“The father shall not know his own son, for human beings will copulate wantonly as cattle do. Then indeed shall come a very Giant of wickedness who will terrify everyone with the piercing glance of his eyes. Against him will arise the dragon of Worcester, which will do its best to destroy him; but when they come to grips, the Dragon will be worsted and overwhelmed by its conqueror’s wickedness, which will terrify everyone.”
“Really.”
“The Giant will climb on the Dragon, throw off all his clothes, and then ride upon it naked. The Dragon will rear the Giant up in the air and lash his naked body with its erected tail, but the Giant will recover his strength and cut the Dragons throat with his sword.”
“Now, now, Myrddin. You don´t want to be frightening our guests.”
“Luxury shall overspread the land, and fornication shall not cease to debauch mankind. Famine shall then return, and the inhabitants shall grieve for the destruction of their cities. In those days the oaks of the forests shall burn, and acorns grow upon lime trees! The Severn sea shall discharge itself through seven mouths, and the river Usk burn for seven months! Fishes shall die in the heat thereof, and from them serpents will be born.”
“That sounds a bit like 2009.” said Alphonse.
The man who was telling him his prophecies was Myrddin Wyllt. Dressed in a rough brown woollen tunic, he had long white hair and an even longer white beard. His eyes looked rather wild and his cheeks were rosy as apples. He was drinking mead from a pewter mug and puffing on a long pipe filled with hemp and wild tobacco. Myrddin had lived in the woods of the Otherworld for as long as anyone could remember. In Latin he was known as Merlinus Caledonensis, although not many people spoke Latin anymore, so most people called him Old Wilt. This would sometimes irritate him, and he would remind them that he was famous the world over, and that he had been a counsellor to many a king and fine noble. When he was not running and dancing naked in the woods, he would hang out in Ye Olde Oake, the local pub, and drink copious amounts of mead and ale. He would sit by the open fireplace and burp and fart a lot, and tell people endless tales of Camelot and King Arthur, or bore them with his prophecies. Old Wilt was a character with the Welsh gift of the gab. In spite of his vulgar ways he was loved by everyone, but also feared by everyone, as he was known to be a powerful magician. It was said that he could raise storms and make the cows infertile. The children loved him as he would always play the fool at their birthday parties, and let off lots of fireworks on the eve of the winter solstice. Ceridwen was the only one he would listen to. She even got him to take a bath once in a while. He had a twin sister Gwenddydd, who was thought by many to be a witch. A right pair of witches and wizards they would say.
Ceridwen offered Alphonse a mug of meddyglyn, her special brew of strong healing great mead, that had been aged for seven years. It was very sweet and had a hint of oranges and rose hips. Sarayu was sleeping soundly in the armchair by the fire. Alphonse had noticed that she was about the size of a young girl. Ceridwen’s potion seemed to be very powerful.
“Men will become drunk with the wine which is offered to them; they will turn their backs on Heaven and fix their eyes on the Earth.”
“You’re a fine one to be saying that.” said Ceridwen.
“Do you know I had to change the spelling of my name because in French it sounded like merde!”
“Myrddin! Enough now, really.”
Ceridwen was smiling as she spoke, and Alphonse thought Old Merde was quite a character. He was a real fool, who probably hid his magic powers under the cloak of a buffoon and prankster. While he was a boy in 16th century Provence, Alphonse remembered hearing the tales of the great wizard Merlin from the Islands of Britain, who was as famous a prophet as Nostradamus. The Otherworld seemed a mysterious place. All it needed now was for a dragon to turn up. As Alphonse was thinking just that, there was another knock on the door. In walked a small red dragon with a curly pointed tail.
“Hello Pendragon. Would you like a bowl of mead?”
The dragon nodded its head
“Don´t worry. He won´t bite, and the mead will send him off to sleep.”
In a few moments Pendragon was sleeping at Sarayu´s feet, by the fire. The mead was making Alphonse rather sleepy too.
“How about a walk?” suggested Old Wilt.
“I’ll get you another one down the pub if you like.”
So Alphonse set off with Myrddin and Ceridwen for Ye Olde Oake, leaving Sarayu to sleep off her potion in the company of the dragon.
The pub was about a ten minute walk away, and the sky was clear with a full moon. It was a small old half timbered coaching inn, with the sign of an oak leaf and three acorns hanging above the entrance. Inside, the bar was rather packed but there were a couple of empty seats by the fire. Old Wilt got a round of mead, and some children came over, wanting to know about his plans for fireworks on solstice eve, which was just a week away.
In reply, Wilt pulled a rocket from out of his pocket and, going outside with the children following right behind him, he lit the end. It shot up into the sky and exploded into a shower of stars. The children squealed with delight, as a little
bit of the solstice came a week early.
Alphonse thought that he could stay here forever. As if she could read his thoughts, Ceridwen said,
“You can always come back.”
“I would love to.”
They toasted each others health.
“When we return to Sarayu there is something I would like to show you. Have you ever heard of the Newton Codex?”
“Newton’s key to the Bible?”
“No. This codex is an ancient alchemical text with notes by Newton in the margin. He gave it to me shortly before he died.”
Posted via email from The Lost Symbologist
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