Three Brothers and a Draug, July 2014 |
Three Brothers and a Draug
There were once three brothers. Their names were Marinus,
Pontius and Pelagius, and apart from their names they were identical down to
the very last detail. Each had short red hair, each had pale green flesh and
glossy, emerald-coloured scales. When they spoke and when they sang, you could
not have told the difference. Whether they danced on two legs or swam by tail,
they remained perfect copies of each other.
They lived together in a house with three of everything, and
had much fun being identical brothers, for it was rare and they were much
admired for it. Their identical nature also allowed them to play many tricks,
and it is for these tricks that this story is told.
We Siren-folk, as you know, enjoy going to the surface, to
sing in places where the sea meets the land. The three brothers lived near a
wonderful cove where they liked to clamber onto the rocks and sing with the
wind. It was a popular place with all folk from their area.
However, one day, unexpected problems appeared, in the form
of a Draug.
The Draug sailed back and forth across the cove in his
half-boat. His skin was pale, his hair a writhing mass of grey and his eyes
white as though blind. The Draug was a spectre, but his presence unnerved
everybody. Hhe was an ill omen for any that laid eyes upon him, and he was a
fiendish fellow who would have drowned all Siren onlookers had they been unable
to breathe beneath the water.
Indeed, when the days became warmer, and Land-walkers came
to the beach, the Draug began to catch them unawares.
The three brothers were especially troubled by the presence
of the Draug, because they liked the Land-walkers. They watched the
ghost-sailor force unwitting mortals to race him across the cove. Of course,
his unearthly boat always moved much faster than they could, and the three
brothers saw many a soul being carried away by the wicked Draug, as a dying
mortal body sank into the depths of their sea.
The dead became a problem, for the folk of those parts were
unaccustomed to dealing with so many deceased Land-walkers sinking into their
territory. A large hole was dug into the sea bed, and each day another body was
found within the town and interred within the hole.
Gradually, the Land-walkers began to realise that the cove
was unsafe, and stopped going there.
Marinus, Pontius and Pelagius mourned the absence of the
Land-walkers, for they were interesting creatures. The Draug was a pest and it
was high time somebody got rid of it.
Being the bold sort, the three brothers decided that
somebody should be them.
“How shall we defeat the Draug?” Marinus wondered.
“We have to beat him in a race,” said Pontius.
“But it is impossible to match the Draug’s speed,” said Pelagius. “If we should lose, we lose our lives and the Draug takes our souls to the Otherworld, and we shall be doomed.”
“We have to beat him in a race,” said Pontius.
“But it is impossible to match the Draug’s speed,” said Pelagius. “If we should lose, we lose our lives and the Draug takes our souls to the Otherworld, and we shall be doomed.”
The three brothers fell silent as they contemplated this
problem. As they were so identical, even in thought, they reached a conclusion
– the precise same conclusion – at the same time.
“Ah, maybe if we...” began Marinus.
Pontius nodded. “Yes, definitely.”
“It has to work,” agreed Pelagius. “But who shall approach
the Draug?”
They drew lots to decide which of them would have the task
of approaching the Draug, and it turned out that the task would fall to
Pontius.
“Wish me luck!” he said, and set off in search of the ghoul.
As it happened, the Draug was sailing upon the water, near
the rocks where the three brothers liked to sit and sing.
“Hie, Draug!” Pontius called.
The spectre turned his gaze to the siren, eyes gleaming
eerily. “Yes?” it hissed. “You dare to address me?”
“Yes!” Pontius nodded. “I want to challenge you to a race.”
At the mention of a race, the Draug became more interested.
“A race? I accept your challenge. When you lose, I shall take your soul.”
“If I lose, I shall. But if I win, you must leave here
forever.”
“I agree to your terms,” the Draug replied, without
deliberation. “We shall race across the cove at midnight by the height of the
moon. Say your goodbyes, for tomorrow you shall be gone.”
“Or perhaps you will. Until midnight then, Draug.”
At midnight, just as agreed, the Draug was waiting at one
side of the cove. But it was not Pontius who went to meet him. It was Pelagius,
so identical to his brother that the Draug did not notice the difference.
The Draug glowed in the moonlight, spookier than ever.
“Hie, Draug!” exclaimed Pelagius. “I am ready to race!”
“Then we shall be off.”
The race began: the Draug in his half-boat and Pelagius
swimming furiously through the water. But no matter how fast Pelagius swam, the
Draug in his boat was faster.
Almost halfway across the cove, the ghoul laughed, certain
of his success. He had not seen the Siren pass him. But suddenly someone bobbed
out of the water ahead of him, beyond the halfway point. Glancing back, the
Siren called out: “Hie, Draug! I hope you’re ready to leave!”
The Draug frowned and sped on as the Siren ducked back
beneath the water, swimming as fast as he could. None but the three brothers
knew this swimmer was not Pelagius, who had begun the race, but Marinus, who
had been waiting halfway across the cove, until the Draug’s half-boat neared.
But the Draug, with his unearthly speed, soon overtook
Marinus. Again the Draug laughed. He was close to the other side of the cove now,
and had overtaken the Siren so long ago that it would be impossible for him to
catch up.
Proud, the Draug stood up as he neared the end of the race.
But an astonishing sight awaited the ghost.
For upon the rock sat the very Siren who had challenged him,
hair dripping wet and expression lazy.
“Hie, Draug!” Pontius waved. “I thought you would never get
across that cove. You are so slow!”
“This is impossible!” exclaimed the Draug. “I should have
won.”
“You lost. I beat you,” Pontius said. “And now you must
leave this place forever.”
The Draug grumbled. But an agreement was an agreement, and
when it came to ghosts, an agreement was law.
The veil between the worlds opened. As the Draug began to
sail through on his half-boat, he turned back to Pontius. “How?!” he demanded.
Then, in the distance, the Draug saw two heads pop up above
the waves: two Siren identical to the one who had beaten him. The Draug
realised he had been tricked, and screamed with race.
“Tricksters!” he yelled. “I shall take you all to the
Otherworld!”
The Draug stamped his foot so hard that he upset his boat
and fell right overboard.
The Draug screamed again and disappeared. He was no more,
for a Draug separated from his boat was dead for good.
And so, the corpse that had once been a Draug was the last
body to be buried in the big pit in the sea bed.
The three identical brothers lived long and prosperous lives off the
story of how they defeated the Draug. Identical down to the very last detail.
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