Samantha Brittain

October 30, 2006

Brenner

Fiction 1

Folk Tale

At the beginning of time, when the world was still new, one Wind called the other 3 Winds together for a banquet in a great field surrounded by forests. It was autumn, and though the air was cool, there was no wind to make it cold. Leaves fell from the trees in their brilliant colors of red and yellow, but instead of being wafted by the wind, they fell directly to the ground. No leaves were in the meadow, they were all clumped in piles beneath the trees, for no wind blew them along.

In the center of the field, Norren, the wind who had called the others, had set up a large mahogany table. It was square, with one place setting on each side, one for each of the winds. The china was the finest money could buy (or would have been if money existed) and the silverware was made of beaten gold. Each fork was fashioned as stag, and the tines were part of the antlers. Each knife was a bird, with the creature's long tail as the blade. Next to the place settings were goblets of the finest cut crystal. In the center of the table stood a massive candelabra, bearing lit red candles.

The winds began to arrive. Welshd came first, smelling of praire sage. Next came Sarena, who smelled of tropical flowers and warm rain. And last arrived Erana, smelling of fine spices and green tea. They sat down and began to eat, invisible servers passing the silver platters.

At the end of the meal, Norren said, "Friends, I have called you here for a reason. The gods have declared that we are each to choose a direction and become the wind for that direction. Please choose your favorite." Taking Sarena's hand, he asked, "Which direction do you choose, my dear?"

Sarena thought for no more than a moment before saying in her rich voice, "I choose to become the South Wind. I love the warmth of the southern lands."

"Very well." Norren replied, smiling at her. Already he dreamed of making her his wife. "Erana, choose your direction."

The soft-spoken Erana said in her breathy voice, "I choose the East, Norren. I would not trade living on that side of the world for anything."

"Very well. That leaves Welshd and I. Welshd, what say you?"

"Norren," Welshd boomed, "I choose to belong to the West. That is the place where I am most at home."

"Agreed." Norren replied. "Then I shall be Lord of the North." And so it was. The winds went their separate ways, but Welshd could not stop dreaming of Erana, and Norren- could not help but remember the way the candlelight had made Sarena's face shine.

On the very same day, each Wind sent a message to the object of his desire. Each asked the female of his choice for her hand, and each lady consented. So it was that the Winds met whenever they could, North with South, East with West. And soon they had children.

Sarena gave birth to a son called Malic, and he was the pride of his family. Erana gave birth to a daughter, Elira, and she was famed for her loveliness.

Soon after, the Winds met again. But this time they were not peaceful. They were no longer friends. Welshd roared at Norren, and Sarena and Erana screamed insults. Power had spoiled the Winds, and they parted still bitter. The feud lasted centuries, each couple refusing to talk to the other.

Years after their families separated, Malic and Elira were each walking through a wood, which was in fact the one in which their parents had met for their first banquet. Elira was gathering wild flowers and making them into garlands. She stopped to rest, sitting upon a large boulder. And then she began to sing.

Malic heard Elira's song and followed it to the clearing where the girl rested. Seeing the young woman, he bowed to her.

"Strange to meet a woman in this forest. How did you get here?"

To which she replied, "My father and mother are the East and West Winds. I can go anywhere I choose."

"Do you choose to come here often?" Malic asked, trying not to stare, for she truly was beautiful.

"Yes. Do you have a name?" And he told her his name, and she told him hers. They talked for a long time, and soon found themselves falling in love, just as their parents had. But Malic knew his parents would never accept the union, she was the daughter of hated enemies. Still, he requested that she meet him again. Elira was quick to agree.

They met every week for months, in that glade with the tall sheltering trees and the soft grasses. Lying in the grass beside Elira one day, twining a bit of vine through her hair, Malic knew he must ask. He had prepared.

"Darling, let us be married. Please be my wife." Malic said.

"I will!" Elira cried, kissing him. "But what of our families?"

"My parents are not pleased, but they have consented. I will go to yours and ask for your hand. I will do anything they ask as long as they allow us to be together." And Elira smiled and said that he should meet them that very night. And so he agreed.

But the East and West Winds were greatly angered by this young man. They frightened him, displaying their powers, but he refused to back down. They tested him on manners and etiquette and strength, but could find no fault. It looked as though they would have to consent. But then Erana had an idea.

"Young man," she said, smiling coldly, "you may marry our daughter. On one condition."

"All you must do is name it. I will do anything." Malic said, sounding braver than he felt.

"You must go forth to the home of Alenaim, and somehow get the Great Pearl from her. If you can bring the Pearl here for us to see, we will give you our daughter."

Now this task was very dangerous, for Alenaim was a sorceress, and famous for collecting and killing handsome young men. And the Pearl was her greatest treasure. With it she could see the future. Not only this, but she had long wanted Elira dead, for she rivaled the witch for beauty. But Malic loved Elira, and he agreed.

And so the next morning, the young man set out upon his quest in his old doeskin boots, with a pack on his back. He walked for three days and three nights without stopping, for after all, he had the strength of two winds combined, and on the fourth day he collapsed on the soft grass beside the road.

He slept until nightfall, and when he awakened, he realized that there was a fire before him, with a rabbit roasting on a spit. Across the fire sat an old man in ragged clothes with a long gray beard that fell to his waist. His hair fell around his shoulders in long waves, and he puffed contentedly on an old wooden pipe, his eyes closed.

Without opening his eyes, the old man said in a hoarse voice, "Ah, the son of the North and South Winds awakens."

"How did you know who I am?" Malic asked, amazed that despite his humble clothing, someone had recognized him.

"I know many things," the old sage said. "Now tell me where you are going."

"I go to the home of Alenaim, the enchantress. I must convince her to give me the Great Pearl, so that I can give it to the parents of the one I love in exchange for her hand in marriage." Said the young man.

"That is a fool's errand, and if you had a whit of sense, you would go home immediately and find another way of convincing the East and West Winds to give you their daughter. They have given you this task because they know you cannot succeed."

"But I must!" cried Malic. "There is no other way."

"In that case, I will tell you what you must do to get there. But that is all I can do."

"Oh please do, sir. It would be a great help to me."

As the old man spoke, he took the rabbit off the spit and divided it between them. "You must continue along this road. Tomorrow you will come upon a man who will tell you to turn back. Ignore him, but walk around him to the left, off the road, or you will die.

Later in the day, you will come upon another man who will tell you to turn back. Walk backwards past him, or you will be killed.

And still later, you will meet the last man. Push him from your way and walk where he stood, or you will be killed.

When you get to the castle, knock three times on the portcullis, snap your fingers twice, and walk in."

The old sage and the young man ate together, then slept. When Malic woke in the morning, the old man was gone. He started on his way.

Soon he came to a man dressed in pink velvet, with pearl buttons. The man bowed low. "Go back, or you shall be killed." He said. Malic said nothing, but walked to his left. Nothing harmed him. It was just as the old man had said.

He came upon a man in red velvet with silver buttons. "Go back, or you shall perish." The man said. Malic said nothing, but turned and walked past him backwards, and no harm befell him.

He came to the last man, whose clothing was the red of old blood and had buttons of gold. "Turn back now, or you will never again return home." He said. And Malic pushed him aside. AS he did so, the man in red disappeared, and Malic walked where he had stood.

He reached the great, forbidding castle, and knocked three times on the portcullis. Then he snapped his fingers twice. The portcullis lifted and the door opened and he walked in. The entry was cold and dark, but as we walked down the corridor leading from it, torches in sconces on the walls began to burn, lighting his way. He walked for hours, until he came to a thrown room. The wall hangings were black velvet, and ravens filled the rafters, cawing noisily. A great fire burned in the fireplace, which was to his left. On an a raised dias, on a thrown carved of ebony wood, sat a beautiful woman. Her hair was pale blonde, and fell to her waist. She smiled, revealing slightly pointed incisors behind red lips. Her eyes were cold as glass marbles in her head.

"Ah, Malic," she purred. "And what have you come for?" Malic was not surprised she knew his name, she was, after all, a sorceress. He decided to ask bluntly for what he wanted. He bowed low.

"Enchantress Alenaim, I ask for the Great Pearl." He said bravely. She laughed at him, a throaty, frightening laugh.

"Foolish boy, what makes you think I will give you that?" He told her the story, and she listened, running her fingers through her flaxen hair. When he had finished, she smiled a smile that seemed to show more teeth than possible, and said "I will give you the Pearl. On one condition."

"Anything!" cried Malic.

"You must kiss me first." He did as he was told. But the moment his lips touched hers, it felt as though his lips had been pricked by a barb, and his eyes glazed. The sorceress laughed again, and handed him the Pearl. "Go to her, boy. Let her see what I have done." Malic smiled a malicious smile and began the journey back.

When he reached her, Elira smiled and held out her arms, but Malic did not come to her.

"I have brought the Pearl," he said, smiling a wicked smile Elira had never seen before and showing it to her.

"Then we can marry!" cried Elira. "Oh, Malic, I'm so happy!" She embraced him, but he shoved her aside.

"I no longer wish to marry you." He said. "I can't remember why I once did." Tears began to fill her eyes as he drew a knife from his belt. "In fact, you are my enemy and must be destroyed." He raised the dagger to strike, and she saw that his eyes had changed. Screaming, she ran into the next room and bolted the door. He battered it, laughing coldly.

Elira looked for something to protect herself with, but found nothing. Suddenly, the old man who had advised Malic appeared before her. He had been a servant of their family forever.

"Please, Malic is bewitched, you must help me." The old man nodded. "Do you know what I must do?"

"Go to him and grab his wrists, and do not let go, no matter what happens. He will become himself again." The old man said, then disappeared. Steeling herself, Elira unlocked and opened the door and threw herself at Malic. She grabbed his wrists. He tried to shake her off, but her hands were like twin vices. He snarled.

The two began spinning quickly, until Elira felt absolutely sick. Malic began to change, first to flames, then to ice. The he changed into a lion, clawing at her. Next he turned into a snake, hissing and trying to bite her.

He became a porcupine, then a score of other things. When it was over and he was again human, she was bruised and scraped and burnt, but alive. Malic smiled as he once had and kissed her softly. "Thank you for saving me." And he bandaged her hands.

Seeing Malic's bravery, and how much their daughter loved him, the East and West Winds consented, and on their wedding day, the gods smiled.