Nokken Chapter Two
When I regain consciousness something wet and scratchy slides over my face.
Stupid cat, I think. I open my eyes to an adorable, furry, calico face with it’s tongue still out to lick me again and I sigh.
“Tigerlily…” I moan groggily. I push her off and cover my head with my blankets. I’m about to go back to sleep when I suddenly remember last night. I look at the clock; it’s 7:00am. I throw my laptop open. Still no internet. So I jump off my bed and onto the floor then turn around and grab Tigerlily off the bed and set her down. I throw on my glasses, a hoodie, a bra, and cargo pants, all of which are black. I don’t even bother about a shirt. Then I run downstairs and burst into the kitchen. I grab a piece of paper from the computer desk and scribble a note for mom on it:
Mom,
Went to meet Ivy @ library. Sry about last night. I hope I didn’t lose ur trust. Call Ivy’s cell if you want confirmation.
-Willow
I hope the note’s cuteness factor will work enough that mom won’t call Ivy or get mad, and I sure hope Ivy won’t mind covering for me again if mom does call. I rummage in the unpacked boxes littering the kitchen for tape. When I find some I tape the note to the inside of the front door. Then I grab a spoon from the drawer, shove it in my pocket and run down the sidewalk, past the library, into the woods, and straight to the lake. When I finally stop I’m hunched, breathless, at the end of the dock.
When I can breathe again, I call, “Hello?!”
I’m glad nobody else is here, because I look like a total lunatic. Ten minutes go by and nothing happens. Then I hear something on the dock behind me and turn. I’m stunned by what I see.
Standing on the dock in front of me is a huge white stallion. It’s muscles flex forcefully beneath it’s silvery hide; standing at attention. It’s clearly wild, with cattails and river grass threaded gracefully through it’s mane as if skillfully placed there by a crafty nymph. It’s flowing mane glistens in the sunlight. It looks like rippling water. It looks at me with it’s head cocked in curiosity, but it’s eyes wild with caution. I slowly drop to my knees, shrinking down to weakness to show it that I’m not the one to be feared. Instead of doing nothing, like I expected, it does the same. It folds it’s forelegs underneath itself and bends it’s back legs down. I can’t resist; I slowly edge forward toward the majestic animal. When I’m a few feet away it starts to shake with nervous anticipation.
“Hey,” I croon to it, “It’s okay, baby. Willow just wants to touch you, that’s all.”
The stallion whinnies beautifully in response to my soothing words. I slowly reach out my hand to touch it, but stop hesitantly a few inches from it’s face. It shies away a few inches, but then it’s forehead drifts up to meet my hand. His soft, silky fur amazes me. I’ve pet horses before, ridden them even, but none of them felt this way. I stroke from his muzzle to his forehead over and over. Soon, he has relaxed completely and is laying on the dock next to me. I’m so amazed by the beautifully surprising animal I’ve met that I pet him for about half an hour before it dawns on me that I’m petting a beautiful white stallion in the middle of a forest where horses are not native.
“Are you...” I start, but remember that it’s a horse I’m talking to. I just don’t understand, though, why I stallion would come up to me in the middle of the forest and not be afraid of me. Yet there is something in the stallion’s eyes that portrays distrust and caution, but if it was extreme, he would be letting me touch him or be anywhere near him. He approached me on his own. I’m starting to kind of freak out because of the strange occurrences. I close my eyes to clear my thoughts, and when I open them, the horse is gone.
I’m disappointed. I was enraptured by the mysterious stallion. Since I only came to the forest to investigate what I saw last night, I didn’t bring anything with me. I suppose I could play with the animals or whistle to the birds, but I’m just not feeling it. So I head back to the library to do a little more research. Our library doesn’t have computers like most modern libraries, so I do what I can with books. I look in the horse section, but all I find there is a breed; Andalusian. That doesn’t really help.
As I walk to the section about animals native to our region, I pass the mythology section. Then it hits me. In the mythology book I was reading when I saw that strange boy, there is a beautiful painting of a white stallion emerging from a stream with water flying from it’s silvery mane.
The passage from the book comes slowly to my mind, “The Nokken of Celtic mythology is said to take many forms, such as a beautiful white stallion, a lilypad, a living pile of twigs, or a fair boy playing the violin in the middle of the water. He was said to lure small children and young women into the water with his various forms and drown them, much like the lion-tailed maiden Huldra of the forest.” Now I see the connection! I race out of the library and back home to get the book.
Once I get home, I run upstairs, grab the book and some food, and race back down the trail to the lake. When I get there I race up the dock and into the willow. Then I lay in a hammock of branches that cradle me and open the mythology book to the page of Celtic myths.
I look back at the stallion painted in the mythology book. I’m a little anxious. Was the horse trying to drown me? The Nokken was said to accept bits of steel or needles as a peace offering according to this book. Maybe that’s why he took my little keychain. I remember the spoon in my pocket. I had originally brought it as a gift for the nixies, but I guess it will have to do.
I pull the spoon out of my pocket and toss it into the lake. Then I turn my head in a circle, surveying the forest all around me, to see if the stallion returns. To my surprise, he does.
I climb down out of the tree, slow and cautious, and step onto the dock. The horse trots toward me from the trees. I put out my hand to stroke his muzzle and he folds his legs underneath him. I sink to my knees on the ground in front of him. I look off into the distance, lost in thought. I’m surprised that he comes into the open so willingly. If I was a mystical creature like him, I would be much more cautious about who I showed myself to. Of course, I am trustworthy, but he doesn’t know that. I could call the police, and he’d end up in a lab. Scientists all over the world would want to experiment on him, to discover the genetic makeup of a shapeshifter.
The sound of the horse snorting breaks me from my thoughts, but I don’t even fully turn back to look at him before the grand stallion rams it’s head into my stomach and uses it’s immense strength to toss me over it’s head and onto it’s back. I lay stunned on the horses back. My ribs sting from their collision with the stallion’s spine. He whinnies impatiently and tosses his head. I right myself and swing one leg over his back, because I’m pretty sure that’s what he wants.
He snorts happily and rises from the ground. His spine grates into the tender places between my legs, but I ignore it. I’ve never ridden bareback before, and now I know why. It feels amazing, but also uncomfortable. It’s like a motorcycle seat; one bump and you could slip right off. I can feel every muscle in his back as the stallion rises. As he does, I realize that I have absolutely nothing to hold onto, so I grab his mane like native americans in old western movies do. I’m careful not to hurt him by holding on too tightly, but as he starts to walk off of the dock I can’t help it; I clench handfuls of his mane in my fists.
He is lithe and graceful, moving with stunning silence over the root and twig covered forest floor. He gets off of the dock and turns around. When I realize that he’s headed for the water, my heart leaps.
“Wait!” I cry, and the horse stops short.
So he can understand me…
“Will you drown me?” I ask.
The horse turns suddenly and marches back from the water. He crouches down and lets me off his back. Then he looks at me with understanding, but also with…disappointment. Maybe he’s disappointed that I didn’t trust him, or that he can’t answer me as a horse. Before I can find out, though, he gallops off into the forest and out of sight.
For a while I just sit there in the dirt. I’m amazed that such a beautiful creature could exist. I feel bad from showing my doubt of him so openly. I should never believe rumors, but when it’s an old Celtic legend, there’s a large possibility of truth. However, he didn’t seem like he was trying to drown me, but then again that is the definition of lure.
I should be getting back, I remind myself. But it’s such a nice day...
Before I am fully conscious of my choice, I’m unzipping my sweatshirt and pulling off my cargo pants. I’m usually self conscious, but there’s nobody around to see me now that Nokken left. Besides, none of my underwear is white, so I’m more covered than if I were in a bikini. I put my clothes on the railing of the dock and walk to the end of it. A cool breeze caresses my nearly bare body. I climb to the top rail at the end of the dock and look down into the water to make sure it’s deep enough. It is.
Then I jump in without hesitation. The water is the perfect temperature; just a little colder than room temperature. My bra is saturated and my spandex shorts are soaked, but I don’t care. I dive down to the bottom of the lake, just five feet, and crawl along in the silt with my hands, kicking my feet gleefully behind me. When I come up for air I throw my head back and fling my hair up and over my head like a mermaid to keep the water from dripping into my eyes. When I open them, the stallion is there there leaning his head down through the railing of the dock, his face just inches from mine.
“Hello.” I say to him, then reach out and touch him, this time without hesitation. He doesn’t shy away, he meets me with the same eagerness in his touch. I throw myself backwards into the water with my hands in streamline and then kick away on my back like an otter. The horse backs up the dock and then runs forward, launching himself over the dock railing and through the air into the water. He lands with a huge splash, making me laugh, and then swims after me. He looks like he was born to swim, although most horses don’t swim well at all. His mane writhes like his black hair did in human form. His legs touch the muddy lake floor. I do a half back flip so I’m swimming toward him underwater and open my eyes. I dart right between his front legs, then weave around his back legs and come up for air. He snorts in confusion and looks frantically in front of him for me.
I fill my mouth with lake water, tasting the earth and plantlife, and then spray it at him like a fountain. He whinnies happily at the game and tosses his head, shaking the droplets of water from his mane everywhere. I swim up alongside him and hug around his neck. I mean it lovingly, but the stallion takes it playfully and begins to gallop through the water. I hang on tight as the water rushes along my body, nearly peeling off my shorts as it does so. I’m starting to slip, so the stallion slows down a bit to let me climb onto his back. I grab his mane and swing a slippery leg over his back. His fur is even silkier when it’s wet. He swims off toward the middle of the lake. When we are in almost the exact center, in a patch of water lilies, he stops. I hop off of him and we both tread water to stay afloat. As tread, I look at the water lilies. They’re red, like nothing I’ve ever seen before.When I look back up, the horse is gone. I didn’t even hear him swim away.
I swim for a little while longer, just in case the horse comes back, but when he doesn’t I swim sullenly back to shore, only enjoying the swim a little bit. I climb out of the gentle, perfect waters and onto the muddy shore. It squishes between my toes as I walk to the place where I left my clothes. When I arrive, they’re gone. I’m starting to worry when I hear someone behind me walking and breathing.
“Willow?” asks an uncertain voice. It’s not a voice I’ve heard before, it’s richly accented with scandinavian tones. I can’t tell who it belongs to or where it’s coming from. Whoever it is does not need to see me like this. I glance around, but I can’t see anyone because I left my glasses in my hoodie at the dock.
The voice calls again, “Willow, over here!”
The voice is coming from the end of the dock. I look over. It’s the boy I saw last night. Unlike last night, he’s only wearing the leather trousers. In his hands, he holds my clothes. When I don’t answer his call, he runs to the other end of the dock and vaults himself over the railing onto the ground in front of me.
So graceful.
“Is that your name? Willow?” he asks.
I’m too surprised to answer, I never expected anyone to see me when I took my clothes off.
“Anybody home?” he asks, waving his hand, with my clothes in it, in front of my face.
“Yes.” I say, regaining my voice, “Yes, I’m Willow.”
“Hello.” He says to me, not realizing that this situation is not normal for me. I fold my arms over my exposed chest.
“Who are you?” I ask. I know the answer, but I want to know which name he calls himself.
“People call me many things.” he replies. “ However, I have a feeling you know most of them. You seem to be interested in mythology.”
“Are you the Nokken?” I ask.
“Or the Fossegrim, or the Neck, or Nokk. You can call me what you like.”
“What is your name? I didn’t ask what people call you, I asked what you call yourself; your name.” I insist.
He frowns, considering, “My name is Nokken. That’s what my mother named me.”
“Oh.” I say. “So, I’m curious...what, exactly, are you?”
“What do you mean what am I?” He snaps. A pang of mixed guilt and regret writhes in my chest. I feel awful for asking. How could I be so stupid? Now he’ll probably never talk to me again. This is why I’m antisocial.
“I just meant… You’re different from me.” I explain, but it comes out sounding offensive and not a compliment as I meant it to be. He just stares. “I mean, you’re special. Good special. You can do things I can’t do. Like turning into a horse”
“Oh,” He says, all offense gone. “I don’t even know what I am. I haven’t really discovered all my forms yet.”
“Oh.” I say, Then eagerly ask, “Are you the only magical creature?”
“What? Magical? Who said anything about magical?” He says indignantly.
“Well, I take the word magic to mean ‘science we don’t understand yet.’” I explain.
“I wouldn’t consider myself magical, but I am pretty cool.” He says hotheadedly.
I laugh, and when he sees how I’m covering my chest, he blushes deep red and says suddenly, “I--I should--I should go…” He thrusts my clothes into my arms and runs straight into the water, vanishing when he touches it. My jaw drops open and I stand there like a total idiot for a minute.
I hear a twig snap to my right and I whirl around, surprised. My abruptness is met by a lovely young girl with a friendly smile. I almost think she’s a human, but two round tan ears with black inside poke out from her beautiful golden hair and a little lion’s tail swishes back and forth behind her. She wears old celtic clothes, like Nokken’s. She looks like something from my mythology book.
“Huldra?” I ask, bewildered.
“How did you know?” She asks happily, with a strongly scandinavian accented voice.
“Books.” I reply, making her smile.
“Come on, I’ll find you something dry to wear.” She says, taking my hand and leading me away from the dock before I can say no. I look back, but Nokken is nowhere in sight. She leads me through the woods in my underwear, until we reach a place she seems to know.
She calls out, “Sprites!”
“Sprites?” I ask.
“You’ve never heard of ‘em?” she asks.
“No, it’s just… I didn’t know they were real.” I tell her.
“Ah… humans typically choose not to believe in any creature more genetically gifted than themselves. They truly believe they are a superior species, but I will be inferior to no one.” she says very determinedly.
“I’ve noticed.” I say.
“But you aren’t one of them?” She asks.
“Umm, no I’m human.” I reply confusedly.
“I meant, you do believe powerful and gifted creatures?” She clarifies.
“Oh, right. Yes, I do.” I say. “Saying you don’t is like saying there’s no such thing as evolution.”
She looks like she’s about to agree, but the first sprite appears. He seems to melt from inside the tree, gliding through the bark just like it were water. He looks like a human child, but with green skin that flickers transparently like a spirit. More come after that; all of them children.
That’s peculiar, I thought there were older ones, too, I think. I wonder why they’re all children.
The boy children gape at me in my bra and shorts with wide eyes, but the young girls look sympathetic.
“Hello” I greet them. They exchange a knowing glance amongst themselves, and then seem to agree on something.
A little girl steps forward and says, “Hello. I’m Astara. This is my brother Luca, and the rest of us.” She gestures to a little boy and then to the others. “We heard you wondering why we are all children. That’s just because the older ones are too weak to leave their trees. We have more strength and freedom because we’re young. And those of us who are your physical maturity are too busy courting to be of any consequence.”
“Wait- you can hear my thoughts? And, you are like nymphs! Your life forces are tied to the trees! I knew it!” I exclaim, allowing myself to get a little carried away. The children just nod and laugh gleefully. I didn’t know sprites were telepathic, but then again how could I have?
“Sprites and nymphs are the same thing,” says Astara. “The Greeks just had a different name.
The littlest girl, who looks to be about two, takes my hand and says, “Come on, human. You are almost naked. I’ll get you clothes.” She says it as if I don’t already know.
I laugh and say, “That’d be great.”
We walk until we get to a huge circle of trees; young, old, tall, short, oak, pine... Two of them bow down across each other like a doorway to the circle. The sprites lead me through the doorway, Huldra lingering behind us. her eyes tell me she’ll wait there. The sprites all fade into their spirit trees with a translucent greenish flicker. Moments later, they emerge with cloth and thread and ribbons all made from the forest. Strips of bark are pressed into fine ribbon, and coated in what looks like tree sap. The thread looks like it’s made of plant fibers, and the cloth is woven from all different plant life, such as river grass or dandelions.
My mom will definitely notice if I walk through the front door dressed like a sprite, I think, but I can’t tell them no. Besides, this will be worth it. I just know.
The sprites wrap me in shining cloth made of meadow grass woven in with cherry blossoms and clover flowers. Then they cinch it up with a belt of bark strips glued to the cloth with sap. I look like a greek nymph. Then the girls braid clovers and flowers into my hair and wrap vines of ivy through it.
“Thank you!” I exclaim. “I look… magical!”
They just giggle and fade back into their trees without a word. Huldra says, “They don’t much like goodbyes, so they just leave abruptly to avoid ‘em,” she explains. “Come on, I need to talk with you.”
“Umm, okay...where at?” I ask.
“My den.” she says. “It’s not far from here. Don’t worry, I’m not what the legends say I am. I think it would benefit you greatly to learn some things now that you know about all of us.”
“Oh,” I say. “Oh, thank you!”
“It’s my pleasure.” She replies. “I’ve been wanting to speak to a human again.”
We walk for about two minutes before reaching a rocky outcropping of rock hanging over the lake. Huldra walks to the end of it and then turns around, crouches, and grabs the edge. Then she drops gracefully down so that she is hanging from the ledge.
“Follow.” She commands. After she has climbed down out of sight I go to the edge and look down. about five feet down there is another ledge, and Huldra sits on it, waiting for me. I drop down the way she did, only a lot less gracefully. Once there, I see why we climbed here. The ledge is like the front porch of Huldra’s den. Beyond it is a large cave lit only by what little sunlight reaches it and the small glow of a dying fire coming from within. Huldra leads me inside towards the firelight. The cave is damp and dank, but smells pleasant like lilacs and campfire. Closer to the fire there are woven river grass mats laid out on the ground and soft bird’s down covering the cave floor like a nest. There’s also a woven basket of fruit and flowers in the corner, making the whole scene cozy, yet wild.
“Please, have a seat,” says Huldra hospitably. “We obviously have a lot to talk about.”
“Okay.” I say and sit down on a mat. Huldra sits, too, across the fire from me.
“So you’ve met my cousin.” She says.
“Cousin…?”
“Nokken. He’s my cousin, he is.” She explains.
“Oh!” I exclaim. I never would have come to that conclusion on my own. “How...?”
“Let me tell you a story. The ancient Celts were a diverse group of tribal societies in Scandinavia around the Iron Age; at least that’s what your elders tell you. In the tribe Demetae, where Nokken and I lived, we had legends of strange and dangerous magic. Kelpies and spirits, forest seductresses with mind controlling power… The myths varied from place to place, making it so that nobody really believed them; just stories to tell around the village bonfire. My mother was a brave woman. She was not only kind and loving, but she was a force to be reckoned with. She joined the men in battle, like did the other women of our time. We lived where sexism had never been introduced and often the women were more fearsome than the men, and of course much prettier.” She adds with a wink. “We lived in a small farmin’ tribe; Demetae. I told you that already. We were free to come and go between the tribes, but unless we married out of our clan, or became an apprentice for an artisan, a bard, a druid priest, or a warrior we had no reason to venture very far from our homesteads. One day, while father was out fishing with my uncle and mother and aunt were gatherin’ ripe fruit, they left me home to watch the children. We were all very close-knit. Nokken and me were the eldest still at home, and we were on the brink of courtin’ age. Our older brothers and sisters had long since been married, the three of them. Mindin’ my own business at the loom I was, when the six little young’uns come bargin’ in, knockin’ o’er tables an’ all. Then in rushes Nokken, chasin’ the wee children, makin’ monstrous noises. They were all laughin’ an’ screamin’ and havin’ a lot of fun. Then says nokken, ‘I be takin’ the babies down to the lake for a dip. They been beggin’ me all day.’
“‘Oh, no you’re not,’ says I, ‘Mum an’ Aunty are always tellin’ you, you can’t go down there when nobody’s around to watch ya.’ O’ course he didn’t listen, the troublemaker he is. He took those babies down without a second thought. I stayed home and worked my loom, knowin’ he’d be the one to get in trouble, not I. I knew he’d take care of the babies; it was him I worried about, he was always gettin’ himself into trouble. I worked my loom all day. I was so focused on it that I didn’t notice anything else ‘til the blanket was done. By then it was gettin’ rather dark. So, I went out to look for ‘em. I was a few yards outside the roundhouse when the children came runnin’ around the storehouse. I was so relieved I didn’t at first notice; Nokken wasn’t there.”
She pauses to get her breath and I wait patiently and quietly for the rest of the story. “I asked ‘em where he was, an’ little Agata burst into tears. They all followed suit soon after. I lead ‘em inside, the soakin’ wet babies, an’ got ‘em warmed up on their mats all covered in blankets. Then I take Uaine aside an’ ask him where Nokken is. He was oldest of the little ones. A tear streaks down his face. ‘Swept away by the current most like, it was strong today. One second he’s there, I look back an’ he’s not. So I brought the babies home, I did, so nobody else got lost.’ says Uaine to me. I looked at the children, traumatized and soakin’ wet on their mats.
“When Mum and ‘em got home it was well into the night. All the babies were asleep, so I told ‘em what had happened. They all knew there was no point in goin’ out to look, it was too dark even for torches, so they all lay down an’ went to sleep. Not I, I knew Nokken was to clever to let himself be drowned, an’ he would need help findin’ his way home. So I wrapped me-self in a shawl, lit me a torch, and set out for the lake. Down the path out of the homestead and over the little stone wall, and straight down to the lake bed I went. There I was met by an odd green glow. I walked out further into the water to see what it was, only to see the face of my cousin with his eyes replaced by glowin’ green orbs. I ran away from there as fast as I could. Never in my short life had I seen anything so disturbin’ as that night. He called out to me, but I kept running. I tripped and my torch burned out, but I still ran, not even sure where I was going. In a wild panic, I caught my foot on a tree root, fell, and hit my head on a rock, knocking me unconscious.”
She stops again, but this time she seems to be waiting for me to say something. “What happened when you woke up?” I ask her.
“I didn’t, not right away.” she replies, “I went somewhere. Somewhere big and empty. The only other thing there besides me was a beautiful winged person. She told me that I had a choice. Cernnunos, the God of all things who connects earth, sea, and sky, sent her as a messenger to me. He said, ‘You may choose the form of any animal you wish and take it as your own.You may even choose to shift forms. Or you can become like me, an angel soldier of Cernnunos.’ She said it was odd that me and my cousin should both die on the same night, and she told me what choice he’d made. She said I’d be given powers, and some of Cernnunos’s territory to take care of. So I chose to become what I am now. But with the shape came an even harder choice.”
“What choice?” I ask, bewildered.
“The choice to live forever. She said Nokken had chosen to live forever, too. She’d given him control of the water he’d died in and special powers related to it. She also gave him several forms. Then she gave me the forest I’d died in and powers related to it. I also have several forms. Now I am this way, forever.” She explains.
“But why would you chose to live forever and never go to heaven?” I ask, mortified.
“We will go to heaven. We are like angels, but with a different job. Cernunnos is just another name for Zeus, Jesus, the King God.” She pulls a bible from under one of the mats. “In revelations, it says after a certain amount of time, the world will end. Then there will be chaos, and then there will be a new heaven and a new Earth. And after that, everyone will be delivered from hell. Well, God lets you choose what you will be for eternity. Most people choose angel, but Nokken and I wanted to be here.” She tells me. “And Nokken is happy the way he is.”
For a moment, I say nothing, but then I have another question. “How did you get here?”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I mean, if you and Nokken are from Demetae, how did you get to America?” I explain.
“Oh. When people started migrating to this new free land, I thought it sounded pretty good after so long being stuck where all those bad memories are for so long. Not to mention some people had seen us in that time; given us legends. We both had a history there that we wanted to put behind us, so I talked Nokken into going. Neither of us can leave our energy sources for long, so we brought pieces of our homes with us. They weren’t enough, and we were so weakened out getting here, but once we did we were easily able to find new energy sources. Nokken is much happier now that he’s left his red lilies behind.”
“What?” I ask.
“When Nokken died, he left behind somebody special to him. Gwendolyn was her name. She was beautiful. They were good friends, but Nokken never found out if she loved him or not. He certainly loved her. One day, her father was out fishing on Nokken’s lake. Nokken knew he was having trouble keeping his family fed, so Nokken decided he could reveal himself. He told the man that he loved Gwendolyn, and that he would help the man catch fish in his lake if he could have Gwendolyn for his wife on her eighteenth birthday. Desperate, the father said yes. On Gwendolyn’s eighteenth birthday she came down to the water wearing a flowing white dress. Nokken was delighted that she’d come. They talked pleasantly for some time, until Nokken asked Gwendolyn to swim with him. She had heard rumors about him and was convinced that he was no longer the boy she had known. In fear, she pulled a dagger from the fold of her gown and pluged it through her heart. Then she bled to death in Nokken’s arms, all the while crying in fear of him. The blood flowed into the water, washed over the water lilies, and stained them red. Nokken was so haunted by it that he turned the waterlilies permanently red in her honor. He still has them here, too, so that he never forgets his folly.” She tells me.
“That’s so horrible.” I say, not really knowing what else there is to say.
“It’s not as bad as being called a demon seductress for all eternity.” She says rather angrily.
“I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding,” I say soothingly.
“It wasn’t!” She protests. “He came to hunt me; the strange woman livin’ in the wood. But when he found me, he told me he loved me, and that he’d changed his mind. He said I wasn’t any threat and that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, and I believed him. What a fool I was. I took him to my den so that he’d have a dry place to sleep, but sleep wasn’t what he was really after. We… you know.” she blushes. “I fell asleep bare in his arms, and when I awoke he was gone. He took with him the tale of a demon seductress livin’ in a cave near the lake. Nine months later, he was brought back to me in the form of a baby; Claudia. I loved her from the moment I saw her. From her innocent eyes to her wee little toes. She was a year old when her father again returned, this time in person. With him were other men here to hunt the demon seductress and her spawn. They never found Claudia, for she was with Nokken making daisy chains in the meadow. I slaughtered her father and those who sought to harm her. I thought I’d have Claudia forever, but she’d inherited more than her looks from the filthy man who gave her to me. She had inherited his mortality.”
She stops, and I am speechless. Nobody should have to live forever. Nobody should have to live alone without their daughter. This is all wrong, and it’s needs to be put right. I get up and walk around the fire to hug her spontaneously. I know it won’t solve anything, but it’s just the right thing to do. She hugs me tightly back.
“You’ll see her again someday. After all of what you said happens. You can be together.” I say sincerely, “Thank you for telling me all that. You helped me a lot.”
“You’re welcome, it felt good to finally tell somebody who understands what it is to be human.” She says.
“You’re are still human, though, right?” I ask, puzzled. She shakes her head.
“No. When Nokken and I gained our powers, we also gained eternal life. Just so long as we cling to a power source, that is. We also were changed genetically. Nokken has… his eyes and gills. And I have my lion tail and…” She trails off and her eyes drift to the dancing, flickering firelight. I see the sunrise orange reflection dance in her blue eyes, too.
“And what?” I press, feeling bad for asking, but I’m too curious to resist. In answer, she unlaces her corset and turns around. Then she she slips her dress down to reveal her back. I expect to see smooth, pale skin, fair and flawless like the rest of her. What I do see is quite different. Hard, rough tree bark covers her entire spine, fanning out to curve around her whole back. It transitions flawlessly into her human skin, just below her neck. I gasp, before I can stop myself, and reach out to touch it. I need to see that it’s real. The rough bark massages my skin as I slide my hand over it.
“Whoa,” is all I can manage to say.
“I know, it’s awful.” She says in a voice lathered in shame.
“No! It’s... enchanting and unique! You’re lucky to have something like this, I’ve always wanted something like that.” I assure her.
“The grass is always greener on the other side…” Huldra mutters.
“I guess you’re right…” I say, relenting. “So, what do I do now? Now that I know, I mean. I think I made Nokken hate me and…”
“He’s just a wee bit moody, is all. Being isolated all these years... he has very poor social skills. I brought you here to speak with you about him. You see, he has only ever taken to liking a few humans since we became this way. He gets rather lonely. I made friends with the nymphs and other forest things, but he doesn’t much care for them, or leave the water much for that matter. After he was exposed, people avoided his lakes. A few people had drowned in them and he was blamed for it, even though he had warned them not to come in the water and tried to help them. After the Gwendolyn incidence, he stopped trying all together. He avoided humans for a long time. He became distant even from me. Now that I think about it, you are the first human he’s even looked at since Gwendolyn.” She explains.
“So… You think I scared him off?” I ask.
“No, I meant the very opposite. I think you have a good chance of befriendin’ him. I never got the chance to speak to Gwendolyn this way, but maybe if I had she wouldn’t have died.” She says sadly.
“It’s not your fault, though. What she did was her choice. It was very brave, and sad that it was unnecessary.” I console her.
“Oh, I know that, believe me. I know that. I just wish it hadn’t been so. If I could go back and change it I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d change everythin’ startin’ with lettin’ Nokken go to the lake that day.”
There doesn’t seem to be anything left to say, so I just watch the fire. I like the way the flame swishes back and forth with the breeze through the cave, and seems to dance like a spirit on the wind.”
When it becomes clear to Huldra that I am not going to reply, she asks, “Well, are you not going to try again with Nokken?”
Stupid cat, I think. I open my eyes to an adorable, furry, calico face with it’s tongue still out to lick me again and I sigh.
“Tigerlily…” I moan groggily. I push her off and cover my head with my blankets. I’m about to go back to sleep when I suddenly remember last night. I look at the clock; it’s 7:00am. I throw my laptop open. Still no internet. So I jump off my bed and onto the floor then turn around and grab Tigerlily off the bed and set her down. I throw on my glasses, a hoodie, a bra, and cargo pants, all of which are black. I don’t even bother about a shirt. Then I run downstairs and burst into the kitchen. I grab a piece of paper from the computer desk and scribble a note for mom on it:
Mom,
Went to meet Ivy @ library. Sry about last night. I hope I didn’t lose ur trust. Call Ivy’s cell if you want confirmation.
-Willow
I hope the note’s cuteness factor will work enough that mom won’t call Ivy or get mad, and I sure hope Ivy won’t mind covering for me again if mom does call. I rummage in the unpacked boxes littering the kitchen for tape. When I find some I tape the note to the inside of the front door. Then I grab a spoon from the drawer, shove it in my pocket and run down the sidewalk, past the library, into the woods, and straight to the lake. When I finally stop I’m hunched, breathless, at the end of the dock.
When I can breathe again, I call, “Hello?!”
I’m glad nobody else is here, because I look like a total lunatic. Ten minutes go by and nothing happens. Then I hear something on the dock behind me and turn. I’m stunned by what I see.
Standing on the dock in front of me is a huge white stallion. It’s muscles flex forcefully beneath it’s silvery hide; standing at attention. It’s clearly wild, with cattails and river grass threaded gracefully through it’s mane as if skillfully placed there by a crafty nymph. It’s flowing mane glistens in the sunlight. It looks like rippling water. It looks at me with it’s head cocked in curiosity, but it’s eyes wild with caution. I slowly drop to my knees, shrinking down to weakness to show it that I’m not the one to be feared. Instead of doing nothing, like I expected, it does the same. It folds it’s forelegs underneath itself and bends it’s back legs down. I can’t resist; I slowly edge forward toward the majestic animal. When I’m a few feet away it starts to shake with nervous anticipation.
“Hey,” I croon to it, “It’s okay, baby. Willow just wants to touch you, that’s all.”
The stallion whinnies beautifully in response to my soothing words. I slowly reach out my hand to touch it, but stop hesitantly a few inches from it’s face. It shies away a few inches, but then it’s forehead drifts up to meet my hand. His soft, silky fur amazes me. I’ve pet horses before, ridden them even, but none of them felt this way. I stroke from his muzzle to his forehead over and over. Soon, he has relaxed completely and is laying on the dock next to me. I’m so amazed by the beautifully surprising animal I’ve met that I pet him for about half an hour before it dawns on me that I’m petting a beautiful white stallion in the middle of a forest where horses are not native.
“Are you...” I start, but remember that it’s a horse I’m talking to. I just don’t understand, though, why I stallion would come up to me in the middle of the forest and not be afraid of me. Yet there is something in the stallion’s eyes that portrays distrust and caution, but if it was extreme, he would be letting me touch him or be anywhere near him. He approached me on his own. I’m starting to kind of freak out because of the strange occurrences. I close my eyes to clear my thoughts, and when I open them, the horse is gone.
I’m disappointed. I was enraptured by the mysterious stallion. Since I only came to the forest to investigate what I saw last night, I didn’t bring anything with me. I suppose I could play with the animals or whistle to the birds, but I’m just not feeling it. So I head back to the library to do a little more research. Our library doesn’t have computers like most modern libraries, so I do what I can with books. I look in the horse section, but all I find there is a breed; Andalusian. That doesn’t really help.
As I walk to the section about animals native to our region, I pass the mythology section. Then it hits me. In the mythology book I was reading when I saw that strange boy, there is a beautiful painting of a white stallion emerging from a stream with water flying from it’s silvery mane.
The passage from the book comes slowly to my mind, “The Nokken of Celtic mythology is said to take many forms, such as a beautiful white stallion, a lilypad, a living pile of twigs, or a fair boy playing the violin in the middle of the water. He was said to lure small children and young women into the water with his various forms and drown them, much like the lion-tailed maiden Huldra of the forest.” Now I see the connection! I race out of the library and back home to get the book.
Once I get home, I run upstairs, grab the book and some food, and race back down the trail to the lake. When I get there I race up the dock and into the willow. Then I lay in a hammock of branches that cradle me and open the mythology book to the page of Celtic myths.
I look back at the stallion painted in the mythology book. I’m a little anxious. Was the horse trying to drown me? The Nokken was said to accept bits of steel or needles as a peace offering according to this book. Maybe that’s why he took my little keychain. I remember the spoon in my pocket. I had originally brought it as a gift for the nixies, but I guess it will have to do.
I pull the spoon out of my pocket and toss it into the lake. Then I turn my head in a circle, surveying the forest all around me, to see if the stallion returns. To my surprise, he does.
I climb down out of the tree, slow and cautious, and step onto the dock. The horse trots toward me from the trees. I put out my hand to stroke his muzzle and he folds his legs underneath him. I sink to my knees on the ground in front of him. I look off into the distance, lost in thought. I’m surprised that he comes into the open so willingly. If I was a mystical creature like him, I would be much more cautious about who I showed myself to. Of course, I am trustworthy, but he doesn’t know that. I could call the police, and he’d end up in a lab. Scientists all over the world would want to experiment on him, to discover the genetic makeup of a shapeshifter.
The sound of the horse snorting breaks me from my thoughts, but I don’t even fully turn back to look at him before the grand stallion rams it’s head into my stomach and uses it’s immense strength to toss me over it’s head and onto it’s back. I lay stunned on the horses back. My ribs sting from their collision with the stallion’s spine. He whinnies impatiently and tosses his head. I right myself and swing one leg over his back, because I’m pretty sure that’s what he wants.
He snorts happily and rises from the ground. His spine grates into the tender places between my legs, but I ignore it. I’ve never ridden bareback before, and now I know why. It feels amazing, but also uncomfortable. It’s like a motorcycle seat; one bump and you could slip right off. I can feel every muscle in his back as the stallion rises. As he does, I realize that I have absolutely nothing to hold onto, so I grab his mane like native americans in old western movies do. I’m careful not to hurt him by holding on too tightly, but as he starts to walk off of the dock I can’t help it; I clench handfuls of his mane in my fists.
He is lithe and graceful, moving with stunning silence over the root and twig covered forest floor. He gets off of the dock and turns around. When I realize that he’s headed for the water, my heart leaps.
“Wait!” I cry, and the horse stops short.
So he can understand me…
“Will you drown me?” I ask.
The horse turns suddenly and marches back from the water. He crouches down and lets me off his back. Then he looks at me with understanding, but also with…disappointment. Maybe he’s disappointed that I didn’t trust him, or that he can’t answer me as a horse. Before I can find out, though, he gallops off into the forest and out of sight.
For a while I just sit there in the dirt. I’m amazed that such a beautiful creature could exist. I feel bad from showing my doubt of him so openly. I should never believe rumors, but when it’s an old Celtic legend, there’s a large possibility of truth. However, he didn’t seem like he was trying to drown me, but then again that is the definition of lure.
I should be getting back, I remind myself. But it’s such a nice day...
Before I am fully conscious of my choice, I’m unzipping my sweatshirt and pulling off my cargo pants. I’m usually self conscious, but there’s nobody around to see me now that Nokken left. Besides, none of my underwear is white, so I’m more covered than if I were in a bikini. I put my clothes on the railing of the dock and walk to the end of it. A cool breeze caresses my nearly bare body. I climb to the top rail at the end of the dock and look down into the water to make sure it’s deep enough. It is.
Then I jump in without hesitation. The water is the perfect temperature; just a little colder than room temperature. My bra is saturated and my spandex shorts are soaked, but I don’t care. I dive down to the bottom of the lake, just five feet, and crawl along in the silt with my hands, kicking my feet gleefully behind me. When I come up for air I throw my head back and fling my hair up and over my head like a mermaid to keep the water from dripping into my eyes. When I open them, the stallion is there there leaning his head down through the railing of the dock, his face just inches from mine.
“Hello.” I say to him, then reach out and touch him, this time without hesitation. He doesn’t shy away, he meets me with the same eagerness in his touch. I throw myself backwards into the water with my hands in streamline and then kick away on my back like an otter. The horse backs up the dock and then runs forward, launching himself over the dock railing and through the air into the water. He lands with a huge splash, making me laugh, and then swims after me. He looks like he was born to swim, although most horses don’t swim well at all. His mane writhes like his black hair did in human form. His legs touch the muddy lake floor. I do a half back flip so I’m swimming toward him underwater and open my eyes. I dart right between his front legs, then weave around his back legs and come up for air. He snorts in confusion and looks frantically in front of him for me.
I fill my mouth with lake water, tasting the earth and plantlife, and then spray it at him like a fountain. He whinnies happily at the game and tosses his head, shaking the droplets of water from his mane everywhere. I swim up alongside him and hug around his neck. I mean it lovingly, but the stallion takes it playfully and begins to gallop through the water. I hang on tight as the water rushes along my body, nearly peeling off my shorts as it does so. I’m starting to slip, so the stallion slows down a bit to let me climb onto his back. I grab his mane and swing a slippery leg over his back. His fur is even silkier when it’s wet. He swims off toward the middle of the lake. When we are in almost the exact center, in a patch of water lilies, he stops. I hop off of him and we both tread water to stay afloat. As tread, I look at the water lilies. They’re red, like nothing I’ve ever seen before.When I look back up, the horse is gone. I didn’t even hear him swim away.
I swim for a little while longer, just in case the horse comes back, but when he doesn’t I swim sullenly back to shore, only enjoying the swim a little bit. I climb out of the gentle, perfect waters and onto the muddy shore. It squishes between my toes as I walk to the place where I left my clothes. When I arrive, they’re gone. I’m starting to worry when I hear someone behind me walking and breathing.
“Willow?” asks an uncertain voice. It’s not a voice I’ve heard before, it’s richly accented with scandinavian tones. I can’t tell who it belongs to or where it’s coming from. Whoever it is does not need to see me like this. I glance around, but I can’t see anyone because I left my glasses in my hoodie at the dock.
The voice calls again, “Willow, over here!”
The voice is coming from the end of the dock. I look over. It’s the boy I saw last night. Unlike last night, he’s only wearing the leather trousers. In his hands, he holds my clothes. When I don’t answer his call, he runs to the other end of the dock and vaults himself over the railing onto the ground in front of me.
So graceful.
“Is that your name? Willow?” he asks.
I’m too surprised to answer, I never expected anyone to see me when I took my clothes off.
“Anybody home?” he asks, waving his hand, with my clothes in it, in front of my face.
“Yes.” I say, regaining my voice, “Yes, I’m Willow.”
“Hello.” He says to me, not realizing that this situation is not normal for me. I fold my arms over my exposed chest.
“Who are you?” I ask. I know the answer, but I want to know which name he calls himself.
“People call me many things.” he replies. “ However, I have a feeling you know most of them. You seem to be interested in mythology.”
“Are you the Nokken?” I ask.
“Or the Fossegrim, or the Neck, or Nokk. You can call me what you like.”
“What is your name? I didn’t ask what people call you, I asked what you call yourself; your name.” I insist.
He frowns, considering, “My name is Nokken. That’s what my mother named me.”
“Oh.” I say. “So, I’m curious...what, exactly, are you?”
“What do you mean what am I?” He snaps. A pang of mixed guilt and regret writhes in my chest. I feel awful for asking. How could I be so stupid? Now he’ll probably never talk to me again. This is why I’m antisocial.
“I just meant… You’re different from me.” I explain, but it comes out sounding offensive and not a compliment as I meant it to be. He just stares. “I mean, you’re special. Good special. You can do things I can’t do. Like turning into a horse”
“Oh,” He says, all offense gone. “I don’t even know what I am. I haven’t really discovered all my forms yet.”
“Oh.” I say, Then eagerly ask, “Are you the only magical creature?”
“What? Magical? Who said anything about magical?” He says indignantly.
“Well, I take the word magic to mean ‘science we don’t understand yet.’” I explain.
“I wouldn’t consider myself magical, but I am pretty cool.” He says hotheadedly.
I laugh, and when he sees how I’m covering my chest, he blushes deep red and says suddenly, “I--I should--I should go…” He thrusts my clothes into my arms and runs straight into the water, vanishing when he touches it. My jaw drops open and I stand there like a total idiot for a minute.
I hear a twig snap to my right and I whirl around, surprised. My abruptness is met by a lovely young girl with a friendly smile. I almost think she’s a human, but two round tan ears with black inside poke out from her beautiful golden hair and a little lion’s tail swishes back and forth behind her. She wears old celtic clothes, like Nokken’s. She looks like something from my mythology book.
“Huldra?” I ask, bewildered.
“How did you know?” She asks happily, with a strongly scandinavian accented voice.
“Books.” I reply, making her smile.
“Come on, I’ll find you something dry to wear.” She says, taking my hand and leading me away from the dock before I can say no. I look back, but Nokken is nowhere in sight. She leads me through the woods in my underwear, until we reach a place she seems to know.
She calls out, “Sprites!”
“Sprites?” I ask.
“You’ve never heard of ‘em?” she asks.
“No, it’s just… I didn’t know they were real.” I tell her.
“Ah… humans typically choose not to believe in any creature more genetically gifted than themselves. They truly believe they are a superior species, but I will be inferior to no one.” she says very determinedly.
“I’ve noticed.” I say.
“But you aren’t one of them?” She asks.
“Umm, no I’m human.” I reply confusedly.
“I meant, you do believe powerful and gifted creatures?” She clarifies.
“Oh, right. Yes, I do.” I say. “Saying you don’t is like saying there’s no such thing as evolution.”
She looks like she’s about to agree, but the first sprite appears. He seems to melt from inside the tree, gliding through the bark just like it were water. He looks like a human child, but with green skin that flickers transparently like a spirit. More come after that; all of them children.
That’s peculiar, I thought there were older ones, too, I think. I wonder why they’re all children.
The boy children gape at me in my bra and shorts with wide eyes, but the young girls look sympathetic.
“Hello” I greet them. They exchange a knowing glance amongst themselves, and then seem to agree on something.
A little girl steps forward and says, “Hello. I’m Astara. This is my brother Luca, and the rest of us.” She gestures to a little boy and then to the others. “We heard you wondering why we are all children. That’s just because the older ones are too weak to leave their trees. We have more strength and freedom because we’re young. And those of us who are your physical maturity are too busy courting to be of any consequence.”
“Wait- you can hear my thoughts? And, you are like nymphs! Your life forces are tied to the trees! I knew it!” I exclaim, allowing myself to get a little carried away. The children just nod and laugh gleefully. I didn’t know sprites were telepathic, but then again how could I have?
“Sprites and nymphs are the same thing,” says Astara. “The Greeks just had a different name.
The littlest girl, who looks to be about two, takes my hand and says, “Come on, human. You are almost naked. I’ll get you clothes.” She says it as if I don’t already know.
I laugh and say, “That’d be great.”
We walk until we get to a huge circle of trees; young, old, tall, short, oak, pine... Two of them bow down across each other like a doorway to the circle. The sprites lead me through the doorway, Huldra lingering behind us. her eyes tell me she’ll wait there. The sprites all fade into their spirit trees with a translucent greenish flicker. Moments later, they emerge with cloth and thread and ribbons all made from the forest. Strips of bark are pressed into fine ribbon, and coated in what looks like tree sap. The thread looks like it’s made of plant fibers, and the cloth is woven from all different plant life, such as river grass or dandelions.
My mom will definitely notice if I walk through the front door dressed like a sprite, I think, but I can’t tell them no. Besides, this will be worth it. I just know.
The sprites wrap me in shining cloth made of meadow grass woven in with cherry blossoms and clover flowers. Then they cinch it up with a belt of bark strips glued to the cloth with sap. I look like a greek nymph. Then the girls braid clovers and flowers into my hair and wrap vines of ivy through it.
“Thank you!” I exclaim. “I look… magical!”
They just giggle and fade back into their trees without a word. Huldra says, “They don’t much like goodbyes, so they just leave abruptly to avoid ‘em,” she explains. “Come on, I need to talk with you.”
“Umm, okay...where at?” I ask.
“My den.” she says. “It’s not far from here. Don’t worry, I’m not what the legends say I am. I think it would benefit you greatly to learn some things now that you know about all of us.”
“Oh,” I say. “Oh, thank you!”
“It’s my pleasure.” She replies. “I’ve been wanting to speak to a human again.”
We walk for about two minutes before reaching a rocky outcropping of rock hanging over the lake. Huldra walks to the end of it and then turns around, crouches, and grabs the edge. Then she drops gracefully down so that she is hanging from the ledge.
“Follow.” She commands. After she has climbed down out of sight I go to the edge and look down. about five feet down there is another ledge, and Huldra sits on it, waiting for me. I drop down the way she did, only a lot less gracefully. Once there, I see why we climbed here. The ledge is like the front porch of Huldra’s den. Beyond it is a large cave lit only by what little sunlight reaches it and the small glow of a dying fire coming from within. Huldra leads me inside towards the firelight. The cave is damp and dank, but smells pleasant like lilacs and campfire. Closer to the fire there are woven river grass mats laid out on the ground and soft bird’s down covering the cave floor like a nest. There’s also a woven basket of fruit and flowers in the corner, making the whole scene cozy, yet wild.
“Please, have a seat,” says Huldra hospitably. “We obviously have a lot to talk about.”
“Okay.” I say and sit down on a mat. Huldra sits, too, across the fire from me.
“So you’ve met my cousin.” She says.
“Cousin…?”
“Nokken. He’s my cousin, he is.” She explains.
“Oh!” I exclaim. I never would have come to that conclusion on my own. “How...?”
“Let me tell you a story. The ancient Celts were a diverse group of tribal societies in Scandinavia around the Iron Age; at least that’s what your elders tell you. In the tribe Demetae, where Nokken and I lived, we had legends of strange and dangerous magic. Kelpies and spirits, forest seductresses with mind controlling power… The myths varied from place to place, making it so that nobody really believed them; just stories to tell around the village bonfire. My mother was a brave woman. She was not only kind and loving, but she was a force to be reckoned with. She joined the men in battle, like did the other women of our time. We lived where sexism had never been introduced and often the women were more fearsome than the men, and of course much prettier.” She adds with a wink. “We lived in a small farmin’ tribe; Demetae. I told you that already. We were free to come and go between the tribes, but unless we married out of our clan, or became an apprentice for an artisan, a bard, a druid priest, or a warrior we had no reason to venture very far from our homesteads. One day, while father was out fishing with my uncle and mother and aunt were gatherin’ ripe fruit, they left me home to watch the children. We were all very close-knit. Nokken and me were the eldest still at home, and we were on the brink of courtin’ age. Our older brothers and sisters had long since been married, the three of them. Mindin’ my own business at the loom I was, when the six little young’uns come bargin’ in, knockin’ o’er tables an’ all. Then in rushes Nokken, chasin’ the wee children, makin’ monstrous noises. They were all laughin’ an’ screamin’ and havin’ a lot of fun. Then says nokken, ‘I be takin’ the babies down to the lake for a dip. They been beggin’ me all day.’
“‘Oh, no you’re not,’ says I, ‘Mum an’ Aunty are always tellin’ you, you can’t go down there when nobody’s around to watch ya.’ O’ course he didn’t listen, the troublemaker he is. He took those babies down without a second thought. I stayed home and worked my loom, knowin’ he’d be the one to get in trouble, not I. I knew he’d take care of the babies; it was him I worried about, he was always gettin’ himself into trouble. I worked my loom all day. I was so focused on it that I didn’t notice anything else ‘til the blanket was done. By then it was gettin’ rather dark. So, I went out to look for ‘em. I was a few yards outside the roundhouse when the children came runnin’ around the storehouse. I was so relieved I didn’t at first notice; Nokken wasn’t there.”
She pauses to get her breath and I wait patiently and quietly for the rest of the story. “I asked ‘em where he was, an’ little Agata burst into tears. They all followed suit soon after. I lead ‘em inside, the soakin’ wet babies, an’ got ‘em warmed up on their mats all covered in blankets. Then I take Uaine aside an’ ask him where Nokken is. He was oldest of the little ones. A tear streaks down his face. ‘Swept away by the current most like, it was strong today. One second he’s there, I look back an’ he’s not. So I brought the babies home, I did, so nobody else got lost.’ says Uaine to me. I looked at the children, traumatized and soakin’ wet on their mats.
“When Mum and ‘em got home it was well into the night. All the babies were asleep, so I told ‘em what had happened. They all knew there was no point in goin’ out to look, it was too dark even for torches, so they all lay down an’ went to sleep. Not I, I knew Nokken was to clever to let himself be drowned, an’ he would need help findin’ his way home. So I wrapped me-self in a shawl, lit me a torch, and set out for the lake. Down the path out of the homestead and over the little stone wall, and straight down to the lake bed I went. There I was met by an odd green glow. I walked out further into the water to see what it was, only to see the face of my cousin with his eyes replaced by glowin’ green orbs. I ran away from there as fast as I could. Never in my short life had I seen anything so disturbin’ as that night. He called out to me, but I kept running. I tripped and my torch burned out, but I still ran, not even sure where I was going. In a wild panic, I caught my foot on a tree root, fell, and hit my head on a rock, knocking me unconscious.”
She stops again, but this time she seems to be waiting for me to say something. “What happened when you woke up?” I ask her.
“I didn’t, not right away.” she replies, “I went somewhere. Somewhere big and empty. The only other thing there besides me was a beautiful winged person. She told me that I had a choice. Cernnunos, the God of all things who connects earth, sea, and sky, sent her as a messenger to me. He said, ‘You may choose the form of any animal you wish and take it as your own.You may even choose to shift forms. Or you can become like me, an angel soldier of Cernnunos.’ She said it was odd that me and my cousin should both die on the same night, and she told me what choice he’d made. She said I’d be given powers, and some of Cernnunos’s territory to take care of. So I chose to become what I am now. But with the shape came an even harder choice.”
“What choice?” I ask, bewildered.
“The choice to live forever. She said Nokken had chosen to live forever, too. She’d given him control of the water he’d died in and special powers related to it. She also gave him several forms. Then she gave me the forest I’d died in and powers related to it. I also have several forms. Now I am this way, forever.” She explains.
“But why would you chose to live forever and never go to heaven?” I ask, mortified.
“We will go to heaven. We are like angels, but with a different job. Cernunnos is just another name for Zeus, Jesus, the King God.” She pulls a bible from under one of the mats. “In revelations, it says after a certain amount of time, the world will end. Then there will be chaos, and then there will be a new heaven and a new Earth. And after that, everyone will be delivered from hell. Well, God lets you choose what you will be for eternity. Most people choose angel, but Nokken and I wanted to be here.” She tells me. “And Nokken is happy the way he is.”
For a moment, I say nothing, but then I have another question. “How did you get here?”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I mean, if you and Nokken are from Demetae, how did you get to America?” I explain.
“Oh. When people started migrating to this new free land, I thought it sounded pretty good after so long being stuck where all those bad memories are for so long. Not to mention some people had seen us in that time; given us legends. We both had a history there that we wanted to put behind us, so I talked Nokken into going. Neither of us can leave our energy sources for long, so we brought pieces of our homes with us. They weren’t enough, and we were so weakened out getting here, but once we did we were easily able to find new energy sources. Nokken is much happier now that he’s left his red lilies behind.”
“What?” I ask.
“When Nokken died, he left behind somebody special to him. Gwendolyn was her name. She was beautiful. They were good friends, but Nokken never found out if she loved him or not. He certainly loved her. One day, her father was out fishing on Nokken’s lake. Nokken knew he was having trouble keeping his family fed, so Nokken decided he could reveal himself. He told the man that he loved Gwendolyn, and that he would help the man catch fish in his lake if he could have Gwendolyn for his wife on her eighteenth birthday. Desperate, the father said yes. On Gwendolyn’s eighteenth birthday she came down to the water wearing a flowing white dress. Nokken was delighted that she’d come. They talked pleasantly for some time, until Nokken asked Gwendolyn to swim with him. She had heard rumors about him and was convinced that he was no longer the boy she had known. In fear, she pulled a dagger from the fold of her gown and pluged it through her heart. Then she bled to death in Nokken’s arms, all the while crying in fear of him. The blood flowed into the water, washed over the water lilies, and stained them red. Nokken was so haunted by it that he turned the waterlilies permanently red in her honor. He still has them here, too, so that he never forgets his folly.” She tells me.
“That’s so horrible.” I say, not really knowing what else there is to say.
“It’s not as bad as being called a demon seductress for all eternity.” She says rather angrily.
“I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding,” I say soothingly.
“It wasn’t!” She protests. “He came to hunt me; the strange woman livin’ in the wood. But when he found me, he told me he loved me, and that he’d changed his mind. He said I wasn’t any threat and that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me, and I believed him. What a fool I was. I took him to my den so that he’d have a dry place to sleep, but sleep wasn’t what he was really after. We… you know.” she blushes. “I fell asleep bare in his arms, and when I awoke he was gone. He took with him the tale of a demon seductress livin’ in a cave near the lake. Nine months later, he was brought back to me in the form of a baby; Claudia. I loved her from the moment I saw her. From her innocent eyes to her wee little toes. She was a year old when her father again returned, this time in person. With him were other men here to hunt the demon seductress and her spawn. They never found Claudia, for she was with Nokken making daisy chains in the meadow. I slaughtered her father and those who sought to harm her. I thought I’d have Claudia forever, but she’d inherited more than her looks from the filthy man who gave her to me. She had inherited his mortality.”
She stops, and I am speechless. Nobody should have to live forever. Nobody should have to live alone without their daughter. This is all wrong, and it’s needs to be put right. I get up and walk around the fire to hug her spontaneously. I know it won’t solve anything, but it’s just the right thing to do. She hugs me tightly back.
“You’ll see her again someday. After all of what you said happens. You can be together.” I say sincerely, “Thank you for telling me all that. You helped me a lot.”
“You’re welcome, it felt good to finally tell somebody who understands what it is to be human.” She says.
“You’re are still human, though, right?” I ask, puzzled. She shakes her head.
“No. When Nokken and I gained our powers, we also gained eternal life. Just so long as we cling to a power source, that is. We also were changed genetically. Nokken has… his eyes and gills. And I have my lion tail and…” She trails off and her eyes drift to the dancing, flickering firelight. I see the sunrise orange reflection dance in her blue eyes, too.
“And what?” I press, feeling bad for asking, but I’m too curious to resist. In answer, she unlaces her corset and turns around. Then she she slips her dress down to reveal her back. I expect to see smooth, pale skin, fair and flawless like the rest of her. What I do see is quite different. Hard, rough tree bark covers her entire spine, fanning out to curve around her whole back. It transitions flawlessly into her human skin, just below her neck. I gasp, before I can stop myself, and reach out to touch it. I need to see that it’s real. The rough bark massages my skin as I slide my hand over it.
“Whoa,” is all I can manage to say.
“I know, it’s awful.” She says in a voice lathered in shame.
“No! It’s... enchanting and unique! You’re lucky to have something like this, I’ve always wanted something like that.” I assure her.
“The grass is always greener on the other side…” Huldra mutters.
“I guess you’re right…” I say, relenting. “So, what do I do now? Now that I know, I mean. I think I made Nokken hate me and…”
“He’s just a wee bit moody, is all. Being isolated all these years... he has very poor social skills. I brought you here to speak with you about him. You see, he has only ever taken to liking a few humans since we became this way. He gets rather lonely. I made friends with the nymphs and other forest things, but he doesn’t much care for them, or leave the water much for that matter. After he was exposed, people avoided his lakes. A few people had drowned in them and he was blamed for it, even though he had warned them not to come in the water and tried to help them. After the Gwendolyn incidence, he stopped trying all together. He avoided humans for a long time. He became distant even from me. Now that I think about it, you are the first human he’s even looked at since Gwendolyn.” She explains.
“So… You think I scared him off?” I ask.
“No, I meant the very opposite. I think you have a good chance of befriendin’ him. I never got the chance to speak to Gwendolyn this way, but maybe if I had she wouldn’t have died.” She says sadly.
“It’s not your fault, though. What she did was her choice. It was very brave, and sad that it was unnecessary.” I console her.
“Oh, I know that, believe me. I know that. I just wish it hadn’t been so. If I could go back and change it I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d change everythin’ startin’ with lettin’ Nokken go to the lake that day.”
There doesn’t seem to be anything left to say, so I just watch the fire. I like the way the flame swishes back and forth with the breeze through the cave, and seems to dance like a spirit on the wind.”
When it becomes clear to Huldra that I am not going to reply, she asks, “Well, are you not going to try again with Nokken?”