Coren spent the day packing his things and making arrangements with the ship captain for his return. Outside he was calm, in control, taking his sentence with dignity. In his mind he felt like dying. His uncle had given his final sentence. Now he was going home, in disgrace. When his mother died six years ago his uncle had offered to raise him to become a successful merchant. He had failed.
Failure! The word echoed in Coren’s mind as he made his way across the crowded wharf.
Failure. It reechoed as he boarded his ship for home.
Failure. You are a failure. You will amount to nothing. His uncle’s sentence was inescapable as he leaned against the ship’s railing watching the coast recede. It wasn’t just that he had failed to please his uncle. It wasn’t just that he had failed to do what was expected of him. He had failed in everything he attempted, everything he touched. He had failed even before he left, to convince his father to let him stay with him. Then he even failed to live up to his father's expectations. He hadn't even any friends to mourn his demise. There would be nothing for him at home but derision and scorn.
You are a failure. Bitterly, he accepted that as the truth. What would his father say when he returned… in disgrace?
The days dragged by as the ship flew across the broad ocean. Each day brought new dread. He did not want to return. Then, one night they were caught in a storm. In the dark of the night Coren stood against the rail, out of the way of the sailors as they tore down the sails and launched the life boats. Most of the passengers were below in safety, but it seemed the ship would not last out the night. As he stood staring down at the foaming sea a large wave crashed over the ship sweeping him off the deck. The last thing he thought was that he needn’t face his father’s anger and disappointment; and then the water closed over his head.
“He’ll fail the test…”
“What shall we do with him?”
“He doesn’t look like he has a greedy heart...”
“Give him a chance…”
Coren lifted his head slowly. He was lying on a sandy beach with two men looking down in him.
“Where is she?” he asked tremulously,
“Who?”
“Her. A Lady in Green. She was looking straight at me and telling me to come…”
“Sounds like the Fairie Queen.” the younger man laughed. “With all the sea water you swallowed I would be less surprised if you told me she had blue hair and a fish tail”
Coren stared at him. He was dark skinned with black hair and laughing eyes. He was a big man, in his thirties.
“I saw her,” Coren repeated insistently, “I did.”
“I’m sure.”
“Aw, leave him alone.” The other man spoke and Coren noticed him for the first time. He was much older, somewhat thin and wiry with scarce white hair.
“Go back to the village,” he said, “And find something useful to do.”
Smiling good naturedly the dark man left.
“Listen lad,” the older man said, coming closer and lowering his voice, “I know you were not dreaming.”
“You’ve seen her?” he cried,
“I don’t know whether I’ve seen her or not. But I’ve seen something and I mean to find it.”
“How?”
“I know the place where dreams live.”
“Dreams?”
“Real dreams. The kind that come and visit you and then leave you longing for something you can’t have.”
“Dreams…” he repeated the word in awe, trying to comprehend the portent of what he was saying. Dreams, real dreams, dreams that, when you caught them would be no longer mere fantasies but reality. He caught his breath sharply at the possibilities.
“Where?” he gasped; he didn’t see the self-satisfied smile on the old man’s face.
“Come,” he said, “I’ll show you.”
He led him to an old fortress on a cliff overlooking the sea.
“This is the place,” he said, “here they come at night when they think no one is watching. If you are quiet and still they will dance and reveal their true nature. And if you catch one, it will become yours.”
Coren walked into the center of the courtyard. The walls had crumbled over many years until all was a mere outline of what it had been. The old man reached into a chink in the wall and pulled out a flint and a candle.
“Watch.” He said. When he lit the candle a strange scent filled the air. Coren watched the flame flicker and dance, mesmerized. The light wavered and whirled around him and in it he saw a strange, wild, dance. He heard the old man laughing and in the midst of the flashing colorful points of light he saw the Lady in Green beckoning to him again.
“Hey, little fish.”
Coren raised his head and looked around in confusion. “Where is he?”
“Who? The Fairy King?” the black man laughed, “You really believe in that dream of yours don’t you.”
“Where is he? The old men who was with you when you found me.”
“I don’t know.”
“What is his name? Who is he?” he asked insistently,
“Look, little fish, don’t look at me like that.” He held up his hands in defense, “I have never seen him before. I thought he was a friend of yours.”
“How could he be a friend of mine?” Coren asked, standing angrily, “I don’t even know where I am.”
“Wait, where are you going?”
“To find him.”
“What did he do? Rob you? Come, sit down, and let it go. You’ll make yourself ill. You haven’t even eaten yet. I must say you do get around. I never expected to find you here, little fish.”
“Why must you call me a little fish?” Coren asked irritably turning back,
“What else am I to call you?” the man asked, spreading his hands, “You won’t stick around long enough for me to learn your name.”
Begrudgingly Coren came over and sat down. He was hungry, and the man was unpacking a picnic lunch from the basket he carried.
“My name is Coren.” He said, “Why do you think you need to take care of me?”
“My name is Stephen.” He said with a big grin, “And if I don’t take care of you, who will? I found you, which means I should take care of you. Right? Of course right, that’s the custom.”
“What is this land?” Coren asked a little more amiably,
“It’s called the Isle of Dreams.”
“What!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I mean- nothing.” He took a deep breath. “How do you leave here?”
“Leave?” Stephen frowned. “You don’t leave. Not unless you’re taken. Don’t meddle with the unknown Coren my friend. No one can pass the test; they always fail and then they are taken and cannot return. It is better to live peaceably, simple and happy.”
“I don’t understand riddles.” Coren said, frowning.
“That is good.” Was the unexpected answer, “Don’t look for the answer to the Unknown and you’ll do all right.”
He took him back to the village where he lived. The villagers regarded him with some surprise and a little hesitation.
“Will he stay?” a woman asked, Stephan nodded confidently.
“He’ll stay.” He answered, “He knows better.”
But that night after the big fire in the middle of the village had died to a low glimmer Coren stole silently from his hut. Everyone was asleep as he silently walked down the narrow path into the hills. He came to the fortress where all was dark and silent. He looked up to the great star-studded sky in longing.
“Are you the Fairie Queen?” he asked, “Where are you?”
He didn’t go back to the village. When dawn came the sun found him asleep on the hard stones again. Yet, when he awoke, he saw something that hadn’t been there before. In the center of the courtyard was a fountain raised up on some steps. Walking up to it Coren looked into the bowl. At its bottom was something shiny, a piece of silver or broken mirror or something. He reached to pick it up.
“He finally came.” Laughing she held out her hand to him. In surprise he turned around to see her seated in her great hall behind a long table. He maidens giggled behind their hands.
“Come on Coren.” She said, beckoning, “Don’t be so shy. This is what you wanted isn’t it? Isn’t this your dream?”
Hours, days, weeks, years, Coren didn’t know how long he spent with her, talking laughing, feasting, dancing. She told him many tales of great wealth and fortune and from these tales he had his idea.
“Why don’t I bring you some treasure?” he cried, “A gift for you and your maidens? This hall is plain and bare when it should be rich as a castle.”
She laughed and called him witty and bade him come and sit by her again. But his mind was stuck fast on the idea.
“Fine.” She said at last, “go. You know the way back.”
“Poor greedy fool,” she said to one of her maids as he left them, “They’re all the same.”
Her maidens giggled behind their hands.
“Coren, Coren. My friend. My little fish.”
Coren looked up dazedly.
“Where is she?” he asked,
“You always say that.” Stephen laughed, “If you ever say anything else I’ll know something is amiss. What are you doing up here? I told you not to meddle with the Unknown.”
“I saw her.” Coren said, “Why don’t you believe me?”
“Come back to the village.” Stephen said, pulling him to his feet, “It’s a nice day. We’ll go fishing.”
“Leave me alone.” Coren said, pulling away. “I’m going treasure hunting.”
“Treasure?” his eyes lit up. “You know where the treasure is?”
“It’s my treasure, not yours.” He snapped, “You don’t believe in Her, why would you believe in treasure?”
“There’s an old legend about treasure.” He explained, “There’s a legend about the Fairie Queen. If you prove one I’ll believe the other.”
“Oh, just go fish.” Coren cried impatiently, “I wish you would leave me alone.”
“All right.” Stephen answered quietly, hurt in his eyes. “All right little fish, if that’s what you want.”
“And quit calling me little fish.” Coren mumbled as he left. He didn’t understand why he suddenly felt so mean. He never asked anyone to look after him. But all the same, for a minute he felt like running after his friend and telling him he was sorry. Then they could go fishing together. Just in time he caught himself. He had more important things to do.
He found the treasure, vast, vast treasure, right where she said it would be. Gold, jewels, necklaces, pearls; he caught up some of it as gifts for her and her maidens vowing to return for more. Then he returned to the fortress and to her hall.
He didn’t know that Stephen was watching and following him. He didn’t know that his friend loved gold. But when Stephen saw him walk up to the fountain and disappear, he followed him.
“Why Coren,” she cried, “How nice of you! Who is your friend? We have not seen him before. Introduce us please. It will be delightful to have you both.”
Angrily Coren whirled on him.
“What are you doing here?” he cried jealously, “no one invited you. Go back to your village and your simplistic, happy life.” He spoke mockingly, heedless of the shock on his friend’s face but his words were choked out by the rushing water. He struggled even to breath as the waves closed over his head.
“He failed the test…”
“What shall we do with him?”
“His heart is not greedy…”
“Give him another chance…”
“His uncle is the greediest man alive. I should never have trusted him.”
Coren lifted his head slowly at the sound of the decisive voice. He was lying on a sandy beach with two men looking down in him.
“Where is she?” he asked tremulously,
“Who?”
“Her. A Lady in Green. She was speaking to me and I failed the test…”
“Sounds like the Fairie Queen.” the younger man laughed. “With all the sea water you swallowed I would be less surprised if you told me she had blue hair and a fish tail”
Coren stared at him. He was dark skinned with black hair and laughing eyes. He was a big man, in his thirties.
“I saw her,” Coren repeated insistently, “I did.”
“Coren.” The older man interrupted and Coren notice him for the first time.
“Coren.”
He took a step forward and Coren sat up, not daring to believe.
“They told me your ship was lost, they told me you were dead. Oh Coren, don’t you remember me?”
“Father.” He breathed the word.
“Oh Coren, I should have never sent you away. I should have kept you here where you belong. I should never have trusted that miserly brother of mine. I have never been so angry in my life as when I got his letter. Imagine him talking like that of my son.”
Coren stood; trembling.
“Oh father, I was so afraid. Afraid you would be disappointed, would reject me, because I had failed…” he was in his arms, weeping, afraid again. Afraid he was dreaming. Maybe he would wake up and find himself… in Her hall.
“Failure is something we all face.” His father was saying, “But we learn from it. It is only through our mistakes that we can be triumphant.”
Then Coren knew he was not dreaming. He turned to the other man who stood at a respectful distance watching.
“Who is this?” he asked,
“Ah.” His father smiled, “this is Stephen, one of the men from the village. He found you.”
Coren smiled and held out his hand in greeting.
“My name is Coren,” he said, “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“As I am pleased to meet you,” he answered, taking it, “My little fish.”
