Day 11 of Midwinter, Sunrise

The Crossroads

Annwn

I know what you're thinking. Someone dead can’t narrate a story. Maybe now you believe that someone dead can’t break the fourth wall. Okay, smarty pants, you're very insightful and should be very proud of yourself.

But it turns out death in Annwn is a funny thing. Rule number three… Certain people in this fairy tale world just don’t quit. Like the Energizer Bunny, my sometimes humorous internal voice just kept cracking-wise, even after the fall.

My body, on the other hand, felt like it had broken the fourth wall, the fifth wall, and every wall before and after. Strangely, nothing appeared wounded. I just felt sore and strange. I could see the vaguest outline of myself in the gray that made up the world and I appeared to be intact. I was naked, floating down a path that reminded me of what a huge, straightened vinyl record might look like. I drifted in the direction of the lines on the path.

Ahead, I could see a bright light. Next to me was another being. He was large, muscled, and also completely naked. And though his tribal tattoos and horned helms were missing, I recognized the man as Balor. He looked over and saw me as we stopped just short of the light ahead.

Neither one of us spoke. It was as if we knew it would be impossible to speak in that spot. It was quiet, save for a scratchy voice that sounded from far away. It continued calling out, and the longer it spoke, the louder it became. It reminded me of Marianne Faithfull’s voice from that 90’s Metallica album that everyone else in the world hated, but I loved. It was androgynous and spiteful. It spoke to me first.

“I knew you would end up here eventually. These are the crossroads that face all living souls. The crossroads represent the end of suffering for most that tread this path.” The voice didn’t wait for me to respond. “You deserve that release… the end of the trials and the end of the failures.”

I wasn’t sure what the voice meant, but I didn’t have to wait long for it to continue. “You gain a relic and you immediately break it. When fate finds your relic miraculously fixed, you give it away. When you finally make friends in Annwn, you leave them at the first convenient time. When you are blessed with a minion, you release it. These are the acts of someone who does not belong in this world. For you, I offer a way out.”

If I could have replied, I would have had some choice things to say. But my forced silence made me contemplate the words. They were harsh, but also true.

I watched as Balor began to fade from the path. His skin grayed to match the ambient color of our environment, but his eyes glared at me with amber cores. There was malice and hate in them that I recognized from his life, but in this state, he reminded me of something else...something that I could not place. He was a wisp of his former self, yet somehow also frightening in a new and terrible way.

He began moving away from the light at the end of the tunnel and toward the voice. As he shrank from my view, he held my eyes, his gaze cruel and taunting even now. I heard the voice again, encouraging me to follow. “Now it is your turn. Come to me, and I shall give you renewed purpose.”

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I was surprised to realize that a part of me wanted to go. The voice offered an escape from my floundering in this magical world. But the other part of me remembered I had tried taking the easy way out once already. I knew that path wasn’t for me. There was something else, too...I had a feeling the voice offered only lies. I had heard the same empty promises in the whispers of the Bodach.

From the light came a second voice, one that stirred a great welling of emotion inside of me. It was deep and feminine, and it spoke in a familiar tone. “Trust your instincts, Bren. They have always served you well. But here at the crossroads, you must decide which path to take. The path of light is not an easy one.”

I still couldn't speak, but I understood her meaning enough to not need a litany of questions answered. There were two options: a path of death and a path of life. Death offered a release from toil and trouble. Life offered complexity and trials, pain and struggle. But my instinct told me that the toil would yield fruit.

Without conscious thought, I began moving toward the light. The first, raspy voice grew fainter, and the quiet song welcoming me back into the light became stronger and clearer. The woman’s voice sang a children’s song, one I realized I knew. The memory, my first from before the cold moon, seemed to come from the recesses of my mind.

The babes of the mist are wild and free,

To walk the hills of the shore and sea.

They climb the rock, the moss, the tree,

For the babes of the mist are free.

The babes of the mist can hear and see,

The songs passing through eternity.

They dance in the steps of memory,

For the babes of the mist are free.

The babes of the mist must pay a fee,

Their stones will forever hold the key.

To the waves of the wells, they'll always be,

For the babes of the mist are free.

When the song ended, I found myself sitting atop a cliff overlooking a misty expanse. Waves crashed below me. The landscape was that of giants, from the stones making up my perch above the sea to the scant trees barely visible through the fog. I felt but a small thing amidst the grand scale of the world around me.

It was light, but I could no more judge the position of the sun than I could judge the direction I had come. Scattered among the trees, I saw rock mounds littering the horizon. Some were more jagged than others. Some were larger, some smaller. Some grew a perfect, verdant ecosystem of grasses, mosses, and clover above the rocks beneath. Some had collapsed in on themselves.

I walked between the mounds and away from the sound of the waves. I had no distinct memories of these huge stone mounds, yet I found myself wandering between them as I would between friends. The ground beneath my bare feet was soft and spongy, and I remembered then that I was still naked. I had none of my worldly possessions. No dagger. No armor. And no cloak.

I knew I had died, but I also knew that at some point in the battle with Balor, I must have earned a domain, and therefore, earned my immortality. Instead of feeling shocked by this realization, my normally meandering mind remained fixed in the present. I took in the coolness of the air and the dew of the moss on my feet. I had goosebumps, and for the first time wandering the realms, I felt truly alive.

At the edge of the mist, between two mounds, I saw the silhouette of a woman. She stood larger than me, even at a distance. She fit perfectly in with the rocks and trees of this world, and as she approached, her massive frame grew in perspective to her proximity. She had a kind face and wore the moisture from the air on her hair and face. I couldn't tear my eyes away from hers. Despite the water beading on her face, I could see tears in her eyes.

“Hello, my boy.” The woman took a tentative step toward me, appearing almost afraid to get too close.

I was frozen in place but managed a response. It was both a statement and a question. “I know you…”

She nodded, then got down on both knees, extending her arms. I rushed forward, forgetting my nakedness, and wrapped myself around her. We both cried, clinging to each other. I didn’t know where these emotions had come from, only that somewhere deep inside me there laid dormant memories of her. From the smell of her hair to the softness of her skin, I knew that I was home.

“Come now,” she said, pulling back so she could better look at me. “I don’t have you for long, and you have some big decisions to make.”