The Phantom Queen - A tribute to the Morrigan

Just as I was beginning to think that I had lost my way, the trees opened into a clearing which held a small cottage. On either side of the path leading to the doorway were lavish gardens, surprisingly growing strong despite the darkening of the season.

This place hadn’t been my destination, but perhaps whoever lived here could offer direction. My fingers wavered over the hilt of my sword as I approached, knowing that danger lurks where it is never expected, but the closer I got to the door my guard lowered. I could feel from deep within that this was where I was meant to be in this moment.

Dropping my hood, I raised my fist to knock on the door when it creaked open with ease. I could see within the small opening that there was a fire roaring in the hearth. A sweet smell drifted into my nose and I recalled the apple trees I had passed on my way here.

“Don’t be shy, child,” I heard an older woman say causing me to jump.

Pushing open the door, I stepped inside to see a rather eccentric elderly woman standing over the fire stirring a pot. She turned to me and motioned for me to hang up my cloak.

“How did you…”

“Your Elven friend’s aren’t the only ones who hold secrets, my dear. I was expecting you. I hope you like warm cider.”

“I uh,” I bit my lip and nodded, “I do.”

“I expected your arrival. Sit down and we can chat.”

As casually as I could, I sat down upon one of the chairs she had sitting in front of the fire. I replied with gratitude when I was offered a cup of steaming amber. It wasn’t until she took a seat across from me that I took time to study her.

In the light of the fire she appeared young, but it wasn’t a youth of innocence, but of a woman who knew far beyond her years. Her eyes held an emerald gaze, deep like the forest and grounding like the dirt below. Her skin was a light tone of the Earth while her hair flowed down her shoulders with the color of bleached bones. Ebony feathers hung from her ears shimmering purple and green, and hung from her neck were three bird skulls.

“Those skulls,” I said softly, “Are they Corvids?

A warm smile broke across her face.

“You know your birds well, dear.”

I shrugged calmly.

“I see them everywhere. Even in my dreams.”

It wasn’t like me to be so open with my thoughts. My fingers tightened ever so slightly around my cup before I relaxed and took a sip of cider. The sensation of sweet apple and spices hit my tongue reminding me of home.

“Ah, the Phantom Queen loves to say hello.”

I tilted my head and looked at her, unsure of who she spoke of. When she noticed the state of my stare, she laughed.

“You mean you are not one of Hers?”

“I fear I don’t know who you speak of,” I replied a bit sheepishly, “Where does she reign? Perhaps I know her by another name.”

“She goes by many names and titles. Her reign is far stretched, but she visits the Earthly plane only when she chooses.”

“And you,” I tilted my head with intrigue, taking in the earthliness of her image once more, “you are one of Hers?”

She smiled, but I received no answer. As we sat in the quiet my mind drifted away. I could hear the ripple and crack of the flames before us and the sound of distant crows. They had led me here, to this place. The Phantom Queen this woman spoke of captivated me, for I had been visited many a night from a shadowy, hooded figure.

My eyes closed and I tried to envision her once more. I could feel the energy of the room brushing across my skin, unlike any other I had felt. It was strong, powerful, and all knowing. I saw the swirl of cosmos around me and I embraced it for the moment, wondering for a brief period of time if this was the doing of the woman in front of me. I had come across people who manipulated energies before. They held great, daunting wisdom. Could this woman before me be a witch of sorts?

“You have the essence of Her shadows wrapped around you, darling. The caw of a crow, do you hear? She is near.” She took a moment to tend the fire and as she stared into the flames her eyes sparkled with a darkness,” I fear you have come to me on ill terms. Are my instincts true?”

I sat my cider onto the table and sighed deeply.

“I have been told there is a flower within the Obscurian Forest that will cure my father,” I shifted my gaze to the flickering flames, “He contracted a soul-eating disease from an escapade last Spring and the hands of Death are drawing closer with each breath.”

I watched her brow furrow and her face grow solemn. Even she knew the perils of that forbidden forest. I had been on a journey for many days now searching for the edge of that terrible, black bark I had only heard of in stories. My family had asked me not to go, but as I looked to my father, his face pale and grim, I knew I had no other choice.

“Those woods are a dangerous place. I’ve never seen a soul come out with their wits, some not even their breath.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“You can’t change what the stars decree.”

“I can try,” I stated with a firm voice. From the corner of my eye I saw her smile.

“I admire your courage, child. Perhaps your valor will inspire the gods.”

She rose from her seat and walked over to the corner of the room in which a small wood-carved table stood. It was covered in candles, a deck of cards, crystals, and a few old worn books. Reaching between two candles, she pulled out a piece of what resembled obsidian, but when she placed it in my hands I noticed that colors swirled from within it.

“What is this?”

“A gift. It will guide you to the Obscurian Forest. Know that your Fay allies cannot follow you into this darkness. I wish I could offer you something more but not even my gardens have a cure for such a dark disease.”

We stood and she walked me to the door, handing me my cloak.

“I am grateful for your help…” I trailed off, realizing I didn’t know this woman’s name, “I’m sorry but I never caught your name.”

“My name is not of importance. Now go; time is not to waste in such troubling times for you.”

“Thank you, again.”

She took my hands in hers and looked me in the eyes, her own gleaming a bittersweet sadness.

“Shadow and Starlight guide you, my child.”

I followed the path down from the cottage, stopping when the stones returned to dirt. I heard the sound of the door shutting and I turned around only to find a green clearing of grass. Gone were the gardens. Gone was the warm cottage. My eyes widened in shock and I glanced into my palm to see if it had all been an illusion, but the stone was still there.

...She goes by many names and titles. Her reign is far stretched, but she visits the Earthly plane only when she chooses...

...And you are one of Hers?...

“Phantom Queen,” I whispered as a murder of crows voiced their thoughts in the distance.