in peace. Now, however, the evil plaguing your own world is making its way into ours.
“The dwarves first alerted us to it. They heard them in the deep recesses of the mountain, digging, coming in from goodness knows where. The dwarves, crafty as they are and even knowing the mountain as well as they do, cannot tell where they are or if they have come out. Your dreams tell us one thing, however, they are coming and they will bring destruction with them when they do.”
Alfred sat in rapt attention. “Who is coming?” he asked, breaking the ominous silence.
“Goblins.”
“I’m sorry. Did you just say goblins?”
“Yes, my son, goblins. Some of the fierce stand most wicked creatures ever to cross the face of the earth.”
“What are they? I mean, I remember reading about them in books, but they’re usually small mischievous little creatures, lesser demons or imps, awful for sure, but not this menacing.”
“Yes, well did your books tell you that mushrooms were cared for by gnomes?”
“No.”
“Then I would not use them as your guide through Elfland. That’s what I’m for.”
“Wait, what do you mean? Mr. Cyning, what does he mean, he’s my guide through Elfland? If there are goblins in there and they’re as bad as you say, shouldn’t I stay out of it altogether?”
Mr. Cyning sighed heavily. Alfred in looking at him began to realize how very old, even careworn, the eccentric old man of Carlisle was. It was as if he was looking at him for the first time and rather than an old man, it was a wizard, a sage, druid bard sitting next to him. “Alfred,” he began slowly, “Carlisle sits in a perilous place. While Faërie may be all around us and everywhere, there are some places closer to it than others. As I told you, you are quite lucky, having grown up on the edge of Elfland and being given a glimpse. A glimpse, however, is not all you’ve been destined for.
“Carlisle, because of its proximity to the major home for elves and dwarves, the elf kingdom and the lesser dwarf kingdom have their thrones in Fey Forest, has often known great beauty and wonder. Alas, it is also known more grief and woe.”
“And caused more as well,” said Balthazar quietly.
“Too true,” replied Mr. Cyning. “Alfred, trouble has often come from Elfland and attacked Carlisle, trying to find entrance into the world of men and overthrow it. The goblins especially hate humanity. Do you remember the story I told you about St. Nicholas’s?”
“Only a little. Didn’t you say something about goblins then?”
“Indeed I did. They tried to burn down the church on Christmas Eve over a thousand years ago. They were beaten back by the villagers, with the help of the faeries, and the flames around the church were extinguished.”
“Why did they want to burn down the church?”
“Suffice it to say that they hate humanity and wanted to do them harm. The whole village was inside at the time, as was the custom, and they thought to bring the whole town to ruin. From there they could have spread into the rest of the human world.”
“Why do they hate us so much? And why do they have enter our world through Carlisle?”
“Those are complicated questions. Balthazar, would you mind answering the boy?”
“My pleasure. You see Alfred, goblins were not always goblins. Some say they are men mixed with elves who have gone bad. Others that they were elves once, but they turned their backs on their own. Still others say they were dwarves who lost themselves in the mines they worked for the elves and when they finally emerged it was with a burning hatred of the elves. Whatever the truth is, they were not always evil and they did not always look as they do now. The reason they hate humanity is because the Elfin King and Queen protect you. It is because of them that goblins and other wicked creatures cannot come into your world unless your civilisation is physically close to our own. Because humans have moved away from the forests and the wilds of the world, even from the beginning, this happens rarely, but there are still pockets. In most places there is still silence, in some evil has won out, but here in Carlisle there is ever a tension. The greater and lesser kingdoms being here means both a greater chance of mutual benefit and a greater chance of mutual harm.”
“So where do I fit in to all of this?”
Balthazar and Mr. Cyning looked to each other and then both turned to look at Alfred. Mr. Cyning spoke first, “Faërie is always better when connected to humanity. The separation between the two is unnatural. When evil like this comes forward is important for Faërie to find a human with the second sight to help. What your proper role will be, cannot yet be told. This is why Balthazar is to be your guide. Whatever part you are called to play, it will be a great one, lad, I can promise you that.”
“Come along, my son,” Balthazar said to Alfred.
“Wait, I’m leaving now? What about my family?” Alfred exclaimed.
“There’s no time, boy. The goblins will come and attack the village. If you don’t go into Faërie now, there may be no Carlisle to return to. I know its hard. I had hoped to better prepare you myself, but there we are. Alfred, the goblins are ruthless, their king hates humanity more than most. He comes from a long-lived goblin line and was part of the attack against the village when they tried to burn St. Nicholas’s. He will stop at nothing. He’s been biding his time far in the North, for they were banished from England for a thousand years, all that time to foment and plan for his revenge. A young villager caved in part of his face with a mattock, and since then he has vowed revenge against humanity for the loss of his eye, not to mention a fair few of his teeth. He will have trained his goblins to be ferocious, cruel, loving to give pain. You must go, and now.”
Alfred remembered the music from his dream, he thought of how much he loved his parents, his village. He was confused, about so many things, but one thing was certain, he trusted Mr. Cyning, everything he read about Faërie, all of it incidental, taught him to discern good from evil. He knew evil must be fought, even in the face of defeat, which he hoped it would not come to. Without realising it, he found himself resolved to do whatever he could. He could think of nothing that made him special, that made him worthy, but this too he knew so often essential in fairy tales. It was not about him, but what needed to be done.
“Alright,” he said at last, “I’ll do it. Lead me where you will Balthazar.”
“Into the forest then, my son.”
“Good luck, Alfred,” called Mr. Cyning. “The hopes of Faërie and England rest with you.”
Alfred looked changed, as if the air of Elfland had already begun to flow in him. His walk became more determined, less that of a listless twenty-something, as he entered the forest, being guided by the small gnome, not knowing what his fate would bring him.
Chapter 5
As Alfred and Balthazar ventured deeper into the wood, Alfred noticed a change. The air seemed richer, more fulfilling, the colors seemed more vibrant. “That’s the air of Elfland you’re breathing in, my son,” Balthazar said without turning around, as if he
