All posts by Three Knots

Nesting in Nysaris

From Gwyneth:

There’s something about Nysaris that invites folk in. And I don’t mean the usual Faire, ‘Welcome! Everything is for sale’! invitation. No; there is something far deeper inside Nysaris, a city built around a goddess of hope. 

Sciathán Bán attached himself to me

The Realm had such a Classical Greek atmosphere that I was surprised to find myself in the company of a white raven. Since Apollo began the practice of shooting the messenger when the (white) raven who brought him the news of a lover’s infidelity had the audacity not to peck out the lady’s eyes, the god cursed all ravens to be black from that moment on. I’d hesitate to venture into a place like Nysaris if I were a kvitravn. For now, I’m calling him Sciathán Bán, because it’s a silly play on the Irish poem Pangur Bán. “Pangur” just means “cat”, and “bán” is “white”, so I checked with Brán for the word for “raven”— which I failed to pronounce after half a dozen attempts. He suggested “sciathán”, which means “wing”, instead— and that, it turns out, I can pronounce, with practice. I’ve made it clear to him that we are avoiding Apollo at all costs. 

Continue reading Nesting in Nysaris

The Storyteller of Shimmering Fen

From Gwyneth:

The Shimmering Fen

Some Faires, this doesn’t happen, but most it does. I’ll be in a Realm, and I’ll meet one of the inhabitants and learn their stories, or I’ll just get a strong feeling about something, and then for a few hours I am suffused with the essence, not of that person, but of someone else. It happened once with a girl from Trollhaugen, then a resident of San Mora, and then there was Seda Silvia, who found herself in Living Echoes as the mists descended last year. I’m sure there have been more over the years. And whilst I’ve not been disguising myself this year or inviting these experiences, they area. blessing when they occur. First, they give a voice to something I’m sure needs it, secondly they give me a chance to be someone else for a while (completely unlike the LARPs I used to play in what seems like two lifetimes ago), and third, this year they give me a chance to not be worried about where Friðrós is and what sort of trouble she’s getting in to today. Just a few days ago, she sauntered into the Fae B&B in a shade of dark petrol teal (apparently it’s called Viridian) and a dress that was no more than some straps around her top half and a loincloth over her bottom. I managed not to seal her into one of the WooHoo! Bay caves, but only barely. And Nathaniel talked me out of just “introducing” her to a Drake. I’m so rambly right now. All this Faire, I think, I’ve been scattered all over the place, sort of like Richard was before he got diagnosed with adult attention deficit disorder. See what I mean? I haven’t thought about Richard in years. 

Continue reading The Storyteller of Shimmering Fen

The Land of Wisps Forgot

A dream, a reverie

If you would venture where the Spirits Cross
Be sure to have your wings on: you will need
To cross a gorge wide as a giant’s step
And with one broken bridge, a gust of wind
Could make you miss your stride. Only the rocks
Would welcome you. Like I said: wear your wings.

Spirits Crossing
Continue reading The Land of Wisps Forgot

Sullen, and Satisfied, in Sialdor

From Friðrós:

It didn’t work. At least, not the other night. I guess purple is not radical enough to raise Her Majesty’s anger. But I am no huldefólk who gives up. No; I will try again and again. This time, Moth favoured me with a lovely Viridian paint, and I topped it off with some shiny lacquer from rainnn. The Petrichor dress was a must-buy, after that, and I had some Hexumbra shadow in exactly the right colour to make it pop. Then, I checked out Raven Bell‘s hair studio for the cut and colour. She can’t ignore this

Big honking tree, but my hiding didn’t go so well.

Sialdor is … green! Which meant that I blended right in. Here I am trying to lose myself in a tree, and failing. But in a place so green, surely there were other spots to get lost in.

Continue reading Sullen, and Satisfied, in Sialdor