the otherness came (and I knew its name)

PART 1: THE ROADWAY, MUDDY AND FOXGLOVED

PART 1: THE ROADWAY, MUDDY AND FOXGLOVED

"He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature."

--

Madeline Miller

The Song of Achilles

THE NIGHT HIS FATHER DIED, Tedros had a dream.

As far as dreams go, it wasn't a pleasant one. Not that many of his dreams had been, at that age. But this one was particularly bad.

He had been standing on the very edge of a great glass tower, looking across a bay at a jagged black castle. He hadn't yet been there, but he knew the place nonetheless. It was the School for Good and Evil, and they were in Merlin's Menagerie, surrounded by hedge statues of his father. Arthur-- the real Arthur-- was standing beside him, staring up at the statues. It was raining. Tedros plucked unhappily at his soaked nightshirt and looked across at the Evil school, hoping they could go inside, soon. He didn't know what they were doing here.

"Tell me what you see." said Arthur.

Tedros looked up at him, uncertain but not surprised. Arthur had become vague and nebulous recently, pitching his son these indeterminate questions more and more frequently. Tedros wasn't surprised to find that he was doing it in his dreams, too.

"The... School for Evil?" he asked tentatively.

Arthur looked displeased with his answer. Tedros hastened to build on it;

"I mean-- there's the School Master's tower. Beyond is the Endless Woods. Is... is Bloodbrook that way?"

"I meant the School , boy." said Arthur impatiently. "Look closer."

Tedros squinted through the driving rain at the spiked turrets.

"There's fires in the rooms, and light in the windows." he said. "It doesn't look like anyone's here in Good, though. Are they all over in Evil? Why?"

Arthur didn't respond. Tedros looked down at his bare feet on the glass Good turret. His toes were going blue.

"Father, can we go inside? Please? I'm cold. Maybe if we go over to Evil, they'll let us in--"

"He does not understand." said a new voice. One Tedros recognised.

He whirled, looking for Merlin, but the wizard was nowhere to be seen-- and now, neither was his father.

"I do not wish him to." said his father's voice. "I wish that he will never understand." Shivering, Tedros looked desperately around for them, but he was alone, now. A storm was coming.

"Some wishes cannot be granted, Arthur." said the wizard.

"Father?" called Tedros helplessly. "M?"

They did not respond.

He sloshed in-between the hedges, searching for them, but they were nowhere to be seen; just more leaves at every turn.

Starting to get scared, Tedros called out again;

"Dad? Dad, where are you?"

He turned another corner. More statues. This time, Arthur was holding Excalibur at his side, another sword at his hip, and Guinevere in his arms. Tedros looked sharply away from the depiction of his mother-- but the glint of metal caught his eye. He looked back and found that the hedge swords had turned into a real metal, both Excalibur and the sheathed one, gleaming in the moonlight. Confused, he risked a few steps forward, and reached out to touch the nearer sword, Excalibur--