Awakening

Ewan was awakened by the cold, biting sting of something falling onto his face. He opened his eyes, to be confronted with a visage out of nightmares. The eyes were round, sticking out on the sides, swivelling independently to track the environment, its skin was bright red, with dashes of yellow livening it up, and to complete the picture were wide, webbed legs that rested on his chin while the lizard-like face inspected his.

Another drop of the creature's saliva fell upon his face, recreating the cold, biting sensation. The feel of the saliva, plus the easily recognizable creature created a panic that moved Ewan.

A warbler, sitting on my chest! In the name of the gods, if it bites me I am dead. Panic does strange things, most would have recommended remaining still and hoping the warbler would wander off; in his panic Ewan sat up, throwing the creature off him to land in a bush by his feet. It hissed at him, the bright blue hood coming up as it contemplated him. Evidently it decided he was not a threat and would not make a good meal as it turned to wander off into the underbrush, trilling out its distinctive warbling call as it did so.

Where am I? This is not where I fell asleep! Ewan stared around him, wondering how he came to be in a forest, surrounded by plants that were as brightly coloured as the warbler. Where is the inn, my pack, my friends? He knelt down, feeling the soil, seeing the tiny insects wandering through, the bands of red and yellow marking them as poisonous as the plants and the warbler.

He stood up, hoping to at least get some lay of the land from a higher vantage point, hoping that the thick underbrush that blocked his sight from a sitting position would give way to let him see further. He had no luck, where the underbrush ended, massive hanging vines came down. They were covered with flowers; massive ones that were twice the size of his head and exuded a thick, clogging perfume.

Is this the test? The Elders said that I would be tested but never said how. If this is the test, what am I meant to do? I had better try and make as much sense of this as best I can. He sat, trying to sort his thoughts as they tumbled through. The Elder druids would not want me to die, would they? If this is a test I must be able to survive it. An unwanted thought surged to the fore, one that made him look around fearfully. What if this is not a test? What if this is just a way for those who are opposed to my ascendancy trying to get rid of me, while being able to state under truth spell they never killed me? Elder Jochim hates my heritage, hates me and Elder Thadal has stated that he does not believe those of mixed blood should be allowed to ascend beyond the rank of initiate.

He stilled his fear, standing and staring into the surrounding forest. I am an initiate of the Druidic circle of the Great Mother. I am one with nature. It is time to use my knowledge instead of fearing the forest. Be it a test or an attempted assassination, I will survive. Slowly he sank to the ground, his head dropping to moist soil, making contact with the earth below.

****

In an inn, many miles away, a group of five people sat around a table. The centre of the table was dominated by a large crystal bowl, filled with pure, clear mountain water. The people standing over the bowl saw a picture within. They did not gaze upon their own reflections, but that of a young man, alone in a forest. The man's features were fine, his nose a delicate instrument below triangular eyes that appeared almost turquoise. His fingers, as they were spread out on the ground in front of him were thin, delicate, the same as his arms. Thick, golden hair, cut short in the front but left to hang loose down his neck, covered most of his back.

"Look, see how quickly he reverts to his training. This one is talented; he should pass the test of ascendancy."

The man speaking was dressed in plain brown robes; his eyes were deep sunken beneath large bushy eyebrows that met in the middle.

"Elder Tiresin, you have oft favoured this boy. I still say we risk too much in allowing him to ascend. He carries the blood of the fey, he cannot be trusted!" The voice of Thadal boomed out, a contrast to his small, slight body and delicate features. "The whole order is dedicated to protecting reality as we know it from the fey, why allow one, whose loyalties may be to his mother's kin, access to our deepest teachings?"

Another voice was raised, this one belonging to a man whose body had a marked resemblance to a bear and his face to that of a hog. "Elder Thadal speaks the truth. Let us lead the boy to destruction, make sure he dies and cannot ever be a threat to us."

"Elder Jochim, you have long argued for the expulsion or destruction of this child. Why do you hate him so much?" The voice of Feria was soft, melodic, reflecting what she was best known for; her recitations of the ancient ballads and laws. "This matter was put to rest in the past when he first came to the order for admittance. It was decided then that he was welcome, and that decision has never been changed. The majority still abides by that decision."

"Does it?" Jochim turned to the last of the five that stood over the bowl. "Elder Cedi, you are new to this council and were not present when the initial vote was taken. Do you support that decision?"

Tiresin sucked in his breath, looking at Cedi, wondering what his response would be. Damn Jochim and Thadal, I wondered why the entire council came for a simple testing; now I know!

Cedi's voice was soft, her features hard, angular. It would be too simplistic to call her ugly. In those lines and hard angles was a beauty that defied classification but appealed to a few. "I will not vote to change that decision; let it stand. But I do wish to extend his testing. Let us make sure of his loyalties. If he should fail or die, then so be it. Better the safety of the Order than worry about the life of a single half-breed."

The smiles on the faces of Jochim and Thadal revealed much. They had asked for a death sentence, but were happy with this proxy.

***

Ewan spread his fingers into the soil beneath him, his head touching the ground. Slowly he spread out his body, bringing as much of it into contact with the earth as possible. He blanked his mind, clearing it of all extraneous thoughts, opening it wide to feel the patterns of the earth.

He lost track of time, the ground beneath slowly becoming as one with him. He felt the scuttling of insects within their hidden tunnels, the vibrations of a web as an unfortunate insect blundered into its trap. Slowly his identity drifted away and he felt the roots going deep, seeking out sustenance. And slowly he learnt.

The sun had started its journey across the sky when he lifted his head. Half the morning had gone, but he knew where he was. The jungles of the South, how did I get here? Nothing to do but start walking, who knows, perhaps I will even come across one of the tree cities of the Biddui.

He stretched, relieving muscles complaining of being in one position for too long. He knew the nearest edge of the forest would be to the east, but in that way lay mountains and desert. The west lead to the coast and many small fishing villages; far more chance of finding help and a trip back to civilization lay there.

I wish I was in something besides my nightclothes. My feet are going to suffer on this ground.

The way was not easy. Ewan had to push his way through the foliage, fight his way through the bushes, weeds and vines that made this green, dense landscape. The day was not hot, yet he was soon sweating from exertion. He stopped yet again to wipe beads of sweat away from his forehead. Once more he wished he had a headband to keep the sweat out of his eyes.

***

"He forgets his lessons. The boy is blundering about. If he keeps this up it will be a week before he gets anywhere." Tiresin watched Ewan within the bowl, shaking his head at the boy's antics and turned to the other watchers. "Why does he not call on Mother Earth to help him? It is well within his capabilities to move through those bushes with ease."

"Fear not, Tiresin. Ewan will remember. At the moment he suffers from two sets of confusion: One as a result of our placing him within the forest while he slept; the other the residue from his melding with the earth. Have patience, old friend."

Grumbling to himself, his words inaudible, Tiresin turned back to the bowl, recognizing the truth of Feria's words, yet wondering if the boy had truly absorbed the lessons painstakingly taught to him.

***

Ewan's face had begun to blister where the saliva of the warbler had fallen. His hands, arms, leg and feet sported tiny cuts and scratches, some of which were inflamed and reddened from the sap of the poisonous plants he pushed his way through. He stared up to the sky, at the canopy of leaves and got thrown back into memories that were supposed to be impossible.

The sky overhead was emerald with the sun shining through the massive leaves that made up the roof. Around the bier bustled the midwife, her goat-like legs sinking into the deep mulch around her. In the corner stood a human, his face covered by a massive beard, his black hair wild and unkempt. The midwife glared at him often, even as she patted the face of the woman on the bed before her.

"Your kind kills us in your coming. You knew this, and now this daughter of the forest will perish to birth your son! Your life is forfeit this day, human. You owe thanks to the King that he allows you to stay alive to witness the birth of your child."

The man stared at the ground, his eyes filled with tears, his hands clenching and unclenching before him. "I did not know she was with child. She never told me she intended to conceive."

He got no answer, for the midwife was busy with the doomed mother, her hands soft on her body. Once again she smoothed her green brow, wiping away the sweat of the mother's exertions. Even as she did so, the mother convulsed and her mouth opened in a silent scream as she arched her back. A stream of greenish liquid shot forth and the crown of the baby's head came forth. The midwife knelt between her legs, gently pulling the child forth, cutting the cord that had given him life within his mother's womb.

"It is a boy, Ewanieele." Gently the midwife wrapped the child in a cotton blanket, handing him to his mother who lay gasping, the bright green of her skin fading into dullness. She smiled and gripped the midwife behind her neck.

"My dying words free my husband. Send him forth unharmed into his world. Let his child grow up amongst his people. It is my dying wish." With those words her mouth shut, never to open again.

The midwife took the child, handing him to the father. "Go, now! Her dying words free you; none amongst us will act against such a wish."

The man turned and walked away, the child squirming in his arms, bawling and looking for a teat that was not to be found.

Ewan came out of his memories, as he tripped over a hidden root. He stared up at the canopy overhead, noting the differences between it and the roof of his dreams. He sat and inspected his feet. They are worn and tired, yet they had not cut and bled. Mother Earth helps me as I wander. What would Elder Tiresin say if he could see me now?

And with that thought, came another, and he laughed. He would call me foolish and a dreamer, a good for nothing child that forgets his lessons. Why do I struggle through these bushes when I could sail on the love of the Earth Mother?

Smiling, he stood, holding his hands at his side. He kept his eyes down as he communed with the nature around him, brought it within, and started walking. The bushes no longer clutched at him, the roots no longer tripped, instead it was as if a path opened, and then shut behind him. He continued his journey with ease.

***

"There you go, Taliesin. I told you he would come to it eventually." Feria leaned forward, her next words sent mentally, and privately, to Taliesin alone. "For any other this would be enough, proof he can commune with nature and be accepted by her. I worry what the others have planned, though."

"I follow your thoughts, Feria. We must be alert; I do not trust the wiles of Jochim. He has long hated the boy and would be ecstatic to see him die." Taliesin's face betrayed nothing of his communication, yet he caught Jochim staring at him, as if he had somehow followed the private communication. I grow paranoid, Jochim could not have heard, it is merely my nervousness for the life of Ewan that makes me see something that is not there.

***

Ewan walked through the plants. In commune with the Earth Mother this had become a trivial task and his mind was engaged with other things. He continuously looked around, alert for signs of anything edible, or for clean water. It had been long since he last ate, and it would soon be midday. As he searched, his stomach reminded him of another day, another search for food.

"Your mother was of the woods, one of the fey. Her blood flows within you, making you of the woods." His father smiled, his hand reaching down to ruffle the boy's golden curls. "You look like her, her face was similar to yours and her eyes... Your eyes are hers; I used to lie next to her and stare into those eyes for hours, for her kind never closed them."

The two walked together through the forest. The trees were widely spaced with little undergrowth to speak of. The acidic needles of the trees lay upon the ground, protecting their roots, not allowing any competitors to take root beneath them.

They had been walking for hours and Ewan felt almost faint from hunger. His father had woken him up before dawn and started their current hike. Throughout the morning he had spoken of Ewan's mother, talking about her, telling stories of her, but had said no word of where they were going.

"Da, where are we going? I am hungry!" Ewan looked at the bulk of his father. He almost worshipped the massive man whose strength lay in more than his wide shoulders. People came long distances to learn from him the lore of herb and plants; with no druids in the area he was the sole source of healing and succour in a week's walk.

"We go to your mother's kin. They have summonsed you; they want to make sure that you are well."

His father said nothing more, but continued walking. Ewan marvelled, he had heard tales of the fey, but always they were the enemy in the dark. Killing humans and attempting to drive them into the sea for having the temerity to live where the fey could not. His father had told him not to trust those stories, that the ignorant and hateful spread such lies, after all, had his mother not been of the fey?

They continued their walk, and Ewan grew hungrier as time passed. Slowly the forest around them began to change, the leaves seemed greener and the smell of the forest was rich and thick. They were moving towards a gap between two giant trees when the creature confronted them.

The creature was vaguely humanoid, its arms swung low and its brow was small. Its entire body was covered with hair and its belly hung almost to the ground. It approached them; small, black eyes regarded Ewan and his father.

"Your life is forfeit, human. You killed the daughter of the forest, now I will kill you." The creature lunged at Ewan's father, its massive, hairy arm sweeping out at an inhuman speed. It caught Ewan's father on the shoulder, ripping through muscle and bone, leaving his arm daggling by a thread of muscle.

In pain he sank to the ground, his face contorted as he watched his blood staining the ground beneath. "Why? I came for I was summonsed."

The creature laughed. "Some obey the King; others owe allegiance to the old law. Your life was forfeit ten years ago, and today the debt has been paid!"

It turned and contemplated Ewan. "Flee, half-breed. Your kind does not belong here. If you are still here at nightfall you will be destroyed." It said nothing more; turning away and disappearing into the surrounding trees.

Ewan lay down next to his father, sobbing. He clung to him, wishing he could do something, anything, but the wound was too grave. He sat, not knowing what to do until a hand fell upon his shoulder. He looked up into the eyes of a man, dressed in plain brown robes.

The man knelt down, inspecting the body of Ewan's father. "There is nothing we can do for him, boy. Come, this is no place to tarry. A hunt comes, for once again humans fight the fey." He gripped Ewan by the shoulder, pulling him up. He gave a small grunt of surprise when he saw Ewan's features, but nothing more. His hand never left Ewan's shoulder as he turned, walking the boy away from where his father's body lay.

Ewan stopped, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes as he remembered the day of his father's death. Since that day he had never gone hungry, the Druidic College had looked after their charges well. He had studied, learning the lessons Taliesin taught him, surpassing many of his fellows. Yet as much as he offered help to others, no matter how much he debased himself and fought for acceptance, he remained forever an outsider, his fey blood marking him as much as the tattoo of a thief did.

His mind wandering, he lost his connection to the Earth Mother. It did not bother him much, for he could re-establish it easily enough. Besides, it was time for a break and some of the mushrooms growing on the sides of the trees could well prove to be edible. He moved to examine them, carefully examining their stems and frills. He picked a few, confident they would not harm him. He sat on the ground, his back against the tree and started eating the fist sized mushrooms.

***

"It is time for his test." Jochim's smile reminded Taliesin of a cat about to devour a trapped mouse. "Let us see what he does when confronted with his own people!"

Taliesin frowned, looking at Jochim in consternation. "What are you talking about? The test is meant to be far from any of the fey. Surely you do not mean to throw him, unarmed and unprepared against the enemy?"

Thadal laughed, "Of course we do. How else will we know whom he serves, us or his mother's kin? As Cedi said, it is best to be certain. If he perishes, it will be with honour, surely that is better than living in suspicion."

Feria looked at the three that stood together, "You planned this beforehand, did you not? Since when has the council been divided by such a minor matter? Why do you have this animosity to a mere initiate, be he of fey blood, what is truly afoot here?"

Thadal opened his mouth, and closed it quickly as Cedi spoke. "We are not certain of Ewan for a simple reason, we are not certain of who his mother was. Certain rumours hint that she was more than just another of the fey, perhaps even related to the king! What if the whole purpose of Ewan is to learn our secrets, what if everything has been staged to make sure he gains a place amongst us; only to betray us in the future?"

Fools, the boy hates the fey, he never knew his mother and saw them kill his father, what makes them think such things? Taliesin's face must have betrayed his thoughts, for the three bowed to him, their hands coming up in the sign of peace.

"Peace, Taliesin. Do not destroy the council over a single initiate. He is not yet dead and may survive if his wits are sharp and he remembers the lessons you struggled so hard to inculcate." Jochim stepped forward and placed his hand on Taliesin's shoulder.

"We have known each other for an age and we have sent people to their deaths for good purpose before. This will not just be a testing encounter, but will furnish us with information that will help in the war. Do you begrudge us using his fey blood to gain information that no other could?"

Taliesin sighed, gripping the hand of Jochim in the clasp of brotherhood. "You are right, he is but another of our Order. Yet I have stood as father to him these last ten years, he is as a son to me. My heart and mind are not clear when it comes to this one." He turned away, clearing his eyes of the tears that stood within, before turning back to the bowl, to follow the progress of Ewan.

***

The mushrooms tasted woody, their flesh dry and coarse. Still, they filled his stomach and stopped his craving for food. A bulb broken open yielded a sweet supply of water, slaking his thirst and the dryness of throat caused by the mushrooms. His need for food and drink sated, Ewan stood to continue his journey. A moment of concentration, and he felt his connection to Earth Mother restored. He started forward, heading ever westwards towards the coast and, hopefully, a boat trip back to civilisation.

A few more hours travel and the forest began to change. He looked around, concerned. As on that memorable day when his father had been killed, the colours had begun to change, to become more vibrant, more alive. He looked around for the gate he knew must be in the area, remembering the lessons that had been presided over by Taliesin.

"Beware travelling through forests in unknown areas. For most, it is safe, nothing will come of them. Those attuned to the Earth Mother, either naturally or through training such as yours, run a risk of meeting the enemy." He stepped up, walking between the seated students, looking at each in turn.

"As yet, you are all too ill trained to find a fey path by yourself, but in time you will find them all too easily. This College is built near a major gate, a path that once allowed masses of fey to come through and clear these lands of our presence. Who here knows how to detect the presence of a fey road?"

The seated students shifted and fidgeted in their seats. They had been given scrolls of vellum to read, but for most reading was a difficult task, something they had only recently learned. Ewan was no exception, but he had another way of knowing.

"The plants change? The leaves become brighter and the trees taller." His voice was almost lost in the noise of shuffling and fidgeting students. He rarely spoke, not wanting to be noticed, always fading into the background. The others turned to look at him, most giving him hostile looks.

"Correct. When you enter the outskirts of a fey road you will see the colours become brighter, more distinct. You will also always see a gate that leads to the actual road. Sometimes it will be small, simply two low branches that arch over a small opening, at other times it will be huge, such as the Dolmen gate that lies near here. Search very carefully for that gate before you accidentally go through, it is not always a two way gate and who knows where you will find a road back home?"

His memories guiding him, Ewan searched, trying to find the gate, the pathway into the world of the enemy. He could not see it; perhaps it was further in, requiring him to walk further into the border realm. He started to do so, and then stopped. Some innate sense warned him and directed his gaze upwards, into the canopy, towards the massive leaves that arched overhead, reflecting emerald light down even as they formed a massive gateway into the realm beyond.

My memory! I was born near here, the place cannot be far. Heedless of the danger he started forward, pressing further into the interior, not caring that he may be trapped. He looked for the bier within that canopy of leaves- a bier that would be surrounded by the thick mulch of ages from leaves falling to the earth.

"So half-breed, you come to our realm." The voice came from within the trees, the speaker hidden by the undergrowth.

"You walk as one of the accursed human druids; you bend the Earth Mother to your will instead of bending yourself to her will. What do you want here, half-breed?" Another voice, this speaker also hidden from sight, the voice soft, carried to him by the wind.

"Why do you come here, half-breed?" The question whispered from the trees around, so many voices, and so many intonations.

Ewan turned around, the world felt like it was spinning, the words from the trees echoing in his mind. He fell to the ground, asking himself the same question, "Why did I come here?" He lay there, rolling over, staring at the canopy above, the emerald light filtering down, and he knew.

Slowly he stood and looked upwards. He spoke into the air, not knowing where to address, where the fey actually were. "I come to find my kin. A long time ago my father was invited to present me, yet he died because one of you did not wish me to come into your realm. Now I seek that meeting. I need to know, am I one of you, or your enemy."

"Who knows child, perhaps the Earth Mother will tell us."

Ewan turned and faced a figure from his memory. The midwife had not changed in the intervening years. She looked no different now to how she had looked when she had handed his swaddled, new-born self to his father.

"Come, you were to be presented ten years ago; a long time for the humans, but a mere eye blink to us." She held out her hand.

In a dream-like state he reached out, his hand meeting hers. Silently she turned into the forest, leading him deep into the realm.

***

"You see?" Jochim's voice was jubilant, his eyes malevolent in the room's dim light. "He does not fight them, he follows them! He goes to his mother's kin. He will betray us!"

"Not so, Jochim. For now, he follows his curiosity, his desire to reach out to those who might recognise him. His father had no family, and he has grown up alone amongst humans who see the enemy within, and never Ewan the person. He has not betrayed us yet, perhaps he will not." Taliesin watched the boy following the goat-legged woman, wondering what choices would be made this day.

***

Ewan followed the midwife, noting how much easier she crossed the ground on her hooves compared to his bare feet. She led him through the canopy, through a wide arch decorated with flowers. The ground underfoot was soft, gently caressing his bare feet. Through the arch was a large amphitheatre.

The tiered slope leading down to the bottom were occupied by hundreds of the fey. Ewan was led down, through the seated audience, to the platform below. As he approached he could see it held two large thrones, one occupied by a fey that had green skin, eyes of turquoise, and wore clothes of blue and gold. The other was occupied by a woman that made Ewan stumble; the face was identical to the one from his birth memory.

The seated figures examined him carefully as he approached. At the bottom the midwife let go of his hand, moving to the side to take a seat on the lowest row of the tiered amphitheatre, while indicating to Ewan to continue forward.

Slowly Ewan moved forward, dropping to his knee and bending his head when he reached the foot of the thrones. The whole multitude was silent, the scene a tableau that could easily have been captured upon a tapestry, the unearthly colours and multitudinous forms of the fey a scene out of mythology and legend. For a brief period it seemed as if this was, truly, but a painting, nothing moved, all was silent as if the Earth Mother herself held her breath while she awaited the outcome.

The king stared down at the half-breed before him, his face neutral, perhaps his lips bitten back to hide his emotions, be they of sadness or anger. The queen was different, unhidden, unbidden, tears streamed down her face. She stood and knelt down, taking Ewan's face between her hands, raising it to look into his eyes. As the tears rolled down, she gently stroked his hair back, her touch enough to heal the blisters on his face.

"You have her eyes." Amongst her tears a smile of warmth and acceptance. She stood up, raising Ewan to his feet by gently lifting his head with her hand and then pulling him to his feet.

The king descended from his throne and grabbed Ewan in a massive hug, his grip strong, but the tears that now flowed from his eyes, the look of love he gave Ewan acknowledgement that here stood his kin.

"It is time for those who watch to be dismissed!" A swipe of his hand through the air and Ewan felt as if a thread had been broken, torn away from above his head.

Those who watch? Do the druids watch, was this truly a test? Never mind that now. Here I am accepted by my mother's kin!

***

In the room the bowl went dark. The five members of the council looked at one another.

"We did not learn much of the fey we did not know before." Taliesin looked at the others, "though it would appear as if the rumours of Ewan's mother were true. The question is; what happens next?"

The five looked at each other, and it was Cedi who finally broke the silence.

"We can but wait and see. I do not believe we can trust Ewan with our deeper teachings if he returns."

Taliesin bowed his head. How could he disagree with such a judgement after what they had seen?

***

The day was fading into night. A massive bonfire was lit in the clearing and the masses from the amphitheatre encircled it. The king, queen, Ewan and a handful of others sat at table facing the fire, watching the festivities. Wild music beat against the night as the fey twisted and turned, dancing around the blaze. Faster and faster they spun, the circle turning, twisting, spiralling around, each dancer a cog in some massive wheel.

Ewan watched, amazed at the spectacle. He saw how if one watched an individual dancer the movements seemed chaotic, uncoordinated, and random. Ahh, but if one looked at the circle as a whole, stepped back, took in the entirety of the circle, suddenly that dancer seemed to be part of a whole, turning perfectly in tune with their place in the circle, in the cycle of the dance.

His grandmother leaned over, placing yet more food upon his plate. "Do you see it, Ewan? Feel the beat, the dance. Find your place in it. Do not hurry, for it will come in its own time." She smiled, licking the gravy of some unknown meat from her fingers.
On his other side the king sat and sipped from an ornate silver goblet. Ewan refrained from examining it too closely. A brief glance had shown it to be a skull; he did not wish to know if it was fey or human.

"So, Grandson, what do you think of your kin? I had hoped to see you sooner, but fate conspired to keep us apart." He sighed, and looked across at Ewan, before his face broke open into a wide smile. "Never mind the past; you are here now, where you belong!"

Ewan remained silent watching the revel before him, the figures that became silhouettes as the darkness deepened as the sole light became the flickering of the fire. He did not realise it, but slowly he stood, walking towards the fire. For a moment he stood, the dancers wheeling about him, the circle contracting and expanding as it moved, his figure a rock around which the dancers whirled and gyrated.

He started to dance. Slowly at first, his arms flung out, his body turning, in place. Then he moved, running, leaping, head thrown back, arms pumping, legs taking him through the circle. The circle was chaos, yet no dancer crashed into another, the fabric of life connected them all, moving each according to his destiny. And through the chaos Ewan moved, a thread that connected many, moving outwards as if searching for something not there, moving inwards, dancing next to the king around whom many of the dancers whirled.

He danced, and he understood. He knew who he was, what his role was. He knew now what his thread was. He saw the fey of the wind that passed through the rest, the fey of the earth a solid foundation around which the fey of the trees, plants and animals built their theme. All moved around the king, the personification of their world, and from the king to the queen, she who personified the theme of growth, death and rebirth.

Ewan danced, sometimes in conjunction to the themes of the others, at other times intersecting, almost opposing them. He saw those who were the gateways through which the themes moved, how some of them stumbled, struggled to maintain their place in the whole. As he danced he realised where they stumbled, how his dance was what crossed their path, cut off their rhythm. He whirled past his grandparents, not in obeisance as the others, but as an equal, and their themes were intertwined.

He smiled, moving out of the dance, heading away from the fire and the circle that mimicked life itself. He did not find it hard to find the road; and when he left the realm of the fey, it was via the great Dolmen gate that stood outside the College.

It was two hours before midnight when he walked into the council chamber. He was alone for the moment, but he knew it would not be long before they came. How could they not?

***

The five council members sat in their places. The table at which they arranged themselves curved round, with Felia in the middle. They each examined Ewan, who stood silently before them. It was not difficult to see that he had changed in the course of the day. When they had taken him and placed him in the Southern forests for testing, he had been uncertain, always walking with a slight stoop, his lack of confidence almost a banner.

Now he stood before them confident. He stood straighter than before, his eyes reflecting not just the lights of the room that shone harshly down on him, but the emerald of the canopy within the realms of the fey. His presence radiated calm, no sense of fear or nervousness marred his demeanour; no trace of awe at being faced by the five paramount members of the Council could be detected. His very confidence unnerved the members of the council.

For his part, Ewan regarded the members of the council. Their unease was palpable, and brought to him thoughts of times past. He remembered himself as a boy, before one or another of the council as they watched him being questioned; examined to see if he had learnt his lessons, absorbed the necessary knowledge, and, in hindsight, had learnt the correct attitude to adopt.

He smiled inwardly, the knowledge of the lessons well ingrained; he always had been a good student, even if he had made mistakes this day. What was to become of him at this hour was the question on his mind. So he stood in silence as they examined him. A flash of light of a small metal disk on the wrist of Taliesin brought back memories of another examination...

The sunlight shone through a break in the trees. The group of boys stood in pairs, staves at the ready. The weapons master moved between them, watching as they sparred. Ewan had been paired with Sedd, a boy that dominated him physically, but whose intellect seemed to be sorely lacking.

As they sparred Ewan could see the pattern of Sedd's attacks and defences. He was no warrior, relying on brute strength to try and batter his way in. Time after time Ewan side stepped the attacks, and brought his staff down in a point scoring hit. Sedd was getting angrier as time wore on and his attacks began to take on the semblance of real attempts to do harm. The weapons master either did not notice, or did not care and eventually the inevitable happened, Ewan failed to move aside quickly enough and the staff came crashing down on his head. He fell, unconscious, with his head streaming blood, to the ground.

When he awoke it was to the sight of an old copper medallion in front of his eyes. It kept reflecting the light of the sun, blinding him and sending shooting pains through his head every time the light lanced into his eyes. Perhaps his consciousness was hidden to the others, or perhaps they did not care if he heard, for he could hear the healer talking to the weapons master.

"The half-breed will be fine. He will have to be watched for a few days to make sure there are no lasting ill effects. Are you sure this was an accident?"

The weapons master's effeminate voice sounded harsh to the reviving Ewan. "I believe so, though I cannot be certain. I will not punish the other boy; this one does not belong here!"

Those long ago words came back to Ewan now, as he stood, watching the light catch the medallion on Taliesin's wrist. I do not belong. I have never belonged, but my coming here was just a part of my dance. I must play the part fate has ordained. The dance showed me what must happen, what my role is. Perhaps, in time, I will belong, both here and amongst my mother's kin.

"Honoured committee members, may I address you?" Ewan's voice rang out; firm, polite, but demanding attention. In turn each of the committee members moved to place a block of wood in front of them, signifying their willingness to listen.

"You have all known me from when I first came here as a young child. Some of you have taught me, and others have observed my progress and tested me, over time. Today was my test to pass beyond the ranks of the initiates and into the ranks of the ascended." He paused, thinking carefully on his next words before continuing.

"Today taught me much. I do not know if it was your intention to reunite me with my family, or if that was just a coincidence of the path. If it was just coincidence, then it was fortunate one indeed!"

"Fortunate, half-breed?" The voice of Jochim rang out. "We sought to see how you would react to the enemy, and you embraced them! We should kill you now as traitor to us all!"

"Hush Jochim, Ewan has more to say. Let him finish before you call out the executioners!" Felia spoke, seeking to calm the situation before tempers flared and rash action was taken.

"Yes Jochim, let the boy speak. Let him condemn himself from his own mouth." Thadal looked ay Ewan, gloating. "I have long wanted to remove this one from our midst, and I do believe he will give us our excuse this night."

Ewan sighed and shook his head. "I am no traitor, nor do I wish to bring any harm to those present. But you need to understand what happened to me this night."

He stepped forward, trying to meet the eyes of each present, but found that neither Jochim not Thadal would meet his gaze. He sighed, the hostility of the two would be hard to overcome; hopefully they would still listen with open minds.

"I danced with the fey. They took me to the middle of their realm, in which the king and queen sit and bind them together. No human has seen the dance, just as no human has been to that point of their realm. "

"They are not humanity. They are not individuals that sometimes come together in a brief moment of understanding. They are completely different. A thread connects them all, tying their lives together, binding them into the cycle of the world. They do not choose their path; their path is chosen for them. That is why their forms vary, for form follows function."

He paused, emotion tightening his throat, bringing tears to his eyes as he continued, "As disease sometimes strikes in nature, so, too, does it strike amongst the fey. A diseased portion began the war with humanity; a diseased portion killed my father. The fey are tied to the cycle of nature, they cannot help their natures any more than a hurricane can change its path or an earthquake choose where to strike."

He knelt down, his eyes looking up at the people seated above him. "It is time for peace. The disease has passed through the fey and they are whole. I am the conduit that can speak for both sides in this. The blood of the fey gives me a place in their dance, the blood of humans makes me independent and able to act. I beg you to stop the war. I beg you to come with me to make peace, to open the fey roads before more harm is done."

He stayed on the ground, kneeling, not looking up, as he finished speaking. He waited, hoping that his pleas would be heard.

"I told you he was a traitor. Open the fey roads? Grant their armies access to our homes, our realm?" The voice of Jochim was loud; he shouted his answer out before any of the others could speak.

To Ewan's surprise, it was not Taliesin or Feria that countered the accusations of Jochim, but Thadal.

"Rise, Ewan. I would ask a question of you." Thadal waited as Ewan stood, and then continued, "You say the fey are tied to nature, to their roles in the cycle; if that is so, then why the war, why their attacks on us?"

Ewan clasped his hands, hoping to hide the excitement he felt that it was one of his enemies that sought to understand. "The war was with those whose role had been destroyed. Humans changed the landscape, destroyed parts of the forest and blocked the roads." He paused, trying to frame his thoughts into words. "The roads are not just the pathways of the fey into our world; they are the pathways they use to travel to complete their affairs. Block the roles and they are blocked from their role in the cycle of nature. In time, this drove some of them mad, and thus their attacks on us."

"They have learnt how to bypass the blocked roads. Just as nature is ever changing, so are the roles of the fey. As the world has evolved, so have they. Now there are fey whose role is to interact as humanity, just as there are fey whose role it is to tend the trees and rivers. Those fey need to pass into our midst so they can bring their dance to our doorway."
The silence in the room held for a long while. Eventually Feria stood, moving the block to show the meeting was over.

"It is late, and we are all tired. Let us contemplate what we have learned this day. Ewan, you are free to return to your room. In time we will summon you and let you know what we have decided."

Ewan bowed, turned, and left the room. He could feel their eyes on him as he walked out. Perhaps a new era is to begin; I can but pray it is so.

His bed was soft, the call of the insects outside a soothing music that recalled the beating of the music of the fey. As he drifted off into sleep Ewan saw his father and mother, together. A premonition, perhaps, of how one day the fey and mankind would stand together, united.