Blydig Gryyfth had black hair and eyes dark as rotting plums. As he grew older, his limbs bunched with muscle though he did not grow taller. He hated the forest, hated the trees and the sky itself. His chief amusement was staring, which could do forever. He never smiled, never laughed. In fact, he barely spoke at all.
His parents were not like him. They were fair and merry, tall and well-made. Try as they might, they could not love him.
They began to suspect he was a Bendith y Mamau, their own golden son stolen from the cradle by the Tylwyth Teg. They sometimes stayed wakeful far into the night, puzzling in whispers over what they should do.
A passing traveler confirmed their worst suspicions, for he had seen such changelings before.
There was but one thing to do. They must take him to the priests at Pentre Ifan.
Pentre Ifan is an ancient dolman of seven giant stones placed on the site around 3500 BC by the ancient people of Wales. At one time all the stones were standing, but only a handful remain upright today.
The standing stones have been the object of archaeological intrigue for hundreds of years. Archaeologists believe the site may have been built during two separate time periods with the ancient burial chambers being installed first.
They may have been a ritual purpose to the site such as Druidical sacrifice, but this is mere speculation since few artifacts have been discovered at the site.
Wonder what the priests can do.
I assume they will strap the lad to the stones and slit his throat.
A dark tale. It doesn’t do to be different from other people.
This is great. I was going to do my story on a changeling too! But now I’m not sure if I want to because it sucks in comparison to yours.
Love, love, love the first paragraph, Josh. The second paragraph makes for a nice contrast with the first. What a story.
They have stones like this in Ireland, too! I love your comparison of Blydig Gryyfth to the shape of the structure.
Interesting story… and what a comment about what we do to people who do not fit the ‘norm’… Great write!
That’s great! I want to know what happens next….
Dear Josh,
“…eyes as dark as rotting plums.” Quite the visual that. Well written and intriguing. Love this story.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Full of Celtic brooding presence, emanating from the standing stones- liked the sense of place very much. Perfect setting for the changeling. Good story.
I was fixated on the same “eyes as dark as rotting plums” too. I suspect the priests will exorcise him all evil spirits… Not that they think they are doing anything wrong…
I don’t fancy Blydig’s chances much. Unless he can stare the priests into submission.
AS others have said, lovely descriptive passage about Blydig – I can imagine the brooding solidity of him. Just a lovely piece with good pace and intrigue. I heard of a woman suspected of being a changeling who was murdered by her husband in the hope his ‘real’ wife would be returned to him. These ideas ran deep for a very long time. Beautifully told Josh
Wonderful descriptions. Dark and great tale.