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There once was a girl, a seemingly ordinary little girl, who lived on the outskirts of a bustling village with her beloved father. Each day she rose before the sun and spent a single hour reading one of the precious books she pilfered from her father's library. After which, she set about her daily chores with singular focus. She would cook and clean and wash and mend and take care of whatever else needed doing that day.
At midday, after her father finished his meal and returned to work, she would partake in her daily ritual of watching the crows inexplicably guard their cottage. And guard it they did. Anytime another living soul, be they friend or foe, approached her family's sanctuary the crows would chase them away. She had always wondered about this strange behavior, but the one time she had asked, her father became silent as the grave and shut himself away in his workshop for nearly a sennight. After his self-imposed exile had come to an end, he gifted her with an intricate iron bracelet but otherwise acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Not willing to risk a repeat performance, she had decided to let the matter rest. Still, she wondered.
The sun crested over the horizon as her father readied their beautiful black palfrey. He was preparing to leave on his annual journey to go and see his sister. She had never met her aunt, but ever since her ninth summer her father would spend one full turn of the moon visiting his elder sister. She didn't know why she couldn't accompany her father, but he had told her that it was just how it had to be.
"Now, poppet, while I'm away I want you to remain inside the cottage at all times. Will you do that for me?"
She looked down at the gently swaying grass and gave a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, Papa. I shan't come outside for any reason."
He tilted her chin up and gave her a long, searching look. "All right, dear heart. Now, before I leave, I have something for you." With a flourish, he presented her with a penannular brooch.
It was a simple design with delicate veins of silver running through the wrought iron to form three separate triskeles dotted with blood-red rubies, blue calcite, and greyish-white tinaksite crystals. "Oh, Papa, it's lovely. I shall wear it always."
"See that you do." He gave her a tight hug and tenderly kissed her forehead. "Go on inside."
She slowly walked towards the cottage before quickly turning back. "Give Auntie Ana my love."
He gave an indulgent smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I will." His smile quickly faded as he watched her go inside and shut the door.
The young girl gazed out the window as her father expertly mounted the young mare. "I'll miss you, Papa," she whispered softly as she brushed a tear out of her eye.
A furious squawking roused her from a restless sleep. She stumbled her way to the window to see why her guardian crows were all riled up. The silver moonlight pierced through the shifting shadows and allowed her to spot a pure white fawn struggling to stand.
The crows circled and intermittently dove at the terrified creature. Her heart went out to the poor thing. She had to help it. She forwent dressing and rushed outside.
She took slow, deliberate steps across the soft, dewy grass as she cautiously approached the fawn. The crows anxiously fluttered overhead as she murmured a stream of nonsensical words and slowly knelt before the frightened animal. She stared into soulful brown eyes as she eased her hand in minuscule increments, ever so slowly, towards the fawn until she was able to rub the side of its face. Her soft voice and gentle touch soothed the quivering deer. Slowly but surely, it was able to stand. She petted down its side until she hit a wet spot. The fawn stiffened and gave her a severely betrayed look before it bolted away.
The chattering crows herded her back to the cottage as she stared forlornly at the eerie black sheen on her bloody fingers. "No! Stop! She's hurt. She needs my help." She pushed her way through the frustrated flock and chased after the fleeing deer.
The dense foliage of the slender rowan and sturdy oak trees was penetrated by the silvery glow of the moon highlighting the deep hoof prints her quarry left in the loose soil. She followed the tracks for what felt like ages until a hazy mist shrouded the forest floor. The mist rose rapidly and quickly enveloped her in an opaque blanket of fog. Her attention now diverted, she was alerted to the stillness of her surroundings. She turned in a circle and heard nothing but the pounding of her own heart. With the deafening silence and her impaired vision, she didn't know which way to go.
Suddenly, a cacophony of caws sounded in the distance. She tried to pinpoint where the cries were coming from, but they started echoing all around her. She turned every which way, but it was no use. A shrill, piercing cry cut through the fading caws, and then everything was quiet once again.
In the ensuing silence, she chose a direction and started taking small, shuffling steps. After an indefinable amount of time, golden rays of light dissipated the dense fog, and she heard rushing water. She quickened her pace.
She burst into a small clearing next to a babbling brook. A gorgeous chestnut mare drank from the sparkling water, and a plethora of kaleidoscopic fish danced through its sun-kissed ripples.
She was overcome with a sense of absolute serenity as the golden sun warmed her inside and out.
"Greetings, child. Whyever are you in such a hurry? Is it not a most beautiful day? Should you not bask in all of nature's glorious gifts?"
She turned towards the melodious voice. And froze. Before her stood what must surely be an angel. Draped in innumerable layers of the finest gossamer, her eyes shone with an unfathomable intelligence, and her skin emitted a shimmering golden glow.
For several moments, she continued to silently stare at the hauntingly beautiful woman until she finally blurted out, "Are you an angel?"
"Goodness me!" She gave a tinkling laugh. "No, I am not one of your angels."
"If you're not an angel, then what—" Her face clouded over. The fawn! How could she have forgotten?
"What troubles you, child?"
"I'm looking for a deer. She's hurt, and I need to help her. She's only a baby. Did you see a fawn pass through here?"
"You are the only fawn here." She paused. "Are you certain you are following the correct path?"
"I must have gotten turned around in the fog. I'm sorry. I have to go." She turned to leave.
"Fare thee well, Morgan."
As the words registered, she turned back. "I never told you my... name." She was talking to empty air. The ethereal woman had vanished.
Without warning, a loud clap of thunder roared through the heavens, and Morgan startled awake.
Her father kept looking at her oddly.
She knew she was distracted. She found herself staring into space more and more. Not even the crows' antics could hold her attention.
Morgan was restless. She was no longer a child, but a woman fully grown, and she'd never been more than a stone's throw from her home. She wanted to experience all that the wider world had to offer. And soon, she would. Her father wasn't happy with her decision to leave, but there was nothing he could do to stop her. He did try, but she was deaf to his protestations.
It was the night before Morgan was set to leave, and she had just finished a nigh unbearable, silent dinner with her father.
"Papa, please, can you not see how unreasonable you're being? Did you truly believe I would be happy to spend my entire life locked away like some princess in a faerie story?"
He sighed at her last question. "I had hoped you would be content with our simple life together. Alas, I was a fool to think this day would never come." He looked her in the eye. "I don't want to lose you."
"Oh, Papa, I'm not leaving forever. I'll be back before—"
"I know you believe that, dear heart, but there are things you are unaware of. Things I've kept from you."
"What do you mean?" She gave an irritated sigh. "What aren't you telling me?"
He stared down at his fidgeting hands. "I can't say."
She slammed a hand on the table. "Can't or won't?"
He was startled by her outburst and jumped in his seat. "I made a promise..." He took a slow, deep breath. "More of a vow actually. A geas."
She frowned at him. "Papa?"
"There are... forces... forces outside the purview of man... Your mother..." He gasped for air.
"Papa!" She hurried to his side. "Papa, are you all right?"
He waved away her concern. "You have a connection to something... something primordial." His breathing leveled out. "I cannot say any more."
"Papa? You're acting like you believe in the tales of olde." She narrowed her eyes at him. "If this is a ruse to get me to stay here with you, it shan't work."
"No, no. I do want you to stay—I am a selfish man—but I shouldn't... I won't stop you from doing what you must. Just promise me that you will be careful, and that you won't forget this foolish old man."
"Oh, Papa." She blinked back tears and fiercely hugged him. "I could never forget you."
The morning dawned bright and clear as Morgan saddled her new black steed. She took it as a good sign for her forthcoming adventure. Her father came over as she was checking to make sure that she had all of the necessities in her saddlebags.
"Are you certain I cannot persuade you to stay?"
"Papa," she said with exasperation, "not this again."
He blew out a deep breath. "You're right. Do forgive me. Now, before you go, I have a present for you."
She turned and saw that he held a bracelet similar in design to the one that he had given to her when she was but a child. "It's beautiful." She scrutinized his face. "Papa, do you truly believe in the Fair Folk?"
He shrugged. "Who am I to say?"
"Papa!"
He paused in thought. "There are a great many inexplicable things in this world. Is it not within the realm of possibility that such beings exist?"
"I've never seen proof of any such thing."
"Do you truly believe that?"
She thought about the crows and their puzzling behavior. But was it truly strange? Predators were territorial after all. Mayhap they were only protecting their home from those they saw as a threat. A half-remembered dream fluttered through her mind, but it faded away before she could fully grasp onto it.
"I don't know, Papa. Regardless of the possibility, I shan't allow it to interfere with my journey."
He sighed. "All right. Do you still have your brooch?"
She patted her chest. "Always. Now, I really must be going." She gave him a fierce hug and kissed his cheek in farewell. "I shall miss you dearly, Papa."
"And I you, dear heart."
As she galloped away, she realized that for the first time, it was she that was leaving instead of her father, but it didn't pain her any less.
She hadn't made it very far when she discovered that the crows were following her.
Morgan spent many moons travelling from place to place. She explored many grand natural landscapes and spent many a night sleeping under the stars. However, she did not get to experience the different cultures spread throughout the land. The crows rarely allowed her to have more than a quick meal before they would cause some kind of a ruckus necessitating a hasty exit from whichever village she so happened to be in. They were especially petulant if any of the villagers showed too much of an active interest in her. And every so often, they forced her to bypass a village in its entirety.
Morgan was bedded down for the night when she heard the mournful howl of a lone wolf. She quickly stood to check on the horse and soothe him if need be, but he was docile as a lamb. She looked to the crows and observed their peaceful slumber. Did she not hear what she thought she had? She listened intently as she quickly and quietly searched the surrounding area. She didn't find any danger, nor did she feel threatened, so she lay down once again.
Her eyes had barely closed when she felt it. She was being watched. She waited for the panic to set in, yet it never came. She sat up, calm as could be, and looked around.
A pair of glowing eyes met her searching gaze. Still, she did not panic. She blinked, and from one moment to the next, a grey she-wolf appeared before her and gently nudged her shoulder.
The wolf stared her in the eye and then turned to walk away. After a few steps, the wolf looked over its shoulder and huffed in irritation at her still-sitting form. The wolf barked at her and tilted its head as if to ask, "Are you coming?"
The moon hid its face as Morgan followed the wolf down a twisting path. She was led further and further into the dark forest until they came upon a glade surrounded by a multitude of birch trees. A sudden chill filled the air, and her legs collapsed beneath her as she was overcome with a feeling of complete and total despair.
Morgan's eyes fluttered open as she felt a cold, wet nose nuzzle her cheek. She found her bearings and slowly climbed to her feet. She looked around and couldn't believe what she saw. Hundreds, nay thousands, of cages flickered in and out of existence. They held all manner of creatures—human, animal, magical, and mystical—in varying states of distress. Tears trailed down her face as she tried to understand what was happening. Suddenly, only one of the cages remained. As it fully solidified, she let out a loud gasp. She was staring at herself.
The cage faded away and in its place stood a strangely familiar woman of indeterminate age and regal bearing. "I apologize for causing you to experience that without warning or preparation, but time is of the essence, and it was necessary for you to fully grasp the importance of who you are."
"Who I am? I don't understand. What—"
"I know you have many questions, but time is short." A tree stump sprouted up from the ground with a wave of the woman's hand. "Please, sit, and I shall explain." Morgan sat.
"You are descended from an ancient line of protectors dating back to time immemorial. Guardians, as we are called, are tasked with maintaining the balance throughout all of the different realms found within all of the myriad worlds. These last many years our sworn enemies have orchestrated the fall of countless realms causing untold worlds to descend into chaos. Furthermore, many Guardians have been unmade. We are a dying breed. You must choose to embrace what you are, or you too shall be lost to us."
Morgan suppressed a shiver. "I'll die?"
"Yes. However, it is not in the way you think. You will be fully mortal if you do not accept the path of a Guardian. And, as all mortals must, you too shall one day die."
"Must I choose now?"
"No. That day is not yet here. When it is upon you, you shall know." She glanced to the heavens. "Our time is not yet ended. You may ask some more of your questions."
Morgan quickly decided what she most wanted to know. "What were those cages? How could I be in one when I'm right here?"
"It will take too long to fully explain. If you do accept your destiny, you shall learn all about it. But for now, let's say that it is what was, what is, and what could be." She paused momentarily. "Some of those beings are quite literally trapped. Others are caught between choices. Your caged double, for example, is the part of you that you must let go of to fully embrace what you are meant to be."
Morgan wasn't sure that she quite understood this explanation and was going to ask for further clarification, but then she decided to ask about the one thing that she had wondered about for most of her life. "Do you know why my crows act the way they do?"
The woman smiled at this. "Your crows, as you call them, are some of my children who still remain free and uncorrupted. They were sent to watch over you and keep you safe from any undue influence."
Deciding to accept her response for now, Morgan took a slow, fortifying breath. "My father, he—"
The woman forestalled Morgan's question as she started to flicker. "Alas, I must leave you now. I hope to see you soon, daughter."
Morgan slowly blinked awake.
Morgan watched the crows flit about as the sun's slow descent painted the sky with vibrant hues of purple, red, and orange. Her peaceful tranquility was suddenly shattered when she was bombarded by a slew of discordant whispers and inundated with a stream of jumbled images and forgotten memories. The buzzing in her head slowly resolved itself into one simple question. "Will you follow the path?"
There was only one answer she could give. "Yes. I shall."