📚 › The Legend of Mævel

The Legend of Mævel, is part of the Duane’s lore, and tells about the ancient gods of Alienor…

So the Story goes...

Viewing 7 replies - 1 through 7 (of 7 total)
  • Author
    Replies
  • in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #282

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part I)

    as told by Cpt Bone to young Tomkin

    In the time of the Gods, the King of the Fairies, Aldurion, fell in love with a beautiful mortal named Theÿa.
    He wanted to make her his Queen but only the Elder Gods could bestow the gift of immortality upon mortals.
    So he went to see Ghört, the God of the Airs. Ghört could certainly grant him what he requested, but for that, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an air sprite. Aldurion wouldn’t be able to hold her again. So he declined the offer, and went to see another Elder God.
    Then, he went to see Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters. But Nærvel could grant him immortality if Theÿa was to be transformed into a water sprite. So Aldurion declined again.
    Then he went to see Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, and then Selvaniel the God of the Woods, and Margilonia the Goddess of the Earths. But all of their conditions were the same, Theÿa would have to be transformed into an immaterial and immortal elemental fairy. But Aldurion couldn’t bear to have her changed into something else than she was.

    Then, only one of the Elder Gods was left, the one than few of the Immortals dared talk to, and of whom most mortals were afraid, to the point of systematically using the Old Speech respectful form of address (“Shaint”), when referring to him.
    So Aldurion came to see Lejüs, God of the Forgotten.
    Lejüs was greatly pleased to see him. When Aldurion had finished exposing his request, Lejüs took a moment to ponder. Giving immortality was none of his wonts, as he was keeper of the Forgotten. But he was not without compassion, and seeing Aldurion’s plight, he offered to grant his wish at the condition that, not his wife, but their first born child, would become Forgotten.
    Aldurion was so hopeful that all he saw was that the condition seemed so small, based on a future event that perhaps wouldn’t even happen… All he wanted was to have Theÿa as a Queen, and so the deal was made.

    So became Theÿa Queen of the Fairies.

    A few God’s Years later, which meant in human years much more than a few years, Theÿa became pregnant.
    When she announced the news to Aldurion, he was suddenly reminded of the deal he had made with Lejüs, and was quite distraught, as he had not revealed it to Theÿa. But he remained quiet, hoping that Lejüs would have forgotten about the whole story (well, that was forgetting he was Keeper of the Forgotten).
    So Theÿa gave birth to a little baby girl fairy, with golden wavy hair and bright eyes. She, like her mother, had no wings, but there was magic in her. They named her Araoni.

    But Lejüs had not forgotten of course, and came to see the Royal couple to claim the baby. Aldurion pretended that the mother and baby was still very weak, and he would have to come back in a few God’s Days. Lejüs agreed, and left complaisantly.

    Aldurion was at a loss for solutions, but Theÿa was a fairy with lots of ruse, so he decided to reveal it all to her, hoping that she would have a solution.
    Theÿa asked him time to think about this, and told him not to worry.
    Later, she had an idea, quite brilliant she thought. All she had to do was to find another child to give Lejüs.
    So she gave baby Araoni to one of her diligent nurse, the old fairy Gretchÿa, telling her to find a house were a blond new born girl could be exchanged and proceed to the exchange of the babies.

    So Gretchÿa went across the lands of the Worlds, but only in one home she could find a blond baby girl. The new-born baby girl was almost dying, as the parents were a careless couple of peasants, already plagued with many children, and they could not bother with children hesitating to live.
    Gretchÿa was heart-broken when she did the exchange, promising to baby Araoni to get her back soon. The young human baby girl was weak and yet unnamed, and the old fairy nurse knew she would probably not live long, and be claimed by Shaint Lejüs. So all was good.

    When Lejüs came back, he smiled as he saw the baby girl, and left with her without much more words for the Royal couple.
    Lejüs smiled, for when he had taken the young baby, the parents had instantly forgotten about her, and so did everyone having ever known her…

    The human parents, surprised to see the condition of their baby improving beyond all hope, named her Mævel, which meant marvel of Maÿ the month in which she was born.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #323

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part II)

    The young fairy princess, whose secret name had been forgotten, and thus her very existence to whoever had known her, grew up as a beautiful child.
    Mævel she was, and the youngest of the clan too. Her delicate features stood out of the many children that Jorg and Ilga, her human parents already had, and they first saw her as probably their most useless child, being frail and unfit to the works of the woods. But she’d been saved from a sure death, and that had proved to them that the child was some odd gift from the Gods.

    Mævel looking at her brothers and sisters, was constantly reminded of how different she was, as small and fair and fragile as a sparfly’s egg. She helped her mother Ilga as much as she could in the kitchen, preparing meals for the clan. Her parents did not know how she could ever get a husband, as she would never be much of a great cook either.
    So, she was feeling not fulfilled by what she was doing. She loved her parents, and sisters, and brothers, but there was something else that she did not know how to express.
    During the springing and sunny seasons, and even the rainy and icy one, she would go after her works had been done to the little meadow brook, and watch for hours the little rosy trouts dancing in the clear waters.

    And much of her young years passed, and she learned how to cook, how to sew and how to wash clothes and many other tasks that could help the family. She had improved much in her skills and could do wonderful adornments to her sisters and brothers clothes. But noone cared about the adornments, which would be useless for them. But they loved their little sister nonetheless, though they did not understand.
    Soon, all the elder brothers left the house, one by one, and the sisters too. And as Mævel turned twenty one, she was left alone with old Jorg and old Ilga.

    That day, her parents had offered her a pearl white ribbon, for her to tie her hair, and they had thought it would probably please her, as it was as useless a thing as their mind could imagine. And indeed she was delighted by the gift, and to please her parents, she had danced and sung in the night, barefooted on the floorboard, her shiny golden hair swirling around her, as they both loved her to do.

    The next day, Mævel went to the brook to wash some clothes, when she noticed a reddish bluish spark of light coming from the forest nearby. How strange she thought. Perhaps it is only my imagination. But soon, a plaintiff cry came from the same direction, and she was deeply moved by the cry.
    Leaving her clothes to dry up, she went to the forest, knowing she could trust her instincts and that no wild beast would harm her. Calling to see if someone was there, a voice called her, crying “here, here!”

    Behind some fern trees, she was surprised as she saw a wounded blue fox. Was it the fox that had spoken?
    — Yes, that was me, answered the blue fox
    — Oh, a talking fox! You are wounded, aren’t you? asked Mævel
    — Yes, a stupid arrow from a stupid hunter… I can’t extract it, would you help me?
    — Of course, answered Mævel, hold on a second.

    And she leaned forward to draw the arrow from the fox’s leg, holding fast so that it would not hurt the creature. She was just knowing what to do, as if she had done it many times already. Then she drew out her white handkerchief, and bandaged the bleeding wound, tying it tightly with her pearl white ribbon.

    — I must leave now, said the fox, I am greatly indebted to you, young lady
    — Will you tell me your name?
    — I am called Blohmrik. And may I inquire as to your name?
    — I’m called Mævel, but you can call me Mæ
    — Such a lovely name…
    — How come you are a talking fox?
    — I was not always in the form that you see now. This form is due to a curse from the God of the Forgotten, from which I foolishly tried to stole secrets when I was a young god learning magic.
    — Ooh, so you are a god? Mævel was amazed
    — Oh, smiled sadly the fox, as you are also, though you probably don’t realize. Gods are not so different than what you think…
    — Oh, really? So there isn’t anything I can do for you, is there?
    — You have already done much for today Mæ
    Mævel was blushing… She dared ask to her new friend
    — And will I see you again?
    — Perhaps sooner than you know.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #370

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part III)

    When the blue fox had disappeared, deep into the woods, Mævel was left wondering if all of that had only been a dream. Perhaps it was just a dream, and something that would make her parents raise their shoulders in dismay.
    Especially since she had lost their gift carelessly they would say, the little pearl white ribbon…

    She picked up the clothes that were left hanging to dry up in the wind, and came back to the little house.

    Of course, her father Jorg noticed that she was not wearing the ribbon, but he was not much of a question asker, and things were or were not, and analyzing them was unnecessary for him. But of course, Ilga noticed it too, and she felt sad for poor Jorg who had endured so many sacrifices to buy the little ribbon that Mævel was no longer wearing. She wanted an explanation! Was it no longer to Mævel’s tastes, had Mævel lost it?

    So Mævel, who could not lie to anybody, told them her encounter with Blohmrik, the cursed god in the woods, in the shape of a wounded blue fox… and at each of her words, was seeing their faces more and more disconcerted.
    Their poor girl, who was already so different, had completely lost it,… ribbon and all that was left of common sense in her.

    So they locked her up in the bedroom, that she was now occupying alone, as all of her brothers and sisters had left. Just to save her from herself, and see if that would help her gain some more solid sense of reality.

    Mævel understood her parents, but she was deeply contrite that they could not understand what she had lived. Mævel was still doubting the reality of her meeting the blue fox, so she asked for some sign from the Gods before going to sleep, to see clearly.

    That night, Mævel dreamt of a dark-haired young man with a white diadem1 around his head, dressed in a cerulean blue tunic and wearing a sword. He was enshrouded in a warm light and as she took the hand he was extending, they were carried away by a springing scented wind into a meadow of multicoloured flowers, some of which she had not even known could exist. She had felt at home.
    When she woke up, in the middle of the night, Mævel was transfixed by the beautiful soothing dream. She could not remember much more, but he had told her something. That there was deep magic in her, and it would help her find her true home, but that she would have to gain back her true name from the Elder God who had took it from her.

    She quickly took her decision. She knew she had to search for the blue fox in the forest. But how could she escape the locked bedroom? She was starting to feel desperate again, but she remembered that there was some magic in her, and how she had felt it deeply true in her dream.
    As she was focusing on the warm expanding feeling of her dream, an old rusty key materialized in her hand.

    1 diadem: [ ˈdī-ə-ˌdem (dəm) ] from Greek diadēma, from diadein to bind around; akin to Sanskrit dāman rope — was originally a white ribbon, ending in a knot and two strips that were placed often on the shoulders, that surrounded the head of the king to denote his authority.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #392

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part IV)

    Mævel’s mind was made up, she was leaving tonight. She took a few of her belongings in a little bundle, and all very silently, moved to the door, the bundle in one hand, and the key in the other.

    But when she tried to put the key into the lock, she noticed something was wrong. The key was way too big for the small lock. What was the purpose of materializing a big key unfit to the locks that were in front of us? she wondered.
    Perhaps the key will have another use, she said to herself, and she put it into her bundle, and wondered whether she could find another way to get out of the bedroom.

    « Use your magic,… you don’t need to play by the rules » a tiny voice whispered in her ear.
    « What does that mean? » she asked, befuddled, as perhaps her parents where right after all, she was becoming nuts… Well, that might attract squirrels and have them gnaw a hole in that wall, she said giggling to herself.
    « You don’t need draw squirrels,… you can draw a door directly »

    What a strange idea, Mævel thought, drawing a door… It sounded so funny at the moment, that she could feel her heart lift and her spirits as well. What could she use to draw that door… Her gaze ran quickly through the bedroom, looking for a bit of chalk, or charcoal, or whatever else. What a terrible thing that she was so obsessed by dusting, as there wasn’t even a single dust bunny left to draw that door.

    « Now, will you pay attention? »
    « I beg your pardon? »
    « What did I told you? »
    « Mmmm, let me think… Oh! I don’t have to play by the rules… »

    So, in a bout of genius, Mævel ran her finger on the wall, starting from the floor, straight upwards, then to the right, and straight down again, until… well, nothing happened.

    « That wall hasn’t budged any! »
    « Are you sure?… Look closer »

    And Mævel saw that the wall had become like a shiny surface of water, right inside where she had drawn the limits of that imaginary door. And when she pressed her finger, it was simply going through it, as though the surface had just been an illusion.

    With a thank for the helpful voice in her head, she was about to cross the surface, but was stopped in her track by a moment of hesitation. Could she change the destination behind the wall as well?
    Why not, after all, she didn’t have to play by the rules.

    « To the forest! » Mævel ordered intently to the wall before jumping in.

    The voice smiled to her fondly.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #402

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part V)

    Mævel, opening her eyes, found herself in the middle of the forest. It was still dark and the sky was covered with a dark blue haze. Now, she had to find her friend the fox…
    How could she do that, in such a wide forest, she started to whine.

    Well, why not start by asking… hooted a rowl nearby.

    Mævel was surprised. She had thought these hot pink speaking owls where found only in legends, not in woods nearby…

    You are in a legend, sweetie retorted the rowl.
    — Oh… Surely the legend of someone else then. Who’s legend it is, I am in, dear rowl?
    — Oh, you can call me Aromelle, sweetie. It’s your legend of course.
    — No kidding? Phew, what a responsibility… I shouldn’t tell you that, but you seem like a rowl I can confide in, err… I’m no hero, I’m not even educated, and I pass winds like any impolite woman or polite green ogress would do… And having everyone know that would be kind of embarrassing… What a legend that would be…
    — Then we’ll just say to the bards to skip that part… said wise Aromelle. Now, you wanted to ask something?
    — Oh yes, I have to find the blue fox.
    — And would you mind being a little more precise about that fox. I know thousands of blue foxes sweetie. Hoohoo, perhaps that’s an exaggeration, but I know quite a few, of others’ legends… You’re not the only legendary one coming into these woods to ask for advice.
    — Oh, I’m sorry, blushed Mævel
    — No need sweetie, snapped the rowl, in fact I know exactly who you are looking for… Wouldn’t that be Gulniforgf, the hunchback one-eyed cleft-lipped ogre cursed by Nærvel, the Goddess of the Waters? she said with an encouraging wink
    — Oh, by Ghört’s sake, no!
    — Hoohooo, no need to swear. Of course it isn’t, I knew that, sweetie. That must be Mifilthion, the toothless bald thousand-year-old troll cursed by Agnima, the Goddess of the Flames, you are looking for, hum? she said slyly
    — Oh, no, no, no… Mine is Blohmrik, he said he was a god…
    — Oh, but you know, everyone is a bit of god in a way, so that’s hardly…
    — He said he was cursed by Lejüs
    SHOOSHOOO, the rowl flapped her wings visibly distraught. That can’t be him! Poor thing… Aromelle added plaintively, you know in these matters of curses, you have to deal with the cursing one, and Shaint Lejüs is a tough one to deal with…
    — Oh, for a moment I was afraid that you’d say Blohmrik was a deaf varicosed warty dwarf… I don’t fear that Lejüs, said bravely Mævel… perhaps a bit hastily, she thought to herself
    — Oh, no, he’s a nice fine man, sweetie, you both would do such a perfect couple…
    — And where do I find him then, Mævel was getting a bit impatient with the winking hooting hoot
    — Well, that’s easy, you just happen to have appeared on top of his burrow.

    What a waste of time, was thinking Mævel… She couldn’t wait for much longer, and after all, the burrow could be a nice place to rest.

    With a quick thanks to Aromelle, she entered the tunnel in front of her.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #414

    Mmmm, Captain,… isn’t that legend a bit long-winded? Tomkin had asked to Captain Bone.

    It had been six nights now that the Captain had told bits of that legend to Tomkin, and even if it was entertaining, Tomkin was more and more impatient to get back to meatier stuff, like galleons full of ancient magical treasures, corsairs from the Warring Kingdoms coasts, strange unknown races from far-off lands… that would be more mouth-watering than this endless legend…

    Captain Bone had laughed.

    — Aaaaah, Tomkin… of course you know I like to tell long stories, and make them longer each time I recall them, but you see, there is also a point in all of that adventure. Mævel’s story is also the story of all of us in a way. Of course, I could tell you how it ends, but in a way it never really ends. More important is for you to see it unfold and that you appreciate the unfolding. The ending is not important in a way. Each and every time this story is recalled, it is different, because it adapts to what is happening right now. Do you see?
    — So what is the point of telling me that story? It was supposed to tell me something about this strange knotted object, but I don’t see any link.
    — Ahahahaha, the point is precisely that Tomkin. I am telling you my story, but this object makes you hear your own story through my words.

    Now, Tomkin Sharple was squatting on the sand near the bonfire lit by Badul’s crew, and he was recalling the words from the Captain. At that time, when he didn’t know a thing about that strange magical object, he had not understood a thing of what the Captain had said.
    But now, it started to make sense, some sense at least. Each time the Captain had told him bits of the legend, Tomkin had been fidgeting the strange object, making the Captain smile. Perhaps the object’s magic was not only acting as a translation device…
    There was something more about it. He was no longer sure that the Captain’s story had been what he was recalling. Perhaps it was completely different, and he had translated it…
    Still, the object had apparently helped him understand what Badul and his men wanted, so it was translating truthfully. But what was a faithful translation?

    Then, a flash came into Tomkin’s mind. The Captain had given the object to him. He’d said it was about connections. Being connected.
    Till then, Tomkin had been the only one to touch it. He had not even revealed the source of his gift to Badul.
    But in the Captain’s case, both of them had been touching it. In sharing that link, they had extended trust to each other, and somehow, they had been mirrors for each other. Perhaps that was what Captain Bone meant when he said that Tomkin was hearing his own story through the Captain’s words.

    Tomkin laid down on the warm sand, looking at the clear starry night.

    ***

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part VI)

    Inside the warm burrow, Mævel found a bed of dry leaves and tender moss. She could see some light from the moon, coming through holes in the ground, which were bringing in some fresh air too. Cuddling comfortably into the makeshift bed, she started to sleep peacefully, waiting for her friend the blue fox to come back.

    ***

    Half-asleep on the beach, Tomkin was wondering… What had happened the next morning… This was fuzzy in this memory, as if the events were moving and reorganising themselves. All that he remember was that Mævel had met the blue fox, but there were myriads of possible events, and all of them were possible, dancing now in front of him.
    He could chose any of them… But, would that make the story the same?
    Then he recalled that it was his own story… So why make it difficult then…

    The voice of Captain Bone was resounding in his ear “You find value in hardships, and value is important to you and our kind. In these lands full of magic, we could just do anything, but somehow you’ll find that rare are the people who constantly use magic. Because when magic is used to make things happen instantaneously, it shifts everything around it to accommodate the changes asked by the summoner of the magic. And it can be overwhelming when too big are the differences between the too states, as we are accustomed to live within a continuity. That’s why I tell you to enjoy the ride of that legend.
    Think of it… You could be Emperor of all Lands if you knew how to use magic for such a feat. But would you do that instantaneously? Slim chances. You wouldn’t know how to behave as an Emperor, and on top of that, you probably would find the new aspect of you who is an Emperor to be overwhelming to your present aspect of little Tomkin.”

    Okay, Tomkin said… No need to skip directly to the last part… she meets the blue fox in his den, and Mævel learns about the curse of the fox.

    ***

    — Oh, really? Mævel was saying
    — Yes, I was a bit of a fool… the blue fox was telling her. But, the silver lining is that there is a way to counteract the curse. But I will need your help again, if you want.
    — I want to help you.
    — Fine. You know about Shaint Lejüs Festival?
    — Mmm, yes, my parents told me about that. It’s the Day of the Forgotten, isn’t it?
    — and of the Accursed Ones.
    — Oh…
    — That special day of the year, the Gates of Lejüs’ Realm are opened and Forgotten and Accursed Ones are given a chance to be Remembered or Graced.
    — Every year? Why then aren’t all of them Remembered?
    — Mostly because the Living Ones dread this day. They are the only ones to be able to free the Demanders, and they quickly felt haunted by the Demanders. So they did rituals to keep the Demanders away from them, as certainly your human parents did.
    — Yes, I remember now…
    — There is another reason actually. Forgotten Ones can only be Remembered when they recover their true name, and only a strong bond like love or some potent magic can force it out of Lejüs’ graps.
    — And Accursed Ones?
    — For them to be Graced, they need to do one pure act of altruism.
    — A simple act?
    — Don’t be fooled, it’s not as simple as it seems. See, I tried to rescue a woman who was drowning herself into the river, but that hunter thought I was attacking her… The fact was that she was willing to be Forgotten, and that my act was not purely altruistic.
    — How so? You probably saved her life?
    — Yes, but that was not what she wanted, and when she cried that I let go of her, I only wanted her out of the waters, because of me…
    — I understand. And how can I help?
    — One altruistic act for me would be to help a Forgotten One to be Remembered. That’s what they ask for, but it’s difficult for them to get past the barriers of the Living Ones.
    — Shaint Lejüs Festival is tomorrow…
    — Yes, have as much rest as you need, Mæ. We will see tomorrow what will occur…

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #424

    — The legend of Mævel — (Part VII)

    Today was the Day of the Forgotten. Mævel had slept well, nestled into the soft and warm depth of her dreams, her head resting on the short blue fur of the fox.
    In sharp contrast with the lovely night, she awoke strangely irritated. Even the birds songs were like noise to her ears, and every sound of the forest she heard with acute intensity and a sense of being submerged by many sensory inputs.
    Hopefully, the blue fox voice was still very comforting, and she started to wonder how they could come across a Forgotten One in need.

    — I think I know where we can find some Forgotten One in need.
    — Where? asked Mævel

    The fox paused, then answered her question:
    — Near your human parents’ home.

    Mævel was surprised. She trusted the fox, and never had really questioned him, because more than that she trusted her own feelings, but now her feelings were telling her that there was something the fox had not told her. Or had told her partially. She was silent, pondering the unseen implications.

    — Mæ, I’ll try my best to answer your questions, but remember I cannot tell you everything. I can help you remember some things, but there are things that my curse does not allow me to reveal. You have to find them by your own, in order to free us…
    — Free us? I thought you were the one Cursed?…
    — Yes I am, and…
    — How do you know my parent’s home? How much do you know about me?
    — I know you since you are a baby actually. And even before…
    — Before? I don’t understand a thing… I feel there are some unseen links, that I cannot decipher, yet they are so close to…
    — You’re right, there are links, links that are important, and that I cannot reveal.
    — Why can’t you reveal them?
    — Let’s go to your human parent’s home…
    — Why do you always say my human parents?

    The fox blew in front of him, creating a wobbling sound into the air in the form of a ring large enough for them to go through it. And he hopped inside, disappearing in mid-air.

    Mævel was perplexed, but did not hesitate. She hopped too into the watery ring in front of her and found herself falling into a void, to reemerge on a bed of dry leaves in front of her parent’s home. Blohmrik the blue fox was seated in front of her, observing a shadowy form at a distance in front of them.

    — Is that the Forgotten One we will help?
    — Yes.
    — Why do you need me? You could help her, couldn’t you?
    — She wouldn’t see me, Forgotten Ones are usually obsessed by a few people, those who they feel can remember them, and don’t usually see other people. Their perception is quite different than ours.
    — Hang on a minute… Why do you think she will see me?

    Mævel looked into the eyes of the fox, and she knew.

    — We are linked.

    It was more an affirmation than a question.
    Mævel wondered who that shadowy figure was. When she focused on her, the form was getting more solid, and she could catch glimpses of how she looked like. And she was surprised. She was about her age, with long blond hair as hers.
    Mævel’s voice was broken:
    — My parents had told me I was about to die when I was a baby, then by a sort of miracle, I became healthy… Was that true?… I mean… Was that a gentle way of telling me that I had a twin who died or…
    — No, Mæ. She is not you. She is not linked to you by blood. You can talk to her, she will listen to you.

    So Mævel went to see the shadowy figure. She had stopped wandering and trying to find an opening around the house, for there were none for spirits: all openings were locked by stripes of red cloth hung onto the doors and windows.
    Mævel felt the pain of the Forgotten One as she approached her.

    — Who are you? she suddenly asked Mævel, raising her head at her approach.
    — I am Mævel.
    — Mævel… It means marvel of Maÿ… I was born in Maÿ…
    — What are you doing here?
    — This is my parents’ home.
    — How is that possible?
    — Twenty one year ago, I was taken away from them, given to Shaint Lejüs in place of a fairy princess. But Shaint Lejüs was no fool, he had sent his apprentice to spy on the fairy king.
    — Blohmrik?!
    — Yes, Blohmrik… But Blohmrik disobeyed the Elder God, and when he saw the exchange that was about to happen, he let it happen. He wanted to protect the fairy princess from his master. Because Shaint Lejüs wanted the princess as a bride. Ahahaha, how disappointed Lejüs was when he saw that I could not perform the most basic magic spells. I was good at nothing, so he let me go wandering into his Realm. He’d just thought the half-fairy princess had inherited no magic from her father.
    — How do you know all that?

    — I told her, the blue fox said. I was hoping to bring her relief. But she started to look for her parents, and Lejüs discovered the truth… Because she was not looking for a fairy king. She was heading here, year after year.
    — That’s the reason of your curse, is it?
    — Yes. She can’t see me because I was Forgotten too, in that form of a blue fox. But as Forgotten Ones don’t forget, I didn’t forget. I couldn’t tell her, because she couldn’t see me.
    — So, I am that fairy princess you are talking about… that strange idea was starting to dawn on Mævel.
    — Yes. When Lejüs discovered who you were, he wasn’t interested in you any longer, because he thought your magical potential had been irremediably damaged by all those years spent in human company.

    — Who are you talking to? the shadowy figure asked, bemused.
    — Blohmrik, he is here. But it’s untrue, Mævel said, there is magic in me.
    — Yes there is, answered the blue fox, and you can undo what has been done with it.

    Mævel remembered the useless key she had manifested when she had tried to go out of her human parents’ house. She had not even looked at it closely.

    — You can manifest it again Mæ, said the fox. It is with you. You are its lock.

    And no sooner had Mævel thought of the big rusted key, than it appeared in her hand again. But this time the rust on it was crackled, and it started to disintegrate, and a brilliant shiny metal started to show beneath it.

    Scratching what was left of the rust, Mævel started to look at the beautiful key, it was shaped as a musical note, and it had some word written on it, in an ancient language she didn’t know how to read. But she knew the sound when she ran her finger on the surface of the word.

    « Araoni »

    That was her. She was remembering, and everything started to change.

    :fleuron2:

    The wedding of the God Blohmrik, son of Mirÿnda, Goddess of Mirth and of Bälias, God of the Sparkles with Araoni, daughter of the Fairy Queen Theÿa and the Fairy King Aldurion was pronounced on a bright day of Maÿ, in a beautiful orchard in the presence of Araoni’s human parents and sisters and brothers.

    Even Lejüs had been invited, even though he would have preferred to be Forgotten…

    :fleuron:

    And so my story ends… said Captain Bone to Tomkin.

    — And was the shadow remembered by her true parents? had asked Tomkin.
    — Oh, yes she was… Of course. She just didn’t want to steal the limelight from Mævel, you see. Her parents were happy of course to find back their true daughter.
    — You didn’t tell me the name of the true daughter, did you?
    — No, I didn’t, said Captain Bone with a wink.

Viewing 7 replies - 1 through 7 (of 7 total)