Three Moons

Arrival at the Cabin in the Woods

The cabin in the woods was larger than Lile had expected. In her mind, she had pictured a small, dilapidated cottage lost under moss and creeping vines. But Old Maeve’s home looked only recently built, with a young garden, not a stem out of place. It did not fit the depictions in stories of a wise woman’s house. Perhaps Lile should not have been surprised as Old Maeve herself did not match the stories. Rather than a hunched, babbling hag in torn robes, she was a true lady of poise and eloquence. She did wear robes, deep green in colour, but they were always tidy. Even now, after several days on the road and a long tramp into the forest, her clothes were without blemish, her top bun without fray, while the hem of Lile’s dress was covered in mud, her hair, full of leaves and her shoes, not designed for rough terrain, were wearing away at the soles. It must be magic, Lile thought, that’s how she keeps herself so presentable.

“Not magic, my dear, but grace,” Old Maeve said with a wink. Lile jumped, startled once again by Old Maeve’s strange ability to sense the thoughts of others.

“But that was definitely magic, right?”

“That was definitely magic.” Old Maeve chuckled to herself as she walked ahead of Lile, crossing the small forest clearing to the hut which sat off centre, framed by an array of trees. When she arrived at its door she knocked three times as though it was not her own home. The door swung open for her. Before entering, she turned to Lile, “Welcome home,” she said with a warm smile. Her greying golden hair glinted in the light of the drooping sun. She embodied such warmth and grace that it was impossible for Lile to feel apprehensive about her future. Maeve disappeared inside Lile's new home and choosing to follow her in brought such a sense of finality to the younger woman. I step inside and it begins, she thought to herself.

"Don't be silly dear," Maeve called to her. "It began the moment you said 'yes!'"

Lile removed her dirty shoes, wondering if she could ever wear them again. They were utterly ruined. She would have to wear a different kind of shoe from now on, one that suited the life of a wandering wise woman.

Inside, the furnishings were modest. Wooden floors, wooden walls, wooden ceiling. She took in a table with three chairs and a couple of stools by a fireplace that held a large cauldron. She wondered if Maeve often had guests that would fill those chairs, all the way out here. There must have been others once and recently too. Who could have built the cabin otherwise? Surely not Old Maeve. To Lile's right, the wall was lined with windows and a bench for preparing food which contained a range of draws and cupboards. On the far side of the room were two doors, confirming to Lile that the hut was indeed more than just one room.

Old Maeve had swung her rucksack off her back and was unpacking it on the table. Lile followed suit, releasing her much smaller sack from her shoulders. She began to untie it but was stopped by her companion.

“No, no,” Old Maeve said, “you can take your things into the bedroom.” She pointed to the one door, of the two, that was closest to the windowed wall. Lile did as she was told.

Through the door, she found a small bedroom containing two low beds, one for the wise woman and one for her apprentice. Old Maeve had clearly been preparing for an apprentice for some time. Her request of Lile, which had seemed so non-committal at first, had not been an impulsive one.

As with the living area, there was a row of windows on the right-hand wall. A set of draws with a pile of books and a wooden jewellery box by the bed nearest the windows indicated to Lile that this bed was Old Maeve’s. She walked to the other, which was closest to her, and began unpacking her few possessions into the empty chest that sat beside it.

She considered how little she had brought with her, and how simply furnished Old Maeve’s home was. Though Lile had grown up the daughter of tribesmen turned peasant farmers with little wealth to their name, their house was somehow always cluttered. They were fortunate to belong to a generous community. Those in the village often gifted each other the crafty things they had created. Surely, every home had at least one or two woollen hats knitted by Lile’s mother. Likewise, Lile’s home was filled with clay ornaments, wooden furniture, iron tools, and woollen blankets and clothing. There was no finery. It was all so crude, but if it were gifted, it was never wasted. The sparseness of Old Maeve’s house led Lile to believe that the woman must be so lonely. No wonder she had wanted an apprentice. It was all the stranger then, that Old Maeve never took any gift or payment for her services of healing and blessing. How does this woman survive? Lile wondered.

It did not take long for her to empty the contents of her sack. She had just a few items of clothing, including her favourite woollen red scarf, which had been too hot to wear on the long trek in, a couple of balls of blue yarn, and her set of knitting needles. She would run out of thread very quickly and didn't know how she would entertain herself when she did. It dawned on her just how far away from home she was. There was no one to meet, no stalls to visit and no wool to spin. It was just her and Old Maeve. What the wise woman did for entertainment was beyond her. In her mind, she imagined Maeve playing with magic, though she had never witnessed magic used in play. It was a tool, used for healing or chasing bad spirits away from the cabbages.

She walked over to the window and took in the outdoor landscape. They were surrounded by the tall bone-white trees for which Geal Forest was famous. Bone trees, as they were aptly named. While these were the most common and well-known, they weren't exclusive. On the way in, Maeve had pointed out the bahl trees which were the opposite of bone trees in every way. While the bone trees stood tall and proud, the bahl trees were hunched and knotted with limbs akimbo. There were also cottish trees, though Lile had thus far seen but one. Maeve explained that these were the ancient sentinels of the forest.

"They've stood here for thousands of years," she had said. "While other trees and animals perish, the cottish trees watch on. Only the Lady of the Forest herself is older."

Gael Forest was the largest known forest in the land and it was clouded in superstition. For the monarchy in Basamortah, it was a forest of horrors, a reputation that was well deserved. Four autumns ago, Basamortah's prince and heir to the throne, Prince Asier, led a small, but elite army into the forest. He never left. The entire army simply disappeared. The king sent further troops to find them, many of whom died on the journey as casualties to one of the harshest winters that anyone in Eileland could remember. They never found any bodies nor any traces of human activity. It was as though Prince Asier had never come this way to begin with. But he had, and his demise had come too late for Lile and her people, the Deargish, whose tribes had been conquered and forced into servitude. They were the last of the Basamortan conquests.

It was not frightening for Lile, however. She can tramped through these woods with enduring wonder. It was not eerie at all, but beautiful, strong and full of life.

She gazed at the trees now with a silly smile on her face. The expression of her overwhelming joy. This was the home of the Lady of the Forest, the birthplace of all the myths and legends that had shaped her people over centuries. She had listened to stories of this forest her entire life, in lullabies sung to her by her mother, and ballads by the fire where the whole village joined in chorus.

Here The Lady of the Forest planted the first tree and breathed life into all the beasts of the earth. And it was here that the Lady of the Forest had avenged her worshippers for the pain they had suffered. Coming here was like stepping directly into a song.

She closed her eyes and prayed a prayer to the Lady of the Forest. She asked for protection and for guidance in her studies so that she could become an accomplished wise woman herself. Help me become the woman my village needs me to be, she begged silently. By the window of that simple cottage, she felt peace, believing that the Lady of the Forest had heard her. This was the right decision, she thought. To become the village wise woman would be a great honour and support for her family.

She opened her eyes and her peace was quickly replaced by alarm. Standing at the edge of the clearing, stark against the white tree trunks was a huge black wolf. She yelped. She had never seen a living wolf, but she had heard enough to know they were dangerous.

“Maeve, Maeve!” She cried. The wolf must have heard her, because it quickly turned and ran back into the forest, disappearing out of sight in mere seconds.

“Whats is the matter?” Old Maeve asked behind her. Lile jumped and yelped again.

“Oh goodness, sorry,” Lile said. She grabbed at the pendant that hung around her neck, a wooden carving of a dryad given to her by her brother, in an attempt to calm herself. She could feel her heart racing. “There was a wolf,” she explained, pointing out the window.

“Oh,” Old Maeve said. She let out a chuckle of relief. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about the animals. I’ve blessed the area around this home. No creature of ill-intent may come near.”

“So the wolf can’t enter the clearing?”

“Oh, it can enter, but only if it means us no harm. Come, I’ll make us some tea.” Old Maeve took Lile’s free hand and led her out of the bedroom. Lile allowed herself one more glance out the window as she was led away. She still held her brother's pendant, unsure of how much courage she could take from Old Maeve’s words.