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The buckthorn berries quest Tale
My name is Pangur Potya Bán and, as I’m sure you might have noticed, I am indeed an exceptionally handsome cat.
I have lived many, many interesting lives, yet the most extraordinary of them all undoubtedly is the one where I came to befriend a young monk and his rather unconventional companion, the very last of the Tuatha Dé Danann* clan.
In those times I was traveling with the legendary manuscript illuminator Brother Nicolai Aidan through his endless pilgrimages. We had been wandering together ever since our beloved and once prosperous home, the fair Island of Iona, had succumbed under a storm of enemy swords, fury and fire that no one of us, feline or human, could have ever predicted. And indeed too few souls had lived to tell.
The horrors my venerable human and I had to witness as we fled through the thick smoke and the cries for mercy of that fateful night, I’d rather never recount. And this is quite possibly the reason why I evaded the courteous company and the inevitable questions of those who had offered us temporary shelter, here, at the old Abbey of Kells. I much preferred to spend my days keeping an eye on the still very young novice Otabek Brendan, especially when he contravenes Abbot Yakov Cellach’s strict rule and secretly sneaked away into the forest, where it was the trees, the rocks and the elusive creatures those who imparted all the invaluable lessons a book would never be able to teach.
It was precisely during one of these formative expeditions (often inspired if not consistently commissioned by Brother Nicolai Aidan’s somewhat unorthodox tutelage) that young Otabek Brendan’s life almost came to a rather tragic end. The boy had ventured into the darkest and unfamiliar passages of the forest looking for the buckthorn berries Brother Nicolai Aidan needed for the illuminated code he had been painstakingly working on for the greatest part of his long life, the legendary Book of Iona, and, upon finding himself right in the middle of some ancient and undeniably gloomy circle of stones, in the end Otabek Brendan had to admit it: we were completely lost. I was busy rolling my eyes at just how all too predictable the whole situation was getting, when I sensed something I for once had not predicted at all. Prompted by instinct rather than reason, the fur on my tail puffed up in sheer terror way before I could even fathom why.
Until I smelled them. For they were very close. And very hungry.
And before I could finish to hiss a rather incoherent string of curses under my breath, the first pair of yellow eyes emerged from the mist that now engulfed the stones circle, quickly followed by more sets of glowing eyes, low menacing growling and way too many bared jaws.
Wolves.
I hate wolves.
Why had it to be wolves!
Serves me right for tagging along some young inexperienced human child right deep into this bloody forest, I reproached myself while frantically sinking my little fangs into Otabek Brendan’s cape hem trying my very best to pull him away from the approaching danger, as he bravely but rather hopelessly waved a twig at it. In the end, all noble intents aside, it just took a couple of sharp wolf mandibles snapping way too close to my derriere what persuaded me to accept the time had come to desert the ranks and flee into the mist as far away as possible. As I ran for my precious life, I suddenly overheard the boy gasping and, as I turned back to look over my shoulder, I saw that the pack of wolves had grown silent and absolutely still until, as if prompted by a signal, it suddenly dispersed like a bad dream.
Gone.
All of them but one.
The extraordinary white wolf advanced menacingly towards a petrified Otabek Brendan and my heart sank. I just could not bear to leave the poor boy to his dreadful fate and, just as I set to run back to be at his side and very likely accompany him all the way into martyrdom, a pair of delicate but extremely persuasive hands quite abruptly cut short all my military maneuvers.
-Is this your cat?-
And there I was, dangling unceremoniously like a wet sack of stupid potatoes in the grip of this strange creature that smelled of wind, freshly crushed leaves and tree sap. And only very faintly, yet quite unmistakably still, of wolf fur.
-Well?!- The fair-haired half-wolf half-boy creature pressed on.
-I’ve heard about…- Otabek Brendan cautiously replied still brandishing the half chewed twig. –I’ve heard about creatures like you… you are a… a fairy!-
The creature and I exchanged an unimpressed look before he kneeled down into the softness of the tall grass to gently let go of me.
-What are you doing in my forest? You’ve come to spoil it, haven’t you! You were probably sent by your family to get food, weren’t you- The creature pierced the human boy with vibrant green eyes while pushing the tip of his index against Otabek Brendan’s chest. –Well, you can go right back where you came from. Because if you don't, I’ll make the wolves get you- the creature paused before unleashing a slow, sinister grin. –And I can assure you that I’m going to enjoy the show-
Had he been any other human (or even cat for that matter!), at this point Otabek Brendan should have been sufficiently scared, if not reasonably intimidated at the very least. But, as you have might already suspected, the young novice was no ordinary mortal and, just to make things even more complex, there was something in the forest boy that somehow fascinated him way beyond all caution.
-I’m not here to get food for my family, nor to spoil the forest…- he eventually sought out to reason with the magic creature. –I’m here to…-
-Hey, are you deaf or what?! This is my forest, I said!-
-I’m sorry… your forest…- Otabek Brendan took a step back as soon as the pale blond creature growled at him. –I’m here to get things to make ink for my teacher. Also… I don't have a family and we have food in Kells, I’m not here to steal… I was just… a bit lost. Actually, very lost to be honest…-
The hostility upon the green-eyed creature’s delicate features faded away to merge into something very close to surprise.
–You don't have a family?-
-No-
-No mother?-
Otabek Brendan quietly adverted his gaze trying very hard to remember the warmth of his mother’s embrace. He couldn't. He was too small when the Vikings had taken her away from him.
The creature’s eyes filled with silent recognition and a vulnerability he did nothing to hide.
-I’m alone too…- he murmured and for a moment he seemed to become one with the vanishing mist.
-Wait!- Fearing he had already lost him, the novice called after the creature. –If this is your forest, you must know everything about it!-
-Quiet, human boy. You’re way too loud- The voice of the forest spirit had poured from somewhere much farther now. –Get out of here. You’ve been warned-
-No, wait please!- Otabek Brendan reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a handful of buckthorn berries. –Do you know where I can find these?-
Without a sound, the wild forest boy suddenly materialized right next to where I was sitting and in doing so nearly scared one of my remaining lives out of me.
-You can’t eat those, you idiot-
-I don't want to eat them. They are for making ink-
-What is ink?- asked the creature as he scratched his ear.
-It’s… for the book. For making pictures… liquid colour, you put it on pages and… it’s hard to explain. I suppose you should see it to understand and…-
-I don't know what you’re blabbering about and guess what, I don't want to know. So you’d better shut your mouth this very minute-
-But…-
The creature started to pace around the spot where Otabek Brendan and I stood. His feet made no sound on the grass but I swear I could distinguish the heavy curses he spat out all too well.
-Listen to me, human boy. I will help you find those berries you so desperately want-
-You… You will??-
-On one condition. You and your cat must promise to never come into my forest ever again. Do we have a deal?-
Otabek Brendan’s little tentative smile died away. He then sighed and lowered his head with a somber nod.
-Very well- The creature gently poked the mist with a finger and described a slow circle with both his bare arms until the vaporous veil hanging between stones vanished away to reveal a beautiful blue sky shining over the greenest meadow I’d ever seen. –Come, I’ll ask the forest where your berries are-
Young Otabek Brendan followed the forest boy through the thick moist grass, up tree trunks embraced by the softest moss, all the way to the top of an old sleeping oak. As soon as he looked down though, the boy’s laughter died away to be replaced by the ice-cold shards of absolute fear. Otabek Brendan almost lost his balance and if it hadn’t been for the forest boy promptly securing his back up against the robust branch behind him, Abbot Yakov Cellach would have lost his only nephew to an oak tree that day.
-Come on- the creature laughed and pressed both hands across the novice’s heaving chest. –Open your eyes… and I’ll tell you my name-
Still struggling to catch his breath, Otabek Brendan slowly let his eyes open and fill with the dreamy vision of the beautiful forest boy smiling at him.
-My name is Yuri-
-Yuri…- the young boy smiled back and somehow was no longer afraid of anything. Anything at all.
And so it was that the young novice, the forest creature and I came to become allies and thus set off on a quest that had started as some harmless berry hunting adventure, but all too soon revealed itself for what it truly was: a war between Light and Eternal Darkness.
~*~
Notes:
*Tuatha Dé Danann: a supernatural race in Irish mythology.They are thought to represent the main deities of pre-Christian Gaelic Ireland. The Tuath Dé eventually became the Aos Sí or "fairies" of later folklore.