After a second or two of awkward silence Sophia replied, now with a sarcastic tone in her voice. “It seems that I’m not the only one to have changed my name over the years… Hazel… If we’re to address each other formally, do you wish me to call you by your given name… Alden?” Hazel smiled and calmly said, “You may address me in any way you feel fit… But don’t think for one moment that you will provoke me into another argument… I’m your sister, not your enemy… So if it’s a fight you want, I’ll leave now.”
Sophia was determined not to back down to her sister: how dare she just come to her door uninvited and insist that they should talk? Sophia took a second or two, trying to measure her sister up, staring into Hazel’s eyes. Her sister did indeed sound sincere but being alone for so many years, Sophia found it difficult to trust anybody… including someone as close to her as her sister. She smiled. “You look well for being a mother,” she said, turning towards her home. “As you’d made the effort to visit… I can at least offer some refreshment… Come… we’ll talk inside.” She stopped and turned to face her sister. “But don’t for one minute think my hospitality means I’ll give you anything… whatever it is you want… I offer nothing other than hospitality and make no promises… Is that clear?” Hazel just smiled. Now happy that she’d made her position clear, Sophia turned and walked back to her home. Hazel paused a moment to look back at Bert and Ben. Bert nodded, indicating for her to follow her sister.
Still at the clearing around Acca, Bree and Henry both sat cross-legged by the old oak tree. Oddly, Bree had insisted that Henry sit with her facing the tree. “This is Acca,” she said, looking at the tree, giving her a strange look. Henry wondered why on earth she was introducing him to a tree. “It is nearly time for you to find out more about yourself,” she continued, “and how you… I… and the others around you fit into the scale of things.” Henry still had no idea what was happening, but one thing he did know was that sitting cross-legged in front of an old tree didn’t seem to be the way to find out anything, let alone about himself. However, obediently, he did as he was asked.
The past twenty-four hours or so had really taken their toll on him. He was weary and hungry, and at this point in time was prepared to listen to anyone who could help him understand at least a little of what was going on. “Is my mother some kind of magical witch?” Henry asked out of the blue, Bree smiled to herself. “Have I said something funny?” Henry said abruptly. “No, my dear Henry,” she replied, still smiling. “ She is a strong and powerful protector of all things living… a lady of nature… and as such has the ability to harness its powers… And no… my sweet Henry, your mother is no witch.”
A good hour had passed and Henry still found himself with Bree, sitting on the damp ground looking at the tree. Even though it was the most magnificent tree he had ever seen in his short lifetime, it still didn’t help him in understanding his new role in life. Besides, staring at its bark was becoming more than a little monotonous, and to break up the boredom he gave Bree a few sneaky looks. No matter how many times he looked at her, he was still amazed by her beauty and, even though he had known her for just a few hours, he knew deep down inside that he would do anything she asked of him, even mindlessly sitting and looking at a tree for an hour or two. Henry relished every second with Bree. The sheer simplicity of her beauty was just mind-bending: he had never felt this way before. Although they had just met and he had no idea how long Bree would stay with him, he couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving him… ever.
He was still staring at her when she caught him looking her, making him quickly look away, blushing. Bree smiled. “It’s time now, my sweet,” she said with a voice as soft and as sweet as a summer breeze. “Time for what?” Without answering, Bree floated up and landed in front of Henry, and she reached out her hands in invitation to join her. Henry got up and held onto her hands: immediately the two made a connection that they both knew could never be broken. Bree was as surprised as Henry, leaving them both staring into each other’s eyes for quite some time before Bree managed to regain a little of her composure and guided Henry closer to the old oak.
“You will be going on a long journey,” she said softly. “A difficult but essential journey… You should learn all you need to know about yourself… your past… and your future.” She paused. “At times, you may feel that you are alone… but be assured, my sweet Henry… I will never leave your side… ever… Now place your hands on the tree and I will introduce you to Acca.” Again, Henry thought. “Introduce”: what a strange word, bearing in mind that it was only a tree. However, he did as he was asked. Enjoying the closeness of Bree, he placed his hands on the gnarled bark, and as he did so, Bree stepped behind him and placed her hands onto the backs of his. It felt so good her leaning against him, and the touch of her hands was as soft as a feather. He took a deep breath to take in the beauty of her scent. “Acca… he’s here,” he heard her whisper.
However, Henry’s thoughts were not of the tree, but of Bree: he was more than happy to stay leaning against the tree and enjoying the close contact between them. He had no idea why he was asked to put his hands on the tree, but as long as Bree was leaning against him, he really didn’t care. Then abruptly and without warning he felt himself melt into the tree. First it was his hands, then his face: he felt as if he was being sucked into the tree itself. He closed his eyes, afraid of what might be happening to him. He continued to melt into the tree for a further few seconds, then he felt a slight breeze on his face. He opened his eyes slowly, afraid of what he might find. However, he was amazed to see that the woodland had gone, and instead he found himself standing on a glassy hilltop overlooking a landscape dotted here and there with little settlements made up of round houses and huts with thatched roofs, fences and enclosures all made from woven willow. There were pigs and goats, dogs barking, roaming free and fires scattered all around the complexes. Some had groups of people around them, and others had what looked to be cooking pots hanging over them. Others were abandoned, left to burn down to smoking embers. He was stunned by what lay in front of him and bewildered as to how he got there. He looked beyond the village and found that the landscape stretched for miles.
“You may not know me, but I am known as Acca.” A deep voice reverberated in his mind. “I am to show you what has passed… and what may lie ahead,” the deep voice continued. Henry was unnerved but still felt the reassuring touch of Bree pressing against him. Even though he couldn’t see her, he knew she was there as she promised, giving him the small amount of reassurance he needed not to panic. The deep voice started to speak again. “This is what you would call the time of the Saxons… It was a time of war between men… but it was also the last time that man and nature existed in harmony together… Man made war with one another… At first it didn’t affect the relationship between people and the land in which they lived… It was a time when the earth was balanced.”
Henry was still confused as to why he was standing on a hilltop overlooking a Saxon village: what on earth did it all have to do with him? Acca, knowing his thoughts, answered, “Just watch and listen well… son of Alfwald… for all will be made clear.” “Son of Alfwald… who on earth is Alfwald?” Henry found himself saying out loud. “Silence, boy!” Acca demanded. “Watch and listen, boy… it may help you to become the man the world hopes you will be.” Henry wasn’t too happy that he had just been reprimanded like a naughty schoolboy by a… a tree, but he did as he was told. “Close your eyes, boy, and then open them again,” the voice instructed. Again, Henry did just as he was asked: he closed his eyes and then slowly opened them, first one eye then the other. He was now standing in the heart of one of the villages he had just overlooked. The people all around him were dressed in heavy, woven, leather and animal furs clothes. Men and women alike carried spears and shields, and nearly all had a sword or knife strapped to wide leather belts.
He watched with amazement as everyone around him went about their daily tasks, none of them seeming to
know that he was even there: he was invisible to them all. “This is where your story starts,” the voice said, interrupting Henry’s thoughts. “Alfwald is the chieftain of this village and head chieftain of all the surrounding areas… He is… or, more to the point… was a strong leader, a great warrior and was respected by all.” Henry looked around, trying to take in as much as he could. He was fascinated with it all but still had no idea how he fitted into all this. “Look to the long house and see,” the voice demanded. Henry did as he was told and looked over to the only building that wasn’t round, a large, imposing timber building made of large oak beams with large, heavy wooden double doors, decorated with all manner of strange, colourful creatures. The roof was thatched and deeply slanted with a large overhang. Just above the large doors was the strange, gold-painted dragon, just like the one his mother had on the medallion around her neck. “A Wyvern,” he said to himself.
Henry looked for the chieftain as instructed, but there were quite a few men in the directions he had been indicated. Then, just to the left of the large doors, he noticed one man in particular who stood out from the rest. He was dressed just like the others around him, all in leather and furs and wore big, knee-high boots again made from some kind of leather and fur, but this man was wearing something else, something that made him stand out from the crowds. He wore armour on his shoulders, and around his neck he had a heavy gold band, again engraved with the Wyvern. Slung behind his back was a large, round shield and he carried a heavy-looking sword strapped to his waist. Its leather sheaf was embossed and inlaid with gold, with the Wyvern wrapping its tail around the full length of the sheaf. When he turned round, for the first time Henry could see his face clearly. His powerful face had heavy, deep-set brown eyes with a deep scar that ran from the centre of his forehead, through his heavy, dark eyebrows and across his right eye, down to his cheek, just missing his nose. He had jet-black, shoulder-length hair and was heavily built: a very imposing figure. Everything about him shouted warrior, and although he wasn’t tall, he certainly stood out from the rest.
Henry watched him as he engaged in conversation with other well-armed and imposing men, all of whom nodded in agreement to what he was saying. He could hear them speak but couldn’t understand a word of what was being said. “They speak in old Saxon tongue,” Acca said, as if he were reading Henry’s thoughts again. “They speak of the Wyvern… the winged fire serpent… It was seen the night previous… a fiery, snakelike object in the night sky and they fear it… they fear that it may burn their villages to the ground and kill its people and their livestock.” Acca paused. “The yellow burning light was seen to fall from the skies and is known to be somewhere nearby… But what the people of the village do not know and are all ignorant of… is that Alfwald is the keeper of the Wyvern… He holds it within him… For the fire serpent needs a host to stay in this world… It is a protector, not a destroyer, and Alfwald must hide the truth from others… For ignorance generates fear… and what mankind fears… it destroys.” Acca paused again. “It’s not just man that fears the Wyvern… The fairy people fear it, too… especially the elves… It was this fear that made the Aelfgar … the elf spear… a spear to destroy the Wyvern… It was made from wood of an old yew tree, then blackened and burnt in twelve different fires made by twelve of the most powerful elfin magicians at the time… each fire adding the voices and fears of the elf that made it. The Aelfgar blackens the soul of its holder… speaking voices of mistrust and fear… and then… eventually takes away the soul of the holder completely… It’s the only object on this earth that could kill the fire serpent.” Henry stood watching the group of men and noticed how they all tended to agree with all Alfwald was saying so easily: either he had a good argument, or he was good at persuasion, but most likely both.
“They discuss the Aelfgar,” Henry heard Acca say in his mind. “Alfwald has decided to keep it for himself… he has burning needs for its power… He will protect the people and their homes for many years to come… but he is also the holder of the spear… mainly to keep it from those that would use it against him, should they find out that he hosts what they fear most… Alfwald had convinced the villagers that if he was the keeper of the spear… the only weapon that could kill the thing they fear… he… and he alone would be their protector… But in reality he would be protecting himself and the Wyvern.” Acca paused a moment, allowing Henry to take it all in. “But for him to be able to bear the elf spear, they would first have to take it from elfin people… This they did and had to use force to achieve it… making a rift between the two peoples for centuries to come… a rift that you must mend if we are to succeed in our fight.” Henry, unmoved from the spot, noticed the black staff that Alfwald was holding. To anyone who didn’t know what it looked like, it was an old bit of burnt wood. Acca continued. “We must now move on… Close your eyes and then open them,” Acca demanded. Again, Henry did as he was told, but when he opened his eyes this time he was standing in a different time and a different place.
He was now standing in a heavily wooded area and surprisingly only yards from where Alfwald was standing and, at first, was taken aback a little by being so close to him. Although it was poor light, he could see him clearly. Alfwald looked a formidable figure as he stood alone within the darkness of the woodland. He was holding the black spear in his right hand and his left rested on the hilt of his sword. Once Henry’s eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, he noticed to his horror that Alfwald wasn’t alone; he was standing very calmly facing up to the very thing that his mother had protected him from the night before. The large, dark creature hovered in front of him, its red, burning eyes staring directly down at Alfwald as if it could see his very soul. Just like the night before, it didn’t take any real form: instead it shifted shape as it moved from side to side. Alfwald still stood firm, showing no fear or any intention to fight or run from it, and then the dark creature slowly started to become more solid. It twisted and turned as it started to take form. Henry couldn’t take his eyes off the thing. It was frightening enough before it took form, but now… it was terrifying, a creature of nightmares.
Henry stood frozen with fear. It was all so real to him. “I sense your fear,” Acca said. “It’s just a memory I share… nothing can harm you here,” he continued to say, trying to give Henry reassurance. “All I show to you are just memories of long past… Watch, son of Alfwald.” Henry had no idea why Acca insisted on calling him son of Alfwald, but he hoped that it would be made clear to him before the day was out. But for now, the only thing he was concerned about was the dark, terrifying creature that stood just in front of Alfwald. The monster stood well over ten feet tall, black and covered in large, heavy-looking scales with the odd coarse, spiky hair sticking out here and there. It stood on two large, powerful, heavily clawed legs that had an extra joint near the ankle ending in a hoofed foot. The upper body was extremely powerful with arms that nearly reached the ground. The two huge claws on its hands reached towards Alfwald but didn’t touch him. The head of the creature looked as if it was too large for its body. The creature had the same red, lava-burning eyes set deep into the scaly, large, reptilian face, and when it opened its jaws it showed row upon row of razor-sharp teeth. Red drool ran out at the corners of its mouth as it tried to communicate with Alfwald.
“This, son of Alfwald… is when Alfwald turned towards the darkness,” Acca stated. “The elf spear has twisted his mind… many voices of long dead speak to him… pulling him away from the light and into darkness… Alfwald’s mind is no longer his own, he’s no longer the powerful leader and warrior he once was. He walks lost… and alone… but still he hosts the Wyvern, but he no longer has the will or strength to control it… No longer can he protect his people and no longer can he serve nature… His only driven desire now is power…” Acca paused a second.
“He has made an accord with the shadow master and now is forever lost to the darkness… with no way back… his only escape is death itself.” Henry was trying to take
in everything he was being told but he was still frozen in fear by the sight that lay in front of him. “Lady Alden… Hazel, your mother,” Acca continued, “was set the task to see if it was possible to convince Alfwald to convert back to the light… as protector… But if she couldn’t… she was to do everything in her power to release him of the Wyvern and to recover the Aelfgar…” Acca paused again. “Lady Alden was… and still is… a powerful and resourceful sorceress and more than a match for Alfwald… However, there was a risk in sending her to face Alfwald… Fear that she wouldn’t be strong enough to complete her task.” Acca then said loudly so that Henry didn’t miss the point, “Because, son of Alfwald… they were once lovers!”
Henry remained silent, the image before him fading whilst another materialised. They were now back in the clearing of the old oak, but things were different: the oak was much smaller and younger, and the clearing was a mass of colour, both on the ground and in the air. Fairy creatures danced everywhere, landing on the colourful flowers and flying between the branches of the oak. The air was sweet and full of life: it was a beautiful sight to behold. Henry was relieved that the creature had gone, but suddenly came to his senses and realised what Acca had just said. “My mother… lovers… do you mean?” He was almost lost for words. “What are you saying…? That would make her hundreds of years old,” Acca replied to him in a firmer tone, “Boy… be silent… you will only learn by listening… Nothing by talking.” There was a brief silence before Acca continued. “Your time with me is short, so listen and listen well.”
Again, Henry felt it a little odd being reprimanded for a second time by a tree, but he had come this far and was keen to know more; so he stayed silent and waited for the tree to speak again. It was now obvious to him that it was important to learn as much as he could, even though he had no idea why. Yesterday he was playing on his computer and watching television, fairies and elves belonged in books and films, but now they had become a real part of his life… And somehow he knew there was much more for him to learn… Whether or not his life depended on it was yet to be seen, but he knew enough to know that it was in his interest to learn as much as he could, even though it was a lot for anyone to accept. “Your mother and Alfwald were once as one… lovers… and you were conceived as a result of their ill-fated love.” Acca paused again, making sure he had Henry’s complete attention. “It’s important for you to understand what I say next.” Then, without pausing, Acca continued in a deep, almost monotone voice. “You were conceived but not born… Here in this clearing and witnessed by me… your mother’s emotions could have clouded her judgement and weakened her resolve… but it was decided to choose the only person who could get close to Alfwald and our only chance of success… It had to be Lady Alden… your mother… she was to try and persuade Alfwald to return to the light.” Acca paused again, hoping that Henry knew the importance of what he was telling him. “She was true to herself and succeeded in her task of relieving Alfwald from both being the host and in recovering the elf spear.”
Between Darkness and the Light Page 8
