by J. M. Briggs
Myrddin watched as the woman knelt onto the surface of the water and reverently placed the dagger on its surface. It vanished into the depths once again the moment she released it and Myrddin swallowed.
“I thought mother was sending me-” Myrddin started.
“I know,” the being replied, “I am not offended Merlin.”
The name startled him as she had called him by his true name only moments before, but he brushed it aside.
“Was it you who called for me?” he questioned, trying to stand tall and not fidget.
“It was,” the woman answered. “It was time that we met, you are old enough now Merlin. I am Cyrridven, although your mother called me the Lady of the Lake. I have never been a Child of Earth, but it was good of you to bring an offering to your ancestors.” Cyrridven frowned slightly, a faraway look in her eyes. “Your ancestors will need the aid and strength of the living in the coming days. The Earth will need the strength of her children.”
Her words sounded like a promise of things to come and sent a chill through Myrddin's body. Through sheer will, he forced the response down and focused on the present.
“Why did you call me?” he asked in as even a tone as he could manage.
“You know what you are, do you not Merlin?” she asked in return. “You are aware that your father was not a human, but a member of the Sídhe who slip into this world to steal and torment.”
“I know,” Myrddin confessed, his voice tight and his fist clenching. “All of my clan knows it; only my mother's position protected me as a newborn.”
Water rippled as Cyrridven moved closer to the shore, a gentle expression on her face. Myrddin dared not move closer to the water and Cyrridven stopped a few feet from him with the edges of her watery gown lapping at the shore.
“You are the only child ever born to both the Earth and Sídhean, you were born singular and special in this and all realms Merlin,” she assured him in a soft tone.
“My name is Myrddin,” he snapped at her, before promptly shrinking back with fear.
“Myrddin is the name your mother gave you,” Cyrridven agreed without any sign of anger. “But Merlin is the name the world bestows on you.”
“How can the world give a name?” he questioned in a doubtful voice.
Cyrridven laughed her voice musical like his aunt's flute blended with running water. She paused in her laughter and smiled brightly at Myrddin.
“Oh, child,” she told him, “There is so much that you must learn. Did your mother tell you nothing of me?”
“No,” he informed her with a shake of his head. “She said that I might gain the answers she could not.”
“And you shall,” Cyrridven agreed. “Your mother met me once, sixteen years ago when she discovered she was with child from a Sídhe raider. She wandered these mountains calling for the voices of the ancestors for guidance. When she came to the water I appeared and passed on a message that you would be a beautiful and strong lad who had a great purpose ahead of him. Your mother is a great priestess of the Iron Realm, but she is no mage. You, Merlin, shall be.”
“Why?” he asked her, “I've been training to be a priest and I've learned to cast bronze. Why do I need to learn… this?”
“Great danger is coming,” Cyrridven informed him, her face tightening. “A new Sídhe leader has risen and she is not content to merely torment humans or steal children. The Iron Realm is the central world in the great Tree of Reality and she wants to rule it. Scáthbás wants to take the whole of existence for the Sídhe.” Cyrridven's lips curved into a small victorious smile, “But the realm's magic is gathering a defense of its own,” her eyes locked on Myrddin's, “And you have a central part to play.”
He wanted to run home, he wanted nothing to do with this strange being and her words of danger. The Otherworlds were not to be toyed with and the ancestors were to be honored for the protection they provided the living. Terror gripped him that the thought that the current lull in hostiles by the Sídhe against his people ending. Myrddin swallowed and looked back at Cyrridven before taking a few steps back from the lake. She said nothing and did nothing to stop him as he grabbed his bag and staff. Myrddin scrabbled up the side of the valley and jumped towards the path that would lead him home, never turning around to see if Cyrridven was still watching him.
7
The Third Day
The problem, Alex was finding, with spending your first two days at college suffering strange flashes isolated to a small group of people that you kept running into was that it made a person start their third day of classes with a very paranoid view of the world. Wednesday started with Jenny's alarm clock going off a few minutes before her own with an overly sugary pop song. After making themselves presentable, Jenny and Alex met Arthur and Lance at the Michaels Dining Hall. To Jenny's amusement, the boys were late and they found themselves waiting by the doorway while Alex kept her eyes open for any sign of Aiden, Nicole, Brandon or worse Professor Yates or Professor Cornwall.
Breakfast was a calm affair with everyone reporting on their Tuesday classes or in Alex's case giving a much edited report. Jenny was loving her Journalism and Media class, Arthur had found his political science 101 boring, but had met some of his fellow political science majors and while Lance had nothing good to say about his pre-calculus algebra class he had nothing but good things to say about his geology teacher Professor Bates.
Alex's nervousness only grew as she listened to the others discuss their positive experiences. Aiden had said that the weird visions had only happened the first time between people so maybe it wouldn't happen again. She paused at her own thoughts, when had she started calling them visions instead of hallucinations. Then again as far as she knew hallucinations weren't usually shared and she couldn't understand why the different visions for each person. Alex snapped out of her thoughts when Jenny poked her arm and called her name.
“You with us Alex?” Arthur asked with an amused smile as she could have sworn that his eyes twinkled.
“I'm sorry,” she apologized quickly with a glance at all three of them before her eyes settled on Jenny. “I don't know where my head was.”
“I was saying that maybe after our last classes we should go the recreation center and see what fall activities they have,” Jenny repeated with a raised eyebrow.
“Sounds good,” Alex agreed quickly with a smile before looking at the boys. “Can you join us?”
“No,” Arthur replied with an apologetic look towards Jenny, “Football practice. We've got a game in Arkansas this Saturday.”
“Arkansas,” Alex repeated with wide eyes. “They don't give you much time to adjust to college before sending you out.”
“That's why the football players were all here weeks before the rest of the students,” Lance told her with a chuckle. “It's the price of glory.” Lance slapped a hand on Arthur's shoulder, “And Arthur here might even be starting quarterback.”
“Seriously!” Jenny gasped at her boyfriend who had ducked his head. “You didn't tell me that!”
“It's because Will has a bad cold,” Arthur rushed to say, “The doctor is worried he might even have pneumonia.”
“It's still a big deal,” Jenny told him, leaning around the round table to kiss him quickly. “The coach clearly sees how talented you are.”
“She’s right,” Lance agreed with an easy going smile. “I almost wasn't going at all and it is unlikely that I'll actually play.”
Smiling, Alex watched the pair for a moment as Jenny beamed at the embarrassed Arthur before turning her attention back to her cereal. They settled into a comfortable silence as everyone focused on their food. Alex jumped when Lance's mobile phone started playing a guitar riff. Quickly, Lance turned off the sound and held up the phone for them to see.
“We'd better get moving ladies,” he told them with a smile.
“Yeah,” Arthur sighed. “Principles of Chemistry awaits.”
They gathered up their trays and quickly moved over to the
trash washing area in a flow of students who all had 9:30 classes. Once they were outside Lance and Alex waited as Jenny and Arthur kissed again.
“See you for lunch,” Arthur promised Jenny before looking over at Alex and Lance, “You'll join us right?”
“Sure,” Lance replied, pleased with the invitation. “I haven't tried the Commons yet.” He looked at Alex and asked, “Any good?”
“Better than the dining hall,” Alex promised before sighing, “Pity my meal plan is mostly Michaels meals.”
“Everyone's plan is mostly Michaels meals,” Jenny huffed before stepped away from Arthur. She gave him a little wave and led the way south-east towards Hamilton.
Reason and Critical Thinking was spent with Professor Williams questioning the class on the first two chapters of the books and their thoughts on the differential between logic and critical reasoning. Apparently Jenny had been pretty close in her thought process on the first day. Professor Williams sat on the edge of the first row desk and summarized the difference as critical thinking was how humans actually thought while logic was how we rationally thought we should think using the Socratic method versus Aristotle's logical reasoning approach as an example. By the end of class, Alex had a long document of notes and a pleased smile on her face due to things making sense.
After a quick goodbye, Jenny and Lance left her standing outside the Hamilton Building and rushed off to their next classes. Alex wandered back to Hatfield Hall to retrieve her statistics book while debating whether or not she should go to class, remembering that Aiden was in it with her. Finally, she settled on arriving right before the bell so she could ensure she sat far from him. Professor Bailey was watching the clock carefully as Alex walked in.
Aiden saw her come into the room and nodded to her as their professor started to call the class to attention. Nothing happened when their eyes met and Alex relaxed into her chair. Sadly, Professor Bailey proved to be a rather dull professor who never strayed from her flat monotone voice. Worse was now that they were off the syllabus discussion, the Professor spent the whole class writing information on the board which made the monotone hard to hear, but it was still not enough to ruin Alex's good mood. At the end of class Alex packed up her things and looked over at Aiden once again. Their eyes met and she grinned when nothing happened. He raised an eyebrow at Alex and chuckled before turning his back on her to walk out the door. Right before he vanished into the throng of students, he gave Alex a small wave over his right shoulder.
Lunch in the commons was noisy with all the students around them clamoring for their food and Arthur speaking much more loudly than normal at their small table. He recounted a story from his and Jenny's high school days in San Francisco much to Jenny's embarrassment while Alex tried to hide her wide grin behind her hand. Jenny only half-heartened threatened Arthur while watching Alex's mood out of the corner of her eye. Lance smiled even as he kept his head down, pretending that he didn't know them. Alex promised to meet Jenny back at their dorm once their classes were over before Jenny and Arthur headed off to Personal and Exploratory Writing hand in hand.
Literature of Western Civilization had a good start as Nicole only looked up at her as she walked into the classroom. Again nothing happened when their eyes met and Nicole gave only a small nod to acknowledge her before going back to braiding a small wisp of her hair. Alex slipped into a desk near the wall, grateful to avoid falling over a desk today. Professor Yates entered the classroom, wearing a different tweed jacket, but with the same pin and carrying a leather briefcase in his right hand. He was humming softly with an occasional whistle as he walked up to the front of the room.
“Welcome back class,” he greeted them all with a wide smile as he set down his briefcase on the front table. “I'm glad to see you all back here today. I'm certain that you all read the first two acts of A Midnight Summer's Dream, but we will discuss it today anyway.”
Strained chuckles filled the room as students tried to look interested in the lesson plan. Pulling a marker from his briefcase, Professor Yates turned to the white board and wrote: Act I and the names of the first characters introduced.
“Let's begin,” he told them as he turned back to the class, “What is established in the first act with the couples that Shakespeare presents?”
They worked through Act I and Alex got the distinct impression that Professor Yates found it all a bit dull. In the span of only fifteen minutes he ran through the plot of the first act with the ruler of Athens about to marry the Queen of the Amazons whom he had conquered and the dispute over the marriage of the woman Hermia who wanted to marry Lysander and not Demetrius. Meanwhile a group of craftsmen were preparing to perform a play for the ruler's wedding creating a play within a play.
Act I established that two men were in love with Hermia, but another woman Helena loved Demetrius who used to love her. To escape Hermia and Lysander plan to run away together, but Helena goes to tell Demetrius so she can see him. Yes the symmetry of love was out of balance and yes Theseus and Hippolyta symbolized order Professor Yates agreed before erasing everything he'd written on the white board. Picking up the marker again he wrote one word on the board: Fae.
“Act II is the introduction of the magical elements of the play and the best known characters,” Professor Yates announced as he spun back to the class. “Most people don't remember the humans, but they vividly remember the supernatural creatures. We're going to start by looking at the roots of Shakespeare's magical characters of Robin Goodfellow, Oberon and Titania as they relate to the mythology of the British Isles.”
The sudden change in the professor's energy and shift in the lesson made the students glance at each other in surprise. Professor Yates noticed the confused glances and chuckled.
“This is a bit unusual,” he conceded, “But literature is the art and power of the written word and many works of literature capture not only the moment they are written, but aspects of a world that has been lost. One of the key themes of A Midnight Summer's Dream is the relationship between reality and fantasy, a theme that Shakespeare takes directly from older mythology. Now despite the rise of Christianity, many of these stories and legends survived, which is one of the reasons that this play was able to speak to the masses. The people in the audience knew what these beings were.”
Professor Yates paused and wrote the names Oberon, Titania and Robin Goodfellow on the board with a flourish. “A Midnight Summer's Dream was written well before the Victorian alteration of the Fae into the tiny winged magical creatures that you grew up with. Shakespeare's audience was familiar with a very different kind of Fae. The origins of Shakespeare's Oberon, Robin Goodfellow and Titania are very old. These are stories that survived from the time before the Romans all the way through the rise of Christianity.”
Professor Yates pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and held them up. “Your homework assignment for Friday is not only to read Acts 3 and 4, but also to complete this worksheet about the Fae. You will find a selection of information and links on the course website, read them and use the information to complete the worksheet. This should be an easy assignment, but spares you a long lecture on the mythological roots of these characters.”
Professor handed stacks of worksheets to a blond boy whose name Alex couldn’t recall and a girl named Susan at the front the room. Both stood and dutifully passed out the sheets of paper. The professor remained silent at the front of the room, but erased the names of the Fae and instead replaced it with a single word: Changeling. When Alex received her sheet she looked it over quickly. There were only three questions.
Professor Yates cleared his throat at the front of the room and whistled sharply to regain the class's attention. “The Fae are prevalent throughout the entire play so we'll have plenty of time to consider them, but for now let's look at the origin point of the dispute between the Fae King Oberon and the Queen Titania.”
He pointed at the word Changeling on the board. “The Changeling is the point of dispute and never s
peaks in the entire play. In some adaptations there isn't even a visual appearance of the Changeling. This is a human child that has been taken from its family and replaced with a supernatural being which is also referred to as a Changeling. The folklore of Changelings is most often bleak, dark, and horrific, with the Fae taking children for their own personal gain. A great deal of mythology has the Fae treating these stolen children as property with some darker and much more violent examples,” Professor Yates informed them with a dark look passing through his eyes.
“It is also important to note that on the human side of the equation, human families were encouraged to mistreat and seek to trick the Fae Changeling to get their real child back. Some myths had children being put into fireplaces and ovens to drive out the changeling. Those thought to be changelings were often horribly abused and even murdered. Even in the 19th century people were still killed in the British Isles on the suspicion of being a Changeling. That's how strongly these stories influenced people even after Christianity replaced the older religions.”
