Merlin: The Book of Magic

  Always barefoot, Tamwyn had long black hair, with eyes equally dark. Over his shoulder he carried a simple pack, whose leather strap would one day have its own story to tell. He wore a small quartz bell on his hip, because its gentle sound reminded him of the land of bells. He also carried an old dagger, which he used mainly for whittling wood—unaware that it was actually connected, in a surprising way, to Rhita Gawr. Though his pocket always held a pair of iron stones and some grass tinder for making a campfire in the wilderness, he wondered whether he could discover the secret of making magical fire, just as he wondered whether the flame of his life would burn bright or dark. It would take all his courage, as well as help from the great spirits Dagda and Lorilanda, to discover the truth.

  Thule Ultima

  The greatest of all the faery artisans, this starflower faery with buttery yellow wings lived during the third century of Avalon. He carved the ornate oaken doorway to the residence of the High Priestess of the Society of the Whole, hovering over his work for weeks at a time without rest. He also perfected a technique for carving the nearly invisible bark of the eonia-lalo, Airroot's tree of the clouds. But his most famous creations were musical instruments made from harmóna that he and his apprentices gathered from the forests of El Urien: That wood is so rich with musical magic that even the slightest breeze will cause it to vibrate harmoniously.

  Tressimir

  … He hoped that his life might seem luminous.

  Before he became the elder historian of the wood elves, Tressimir witnessed many great moments in Avalon's history. He helped Krystallus create the Eopia College of Mapmakers, rode on Basilgarrad into the Battle of Fires Unending, and was one of the few people who actually met the elusive Lady of the Lake.

  But his life's greatest joy was something simpler: his bond with his granddaughter, Brionna. She called him Granda, and they were each other's only family. He also shared Brionna's deep green eyes and pointed ears, as well as her ability to remain utterly motionless in the forest. His robe, woven of green riverthread grass, often smelled like lemonbalm, which he used to ease his aching joints.

  It was said among the elves that Tressimir could name every living tree in the forests of El Urien—and describe all the sights, sounds, and experiences that the tree had known throughout its seasons. He once confided to Brionna that, when it came his time to die, he wanted to be buried beneath one of those trees: an ancient beech tree known as Elna Lebram, whose name means deep roots, long memories. He hoped for a traditional burial, where he would be wrapped in several layers of shrouds, woven from silverplume flowers, laurel roots, and leaves of everlasting. And he hoped that, on that day, his life might seem as luminous as the flames of the resinwax candles that elves would set afloat on a nearby stream—flames that, while very small, could still bring light to the darkened boughs above.

  Tulchinne

  For thirty-eight years, this Ayanowyn woman had been married to Gwirion, but she came to see him anew when Tamwyn entered their home. For this young man sparked her husband's hope. Like Gwirion and his sister, Fraitha, Tulchinne's soulfire burned very low. She wore a heavy shawl for warmth. Woven from hurlyen, a sturdy red vine, the shawl also covered her wings that were now—like those of all fire angels—too weak to fly.

  Tulchinne loved to cook, and regularly served lauva, a traditional meal of the fire angels, in ironwood bowls. Although her husband was grateful for the delicious smells, he couldn't cook a successful meal himself. (This stemmed from the fact that he could not taste anything, having burned his mouth badly as a child.) Similarly, Gwirion often whistled, and Tulchinne enjoyed the music, but gave up long ago trying to master the art. "Whenever I try to whistle," she confessed, "small birds drop dead at our doorstep." Perhaps, Tamwyn muses, this arrangement helped their marriage: They filled each other's gaps, like two pieces of dovetailed woodwork.

  Uzzzula

  Resembling a bee with purple-tinted wings, this hive spirit was High Priestess Coerria's devoted maryth. Known by all at the Society of the Whole, her language was a rhythmic mixture of hums, buzzes, and airy whistles. Uzzzula was often seen buzzing around Coerria's head, busily braiding the woman's long strands of white hair.

  Willenia

  … She wrote over five hundred poems and ballads.

  Here was a bard who celebrated the wonders of her world! As exuberant as a meadowlark announcing the arrival of dawn, she wrote over five hundred poems and ballads. Willenia was revered by the people of Avalon, as was her more dismal contemporary, Pwyll the Younger. Yet much like Cairpré in the days of Lost Fincayra, this bard gave people a renewed sense of hope in themselves and their future. Willenia's cornerstone work was a complete history of Avalon, from the planting of Merlin's magical seed through the ages of peace, war, and renewal that followed. Its opening lines, commonly called "Born of a Seed That Beats Like a Heart," are often sung by bards:

  As one world dies, another is born. It is a time both dark and bright, a moment of miracles. For even as Fincayra is saved, it is lost—passing forever into the Otherworld of the Spirits. But in that very moment, a new world appears. Born of a seed that beats like a heart, a seed won by Merlin on his journey through a magical Mirror, this new world is a tree: the Great Tree. It stands as a bridge between Earth and Heaven, between mortal and immortal, between shifting seas and eternal mist.

  Its landscape is immense, full of wonders and surprises. Its populace is as far-flung as the stars on high. Its essence is part hope, part tragedy, part mystery.

  Its name is Avalon.

  Avalon (The Great Tree of Avalon)

  Long ago, on the mist-shrouded isle of Fincayra, the young wizard Merlin planted a magical seed that beat like a heart. In time, it sprouted into a tree so vast and wondrous that it constituted an entirely new world: the Great Tree of Avalon.

  Avalon is a world in between all other worlds, a bridge between mortal and immortal. Rooted in the mists of Lost Fincayra, it is a place of infinite wonders, with endlessly varied creatures and places. And Avalon became—for a time—the only world where humanity and all other creatures found a way to live together in true harmony. All of that changed when human greed and arrogance grew too powerful. Then, as the stars on high began to vanish, causing the sky to darken, the future of the Great Tree darkened as well. Whether Avalon would be saved or lost, no one could foresee. Just as no one could tell who was the true heir of Merlin, destined to save Avalon—and who was the child of the Dark Prophecy, fated to destroy it.

  Brynchilla (Waterroot)

  Here is Avalon's realm of water, where the smallest rivulets gleam with pure élano bubbling up from the depths of the Great Tree, and the largest rivers flash with currents of bright color destined for the Rainbow Seas. Everywhere in this realm is the sound of water—from the thunderous White Geyser of Crystillia to the melodious rainfall of the Sea of Spray. Many a bard has sung ballads about the Wellspring of Mist, the watery Willow Lands, or the magical reflections of the Pool of Stars, yet these are but a few drops in an ocean of marvels. Waterroot's creatures range from the joyous bubblefish, who live only as long as a single heartbeat, to the wrathful water dragons such as Hargol—who, when angered, breathe torrents of blue-tinted ice. Phosphorescence sparkles in the churning currents and the wakes of elven ships, whose sails are made from woven fronds of elbrankelp. Even the trees of this realm speak of water: Branwenna trees are so fluid that, when their bark is cut open, their liquid wood can be poured.

  El Urien (Woodroot)

  The forests of El Urien, the westernmost root-realm in Avalon, hold trees of every description, along with glades of infinite tranquillity. So it is no surprise that the realm's name means deepest forest in the wood elves' language. Here a traveler can find magical harmóna trees, whose wood vibrates melodiously with every breath of wind; lilac elms, whose boughs produce many sensuous aromas; and the rare Shomorra tree, which grows a different kind of fruit on every branch. This realm's most famous tree, however, is Elna Lebram, an ancient
beech tree where the elves have buried their most revered bards and scholars, including the elder historian Tressimir. In addition to the wood elves, who live in elaborate tree houses, the forest is home to millions of faeries—mist faeries, moss faeries, star-flower faeries, and more. It is also home to innumerable kinds of food, including pears, tangerines, walnuts, spicy pepperroot, cherries, plums, almonds, and larkon fruit (whose taste, the wizard Merlin once declared, is like "liquid sunshine"). Woodroot is the chosen realm of the famous gardener and teacher Belamir, who lives in the walled village of Prosperity. Somewhere in the dense woods lives another person, equally famous though far more mysterious: the Lady of the Lake.

  Holosarr

  Although it rests high above the roots and trunk of the Great Tree, Holosarr is Avalon's lowest branch, far below the stars. In fact, the name Holosarr is the Taliwonn people's term for lowest realm, since they have long been unaware of the root-realms below. (Hence the Taliwonn craftsman Palimyst's astonishment when he first encountered Tamwyn.) Much of inner Holosarr, the region nearest the trunk of the Tree, is lined with long, narrow valleys divided by rocky ridges. Outer Holosarr, by contrast, is spotted with countless lakes of such clarity that they magnify the images of the stars. Because they also act like prisms, these lakes are called Starlight's Palette. In this realm live the Taliwonn people—immense, hunchbacked creatures who move with surprising grace despite the fact that each has only one leg. Drumalings also reside here, making any travel dangerous. High above soar colorful birds whose wingfeathers flash in the starlight, while bizarre insects fly nearer to the ground.

  Lastrael (Shadowroot)

  This is Avalon's realm of eternal night. There is no dawn; there are no stars. In Shadowroot, light is an extremely rare phenomenon—to be deeply cherished or greatly despised, depending on one's view. Yet even in the unrelenting darkness, as the old elf Grikkolo would have pointed out, there are wonders of richness and subtlety. The museos, whose heartrending music touches any listener, originate from this realm. So does ravenvine, which produces intense heat but no flames when burned. In the Vale of Echoes, a single footfall can sound like an army on the march; a single drop of rain, like an endless cascade. For a time, there was also a great city founded by fire angels, the ancestors of Gwirion: Dianarra, the City of Light, which hosted music and stories from many distant lands. The city flourished, adding radiant colors to the night, until a different form of darkness descended—the darkness of intolerance and fear.

  Malóch (Mudroot)

  The brown plains of this realm seem dreary and lifeless at first, since they contain mostly vast stretches of mud. Yet this mud, rich with sacred élano, holds extraordinary life-giving qualities. The elusive mudmakers who live in this region, including Aelonnia of Isenwy, wield magic that came from Merlin. They have long used this power to form new creatures from the mud—and the results range from enormous elephaunts to tiny, glowing light flyers. The Secret Spring of Halaad, full of élano, also bubbles out of these plains. But there is danger and brutality here as well, especially from the gnomes who live in underground tunnels. To the north, Mudroot erupts with greenery in the jungles of Africqua. Yet here again, surprising beauty exists alongside danger, since the haunts of marsh ghouls are not far away. Perhaps nowhere else in Avalon are there contrasts so dramatic as in Mudroot—so it may be fitting that this realm, so rich with new life, is also the scene of terrible slaughter in the climactic Battle of Isenwy.

  Merlin's Knothole

  "Window to the Stars" is what Gwirion called this place—Nuada Ildana in the Ayanowyn tongue. As he explained to Tamwyn, "It is an actual opening in the trunk of the Great Tree—where the stars, not élano, are the source of light." The Knothole lies at the highest starward point of the Middle Realm. Because it juts out from the trunk of the Tree, people—including Ethaun—can walk there, just as they do on the root-realms below or the branches above. Most remarkable of all, from this place one can easily view the branches . . . and all that lies beyond. When Tamwyn finally arrives there, he will see all these things, as well as one more thing that he did not expect to find.

  Middle Realm

  This is the Ayanowyn people's name for the inner landscape of the trunk of the Great Tree. Through the center of this realm run the Spiral Cascades, which combine upward-flowing water, downward-moving light, and outward-drifting music. Emanating from the cascades are countless tunnels carved by water, gnawed by termites, or opened by the workings of élano. The radiance of this life-giving sap provides light to the Middle Realm, making its tunnels and caverns glow subtly. Many sections of the tunnels are decorated with spectacular murals, created by Ayanowyn storypainters, while others reveal colorful rings that hold the very memories of the Great Tree. High at the starward end of the realm is the Secret Stairway that leads to Nuada Ildana—Window to the Stars to the fire angels, and Merlin's Knothole to the lamed explorer Krystallus. From that high perch, one can see the branches of the Tree and, beyond, the stars of Avalon.

  Olanabram (Stoneroot)

  Of all the root-realms, Stoneroot has the brightest starlight. No one knows why that is so, just as no one knows why Stoneroot's rocks change color with every season. The high peaks in the north include Hallia's Peak, the tallest mountain in the Seven Realms and the only place where a traveler is high enough to see the lower reaches of Avalon's trunk. In central Stoneroot's farmlands, bells are everywhere—on barn doors, weather vanes, barrels of ale, newborn lambs, and people's clothing. That is why this region is often called "the land of bells." Stoneroot's plant life ranges from the ancient, twisted spruces of the Dun Tara snowfields to the small, rounded cupwyll plants that grow all year round in rushing streams. The Great Temple of the Society of the Whole is in this realm, in the center of the Drumadian compound. Bards sing that the temple's stones came from the famous stone circle of the Dance of the Giants in Lost Fincayra, brought to Avalon with the help of Dagda himself.

  Portals

  Discovered by the wood elf Serella in the Year of Avalon 51, magical portals provide a very swift—and very dangerous—mode of travel throughout the root-realms of Avalon. While portals take varied forms, and are found in many different settings, they are always marked by crackling green flames. From the entrance to a portal, a traveler can glimpse what lies behind the flames: pulsing rivers of light that can carry people to any of the Seven Realms (except, in recent times, to Shadowroot, whose only portal was destroyed during the civil war of the dark elves). Portals also lead to the mysterious Swaying Sea, which is neither a root nor a branch, and—as the explorer Krystallus discovered—deep into the trunk itself, to the Great Hall of the Heartwood.

  Portalseeking requires total concentration. For portals magically disassemble travelers, carrying them through the innermost veins of the Great Tree, and then reassemble them as they arrive at their destination. Without clarity of mind, travelers might arrive somewhere else—or, even worse, might disintegrate completely, merging utterly into the Tree's élano. And some portals seem to have minds of their own, choosing random destinations for voyagers. All this makes traveling through portals a delicate and dangerous art. In the words of Serella, "Portalseeking is a difficult way to travel, yet an easy way to die."

  Rahnawyn (Fireroot)

  Fireroot is Avalon's realm of flaming ridges and charred rock, erupting volcanoes and plumes of sulfurous smoke. Most of this realm is red or orange; even its water is the color of rust. Ironwood trees, with fiber so hard they are fire resistant, flourish in the valleys. On the ridges of the Volcano Lands grow fire plants, shaped like ghoulish hands that grasp at the feet of passers by. Experienced travelers prize the honey of Fireroot's burning bees, which is always warm. (They work hard, however, to avoid the bees themselves, because their stings burn like hot coals.) Despite the harshness of the terrain, peculiar forms of wildlife abound. Salamanders enjoy lounging in flame vents, while oxen roam the Burnt Hills, always wary of fire dragons. Only one flower grows in this charred realm—firebloom,
a small orange blossom that thrives on ground recently scorched by flames. The flamelon people are often, though not always, as fiery and volcanic as their homeland. They are industrious and inventive as well, with particular skill at crafting weapons of warfare. Most flamelons do not worship Dagda and Lorilanda, the great spirits of wisdom and rebirth who inspire many peoples throughout Avalon. Instead, they honor the wrathful spirit Rhita Gawr, seeing him not as a god of war, but as a force of creation that scours the land so that firebloom may flourish.

  River of Time

  A vague line of light in the sky, the River of Time is visible only from Holosarr or the higher branch-realms of Avalon. Like a luminous crack, or a seam in the fabric in the sky, it runs through the realm of the stars. In fact, the Taliwonn people of Holosarr have named it Cryll Onnawesh, which means the seam in the tent of the sky.

  As the Taliwonn craftsman Palimyst explained to Tamwyn, the River actually divides the two halves of time—past and future. Thus within the River itself, time always remains fixed in the present. Because of this, anyone who enters the River can move along its course, which passes near every star, traveling enormous distances in space while remaining in the present time. And if Avalon indeed lies between all the other worlds, connecting each of them, then the River of Time links these worlds in a surprising fashion: One could ride to anywhere in the universe—and never leave the present moment.

  Spiral Cascades

  Flowing deep within the trunk of the Great Tree, this wondrous place is the union of three cascades. The first is made of water, which spirals higher and higher, connecting the roots far below to the stars high above. The second is made of light, which floats endlessly downward. And the third, as Tamwyn discovers, is made of music. The music vibrates, harplike, while swelling with the fullness of horns and the sweetness of bells. Combined, the cascades spiral ceaselessly upward, downward, and outward.