Hello Folks!
A while ago I posted an inspiration photo on Instagram (@olivemmorris) and got my lovely followers to get involved with helping me write a story. I asked ‘where does this door lead?’ I got some brilliant responses and loved reading everyone’s ideas!
Polly.clouds commented “to an observatory, where a hermit lives and works. Nobody’s seen them for years and their door is always locked shut. But today… it’s been left slightly ajar…” and I chose her comment as my favourite as it was so atmospheric and I set about writing a short story to match the brief.
After my story about Mergin’s memories of the magical land ofWillowcliff, I had quite a few people asking me for more of Mergin’s adventures. (If you haven’t read it, you can read it here… Memories of Willowcliff )
SOo0o, I have decided to write a series of short stories about him and the observatory idea just screamed Mergin to me! Thank you to Polly for the inspiration, I hope you enjoy the tale…
The cobbles, worn smooth from centuries of footfall, were slippery in the rain that misted in soft waves across the stone arches. Mergin was careful where he placed his feet, watching intently for the patches of spongey moss that were particularly treacherous. Pulling his wide leather hood further across his face, he huddled over, protecting the package he carried with near reverence. It had taken him months to convince the Librarian of The Croft to lend him this particular tome, for it was usually locked away, hidden from sunlight and wandering eyes. But Mergin had worked in The Croft for years, and the Librarian, Kell, had a soft spot for him since Mergin always brought him a fresh crop of Kell’s favourite broad beans that Mergin tended in The Croft Garden. Kell had finally given in to Mergin’s polite and friendly but incessant requests and had allowed him to take the book for one evening, and one evening only. Mergin, though a resident of The Croft, was not one of the Scholars, so by rights was not allowed access to the books in the library. The Croft, however, recognised that the rule was elitist and archaic, so everyone who worked at The Croft was allowed to read the books on the main floor. Those kept behind the carved wooden screen, however, were for Scholars’ eyes only. But Mergin had been doing his research. Ever since he arrived in Talmea, he had been in pursuit of the rare and apparently forgotten Orb of Light. He’d heard folk songs sung about the mysterious orb, said to be able to show your future, and Mergin had become obsessed. He didn’t long for great riches, but he did long for great adventure, and what better quest than to glimpse your future in a magical sphere?
Mergin had begun travelling when he was old enough to leave his small village, but he started with small-scale pursuits, like searching for the infamous but secretive Bardic College of Monva, just to hear one song from the bards, and then moving onto Alenn to find the Cave of Tears where stalactites fell from the ceiling, dripping into the great lake below. After that adventure ended, he found himself sitting in a small inn on the northern edge of Alenn, relaxing with a frothing ale and feeling very satisfied. The well-earned peace from a successful mission didn’t last long, however, for he heard the old folk songs of the Orb that he knew so well, plucked on a lyre by a young girl by the fire. Lulled into daydreams by the familiar rhythm of the song, he was stunned to hear a final verse that he had never heard before. Lilting and poetic, the new verse was about The Croft of Talmea, and how, rumour had it, somewhere in its walls, the Orb lay, waiting to be found. Mergin could hardly contain his excitement, downing his ale and rushing to his room to scour his maps. Alenn bordered Talmea and though the northern land was cold, The Croft lay to the west, on temperate shores. He would not need to invest in snow gear if he took a boat from Alenn’s western dock and skirted the edge of Talmea to The Croft. So that was what he did, and upon arriving at the great bastion of stone, he smiled and talked his way into the role of a grounds worker. Working his way up, he was now well-known as the friendliest of The Croft’s Grounds Keepers. Two years had passed, and despite enjoying his work and his life, he had not found the Orb. Spending his free time in the library had proved interesting but so far fruitless. That is until he found mention of a mystical sphere in one of the history books in the main hall of the Library. It was written by an old alchemist of The Croft, Jae Douglas. Though only mentioned in passing, the tone with which Douglas wrote gave the impression that he was intimately acquainted with this sphere and when discussed in the same sentence as ancient prophecy, Mergin was certain this was the Orb of Light. Scouring indexes until he thought his eyes would bleed, he finally found Douglas’ own work entitled ‘Prophecies of the Ancient World through the Eyes of the Future’ and shouted out loud with joy. After a prompt telling off and numerous ‘shhhhhh’s from his fellow readers, he began to work on Kell to find the book. After realising it was behind the forbidden screen, Mergin didn’t lose heart and so began weeks’ worth of pleading. Today Kell had agreed because, for one thing the Master of the Library was away on research for three days, so Kell was left in charge, secondly, Kell was exhausted by Mergin’s good-natured begging and lastly Mergin had pickled some fresh broad beans with the wildflower honey he’d swapped a bundle of leeks for from the beekeeper, and Kell simply couldn’t say no. And so Mergin found himself huddled in his great coat, picking his way across the wet courtyard to his rooms in West Croft, almost giddy with anticipation. He daren’t read the book in the library, lest anyone see and find the Orb before him. He was probably overly cautious but after he was searching for a hidden chest in the Vell Valley and a pesky treasure hunter beat him to it, only after overhearing Mergin’s exclamations of excitement to an innkeeper the night before, Mergin was right to be cautious.
A crack of lightning split the sky and the heavens opened. Raindrops the size of grapes pummelled the stone and Mergin ran for the nearest doorway, terrified for the book’s safety. Shaking himself off and checking that the brown paper package was blissfully unharmed, Mergin looked around and realised he was in the Observatory Tower, forbidden to those not of the Night Class of The Croft. Mergin hoped no one would mind his presence, just until the rain had passed. The cobbles were now covered with a river of water an inch thick and there was no way Mergin was going to walk all the way to the West Croft in this. As though reinforcing Mergin’s decision, a great rumble of thunder rolled through the courtyard and Mergin stepped backwards, further into the tower, away from the bouncing rain. Since he would be here for some time, Mergin got comfortable, finding a particularly worn step in the great limestone staircase that led to the top of the Observatory Tower. Settling down he wondered whether he could risk reading the book to pass the time. Looking around, he saw no one, for the Observatory Tower was usually deserted in daylight hours. There was only the huge staircase and a thick wooden door at the top. No other entrances for people to sneak up on Mergin. If anyone did open the door of the Tower, he’d have plenty of time to put the book away before he was seen reading.
And so Mergin read while the rain raged outside, feet away from him. He hardly noticed it anymore. He pored over Douglas’ words, from alchemical formulas and tables that confounded Mergin, despite his familiarity with various languages from his travels. He found star charts and ink-drawn dragons, so small they would fit in the palm of your hand. One page contained a cypher of some sort, with symbols arranged in a convoluted pattern, and on another, a huge drawing of a peace lily flower. Douglas, it seemed, had interests ranging from botany to astrology. A great flash of light jolted Mergin from the book and he noticed it was suddenly quite dark. Whether from the storm that was in full force outside or from the lateness of the hour, he couldn’t tell for he had been lost in the pages and lost track of time. Sighing and stretching, his back cracking in three places, unhappy from being sat so long on a cold limestone step, Mergin stood up to flex his muscles.
That’s when he noticed it, a small glimmer of light from the top of the Tower. He looked around, convinced it hadn’t been there earlier. Though perhaps in the sunlight, it was disguised. Now, in the gloom, it was a beacon, summoning Mergin to it. He’d been careful not to anger anyone of The Croft by trespassing, though his curiosity often tortured him, he wanted to ensure he stayed in his position until he found the Orb. Spurred on from his success gaining Douglas’ book, and feeling safe in the storm, however, Mergin climbed the stairs. As he reached the top, he realised the door was ajar, and likely had been the whole time he had been in the Tower. Highly unusual, he thought, for the Night Class were the most secretive scholars in The Croft. As he reached the top step, he whispered a prayer to any god that might listen to not get caught, and he pushed. To his relief, the door swung open easily and silently.
Mergin was lost for words as he stared, mouth agape, at the room before him. The Observatory was spectacular, with spinning golden discs mounted on the walls and a great glass sheet at the top of the tower’s spire. Candles flickered from every surface, the wax dripping in great rivulets down heavy oak tables, of which there were many. The room was laid out like a cartographer's office, only these were maps of the sky and the world beyond. Books in huge piles, some swaying, others tumbled in a heap littered the room and great spinning globes ticked as they moved with the light of the moon and sun. Mergin had to forcibly close his mouth for he looked like a drooling dog. There were treasures beyond measure here, and knowledge so ancient Mergin could only dream of understanding it all.
Silently padding around the chairs carved with celestial scenes, he made his way to a huge recess in the far corner of the room. He didn’t know what drew him there, but before he knew it, his feet had taken him. He stood, gawping at the intricately painted sky, azure and sparkling on the inside of the great arched alcove. Flying horses and winged beasts danced across the stars, sparkling in golden paint. Shelves upon shelves lined the alcove, filled with brass timepieces that Mergin suspected didn’t tell the time at all but something altogether more interesting. In the base of the alcove was a wooden box, surprisingly simple against the gilded and elaborately decorated tools of the Night Class. Every muscle in Mergin’s body screamed at him to open the box and he gave in to temptation.
He almost fell to his knees in shock. Inside the box, on a bed of thick navy velvet, was a small sphere, no more than 2 inches in diameter. It was the pale green of ice and the crisp white of snow, translucent and transparent but opaque at the same time. It was silver and glowed like the moon, whilst also looking like fresh morning dew on a leaf. It whispered, and Mergin swore he heard his name. The box had a drawer, beneath the central compartment and Mergin pulled it out to reveal small wooden tiles, each with a rune or letter burned into it. He scrambled to open the book in his jacket, finding the page with the cypher on it. Sure enough, the letters and symbols matched perfectly and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He took a step back, too in awe to comprehend what he had found.
“So,” said a soft voice from behind him. Mergin spun to see a small man, hooded and bent with age, standing in the doorway. Mergin froze.
“I’m surprised it took you this long,” said the old man, and he smiled.
I hope you enjoyed the latest tale of Mergin’s adventures. Do you want to hear what happened next? Subscribe and comment below and let me know!
Peace,
Olive xxx