The Chalice Well - A Greyfolk Tale

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This is a Halloween/Samhain trans story

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He sat there on the edge of the chalice well lost in his thoughts. The slight ripple on the reddish brown water seemed to have a hypnotic calming effect on him. He was grateful for the respite. He had cupped his hands under the lion's head spout and tasted the water. He had heard it could cure a number of things.

It couldn't cure what he had. His memories stirred like an ancient slumbering giant bent on causing destruction. The scene played out in his head.

Five years old.

"Mum, why can't be a girl like Katey?"

"What did you say!!"

"I said why can't be a girl mum?"

"Don't give me that shit. You are a boy and will grow to be a useless man just like your good-for-nothing father."

"But... but..."

"Be grateful you are a boy. Men are bloody awful, but they can be useful for a few things. Grow up, you have to be the man of the house now your father has pissed off. Don't let me down."

Tears welled up in Tim's eyes. He bit his lip and the pain made him even more determined not to cry. He idolized his big sister. He wanted to be just like her. He loved the way she smelled, the way she dressed and looked. Why wouldn't he want to be like her?

He couldn't understand why the boys at school never liked to play with the girls. He asked his friend Terry if they could go and play with the girls at lunch. Terry asked him if he was a sissy. Tim didn't know what that meant. Terry said his brother said it was a boy that acted like a girl. This confused Tim. What was so bad about acting like a girl?

As his mother walked away in disgust, the look on her face said it all. Boys who wanted to be girls were horrible. He made up his mind never to say that again. He was going to be the best man he could be.

That is just what he did. He had joined the army at 17 for 3 years. He was small, at 5ft 7 inches, but wiry. After the army he joined the metropolitan police force. London is a very diverse city and his work brought him into contact with trans women sometimes. No matter how hard he tried to suppress that side of him, it was always there. The wall he built as a child to keep that side of his personality was wearing down.

He had taken a statement from a beautiful goth trans woman whose lover had beaten her and stolen her car. He knew he could not ask her how it felt to live as a woman. He knew it was very unprofessional, but could not resist.

She had smiled at him and gave him a knowing look, and said.

"It's like having a long hard day at work. It's the feeling of relief you get when you finally walk through the front door you know you are finally home."

His wall crumbled a little more.

The last few years had been the worst. His mother had died and his sister had moved to the USA with her family. The voice behind the wall whispered that there was no one to let down now.

He took early retirement at 50. Now he traveled and visited historical sites and interesting places. Having never married he had saved a lot of money. His police pension was very generous, so money was never an issue,.

He had joined a local pagan group for something to do. He was not a particular believer in any religion, but he had the sense that there was something more. Something just out of reach.

The chalice well at Glastonbury had been on his list to visit. It was at least two thousand years and it had never failed even during drought. Iron oxide deposits give water a reddish hue, and it was said to have magical properties.

Christian mythology said that Chalice Well marks the site where Joseph of Arimathea placed the chalice that had caught the drops of Christ's blood at the Crucifixion. The red of the water is also said by some Christians to represent the rusty iron nails used at the Crucifixion.

All this in Glastonbury, a town steeped in history and mysticism.

~o~O~o~

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Now at 53, he realized that he had lived his life for others, never for himself. He was old and lonely. He thought of what the Goth had said and the wall came tumbling down.

His inner voice now screamed in his head that there was still time. No, he thought, what would people think? His emotions overwhelmed him and for the first time since that day with his mother, the tears began to flow.

He bent over as he sobbed and gasped for air. His tears dripped from his face into the pool. He did not hear the woman in the white robe as she approached from behind.

Her name was Sky, she was a member of the Glastonbury Goddess Temple. She had stopped by the well on her way to the sunset ceremony for Samhain.

"Excuse me. Are you alright sir?"

Some say water has memory. The tears that fell into the clouded water of the pools seemed to have. Deep beneath Glastonbury Tor, in a cave that was neither in our world or the world of the Greyfolk, a shimmering mist appeared. The blue light grew as a form slowly emerged from the mist.

~o~O~o~

Branwen, Goddess of Avalon had felt the pain of the hotblood above. She was moved to help. She sent her spirit through the earth and rock and saw the hotbloods in the garden.

"WAIT!"

Branwen opened her eyes and saw a bright shining golden mist coalescing into an impressive male figure. It was the King of the Greyfolk

"What do you want." She spat.

The solid figure gave off a golden glow. Combined with the blue light given off by Branwen, much more of the chamber was now illuminated.

Branwen glanced around to make sure all was as it should be. She saw the throne with the sleeping figure of Joseph of Arimathea slumped over to one side. At his feet lay the warrior King Arthur clutching the sword Excalibur. The floor was littered with warriors waiting to be called upon in Britain's hour of need.

"I am King of the Greyfolk. Your Lord and Master."

"You're no King of mine. I am the Goddess of Avalon. You are in my realm. I have authority here."

"If you use your power you risk waking the sleepers. Do you realize the consequences of that?"

A golden fire crackled behind his eyes as he stared at her.

"I helped Merlin cast this spell, they will remain sleeping. I know what I am doing."

Branwen was beautiful, but the sheer force of her beauty shone hard like a physical force the King shrank back a little.

"If you do this, the hotbloods will suspect. Most of their priests are fools, but some have real power. Some that serve the one he does can harm us."

The King pointed to Joseph of Arimathea.

Branwen laughed.

"Is the mighty King afraid? You interfere and torture hotbloods all the time. One in particular I understand."

"Yes, I need some amusement, but I am careful not to leave a trail. Do you know how many billions of followers his god has? It is not just one hotblood religion. Do you understand how much power that will give those hotbloods who can weald all that belief? Merlin was just one. Look at the damage he caused."

Branwen thought. It was hundreds of hotblood years, but a mere flicker for her.

"Yes, I remember the time of saints. The losses on our side. The death of dragons. So few remain in their realm now."

"So you will do nothing?"

"No, he is above Avalon. His fate is mine to decide."

The King growled and grew in size as the golden light he gave off filled the cave.

Branwen raised her arms and shimmered with raw power ready to defend herself.

"There will be consequences Branwen. We are enemies now."

The golden light faded and the King was gone. Branwen reached out again through the rock and earth.

~o~O~o~

"Excuse me. Are you alright sir?"

Sky was just about to touch the man's shoulder when she heard the stream from the lion's head splutter and stop. She turned to see the flow had stopped completely. How she thought. This had been flowing her whole life. A gargling noise came from the lion's mouth and the water coughed and spluttered and returned to its normal flow.

She turned back to the kneeling man. She thought she saw a blue light fading into his body.

"Are you OK sir? You were crying?"

As the man turned, she saw it wasn't a man at all. It was the radiant face of a happy, laughing woman, smiling back at her.

"Oh, sorry Miss. I thought you were crying. I can see now you were laughing. Care to share?"

"Nothing really. It's just for the first time in my life I feel like I am finally home."

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Comments

Nice bit of poetry

I can see the touches of yourself in it.

Plus, if you drink enough brown ferrous water , you will always point north.

Ron

Yes, there is some truth in

leeanna19's picture

Yes, there is some truth in that. The idea just came to me while driving home yesterday.

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Leeanna

Never thought of that

We are indeed hot bloods. And despite color, creed, male or female we are all people and face the world's challenges the same. So why should sex or color matter? I don't generally read magic or fairy stories but just like superhero stories, sometimes one will, just like this one, will capture me and transport me. Thank you Leeanna.

>>> Kay

Thanks Kay. I don't normally

leeanna19's picture

Thanks Kay. I don't normally read or writ magic stories. In fact I said once I never would. I like my stories to be believable mostly. I wrote one about the Greyfolk and it was popular on here.

Sometimes I struggle to write sex stories like I usually do. I spent most of last weekend dressed and acting as Leeanna and my creative energy just came out differently.

To "get" the story completely, you need to have read or listened to Pilgrim by Sebastian Baczkiewicz. He has a wonderful take on the 'faerie' or Greyfolk. Really is worth a listen.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/brand/b071899b

Here are some episodes. Not sure if you need TV licence?

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Leeanna

Something Different

joannebarbarella's picture

Not your usual style of story and all the more welcome for that. Some may call it magical.

If only we could all get the same taste of the water that Tim got.

H Jo, no, every now and again

leeanna19's picture

H Jo, no, every now and again I like to try something different. Not been writing as much as I have felt a little more fulfilled lately. I am away with my mother in 3 weeks. Then I have months of staying as my male self until March/April. No doubt my outlet will be writing.

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Leeanna