Over the Hills and Far Away

by Susan Skylark

  ~J.R.R. Tolkien, ‘The Road Goes Ever On’~

  Beyond the Distant Hills

  The great horse whinnied nervously; the knight looked around in dread, wondering what could cause the usually unflappable animal such unease. Such was its training that it did not flinch, even before dragons. The friendly light of eventide suddenly became the black of a storm-wracked night and all the whispered noises of a sylvan twilight were now as a tomb. A scornful female voice scoffed in the menacing silence, “well hero? What will come of you? Will you live or die? Will you ride upon my whims or shall the earth swallow you whole?”

  The man shuddered, but knew to his very soul that he could never serve such a vile mistress, said he as boldly as terror allowed, “do your worst, fell lady, but I shall never serve such as thee.” The only answer was her mocking laughter as the ground upon which the horse stood suddenly became treacherous as that of mire or fen. The horse screamed his terror but was soon silenced as they sank from the sight and knowledge of the mortal world.

  There had never been such a cheerful, skipping child as Kylee who was more lark or sunbeam than daughter of men. Her joy it was to sing and dance through the wooded vales in mist and shadow, to whisper with the flowers of the garden when they were aglow with the morning sun, and to share secrets with the little birds that trilled in the hedges. Nor was she surprised to meet one day a creature as whimsical and joyous as herself, save this was a daughter of the fairies, rather than of mortal stock, but such were their similarities in interest and temper that it mattered not. So it was they traversed field and fen together, laughing with the brook and dancing in the mist of dawn, learning the language of violet and swallow. Kylee’s parents would have been aghast to learn that she kept company with any fey creature, no matter how sweet of temper, but they took her tales to be just that: the invention of a young and innocent mind with too little interest in her own kind, but they could not contain this seemingly half-dryad creature without crushing her utterly so allowed her to gad about as she would, thinking she would one day outgrow such nonsense. But outgrow it she never would.

  The years passed and this whimsical bud had blossomed into a fanciful maiden who still kept her secret trysts with her sister of fairykind, but had learned the wisdom of keeping silence upon the matter with those of mortal race. Upon a misty morn of rose and gold, Kylee met the fairy lass amidst the dew soaked lilies, but the creature seemed apprehensive, a mood in which the girl had never seen the irrepressibly gay creature before, said the fairy with trembling voice, “I bear dread tidings, my friend, but worse would it be if no one knew and nothing was done to prevent a great tragedy.” Kylee was at her side in a moment, urging her to speak what she would, for it must be grim indeed to so upset a creature that might have been mirth incarnate. Continued she, “my sister, whose nature is quite opposite my own, has used her magic to coerce and entrap any number of men, warriors all, that they may do naught but her will, this to spare their lives. She intends to loose her vile slaves upon all the folk hereabouts, to rid the countryside of mortal men that she may rule as Queen and Lady thereof.”

  Kylee gasped, “can nothing be done?”

  The fairy said grimly, “there is a chance but the cost is great.”

  Kylee’s fear turned suddenly to a grim resolve, “speak dear friend, I will pay what price I must, if I can avail my folk.”

  The fairy swallowed a sob, but continued, “my sister has captured a number of knights, unwilling to do her will, in the process of acquiring those of a more vile nature that she has enslaved, these objectors may perhaps oppose her fell minions if they can be wakened from the sleep that lies heavy upon them. But to break the enchantment, one must be found who is willing to endure endless sleep that these others might waken.”

  Kylee nodded sadly, “I will try, what must I do?” The fairy flung herself into her friend’s arms and wept as if her heart would break, but after she had cried herself into relative acceptance, she told the girl all she must do.

  On the far side of the woods lay a wild land of moor and fen, amidst those hills was a cavern in which the knights slept as men in their tombs. Kylee set out immediately for that lonely heathland and the fairy vanished to distract her sister that she might not know of this threat to her plan until it was too late. The journey was uneventfully made and as night was falling, Kylee found herself upon a stony hillside beneath a sky of lowering grey clouds. An archway of stone stood black and ominous before her, like the mouth of death. She took a deep breath and marched into the doorway. There was a slight glow in the otherwise grim cavern for some sort of luminous fungus thrived therein. Upon each side lay a row of stone biers and upon each lay an unmoving knight, sword upon his breast, as one interred. She hastened to the far end of the seeming tomb and laid herself down upon the empty bier there and immediately fell into darkness.

  A light glimmered in the doorway as the fairy maid entered to see what had come of her friend. The girl lay unmoving, pale as marble and cold as stone, upon her bier while all about the cavern, the sound of waking men and moving armor filled the air. The fairy’s light and courage blazed forth as she called the blinking knights to arms and told them of all that had come to pass and what was yet to come. As one, they gazed upon the sleeping form of the maiden with pity and wonder, vowing to waken her in turn once the grim fairy’s minions were routed. They emerged from the cave and found their horses waiting and eager upon the side of the hill. Once they were mounted, a great light engulfed them all, and they vanished leaving the hillside to its lonely vigil.

  The vile fairy unleashed her minions at full dark and intended none of her neighbors to see the morning, but her sister knew of her plans and sent her own knights to counter the plot. The fighting was fierce but the wakened knights were victorious and the evil fairy overthrown. The triumphant knights and their pixie captain surrounded the fell creature, who wore a look of haughty triumph even in defeat, scoffed she, “well met sister! A victory indeed, I did not think you had it in you, but what has it cost your dear little friend? She will never waken as long as the hills endure! You have salvaged the lives of those hereabouts but at what cost?” Her scornful laughter seemed to mock the rising dawn itself before she vanished into the whelming mist.

  “What will come of her?” asked one of the Knights of the remaining fairy.

  She shook her head and said, “she will likely get up to more mischief one day, but for now these folk might dwell in relative peace and safety.”

  Asked another Knight, “what of the sleeping maid? Did the fell lady speak truly about her fate?”

  The fairy said sadly, “she paid the price willingly and without hesitation. But terrible is the price to free her from the enchantment; I do not know if any would be willing to pay that price, so she will likely sleep on until the world itself becomes naught but legend.”

  “What then is the price?” asked the first Knight.

  Said she, “one must journey to the far, distant hills that rim the very edge of the world. There grows a flower that is said to cure even death itself, but the price to pick them is dear. The hand that plucks them must then cross the hills and leave the world behind. What lies beyond, none knows, but that is the price.”

  There was much murmuring among the Knights, for they had not reckoned on such a cost. They had thought to fight monsters or fell men, to make a great journey and bold vows, but in the end to return triumphant. But this? To make the effort and never see the result; to strive and never return more? The cost was too much, the price too dear. One by one, they turned away with many fine words and much regret; the fairy wretchedly watched them go, but knew it better that they never attempt the journey than to have their hearts and courage fail at the last. All the men of renown and valor abandoned her that day, but the least of them all, a mere page, remained behind. She eyed the boy with grim hope, “and would you risk this thing when all your elders will not?”

  The bo
y shrugged, “if none else will, that leaves only me. I will go.” He frowned, “how then are these flowers to reach the lady if I am not to return?”

  Laughed she for joy, “I will accompany you lad and bear them back to she that sleeps.”

  The boy nodded grimly, “then we had best be on our way.” She laughed in relief and joy as the boy mounted his horse and set forth into the dawning. As they traveled, asked he, “could you not pluck these flowers to save your friend?”

  She looked sadly upon the boy and shook her head gravely, “nay lad, for my kind is not allowed beyond the confines of this world, only mortal man has that doom and that joy.” The boy nodded, but seemed perplexed by her words, but there was naught she could say to enlighten him, for it was just the way matters stood and was perhaps beyond mortal comprehension.

  She could not harvest the flowers herself, but she could certainly help the boy in other ways and much did she ease the tedium and difficulty of travel with her magical talents and companionship, until at last, after a rather uneventful and relatively pleasant journey, they arrived upon the hills that rimmed the world. It was a charming land of rolling hills, wide meadows, laughing brooks, and bright woodlands, but to the East there was no horizon of boundless blue sky, but rather a perpetual mist that seemed aglow with the new risen sun. Said she, “thence must you go once you have plucked the flowers.”

  He studied the mist and some part deep within yearned above all else to discover its secrets. He smiled at her tremulously, “and where grow these wondrous plants?”

  She smiled and pointed to the mist, “in the very vapor of the mist do they abide.” They walked slowly towards the verge and a wondrous scent filled the air.

  He sighed with great eagerness, “they smell sweeter than life itself!”

  “Aye,” said she, “and so will they drive away even the shadow of death. But come, the time is at hand. Does your courage fail you even now?”

  Laughed he for very joy, “nay lady, I long to plunge in and see what waits Beyond, if this is the mere border, what must lie at the heart?”

  A bittersweet smile touched her lips, “I envy you son of man, for such I shall not know while this world lasts.”

  They drew to the very edge and he reached into the mist, taking up a humble clump of what looked to be no more exotic a flower than what was commonly called lily-of-the-valley. He smiled and tried to draw his arm back from the mist, but could not withdraw it; he looked to the fairy in concern, said she, “you must fully enter the mist and then hand me the flowers from within its confines. Do not go too far in or you and the flowers will be lost to the mortal world!” He nodded and a look of joyous determination entered his eyes as he took that first fateful step. His heart gave a strange quiver as the mist fully enfolded him but he knew he could now hand off the flowers. She smiled with a strange mix of joy and sadness and took the proffered bouquet. He smiled wondrously and vanished deeper into the mists and beyond all knowledge of men. The fairy looked wistfully after the vanished boy, but then remembering her errand, vanished herself back to her ever slumbering friend.

  She suddenly appeared in that grim cave and the scent of the flowers sent the shadow of death flying from its confines. Kylee sat up as one long abed upon a joyous morning and smiled wonderingly at her friend. The fairy then imparted all the tale causing Kylee’s countenance to fall, especially at what it had cost the valiant lad on her behalf. Said the fairy wistfully, “you need not mourn over much for him I think, he rejoiced in his fate ere he vanished from my sight.”

  Kylee smiled sadly and then asked curiously, “what then lies beyond all this? Perhaps I should venture thither and see for myself!”

  The fairy smiled knowingly, “nay child, for all men must take that path one day, but none should seek it ere their time. It was a needful thing that sent him thus, but you must bide here awhile and see what life yet holds for you. Your tale is not yet done.”

  Laughed the girl, “I cannot abide a half told tale, you are right my friend, that day will come soon enough, but I must finish one tale before I begin another.” They linked hands and walked joyfully from the cave out into the glorious day, as from death into life.

  Hiding in the shadows,

  From the light of day,

  In the secret places,

  Where the fairies play.

  ~Wood Violet~

  Though here at journey's end I lie

  In darkness buried deep,

  Beyond all towers strong and high,

  Beyond all mountains steep,

  Above all shadows rides the Sun

  And Stars forever dwell:

  I will not say the Day is done,

  Nor bid the Stars farewell.