In my dreams I hear my name called out repeatedly, like a child’s game or rhyme. I try to ignore the sounds and fail.
“Gwenie Gwen, come out, come out. Come out our Gwen, come out and play.” The words are soft and repeated by many voices.
Waking I realize that is isn’t a dream, there are voices calling for me. Calling me to come out and play.
Can my life get any weirder?
Yes... It can.
I feel a compulsion in the call. It pulls at me, begging me to go outside. Without realizing it, I run out of my room and the front door. To stop in complete amazement.
The world outside glows in the morning sun. It doesn’t look the same. The redwoods and ferns are missing and in their place is a wonderland. The sky is blue with a slight breeze blowing across my skin. Motes of a glitter substance dances throughout the air. The vegetation is strange. The trees look like people... well almost. Flowers are scattered everywhere and off to one side lies a bog.
This has to be a dream... how does a bog belong with the beauty before my eyes?
But it is the molasses-like feeling to the air and surroundings that amaze me the most. Stepping out of the front door and into the glowing and glittering environment feels the same as walking through the most humid day of my life. It is a force within itself and walking into... well; it is a joining of the soul and the body to the environment.
Lifting my hand I watch as motes of the glittering sunlight swirl around my movements.
Then I hear the voices again, “Our Gwenie Gwen, you are here... our most precious Gwen.”
Then ‘they’ appear. Faeries of all sizes slowly move out of the vegetation offering a greeting. I walk towards them as they touch me. Every touch encourages a larger smile across my face. From little winged ones to short and bulbous walking Fae. They come forward to touch and bid me a good day. Then a tree moves forward in a slow and fluid motion. It is part of the earth and yet it isn’t.
Can a tree lumber and flow at the same time?
Then from the small bog a hideous woman slinks out of the muck with weeds hanging off her hair and shoulders. Then it hits me, most are naked. Not all but a good bit are. She is not what I want to see naked. Her tall thin hunched form has a pearl green color. Her breast sag down to her stomach and the hair is long and stringy. I can almost overlook the nakedness because her face has its own issues. She is missing her nose, and the mouth is wide like a frog.
Holy crap... what do I do?
Luckily she stops short of touching me and nods her head. “Gwen, I hope you will visit soon.”
I nod my head back and she slips back into her bog.
Then the largest man I have ever laid eyes upon walks out and into this sunlit garden. He passes through the crowd of Fae as I look over his body. He is tall and thin, and like many of the Fae, he wears zero clothing. It seems he doesn’t need it; like others, he has hair covering him from the bellybutton to his cloven feet. However, that isn’t what bothers me. His head isn’t human. It is a large goat's head with huge long horns that curve backwards. The horns looked like a ram’s horns and the irises of his eyes are pure black.
He strolls towards me as the whispered welcomes halt. The world hushes in anticipation of his coming words.
“Gwen of the Fae, be welcome.” His voice is deep and raspy.
Falling back on the stupid etiquette classes my grandmother forced on me I reply, “Uh, thank you.”
See, she got her monies worth... not.
“Come Gwen, come and walk with me.”
Circe and Jadis walk out the front door behind me. I feel better with them at my side.
A few small winged Fae fly towards me, landing on my shoulder to play in my hair. I stand stock still, not knowing what to do. Jadis grabs one hand while Circe grabs the other. Seeing one small Fae in my hair, others follow and play in my long strands. I ignore this for the obvious conversation.
You don’t go with strangers, right?
Anyone remember ‘stranger danger’?
Circe answers for me, “No. She doesn’t go with you. We don’t know you. You must first prove the reasoning to take Gwen with you.”
Thank you Circe! She is much better at stubborn communication.
He bows and introduces himself, “Ladies my name is Tamyson.” And then he does something amazing. In a shimmering grey haze his form changes to an Elf. He is slightly shorter in this form... maybe 6-foot 3-inches? His other form was huge.
Tamyson continues, “I am an Elven Lord, councilor to our king and Gwen’s grandfather.” He doesn’t smile or offer a calming effect. In fact, he acts without feelings. Like he is here for a job and not as a family member.
Well Holy Fuck, can this shit get any deeper?
Circe answers, “Do you swear on the honor of your king, your court and your own blood. Will you bind yourself in a trust to keep her safe and bring her back to our coven in a timeframe acceptable to our standards of time?”
I swivel my head with an open mouth gaping from her words.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
She smirks at me, “As Damiana’s pupil I learned how to talk to elves.” And looking at me with hard eyes she says, “You and I will talk of this. You need to learn how to bargain.”
Jadis adds, “Just a moment,” and runs back in to our little cottage. Returning, she places a leather necklace around my neck with nails woven throughout in intricate layers. “Do not take this off. Cold iron can stop the glamour of the Fae.”
Tamyson nods his head in a formal manner stating, “I swear to those term and bind myself to these oaths with my very blood.” And a squat Fae moves forward to hand a knife to Tanyson. Upon reaching his hand, he slashes a cut across his forearm and repeats, “I so swear.”
Taking a cue from Circe and actually using the lessons from those stupid summer camps I word my next question carefully. “Thank you for these assurances. I graciously accept your invitation.” I throw a smirk towards Circe.
See, I can talk formally.
I tentatively reach a hand towards this new family member... my grandfather.
“Come Gwen of the Fae, come and learn,” and as we walk the world changes around us. With only a few steps we are far away from the cottage. The surrounding forest is different. It is a wetter forest with fog everywhere. I can hear the ocean in the distance, the waves crash and seagulls call out.
As we move, Tamyson speaks. “We walk betwixt and between now. We move from one place to another with magic. This magic will help your emotions free themselves.”
“What is betwixt and between?”
“We walk from place to place that are edges. Anywhere that holds the end of one and the start of another are places we can walk to.”
As Tamyson said this, we step onto a beach where the water meets the sand. It is cold on my bare feet and the shock of it makas me gasp.
Tamyson ignores my gasp and continues talking, while standing in the ocean’s surf. “Here, where the water meets the sand, is an area we can move between.” And taking another step we stand on the sandy dunes where the sand meets with tall grasses.
“Where are we?” I can still see the ocean, but we were now 400 yards away.
“I believe in your measurement system we are some 100 miles away from your cottage and your coven. Distance means nothing; it is only betwixt and between.”
“We will test your ability to walk between. We must also address your grandmother’s actions to withhold your powers.” Tamyson explains. “The ceremony lifted the geas held on you, yet your emotions are muffled.”
“What do you mean; my emotions are muffled?”
“When humans are cold, they wear many clothes. Your emotions and your magic were bound and wrapped up in many layers. When it comes crashing back, you will have much anger and anger will not help you or the Fae.”
I thought about Tamyson’s words. How did I feel? It seems fear and confusion are the prevalent feelings. With splashes of amazement.
I disagreed with his assessment, “I had anger towards Damiana.”
“Really, do you think you have truly acted angry? Where is your anger over your mother and grandmother? How is it easy for you to think of that cottage as yours so quickly?”
I ponder his words. I hadn’t fought against what happened, not really. I was a pushover.
“Why are you helping me? It seems everyone leads me around, and I let it happen. Why are you different?”
Tamyson smirks, “This is to my advantage; I am using you for the Fae. Never think differently. However, know this, I believe that you need control over yourself to help the Fae. I believe that you will want to help us. That is the reason I am helping you.”
I stood there feeling the sand between my toes, the wind flowing against my skin and listening to the crash of the ocean as it broke against the surf. I stand there feeling the world around me. Tamyson stays quiet and leaves me to my thoughts. I appreciate that.
“How can you help me?” I ask.
“In Fae, time can move differently. We will walk and talk, while we keep going betwixt and between. You will stay immersed in magic and while time flows fast for us, your world will move very slowly. We can spend years in the blink of a human’s eye. If we want our time to run slow, we can do that as well. But for our purposes, we will take the time you need to learn how to handle your emotions and your Fae side.”
The walk was amazing.
Tamyson didn’t talk much. He moved us to places of beauty; simply, quiet, beauty. I don’t know how long we walked before I start asking for answers… answers that I never knew I needed.
“Can you tell me about my Fae background?”
Tamyson continued walking us between places, not answering this particular question. When he explains what he knows of my heritage, I am overwhelmed. I start sweating and my sight becomes blurry. Thinking I might faint, I sat for a moment, and think back on his words.
“I am your grandfather and you are one of a few people, in a long line of families, that were bred to bring magic and lore back to life around the world.”
I was bred? The shocks kept coming when I found out that the man breeding our families has lived hundreds of years. I learn my grandmother and mother were brew to Fae men and there are plans for me. And I learn that the man with Damiana, the first night we arrived, is the man manipulating us all. His name is Abramelin De La Barthe, also known as Abramelin the Mage.
After learning this bit of news, I go back to looking at the surrounding beauty. I want to let this information sink in.
We are on a mountain where a glacier meets the dirt, and it was here that my emotions take over. I fall to my knees crying and pounding the ground in anger. I am hurt, confused and furious. Tamyson doesn’t offer to hold me, he stands and watches, detached.
I am submerged in emotions I never dealt with. My prior life kept me separated from myself and the world surrounding me. I cry because I am so damn angry! Most of my life was half-lived. I feel like my grandmother stole all those years from me. Knowing all of this now I decide that woman shall never have that kind of power over me again... ever!
When my tears stopped, I feel better. Not over it, but better. With an odd thought, I plop down onto my butt and look up at Tamyson.
“Why haven’t I felt the cold? We are beside a glacier, and I am in a thin dress without shoes, why haven’t I felt the freezing cold?”
Tamyson smiles, “Your Fae blood is coming out. The muffling that bound your powers are now free to work on you and the world around you.”
Tamyson held out his hand to help me stand, “It is time for you to move us between.”
My mouth fell open. “How? Are you sure? How can I?”
Tamyson pointed, “Look down the mountain, see the tree line? Walk us to that point. See it in your mind, feel the between of that location and step to it.”
I closed my eyes trying to feel. Opening my eyes, while trying to feel, I walk us towards the between of the trees and the mountain glade. With the second step of our feet are moving through the grass at the forest’s edge. I come to a sudden stop and look at Tamyson.
In a squeaky voice, I cry out, “I did it!”
Grabbing my hand, Tamyson ‘steps’ and we were back by the cottage in Cavecroft.
Gravely he says, “Yes, you did.”
Tamyson holds his hand out in front of my face and a small creature appears. Its tiny pair-shaped grey body has legs and arms like a frog, but thin instead of thick and meaty. Its wide, triangle-like head has long pointed ears and spikes, like twigs, that grow out from the top of the forehead and in between the ears. The wide mouth stays hidden underneath its beak. The long, angled eyes are colored yellow and black. Lastly, the twig-looking spikes run from the top of the head, down the back of his head and stops on the shoulders. The spikes become reptile-like ridges down the spine and thin tail.
“This is a Spriggan and they guard treasures. As you are our treasure, the Spriggan will protect you.”
With that, Tamyson placed the creature on my shoulder and it promptly scurries behind my ear. Standing next to my neck, it hides its body under my hair as it peeks his head out, like a flower I have placed behind my ear.
“Spriggans use powerful glamour and can stay hidden from most witches, as Fae magic is very different than theirs.”
Without giving me a chance to speak, Tamyson turns around and walks away.
Saying back across his shoulder, “We will practice more tomorrow,” and with that, he is gone ‘between’ one step and the next.