The light from the fires behind him illuminated the first few stones, worn smooth by generations. Merlyn took a step gingerly, bare feet gripping the floor. Ahead of them was an inky blackness so deep it seemed to draw the firelight into its depths with greed. A brush against his shoulder had him jerking to the side in shock, but it was only Gwyn, the other boy's face filled with awe. Merlyn shot a look back over his shoulder to see Brisen still by the entrance, shifting her weight from foot to foot. 

"It'll be okay," he assured her, gesturing deeper into the cave. The air was becoming warmer and more humid, trapped deep within the earth. The sound of dripping water deeper in sent chills up his spine despite the warmth, and he hadn't even noticed Brisen moving closer to him until she brushed his arm with her fingers. They were almost deep enough into the cave for all remaining traces of light to be devoured by shadow, so he couldn't see her expression. But he felt her nervousness, and Gwyn's sudden curiosity, and the blood pumping through his veins.

 He felt the ground beneath him, moist and wonderfully alive. His head was swimming-- it must have been the tea. The mixture on his forehead was drying and itchy now, and he wrinkled his forehead to make it crack, flakes of the herbs falling down onto his cheeks. Up a few paces ahead of them, Merlyn could hear Gwyn's footsteps. He followed the sound around a bend in the stone, wall of rock slick under his fingertips. Too slick. His feet slid out from beneath him and he flailed wildly, crashing into the darkness with a shout. His hip hit the ground with bruising force and he let out a yelp. Seconds later warm, urgent hands pressed against his skin. "Are you okay?" It was Brisen. 

Then another pair of hands, these trembling, joined hers against his chest. "Can you get up?" Gwyn's voice was shockingly strong, and as Merlyn let out a gasping breath, the trembling stopped. "Let me help you stand," Gwyn continued, hands sliding through the herb paste on his collar bone to his shoulders, lifting him up. Brisen's smaller hands steadied him against his back, and for a moment the three stood there in the womb of the earth, breathing in relief. "You could have seriously gotten hurt, Merlyn," Brisen said, her hands leaving his skin. He shrugged, goosebumps raising on his arms at the sudden lack of a source of warmth. 

Gwyn's hands left him too, but the boy's soft voice whispered in his ear. "The drwyds know the answers to the earth. We have to listen," he said, footsteps padding away into the gloom. Merlyn swallowed, and started after him. The only thing letting him know Brisen had fallen into step next to him was her soft chuckle. "See? I told you to give him a chance," she murmured so Gwyn couldn't hear. Merlyn laughed back, the sound echoing harshly from wall to wall. Pebbles scattering ahead of them warned that Gwyn had come to a stop. 

"I think I see something!" he called, voice pitched high with excitement. The air around them was filled with energy so thick Merlyn thought he could taste it on his tongue if he tried hard enough. He still felt sore from his fall, but he followed after Gwyn's voice. As he neared, his eyes began to make out something in the dark. Light. Glow worms clung to the ceiling, and in their glow, Merlyn could make out Gwyn's wide smile. He chuckled, and the glow worms blinked out at the noise, leaving them in the darkness. Back in the gloom, Merlyn's eyes began to feel heavy. And heavier. And heavier. Until he lowered himself to the stone on weakened knees. "Brisen? Gwyn?"

He called desperately into the silence that had overtaken them. No answer. The air pressed in around him from all corners. He was swallowed by the earth, and utterly alone. He didn't even stop to think where the others could have possibly gone, the mugwort tea was making it hard to focus. Eyes slipping all the way closed, and as he listed to one side to lean against a rock, he heard a sparrow twittering in the dark. Then fluttering of wings. And footsteps. Heart thumping, but body lacking the energy to move, he lay on the hard stone, struggling to lift his eyelids.

 Then hands patted his arm and he flinched. "Shhhh," an unfamiliar voice said. It wasn't Brisen or Gwyn. Merlyn opened his mouth to ask who was there but a soft finger pressed to his lips. "On gossomar wing the faerie flies, or so they say but those are lies. We dance amidst the gods at night, and with dawn's kiss leave their sight," the voice said, lilting and feminine. Merlyn stilled, mind whirling. Faerie? he thought, still trying to sit up. The faerie shifted, and the soft warmth of lips pressed on his eyelids once, then twice. Then he blinked and could see around him.

 No light permeated the cave, but somehow he was able to make out a long face with large, catlike eyes. The faerie tilted their head like a bird, soft layers of chestnut brown hair floating weightlessly around them. A cloak of brown and red feathers draped across their shoulders, and they wore hose of kidskin, twists of silver glittering across arms, wrists, and neck. "You want to be a drwyd?" the faerie asked. Merlyn nodded, wide eyed. 

A smile revealed pale as moonstone teeth, glinting sharply in the not-light. "The others are asleep in their dreamings already. You, little one, have something extra to do if you want to leave here...whole." There was a note of humor in the genderless voice, but Merlyn shivered at the words. "What do you mean?" he blurted out, despite the earlier warnings. The faerie frowned, blinking at him. "Merlyn, oh Merlyn, how silly. Don't you know the forest lives in you even more than you drwyd father? Your true father is a god of sunlight, born of summer's heat are you. Your mother..." the creature trailed off, staring at him expressionless. 

Merlyn swallowed thickly. His mother had died in childbirth. "Your mother," the faerie repeated, "had hidden the secret well. You have one foot in this world, and one foot in the other. Just like your godling friend, Taliesin. He was not always so. But the Awen glimmers in his veins now. He has watched you your whole life, knowing, seeing you, even as infants. It is time to claim your inheritance."