“Same here,” the old man said. “As you can see, I tell stories for a living, that’s all I’m able to do. And I’m always looking for good tales. Tell me where you’ve come from and what you’re doing here. Tell me how you lost your parents too. I’m interested because I lost mine many years ago.”
Amos felt that he could trust Junos. There was something youthful and sparkling in the old man’s eyes. Except for the old lady in white he had met at the fountain in the neighboring village, Amos had not spoken to anyone in several days. He was happy to find such a likeable person to talk to.
Before he began his story, Amos told the old man that he might not believe everything he was going to hear, yet he swore that it was the pure truth. While savoring the good food that his host offered him, Amos talked about the realm of Omain, about his conversation with the mermaid at the bay of caverns and the task she had entrusted him with. Amos also told him how he had duped Lord Edonf. The young traveler related the events of Bratel-la-Grande and mentioned Barthelemy, now a stone statue like everybody else. Then he described his encounter with Beorf, Yaune the Purifier’s game of truth, the blind cat, the druid who had a mushroom growing from his neck, the gorgons, and the book that he had found in Beorf’s father’s secret library. He told the story of the pendant that he had left with Beorf so that it would not fall into the hands of the gorgons, then he related his departure from Bratel-la-Grande. He expressed his regret at having left his friend behind. He also mentioned what he had learned about the dreadful basilisk.
Amos told Junos everything. But all of it seemed strangely far away now, as if it had happened years ago. By the time he ended his story, night was falling. He and Junos had been talking for more than three hours. Puzzled by this incredible tale, the old man had asked many questions, wanting details about this and that.
“It is a very nice story and I believe every word,” Junos said when Amos finished. “Now I’m going to tell you one about the woods of Tarkasis. I hope that you will believe me too. I stopped telling this story several years ago, because everyone thought I was mad. So I decided to conceal the truth and just tell these little made-up stories that children like and that make grown-ups smile. Do you want to hear the story of a great misfortune?”
Happy to be with such an interesting person, Amos was more than willing. “I’m listening, and be assured that I’m ready to believe what you tell me,” Amos said.
“Many long years ago,” began the old man, “near the woods of Tarkasis, there lived a little boy. He had beautiful dark, curly hair, the big smile of a happy child, an overflowing imagination, and a magnificent dog. He loved this dog more than anything else. His father was a farmer and his mother made the best pancakes in the realm. His parents always told him not to go to the woods. Apparently, there were malevolent forces that made those who dared to venture there disappear. One day the boy’s dog was lost, and the boy heard it bark in the forest. He thought that it was in danger and so he entered the forest without taking his parents’ warning into account. He walked for a long time. The trees had strange shapes. There were flowers everywhere. It was the most beautiful forest he had ever seen.
“Out of nowhere, a light came out of a flower and started to spin around him. Only many years later did the young boy understand that he had entered the realm of fairies. More lights came to join the first one, and marvelous music started. Imprisoned in a circle of fairies, the child danced and danced and danced with the lights until he dropped to the ground. He fell into a deep sleep under a tree.
“When he woke up, he was fifty years older. His hair had turned white and he had a long beard. He made his way home but the house was no longer here. There was a road now where his father’s large garden used to be. His parents, his dog, his house had disappeared.
“He walked on the road and reached a town named Berrion. It’s the town we’re in today. Totally helpless, he told his story to passersby, claiming that his childhood had been stolen from him. No one wanted to listen to him, and for a long time people thought that he was crazy. Finally, and with difficulty, he accepted his old age and began to tell stories to make a living. This child is still alive and is called Junos, like all the characters of my tales. It is Junos who is talking to you now. It’s my own story that I just told you. Could you be the first person to believe me at last?”
Flabbergasted, Amos remembered having heard this story before. It was the one his father had told him when they were leaving the realm of Omain. Urban claimed to have met this man years ago during his travels with Frilla.
Amos looked at the big tears that ran down the old man’s cheeks.
“I believe your story and I make a solemn promise to give you back the childhood that you’ve searched for all this time,” he said. “Take me to the woods of Tarkasis and I’ll repair the wrong that was done to you.”
11 THE WOODS OF TARKASIS
Amos spent the night with Junos in the small room the old man rented in a seedy inn. Junos apologized for the lack of comfort that he had to offer his guest. They kept talking for a long while, mostly about fairies, before going to sleep. Junos knew dozens of tales and legends about them.
The old man said that, at the beginning of time, most of the earth had been controlled by the fomors and the firbolgs, who were related to ogres, goblins, and trolls. Later, the fairies arrived from the west; no one knew why or how, probably carried by the ocean wind. They fought the goblins, then the trolls, and finally managed to weaken the ogres enough to force them into exile. These migrated north, to the land of barbarians and ice.
Then, from the east, men arrived. They were powerful warriors, riding big, beautiful horses. They took possession of the land, tilled it and forced the fairies to take refuge in the forest. Some of the fairies befriended the men, but most stayed in the woods and remained isolated. They found several ways to avoid being disturbed by humans. Their kingdoms were secret and often not accessible. They maintained a strict social hierarchy. Like the bees, the fairies had a queen, workers, and warriors.
However, some men worked together with the creatures of the forest. They were called druids. Their task was to protect nature, especially the animals and the forests-the realms of fairies. It was the fairies that decided which humans were capable of becoming druids. They stole babies from their cribs and replaced them with pieces of magic wood that took the shape of the real infants. Parents never suspected anything. These substitute babies seemed quite normal until they died suddenly, for no apparent reason.
Even today, there is a custom that villagers follow. Although most of them do not believe in supernatural beings, they suspend a pair of open scissors above their children’s beds for protection. Since fairies move quickly in the air, the blades will cut them if they try to come close to a crib. Small bells are attached to the clothing of newborn babies, as well as red ribbons and colorful and cumbersome garlands. The jingle of the bells is meant to warn parents if fairies ever try to kidnap a baby. The ribbons and garlands are supposed to hamper their flight.
Amos asked Junos if he knew anything about the tradition of mask wearers. The old man answered that he had heard about a man who had vanquished a dragon all on his own. The man was nicknamed “the bearer,” but the legend did not say anything else.
Worn out, Amos finally fell asleep on the old straw mattress that Junos had placed on the floor. He dreamed of the woman who had given him the rolls and the eggs at the fountain. In his dream, she had become young but still wore her white robe. She kept repeating the same thing to him, “Drive your trident into the stone and open the passage… Drive your trident into the stone and open the passage…”