The World of Myth Magazine

The year is 514, Vladimir the Young is Sage-King of the human kingdom of Thuraen.

The year is 5,297, Ulan is High Prince, Derek is Low Prince and Sienna Alknown is Mother Druid of the sylvan princedom of Greenwood Vale.

Paechra noticed that the march up the gangplank from the misty dock to the great ship, the Picturesque Picaresque was a difficult climb for not only her but the two humans that chose to travel with her also. They did not have the same physical frailties as the ancient Sienna, and a small number of other older druids who had undertaken the journey that had begun in the sacred grove of Greenwood Vale, destined to end, Paechra hoped, in the heart of Andrapaal, Capital City of the human kingdom of Thuraen. What Paechra, Anton, and Thomas all shared though was a memory of their previous travels aboard the ghoul ship. Paechra noted that it gladdened Anton to discover that he was not sent below the deck of the Picturesque Picaresque, instead he had been given run of the ship as Thomas had been on the previous voyage. Likewise, Thomas had not been sent below to row, for the young butcher though it was not as great a relief. Paechra Lightheart joined the two humans on deck, pretending that she wanted to keep an eye upon them. In reality though the sylvan only wished to avoid contact with the ship’s captain, Overtain.

“Why so many complaints boy,” laughed Anton, Paechra noticing that silver still persisted in the old warrior’s aura, silver with a touch of pink. The silver was evidence of bravery while the pink was that of a pleasant mood, a mood Paechra had never seen Anton wear before.

Thomas on the other hand was all grey and a deep dark blue where his aura was concerned. Around his face the butcher from Andrapaal was green, and those bits not sickly were ghost white. Grey was concerning for Paechra, an aura reflecting a physical illness or injury. The deep dark blue was not so concerning, pure fear in its most natural form. Paechra was certain if she chose to examine her own aura she would see the same color there too.

“It was not like this,” moaned the younger of the humans. “The deck was swarming with monstrosities; each way I turned I was faced with a reminder of death and decay.”

“You should have seen what awaited Michael and me below then, lad,” chuckled Anton. “The dead filled every seat but for a handful.”

Thomas gulped loudly as he tried to stop himself from being sick.

“I know that they are hidden away somewhere, perhaps at night they will come out to haunt my dreams,” suggested Thomas as he looked left and right, expecting an undead sailor to appear, reaching out to grab him. “Why did we have to travel by boat again?”

“I have ways to help you deal with your nausea,” offered Paechra, she was also looking for distractions from her own memories.

“The boy will be fine,” stated Anton with a smile. It seemed he was happy watching Thomas suffer.

“Why are you not with Sienna, the old one?” asked Thomas, before he gulped again, his eyes growing wide with panic.

“Just let it out, boy,” urged Anton. “We will all feel a hundred percent better if you do.”

“I for one do not wish to witness such a spectacle,” said Paechra. “And to answer your question there are enough of my sisters chanting at present to keep the sails full.”

It had quickly become known that the druids Sienna and Sarah had negotiated with the ship’s captain, Captain Overtain, that they would supply the wind that would propel the great ship. Overtain had dismissed his crew of rowers and shipmates, deeming them unnecessary. The poor lost souls wandered aimlessly past the waiting sylvan and vanished into the mist, groaning, moaning, and complaining. Paechra tried to look away as the young boy she had doomed shuffled by her, but he caught her eye, and the look they shared made Paechra shudder. As luck would have it many more of the ghoul crew came up behind that fresh corpse and shuffled him along. As she made her way cautiously up the gangplank Paechra still expected to see young Aaron behind every hidey-hole, around every blind corner. The ship seemed empty though, empty of all ghouls but one.

As Thomas made the noise of sickness Paechra overheard Anton’s chuckling.

“Sister Paechra,” called one of the other druids. “Your mother has requested your presence.”

“Get it all out, lad,” Paechra heard Anton say.

“Much thanks, Isobella-Ann,” murmured Paechra, truly grateful for the summons.

Should Thomas have need to become sick again, as his aura seemed to suggest, Paechra wanted to be far away from the two men, as far away as possible.

The wind blew strong and straight, not faulting as Paechra made her way, surefooted across the deck of the rising and falling ship. Unlike the voyage that the sylvan took with the human queen and her handful of citizens, a terribly rough sea voyage made even more uncomfortably with the presence of the stench and vision of death, this journey seemed likely to be far more pleasant. The sky was a pretty blue, not a cloud in the sky, the ship travelled far faster with the magical wind propelling it. Paechra thought of her own use of magic, how she had chosen to use the life beneath the waves to propel the vessel out of a foggy storm. Such use of power had gained her a personal meeting with the ship’s captain. This time around though Captain Overtain seemed not to care that Sienna and the other druids were blatantly manipulating the natural order. It seemed as in nature that it was one rule for some but a completely different set of rules for the rest.

“It seems unfair,” Paechra mumbled to herself. “But why should I try to figure out the thoughts and intentions of a ghoul, undead and cursed to prey upon the living and yet imprisoned, destined to spend eternity tied to single place.”

Paechra considered what Captain Overtain may have been like before he came upon the Picturesque Picaresque. The ghoul would have to have been a person, a human or other race that had somehow made his way through the world between worlds before suffering the fate that befell him. But this was far too difficult a notion to examine, there were far too many unknowns and so many questions that the young Lightheart would have needed to ask, and that would require Paechra spending time with the ghoul. Paechra considered the blatant fact that not all ghouls needed to stay aboard, but it seemed even in death the captain must go wherever it be that the ship wishes to take them. Otherwise, Paechra considered the other possibility, the possibility that the captain had remained on board the ship for his own reasons, reasons that involved her.

With this disturbing thought in the forefront of her mind, Paechra continued to make her way across the deck to where she believed that Sarah Lightheart would be waiting.

“Sister, Paechra, please wait!” Isobella-Ann’s voice cried, Paechra only just able to hear it over the wind that filled the sails and caused them to balloon outwards, almost tearing them due to their agedness.

“What is it that you need from me, sister druid?” asked Paechra. “I fear that I have kept my mother and the other druids waiting already long enough.”

“I can see from your aura that something plagues your thoughts, thought that is not why I have stopped you, Paechra,” said Isobella-Ann, coming up to stand beside Paechra under one of the great sails when she saw that the younger Lightheart had heeded her call.

“Yes, I have travelled by dragon, by horseback, and dream,” explained Paechra. “Travelling by sea, this sea, upon this very boat, with this same captain, it is not a new experience to me as it is to all of you others.”

“I understand,” said Isobella-Ann.

“How can you though?” asked Paechra. “How is it that you can say you understand?”

“We are sisters, we are druids of the Greenwood Vale,” suggested Isobella-Ann.

“This is not my first time beyond our home,” said Paechra.

Isobella-Ann saw as Paechra felt her aura change as memories poured into the younger Lightheart’s mind.

“Sisters talk,” said Isobella-Ann plainly, as if that explained everything.

“Let me guess,” sighed Paechra. “My friend Heidi has shared with some of you what she knows of my adventures in the human realm.”

“I wish not to betray any of our sisterhood,” began the other druid. “But, yes, Heidi has spoken of the citizens of Andrapaal, a blacksmith, a seamstress, one who is a bird…”

“The black bird, Raven?” half asked, half laughed Paechra. “No, not a bird, but a man, and a strange man at that.”

“It sounds as though all from this kingdom of Thuraen are strange,” suggested Isobella-Ann. “Who in their right mind would take the life of one such as us?”

“Who in their right mind would give up their life for one such as us?” asked Paechra in return.

The young druids both sighed, Isobella-Ann was contemplating the complexities of humankind, while Paechra was trying to recall her friend Raven’s facial features and found her memory to be a blur of vagueness and uncertainty.

“So, what is it that you actually wish to know?” asked Paechra.

“What is so important to you, sister, that we risk so many precious lives?” asked Isobella-Ann.

Paechra stared out across the empty ocean, tracking the sun as it ebbed towards late afternoon.

“One man, only one human claimed the hours of my father’s life,” Paechra began. “I am certain that there are other humans like that one man… Not all of one race can be kind, thoughtful, caring, selfless…”

“Agreed,” murmured Isobella-Ann.

“That one man who captured my father and forced him to use his knowledge and understanding, that one man who chose to steal my father from me,” continued Paechra. “My father gave to me the parting words that I not paint all humans with the experience of one who is selfish and cruel, I will honor that request.”

“You still have not told me why the two of us are standing upon this deck, why we go to a foreign world where peace does not reign, where enemies may be friends, and the creatures who are our shared enemies attack us from our thoughts and dreams,” said Isobella-Ann, an edge creeping into her tone. “I ask you why as a sister druid and you dance around the question like you are your father’s daughter.”

“I am a linguist, but I am a druid first,” replied Paechra, her arms open wide. “You know me, Isobella-Ann, you know my parents and my upbringing, and that you have discovered such an upbringing has gifted me with the best and the worst of both worlds… Of that you cannot point to my heart and my mind and call foul.”

Isobella-Ann made to argue back, she raised her finger and opened her mouth, but then she remained silent. Her accusation was caught in her throat and as such was unspoken.

“There, see, you cannot say the words, but I can see your frustration written upon your face and simmering at the very surface of your bubbling aura,” stated Paechra. “Sadly, I cannot give the answer to you that you need to hear, sister.”

“Then what can you give me, Paechra Lightheart?” Isobella-Ann demanded to know.

“A surface like the calm ocean, sister,” suggested Paechra. “Ask yourself why if you doubt this cause do you still follow when none have told you that you must stay.”

“Sienna Alknown, our Mother Druid, she has spoken, and all must follow,” stated Isobella-Ann, her arms crossed over her chest.

“No! You are wrong, sister,” said Paechra, her finger jutting forward to poke Isobella-Ann in the arm. “Sienna’s message was that all had a choice, and that nobody had to obey.”

“Then, I guess I have chosen to follow the path like a gHjunkith, one wandering blindly after the one before until all are caught in the carnivore’s den,” sighed Isobella-Ann as she rubbed the place where she had been poked.

“Galumph, galumph, galoo…” laughed Paechra, giving Isobella-Ann a smile and a huge hug. “Let us both be gHjunkith together then… Better that than a feathered Urt.”

“Agreed,” said Isobella-Ann, a smile creeping across her face. “A bunch of gHjunkith can bite and kick all but the largest of carnivore.”

“The Urt merely sing as their feathers are plucked one by one,” said Paechra. “Caw… Caw… Why?”

“Why? Why? Why indeed?” laughed Isobella-Ann. “I do so sound like the helpless Urt.”

“Helpless, but for its small, sharp, pecker,” said Paechra with a nod.

“Watch where you place your prodder, or you may find my pecker draws blood,” warned the other druid.

“Then, may I ask that you fly free, young Urt?” begged Paechra. “I must away myself, mother has called, and I have kept her waiting for far too long.”

“I thought that all had a choice?” smirked Isobella-Ann.

“Such were the words of the mother druid,” agreed Paechra. “But such rules do not often apply when you are dealing with your own mother.”

“Especially true when your mother is Sarah Lightheart,” Isobella-Ann laughed. “Perhaps you are the Urt who must fly.”

“Something that we can both agree upon,” said Paechra. “Sister Isobella-Ann I do hope at the end of this all that you discover what has been sacrificed and what sacrifices are yet to come are worth it for sylvan and human alike.”

Isobella-Ann nodded and then turned, walking away from Paechra.

The younger Lightheart spent a few moments more looking out over the ocean before she noticed that the wind in the sails had died down slightly. Not sure of what that meant, Paechra hurried on towards the bow of the Picturesque Piceresque.

When Paechra arrived, she discovered looks of confusion, shared amongst her sisters.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Paechra. “The ship must sail, the wind must blow, if those sheets of canvas slack there are no rowers but us sisters.”

“I fear that what you believe is canvas may in fact be cured skins, human, sylvan, ghoul, who truly knows,” murmured Heidi.

Paechra gave her friend a look which quietened Heidi immediately, but Paechra knew that her friend was possibly correct. She made a mental note that she would need to offer apologies to Heidi later that same day. For now, though it was important to get the strong wind blowing again.

“Sisters, we should be chanting, we need to be speaking to the wind,” urged Paechra. “What is the reason for this pause?”

“Sister Lightheart,” cried a couple of the druids. “You need to see this…”

The group of druids parted to show on the bow-deck what looked to be a large, sky-blue colored cocoon.

“What matter of creature is this, sisters?” Paechra demanded to know. “Is this some ghoulish trick that the captain has pulled?”

Heidi and a few other druids sucked in deep breaths of shock.

“Paechra, my daughter, unfortunately I must inform you that you have just suggested Mother Druid Sienna Alknown is some sort of insect larvae.”

“The mother druid?” gasped Paechra. “That is Sienna Alknown.”

“I am afraid so,” said Sarah Lightheart as she gave a look of disapproval to her daughter.

“How?” said Paechra, both embarrassed and confused. “Why? How did it happen?”

“We hoped that Sienna may have said something to you daughter,” said Sarah. “We were all chanting the prayer, the wind was blowing strong and steady, as you are well aware.”

Paechra nodded but said nothing, not trusting her voice at that moment.

“As we continued to sing the song to the wind we all witnessed All-knowing Sienna was yawning, not adding her voice to the song.”

“The mother druid is Alknown,” muttered Sarah though she did not say this too loudly.

“One by one, we all slowed in our prayer as we watched Sienna transform,” continued Heidi.

“The yawning became longer and more often and then this strange substance began to rise up from the deck to encase our mother druid,” stated some of Paechra’s sisters.

“It coated her feet and then rose up to her knees…” continued others.

“We tried to continue speaking to the wind,” suggested Sarah Lightheart. “But eventually such a sight, such a strange transformation proved too great a distraction.”

Paechra nodded, she understood, such a sight would have stolen her focus also.

“And the wind; is no one guiding the ship?” Paechra asked.

“Daughter Paechra, the wind blows where e’er it will,” replied her mother, the older Lightheart.

“You summoned me, mother?” said the daughter.

“Yes, Paechra,” replied Sarah. “I sent Isobella-Ann to find you as soon as Sienna started to transform, she was supposed to return with you, to hurry you to assist.”

“She did not,” said Paechra. “In fact, she waylaid me and then walked away… There was no mention of urgency.”

“I see,” murmured Sarah.

“I must seek an audience with Captain Overtain,” announced Paechra. “We must know if this has happened before, is it a curse from the ship, an effect of our spell, some trick that the ghouls have played upon us?”

“Halt, daughter, this is not your sole responsibility,” announced Sarah Lightheart. “I shall join you when we face this ghoul.”

“Mother I have faced Overtain before,” stated Paechra. “I’ll do this.”

“Have you forgotten, Paechra, I have been the last one to speak with this ghoul, if any of us are to speak with him about this it should be me.”

Paechra sighed as she realized that there would be no winning an argument with her mother.

“Come, then, we go together,” she said.

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