and snaked her long fingers around Gwenth’s wrist. Jerking the girl hard, she dragged her in close. Her grip was strong and she held Gwenth fast.

  “Stop it. You’re hurting me,” Gwenth cried out trying to pull away.

  Meredith only laughed and drew Gwenth in close enough to whisper to her. Meredith’s black pupils seemed to fill the space between them, her eyes swirling with images of death. Gwenth found herself being forced to return Meredith’s hard stare. “Now you listen to me, I’m tired of your disrespect,” Meredith said, giving Gwenth a teeth rattling shake. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be more careful with the laundry in the future. If not, I will break that pretty stick of yours over your back.” Meredith hissed. Meredith released Gwenth from her grip and pushed the girl away. “Now, I’m going for a walk, you can finish the laundry by yourself,” Meredith said. Casually she brushed off her skirt, as she turned and walked away toward the cliff.

  Gwenth stood for a long time staring after Meredith. Her step-mother frightened her deeply. She shuttered with awareness. She was sure there had been something there, some frightening thing when Meredith held her close. Something she had seen in her eyes. Finally, she shook her head, letting go of the lost image. Sighing, yet again, she picked up the stick and began to stir the laundry filled pot.

  Shape shifting

  As her steps carried her further from the cottage, Meredith let her mind wonder over the last six months. Never had she expected to be away from her own home for so long, nor had she expected things to become so embroiled with her charge and the girl’s father. Meredith walked along the hill side until she came to a fork in the trail; here the trail wound its way down towards the sea or up and away toward the headlands. Meredith stopped and stared at a patch of dark water that lay far out to sea. Finally, she turned away and followed the trail upward. Nothing had unfolded as she had hoped. The child was asleep to her true nature and the man whom she now called husband; well that was a fine mess as well, wasn’t it. A long sigh escaped her downturned mouth. She tried to shake off the troubling feelings. She needed to clear her head, to clear out the confusion. She made her way slowly over the undulating ground toward the beach head. Here, set back from the edge of the cliff stood an old stone wall partially exposed, rising out of the rocky soil.

  On the wall two crows stood cawing as she walked up.

  “Never mind, I was not too rough on her,” Meredith said, addressing the first crow. The bird flapped its wings and lifted its unnaturally rotund body briefly off the stone wall, before settling back down, its raspy voice cawing out through it all. “No don’t argue with me,” Meredith said, shaking her finger at the bird. “Remember we agreed the sister that took on this task would make the decisions as she saw fit, without everyone else trying to override those choices.”

  The second crow large by any crow standards, yet clearly the thinner of the two, puffed up its iridescent blue black feathers. As the bird’s feathers settled, a middle aged woman sat resting on the low wall, where only seconds before the crow had been. She made a striking figure, wrapped as she was, from head to toe in a cape as black as the blackest night. “Yes we did agree sister, but one can’t help but notice, this child riles you beyond all reason. Perhaps it’s your heart attachment to the man?”

  Meredith faced her sister. “Of course this child riles me Hectain,” she said, striking the wall with her open hand, “and as for that distasteful jab, you of all people know, I do not ever make heart attachments. Even if I did how would that translate to being riled up over the girl,” she asked? Meredith lifted her heavy black skirt up, as she sat down upon the low wall. “The problem is Gwenth has no inkling about her heritage, no real idea who or what she is. On top of that, she believes all of the human superstitions regarding magic! That’s what riles me so,” Meredith said. “The child is fast asleep. I can’t even begin to fathom how to wake her, especially in this time of witch hunts. How will she hear me over the clamor of the Scottish church?”

  Hectain turned first from one sister to the other. “Why don’t you shift Reval? Contrary to what father’s said all these years, it doesn’t feel at all bad. It actually feels kind of nice.”

  Reval shook herself all over and as she settled her feathers, a short very stout middle-aged woman sat naked on the wall in the place the rotund crow had just occupied. “Oh my it’s so cold sisters! How do these humans stand it?” Reval sat shivering and trying to huddle against the wind.

  Meredith and Hectain exchanged a glance. Hectain let out her breath slowly, “Dear, if you would choose clothes I think you would find that they are almost as warm as our natural feathers.”

  Reval giggled, “Oh yes, of course you are right dear sister,” Reval shook herself once again from head to toe and her stout figure was clothed in a heavy cape over a pale shirtfront and her legs were covered in a black woolen skirt. Low heeled boots of soft leather encased her feet. “Oh you were so right, thank you sister.” Reval let her fingers pick at the cloth as she settled into the sensations of her human body. Turning towards Meredith, Reval wagged her finger at the youngest sister, “Hectain is right, you know, in at least one thing. You have made a heart connection with the man. No, let’s not start with subterfuge,” she said, shaking her head so that hard her dark mane of hair came loose from where it was tied back about her shoulders. “If you are so foolish as to be lying to yourself, it’s better now if that stops. I know you both often think I’m silly,” Reval mused, as she reinstated order over her wild hair, “And I suppose in our world I have played at that too often, for my own good, but I will not pretend for your benefit now. You must admit what is so clear to us, sister. You must admit to the emotional alliance, it may yet help our cause in the long run, though even I can’t quite see how.” Reval’s voice trailed off as her focus honed in on a beetle, crawling within reach of the shape shifter.

  Meredith’s shoulders slumped, her raven-colored bangs fell over her left eye and a sigh escaped her open mouth. “Alright then,” she said dejectedly. “It’s true, sisters, as horrible as it will make me to you both, I grow ever more connected to Gwenth’s father. I have been denying it even to myself, but I suppose if you two see it, there is no point in lying further,” she said shrugging. “Though
how you can think this is good is beyond me, Reval.”

  Reval shrugged and adjusted her cape, drawing it closer around her shoulders. “Well, who can know? Even the Corvine must bow to the greater goal. I think you need not fear the connection, my dear.” Reval jump down from where she sat on the wall, and valiantly struggled trying to remain upright in her newly booted feet, as she shuffled uneasily over the rocky ground to her sister and carefully leaned in to pat Meredith’s knee. “We will never abandon you, even if all the Corvine turn against you. We are your sisters, always. No matter what form you adopt in the end we will always hold you dear in our hearts, and unlike you, we both have experienced love before so we know and remember the edge of heaven and hell you skirt so anxiously now.”

  Hectain sat quietly watching the tender moment between her siblings. All the while listening to the deeper song that sang out underneath their words, a song of the energy of the world and then she saw a vision of her youngest sister in later years happy in the arms of this man. Hectain sighed, as she shook herself free from the image, “Yes for once, Reval, speaks the truth dear one, we who are your sisters will never leave off loving you, so don’t worry, lay your fears aside and let yourself love this man, and perhaps it will help the girl somehow awake to her destiny as well.”

  Meredith’s green eyes sparkled brightly with unshed tears, “Thank you sisters. Come here and let me hug you both and then I must walk on. I need time to think all this through.” Meredith pulled the unsteady Reval into her embrace and was joined by Hectain. Silently the three sisters let several breaths pass as they clung to one another. Meredith finally pushed the other two away gently, and stepped back.