Hair the Dragon

In conjunction with the year of the dragon and Chinese New Year, here's a short story I wrote and performed at the Butterworth Fringe Fest with Readings@Tanjong last year. 

HAIR THE DRAGON

They say that the tunnels under George Town are where the dragons used to live. I don’t know about that. It’s 2023, for God’s sake. What dragons? Have you ever seen a dragon? They’ve probably been hounded—or hunted—to extinction by now. It’s not like we’ve seen any in recent decades. Centuries, even. The stories still stick around, though. 

Like the one my uncle’s uncle’s uncle once told my uncle’s uncle, who told my uncle who told me about this dragon that he used to know. Yeah, but unlike the song, it wasn’t a breakup. It wasn’t even a romance. More like a…threat?

Anyway, back in ye olden days, we used to have wells. There’s one at Kuan Im Teng—The Goddess of Mercy Temple—if you want to know what a well looks like, though no one uses it anymore. It’s like this deep hole that’s all dried up and probably filled with rubbish, but that’s where people used to get fresh water and stuff in the past, no kidding. They didn’t twisty-turny or pushy-pully, yay clean water! You had to work for it by going out to the garden, to the well, and pull up a bucket of water on a chain. Then boil it or something so you don’t die. The water, not the bucket. You reuse the bucket. 

If I lived back then, I would have lots of muscles. Or I would be dead of dehydration. Probably dead.   

So, there’s this network of wells, and obviously they’re connected by tunnels, all the way from Fort Cornwallis through to Masjid Kapitan Keling. Or not so obviously because they’re hidden underground. I haven’t seen them myself and I don’t plan to. I don’t think half of them are even accessible now, so I really don’t think we have dragons living in Penang anymore. Where would they even stay? 

Source: https://atap.org.my/maps/ 

I’ve been trying to imagine this, but the best I can come up with is like the underground sewer network, which eww, why would a dragon live there? Aren’t they supposed to be majestic creatures of death and destruction and all that? 

But lots of the old stories say that dragons like caves, so I suppose this was maybe what they were used to. I dunno, I thought they’d hoard enough money to buy themselves a mansion or two. Maybe dragons are just weird that way.

This dragon that my uncle’s uncle’s uncle used to know was called Hair. Not because he had a lot of hair—dragons don’t have hair, they have scales. I definitely have the intonation wrong, but it’s something like the Hokkien word for prawn? Ha, He, Heh, Her, Haaaaiiir. ANYWAY. It probably means something else and may not even be Hokkien so who knows what his name is actually supposed to be? Hair is easier to say for a banana like me. 

Right. Back to the story. 

Hair is an ancient dragon, because all dragons are ancient, and my uncle’s uncle’s uncle was ancient, so everyone I’m talking about is very old right now and mostly dead. Except the dragon, because dragons don’t die, and my uncle, because well, he’s only seventy-ish. He still has a strong heart and he’d be here telling you this story except he doesn’t speak much English and he says his legs get tired, but I know that’s a lie because he always goes for these long walks to the apartment on the next road to see his mistress. (Who he thinks we know nothing about.) Now, if there were tunnels in Butterworth, I’m sure he’d be all for using them so that no one could follow him to her place.

I wonder where I can find that info...

I met Hair once. Or at least, I think it was him. My uncle wasn’t really clear in the introduction, but I think my Chinese was passable enough to understand that he said, “This is Hair the Dragon,” instead of “This is Prawn the Loan Shark.” Which is what I hate about Chinese languages, you know? Everything could be another word if you say it wrong and it should be so pretty and witty and poetic but really it’s not. Plus, I can’t really tell the difference between Mandarin and Hokkien and Cantonese and whatever else. So, who knows what my uncle really said?

The guy I met is now a Facebook friend, which is kind of cool, assuming I met the dragon and not the loan shark. If they even are the same person. He looked like a human, which is a thing I’m told dragons can do. Maybe you should prod your neighbour and see if they’re really human. They could be a dragon in disguise. 

Anyway, next year is the year of the dragon, which is Hair’s year. He hates it, apparently, and says it’s supposed to be mine. Because Rats and Dragons get along or something like that. Don’t ask me the specifics, it’s not like I believe in it anyway, but I believe in knowing stuff. Knowing stuff is always helpful. Maybe that’s why Hair likes me. I know a lot of stuff. 

But you’d think that you’d like your own year, right? I thought so too, because I always thought that if it was your year, they would favour you, right? Your greatest cable, right there. Boom! Direct connection to the gods or whatever. But he told me that having the same year as your zodiac animal was actually bad because then you would clash with them. The only way to resolve that is by signing a “peace treaty” with your “zodiac animal general”. Which is stupid. Like, we’re Chinese, we’re buddies, right? We’re Penangites, we’re buddies, right? So if you’re both dragons, you should be buddies, right? 

The problem, I was told, was that whilst Hair is a dragon, he’s not one of the dragons of the zodiac. There are five elements in the cycle, like earth, fire, wind, water, heart, by your powers—no, that’s Captain Planet. This makes me feel old, but I don’t think anyone remembers who Captain Planet is anymore. The shiny white guy with green hair? That anti-pollution campaign cartoon? Oh well. 

The five, um, Chinese elements, which I don’t remember, means there are five different dragon generals, and Hair isn’t one of them so I suppose that puts him in opposition with all of them. Unless I’m getting this wrong and all this applies only to humans and not to dragons. 

All that aside, Hair used to live in the tunnels under George Town for whatever reason. I’m actually still not convinced there are tunnels. Or that dragons lived there. Though I was told that if you visit the Pinang Peranakan Mansion—you know, that light green building where they filmed The Little Nyonya—there’s another well leading to a tunnel right there. I remember visiting once, but I can’t for the life of me remember if I saw a well. But they might have filled it in and covered it up because, well, tourists. You don’t want things falling in that might awaken something scarier than a dragon. 

SOOOOOOO...

They say the tunnels of George Town were used for other nefarious reasons in those days, besides potentially housing dragons which are not Balrogs. One of those reasons was to smuggle drugs like opium and other, um, illegal items, like guns and weapons. There was a gang war going on, after all. And a war against the British. I could be getting all the years wrong, so don't quote me on this, but anyway, another place where you’re supposed to be able to find a dragon—or THE dragon—in the tunnel network is at the Cheah Clock Tower, which was built to summon a dragon to save Penang from the Big Bad Mat Salleh. I guess it didn’t work because it's now called the Queen Victoria Memorial something or other.

So, the supposed tunnels somewhere under George Town is where my uncle’s uncle’s uncle met Hair, because dragons were honourable creatures who very much did not like smuggling going on in their homes, even if those homes were smelly old tunnels. I mean, I would be upset too, if someone were to use my house as their gang’s hideout and potentially get me into trouble. And obviously, my uncle’s uncle’s uncle was one of those involved in the smuggling. 

It was kind of how my family made their money back in ye olden days. It’s not like all the stuff they smuggled was bad, just controlled, kind of like if you bring chewing gum to Singapore now. Smuggling things like spices and tea to evade taxes was quite A Thing back then because He Who controls the Spice controls the Universe… It really was just that the British wanted to own all the things and didn’t want anyone else to have the money. And my family wanted to get in on that money, at least, until Hair frightened the living daylights out of this ancestor of mine so much so that he avoided the tunnels from then on and went back on the straight and narrow for pretty much the rest of his life. 

I’d like to say that my uncle’s uncle’s uncle never saw Hair ever again, but that’s not the truth. Hair kind of stuck around and checked in on him every once in a while to make sure he didn’t go back to smuggling things in tunnels, which is why, I guess, this story kept getting passed down through the generations. Plus, the story goes, after meeting Hair one too many times, the whole family just up and left George Town and moved to Butterworth. 

Actually, I should ask Hair whether he really lived in the tunnels of George Town or if all that was just a stupid story my uncle’s uncle’s uncle told my uncle’s uncle to entertain him, who in turn told my uncle, who in turn told me because I like knowing things and maybe I’m just gullible like that. I guess I’ll message him when I get home. He’ll probably laugh himself silly and say that everything my uncle’s uncle’s uncle said was a lie. 

He’s probably Prawn the Loan Shark anyway.

That's all, folks!

Originally written for and performed at:

#bookreview: Creatures of Near Kingdoms | Zedeck Siew, Sharon Chin

Creatures of Near Kingdoms by Zedeck Siew
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Creatures of Near Kingdoms is a beautifully illustrated bestiary of Malaysian flora and fauna. Each one-page description is accompanied by a full-page illustration or lino print.

It's whimsical. And fantastic. And witty.

And occasionally confusing if you're trying too hard to figure out The Point.

It's best read in short bursts. Take it as a collection of microfiction, if you will.

View all my reviews

---

I'm lagging behind in my reviews because... idk. I'm playing catchup with work stuff that I can't delay because I'm clearing up my schedule. So the book reviews are the first to go.

Anyways, thought I might as well post this to make up for yesterday's missed post, even if it's not in the current review schedule (which is messed up).

#bookreview: The Tethered World | Heather LL FitzGerald

The Tethered World by Heather L.L. FitzGerald
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

TLDR: The Tethered World probably works better for younger audiences. I'd put it at the younger younger end of YA, maybe even MG, even if the main character is sixteen.
--OR--
One of those books where first person POV just doesn't work for me.

---

Sixteen-year-old Sadie Larcen wakes up early one morning to discover that her parents are missing. When Great Aunt Jules turns up at their doorstep, she learns something even worse: they've been kidnapped by the not-so-fictional creatures her mother has been studying. Which all seems legit crazy, but she soon finds out it's not when she's sent into the Tethered World to rescue them along with her three of her younger siblings--the twins, Brady and Brock, and Sophie.

FitzGerald has created a colourful world where Gnomes, Dwarves, Leprechauns, Trolls, Ogres and Nephilim live in a secret underworld that's tethered to our own--accessible by dragon, of course, because how else would you get there? Sadie and her siblings are in for a great adventure as they try to save their parents as well as their long-lost great-aunt. They fight trolls and ogres, get tricked by mischievous leprechauns, get soothed by motherly dwarfs and yelled at by soldierly ones, and learn to rely on and work with each other.

The Christian content isn't overly smothering; it's presented as a fact of life. The Larcens and the denizens of the Tethered World (at least the good ones) believe in God, so they tend to pray when things get bad, or when they're in need of help. The Tethered World itself is presented as a sort of New Eden, after the first one was closed off after the Fall (hence, the Nephilim). I don't have any opinions, good or bad, about the theology behind that.

Unfortunately, I didn't really connect that well with Sadie, which is probably the main cause of my ultimate meh-ness about the book, since she is the main protagonist and it is her point of view. On the surface, she seems like a very real 16YO. She tries her best to lead and guide her siblings, but she's also selfish and afraid and somewhat distracted by handsome princes. She's definitely in over her head and it shows, even if that showing comes up in her berating herself for her failures, both real and perceived.

I guess I also get the feeling that the author is trying a little too hard. There are copious snarky jokes, often with a book or movie reference, and whilst I can get the occasional need to compare this fantastic world with Narnia (and the like), it gets a little too much. It just seems a little... dated? (DO kids talk about Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, Three Musketeers, Indiana Jones, and Peter Pan nowadays? Hi-Ho Silver? And that much John Wayne? Planet of the Apes I can forgive-there have been recent remakes.) I guess it just seems a bit too over done and maybe a bit forced. (Or maybe that's a quirk of how homeschooled Americans speak, I wouldn't know.)

Still, The Tethered World is overall a pretty interesting read, suitable for younger audiences looking for adventure and fun.

Note: I received a review copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

View all my reviews

#bookreview: Shearwater Part One by @creativindie

Shearwater Part One by Derek Murphy
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

When Clara loses both her parents in a tragic accident, she is sent to live in Ireland with a grandfather she never knew she had. Struggling to cope with loss and a totally new school system, she distracts herself by trying to find out more about her mother and why she left this little vacation town. But Branna Daly's secrets may be more dangerous than Clara suspects. They're reaching out to her from beyond the grave and Clara must find out what they are, if she is in danger, and if yes, and who from?

Shearwater Part One loses a star for a stupid, obvious reason: It's only part one

Derek Murphy plunges you into Clara Clark's world - a world that navigates loss, uncertainty, mystery and wonder - and just as you're hoping he'll take you further into the wonder, you look at the bottom of your kindle, see remaining time of 2 minutes, completion of like 99% and think "darnit... if I turn the page, this story is going to end and I'M GOING TO HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE NEXT PART!!"

Which you do, but at least you knew that before going in because the title blatantly states "Part One". Anyway.

To be honest, Shearwater is a classic coming-of-age story. Part of me totally enjoyed it, even whilst my writer-brain was going "and this will happen, and there- see, I knew it". If you're looking for an exceptionally new storyline, you won't get it. There's an element of predictability to the story, so readers will either love it (because they love YA anyway) or hate it (because it's the same ol' same ol'). Murphy plays with tropes and cliches - the budding love triangle, the mysterious bad boy that the girl can't resist, strange new powers she can't control, girl does stupid things she knows she shouldn't, girl gets saved, oh, and let's remake a mythical creature into something new and play around with mythology... an evil part of me says that it's almost Twilight minus annoying Bella.

But whilst I thought of Twilight as an extremely fascinating trainwreck, I'm curious to know where Murphy will take Clara in Part Two and what wonderful discovery - and dangers - awaits our lovely protagonist.

Note: I received an ARC from the author in exchange for an honest review.

View all my reviews

---

Shearwater launched yesterday (or today, depending on where you are in the time-continuum *waves from the future*) and is available for $0.99 on Amazon. All earnings during launch week will be donated for ocean conservancy and to protect marine wildlife (Derek says that here!) so I'd say that's a pretty good use for your money.

And if you're short of money, it will be free on Jan 28th...

There's also a mermaid giveaway happening!

#atozchallenge: Zână

Previous: Yara-ma-yha-who

Jane sat on the rocking chair under the shade of their porch. She could hardly believe that it had only been a day since she’d made her way into the Old Fairy Kingdom and met so many memorable fairy creatures. She was a little afraid that when she went to sleep that night, she would wake up and have no memory of Ataneq, Euthalia or the beautiful Fairy Queen.
My grandmother, she thought with some astonishment. She had always believed that both her parents were orphans - true enough on Darrick’s side. 
I have a great grandfather too! It was hard to wrap her head around. Opening her journal in her lap, she started to write, trying to remember every detail of the day before it faded away.
Hearing a sound beside her, she looked up to find a beautiful girl sitting next to her, watching her write.
“Who are you?” she asked, surprised at her lack of astonishment, as if somehow since last night, nothing could astonish or frighten her anymore.
The girl laughed, a cheery tinkling sound. “I am one of the Zână. I bestow gifts of beauty and fortune to those who deserve them. I’ve always been with you in this place.”
“Have you? I’ve never seen you before.”
“You’ve only just had your eyes opened,” the Zână replied.
Jane thought about it for a while. “That’s true. But how do I know you are who you say you are?”
“I suppose you have to take me on trust.”
“Can my mother see you?”
“Of course she can. Do you think I come here just to watch you write?” she laughed again. “Though it is fun. You do make up such interesting things.”
Jane blushed. “I’ve never shown this to anyone.”
“Oh, I’m not quite anyone. And don’t worry. I haven’t told any of this to your mother.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky promise. That’s what you say, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well. Do you want to go play? We could go to the stream and meet the Ghillie Dhu. He’s real fun - when he’s not trying to sleep.”
Jane pursed her lips as she thought. “You know what, I’m going to talk to my mother about you. Just in case.”
The Zână smiled. “Go ahead, Jane. I’ll  be right here when you come back.”
Closing her journal, Jane tucked the book under her arm as she walked into the kitchen.
“Mother?”
“Yes, Jane?”
“There’s this girl on the porch who says she’s a Zână.”
“Oh, Diana? What about her?”
“Remember you said we need to be careful?”
“Oh, don’t worry about her. She’s been around for a long time. In fact, she used to help me take care of you. I wondered when you’d notice her.”
“Okay then. Can I…”
“Go off and play with her. Just remember to come home for dinner.”
Ivy smiled indulgently as Jane ran back out the door.
“Are you sure about this?” Darrick asked, looking up from the woodcarving he was working on.
“Oh, she’ll be safe. After all, she has important family in all three lands. Who would dare harm her?”

THE END

Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

Zână (plural zâne; zînă and zîne, d̦ână and d̦âne in old spellings) is the Romanian equivalent of the Greek Charites. They are the opposite of monsters like Muma Padurii. These characters make positive appearances in fairy tales and reside mostly in the woods. They can also be considered the Romanian equivalent of fairies and of the Germanic Elf.
They give life to fetuses in utero and bestow upon them great gifts like the art of dancing, beauty, kindness, and luck. In folk tales, it is told not to upset them because they also have the power to do bad things or put a curse on the wrongdoer. They also act like guardian angels, especially for children who enter the woods, or for other good people.

---

FINAL DAY FOR THE GIVEAWAY!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

#atozchallenge: Yara-ma-yha-who

Previous: Xiuhcoatl

“Well. Now that’s all settled, I think we should be getting home,” Ivy said. “If you have no objections, Mother?”
“Even if I had, would you listen to me, Iliana?” the Fairy Queen said wearily. “Go on then, do as you wish.”
“Come on then, Darrick. It’s been a long day and the children need rest.”
They took their leave of the council and the remaining creatures, Jane saying a fond farewell to Ataneq whilst Mary waved to Charon as they left. Ivy stopped to thank Euthalia personally for watching out for her family.
Euthalia seemed to turn a peculiar shade of pinkish green. “It was the least I could do for Darrick Oak-knower. After all, he saved my life.”
“I did? When?” Darrick replied in surprise.
“Yes - years ago, when you protected my oak grove from the wood-cutters. I was the tree they almost felled. Why did you do it? I’ve always wanted to ask.”
Darrick’s fingers curled around his wife’s. “That was the grove where I first met Ivy. I felt it was sacred to me.”
“Ah.” Euthalia smiled. “Then it worked out well for both of us.”
Taking leave of Euthalia, the little family made their way out of the forest.
The paths were familiar to Ivy and she took her family through the old haunts of her youth from ages past. Jane and Mary stared with wonder at each new creature that Ivy introduced to them. Darrick found himself looking at his wife with new eyes.
“Be quiet here,” Ivy said, stopping suddenly. “This is the haunt of the Yara-ma-yha-who.”
“Who?” Mary asked with wide eyes.
“He’s only been here a few hundred years, but he’s extremely dangerous. He knows who I am, though, so you should be safe - but let’s not chance it anyway.”
They tiptoed through the foliage that Ivy gestured at. Darrick looked around warily, but didn’t see anything.
“What was that all about?” Darrick asked once they’d left the place and Ivy indicated that they were safe.
“Just a precaution,” Ivy replied. “The Yara-ma-yha-who preys on living people by draining their blood over and over again.”
“Like a vampire?” Jane asked.
“A little.”
“Wow, I didn’t know that Fairyland could be so dangerous,” Mary said.
“Every world has it’s own dangers, dear. Just as in our normal human world, you take care to avoid snakes and poisonous spiders as well as lions and tigers and panthers, there are creatures in the fairy world that you need to avoid or at least be wary of.”
“Will we come back again, Mother?” Mary asked.
“Yes - yes, we will,” Ivy said, looking at Darrick.
He nodded slowly, “But only with either your mother or me. At least until you’ve learnt what to be careful of.”
Ivy could almost see Darrick’s relief as they stepped out of the Old Kingdom into the familiar forests of his youth.
“You really don’t have to worry so much, you know,” she said, smiling.
“Wasn’t it you who said we should beware of the who-thing?” he retorted.

Next: Zână
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

The Yara-ma-yha-who is a creature from Australian Aboriginal folklore. This creature resembles a little red man with a very big head and large mouth with no teeth. On the ends of its hands and feet are suckers. It lives in fig trees and does not hunt for food, but waits until an unsuspecting traveler rests under the tree. It then drops onto the victim and drains their blood using the suckers on its hands and feet, making them weak. It then consumes the person, drinks some water, and then takes a nap. When the Yara-ma-yha-who awakens, it regurgitates the victim, leaving it shorter than before. The victim's skin also has a reddish tint to it that it didn't have before.[1][2] It repeats this process several times. At length, the victim is transformed into a Yara-ma-yha-who itself. According to legend, the Yara-ma-yha-who will only prey upon a living person, so (hypothetically speaking) you could survive an encounter with this monster by "playing-dead" until sunset; the creature only hunts during the day.

#atozchallenge: xiuhcoatl

Previous: Wyrm

“Oh, don’t listen to him. He’s a codgery old snake who doesn’t believe in his own mortality,” a voice spoke out after the beat of the Great Wyrm’s wings had quietened to a whisper. Out from under covering of the ancient yew, a turquoise serpent slithered. Wisps of smoke rose from the dry grass as he approached the assembly. “I may not be as ancient as him, but I know well enough what you’re talking about.”
“Who are you?” the Fairy Queen asked pointedly.
“See, my point exactly. I am Xiuhcoatl. You’ll most probably have never heard of me because my people, the Aztecs, have long died out. But I lived on because my likeness was carved in stone and my story was inscribed on crumbling walls and when the people of the future found them and retold them, I was reborn. Sometimes I feel I cling on to life by the skin of my non-existent teeth just because there are people who curate stories, who study cultures and who determine that whatever happens, these things must be remembered. Some were not so fortunate. I have lost many colleagues to the void.”
“Do you believe me now, O Queen?” Baba Yaga turned to the Fairy Queen.
The Queen sighed, slumping tiredly on her throne. “I must believe you, mustn’t I? But tell me then, how will these two… girls change anything in the world?”
Darrick gripped his daughters’ hands tightly.
“Give them the freedom of these lands. Give them the right of entrance, the right to be entranced at every step of the way. Let their imaginations run wild. Let them learn of us - all of us - and tell of us to their friends. Let them speak of us at every opportunity, write of us in every story, until our stories are told all around the world. Will you do that, Jane and Mary?”
“Of course we will!” Mary said eagerly.
Jane looked instead to her mother. “My friends say that when we tell these tales we tell lies of ourselves. That we make ourselves - our human selves - small and weak, as if we must always look to something magical to save us. They say that we can save ourselves without the need of magic. The real world is all that we need.”
Ivy smiled. “What do you think?”
She thought for a while, biting on her lower lip. “I think that stories help us remember the important things in life. And maybe we don’t need magical beings to save us, but hearing what they’ve done may stir up courage in us to act like them and be our own magic.”
Xiuhcoatl slithered up to her. “And what would you tell them about me?”
Jane shrugged. “I suppose I would need to find out more about you to tell them anything.”
“You could make me a wise and courageous snake who saved your life.”
“But that would be a lie.”
“Aren’t all stories lies?”
Jane shook her head. “No. Stories are the truth dressed up in other clothes.”
Baba Yaga smiled. “But there are always two sides to a story.”

Next: Yara-ma-yha-who
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

In Aztec religion, Xiuhcoatl [ʃiʍˈkoːaːt͡ɬ] was a mythological serpent, it was regarded as the spirit form of Xiuhtecuhtli, the Aztec fire deity, and was also an atlatl wielded by Huitzilopochtli. Xiuhcoatl is a Classical Nahuatl word that literally translates as "turquoise serpent"; it also carries the symbolic and descriptive meaning, "fire serpent".
Xiuhcoatl was a common subject of Aztec art, including illustrations in Aztec codices and its use as a back ornament on representations of both Xiuhtecuhtlu and Huitzilopochtli.[1] Xiuhcoatl is interpreted as the embodiment of the dry season and was the weapon of the sun.[2]The royal diadem (or xiuhuitzolli, "pointed turquoise thing") of the Aztec emperors apparently represented the tail of the Xiuhcoatl, the fire serpent.[3]

#atozchallenge: Unicorn

Previous: Trolls

The Fairy Queen and Elven King continued their dance of glares. Her face was beautiful even in its austereness, like an exquisitely carved greek statue. The Elven King matched her stare for stare, unblinking in his sternness.
Ivy went to stand by her husband. Jane, looking once hesitantly at Euthalia, stepped up beside them.
“And we are complete,” Ivy whispered in the silence. Time itself seemed to drag its feet as the monarchs stood locked in battle.
“Not quite –“ Darrick said.
“Oh, we are,” Ivy said with a knowing smile. “She comes.”
A glimmer of a frown crossed Darrick’s face. “You brought Mary here? How?”
Ivy shook her head. “See the imps at the edges of the crowd? If they’re here, it means Mary has left home. I wonder…”
“Those imps! They’re the ones who dragged me into all of this!”
“They? How?”
“They asked me to follow them here on some mission for a witch!”
Ivy laughed aloud. Everyone turned to look, even the King and Queen.
“Oh, Mother. How your rule of law fails!”
“This is not a matter for laughter, Iliana. Are you quite mad? Has being with this – this half-elf made you crazy?”
“Darrick has broken no law, Mother. The imps, those blessed rascals, invited him into the Old Kingdom.”
“It is settled then,” Alexei the centaur announced. “No law has been broken. This court is adjourned.” As one, the centaurs turned to leave.
“Charon!”
The centaurs stopped. Charon turned in the direction of the voice. A stately white horse with a single horn in the middle of its head trotted up to him, bearing Mary on his back.
“Why are you here?” Charon asked, casting a worried glance at Alexei. He could hear Euthalia laughing behind him.
“The unicorn called me. My –“
“Mary!”
“Mother! Father!” Mary slid off the unicorn, running to her parents.
“How did you come? And why?” Ivy asked as Darrick hugged her close.
“I heard your voice on the wind. You were calling to me. So – so I thought I’d go back to the place where I saw Charon last night. But I couldn’t. The trees wouldn’t let me,” she gave Euthalia a baleful look. “I tried to walk around the trees – I walked for so long, and the winds were getting so strong I was afraid I would be blown away. That was when the unicorn appeared. He told me to get on his back and he’d bring me in – oh, he’s gone!”
“Wait, Mary. You didn’t tell me anything about Charon this morning.”
“Oh! Oh dear,” she blushed. “I wasn’t supposed to, well, I promised not to tell.” She stole a look at Charon who was frowning at her. Alexei beckoned him angrily.
“And who is this, Iliana?” the Fairy Queen asked.
“This is my second born,” Ivy replied. The little family drew together in the midst of the fairy creatures.
“So. You were the second intruder,” the Queen said. There was a slight trace of rancour in her voice. “And I suppose I have no recourse against your intrusion either, seeing as you are… of my blood.”
“The question I have is who was calling for you in my voice?” Ivy said, looking at Mary thoughtfully.

Next: Vila
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

The unicorn is a legendary animal that has been described since antiquity as a beast with a large, pointed, spiraling horn projecting from its forehead. The unicorn was depicted in ancient seals of the Indus Valley Civilization and was mentioned by the ancient Greeksin accounts of natural history by various writers, including Ctesias, Strabo, Pliny the Younger, and Aelian.[1] The Bible also describes an animal, the re'em, which some translations have rendered with the word unicorn.[1]
In European folklore, the unicorn is often depicted as a white horselike or goatlike animal with a long horn and cloven hooves (sometimes a goat's beard). In the Middle Ages and Renaissance, it was commonly described as an extremely wild woodlandcreature, a symbol of purity and grace, which could only be captured by a virgin. In the encyclopedias its horn was said to have the power to render poisoned water potable and to heal sickness. In medieval and Renaissance times, the horn of the narwhal was sometimes sold as unicorn horn.

---

Final week to enter the giveaway!
Here's the rafflecopter again! (Or you can just check the page up there)


a Rafflecopter giveaway

#atozchallenge: Sylph

Previous: Ragana

The fairy flew around the place where she had been standing, looking confused. After a few passes, she flew back to the adlet. The old woman gazed upon him and chuckled. It has been a long time, my friend, but Baba Yaga remembers. Do you?
She watched the proceedings for a while, frowning a little at displeasure to discover her story being told by the Leanen Sidhe, but she hadn’t sworn her to silence. Still, what was the adlet waiting for? Was he so hopeless he still could not find the answer? Or maybe he’d given up and was happy to remain as he was. She hadn’t thought about that.
“You’re still here.”
Baba Yaga turned to look at the beautiful creature that hovered in the air beside her. “Yes.”
“Why do you not show yourself to the court? Are you afraid?”
“Why do you not show yourself to the court?” Baba Yaga asked in return.
“It has nothing to do with me. Whether the man lives or dies, he cannot harm a sylph so we do not care about his fate, not like the others. Why then should I stand in attendance?” The sylph yawned.
“Does he not?”
The sylph gestured vaguely. “He has not thus far.”
“But what if he does in the future?”
“Then he dies along with us, so we care not either.”
“What a strange stance to take.”
“Well? I have answered your question. Will you not return the favour?”
“Ah, well. I have my reasons. I am not afraid, and yet, I will not go where my words are not welcome. I feel in my heart that the Queen will not welcome my presence now.”
“That is true. Her anger still burns. Are you not a creature of the fairy folk?”
The old crone cackled. “I am, but I am not.”
“Like the elves?”
A look akin to envy crossed the woman’s face. “Alike and not yet alike. We share a similar fate - one your queen has not yet come to terms with.”
“Interesting,” the sylph said. “Well, I will go then. It seems they have settled on something, I cannot tell what.” With that, she flew away.
Baba Yaga turned her attention again to the court.

Darrick had recovered his colour and most of his composure. He sat between Jane and Euthalia, listening with horror to Ivy’s tale. He remembered well his long illness that baffled the village’s best healers. He had steadily lost strength for no reason, slipping in and out of dreams, never knowing what was real or what was not. And suddenly, he had sat up one morning feeling better. His recovery was touted as a miracle, his wife had told him it was the herbs she had been giving him. The herbs she had been relying on more and more.
“Don’t worry, Father. Everything will be alright,” Jane said, giving him a look. It was the look he’d seen many time on Ivy’s face - calm, knowing, assured, telling him that he was fretting for nothing.
“How will we get out from here?” he surveyed the centaurs that guarded them. They looked grim. In the far distance, he saw the ogre and shuddered.


Next: Trolls
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

Sylph (also called sylphid) is a mythological spirit of the air.[1] The term originates in Paracelsus, who describes sylphs as invisible beings of the air, his elementals of air.[2] There is no known substantial mythos associated with them.

#atozchallenge: Ragana

Previous: (Fairy) Queen

Ataneq sat at the edge of the court, watching both with fear and relief. Relief that he hadn’t been called out for judgement, as Euthalia had, fear for the life of his friends. Petals came to settle on his shoulder.
“See, I told you she was angry,” she said.
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. I just said I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“You could have delivered her to the Queen and forgone the growing of her anger.”
“Would you betray your own house guests?” he asked pointedly. Petals didn’t answer, but shifted uncomfortably. He saw the phoenix fly into the court, wondering at its beauty, but before he could point out the bird to Petals, there was a loud sound, and a sharp, bright light. He threw up his hands to cover his face. All around him, the different fairy folk stirred and talked, and he turned to look at the tall woman, face as grim as the queen’s who stood with an arm around Jane.
He stared in wonder, but something else caught his eye. Far beyond the throne, half hidden in the recesses of the wood, an old crone stood, silently watching.
“Do you see what I see?” he said quietly to Petals. “Just there, behind the Great Yew.”
“Hmmm,” Petals hummed to herself. “I have seen her before. She wanders these woods quite often, with two or three others.”
“What do they call them?”
“I believe in their language they are Ragana. Minor witches who deal in herblore and hedge magics.”
Ataneq looked at her carefully again, but it was too far to make out her features clearly.
“Do they ever travel alone?”
Petals shrugged. “Not that I’ve seen. Now that you say it, it is a little strange.” With that, the fairy zipped away. Ataneq turned his attention back to the court.

“So you finally return, Iliana,” The Queen said.
“Return, Mother? No, I come to claim back what is mine.”
“Yours? Impossible.”
“Did you not have human lovers before, mother? Am I not a child of one your unions?”
“But far in the land of man without the strength of our powers, how do you not consume him? How is he still alive?”
“That is a tale not for this court, Mother. Restore him to me and I will tell you of it one day.”
“No, tell me now or he does not leave alive.”
Ivy looked down at her husband. “Jane, take care of your father,” she said before answering the Queen’s summons.

He was fading, and I had no clue how to keep him alive, when there was a knock on my door. The imps answered it, divining that it was a fairy creature. An old crone entered my house and walked right into our bedchamber.
“What do you want?” I asked her, both angry and distressed.
“Do you treat those who would help you this way, Leanen Sídhe?” she said mildly.
“Can you help? How? Who are you and how do you know who I am?”
“Oh, the Ragana can help you, sure enough. That is your name for us, is it not?”
I told her frankly then that I had never seen hide nor hair of the Ragana in years and knew nothing about them but a name. 
“Oh, we are old crones, we are, we keep to ourselves, we do. But I divined that you needed help this night. And so here I am.”
“What do you wish for in return?”
“Ah, the price, always the price. You are wise to ask first. I ask for safe passage in the Old Kingdom, for as long as I shall need it.”
I wanted to ask her why she could not ask you herself, but I felt in my heart she had reasons of her own. So I assented. “For as long as you shall need it, and not a moment more.”
“You drive a hard bargain. Ah, well. But that will suit my purposes.” 
That night she taught me her herblore - medicinal flowers, herbs that protect, herbs that strengthen, roots that deaden your need for power. I have lived as a human for long enough that my secondborn is of almost pure human blood. But my firstborn has inherited, as all firstborns will. How he survived until the night I learnt the Ragana’s craft, I do not know. For only once I staunched the need for lifeblood did realise how much I drew of him.


Next: Sylph
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

Ragana, is an old looking female, or witch. Mostly has dark intentions and powers to control forces of nature. They probably were old ladies living by the forest, having a good knowledge of plants and their use for medical and other purposes

#atozchallenge: (Fairy) Queen

Previous: Phoenix

The Queen in her anger was a sight to behold. She stood tall - taller than Darrick, almost as tall as the ogre - with bronze curls that reached to her waist. Her skin was fair, like light cream, touched with pink carnation anger. She watched with flashing black eyes as Darrick, Jane and Euthalia were escorted into her presence.
It was unlike any court that Jane could ever have imagined. She remembered the hard stone of their village courthouse, the thick, scored wood of the whipping post, the smell of fear and blood, the mud and dirt and hopelessness that underlay every thing. Here, lush, thick grass, soft to the foot, was ringed by great trees. An ancient yew stood prominently at the head of the circle, under which the Fairy Queen stood by her throne of silver. She could feel the anger emanating from the Queen, and yet the calm of the Council of Centaurs pervaded the place, seeking to placate it, if not turn it aside.
“What do we do, Father?” she whispered.
“I do not know.” He looked haggard in the light, an anxiety she could not fathom on his face. What she felt was a lightening of her spirit, as if a great joy was descending upon her.
“You’re glowing,” Euthalia said with astonishment.
“Am I?” Jane almost giggled. “I feel so - so powerful.”
The Queen raised her hands.
“Let the prisoners be brought forward,” she called in a dark and terrible voice. Jane’s heart resonated with its power, drawing strength from it even as her father paled and faded beside her. It was he who now gripped her hand in terror as they stepped forward to the raised dais.
“What are we charged with, O Queen?” she found herself speaking.
“Trespass and breaking of the treaty,” she proclaimed, but a glimmer of uncertainty had entered her eyes. “What are you, human? You appear strange to my eyes.”
“What am I?” Jane laughed. “I do not know. I have not felt this before; I do not know what it means.”
“No matter. You have still trespassed where you have not been invited to enter.”
“Did I? I came here by accident, I admit. But I have felt nothing but welcome in my spirit.”
“And what of you, O man, O ancient enemy?” The Queen turned her face towards the cowering Darrick. “What excuse do you have?”
“I -” he tried to speak, but he could not claw the words from his throat.
“So you admit! You came unbidden, breaking our treaty, breaking our laws. Your life is forfeit to me!” A cruel smile spread over the Fairy Queen’s face. She lifted her hand, a long knife appearing in it, standing ready to strike.
“Let all witness!” she cried, her hand falling. There was a bright flash and confusion, and when everyone could see again, the Queen still stood with her arm upraised. Darrick lay unharmed in his daughter’s shadow, a phoenix by her side.
“Well done, daughter,” the phoenix whispered as it fluttered down to the ground.
“What sorcery is this?” the Queen asked. The bird shimmered and in its place stood a young woman.
“Hello, mother,” Ivy said, laying an arm around Jane’s shoulders.

Next: Ragana
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

The Fairy Queen or Queen of the Fairies was a figure from English folklore who was believed to rule the fairies. Based onShakespeare's influence, she is often named as Titania or Mab. In Irish folklore, the last High Queen of the Daoine Sidhe - and wife of the High King Finvarra - was named Oona (or Oonagh, or Una, or Uonaidh etc.). In the ballad tradition of Northern England and Lowland Scotland, she was called the Queen of Elphame.
The character is also associated with the name Morgan (as with the Arthurian character of Morgan Le Fey, or Morgan of the Fairies), Meave, and L'annawnshee (literally, Underworld Fairy). In the Child Ballads Tam Lin (Child 39) and Thomas the Rhymer (Child 37), she is represented as both beautiful and seductive, and also as terrible and deadly. The Fairy Queen is said to pay a tithe to Hell every seven years, and her mortal lovers often provide this sacrifice.

#atozchallenge: Phoenix

Previous: Ogre

Ivy heard a long, piercing shriek from the kitchen and came out of her room running.
“Mother! Help!” Mary cried as she huddled on the table, looking at a sea of little faces that blinked at her.
“You have done it? Where is she?” Ivy demanded.
“Mother?”
“Hush child, don’t be afraid.” The imps made a path for her as she walked over to her younger daughter and hugged her close. “Well?” she demanded.
“We found her. She is in the Old Kingdom.”
“Why didn't you bring her back? Is she safe?”
“You asked us to find her, not to bring her back,” the imp said with annoyance. “She is safe with her father.”
“Her father!” Ivy exclaimed, turning pale. “He is there?”
“Yes. Now about that matter of payment…” The imp grinned.
“What is it you want?” Ivy’s thoughts kept turning to Darrick. He will die before I get to him, he will die unless someone intervenes. Oh Mother, what will you do in your anger?
“The firstborn of the firstborn is sacrosanct. But will you release your secondborn to us?”
“What?” Ivy focused again on the imps. “What do you want of her?” She held Mary close, young Mary who stared at them with bewildered eyes, and looked at her mother as if she had never seen the woman before.
“To cook for us, to slave for us, to do the many things we have done for you all your life!”
Ivy glared down at them and they withered.
“You know we joke, Leanen Sídhe!”
“I begin to wonder. What is it you need?”
“As we have always needed.”
Ivy sighed. She beckoned Mary, who clambered down from the table and stood beside her mother, gripping her hand tightly.
With slow, clear words, Ivy incanted:

The protection of this house is yours, now and forever more.
Our sustenance is yours for as long as you need,
Our lives are pledged as friend to friend
That those who come against you will face our wrath.

The silence grew heavy as her words hung in the rafters, absorbing themselves in the wood. With quiet nods, the imps disappeared into the woodwork. Ivy felt a great weariness fall over her, and she leaned on Mary as she stumbled to a chair. Her daughter still stared at her wide-eyed.
“You have seen a lot of things I did not wish for you to know of yet,’ Ivy said gently. “And you will have to see more that I cannot hide from you. For now, will you make my tea? I have need of great strength.”
As Mary set the kettle to boil and mixed the special strengthening brew of herbs her mother relied on, Ivy sat staring at the fire. “The imps will not harm you. They will listen to you as my daughter. Do you feel safe here alone?”
“Yes, mother,” Mary answered as she placed the cup in her mother’s hand.
Ivy smiled as she caressed her face. “I am going to do a dangerous thing. Your father is in danger and this is the only way I can think of to get to him fast enough.” She held the cup in trembling hands, and took a long draught.
“Can I come with you?”
“I wish you could, but I do not know how.” Draining her cup, she took a handful of the herbs and threw them in the fire, muttering words under her breath. “Do not be afraid, Mary. Look for us when the sun sets.” With that, she threw herself into the fire.
Mary screamed as the fire seemed to greet and envelop Ivy. The bright shimmering blinded her and when she opened her eyes again, a beautiful, crested bird stepped out of the fire, seemingly surrounded by a halo of light. Then it unfurled its wings and flew away.

Next: (Fairy) Queen
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

In Greek mythology, a phoenix or phenix (Ancient Greek φοίνιξ phóinīx) is a long-lived bird that is cyclically regenerated or reborn. Associated with the sun, a phoenix obtains new life by arising from the ashes of its predecessor. The phoenix was subsequently adopted as a symbol in Early Christianity. While the phoenix typically dies by fire in most versions of the legend, there are less popular versions of the myth in which the mythical bird dies and simply decomposes before being born again.[1] Herodotus, Lucan, Pliny the Elder, Pope Clement I, Lactantius, Ovid, and Isidore of Seville are among those who have contributed to the retelling and transmission of the phoenix motif.
In his study of the phoenix, R. van der Broek summarizes, that, in the historical record, the phoenix "could symbolize renewal in general as well as the sun, time, the empire, metempsychosis, consecration, resurrection, life in the heavenly Paradise, Christ, Mary, virginity, the exceptional man, and certain aspects of Christian life".[2]

#atozchallenge: Ogre

Previous: Naiads

The ugly creature that descended upon them in a crash of armour was taller than Darrick by at least two heads.
“What is that?” Darrick asked Euthalia, who was hissing like an angry cat.
“That’s an Ogre. There are very few of them left after the massacre. The ones who survived hate humans with a passion.”
The ogre roared. “Fee Fi Fo Fum. I smell the blood of an Englishman.” He stooped to stare Darrick in the eye.
"You." His eyes narrowed. "How DARE you enter my Kingdom! After all you have done to me, you still show your face?"
Darrick returned the stare in confusion.
"No words on your lips, human? Nothing to say before my ogre crunches your bones?"
"The Fairy Queen is talking to you through the ogre," Euthalia said through gritted teeth. "It would be to your credit to answer her."
“I know not what I have done to you, Your Majesty,” Darrick replied with a formal bow.
“Hah, formality and lies will get you nowhere. What are you doing in my realm?”
“My presence here was one of necessity. I would not have come except for great need.”
“Hmph. What need was that?”
“My daughter… was lost. But I have found her now and our presence need not burden you anymore.”
“Your daughter?” The ogre seemed to contemplate. His attention turned to Jane, who shrunk back behind her father. “Impossible. You lie.”
“I do not lie! She is my daughter.”
“Impossible! She cannot have children, not in your way. I do not know whose child this is, but it cannot be hers. Why do you insist on lying to me? Do you welcome your death?”
Darrick stared helplessly at the ogre’s bared teeth. “I’m not lying. I do not long for death, but I do not know who you talk about. Surely not about Euthalia? Jane is my child as sure as day is day.”
By now, multitudes of different creatures had gathered around them. The naiads stood behind them, blocking their way to the stream. Jane caught sight of the kelpie who winked at her and tossed his mane. Nymphs of all sorts circled them, whispering like the leaves. In their wake, the trees bent to each other, as if hemming the two humans in. The Ghillie Dhu sat frowning at them, especially Euthalia who still stood defiantly by Darrick. Different fairy folk zipped through the sky, winking in and out of sight. Jane thought she saw Petals sitting on a high branch, smiling smugly, but when she turned to look properly, the fairy had disappeared.
“Don’t claim ignorance. You have broken the treaty and will die by my law. No one can begrudge me that!” The ogre reached for his club and raised it high.
“Consider long, my Queen,” a voice spoke up. A stately centaur strode in between the ogre and Darrick. “Will you not hold fair trial in the Queen’s court? Will our fair folk then have cause to say that the Queen does not abide by law and justice? What if his family makes claim against you?”
“Why do you plague me, Alexei?” The Queen growled through the ogre.
“I remind you of what is fair. Isn’t that our role as the Council? Wasn’t it our wisdom that you sought?”
“Fine. So be it. Take them to court. That dryad included.” The ogre pointed a thick finger at Euthalia.
Solemnly, the centaurs surrounded the three of them.
“I’m sorry, but you will come with us,” Alexei said. Darrick nodded in assent. They followed the centaurs deeper into the Old Fairy Kingdom.
“What took you so long?” Euthalia whispered to one of the centaurs.
“Sorry, I had a hard time understanding what your messenger was saying,” Charon replied with a shrug.
The ogre watched them pass by with malice.

Next: Phoenix
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

An ogre (feminine ogress) is a being usually depicted as a large, hideous, manlike monster that eats human beings. Ogres frequently feature in mythology, folklore, and fiction throughout the world. They appear in many classic works ofliterature, and are most often described in fairy tales and folklore as eating babies.
In visual art, ogres are often depicted as inhumanly large and tall and having a disproportionately large head, abundant hair, unusually colored skin, a voracious appetite, and a strong body. Ogres are closely linked with giants and with human cannibals in mythology. In both folklore and fiction, giants are often given ogrish traits (such as the giants in "Jack and the Beanstalk" and "Jack the Giant Killer", the Giant Despair in The Pilgrim's Progress, and thejötnar of Norse mythology); while ogres may be given giantish traits.

#atozchallenge: Naiads

Previous: Mermaids

Jane stifled a scream when a hand landed on her shoulder.
“There – I’ve found you. The naiads were actually right,” Euthalia said. “You know how fluid they tend to be with places and times. I looked for you at the adlet’s house, but you’d left. The trees said that you’d gone to the river, so I returned, but the Ghillie Dhu had wandered off somewhere and the only ones who would tell me anything were the naiads. Some of these nymphs! Althea is such a bad influence on them; just because the Ghillie Dhu said I’d done the right thing, she’s gone and told all the nymphs not to speak to me anymore! Why, what’s the matter?”
“My father -” Jane looked back to where she’d last seen him, but they were long gone.
“He’s looking for you, I know. Your sister told me last night. That’s why I was looking for you. I’m sorry I took so long -”
“No - he was just there when you startled me.”
Euthalia looked to where Jane was pointing and shrugged. “Well, let’s follow after him then. Didn’t he see you?”
“Hold on. Before we go anywhere with you, who are you?” Ataneq asked. “How do you know so much about Jane?”
Euthalia introduced herself and told them briefly about her meeting with Mary the night before and then listened as Jane described what she had just seen.
“Come on then - we don’t want to lose him. I’d rather get you out first, of course, but it sounds like he’s in trouble.”
The three of them set off in the general direction the imps were headed in. They soon found themselves back at the stream. Jane watched warily for the kelpie to appear. Instead a translucent girl stepped out of the waters and stared at them. Jane shied away.
“Is she dangerous?” the girl asked Euthalia.
Euthalia shrugged. “Are you?”
“Is she a naiad?” Jane whispered to Ataneq. He nodded.
“She’s really pretty.”
“Come on, stop whispering. They’re headed this way,” Euthalia called as she ran ahead of them. Jane and Ataneq sprinted to catch up.

The imps stopped, backing into a circle, with Darrick in the middle.
“Have you found your senses, elf-man?”
Darrick nodded, his eyes clear again.
“Good. We need all the help we can get.” The imps released him and he sat up, rubbing his head. Silently, he surveyed the naiads that streamed out of the water to surround them.
“What do they want?” he asked.
“We don’t know.”
“Why do you come here?” they seemed to speak with one voice, a low dulcet sound. “Why do you carry the wrath of the Queen to our fair banks? Why do you come here, hated of all? Who gave you permission to enter our land?”
The women circled them, drawing nearer and nearer.
Darrick swallowed hard. “What do we do?”
The imps chattered amongst themselves, a cacophony of sound that rose higher and shriller.
“Stop!” A voice rang out amidst the noise. As one, the naiads turn to face the newcomer.
“Leave him alone,” Euthalia cried. “Back, back to your waters, my friends. Keep your hands pure and clean.”
Hesitantly the naiads moved as Euthalia urged them.
“Why should we listen to you?” one asked as she returned to the stream. “The Queen is angry. She comes! She comes.” With that final cry, the naiads disappeared into the stream.
In the tense silence, they could hear a heavy thumping in the distance. A sob escaped Jane’s throat as she ran to her father. Darrick held her in a tight embrace.
“We are off now! Our mission is over! The Witch’s daughter has been found. Goodbye!” The imps scurried off in a rush, leaving Darrick bewildered. The dryad stood staring worriedly into the distance.
“What’s going on, Euthalia?” Darrick asked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” she replied.
The thumps grew steadily nearer.

Next: Ogre
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

In Greek mythology, the Naiads (Ancient Greek: Ναϊάδες) were a type of nymph (female spirit) who presided over fountains, wells, springs, streams, brooks and other bodies of fresh water.

#atozchallenge: Mermaids

Previous: Leanen Sidhe

Past the clearing, the imps tramped steadily through the forest.
“What’s that?” Darrick asked suddenly.
“Eh? Don’t hear anything,” the chatty imp replied.
“Don’t you hear that singing?”
“Nope, we’re talking too loudly to hear anything,” another imp snickered.
Darrick scanned the surroundings as he followed, soon realising that he could hear the crash of waves in the distance. A haunting melody pierced his soul over the sound of the sea. Like one in a trance, he broke away from the company of the imps, floundering through the underbrush until he stumbled onto soft white sand. Far ahead of him, three mermaids sang as they played in the water. Slowly he stepped nearer, not wanting to disturb them.
Then one saw him, pointed and laughed. The song stopped as all three mermaids stopped and stared at him.
“Don’t stop,” he said.
“Who are you?” the green-eyed one asked. Her bronze hair curled down to her waist and she swished her tail like a cat.
“Darrick.”
“Would you like to follow us, Darrick, to our underwater halls?”
He hesitated.
“What’s the matter?”
His brow furrowed as he thought. “Jane.” He finally managed to say. “I need to find Jane.”
“You can look for Jane after you’ve visited,” the mermaid said. Beside her, her two sisters started to sing again.
Darrick took a fumbling step forward. “But -”
“It’ll only be a while, I promise. You’ve never seen anything like it.”
His stumbling steps soon took him to the water’s edge and he’d just started to splash into the waters when with a shout, the imps came pouring out of the forest.
The clamour seemed to wake Darrick out of his stupor, but his eyes remained slightly glazed.
“His man-side is much stronger than his elfblood,” his imp friend commented.
The mermaids hissed at them, making their song stronger, trying to lure Darrick further into the water. Darrick frowned, concentrating on the imps in front of him, shaking his head, trying to clear it.
“And again we save the elf-man,” one of the imps commented as they swarmed over him, dragging him away from the water.

Jane stood panting at the edge of the forest. “Did we lose them?”
“I - I think so,” Ataneq looked over his shoulder.
They’d left the stream a while ago, and Jane was fairly sure that the horse-thing had stopped then. She wasn’t sure about the person covered in leaves. There seemed to be a commotion happening by the shore ahead of them and Jane drew back, trying not to draw attention to themselves. Half hidden by a large tree, she saw a few mermaids swimming away and sighed with relief. Whether or not they were friendly, she felt that the less fairy creatures she met the better. But the rest of the ruckus seemed to be coming towards them now, and with a feeling of frustration, Ataneq and Jane headed deeper into the forest, out of their path, and hid in a clump of bushes.
The little people were dragging a large man by his shoulders. They had tied his hands and feet together and were grumbling about how it had turned out to be a bad idea to invite him along in the end. Jane drew further back into the bushes. It was only after they had passed and she stuck out her head a little to see if it was safe to come out did she catch sight of their captive’s face.
“Father?”

Next: Naiads
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

A mermaid is a legendary aquatic creature with the upper body of a female human and the tail of a fish.[1] Mermaids appear in thefolklore of many cultures worldwide, including the Near East, Europe, Africa and Asia. The first stories appeared in ancient Assyria, in which the goddess Atargatis transformed herself into a mermaid out of shame for accidentally killing her human lover. Mermaids are sometimes associated with perilous events such as floods, storms, shipwrecks and drownings. In other folk traditions (or sometimes within the same tradition), they can be benevolent or beneficent, bestowing boons or falling in love with humans.

#atozchallenge: Leanen Sídhe

Previous: Kelpie

“Why do you search for the Witch’s daughter?” They’d been walking for hours through the forest, making an incessant racket. Darrick figured he might as well add to it since he had nothing else to do.
The imp beside him looked at him with a confused expression. “Because the Witch asked us to.”
“Oh. So it’s true then, that the imps answer to witches?”
The imp shrugged. “Most. But mainly to this one.”
“Why’s that?”
The confused expression on the imp’s face turned to curiosity. “Because she is also Leanen Sídhe. Did you not know?”
“Leanen what?” Darrick had a vague feeling that he was supposed to know who the imp was referring to.
The imp chuckled. “Oh, he does not know! The elf-man does not know!”
“What do you mean?”
“The Witch is Leanen Sídhe. She is of the fairy folk. In fact, elf-man, she is the daughter of the Fairy Queen, the reason of the Queen’s hatred of the race of men! Oh, the horrid humans who stole her precious daughter far, far away!”
“The Queen hates humans?”
“Oh, with an undying hatred. If she catches the Witch’s daughter or her husband, there is no knowing what she will do!” He chuckled with glee.
And Jane is in there, Darrick thought, a queasy feeling in his stomach. “How much longer until we get into this Fairyland?”
“Almost there, impatient one.”
They stopped at a large clearing surrounded by oaks. Darrick looked around, his eyes narrowing. He recognised this place. It was here, more than twenty years ago, that he had first seen his wife.

He run so far for so long that he didn’t know where he was anymore. He almost fell to the ground in exhaustion, his tiredness for once overpowering his grief. Why would anyone raid his village in the night and slaughter all his family but him? What had he done to deserve this? Why was he still alive? His father was dead. His mother had died in his arms this morning. His little sister, sweet Adele Adanessa, barely six, had been hacked to pieces before his very eyes. He lay himself at the foot of a great oak, inviting Father Oak to take him into his bosom.
“What are you doing here, child?” a soft feminine voice woke him up.
He looked at the young woman standing over him. “Child? You can’t be more than a year older than me.”
“Is that so?” she smirked. “How old are you? You huddle into that little piece of ground like a twelve-year-old.”
“I’m fifteen,” he got to his feet angrily. “What do you want?”
“Is that how you talk to girls?” 
Darrick looked down at his feet. “No, sorry,” he said. 
She laughed. 
“What’s so funny?” He looked up again looking into her eyes.
“You’re blushing.”
Darrick opened his mouth, but couldn’t find anything to say.
“Anyway, as I was saying, what are you doing here?”
“Uh - I got lost,” he replied. 
“Hm, I can tell. Come on, I’ll show you the way home.”
Darrick followed her through a clearing onto a clearly marked forest path.
“Just follow this path. You’ll get home soon enough.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh, I have ways. I’ve been there before.”
“I’ve never seen you before.”
“Maybe I didn’t let you.”
“Will - will I see you again?”
She smiled, winked and walked away.

Darrick felt a tinge of guilt. He should have gone home and told Ivy what he was doing. Or he could have sent a note. She would be worrying herself half to death by now.

Next: Mermaids
Back to the theme list.

---

From Wikipedia:

In Celtic folklore, the Irish: leannán sí "Barrow-Lover" (Scottish Gaelic: leannan sìth; Manx: lhiannan shee; [lʲan̴̪-an ˈʃiː]) is a beautiful woman of the Aos Sí (people of the barrow or the fairy folk) who takes a human lover. Lovers of the leannán sídhe are said to live brief, though highly inspired, lives. The name comes from the Gaelic words for a sweetheart, lover, or concubine and the term for a barrow or fairy-mound.
The leannán sídhe is generally depicted as a beautiful muse, who offers inspiration to an artist in exchange for their love and devotion; however, this frequently results in madness for the artist, as well as premature death. W. B. Yeats popularized a slightly different perspective on these spirits with emphasis on their vampiric tendencies:[1]

The Leanhaun Shee (fairy mistress) seeks the love of mortals. If they refuse, she must be their slave; if they consent, they are hers, and can only escape by finding another to take their place. The fairy lives on their life, and they waste away. Death is no escape from her. She is the Gaelic muse, for she gives inspiration to those she persecutes. The Gaelic poets die young, for she is restless, and will not let them remain long on earth—this malignant phantom.

---

 If you haven't had a chance yet, check out the giveaway page!

#atozchallenge: Kelpies

Previous: Jaculus

“Slow down, Ataneq!” Jane called as she ran after the adlet. “I can’t run as fast as you.”
Ataneq grinned back at her. “You have useless human legs. You should grow two more, like me!” He slowed down, allowing her to catch up.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a fine day, and you can’t do anything until the portal opens so we might as well enjoy the day.”
“What if - what if the Queen comes after me?”
“Ah, but that’s why we left my cottage. She would go there first, see? So now we keep moving until she is so tired she can’t keep up!”
Jane looked at him with some misgiving. “Can’t she track us?”
Ataneq shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
They soon came to a rushing river. Ataneq plunged into the icy water. Jane sat down by the bank. She watched the adlet splash around idly for a while, then looked further up the stream. To her astonishment, she saw a white horse with a sky blue mane swimming in the river towards them. Ataneq saw it as the same time and stared at it with his mouth open.
“What is that?” Jane called out Ataneq.
“I - I don’t know,” he replied. It ignored the adlet, heading instead towards the bank.
She wasn’t sure if it was a trick of her eyes, but it seemed, faintly, that the horse’s mane was constantly dripping with water, occasionally curling up like a thick mist.
“Aren’t you beautiful,” Jane said in awe.
“Of course I am,” the horse answered, with a little derisive snort. “Want to go for a ride?”
Jane blushed. “You - I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know you could. Uh well.”
Ataneq laughed. “I thought you’d know by now that this isn’t quite back home, Jane.”
“Jane, is it? That’s a nice name. Come on, want to go for a ride?”
“Well, I - I don’t know how to ride.” Jane wished she could stop stammering, but the beautiful horse in front of her was making her wits confused. “I mean, I’ve never ridden a horse.”
“A horse! I’m not a mere horse,” the creature neighed. “I am the water horse, the Ceffyl Dŵr, the Bäckahästen, the Kelpie of these shores.”
“Yes, and a nuisance,” a voice spoke up from the trees. “I wish you’d go back to Scotland and leave me in peace.”
“Why not you go back, dear Ghillie Dhu and leave me here in peace?” the Kelpie snapped. “Or maybe you’ve forgotten that we’re not welcome there anymore.”
A dark-haired man dressed in leaves and mosses emerged yawning from a nearby copse. His eyes focused on Jane. “What are you doing back here? Didn’t Euthalia lead you home?”
Jane stared at him with a blank look. “Who’s Euthalia?”
“The dryad. She said she led you home last night.”
“She’s been with me in my cottage all night,” Ataneq said.
“Then who -” the Ghillie Dhu frowned. “Two humans in a day. This is not good.”
“How about a ride then?” the Kelpie said brightly.
“No, Kelpie, we don’t want her death on our hands,” the Ghillie Dhu said, still frowning at Jane.
“Well, I just thought I’d help the Queen a little. Her fairy folk are on the way anyway.”
Jane backed away, Ataneq flanking her.
“What do we do?” she asked him helplessly.

Next: Leanan sídhe
Back to the theme list
---

From Wikipedia:

The kelpie is a supernatural water horse from Celtic folklore that is believed to haunt the rivers and lochs of Scotland and Ireland; the name may be from Scottish Gaelic cailpeach or colpach "heifer, colt".
In mythology, the kelpie is described as a strong and powerful horse. It is a white and sky blue colour and appeared as a lost pony, but could be identified by its constantly dripping mane. Its mane and tail are a bit curly. Its skin was said to be like that of a seal, smooth but as cold as death when touched. Kelpies were said to transform into beautiful women to lure men into their traps. They created illusions to keep themselves hidden, keeping only their eyes above water to scout the surface.
The fable of the kelpie varies by region. The kelpie's mane is said to be a sky blue colour. The water horse is a common form of the kelpie, said to lure humans into the water to drown them. The water horse would encourage people to ride on its back, and once its victims fell into its trap, the water horse's skin would become adhesive and the horse would bear the victim into the river, dragging them to the bottom of the water and devouring them—except the heart or liver. A common Scottish tale is the story of nine children lured onto a kelpie's back, while a tenth kept his distance. The kelpie chased the tenth child, but he escaped. Another more gruesome variation on this tale is that the tenth child simply stroked the kelpie's nose but, when his hand stuck to it, he took a knife from his pocket and cut his own hand off, cauterizing it with wood from a nearby fire.