BETWEEN THE WORLDS

                                                        1

There were once two sisters who knew the way to travel between the worlds.

They lived on an island with forests and tall mountains. Their cottage was small, and all they knew was each other, and the beasts and birds of the island, and those they met when they travelled between the worlds.

Their names, or, at least, their names as the world remembers them now, were Golden Braids and Night Locks. Golden Braids was the eldest. She was the daughter of the sun, they said, as she rose with the dawn and sang until night fell. She knew everything about flowers and healing herbs and could speak the language of foxes and larks. There was not a day when she did not smile.

Night Locks was different. Dark, as her sister was fair, she moved quietly and stealthily, preferring the cool shadows to the glaring warmth of the sun. Her songs were night songs, her dances the flight of fireflies after dusk. She was a friend of the little people, of imp and elf and mischievous pixie. She did not smile as often as Golden Braids.

Every week, the sisters would choose a world and have many adventures there. They went to the World of Birds, with cities built high up in trees. They saved the Queen of Nightingales from a hunter, and the Queen named them both faithful councilors, and gave each sister a feather from her wings to use when their need was greatest and one fruit from the most bountiful tree.

They went to the World of Trees where the sky was green. They saw oak trees and poplar trees, and trees for which they had no names. They picked fruit that tasted far sweeter than the fruit they had in their own forests.

A few times, they went to the World of Stone. But the Black Prince that lived there was struck by Golden Braids’ beauty, and he kidnapped her and imprisoned her in a tall tower with gigantic pillars of stone guarding the entrance. Night Locks went on a perilous journey and faced darkness and hardship and near death until she was finally able to rescue Golden Braids. They never went to the World of Stone after that.

A few times, they went to the World of Stone

In the World of Ice, Night Locks fell in love with one of the frozen spirits. They danced together in the wintry glades as snowflakes fell around them, offering Night Locks the perfect wedding dress. But the frozen spirit was killed by the envious Snow Queen, and Night Locks returned to her cottage and lay there for two weeks while Golden Braids took care of her. After two weeks, Night Locks finally left her sick bed and solemnly thanked Golden Braids for remaining by her side. She never mentioned the frozen spirit or the World of Ice again.

The sisters travelled to many worlds for many years and were content with their lives and enriched by their journeys. Then came that one rainy morning that was to change everything.

                                   ###

One day, Golden Braids was walking through the forest when she heard someone crying. She froze. The voice did not belong to Night Locks. People rarely came to the sisters’ island, except sometimes for trade, and Golden Braids had always been wary of strangers. Still, she had never ignored someone’s despair before, and the voice sounded as if it held the suffering of entire lifetimes in its sobs. She ignored her fears and followed the sound.

Golden Braids finally reached a clearing and spotted a young man sitting on a boulder, crying his heart out. He was well-dressed, but his rich clothes were weather-beaten and torn, and his face was lean and grey with weariness. He must have travelled a long way to get there.

“Why are you crying, young man?” Golden Braids asked, approaching him.

The young stranger stood up gasping, startled by the sudden human voice in a place he had thought deserted. He looked at Golden Braids as if he was not sure she was real, as if he was expecting her to turn into a wraith and suck up his soul. But she kept smiling kindly at him, and it had been a long time since he was met with kindness. The words tumbled out of him almost against his will.

“They say I am my kingdom’s last hope. But I fear the only thing I can bring home is even more despair.”

Golden Braids moved to sit next to him.

“How so?”

"I am the eldest son of a king,” the young man told her. “A good and just king who takes care of his people and protects his realm. But his brother has designs on the throne. He allied himself with a witch who cursed the king and the rest of the family. I escaped only because I was not in the palace at the time and the curse could not reach me. Now my parents and my sisters are dying, and the realm is about to fall into the hands of a dreadful tyrant. I was sent to find a cure – but I have traveled for so long. I now know only the harsh empty roads. And I have found nothing. There is no cure.”

Golden Braids watched the young prince as he sat there, his head bowed, his hands shaking, and thought that he did not deserve to look so sad. He should have been back in his land, riding proudly towards his palace, head held high, the world in his hands. She laid her hand gently on the young man’s shoulder.

“Wipe your tears and get some rest. I will come back tomorrow morning, and then you will have your cure.”

The young man spluttered, not sure if he should believe this stranger, who seemed so eager to offer him hope. But he would have clutched at anything in his state. He nodded.

Golden Braids left the clearing. She went to the World of Spells. There, she bargained the entire night with the Empress of Witches. When she returned, she had with her a vial that burned hot in her hand.

“This spell will cure any curse,” she told the prince. “Go back to your home and save your family.”

The young man left that very day. Golden Braids never saw him again – but she knew he had succeeded in breaking the curse. What followed showed that clearly enough.

                              2

Night Locks did not really agree with Golden Braid’ gesture. She did not blame her sister for helping the young prince – one always had to give comfort to those in need of it – but she was afraid. Their world often came with its own dangers. People were unpredictable, and some took what they wanted without pausing to think that others might have laid a claim on it first. Something as big as the means to travel between worlds was bound to attract attention. And not all of it would be good.

“But he doesn’t know the spell came from another world,” Golden Braids pointed out reasonably. “You worry too much, Night Locks. Surely one good deed cannot cause us any harm. And if it did – it would be worth it. It saved lives, Night Locks. No secret is worth someone else’s life.”

                 3

The next time, it was Night Locks who used the path between the worlds to help someone. She did not think twice about the consequences and later thought just like Golden Braids: if you had the power to help, you could not refuse to use it.

That day, Night Locks had gone further than usual, close to the southern edge of the island. Ships sometimes passed that place, although not many stopped. Most thought the island was deserted. Others were afraid of the whispers they heard of someone living there, fairies, perhaps, or witches who sang unearthly songs and lured people away to suck out their souls under an ancient willow tree. Only a few knew about the two sisters, and sometimes they came and traded with them. Night Locks had healing herbs and potions she could give them, and they offered her clothing and food before the winter.

That afternoon, Night Locks was waiting for one of the regular ships. She had arranged her potions in rows by the shore and knelt next to them. Usually, the interactions between her and the traders were brief and terse. Night Locks knew that they, too, were afraid of her and her sister, even though they probably did not believe the two were fairies. But they were two women who lived alone, removed from the company of others, and it was hard to imagine anyone would choose to live that way unless they hid some dark secret.

“I have some good wool here,” one of the traders told Night Locks. “Good to keep you warm in the winter months. It will probably be my last sell, too.”

“Why?” Night Locks asked. “Aren’t you satisfied with what you’re getting in return?”

The trader blushed.

“My sweet lady, your potions kept my children healthy last winter, while the rest of the settlement languished with some unknown fever. It pains me to give them up.”

“Why are you giving them up, then?”

The trader hesitated briefly, then shrugged. People did not need much prompting when asked to talk about their troubles.

“It’s been a harsh year. A strange wind blew from the west, and my plants died. The grass too. Now, I don’t have with what to feed my sheep. I’ll have to move.”

Night Locks hesitated. They did not really need the trading, as she and Golden Braids could get many things from other worlds. Still, she looked at the trader who had always treated her fairly, even though he was afraid of her.

“Come here next week,” she told him. “I might have something that will help your land.”

The trader gaped at her, a suspicious gleam in his eyes. He made as if to ask something, then changed his mind and simply shrugged. When he walked back to his ship, Night Locks was sure he did not believe she would be able to do anything for him.

Night Locks went to the World of Seeds. Anyone who went to the World of Seeds was welcome to the bounty there. All they had to do was leave something they had of value behind. Night Locks left a ring given to her by her dead lover, the ice spirit. In exchange, she took four seeds.

“Plant these seeds in the four corners of your land,” she told the trader when she met him again. “They will grow quicker than other plants can grow, and they will scatter their seeds that will grow just as fast. Within three months, you will have a garden and pastures and you will be able to feed both your family and your animals.”

The trader bowed low and kissed Night Locks’ hand, but when he left, he kept casting furtive glances behind, as if expecting Night Locks to turn into a gigantic bird of prey and carry him to her lair.

                 4.

The trader went home and planted the four seeds, and, in no time, they grew and made seeds of their own, which also grew overnight. Before winter was over, the trader had a rich orchard and a green pasture that would not wither even in the colder seasons. For a long time, the trader and his family lived a comfortable, wealthy life, and people from every corner of the world came to see the wonder that was his land.

News reached the ears of a neighboring duke, who thought such marvels had to be his by right and sent his armies to conquer the land. But they failed as the plants knew also how to defend their rightful owners and did not allow just anyone to lay claim on them. But that is a tale for another time.

                      5.

Now that the sisters had used the way between the worlds to help others, they had drawn attention to themselves. Still, for months, they continued to live on unbothered, without anyone coming to see who they were or what they were doing. And they continued to travel to other worlds for their own pleasure.

Then, one day, an ancient scholar came to their island. He was an old man, tired and close to death. He had searched many years, he told the sisters, for the place that hid the most important secret in the universe, the place that held the most magic. And now he had found it.

“This place has magic for us, yes,” Night Locks admitted. “But home should always hold some magic for us, otherwise it is not really home, is it? As for what you are looking for…”

“I am not looking for a home,” the scholar said quickly. “I am looking for a great secret. And, between the three of us, I think this place holds such a secret. Or maybe it isn’t this place. Maybe it is the two of you. Either way, the secret is here. I can feel it. It has called to me since I was but a child. Since before you were born, it wove itself into my mind. And now, here I am. But I cannot seem to be able to pass the guardians.”

Night Locks and Golden Braids exchanged uneasy looks. Golden Braids managed to smile at the scholar and shook her head.

“There are no secrets here, master scholar.”

“None that we wish to share,” Night Locks added tightly. “You are right. We are guardians, and we do not wish to let anyone near what we guard. I am sorry, but you will have to look for your answers elsewhere.”

The scholar’s eyes filled with tears.

“You would deny an old man this little bit of comfort in his dying days?”

Golden Braids frowned. Even Night Locks lowered her eyes. But when she spoke again her tone was sill unwavering.

“There is nothing here for anyone to see, young or old, dying or not.”

“I am sorry,” Golden Braids added. “You can stay with us until you are fit to travel. But no more.”

The scholar gave her a sad smile.

“I am afraid this body will never be fit to travel again, my dear. But my soul might, in a few days. So, if you will not grant me my wish while I am alive, grant it when I am dead and can no longer betray you.”

Night Locks’ features did not soften.

“What wish would that be?”

The old man grasped her hand. Night Locks remained still, while Golden Braids watched on, suddenly terrified by what the scholar had to say.

“I do not wish to be buried here. Instead, take me by the secret path that only you know. Take the way between the worlds and choose a place for me there where I can rest.”

“Why would you want that?” Golden Braids asked while Night Locks made no move to admit that they knew of such a path.

The scholar would no longer look at them. His eyes were fixed somewhere in the distance, as if he could already see the path between the worlds.

“I have looked for this road all my life. I have given all my wealth to learn about it – to find it. I have lost friends and family because of my obsession. My beliefs cost me my reputation. From a learned man I became a fool who took fairy tales too seriously. My whole life was that road. My death should be that road too. There is a symmetry in this, don’t you think?”

The sisters didn’t promise the scholar anything, and he did not ask them, either. They took care of him during his remaining days, and he never mentioned the path between the worlds again.

The scholar died a week after his arrival on the island. Only then did the sisters talk of his request.

“He is dead, after all,” Golden Braids reminded Night Locks. “What harm will it do to anyone if we honored his wish?”

Night Locks gazed down at the pale face of the old scholar. He looked younger in death. As if he had been certain his quest would be coming to an end. As if he had expected the sisters to grant him his last wish and had gone to rest willingly and at peace. What would happen, she wondered, if they were to disappoint him? If they were to simply bury him on the island, or at sea, what would that do? Would the old man’s spirit know? Would he come back to haunt them?

“We did not promise anything,” she argued. “He never made us promise.”

“Because he did not think he needed to make us promise, Night Locks. Because he was probably sure that we of all people would do the right thing. The decent thing, Night Locks.”

Golden Braids walked to her sister and took her hand.

“There is a reason why we are the ones who know of the way between the worlds. We are the only ones who would not abuse it, true. We are the ones who would keep it secret. But this is not keeping a secret, Night Locks. You cannot keep a secret from a dead man. This is guarding your hoard like a greedy dragon, and we are not like that. Are we?”

Night Locks looked away. She thought of the many things only they knew. The things only they could see. Then she thought of the old man, who had dreamed all his life that he would one day see such marvels himself. Night Locks had denied him that wish in life. But she could not deny it to him in death as well. He deserved better. She looked up and smiled at Golden Braids, clutching her hand.

“No, you are right. I know just the place for our old scholar.”

They carried the old man’s body to the World of the Dead. There, they lay the tarp on the cold and ashen ground. The old man opened his eyes and got up. He did not ask where he was. He bowed to the two sisters.

“Thank you, my ladies. You have shown that you are, indeed, worthy of the path between the worlds.”

Night Locks frowned.

“So, what was this? A test?”

The scholar smiled gently.

“This was exactly what it looked like, my dear Night Locks. A gift to an old man who wanted answers to his questions. I have all the answers I came for now.”

He looked out into the distance. Dark shapes could be glimpsed behind withered trees. They were waiting for the sisters to leave, so they could welcome the old man. The dead were always shy in the presence of the living.

“There is only one way I can reward you,” the old man said. “I have nothing to give you but a warning, I am afraid.”

“Warning?” Golden Braids repeated uneasily.

“Be careful who finds out about the way between the worlds. Be vigilant guardians. Otherwise, you will lose all this. The way between the worlds is a fickle path. Use it unwisely and it will hide itself from you when you need it most.”

“You mean stop using the way between worlds to help others?” Golden Braids asked, and there was a faint note of indignation in her voice.

But the scholar shook his head.

“I mean, be careful who you help. Not everyone’s intentions are pure. And if you allowed those unsuitable to learn of the way between the worlds, you would not be very good guardians, would you?”

The old scholar did not wait for the sisters to reply. He turned and walked away towards the waiting shadows. Now he could choose to become young again and start his life anew in the World of the Dead that had more similarities with the world of the living than people can usually imagine. But that is a story for another time.

                                6.

Golden Braids and Night Locks heeded the warnings of the scholar. They still travelled between the worlds, but they were careful where they went and how much time they spent there – and what they did in those worlds. And, since their island was so isolated, no one was the wiser about what they knew. But the two people that Night Locks and Golden Braids had helped had talked to others about the island and the sisters’ wondrous gifts. And, while they had meant no harm in the telling, not all of their listeners had pure intentions.

News spread far and wide about a small island where two sisters lived on their own – two witches, people whispered, because only witches could cure curses or make plants grow in arid ground. They held great power and vast knowledge, so it was claimed, but they were greedy and shared that power with no one. The tale had changed so much in the telling, that people no longer knew or cared that Night Locks and Golden Braids had used what they knew to help others. Most could only focus on how the sisters had something the rest of the world did not. And many could not stand such a thing.

“Who are they to keep such treasures from the rest of us?” a king asked.

He was known as the Dark King, and he had lands and riches and castles that he kept from his people. But the idea of someone doing to him what he did to others infuriated him beyond measure.

“We cannot stand such selfishness, can we?” he asked his ministers. “That island is ours by right, and so is everything on it.”

In truth, the Dark King’s geographers and historians had already informed him the island was in neutral territory. It did not belong to anybody, only to itself, and anything the sisters owned was theirs alone, with no need to be shared with other powers. But people like the Dark King had learned long ago how to bend the rules to their favor and get away with it.

So, the Dark King prepared his armies, ready to invade the island and take what the sisters owned by force. But his advisors warned him that such a plan would be highly unwise.

“Remember, they helped those they encountered,” one of the Councilors said. “If we go there and take what they have by force, your subjects might call you unfair and rise against you.”

The Dark King was ready to say that he could deal with his subjects, but he was afraid word of his talk would reach the masses, and he would lose what little support he still had among his people. In the end, he shrugged.

“Fine. We’ll negotiate with them first.” He paused and smirked. “Then we’ll take what they own by force.”

                                 7

Golden Braids and Night Locks had just returned from the World of Song. They went there every year to take part in the Song of Life and give thanks for being the guardians of the way between the worlds. When they got back, the island seemed changed. The sky was less clear and there was a hint of tension in the air.

“It is too early in the year for storms,” Golden Braids remarked.

“This is not a storm,” Night Locks said frowning. “This is the island rebelling. Something is approaching that is not welcome here.”

Golden Braids went to seek help from her larks and her legions of squirrels and foxes, while Night Locks called forth the nightingales and the eagles and the sure-eyed jaguars.

At first, none of the beasts knew what was happening. They all felt a threat approaching, but they did not know what it was or where it was coming from. Nothing, so far, had threatened the peace of the island. But an unknown shadow loomed on the horizon, ever growing in their minds.

Finally, the Jaguar Guardian and the Wise Fox – who had become fast friends under incredible circumstances, and maybe one day I will tell you that story, too – discovered something troubling and ran to the sisters to report their findings.

“A fleet of war ships approaches the island,” the Jaguar Guardian said abruptly, as he was known for never mincing his words and always getting straight to the point.

“War with whom?” Night Locks protested. “We are the only ones here.”

“And we know of the way to travel between the worlds,” Golden Braids whispered softly.

Night Locks cast her a sharp look, but Golden Braids had her head bowed.

“You were right,” she said. “I should not have helped that prince. I should not have gone to the World of Spells for him.”

Her tone was so distraught that Night Locks’ heart wept for her. She laid a comforting hand on her sister’s arm. The guilt did not belong to Golden Braids alone.

“And I helped that trader in an even more obvious way,” she pointed out. “And we both helped the scholar.”

“Besides,” the Wise Fox added. “They might not know of the way between the worlds. Maybe all they know is that there is something here worth the taking.”

“That does not help us one bit,” Night Locks said tersely.

“The truth never does, my good Night Locks.”

“What do we do, then?" Golden Braids asked. “The way between the worlds is not for everyone and we, as its guardians, have the duty to protect it.”

“Then protect it,” the Jaguar said. “Fight for it.”

“We cannot fight an army, Jaguar Guardian,” Golden Braids pointed out. “We are only two.”

“No, you are not,” the Wise Fox said. “The entire island will fight for the keepers of the way between worlds.”

“You have stood by us for so long,” the Jaguar Guardian added solemnly. “The time has come for us to return the favor. We will all stand by you.”

  8

The great fleet of ships sent an embassy to the island. The Jaguar Guardian and General Eagle, both leaders of the island army, strongly advised the sisters to reject the embassy and trap them. But the Wise Fox and Councilor Owl were against that. It was bad luck, they said, to attack messengers, however misguided. No one would support their cause if such an act was discovered.

In the end, Night Locks and Golden Braids agreed that receiving the embassy and hearing what they had to say was the best thing to do.

“At least they’ll tell us why they’re here,” Night Locks said. “I want to know why people want to start a war on my island.”

The embassy was met by Golden Braids and Night Locks. The Owl and the Eagle hovered above, while the Jaguar and the Fox were hidden in the forest close by, ready to send word to their armies, should anything go wrong.

The Dark King himself was leading the embassy. He had chosen one of his ministers as advisors, and they brought with them an ancient wizard the king usually kept locked up in a tower. The story goes that an ancestor of the Dark King – a good man, who would have turned in his grave had he known the blackness in the heart of his heir – had captured the wizard as he was trying to unleash the powers of storms and ice on an unsuspecting town. Perhaps I’ll tell you the full tale one day. Now though, it is enough to know that the wizard could not die and was bound to serve his captors for five hundred years. The Dark King had made good use of his powers – more than the rest of his family.

The wizard was there to detect any magic that the owners of the island might use against the envoys or to hide their treasure. His mere presence, the Dark King thought, would frighten the sisters into complying. If it did not, his army was standing by. Either way, the Dark King was certain the battle would be short – if you could call it a battle. He had an army, and Night Locks and Golden Braids only had each other. And the Dark King underestimated how powerful that could be.

The Dark King was quite courteous at first. His advisors had reminded him that he could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar and, if he played his cards right, maybe the sisters would agree to share whatever knowledge they had of their own free will. A part of the King hoped they didn’t. There was not much glory to be gained in being given something, he thought. It was better when he took it by force.

“My dear ladies,” he told Night Locks and Golden Braids, smiling genially at each of them in turn. “I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you agreed to talk to me.”

Golden Braids poured wine in their goblets. The wine tasted like witchcraft to the King. He resolved not to drink it, even though that might offend his hosts.

“We are surprised you are here at all, your majesty,” Golden Braids said. “People do not usually visit this island and never in such high numbers.”

“Maybe it’s time they did.”

“Why?” Night Locks demanded and there was a barely hidden trace of belligerence in her voice. “We do not need large groups of people wandering about. We like to keep to ourselves.”

“You also like to keep whatever treasure you possess for yourselves too, no doubt. But this will not do.”

“As ruler of this island,” the minister began, speaking for the first time, “one would argue that his majesty is entitled to anything of value here.”

“There is nothing of value here save the island itself and the creatures living on it,” Golden Braids insisted. “And they do not belong to anyone. They belong only to themselves.”

“As do we,” Night Locks added, her eyes flashing. “We belong only to ourselves, too.”

“What about the way between the worlds?” the wizard asked, speaking for the first time. “Does that belong only to itself? Because I know you use it. The other worlds you visit are reflected in your eyes, clear to see for anyone who knows how to interpret the signs.”

A stunned silence fell at the wizard’s unexpected revelation. They could hear only the sea, roaring against the island’s sandy shore.

“How sure are you of this?” the Dark King asked sharply.

“As sure as I am of my own existence. I have felt it ever since I first set foot on the island.”

The Dark King glared at the two sisters.

“You would deny me this?”

“It is not yours,” Golden Braids pointed out. “It is not ours, either, your majesty. We are only its keepers.”

“Who decided that?”

Golden Braids and Night Locks remained silent. The story of how they had come across the island and the way between the worlds was a secret they had sworn never to tell.

“We were chosen as keepers,” Golden Braids insisted. “And no one can get between that decision and us. Not even you, your majesty.”

The Dark King pointed towards the sea.

“Have you seen the size of our fleet? What do you think you could do against it?”

Night Locks’ lips curled in a twisted smile.

“Bring your fleet here, your majesty – and find out.”

The Dark King did not flinch.

“You know what? I think I will do just that.”

               9

 The Dark King wasted no time. He did not want to hear anything more about negotiations. He had not gone there to negotiate in the first place. Battle had always been on his mind. And battle he would have.

Night Locks and Golden Braids reported the results of their talks to the Jaguar Guardian and the Wise Fox. The Jaguar quickly arranged his own forces. He sent General Eagle to gather all the birds together. The Dark King’s armies would not find it easy to land on the island.

“Can we win?” Golden Braids asked the Wise Fox.

The Wise Fox bowed his head. His usually bright cheerful eyes were dull.

“I wish I could say that those with a right cause always have a chance to win. I believe that, at least. The Jaguar would laugh at me. He’d say no righteous cause alone can prevail over vast numbers and superior weapons and a strong urge to kill.”

“Perhaps we should go to the World of Wars,” Night Locks said. “They could lend us some of their armies.”

“And unleash chaos in this world,” Golden Braids argued. “We cannot go there – it’s one of the places we were warned against.”

“We cannot give up the way between the worlds, either.”

Golden Braids shook her head and took Night Locks’ hand.

“We won’t. We’ll make sacrifices if we must – but we won’t let the Dark King near the way between the worlds.”

Night Locks looked into her sister’s eyes and saw their past reflected there – and their future. She knew in that instant how the conflict might end – she knew what they might need to do.

“Aren’t you afraid, Golden Braids?”

“Maybe. A little. But despite the fear, I do not have any regrets. You?”

Night Locks looked away. At times she used to think that she regretted many things. But now, as she stood on the sandy shore with Golden Braids at her side, while the Dark King’s fleet floated towards their once peaceful refuge, she found that she had never regretted the important things.

“No,” she said softly. “I might be afraid, but I have no regrets.”

Golden Braids smiled, bright and warm. Night Locks would always remember that smile – would always treasure it. The brightness would vanish from Golden Braids’ eyes soon after.

                             10

The battle was fierce. It was said that on that day, the sun turned red, even though it was only early noon, and thunder rumbled in the distance, even though no storm clouds could be seen. The ocean bubbled and frothed, like a gigantic cauldron of boiling water. The ground trembled. Trees swayed restlessly this way and that, although there was no wind.

The Dark King had mistakenly believed there would be no resistance. He had told his armies that the island was as good as theirs.

“No other people live there. There is no one to fight for the sisters.”

But that was wrong. There was someone to fight for them – the island itself.

And the island did fight. Fiercely and desperately, with all the weapons it had at its disposal. Waves crashed against the fleet. Lightning struck the soldiers. Even a couple of trees joined in. And the armies of General Eagle and the Jaguar Guardian were a force to be reckoned with, the likes of which the Dark King and his people had never encountered before.

Yes, the entire island fought for Night Locks and Golden Braids. It fought for them because they were the guardians of the way between the worlds, and it fought for them because they were loved and respected and had done many good deeds for the creatures of that place. Night Locks and Golden Braids would have taken part in the fight, but the Jaguar Guardian had ordered them not to.

“You are the keepers of the way between the worlds,” he reminded them. “If you are killed or captured, that way vanishes with you.”

So, the sisters hid in a dark cave as they waited for news of the battle. They did not sit idle, though. They had prepared their own defenses. If things went ill, they knew what they had to do. They had a solution – a desperate one, to be used only when they knew there was no other hope.

                            11

The battle lasted three days and three nights. All the while, victory was uncertain on both sides. The armies fought fiercely, and it seemed like they both had equal chances of defeating their enemies. On the second night, the Dark King’s most cunning general was killed, which disheartened his armies. It looked like the island forces would be victorious after all.

But the Dark King had the old wizard up his sleeve, and although the old man had not done magic in hundreds of years, he had once been a powerful warlock. He could invoke rains of fire and turn the sea to ice. He could bring clouds of madness over the birds of the air and choke the beasts on the ground with poisonous fumes. He could give the strength of many men to the soldiers in his armies while he sapped the life force from his opponents. The forces on the island were now unevenly matched. But they still held their ground.

The Jaguar Guardian and his friend the Wise Fox were slain while trying to hold the forces of the Dark King off the island. Some say the two passed into the World of the Dead together and there continued their adventures. Others say that their spirits took on many forms over the years, maybe even human ones and are still roaming the world to this day. Look for two friends who would stand by each other no matter the cost, who value loyalty and honor above all else. That is how you will know it is them.

Half of General Eagle’s army was scattered far from the island, unable to fight the fierce winds invoked by the evil wizard. Many fell into the frozen ocean, but others made it to other shores, some dark and dangerous, others, bright and friendly. Their lives were not bad there and, in time, they built new nests and sang new songs. But none of them found a place like their old home, and it was always in their minds. Legends has it that is why some birds migrate. They are searching for traces of the island. They imagine that one fine spring day, they will find it again, and everything would be as it was before the Dark King’s attack.

General Eagle made it back to the island. He reached the cave where Golden Braids and Night Locks hid, waiting for news.

“It is not going well, is it?” Night Locks asked.

“Not well at all,” General Eagle confirmed. “We will be overrun soon. The Dark King already has troops close to your cottage.”

“He will find nothing there,” Golden Braids pointed out.

“Perhaps not. But it is only a matter of time before he finds this cave – and you.”

Night Locks and Golden Braids exchanged knowing glances.

“It is time, then,” Golden Braids said.

“It is,” Night Locks agreed.

Golden Braids watched the world outside. The trees were bowed under the fierce storm and the sky was overcast, a sickly light falling over the dark grass. But Golden Braids saw the place when it had been bright with birds singing in every tree.

“I’ll miss all this.”

Night Locks did not say anything. She placed an arm around Golden Braids’ shoulders.

“We will never find a home like this,” Golden Braids went on. “No matter where we go.”

“Maybe not. But we’ll have all this to remember – and the knowledge that we’ve saved so much more through our actions.”

The rumor of the battle was louder now.

“Are you ready?” Night Locks asked.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” Golden Braids said, her voice trembling slightly, though her eyes were dry. “But this is what we must do. There is no other way.”

              12

In the depths of the forest, at the foot of a snowy mountain, someone had built an altar and laid a wooden box on it. The sisters had been given the box a long time ago, when they were appointed keepers of the way between the worlds.

An old crone had once given them the box. She had told the sisters she had fallen from the sky one night. She had warned them that they were not to open the box unless the island and the way between the worlds was under threat and nothing else could save them.

“Opening the box would change many things,” the old crone had added. “It would stop the threat, yes, but the way between the worlds and its keepers would vanish forever, taking much of this world’s magic with them. You do not want to use such a weapon lightly.”

But now the time had come to use it. Even from there, Golden Braids and Night Locks could hear the din of the battle. The Dark King’s armies were approaching. They could wait no longer.

“We’ll open it together,” Night Locks decided.

Golden Braids merely nodded. As one, they moved their hands towards the box. They closed their eyes and pried the box open. A white light emerged from it, blinding and all-encompassing. It engulfed the sisters and the way between the worlds, the fighting armies, and the beleaguered island.

When it faded, nothing was left. No army and attacking fleet, no way between the worlds. Night Locks and Golden Braids were gone, carrying their secrets with them. The ocean now stretched on for miles, empty and desolate, with no memory of the battle. And it remains empty to this very day.

                             13

No one knows where the sisters went. Perhaps to one of the other worlds. But the way to travel between the worlds is now lost to them and to us, and we who were once part of a larger universe are now alone and isolated, trudging on with our dwindling magic that cannot be replaced. At least the way between the worlds had not fallen in the hands of the Dark King.

Night Locks and Golden Braids passed into legend. People still whisper about them, about the island and the way between the worlds. We still dream about the stories they left behind, the flights of fancy that turn out to be threads from their amazing tale. We try to put the threads together, thinking that if we had the whole story, we could bring them back, and the world would be as it was before they left.

Tonight, I cannot offer you an answer about their whereabouts. I can only offer you this story and a helping hand: look for them in your dreams. Look for them in the tales told by the fire or in the lines of some ancient book. The way to the sisters lies there – as does the way to move between the worlds. Maybe you will be the ones to finally find it.

But that, I think, will be a story for another time…

Copyright Simina Lungu 2024