from the Other Side, did he? The old fox.”
Brendan silently cursed himself. “I haven’t even told Kim that. Why did I just blurt it out to you?”
Merddyn laughed, winking slyly. “You have to get up pretty early in the morning to get anything past old Merddyn.” He laughed again and it was an infectious sound. Brendan found he couldn’t help but join in.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a doughnut?” Merddyn said at last, tipping the box toward Brendan.
“No thanks,” Brendan declined. “You were talking about the People of the Moon and Metal.”
“Yes.” Merddyn plucked out a doughnut with pale brown icing. He took a dainty bite and closed his eyes with pleasure. “Mmmm. Maple. I do love it so. Who could imagine a tree might produce such a delightful flavour?”
“Sir?”
“Oh, yes. Two tribes.”
Merddyn began his tale.
^ 45 Renaissance painters were very fond of women with big noses. Leonardo da Vinci was quoted as saying, “A woman is really just the ideal life support system for a large and wonderful nose.” Granted, he was a weirdo.
HISTORY
“The People of Metal and the Fair Folk lived together then. The jealousies and fears that caused the later fracture were yet to rear their ugly heads. The two tribes of Sun and Moon complemented each other, shared each other’s strengths. The balance was kept for many eons.”
“What happened?” Brendan asked. He was having trouble grasping the expanses of time Merddyn was speaking about. Could there really have been a time when Humans and Faeries shared the world?
“What always happens when the world seems too simple and peaceful: there were those in both tribes who grew to mistrust the others. Some of the Fair Folk tired of the People of Metal’s appetite for change and disrespect for the Earth: the digging, mining, burning, and cutting of the forests to build their homes and towns. Among the Humans, some assumed that the Fair Folk harboured secrets and riches that they refused to share with their Human brethren.”
“What was the truth?” Brendan asked.
Merddyn sighed. “The truth is never simple. The Humans tended to take what they needed when they needed it. They lacked the insight of the Fair Folk. They couldn’t feel the harm they did to the Earth. They were like children, unwittingly devouring the world around them as they multiplied and spread to fill its open spaces.
“For our part, we Fair Folk tended to remain aloof from the Humans. Many of us began to look upon them as a nuisance and a burden to be avoided. We started to seek our own company in the wild places, out of reach of the Humans. That was a mistake, but an honest one. It only served to make our actions more mysterious and arouse further suspicion in the Humans. They began to fear us.
“The conflict started with small incidents. Here and there, individuals clashed. Hatred grew. Soon there was open warfare between our tribes. The destruction was terrible and the loss of life unspeakable. Something had to be done to return the peace before one side or the other was destroyed.
“I gathered a council of Fair Folk and Humans and we formed an alliance. We’d fight together to restore order. We knew accommodation with the Humans was necessary. The People of Metal multiplied much faster than we ever could, and one day they would vastly outnumber us. If we didn’t strike some form of pact with them, we would be doomed.
“Others among the Fair Folk believed the opposite. They were determined to subjugate the Humans or annihilate them. These fell-minded Faeries we called the Dark Ones. They marshalled their forces and brought ruin upon the Humans, enslaving or destroying all in their path.
“There was a great battle. The very Earth was reshaped beneath the titanic blows that were struck and the powers that were unleashed on that dark day. In the end, we defeated the Dark Ones. We imprisoned their leaders, the ones who refused to accept defeat, with our strongest Wards. Those who repented of their ways were allowed to go free provided they worked to repair the damage they had wrought. The Pact was struck and we Fair Folk faded from memory, remembered only as demons and ogres in children’s stories. We clung on in the cracks of Human society, and that is where we find ourselves today.”
Merddyn stopped speaking, staring out into the dark night where snowflakes had once again begun to fall. He shook himself. “Forgive me. Wool gathering! I am definitely getting old. Now, I’m sure you’re wondering what all this history has to do with you. Well, bear with me. Everything is connected, you see.”
Merddyn gently pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ah,” he said wearily. “We lost so much on that horrible day. So many Ancients went to the Far Lands, or what Humans call heaven. Many others were maimed and chose to pass to the Other Side, cutting themselves off from this world and its woes. Few of us were left, and very few of the truly Ancient Ones like myself survived. Much deep knowledge was lost.”
Merddyn looked up at Brendan and smiled sadly. “How can I begin to describe to you the heartbreak I felt at such waste? You couldn’t grasp it.” He fell silent again.
“What does this have to do with me?” Brendan prompted. “And the tree?”
“Oh.” Merddyn roused himself. “Everything. You see, the Fair Folk who had survived and remained on This Side after the Pact was struck were younger, without the experience of the Ancient Ones. Much lore and wisdom was lost. They scattered far and wide, some passing out of contact with their brethren altogether. I tried to keep us all connected as best I could, but there were few who could help me. Whereas before the Fair Folk had instinctively understood the ebb and flow of the energy that is the lifeblood of the universe, they now comprehended it only in fragments. In the passing centuries, the idea that a Faerie could master only one Talent became the accepted norm.”
“That’s what Greenleaf told me,” Brendan confirmed. “And Ariel, too. Everybody is unusually good at one Talent.”
“But you have more than one. Why?”
“You’re the expert. You tell me!”
“In the Old Times, there were no specialties, no specific Talents or Arts. There were no such distinctions. The universe is full of energy. It’s alive with it. We could tap into it readily and manipulate it to do anything we wished. Let me explain.” Merddyn waved a hand at Edgar. “A glass of water, if you don’t mind, Edgar!”
Edgar complied, filling a tumbler from the tap. He brought it to the table.
“Many thanks,” Merddyn said. Edgar went back to his paper. Merddyn pushed the glass of water into the centre of the table. “Tell me, Brendan. What do you see?”
Brendan shrugged. “A glass of water.”
Merddyn nodded. “That’s one answer. I think there is a better one.”
Though he was seated across from the legendary Merlin himself, Brendan couldn’t help but feel completely exasperated. “Oh, come on, will ya? Does everything have to be some kind of Zen riddle?”
“I like Zen riddles. ‘Koans’ they’re called, by the way. Buddhism has some wonderful mystical traditions. And Buddha himself was a very sweet fellow. So curious and good-hearted. A wonderful student.”
“You’re telling me you taught Buddha?”
“For a brief time. He had the idea already. I just gave him a nudge in the right direction.”
“Buddha was a… one of us?”
“Oh, no! He was a Human. Like Jesus and Mohammed and Zarathustra. Enlightened Humans who saw that there was a pattern underpinning the world we think we know. But that is beside the point. What we have here is a difference in perception. You see a glass of water. I say that within this glass is all the water in the world.”
Brendan just stared. “I don’t get it.”
“You have to see all the water in the world as one thing, no matter how it’s parcelled up. Those partitions-a glass, a lake, a river, an ocean-are all boundaries we place on a thing so that we can better understand it. What they actually do is make it impossible to understand that thing completely.”
Brendan thought about that. “But I can’t possibly hold the image of all the water in the world in my mind. It’s too huge.”
“Better philosophers than I could and would elaborate on this idea, but for our purposes, it isn’t necessary. I
