by Anna Mendell
When she next dined with Edmund and her Uncle Stefan, Rosa kept glancing up at the both of them, sometimes leaving her fork hanging mid-air between the plate and her mouth. Stefan did not notice, but Edmund was becoming obviously irritated. He glared at her when his father left.
“You are being very rude, you know.”
Rosa blushed and looked down at the table.
“Is there something you want?”
“No,” she said, but then whispered, “Yes.” She looked up and caught sight of the servants in the corners of the room. “No” she said again, hurriedly.
Edmund looked at her curiously, and, when Rosa left the room, he followed. “Well,” he demanded when they were alone in the drawing room and Rosa had shut the door. “What is it that you want to tell me? This better be important.”
Without looking at him, she said, “I’ve been thinking and thinking about what I should tell you, and how would be the best way. But I don’t know if you will even believe me.”
Edmund was quiet for a moment, looking at Rosa intently. He sat down next to her on the long bench. “Why don’t you just tell me everything simply? It will be up to me whether to believe you or not. But I promise I will not get angry, no matter what it is.”
“I daren’t tell you everything, but I must say something.”
“Well, get it over with,” said Edmund, with growing impatience. “It is too late to back out now.”
“Well, you know how I see my faerie godparents from time to time?”
“You mean when you went to live in the woods?”
“Yes,” Rosa said slowly, “but other times as well.”
Edmund looked as if he did not know, and found the newfound knowledge unsettling. “Go on.”
“Well they teach me things, about my gifts, and how, I think, one should rule a kingdom. But this time they told me…”
“They told you something about my curse,” Edmund finished for her.
Rosa shook her head. “Not exactly. You see, I had a vision of my christening day.”
While that was probably not what he had been expecting, Edmund still looked interested. “Continue,” he encouraged, “what has this to do with me?”
“You see, the curse that you think you are under, the one that you say everyone whispers about, the curse isn’t for you. It is for me.”
Edmund fell silent, and his face grew hard. Suddenly he sneered, “Of course, you would be the cursed one. Why not? Since you are already so gifted, so set apart, you must take everything for yourself, even the curse. Tell me this, then, why does everyone call me the accursed one behind my back? They have called me that ever since I can remember. They think I can’t hear them, but I can.”
“I do not know,” said Rosa, her eyes brimming with tears, “but it might have something to do with your mother.”
At her words, Edmund lost his mocking expression. “What do you know about my mother?” he hissed.
“Only that she was stolen. The faery who cursed me also took your mother away.”
Edmund looked at her white face and shook his head. “No, there is something else. Something that has frightened you.”
Rosa could not look at Edmund, but he insisted, saying hoarsely, “Tell me! It is worse not to know.”
“She was turned into a snake,” the princess whispered, and she quickly explained what she saw on her christening day. But she did not tell him about the part his father played.
Edmund sat by Rosa’s side, unmoving. The princess took his hand gently into hers. “But one thing I do know, your mother loved you more than anything else. She would never have wanted to leave you. She was taken against her will.”
Edmund buried his face in his hands, and then he quickly stood up and left the room.
For the next few days he avoided Rosa. The few times that she did see him, he seemed almost about to speak, but then would change his mind and leave. Rosa felt sad over the pain her cousin must be feeling, but no matter how hard she tried to reach him, he would not let her. Her only comfort was in her music lessons with Neirin, and the melodies they played were mournful, which suited them both.
ONE night, Rosa once again heard the sea melody and felt her pearls humming to its ebb and flow. Urged by the music, she went again to the seashore and stepped over the dark rocks. This time, when the sea woman raised her slender, pale arm out of the water, Rosa took her hand and was pulled back down into the sea.
They journeyed again into the underwater cavern, and, when Rosa was lifted onto its stone floor, she saw that they were not alone. A woman, tall and in flowing grey robes, stood in the shadows cast by the flickering torches. Her hair was dark, her skin the color of dusk dusted in silver, and her eyes were startlingly bright, shining like diamonds from her face.
Rosa gazed up into her strange, shining eyes. “You are my godmother. I saw you in my vision. You were with me the last time I was here, and I was half-asleep and half-awake with my head in your lap.”
The woman held out an outstretched hand before her, and the hum of the princess’ pearls swelled in response, so Rosa pulled out her silver pouch and placed the luminous pearls in the Grey Lady’s palm. The lady selected the pink pearl and put it in the princess’ mouth. Rosa swallowed the pearl as she had swallowed the white one before. There was only the blue pearl left.
The Grey Lady spoke. “Come, my princess, I must tell you a story. The last time you were in my cavern, you saw your christening day. Tonight I will tell you a story about the distant past.”
The princess shut her eyes as the Grey Lady spoke, and she saw the story unfold before her in clear images formed by the power of the Grey Lady’s words.
In ages past, a young king and queen were separated from their company in the wood. To be lost in the wood is dangerous even now, but then it was even more so, for the faerie and mortal realms were one and the same and the boundaries between them were not yet in place.
When they were lost, the king and queen came upon a glass mountain, and it was brilliant, shining from a fire lit inside its deepest recesses. The queen was frightened and wished to return to the safety of her company, but the king was entranced by the wonder of the glass mountain and desired to understand the majesty before him and look upon its secret flame. He spent the day searching for a way to scale its steep walls, going without food and feeling no hunger, without drink and feeling no thirst, until, when the sun set and twilight hung upon the wood, he espied a narrow crevice which led deep into the mountain. He entered it without a thought, and the queen followed for fear of being left behind. They walked through the endless corridors of thick glowing glass until they came to the heart of the mountain. There the king and the queen fell upon their knees in terror, for beside his undying flame stood the Lord of the Glass Mountain, a powerful faerie lord, tall and resplendent, and in whose power the king and queen had fallen. The Lord of the Glass Mountain, heartless and cruel, declared their lives forfeit for daring to look into his secret fire. The king and queen begged to be spared, promising everything in their power to give. The faerie lord said he would spare their lives if the king gave him one night with his queen, for she was fair to look upon. The queen said nothing, but the king swiftly agreed.
The deal struck, the king was cast out of the mountain where he waited cold and alone all the night long until dawn stained the sky and the solitary figure of the queen emerged from the mountain. In the morning light they quickly found their company and returned to their castle. The queen spoke not a word to the king throughout the day and the night. And when she did speak again, she never once did mention the glass mountain or its faerie lord.
Soon it came to pass that the queen was with child, and the kingdom rejoiced in the news. She gave birth to twin sons, the eldest, fair as the golden sun, and the youngest, dark as night and the raven’s wing. The king took great pride in his eldest born, for he was as magnificent as the day. Strong and brave, all things came easily to him by nature and by right. The queen preferred her young
est born, for, when she looked at her eldest, she remembered the Lord of the Glass Mountain and the wrong done to her by her husband, while, when she looked at her youngest, she saw her father and her mother and her husband’s father and mother. The eldest’s name was Auryn, and the younger by less than three heartbeats was named Aemlyn.
The boys grew into manhood, and a restlessness stirred in Auryn. He performed daring feats in the hunt, and it was whispered that he spoke the animal tongue, and he would seek after the most dangerous boar, wolf, or bear. Eventually he could no longer ignore the yearning of his heart and bid farewell to his father and mother to seek his fortune. His father the king gave him his own sword, and Auryn departed with a light heart and courageous spirit. He fought many battles and saw many marvels, and, if all were recounted, they would take many seasons to tell, and that which is known is but the half of it. Aemlyn remained at home and was a comfort to his mother.
Eventually the old king died, and Aemlyn went out in search of Auryn. He searched for a year and a day until he found his brother, and his heart was glad, for all who saw the golden prince loved him, and the dark prince was no exception, though he did not know the deepest secrets of his own heart. And Auryn returned to his kingdom with a faerie bride and bearing the standard of the Golden Gryphon. And the queen, who had ruled in her son’s absence, welcomed her firstborn, and he was crowned king. The tales of Auryn’s mighty deeds had spread throughout the kingdom and distant lands, and many came and swore fealty to him, and the kingdom grew large and in magnificence.
King Auryn ruled justly and lived many years, almost threefold the common lot of mortals. And when the time arrived, he left for the faerie realm with his bride, for their blood had mingled, and his life was joined to hers. The kingdom passed on to his son, Eirwyn, who was known as “the white” or the “the ageless,” for he did not grow into old age as most mortals do, but instead his years were akin to Faerie. Tall and radiant, with hair of the whitest sunshine, Eirwyn loved music and peace. He did not desire adventure, as his father had before him, but desired instead to rule his kingdom. While his father had made the kingdom great and strong, he made it beautiful. He ruled wisely, and for the span of many mortal lives the kingdom prospered. Eirwyn loved his subjects, mortal things, and the green leaf that quickly fades. He fell in love with a mortal girl in his kingdom and was married with great celebration, and they were beloved of all their people. The king and his queen had a few years of much joy, but the young queen died in childbirth, and, from that point on, Eirwyn knew age and sorrow. Eirwyn reigned until his son grew into manhood and then departed to join his mother’s people and was never seen in his kingdom again.
Lyr, son of Eirwyn, was a spirited young king and took after his grandfather in his love for adventure. He formed a band of young men, all noble and brave, who desired to prove themselves in daring feats of arms, and each journey would take them farther away from their city. It was when Lyr was absent from his kingdom with his company of men that civil war broke loose.
This war was brooding many a year before Lyr was born. Its seed was planted in the days of Auryn and Aemlyn and by the jealousy between them. Aemlyn loved his brother, but was jealous of his father’s love; he buried his jealousy so deeply within his heart that even he did not know it was there. But it was passed from Aemlyn to his son, and then to his son’s son, until the sixth generation. Finally Annwyr, great grandson many times removed from Aemlyn, led a revolt. But Annwyr did not only possess a great force of men, but a staff of lead that bent Faerie to its will. For, while Auryn was on his quest, Aemlyn would often walk in the shadowy wood and poured his jealousy into a deep hole in the earth and listened to the whispers of the dark trees and stared into pools of still water. He whispered his secrets to his son, who whispered his secrets to his son until the sixth generation, and then all the secrets came together and formed an artifact of great power and dominion, the Leaden Staff. Its might stirred through the land and shook the heart of Faerie. Feeling the earth shake and fearing the deep misgivings of their hearts, the faerie sent emissaries to bring Lyr back. And when Lyr returned, he found his city walls closed to him and his people divided. Those who could be bought by silver and promises of power joined Annwyr, but the noble and true joined the king outside the city walls.
Lyr knew better than anyone how impervious to attack were his city walls and how long they would last under siege. He would have despaired, but was able to call upon Faerie for help, his grandmother’s people. The sea people came as well and cast off their tails to fight on the land, though many never returned to the water again.
The Leaden Staff cast darkness and mist upon the land, made the earth groan, and whipped the winds to fury. The staff brought many faerie lords to bended knee and bound even more to rock and tree. It shook the tallest mountain, and the power in the staff called forth a fearsome dragon who brought terror and fire from the sky. Great fear clutched the heart of Lyr’s men and the faerie in their chariots, for the dragon was very old and nothing could withstand his flames. The men and women on both sides cried, as their young men and their fields were ravaged. But another piercing shriek shook the heavens, and the cries of sorrow changed to cries of hope. The legendary Golden Gryphon, servant to king Auryn, flew in from the east. Lyr held the gryphon’s golden feather aloft and had called out his name.
The two great beasts clashed in the sky. At first, the dragon seemed to have the upper hand, and then the Golden Gryphon, and both wrapped their body around the other, rending and piercing each other’s flesh with their talons, until finally the two flying beasts fell to the earth together, having slain each other. And with the fall of the dragon fell Annwyr’s might. For the staff, though powerful, drew its potency from the bearer, and calling the dragon had exhausted the prince’s strength. Annwyr was worn down, and Lyr’s army prevailed, though not before his castle was ablaze and the white and gold city destroyed. A lament went through Lyr’s army when they saw their city in ruins, and many a sorrowful song was sung in its memory.
Lyr spent the next ten years rebuilding his city, though it never regained its former magnificence. He was aided in this by the faerie. They set a boundary between themselves and the mortal realm, and the lead staff passed into their hands, and its power diminished, for they saw that their might was a temptation for mortal kind and that dark powers could use their own magic to bind them, and this they would not allow. They then bestowed upon Lyr seven faerie gifts to grace his kingdom and aid in his guardianship between the two realms. Lyr then named his realm Aurlia, after the Golden Gryphon who had given his life to defend the kingdom.
The Golden King Auryn was then cast out of the faerie realm, sundered from his faerie bride until the division between the two realms, first wrought when the king betrayed his queen in the caverns of the glass mountain, could be healed. He became known as the wandering king, a solitary witness to decay and the passing of time, but it has been long since any have seen him. Eirwyn remained in the faerie realm, for his blood was more of faerie than of mortal kind.
But the faerie did not abandon their mortal brothers entirely. For there are ways of crossing the boundaries, and those who are faerie friends find it easier to cross. The rulers of Aurlia became known as the golden kings and queens and act as guardians between the realms. They are able to call upon their faerie brethren for aid and sit in vigilance against those who would seek to use faerie magic for their own purposes. And in return, the faerie bless each first born child of the golden king or queen, bestowing upon the future rulers seven gifts to rule their kingdom.
The Grey Lady’s echoing words lapsed into silence, and Rosa slowly opened her eyes, feeling as if she was waking from a dream, to find the Grey Lady gazing serenely at her.
“That is why I received faerie gifts, because I am a descendant of the golden kings who are friends of Faerie,” Rosa whispered.
The Grey Lady nodded.
“And my father, did he receive seven gifts as well?”
; The Grey Lady nodded again, and her diamond eyes glowed.
“What are his faerie gifts? He doesn’t seem to know Faerie very well.”
The Grey Lady spoke. “Your father received faerie gifts on his christening, but he has chosen not to use them and therefore lost them.”
“But how did he lose them? Did he not have faerie teachers like me?”
The Grey Lady shook her head. “No, Princess Rosamund, we faerie are no longer as involved with mortal affairs as we used to be, for mortals desire to go their own way. You are different. You have been given a burden to bear that is not of the common lot, and we would not leave you to carry it alone, though carry it you must.”
The princess whispered, “You mean the faery who cursed me. She carried a leaden staff. Is it the same one that Annwyr used to summon the dragon?”
“It is one and the same.” The Grey Lady nodded. “When the staff passed into Faerie, it fell to the one whose nature is most like its own. The Dark Lady is a powerful foe, and she was called into the mortal realm by mortal kind. The power of her curse reaches as far back as the Lord of the Glass Mountain and the betrayal of husband and wife, the betrayal of blood against blood. You need to be very brave and strong, my child.”
“But cannot I just run away? What if I hide so that the Dark Lady cannot find me?”
“You cannot run from the curse, for you carry it within you, and it will happen upon you wherever you would go. But it is time you return to the summer palace. This shall not be goodbye, for we shall meet one more time. There is still more that you must understand, for your story still unfolds about you.” Then the Grey Lady took the princess by the hand and led her back to the dark pool which led out of the cavern.
