At the strength of her voice, the two elves looked at her with a little less confidence. But then, Borrigan began to laugh again, and said: “Very well, Pan. Have it whatever way you want it! But know this! We decree that the human woman is no longer welcome in the land of Meridia – and we declare that she shall be exiled. If you do not comply with this demand, our full force shall bear down upon you.” She gazed at Pan with her stony eyes, and then added: “You have until nightfall! Say your goodbyes, and send the human woman on her way.”
“You know,” Lamia said, “it’s awfully rude to talk about me while I’m standing right in front of you. Why don’t you speak to me, oh brave queen of the Hall of Sorrow?”
Borrigan looked at her with disgust. “You are beneath me,” she said simply. “I will not speak to you.”
“You just did, though,” Lamia said with a grin.
Borrigan frowned. “You’re a wretched girl,” she said. “I regret that I didn’t kill you, the day you came into my hall.”
“I’ve done you no harm,” Lamia argued. “Why do you hate me?”
Borrigan cast a deep look into her face; and it seemed, for a moment, that she forgot her hate. Her expression clouded with a strange, yearning look; but then she shook her head, and the look quickly disappeared.
“I will say no more,” she told them. “Do as I have said – or there will be a price to pay.”
She and Medruga turned their horses to depart, but Pan called after them.
“You know that I’ll never send her away,” she said.
“Then you will pay the price,” Borrigan declared.
Without another word, she and Medruga rode away, leaving Lamia and Pan standing with astonished expressions at the edge of forest.
Part Two:
The History of Meridia
Now, it is only to be expected that there truly was a reason why Borrigan seemed to despise Lamia. Likewise, there was a reason why the sight of her filled Medruga with sadness. The two reasons were identical: they were one and the same. We fear that we cannot tell you that reason straightaway; you shall have to wait to hear it; but here is a story that shall serve as the beginning of the explanation.
Meridia is a magical land which came into being many thousands of years ago. Its first living inhabitant grew from a seed which was dropped onto the ground by a mighty elder tree. The seed sank into the earth; roots sprouted from it; and it grew upwards into a pale, beautiful tree which took the shape of a man. This was Moravian: the first of the elves.
After many years, the many branches which had grown from his limbs fell off; his eyes opened for the first time; and he pulled his feet up out of the earth to take his first step. With a wave of his hand, he created the kingdom of Eristhes, and with another, he created a beautiful elvish woman named Esmé.
Moravian and Esmé lived alone in their empty kingdom. Esmé was very unhappy, and very lonely, but Moravian did not notice. He was very fond of Esmé; but alas, Esmé did not love him.
She took long walks through the land of Meridia. One day, she came across the seedling of an elder tree, which was beginning to sprout into the shape of a lovely woman.
Esmé tended the tree until it was grown, falling more in love with it each day. Finally, it opened its eyes, and told her its name was Rowena.
Esmé spent her days with Rowena in the hall of a great elder tree, and she spent her nights with Moravian in Eristhes. But one day Moravian learned of Esmé’s love for Rowena. He followed her when she left the castle, and he trailed her to the elder tree she shared with Rowena. He kept perfectly silent, and looked on in horror, as Esmé went into the tree and took Rowena in her arms. Their mouths moved against each other with longing. Moravian looked at how closely their bodies were pressed together, and observed how his own form had never been allowed so near to Esmé’s.
When finally the two elvish women fell into their soft bed of down, Moravian could stand it no more, and he came into the tree. Without a word, he slew Rowena, and then turned to quit the place.
Esmé was crushed. Because of her loss, her heart was turned to stone. She set up her own kingdom, and it was called Baranthor. She took many elder seeds, and with her black magic, she caused them to grow for her a gargantuan army in the space of but a single day.
This army chased Moravian from Eristhes, but did not manage to slay him. Instead, he ran to the Sea of Inisheera and dove beneath the waves. For the many years that followed, he lived at the bottom of the sea.
Esmé tried to use her magic to bring Rowena back to life, but it could not be done. So she mourned for a thousand years.
But afterwards, she grew lonely, and desired for someone to be with her. So she crafted a beautiful elvish woman for herself, from the finest elder seed which she could find. And she cast a spell upon it, to make it fall in love with her. But this first woman did not satisfy her; so she created another. And yet, the same thing happened this time – and the time after that, and the time after that. With each new lover, she grew more and more disappointed. They were nothing like Rowena; and she could not love them.
After a year, she had six vassals. But they had Esmé’s enchantment upon them, and they grew envious of each other. Moreover, they were bitter at the fact that Esmé did not love them. So they joined together; slit the throats of Esmé’s army while they slept; and then killed the queen herself. Afterwards, they separated, and set up for each of themselves a house in the distant wilderness.
The first vassal was a winged elf named Caina, and she made her house in the sunlit grasses of the Green Meadow. She was fair to behold, and seemingly playful in temperament; but beneath all this she had a vicious temper, and she would not hesitate to take someone’s head. It was she who had slit many of the throats of Esmé’s army.
The second vassal was Medruga, Empress of the Black Lake. She lived on this rainy, misty lake, waving her magic wand to make even more rain and mist appear, so that she could revel in her own misery.
The third vassal was Sylphona, Queen of the River of Youth. She had no need of the river’s waters, because she was an immortal elf; but she safeguarded her treasure nonetheless.
The fourth vassal was called Borrigan, and she was the horned queen of the Hall of Sorrow. She crafted a heavy throne made of stone, and two elves also, whom she forced to lie beneath the throne, holding it up for hundreds upon hundreds of years. As is often the way of things, the sight of their pain and misery served to soothe a little of her own discontent.
Esmé’s fifth vassal was named Malina, and she was the slave-master of the Shadow Forest. With her own magic, she created many hundreds of prisoners, and tortured them daily – for the same reason that Borrigan put elves beneath her throne.
The last vassal was Corella, the mad elf of the lonesome candle. She had cremated Esmé after her death, and she carried these ashes round with her in a little wooden box.
Now, for many years, there were no creatures in all of Meridia save for these six elves – and the ones that they created with their magic, of course. Also there was Moravian, who still lived beneath the sea. But other than these – there were none.
And then, one day, a seed fell from an elder tree, and grew up into a beautiful woman who was called Pan. She was born from the very same tree as Rowena, the third elf of Meridia, from what is called a twin-seed. This seed was the identical twin of the one from which Rowena was born. Pan was identical to Rowena in every way; but her soul was unique.
She lived for long, lonely years within the forest of Gelbane, with only the elder trees, and the flowers, to keep her company. Then, one day she decided that she would try to make a companion for herself. On her first attempt, she made Brudo; and though they bickered frequently, and often got along very badly, still they shared a deep friendship.
Then one morning, while she was walking through the wood, Pan came across an open clearing: and she found there a strange table with a sword lying upon it. Now, she had been through the clearing many times before, but s
he had never seen the sword. She hardly knew what magic could have called it there; but it came nonetheless.
After this day, Pan called herself the protector of Gelbane. She knew that this was the purpose of the sword – although she never even took it into her hand until the day that Lamia came to Meridia.
And it was Brudo who came for Lamia. He knew that his friend was very lonely, and very miserable, and he wanted to do something to help her. Being an elf, he had magic of his own; so one night while Pan was sleeping, he held his hand over her brow and looked into her dreams. There he saw a beautiful young woman, tall and dark, with bright blue eyes. Pan didn’t know where to find her, but Brudo’s heart showed him the way.
And so, he came into the world of humans, and found Lamia there – the young woman from Pan’s dreams.
When Lamia arrived in Meridia, and when Pan lifted the sword from the table for the first time, she understood that her purpose was not just to protect Gelbane, where no enemies ever came – but, moreover, to protect Lamia.
And this is the way things fell, from the birth of Moravian, to the day when Borrigan and Medruga came to Gelbane. Then they left, having delivered their threat – and though Lamia wouldn’t have said it aloud, and though Pan certainly never would have admitted it, they were both sorely afraid.
Part Three:
The Sea King
So Lamia and Pan went back home, where they told Brudo what had happened.
“This is a disaster!” he cried. He stomped his little feet on the floor, and swept the kettle down from the stove with his little arm. “This is a catastrophe! This is – this is –”
“I think we have established, Brudo, that it’s not a very good thing,” Lamia said with a smile.
He smiled back at her meekly, twiddling his hands behind his back. “Sorry,” he said.
Lamia nodded, then gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
“Well,” Pan said to Brudo, “now that you’ve finished with your ranting – we have to decide what we’re going to do.”
“Going to do!” Brudo cried, clapping a hand to his chest, and seeming as though he were very near to having another fit. “Oh, my – what are we going to do? Oh – it’s all too much! What will we do? What will we –”
Pan picked up the kettle that Brudo had knocked down, and hit him over the head with it. He rubbed his skull and glared up at her. “Why,” he hissed, “I ought to –”
“There will be plenty of time for that later,” Lamia said lightly, patting Brudo on the head, and giving Pan a cross look for having hit him. “For now – we have to come to a decision.”
She fell silent, then; and she wore such a serious expression, both Pan and Brudo were afraid to speak. Then, Lamia put a hand to her chin, furrowed her brow, and went to sit at the table.
It was a long moment before Pan went to join her.
“Lamia?” she said quietly. “Lamia – what is it?”
With shining eyes, Lamia looked into Pan’s face. “I cannot put you in danger,” she said. “Brudo must take me back the way we came – and I must leave you.”
Pan was horrified. She knelt down on the floor before Lamia, taking her face in both her hands and looking earnestly into her eyes. “You cannot leave me, Lamia,” she said. “If you wish it, I will go with you into the world of humans, and we will try to make a life for ourselves there. If that is what you wish, only say it to me! But – if you want to stay in Meridia, you must only say that, and I will fight for you to the death. I would do anything for you, Lamia. Anything!”
She pushed herself up towards Lamia, and kissed her frantically, trying to prove with every movement of her mouth that she would do exactly as she promised. Lamia’s body went soft beneath her hands, and Pan began to grow warm; but soon Brudo cleared his throat with a mighty hem-hem! – and they both turned around with embarrassed faces.
“Now,” Pan said, rising to her feet and smoothing the wrinkles from her clothes. “We must make a plan! Brudo – what do you suggest?”
“Oh!” said Brudo. “Now you care what I think?”
“Oh, won’t you just shut up?” Pan cried.
“Do you want me to shut up,” Brudo said sarcastically, “or do you want me to tell you what I suggest?”
It began to look as though Pan was going to go for the kettle again; so Lamia stood up, taking Pan’s hand to steady her.
“Tell us what you think, Brudo,” Lamia said gently.
Brudo crossed his arms over his chest and sulked for a moment. But only for a moment. Then he looked at Lamia (he made sure that his eyes never strayed to Pan’s face), and he said: “I think you should go to Moravian.”
“King Moravian!” Pan exclaimed.
“Yes,” Brudo said airily.
Now, Pan knew full well the history of Meridia; for the elder trees had told it to her. So she knew all about King Moravian.
“He has lived beneath the Sea of Inisheera for over a thousand years!” Pan cried.
“So what?” Brudo inquired.
“So what?” Pan echoed. “What do you propose I do – just walk up to the ocean, and call out, ‘Yo ho, King Moravian! I’ve got a tidbit of a question for you! Won’t you be kind enough to pop out for a moment?’ ” She harrumphed, much in the way that Brudo himself was accustomed to doing; and she added, “It’s ludicrous.”
“Say what you want!” Brudo hollered at her. “Whether you like it or not, he’s the only one who can help us. I’m sure none of Esmé’s vassals will be very interested in offering their assistance.”
Pan frowned and thought about it for a moment. She still wasn’t entirely sure why Borrigan and Medruga seemed to hate Lamia so much; but she knew well enough that it wouldn’t do any good to go to any of Esmé’s other vassals, because they probably wouldn’t like Lamia very much, either. All of the vassals were very similar, in more ways than they usually liked to admit; and though they didn’t often have much to do with each other, they were still very much alike.
“Fine, then,” Pan said stiffly. “We’ll go to Inisheera. We’ll go right now!”
Brudo ran to fetch his pack. Lamia and Pan were left waiting for him; and they merely stood for a few moments, looking at each other with worried expressions.
~
Pan summoned up a swift wind to carry them to the sea; and they were borne upon its broad back, all the way to the coast. Once they arrived, they stood on the damp sand, looking out at the water in uncertainty.
“Call him,” Brudo whispered, nudging at Pan’s thigh with his little elbow.
“I’m going to,” Pan said, still staring nervously at the waves.
“Then do it!”
“If you’d just give me half a moment, you ugly little troll –”
“Now, now, my dears,” Lamia said with a sigh. “Let’s not start all this again!”
Pan looked up, cleared her throat bravely, and called out: “Moravian – King of Eristhes! I bid you rise up and speak to me!”
The surface of the sea seemed to begin to boil, writhing and frothing as if it were alive – and next moment, a tall, fair-haired man stepped forth from its depths, onto the sand where his three visitors stood.
“Who are you?” he demanded, looking first down at his own raiment, so that he could arrange it more precisely after his journey from the bottom of the sea. “Why have you –”
But then he looked up at his guests. He drew a gasping breath and stopped in his tracks.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“I am Pan,” Pan said in confusion, looking at the man as though she doubted his sanity. “This is Lamia – and this is Brudo.”
Brudo made the man a little bow, grinning widely.
But the man wasn’t looking at Brudo. He was gazing mainly at Lamia; but from time to time, he glanced at Pan in distaste.
“Who are you?” he repeated, more firmly this time. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve already told you who we are,” Pan said. “We’ve come for
your help!”
“For my help?” Moravian inquired. “You’ve come for my help – wearing those wretched faces!”
He covered his own face with his hands, turning away. “Begone with you!” he cried.
“Please,” Lamia said, hurrying forward to lay her hand on his shoulder. “Please – won’t you talk to us?”
He looked back slowly, and then stared wonderingly into Lamia’s face. “What,” he gasped; “what did she say your name was?”
“Lamia.”
The man turned fully around, taking Lamia’s delicate hands in his own large, strong ones. Pan snarled a bit at this, but Lamia looked back at her, and told her to hush.
“Lamia,” Moravian said.
“Yes?” she answered.
“Why have you come to me?”
“There are those who wish to harm us,” Lamia told him. “I am a human woman, you see – and they say I have no place here. I must leave Meridia, they say, or they will fight against us.”
“But you do not wish to leave,” Moravian said, looking with an odd expression back at Pan.
“No,” Lamia replied.
He looked very carefully into her face, and said, “You’re sure you are not an elf?”
Lamia smiled, and said, “I’m quite sure.”
Moravian looked at Pan again, and said, “But she – she is an elf?”
“Yes,” said Lamia.
“And her name is –”
“Pan.”
“I see,” Moravian said slowly, passing a shaking hand over his pale face. “Well – I have heard what you have to say. But what do you want from me?”
“We seek your aid,” Lamia said kindly. “And your protection.”
She peered deeply into his face, and added, “You are the only one who can help us.”
He stared at Lamia for a long moment, before saying: “Very well. I will help you.”
He paused a moment, looking back at the rolling sea. “I have lived beneath these waves for many years,” he added quietly. “Too many years. Perhaps it is time for me to come back. Perhaps that’s why you’ve come.”
The Story of Lamia & Pan Page 2
