(Author's Note: They don't mention the name of Prydain's first king in the movie, so for context he was King Rhydderch Hael. He was the one who threw the Horned King's evil predecessor into the black cauldron alive (his face is the one on the cauldron in the movie). His sword, Dyrnwyn, is one of the thirteen treasures of the Island of Britain; that's the sword Taran found in the tomb. Legend has it that King Rhydderch Hael- nicknamed "The Generous"- would let anyone use his sword, but the sword would reject all who were unworthy. This is crucial information for this story later. Hope you're still enjoying it!)
Doli guided me to the marshes, muttering to himself the whole way. I honestly didn't blame him for not wanting to come here; the place was absolutely dismal. Dead forestry and moulding logs everywhere. Heh, would have reminded me of home if I was that cynical.
"Well, here you are: the marches of Morva," Doli spat with attitude. "Where are the witches?" I hadn't seen a living soul since we left the land of the fair folk. "You knucklehead! Can't you see what's right in front of you?" "What do you mean? I don't see any-….." The words vanished from my lips when I caught sight of this terrifying wooden hut not too far in front of me. What an awful-looking shack. Skulls of various kinds were propped up by wooden sticks; there was a strange symbol painted on the door; the place looked deserted.
"Doli, are you sure that's where they live?" I inquired very, very nervously. "Well who else do you think gonna live there?" He countered sharply. I hesitantly approached the front door; my first instinct was to knock. My hand gently tapped on the door a few times; I wasn't sure if I wanted to do more. There was this sudden and very frightening cackling from the inside, making me stumble back a little. The door swung open, though there was no one on the other side to open it. Doli and I looked at each other before I made myself step forward.
"H-Hello, is anyone there?" Even more sinister cackling erupted all around me. We saw tons of little eyes, all spying on us from the shadows. Aside from them, which all seemed too small to be human-sized eyes, there was no one else in sight- at first. The cackling continued, growing louder and louder until three figures began to materialize. Doli let out a shriek and disappeared into thin air. My eyes went from his abrupt absence to the now three bluish green-skinned women encircling me. The skinny one with gangly hair spoke first, twisting and twirling her fingers together in a delighted fashion.
"Well, well, what have we here?" 'Why, it's a little girl," the short, lanky one exclaimed. The big, nice-looking one gave me a once over. "Mmmmm, and what a pretty girl. She must be a princess!" "Oh, come off it. Not every pretty girl is a princess, Orwen," the tall one brushed her off with a wave of the hand. "I bet she is," the big one- I guess her name was Orwen- hummed wistfully.
"I-I've come to ask about the black cauldron!" I managed to stammer out; it felt safer to ask sooner than later. "You think we owe you any answers, you impertinent girl?" The tall one hissed. "N-No, of course not! I just thought…." "We should turn her into a frog and eat her; she looks like she'll make a tasty meal," the short one suggested. While a look of horror rolled over my face, Orwen countered this. "She's too pretty to turn into an amphibian. Let's turn her into a flower instead and keep her by the windowsill." "Bah! I'm not going to let you ruin a good dinner because of your sentimentalities," the short one retorted. "But what if she is a princess? You can't eat royalty." "Says who?" Oh my god, this is getting nowhere, and I don't have time for this. While I was still scared out of my wits, the realization that time was of the essence kicked my mouth into gear.
"Please! I need your help! I need to know where the Horned King's castle is and how to get my father out of the black cauldron!" I pleaded, clasping both my hands together. They all blinked to me with surprise. "You're father? What does he have to do with the black cauldron?" "Yeah. The black cauldron is with the Horned King now," the short one added. "I know! That's why I need to find his castle." The three weird sisters glanced ponderingly at each other.
"You're not from around here, are you?" The tall one questioned me. I shook my head. "No. I've never been to Prydain before." "Then how do you know about the black cauldron?" Orwen inquired. "The Horned King used it to imprison all adults off of Prydain….. Wait, how come he didn't capture you? Was it only adults outside the island?" "Course! No one disappeared here. Why would the Horned King capture his own subjects? He must have wanted your parents for his army," the tall one explained. "And you three…. know about the black cauldron's magic?" I asked. That's when the short one gave me a knowing grin. "Who do you think gave the Horned King the cauldron?" She said, making my jaw drop somewhat. Her sisters began to laugh again.
"You know, I like this one; she's got guts." "Much better than that boy and girl with pig," Orwen tacked on. "So you've come to Prydain to save your father from the Horned King?" The tall one asked, crossing her arms. "Yes; him and all the other adults," I nodded. "And is it your own choice, duckling?" I nodded again, then sucked in my lips. "It is, but I have no idea how to get them out of the cauldron once I find it. That's what I wanted to ask you about."
The three witches glanced to one another once more. Then all sets of eyes- and not just theirs- were back onto me. "Well, you can't just reach in and pull your daddy out," the short one waggled her finger. "No, it's a magic cauldron. Once something's inside, it can never come out," Orwen illuminated. "Not unless an appropriate sacrifice is made," the tall one told me. "Sacrifice?" My eyebrow raised. They nodded in unison. Then the tall one turned so to face me head on.
"Now listen closely. The black cauldron can never be destroyed. Only it's evil powers can be stopped. The evil of cauldron is what keeps the adults trapped inside. In order to release them, you must make a sacrifice and stop the cauldron's evil magic." "What kind of sacrifice?" I asked. She hesitated for a moment before going on. "A living being must climb into it of her own free will. However, whom so ever climbs into the cauldron will die, never to come out alive." Climb into the cauldron…. My eyes wandered out into space for a moment as I considered this new information. My lips parted a bit. "If I…. jumped into the cauldron, would that bring all the adults back?" "That would suffice, yes. But remember, duckling; once you jump into the cauldron, your body will be ripped to shreds by the darkness that lay within, and you will cease to exist on earth." I thought for another moment, then stood up and brushed myself off. I grinned at them for the first time.
"Thank you, ladies. I know what I have to do now," I was about to head for the door when… "Now hold on, there may be some help for you in your journey yet," the short one stopped me. "Help?" My head spun back to them. They nodded, a bit lighter this time. "First we must see if you are worthy," the tall one then proclaimed. "Worthy? But you never said the person who jumped into the cauldron had to be "worthy"." "Oh, we're not talking about that." "You're not? Then what are you….?" My question was cut short by the big sister suddenly blowing dust on me; it literally came out of nowhere on the palm of her hand. I started to cough and didn't stop for a full minute or so. My eyes winced shut so to avoid any dust flying into them. I closed my eyes, and the world around me suddenly grew foggy and tired. I don't know when I fell unconscious, but I did at some point. I know this because the next time I opened my eyes, I was no longer in Prydain.
"Wake up! Wake up, I say!" That voice…. I knew that voice from somewhere, but I couldn't put my finger on it. "Nugh, my head," I groaned, lifting my hand up to my forehead. I felt bad but not as bad as the time I almost drowned in the sea. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw this small, little, brown old perched over me. He was watching me with worry and intent. This made my eyes widen severely.
"Archimedes, it's you!" "And I should think this is the last place I'd find you. I thought you were going to look for your father," he folded his feathered wings. "Where are we?" I sat up a bit. I found myself laying in a bank of snow on a street…. somewhere I've never been before. I'd never seen anything like it; I couldn't even think up a place like this. Tall houses and building made of painted wood and stone. Brightly coloured tents and banners; horse stables; a jousting ring. It was like falling into a literal storybook. I suppose I should have known where I was, but my mind was drawing a blank. It also didn't occur to me that this was my first experience with snow. My body felt cold, but I didn't pay that any mind.
Archimedes stayed close to me, obviously worried about my welfare and mental state. "We're in London in the Dark Ages," he informed me. "London?! Dark Ages?!" I blinked to him gobsmacked. Why…. why would those witches send me here- of all places and times? I literally had no connection to this country or time period whatsoever. The Greek side of my family stems back much further than this. My lips just kept spattering uncontrollably. I mean, I tried so hard to get to Prydain, and now I have no idea where or when I even am. I think I was in a state of shock more than anything, which explains why I hadn't started crying yet.
Despite being in the alleged Dark Ages, there was no one around in London either. I guess this proves that the black cauldron's magic can go travel across time and space, all things considered. After some time trying to register my new location in my brain, I got to my feet and brushed the snow off my clothes. Archimedes watched me the whole time.
"W-Why am I here? I-I don't…. I don't understand….." "This was the day of the tournament." "What tournament?" I asked the flustered owl. "The New Year's Day tournament; the one to decide the next king of England," Archimedes said. "They're deciding their next future king by a jousting tournament?" And here I thought the Greeks had some odd traditions. Archimedes raised his wing a bit. "Think, girl, think. Why would we both just appear here like that? There must be a reason." "You know this city, Archimedes. Why do you think we're here? I don't know anything about London or the Dark Ages!" My hand planted on my chest.
But for the first time Archimedes wasn't looking at me; he was looking into this abandoned churchyard. "That's bizarre," he gasped. "What?" "The sword, it's back in the stone," he pointed to something. I looked to see this sword stuck in a stone in the middle of the yard. "What about it?" I then blinked back to the owl confused. "Well Arthur pulled it out. That's what made him king." "Oh… So then why is it back in the stone? Who's sword was that anyway?" "I can't remember his name, but he was referred to as "the generous". He was a good and noble king, apparently." "Huh," I had no desire to approach or touch the sword; my mind was still focused on how the heck do I get myself outta here.
"Think, girl. You must know some reason why we're both here." "I don't know! The only thing I can think of is….. Wait," I paused briefly as I recalled the witches last words to me. My lips clambered a little. "Those witches…." "Who?" Archimedes questioned. "The witches back in Morva; they wanted to test if I was "worthy" or not." "Worthy of what?" "I….. don't know? Help with getting my father back…. But how are they supposed to test that here of all places? What does London have to do with anything?"
Archimedes considered this seriously. "I haven't the faintest. The only test of worth I know around here is…" His beak halted as if he wanted to catch himself. I looked at him curiously; he clearly was about to say something. "Is what, Archimedes?" "Well, erm…." and his eyes trailed back to the sword resting in the stone. My eyes lowered unimpressed.
"The sword?" "It's the only one I can think of. It's supposed to determine the worthiness of one who is fit to be king of England." "But I don't want to be king of England; I just want to get back to Prydain and find the black cauldron. Argh! I don't get any of this! We're just wasting time!" I threw my arms up into the air. The owl thought to himself again for a moment. He looked at me with his large yellow and black eyes.
"Why don't you give it a try?" "Try what?" "Pulling the sword from the stone." "What'll that prove? I don't want a sword; I have no need for a sword." "It's not about whether you need it. It's about whether you can wield it or not- only the worthiest can wield the sword of the late king." My fingers scratched my head as I gazed back at the blade. None of this still made any sense to me. "I still don't see why me pulling a sword out of a stone- if I can at all- means anything. Arthur's meant to pull the sword; not me." "Just give it a try. You're supposed to perform a test, right?" I thought it over for a minute, not entirely convinced. "Where did Arthur put the sword after he pulled it out from the stone?" "In the old king's tomb, though he wasn't buried here in England. He went somewhere else to fight another king before he died, I think." "I see….." It didn't strike me at the time that Archimedes might be talking about Prydain.
As I approached the sword, I mulled over how stupid and what a time waste this all was. I couldn't see any sense in my doing this. Like he was reading my mind, Archimedes flew over to perch himself on my shoulder as I walked into the churchyard. "Think of it this way. If I'm wrong, you'll only be wasting a few minutes of your time. What have you got to lose?" I suppose he's right, but this was the test to crown the next king of England- not prove someone's worthiness to some witches elsewhere.
Archimedes then went to sit on a branch very close by and I stepped up to the sword. It was a pretty fancy sword, and sharp too- despite sitting in a rock for who knows how long. On one side read an inscription about "who shallth pullth this sword…" and what not; on the other side was a name. "Dyrnwyn," I read it out loud to myself. Never heard of it before. Arthur never divulged the name of his sword. The owl watched with anticipation as my right hand lifted up out in front of me. Well, here goes nothing.
I'll be honest; I wasn't expecting anything to happen- not a single thing. But from the moment the tips of my fingers touched the top of the sword, the handle began to sparkle. This bright, warm light broke through the clouds in the sky, shining down onto me in a straight line. I immediately stopped, yanking my hand back and stumbling backwards a few steps. Archimedes, who now had gigantic eyes, encouraged me to keep going. "No, no! That's supposed to happen!" Boy, did he sound enthusiastic. Trusting in him, I reluctantly went to the sword a second time. This time, I wrapped both hands around the handle; the light and sparkles returned in the blink of an eye. It wasn't difficult- shockingly- to pull the sword out of the stone. It was so easy in fact, that I flew myself backwards some way. I heard Archimedes laughing, and that's the last thing I heard.
My eyes shut, only for that all-too-familiar tired and heavy feeling to sweep over me. It was like swiftly falling to sleep. When next I opened my eyes, I found myself laying on the ground of the marsh. I was back in Morva, with no signs of the witches' cottage or the sword I just pulled. With a moan, I sat up, resting my right hand against my forehead. "What was the point of all that?" I uttered bitterly to myself. That's when my hand lowered itself a bit and I saw something marked in the palm of my hand. On the right hand, the first hand I touched the sword with, was a marking; like it was tattooed or branded into my skin. I didn't recognize it at all. It was a mixture of squiggles and lines, though I did manage to make out a "RH" at the centre of it.