Fallen Sky

[Tad_MacLaren]

A steady on-shore breeze carries the scents of salt and fish, and the air is permeated with the sounds of crashing surf and the cries of seabirds. A young boy dressed in rough clothing steps off the ferry-boat, waving merrily to the ferryman. His tousled red hair is windblown, his face smudged with dirt. He stands for a moment on the wet sand, barefoot, closing his eyes. His toes scrunch up in the sand, he breathes in slowly but deeply, and he simply experiences this beach on the shore of Scara Brae. Suddenly he gasps and bursts into a fit of giggling as the cold water rolls in over his feet, tickling them with sea foam.

The contemplative moment gone, Tad looks around the beach more closely. Shorebirds stalk the edges of the surf, hunting their crustacean prey. Dunes of sand overgrown with scraggly grass stand as sentries between the firmer ground inland and the constantly shifting surf. A narrow but well-worn path leads from the ferry landing to a small fishing village in the distance. Unable to resist a few minutes of play, Tad runs along the beach, splashing in the water as the surf as it rolls in and out. He chases the shorebirds up and down the beach, laughing with joy. As pleasant as the beach is, however, the lad does not tarry overly long. He is here for a reason -- to find a piece of the sky.

[Tad_MacLaren]

The narrow path leads between the dunes. Stray sand is scattered across it but the footing is firm, packed by generations of sturdy feet. Tad skips along the path with the boundless energy of youth, singing quietly to himself. The village is nearly devoid of men, as all but the very young or very old are out to sea. Several children can be heard playing and a fishwife hurries past on some errand, paying scant attention to the boy. An old man sits outside a ramshackle old hut, mending a net. He looks up and smiles. "Ho there, lad. Well met. Nigh off the ferry, are ye?"

Tad stops and looked at the old man. He tilts his head to one side for a moment, watching the old man's gnarled fingers deftly retie knots, blending new twine in with the old. Abruptly he grins, deciding that he likes this old man. "Ayup! I likes the ferry, they sings funny songs." Tad sings a bit of of sea chanty and dances a little jig.

The old man smiles indulgently. Ah, the energy of youth.. "Where do ye hail from, little one? " he inquires, scanning the path leading up from the beach, as surely this child has not travelled alone.

"I's from Concordia, in the Underhill!" The youth declares proudly.
"Ah, Underwood?" asks the old man.
"Nope! The Under HILL" Tad reaffirms, rolling his eyes at the man's misunderstanding.

Looking slightly perplexed, the old man shrugs and asks "Where are your parents, lad. Still unloading the ferry?"

Tad shakes his head sadly, "Nuh uh, I hasnae gots no Da', an my mama died when i was wee." His face brightens, "I has lots of friends though! Toby's my friend, he's a turtle. But he lives in the moors, so he didnae come wif me."

Sounding rather worried, the man asks "What brings ye so far from home, lad? By yourself, no less, without even a turtle to keep ye company?" And why on earth would the ferryman bring ye across by yourself? he adds silently to himself.

"I's looking for somefing. But first I's looking for someone. His name's Wulfgar. Frieda tolded me Wulfgar would help me find a piece of the sky." Tad nods firmly, then asks "Does you know a fisherman named Wulfgar?"

[Tad_MacLaren]

The old man’s eyes narrow. “Frieda? Frieda Gardener?” The Spaewife? What sort of child is this? As the child nods his head vigorously, the man stares at him with piercing blue-grey eyes. “What is your name, child? And what dealings have ye with Frieda, that she would send ye across the oceans in search of an old man?”

“I’s Tad. Tad MacLaren. Wha’s your name?” Tad continues without pausing, however, “An Frieda’s my frien’. She’s a witch! I likes witches. But I askeded her where I coulds find a piece of the sky, an she said ‘Seek ye the skystone in Scara Brae’” Tad’s voice takes on an exaggerated spooky quality when he repeats Frieda’s words, then he bursts into a fit of giggling. “She talks funny, but she’s nice. AN’ she makes scones. The bestest scones. Well, maybe tied for the bestest. Glow-Fur makes good ones. I bet he’s a witch too!”

The old man isn’t sure what to make of this lad, though he smiles at Tad’s imitation of Frieda’s voice. “Aye, lad. That she does, that she does… Make good scones, I mean.” He winks at Tad, agreeing inwardly with the boy's assessment of Frieda’s 'funny' speech. “And aye, I know this Wulfgar. I know him very well, in fact.” The old man’s eyes twinkle with amusement “Simply look for an old man, mending a net and talking to a strange child from across the sea -- then ye will have found the man ye seek.”

Tad tilts his head to one side for a moment, then beams brightly at the old man. “YOU’s Wulfgar! Why din’ you say so? You’s gonna help me find a piece of sky, aren’ you?”

“Aye, lad. I’m Wulfgar. And I do believe I just told ye. As for this skystone, first tell me – why are ye seeking it? I know where ye might find such a thing, but the way would be fraught with peril for a wee lad.”

[Tad_MacLaren]

“Oh, tha’s easy.” Tad replies, as he finds a spot on the porch and sits down cross-legged. “Fionnbharr said I should find it.”

Wulfgar’s eyes go wide at the mention of Fionnbharr. Fionnbharr? King of the Daoine Sidhe? The lad consorts with spaewives and the people of the mounds… that’s what he meant by Underhill… He lives among the faerie folk! The old man’s mind churns as the child continues to speak.

“He said firstest I had to find a piece of the sky an melt it wif dragon-fire. I’s sposed to bring tha’ back to him, an he’ll haf Aonghus forge me a magickal dagger! He saided I’s not a wee bairn no more, so I needs somefing better than this.” Tad pulls a small flint dagger from his belt and holds it up for Wulfgar’s inspection. “But he saided if’n I want somefing special, I hadded to gather e’erthing myself.”

Tad’s voice takes on an edge, and faint green fire flickers in his eyes as he continues. “Braedon said I wouldnae be able to do it. He said I’s jus a changeling.” The child’s eyes glisten as tears form. “But I’s not. I’s NOT!”

Wulfgar’s expression softens at the boy’s tears. This lad is no changeling. The blood of the sidhe runs in his veins without a doubt, but I wager his mother was human. He reaches out to comfort the boy, laying a hand on Tad’s shoulder. “Nay, lad. A changeling ye’re not, regardless of what this Braedon might say.” The old man sets his net aside and stands, offering the lad a hand up. “Come inside, lad. I’ll make us some tea. I’ll tell ye a story of long ago when the skies of Scara Brae fell to earth. A tale of the SkyStones.”

[Tad_MacLaren]

The old man steps inside the hut and ushers the boy into a chair. He pokes some life back into the banked fire and hangs a kettle from a hook over the fireplace. Wulfgar putters around the hut, gathering herbs for the tea and a pair of mugs from the cupboard. After dropping herbs into the warming kettle, Wulfgar settles down into a chair and turns to face Tad. "Where to begin, child, where to begin..."

Wulfgar ponders a moment as Tad sits and fidgets, clearly impatient for the story to talk yet with sufficient self control to not interrupt. Wulfgar continues, "When I was a much younger lad, not much older than yourself, I was traipsing through the Brokenthorn." Wulfgar smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle up as Tad tilts his head to one side. "Aye, lad. I was young once too, and I wasn't always a fisherman, either." The old man continues with his story, "I was fearless in those days but I was with my father, Hrothmund. In my young eyes he was capable of anything... felling trees in a single stroke of the axe, scaring off wolves with but a stern look. As I grew up he seemed a bit less heroic in proportion, but ah, through the eyes of youth..."

Tad frowns slightly as Wulfgar grows silent, reminiscing. "I hasnae got no Da'. I wishes I hadded a Da' like yours." His head hanging low, Tad fidgets with his hands as he waits for Wulfgar to finish the tale.

Och, what have I done? The poor child is an orphan, what was I thinking? Unsure how to correct his faux pas, Wulfgar simply continues with his story. "It was dusk, and we were setting camp when there was suddenly a flash of light in the sky, and a ball of fire roared overhead. It crashed in the distance, tearing down trees and shaking the earth. Two more fiery streaks followed in the wake of the first, sending eruptions of earth into the sky when they hit. Aye, it was the most frightening thing I had ever experienced... and still is. The forest was set ablaze, a raging inferno that threatened to engulf our camp. We abandoned all of our gear and ran to the river that flows down to Valeena Lake, Hoping the water would provide some measure of refuge. Animals were fleeing ahead of the blaze, creatures too. Things ye wouldn't believe existed, but they were real enough. Thankfully we were able to escape, but it was a close thing. Our lungs were seared, as was our skin. Aye, to this day even a bit of smoke will set me to wheezing... I rebuilt this chimney three times before I was satisfied with the draft."

Talking of smoke and chimneys reminds Wulfgar of the tea steeping by the fire, so he pauses to pour the tea. He offers a steaming mug to Tad before taking his seat, "Here, lad, have a sip of this. A bit of warm tea in the stomach works wonders. Mind ye don't burn your tongue, though, it's quite hot."

[Tad_MacLaren]

Tad accepts the mug and blows lightly across the surface. He takes a sip, but immediately jerks his head back, nearly spilling the scalding contents of the mug into his lap. "Tha's HOT!" he exclaims.

"Aye, straight from the fire. Let it cool a few minutes, then it won't burn ye."

Tad nods and sets his mug aside. "So the sky falled into the forest?! Sounds like it were scary... fire an' monsters an' e'erthing!" His eyes gleam with excitement, a very faint green fire visible within their depths. "You SAW the skystones! Where did they fall? Where are they now? How cans we find them?"

Wulfgar chuckles at Tad's excitement, "Aye, they fell into the Brokenthorn. I saw them with my very eyes. Do you know the river that flows down to Valeena Lake? When I was a lad it's source was a spring deep in the forest. The falling stones hit near there, cratering the ground. The spring filled those craters, and now you'll find a small lake deep within the Brokenthorn. I wager those stones are still there, resting on the bottom of that lake."