A remarkable silence filled the forest, broken only by the hoot of an owl. A child's laugh sounded behind me, so I spun around to try and catch a glimpse of her.
“Why are you hiding?” I asked.
When I heard a second laugh next to my right ear, I turned my head abruptly. I don't know how she did it, but there she was, sitting on a branch at the height of the horse’s back, and no longer a little child, but a girl of my own age.
I wondered how could she have climbed that high, and so quickly. And how could she have changed her appearance?
“This must be distressing for you, but you’ll soon have all the answers to your questions.”
“I'm tired of hearing people around me talking in riddles,” I cried, losing my temper. “Who are you?”
I glared at her, but she didn’t seem troubled.
"Be patient, Gabriel," she said, smiling at me. "It won’t be much longer."
She waved her hand, and everything suddenly went black and silent. All I could hear was Lightning neighing.
“Wait, come back! I want to understand!”
No answer. I waited a while, disappointed and frustrated, before finally deciding to go home.
The next day, the whole household was boiling. Grandmother had decided to organize a birthday party to introduce me to her friends. Apparently, all these people I didn’t know really wanted to meet me. The staff was hard at work, rushing every which way.
It’s not worth making such a big deal for my birthday, I thought bitterly, when all I want is just to be with my parents, around a cake.
I was tired because of my outing the night before, and in a bad mood.
Florists placed bouquets of lilies and white roses in enormous vases here and there, while George gave instructions to the maids and waiters. Miss Bridget, a petite woman in my grandmother’s service, set up the big table. Immense crystal candlesticks trimmed with floral compositions decorated the center of the table, which was covered with an immaculate tablecloth. The silverware shone brightly, and the fine Limoges porcelain, engraved with gold, gave the scene a timeless air.
The guests began to flow in, but I preferred to escape all the agitation by standing at a window and simply observing their arrival. Cars paraded into the courtyard, each one more beautiful than the last.
Grandmother was downstairs to welcome them. Yet another car arrived, but this one was different. Its simplicity immediately attracted my attention, as it contrasted so much with the other, luxurious vehicles.
A brunette woman stepped down, and Grandmother took her hands with delight and talked at length with her. Then a little girl got out of the car. From the shape of her slender, small body, she must have been at most seven years old. She had wavy brown hair that fell to her waist. Viviane came to a halt when she saw her, clearly moved, then she carefully embraced her and kissed her on the cheek.
I stood speechless for a few seconds. Grandmother had never once shown me that much affection. I wasn’t mistreated of course, and she did give me everything I needed, but she remained cold and distant with me. A feeling of jealousy pinched my heart. I left my post at the window and returned to my room, feeling hurt. I hated this birthday party and I didn’t want to see anyone.
George knocked softly at my door.
"Come in," I said curtly.
"Sir, the Countess wants you in the living room. Everyone is waiting for you.”
“I don’t want to go down," I grumbled. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”
"Madame the Countess will be angry if you don’t come."
“So what? Is she going to throw me in the dungeon?” I replied mockingly.
“I beg your pardon?” George said, his eyebrows high up his forehead.
I rolled my eyes with irritation. Obviously George was capable of many things, but certainly not of understanding a joke. Suddenly my grandmother's hard, cold face, the one I had seen in my nocturnal dreams, came to my mind.
I’d better not push my luck, I thought with a shiver.
“Okay, okay, I'm coming," I mumbled, feeling irritated.
I followed his steps, dragging my feet. A rumble of satisfaction arose as soon as we reached the entrance to the living room.
“Ah, finally!” Viviane exclaimed, smiling contentedly. “Come over here!”
I entered, still feeling disgruntled. Halfway across the room, I passed in front of the little girl, who stared at me with magnificent light gray eyes, filled with a mocking, malicious look that displeased me. I gave her a furious glance, and with head held high, joined my grandmother and the welcoming group of people surrounding her. Silence fell. Clearly, they were expecting her to speak.
“I would like to present my grandson Gabriel, who is twelve years old today,” she announced.
A thunder of applause rang out, accompanied by cries of joy.
My, oh my, they seemed glad to meet me!
I was still in a bad mood, though.
“Comper has an heir. So rejoice, my friends, because you know better than anyone else what that means.”
A murmur of approbation arose, and the guests nodded in agreement when she added, “Tomorrow we’ll have the answer we’ve been waiting for so long.”
I suddenly felt uneasy.
What was she talking about? "Heir" was the same word that Eirian had used.
A Chopin piece began, and conversation resumed as my grandmother introduced me to the guests one by one. Galahad was at the party. He seemed happy to have found his two friends Perceval and Bohort, who were as tall and broad-shouldered as he.
“Is this the burly man club?" I said with a chuckle.
Viviane gave me a reproving look before introducing me to them, and then we approached a group of women, eight exactly. They all had an air of similarity, which was explained because they were sisters. I already knew Thith, my music teacher, Thiten, my chemistry teacher, and Moronoe, my math teacher.
Their names sure were odd, I thought, or at least uncommon. Gliton, a woman with an endearing face and an affectionate manner, was the sister who had arrived with the little girl. The last four sisters were named Mazoe, Gliten, Glitonea and Tyronoe.
“What a big family!” I said. “Aren’t there any brothers?”
“No,” Glitonea answered. “Just one other sister... who couldn’t come.”
They exchanged embarrassed looks.
Changing the subject, my grandmother said, “You can ask Pascal for a glass of fruit juice if you want.” She pointed to a young man serving drinks from behind a crowded table near the fireplace. Hors d’oeuvres were also arranged there, so I slipped over discreetly, as I was hungry and lunch wasn’t ready.
All the guests looked relaxed, and were conversing animatedly.
“Does he know?” I overheard someone say.
One of the sisters, whose name I no longer remembered, was speaking to a tall, thin man with a hooked nose. They hadn’t noticed me, so I stopped and listened.
“No, not yet. He won’t receive the inheritance until the exact hour of his birth. Patience, my dear.”
“Do you think he’ll be as powerful as him?”
"Well, we shall soon find out."
The two people walked away while I stood planted there, trying to understand the meaning of their words. I needed to think, and figuring that getting away from all this noise would clear my head, I began to steer unobtrusively toward the dining-room. It seemed quieter in there.
On entering, I was immediately soothed by the soft light of hundreds of chandelier candles reflecting in the silver and crystal, giving the room a magical atmosphere.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I heard someone behind me say in French.
Startled, I spun around to see who was talking to me. I had not seen the small figure in the corner when I came in the room.
“What are you doing here?” I asked harshly in the same language. It was my mother tongue and I understood it perfectly, even if at home we’d spoken English more often for my father’s
benefit.
“The same as you," she replied. “Tell me, what have I done to make you so disagreeable to me?”
She stared me straight in the eye, not at all impressed by my bad mood. Being closer to her now, I realized that her eyes were not entirely gray – I could see a hint of green.
“Nothing at all," I sputtered, blushing. "I don’t even know you.”
I lowered my eyes to avoid showing her my embarrassment, and focused on her small pendant, a dragon hooked on a sword.
“My name is Melora," she said, smiling. "And you’re Gabriel, my godmother’s grandson."
“Viviane is your godmother?”
Something else everyone had forgotten to tell me.
I frowned, upset again.
“Yes, ever since my father's death, she watches over me and helps my mom," she explained sadly.
“Oh...”
Feeling guilty at being so hard on this young girl, I spoke more gently. “My parents died last year in a car accident. I was the only one who survived. So I know what you're feeling.”
“I miss him sometimes, but my memories are vague,” she said. “I was only a few months old. That's what saddens me the most.”
I took a deep breath, and eager to change the conversation, I looked around the room and exclaimed, "It's true that it's beautiful!"
Relaxing, she gave me a faint smile and said, “You really do live in a wonderful place.”
Then with a little pout, she looked at me mischievously and added, “I have an idea! We could make up a story of princesses and knights.”
"That's a girl thing!” I complained.
“Wait, I’m not finished! We get attacked by soldiers and monsters, and we have to defend the castle! Do you have a sword?"
I chuckled. “For a little girl of seven, you’ve got quite an imagination, and you must be very brave.”
“I’m eight!” she objected.
At that, we burst into laughter, and ran out and played until the luncheon bell rang. The meal passed without incident, and all the guests conversed pleasantly over the tinkling of silver cutlery before disappearing one by one to their respective rooms.
The old man, accompanied by Galahad, entered a small clearing with a pretty little cottage. Its stone walls supported a great thatched roof. Ivy grew up to the eaves and along the tops of its small windows. Thickets of rhododendron in shades of blue and violet surrounded the cottage.
A woman wearing a black shawl came out through the little door and carefully took the bundle the traveler handed her, then dove back into the house. The old man immediately made a gesture with his hand, murmuring something incomprehensible, and the cottage disappeared, leaving an empty clearing beneath the moonlight. He straddled his horse and set off again, followed by the knight.
Together they took a path through the forest, passing in front of its most beautiful and majestic beech tree, a tree surrounded by thick holly bushes. Its enormous roots anchored it to the ground, and its many undulating branches lent it a mysterious look.
Suddenly a troop of cavalrymen burst upon them. At its head was a rider in black and a woman with reddish blonde hair. She was very beautiful, but her green eyes flashed with anger and her lips were stretched into an icy sneer. She muttered a few words, and a strange creature appeared behind her, a horrible, enormous beast whose cries sounded like the barking of dozens of hunting dogs. It had the head and neck of a snake but its body was that of a feline.
Galahad’s horse reared up, and he had to grab its mane so as not to fall off. The riders darted toward him as he drew his sword, preparing to fight.
At the same time, the snake-like creature leaped at the big stag and ripped into its throat, killing it instantly and forcing the old man to the ground. The woman bore down on him, but he quickly responded by calling for help to all the flying nocturnal creatures of the forest. Bats and owls swooped down on her, destabilizing her for a moment. He took advantage of this respite to place his hand on the giant tree and cast his own spell. His palm lit up, and out came an enormous dragon with blue and green scales. It rushed at the monstrous beast and began a ruthless combat.
Mad with rage, the woman threw a ball of energy at the man, who retaliated by throwing bluish bolts of lightning at her as he stood behind a shield of protection, screaming unintelligible words. Everything was in chaos and insufferably violent. Then, struck by the hand of Galahad, the soldiers died and fell into a great pool of blood. The black rider charged Galahad, and a fierce battle ensued, but the knight was much more skillful. He let fall his blade once more and wounded his opponent, who screamed and took refuge behind the witch. She was forced to protect her beast and her partner under the dragon's assaults, so Galahad took the opportunity to flee.
The old man jumped onto the dragon’s back and they immediately began rising in the air, but unfortunately, he could not avoid her last attack, which landed on his spine. He clenched his teeth in agony and shut his eyes, but held on. When he opened his eyes again, he spoke directly to me, planting his blue eyes in mine, and crying out in a commanding voice that echoed in my mind: “You must protect her!”
I awoke with a start, shaking all over. I tried to get up but my legs gave out under me. It was impossible to understand. How could he talk to me, for goodness’ sake – it was a dream!
Completely distraught, I stared out at the storm. Lightning crackled across the sky and claps of thunder echoed in the room. The shutters abruptly flew open, letting in the wind and rain, making the curtains whip up and down with an oppressive slapping sound.
Panicking, I got to my feet to go close the windows, but at that instant bolts of lightning pierced my hands and nailed me to the spot. I felt a strange power surge through my whole body. Images and words swept through my mind, and I could hear the noises of the forest as if I were there. The animals and trees were speaking to me. The elves were shouting happily, and everyone was congratulating me. I felt like my heart was going to burst, that my head was exploding, but then everything calmed down and silence fell.
I headed down the hallway to my grandmother's room, trembling. When I opened the door, Viviane was at her window looking outside. She was waiting for me.
She turned her head toward me, still enveloped in her legendary calm.
“I have to know!” I cried out. “What’s going on? Who am I?”
She stared at me, her face impassive, but in her shining eyes, I read pride and anxiety. She paused for a moment before answering me.
“You are the last descendant of Merlin, the greatest and most powerful magician of all time. You are his heir.”
Shocked, I simply stood there, wondering if I’d really understood her.
Is this a joke? Or has she lost her reason?
She sat down at the edge of the bed, and patted the mattress with her hand to signal me to sit down next to her. With a faltering step, I obeyed.
“Your grandfather and I were charged with protecting King Arthur and his family. He was the ruler of our kingdom, and Avalon is an island in a world parallel to this one. The only way to get there is through a passage in the Broceliande Forest.”
She hesitated and searched my face before adding, “We are not human.”
I recalled the bedtime stories my mother used to tell me, and remembering the names of the characters in them, I suddenly understood.
“Are you telling me that you’re Viviane the fairy?”
She nodded, confirming my discovery. All this seemed completely unreal.
No, it’s got to be some kind of prank!
But deep down, I knew it was the truth.
“The island of Avalon is our kingdom,” she said, her eyes lost in the past, in her memories of her former home. “It was so beautiful before that horrible betrayal! The lands were fertile, and no one lacked for anything. From the castle and its town, we could see fields of wheat, vineyards and apple orchards stretching all the way to the horizon. Our people were happy.”
I remained silent for fear she
would end there, but she continued: “One day, a knight rose up against the king – Mordred, who wanted to conquer this world too. But Arthur didn’t, as he preferred peace for everyone, human or Avalonian. Mordred left the Round Table and wrested our kingdom from Arthur with the help of Morgana, one of Avalon’s priestesses.”
Surprised, I broke in with a question: “Why did she help him?”
“She loved Myrddin, too, as much as I did, and she couldn’t bear losing him to me.”
She noticed my puzzlement, so she explained, “Myrddin is your grandfather’s real name, but I’m the only one who calls him that.”
I wasn’t used to seeing so much emotion on her face. She paused for a minute, then smiled at me affectionately but with much sorrow, too.
“Tyronoe had predicted that one of Merlin’s male heirs would vanquish Mordred. Therefore, having decided to support Mordred, Morgana cast a spell on our family to have only female descendants. And it was so. There was Anwen, Eira and your mother Charis – your ancestors were all women.”
“Why did Mordred want to invade this world?”
“Because here, the Avalonians don’t age. We’re not immortal on our island, although we can live for several hundred years. And Mordred wanted immortality. He began by attacking the castle at Comper, built to protect the passage linking our two worlds and to serve as a palace on the other side. This had always belonged to us. Then he tried to extend his power all the way to the coast of Brittany, forcing Merlin and Arthur to battle with him in the lands of Broceliande. Humans began seeing things they never should have seen – dangerous creatures and knights wholly without mercy.
“Merlin had the sword Excalibur forged for Arthur, and they fought together for many, many years. This is why we’re mentioned in books written by humans living in those times. Fortunately, without formal proof, the stories recounted in those books ended up being treated as legends.
Heirs of Avalon: The passage Page 3