Quick hello! I have a poll for you at the end.
Eidothea is introduced to Llyr’s mother and sister and learns more about her mother. Birthmarks trigger her visions and she accidentally bumps Llyr’s birthmark. Ceridwy, Llyr’s mother realises that if Eidothea is the prophet, then Llyr is the king of the Chosen Court. They make plans to visit Maeve, the previous prophet.
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:We will go in the morning,: Llyr decided. :It’s been a long day for us both and we must be fresh to travel the deeps.:
Ceridwy nodded at her son’s wisdom and showed me to a bedchamber. I marvelled at how much light the room held, the calcified, smooth walls glowing.
Llyr lingered. :This is as new to me as it is to you. I never expected…:
I steadied myself with a deep breath. :So much is new to me, being a draig môr, being a prophet, finding myself in an entirely new environment and society.: I ran out of breath, feeling my panic rise.
He crossed to me, extending a hand. I took it. He squeezed my fingers. :I am here with you. I will always be at your side.: He embraced me one-armed, his hand resting in the small of my back. :We will get through this together. Our fates are tied, it seems.:
I pressed my forehead against his shoulder. Yes, at least I was not alone in this strange watery kingdom. Llyr drew away and kissed my forehead.
:We have been through so much these past few days.: I gazed up at him. My fingers curled in his robe. :I do not know where I would be if not for you.:
:Still thrashing about in the bay, I expect.: Llyr flashed a wide grin, exchanging his serious expression for boyish mischief.
:And you would still be washed up on my beach,: I retorted. :How are your wounds? I saw no sign of them earlier.:
:Once on the path of healing, dreigiau môr mend quickly. Ondine helped as well. You saved my life, Eidothea.:
:Have I?: I mused. :Has my vision changed it for the better or the worse?:
:It is just changed.: Llyr smoothed my hair over my shoulder. :There is no good or bad to it.: He stepped back. :Rest now before our evening meal.:
It was half on my mind to ask him to stay with me but that sounded terribly forward and inappropriate. I had picked up that from Ceridwy’s initial disapproval of us as a couple. I gave a weak nod, knowing it unlikely that my racing mind would allow me to rest.
The evening meal was brought to my room and breakfast also. It felt like I was being hidden, or perhaps Ondine had been too persistent in her questions. Llyr arrived soon after and we set off, passing back through the city gate and assuming our dreigiau môr form.
Once Caer Morgana was behind us, we descended. The deeper we went, the more the colour bleached out from our surroundings. Llyr and I each carried a bioluminescent sphere, which dangled from the end of a long pole, adding to the light generated by our bodies. The sea remained oppressive and gloomy.
I followed Llyr, trusting him. Something had changed in our relationship in the few hours I had been in Caer Morgana. Despite our childhood friendship, he was still a stranger. Even if we had seen more of each other than decency would deem proper. With me as the new dreigiau môr prophet and he soon to be their king, we seemed bound together.
The inky water pressed in around us, the pressure creating a hum in my ears. We slowed our descent to adjust to it.
:Why is she so far away?: I barely made out Llyr’s form in the dark. His scales glistened around his crested head. The rest of him faded into darkness until my own light caught the swish of his long tail.
Llyr returned the mental equivalent of a shrug. :Maeve is more myth than reality—:
:—we are dreigiau môr,: I interrupted. :That is a bit like the pot calling the kettle black.:
He ignored me. :She sequestered herself down here generations ago. When a draig môr reaches adulthood, we each make the journey to her to pay our respects. You will do that today too.:
We swam on. In the distance a cool bubble of light appeared. Ominous shadows floated within. Once I saw the dome, I could not see anything else in the darkness.
Llyr must have sensed my fascination. :This is Maeve’s home.:
We passed through the bubble’s membrane but we remained in dreigiau môr form.
:Our human bodies would be crushed by the weight of the water here.:
We glided through a seaweed forest, green-black fronds fringed with iridescent purple. They glittered with tiny light bubbles clinging to the leaves.
We came to a rocky outcrop. It felt like a mountaintop, the rocks falling sharply away on all sides but one, which was the path we followed. A pitch black opening in the rocks loomed in front of us.
Llyr paused and a bell like sound rang in my mind.
:Who’s there?: The voice grated like a thousand waves crashing over tidal pools. :I was not expecting visitors.:
Llyr’s gentle laugh calmed my nerves, :Come now, Grandmother. I have brought you a newly found member of our tribe — and she’s a prophet.:
I would have said it was impossible to see darkness move and yet our small light spheres picked up the silvery susurration of scales. An enormous head appeared in the cave’s opening, several times our size.
:Newly found?: Maeve’s dark grey reptilian gaze fastened on me. I wanted to be still, except I had not yet quite mastered all the subtleties of my new body. :Why she is Berlewen’s daughter. She has her like.:
:Yes, that is my mother’s name.:
Maeve tilted her head. :Is she well?:
I glanced down. :She passed when I was young.:
Maeve’s nostrils flared and tightened. :And how are you here? You cannot survive these depths being part human.:
I wondered how she knew my history. :My father told me that Mother gave me part of her energy when I was little and very ill.:
:Ah, she did it then.: Maeve muttered. Louder, she added, :Half. Not part of her grym bywyd, child. Fully half.:
Half?! Would Mother have lived if she had kept more of her dreigiau môr essence for herself?
:What is your name?:
:Eidothea Pendyr.: I looked for Llyr, who had drifted off to give us seeming privacy. I had included him in my responses.
Maeve called him back. :Why have you brought her here?:
:It is her rite of passage.: Llyr’s features remained impassive.
:That is usually completed alone.:
:It is possible she is the next prophet. We haven’t had one since … well, since you.:
Maeve regarded me. I felt the weight of her gaze could crush me if I let it. I was not going to allow that and stared evenly back at her.
:The prophet? Impossible.: Maeve loomed closer. :Do you know what we do with false prophets?: She bared her fangs.
Quick reminder that we have a Glossary and that in the short story posted this week, we met Maeve in her younger days.
Polling time.
Wanting to get your feedback on whether I should increase the release of instalments from once a week to twice a week. The rare weeks that there is a story from The Red Book of Rhiannon, it will take place of one of the instalments. The increased frequency may mean a greater likelihood of a longer hiatus between where we leave off at the end of Eidothea’s diary and where we pick up. I can only transcribe so fast. Also not sure if you need to log in to the app to respond to the vote or do it within your email. Please email me your response if you need to.
Thoughts about today’s instalment? Comments? Share below or join the read along in the Chat!
What a cliffhanger!
Oh please— two per week !! 🥰