eternity_by_puimun 1THE LADY AND THE MOON

by Matt Dovey

 

Ella raced up the forest path and dropped her armful of branches and twigs in the firepit. Granddad was still a ways down the hill, his creaky legs making him slow, so Ella lay down at the cliff’s edge, where the long grass tickled her chin. The salty summer wind blew her hair into twists like rope as she looked out over the sea. Small white clouds floated beneath her, skimming over the surface of the water, their tops picked out in copper by the setting sun.

A huffing and a puffing behind her meant Granddad Judd had made it to the clifftop, so she sat up and turned to face him. He eased himself onto a weathered log by the firepit. A large conch shell on a length of twine swung loose from his baggy shirt as he leaned forward and took a bottle of seaweed wine out of his bag.

“Ella,” he said, bottle shaking in his hands, “how old are you now, girl?”

“Nearly eight,” said Ella, standing tall to look as grown up as she could.

“Nearly eight,” he chuckled. “Back in my day, we just called that ‘seven’.” He took a gulp of the wine, then put the bottle back into the bag and pulled out a tinder box. He knelt down and tried to strike a spark in the kindling. His fingers fumbled the steel half a dozen times afore he gave in. “Ella, girl, light the fire for an old man.”

Ella rolled her eyes and took the flint and steel. She lit the fire in two clean strikes.

“Thank you, girl. Now, do you know why you’re up here tonight?”

“‘Cos mother told me I had to come.”

Granddad’s eyes wrinkled up as he smiled. “I’m sure she did. And why did she tell you to come?”

“‘ ‘Cos I said I wanted to be a fisherfolk, like Henry? Henry always said you knew lots about fishing ‘cos of how you’d done it so long.”

“Leastways your brother learned some manners from his mother. Do you truly want to go out onto the sea?”

“Yes, Granddad. All the boys say it ain’t for girls but I don’t see how that matters none to the sea.”

“I don’t reckon it does neither. I reckon all that matters is you know how to respect her.”

“How’d you mean, Granddad?”

Granddad Judd got a funny look in his eyes, like he did when he told his old stories. When he spoke again his voice had gone kind of odd, as if he were reciting something important, and it rumbled like the waves.
“Ella… do you see the sea?”

“Yes, Granddad.”

“Do you love the sea?”

“Yes, Granddad.”

“Do you know why you must love the sea?”

“No, Granddad.”

“Then let me tell you of the Lady.”

 

“She used to live in the sky with the Moon, a brilliant white glow trailing her as she danced around him. The Moon himself was smooth and flawless in those days. Anything done while they watched was blessed, and many a child was made and born beneath them. The stars themselves were born to the Lady and the Moon.

“All the world knew her, and all the world loved her, and she bore a hundred different names: Mother of Stars, Love of Moon, Ember of Life, She Who Births Light, She Who Gifts Goodness, She Who Sees All and Ever; Singer, Giver, Lover, Bringer, Mother, Wife. For thousands of years the Lady and the Moon watched us down here, all the hope and tragedy and joy and grief of the world, but we were only a curiosity to them, nothing compared to their true love for one another.

“But one man looked up and saw not love or grace, but opportunity. Opportunity for himself, with no thought as to the cost.

“We don’t speak his name where the sea might hear us. He was a sorcerer of an old lost empire, with the power to  turn the weather as suited him. But the problem with power, girl, is there’s no satisfying that particular thirst, and no matter how much he had, he never had enough. And so he thought himself a plan whereby he could make himself king of all kings, lord of all the world.

“He whispered to his Emperor of a secret quest for power, and the Emperor  —  being as much a fool as the sorcerer, and thinking the power was meant for him — granted him a great ship crewed by mutes, a crew that could tell no tales. The sorcerer sailed out to where no birds glide for fear of the distance, and used the Moon himself to guide the way. In those days, you see, the Moon sat in one place in the sky, and sailors everywhere would navigate by him. And so the Moon betrayed his love, though he didn’t mean to and couldn’t have helped it, but he felt guilty for it ever after.

“As the ship came to rest just beneath the Moon, the crew was sent all below, and the sorcerer stood alone on the forecastle with a cloth across his eyes. He spread his arms wide”– Granddad spread his own arms — “and sent great threads of thought out into the sea. With a mighty effort he pushed his will out down those threads and calmed the sea all round, turning its surface flat as a mirror for an enormous distance. Then he tilted his head back and began singing, a high, wailing note that he sent up through the sky to catch the ear of the Lady.

“Now, nothing had ever called to her like this before, and she was curious. When she looked down to the world to see what was calling, she saw her love the Moon reflected perfectly on that still ocean, with his bright light hiding the ship. Astonished and delighted, she dove down, wanting to dance in this new night sky.

“The sorcerer prepared himself, eyes shielded from her beauty by his blindfold, and waited for his moment. As soon as the Lady pierced the surface of the water he snapped tight his threads” –Grandad clapped his hands and Ella jumped — “and he tied them about the Lady, binding her to the sea.

“It had been in his mind that he should tame the Lady and use her glamour to bring kings to their knees, bowing before her. But he had not reckoned on her temper. As soon as those threads wound around her she knew what had happened, and she raged. Oh, how she raged! She struggled to break free, but in vain. As she twisted and writhed so too did the sea twist and writhe, and the sorcerer’s ship was smashed and upturned and lost to the depths. And so the Lady undid herself, for in drowning the sorcerer she drowned all hope of escaping her bonds, and doomed herself to be tied to the sea forever, parted from her love.

“There were storms that night the likes of which have never been seen since. Grief tore at the Lady and the seas tore at the coasts, wrecking boats and villages and families alike. Whole towns fled inland to escape her anger, leaving behind their homes and livings so they might survive the night.”

Granddad fell silent, and Ella guessed he was thinking of Grandma, who’d died in a storm before Ella was born. Now Granddad wasn’t talking, Ella noticed how hard the ground was where she’d shuffled closer, and she shifted her legs to get comfortable again. Granddad noticed her and blinked back his tears, smiled a sad sort of smile, and continued in a cracked voice.

“The Moon still sat high in the night, and had seen all this unfold. He began to weep, and his tears fell across the sky, great streaks of fire they were. Ever after his face was scarred, as you see it now.  Seeing his upset, the Lady calmed herself, guilty at the loss she herself had caused. Her own tears filled the sea with salt and regret.

“The Moon travels endlessly above the world now, searching in vain and unable to see through the waters that tie the Lady down. And as he moves across the sky, so she yearns to be with him, the oceans swelling and shifting so they can be closer. That’s how the tides begun and how they were named: yearning tide and weeping tide, lovers’ tide and mourners’ tide.

“When you ride on the ocean, girl, you ride on the Lady, and to love the sea is to love her. She’ll always repay that love if you keep it true. As you head out into deep waters you’ll see the great whales of the oceans, and hear how they call to the Moon with the song of love that she taught them. As you watch on a calm night you’ll see the Moon reflect perfectly as she tries to gather him close to her. You’ll stand on sandy beaches and watch turtles come up to lay their eggs where the Moon will watch over them. And when storm clouds cover the night sky and hide the Moon you’ll learn to batten down the hatches and huddle beneath decks, because the Lady will cry when his face is hidden from her, and she’ll forget you ride upon her. But when the storm has passed she’ll repay your courage with gifts, and never is the fishing so sweet as when the Lady feels she owes you.

“This is how it is, girl, the truth of it and the heart of it, and I’d have you learn it well. You must love the Lady, for when you’re out there she’s all that’s looking after you, and all that’ll bring you home safe. You’ll love others, aye, in time, but you’ll love her first and above all, and when your time comes you’ll not be set in the ground like most folk but set free to swim with her forever in the moonlight, held deep in her bosom and swayed into the everafter with her song in your heart. This is our life, girl, our way, and it is hard, but by the Lady and the Moon, it is ours.”

 

Ella sat in silence. The red of sunset had given way to the deep blue of night, though the breeze was still warm and heavy with salt. The Moon hung low on the horizon.

“You still want to be a fisherfolk then, girl?”

“Yes, Granddad.”

Granddad Judd nodded in satisfaction. He started to root around in his bag, and when he didn’t immediately produce anything, Ella reached in and took the bottle of wine by its neck and gently proffered it up for him.

“No girl, not that. This.” Granddad pulled out a conch shell like the one round his own neck. A piece of twine was threaded through a hole by the opening. He tied it round the back of Ella’s neck and let the shell rest against her chest.

“It’s a bit big isn’t it, Granddad?” she asked, holding it up in front of her face.

“You’ll grow into it, girl. You’ll need it for a lot of years yet.”

“What’s it for?”

Granddad grasped his own shell in thick fingers and held it against his ear, motioning for Ella to copy him. She did as he showed, and her eyes widened when she heard the soft whooshing sound inside.
“This is a piece of the sea, girl. The Lady loves every part of her domain, and she won’t ever let go of any of it. That’s her you’re hearing right now. So you wear that shell, and the Lady knows you’re hers.”
Ella nodded solemnly, shell still clutched tight to her head.

Granddad pushed himself up from the log, in that stiff way he always moved when he’d been sitting too long. “Come on girl, give me a hand. I want to sit and watch the sea a while.”

Ella jumped up and took hold of his arm, steadying him as he took a shaky step towards the cliff’s edge. They sat themselves down on the grass with legs dangling against the rock face and backs warmed by the fire. Together they watched the Lady churn beneath the light of the Moon, the smell of her salty tears in the air, and the yearning tide rising up the beach beneath them.


 

The Lady and the Moon © Matt Dovey

Matt Dovey is very tall and very English and most likely has a cup of tea in his hand right now. He has a scar on his arm where the giant squid caught him with its beak as it finally won free and slipped back into the terrible depths. He now lives in a quiet market town in rural England with his wife & three children; despite being a writer, he still hasn’t found the right words to properly express the delight and joy he finds in this wonderful arrangement.

He grew up by the sea. He believes you cannot know magic until you have stood alone on a beach beneath the swollen summer moon, warmed by salt winds. He speaks from experience. Of all the wines he has homebrewed, he has never made seaweed wine, but reckons he could come up with a recipe.

More waffle and nonsense can be found at mattdovey.com. You can follow along at facebook.com/mattdoveywriter or on Twitter @mattdoveywriter.

 

Illustration: “Eternity” © Stephanie Piuman Law
Stephanie Pui-Mun Law has been painting fantastic otherworlds from early childhood, though her art career did not begin until 1998 when she graduated from a program of Computer Science. After three years of programming for a software company by day and rushing home to paint into the midnight hours, she left the world of typed logic and numbers, for painted worlds of dreams and the fae.

Her illustrations have been for various game and publishing clients, including Wizards of the Coast, HarperCollins, LUNA Books, Tachyon Books, Alderac Entertainment, and Green Ronin. She has authored and illustrated Dreamscapes (2008, North Light Books), Dreamscapes: Myth & Magic (2010, North Light Books), and Dreamscapes: Magical Menagerie (2012, North Light Books), a series on watercolor technique for fantasy. She is the author and illustrator of best-selling tarot deck, the Shadowscapes Tarot (2009, Llewellyn Worldwide). Her work also regularly appears in Realms of Fantasy Magazine.

In addition to commissioned projects, she has spent a great deal of time working up a personal body of work whose inspiration stems from mythology, legend, and folklore. Collections of this art are published by Shadowscapes Press. She has also been greatly influenced by the art of the Impressionists, Pre-Raphaelites, Surrealists, and the master hand of Nature. Swirling echoes of sinuous oak branches, watermarked leaf stains, the endless palette of the skies are her signature. Her background of over a decade as a flamenco dancer is also evident in the movement and composition of her paintings. Every aspect of her paintings moves in a choreographed flow, and the dancers are not only those with human limbs. What Stephanie tries to convey with her art is not simply fantasy, but the fantastic, the sense of wonder, that which is sacred.

While most of Stephanie’s work is done with watercolors, she experiments with pen & ink, intaglio printing, acrylic, and digital painting as well.
www.shadowscapes.com

 

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