The Legend of Wight

Long ago, the folk of this land were bound to slavery by fierce warriors from beyond the sea, warriors who knew nothing of imagination or beauty, and who strove to confine the life of the land under a regular network of stone, binding its power and glory in dull banality. For many long years, for many lifetimes of men, they held the land in thrall, and only the folk of the far north were able to maintain their independence. But all things pass, and at length they were cast out, and the folk of the island, both the folk of iron and the folk of legend, looked to a new age, in which they would cast off all the oppressions that had settled over them, and live once more in the glory of the dawn.

But it was not to be. The people struggled among themselves, seeking to throw off the last of the chains which the binding folk had wrapped around the psyche of the land, and they could not yet form themselves into a nation. While they struggled, a scourge came over the sea, sweeping in under the cover of the storm. The fierce men in their ships fell on the folk of iron, driving them west before them. And the people of the island appealed to the fair folk, asking them to succour them in the face of their enemies. Now, despite the struggles, the bond between the people of sunlight and the shadow kin was still strong, and the good folk came out of their halls and palaces, and rode with the people of the islands. The alliance was strong against the invaders, and they were driven back. For a few short years the fair folk and the mortals lived together, and they thought that the dawntime had come again.

And then Wight came. Over the sea he came, following the Saxons who were his scouts, his claws glittering with cold, searing fire dancing from his mouth, and madness cavorting in his eyes. The wind from his wings blew cold into the heart of the fair folk, and their hearts were turned westward, towards the setting sun. But not all the fair folk turned away: some were eager to face this threat, and to fight for the kingdom that they had barely won. Chief among them were the Red Dragon, and his half-fay son, the king of the land. Together they resolved to bring Wight to battle, and to destroy him.

But Wight fled before them, falling on the isolated homes of the fay, devastating their forests, laying waste their palaces, and toppling their castles. The water of enchanted pools was poisoned, virgin mountains were defiled, dryads were ripped from their trees like babes from the womb, and left to gasp out their life on the cold earth. The Dragon pursued Wight, but he would not join in battle. And as Wight drove the faeries from the land, he bred children, white serpents with his hatred and madness, who swarmed over defences and broke the spirit of many of the folk.

And as Wight destroyed the fair folk, the mortals faltered in their stand against the Saxons, and crumbled. The invaders poured in from the east, and the kingdom seemed to be irrevocably lost. Wight took control of an island south of England, and Wight's Island was soon a name of terror in the ears of brownies, pixies, and elves. The Red Dragon was losing hope, until a traitor came from among the children of Wight, and offered to lead the white dragon into an ambush. The fair folk had little hope without a battle, and accepted the offer too eagerly.

On the appointed day they drew up, only to find that Wight had been forewarned, and waited in ambush with his children and the Saxons. They swept down, and the fair folk and their allies found themselves fighting for their lives. They fought hard, for their land and life, but Wight's forces were overwhelming. The king fell, as did his circle, and the Red Dragon fled with the body of his son, after facing Wight long enough to allow the remnants of his army to scatter. Thus the kingdom fell, slain by evil counsel.

That battle turned the tide, and neither the people of the islands nor the fair folk could stand any longer against the invaders. They fled west, and the Saxons settled in the empty land. Many of the fair folk returned to Arcadia, abandoning the land, but some remained, seeking to maintain a promise and a hope of a return to better times, to better years. These remnants Wight hunted mercilessly, even as the Saxons hunted the last of the Britons. For a time, it looked as though the white dragon would purge all the glamour that remained in the land, but no tide flows for ever: the ebb comes. The last of the chains that the warriors had bound about the land proved stronger than they could have dreamed, and bound the Saxons as they settled, and changed from bloodthirsty fighters to farmers and craftsmen. The fair folk even began to make bargains with them, though Wight raged. But the Saxons no longer held him as a god, and his fury could not move them in the absence of his strength.

And so Wight led a last assault on the West, determined to drive the Red Dragon from the land before the chain deprived him of the power. Roused by this final chance, the fair folk and Celts met Wight's forces on the borders of their mountains, and turned them back. Again Wight and the Red Dragon fought in the sky, and this time Wight turned and fled, unable to pass the guardian of the western mountains.

Now the war was finished, for neither side had the strength to continue fighting so openly. But Wight's hatred for the fair folk burned as strongly as ever, and he returned to his island to nurse plans of vengeance. He taught his children the art of walking in the world as men, and sent them throughout the island to seek out the fair folk, and bring him tidings of their dwellings. Then he would rise up on a sudden, and destroy a hold of the fay before they had the chance to build a defence. Some fought for the fay, and the Red Dragon maintained his hold in Wales, but throughout England, as it came to be called, Wight slowly eroded the influence of faerie, destroying the dreaming and the glamour.

And the story continues, for Wight yet lives on his island, andthe Red Dragon in his mountains, and some few of the fay still survive, hidden from Wight's seekers. The Saxons have been conquered in turn, and their conquerers conquered. Perhaps the balance could shift yet. Perhaps Wight can be driven forth, and the king return. Perhaps the final chain can at last be broken. Perhaps we can come to a new dawn.

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