The Battle for Harmatia has begun…
Cover Art by Stef Tastan
The Harmatia Cycle © Madeleine E. Vaughan
The Battle for Harmatia has begun…
Cover Art by Stef Tastan
The Harmatia Cycle © Madeleine E. Vaughan
A folk song written for The Harmatia Cycle Universe, about a Korrigan and a foolish King who wanted to know the future. Written, composed and recorded in an afternoon, using Audacity and Live 10, and an AKG Mic. Performed on an Ibach baby grand piano.
Silvery starlight, hair so fine
The lady sat waiting as fair as moonshine
Lady, tell me your secrets,tell me no lies
On the banks of the water before sunrise
Come closer, my King, come closer yet
To hear my truths you must get wet
Step into the water and into my arms
And I shall reveal all that you ask
The water is cold it bites to the bone
But I will wade in for the sake of my throne
Lady, tell me my future, tell me no lies
For I am safe, only until sunrise
Oh glorious King, how rich you shall be
You kingdom will flourish, your subjects will eat
Your wife will be the envy of every lord
Your son will grow as tall and strong as oak
But as they spoke, the sun did rise
The beautiful lady lost her disguise
Eyes as red as blood shone through her face
And teeth so white and long sank into his flesh
Oh heed now this story, for she told no lies
The King became rich in birds and in flies
From his body a kingdom began to thrive
And his bones were wed to the earth and embraced for all time
And in that spot, where he did lie
A tree did grow, so tall and so wide
Its branches shaded the lady and kept her cool
And there she remains waiting for her next fool
© Madeleine E. Vaughan
There was something silver glittering in the forest. It twinkled in the corner of Sorcha’s eye, as inviting as a fishhook.
Monsters hide behind pretty masks, they said, but Sorcha couldn’t look away.
The silver thing rippled. It was a cloak of light, shifting weightlessly in the air. It would be so soft against her skin, Sorcha knew, so breezy and cool, like chiffon woven from secrets.
Monsters hide behind pretty masks, but the cloak was the loveliest thing Sorcha had ever seen.
The silver fabric rippled lazily, it’s trimming burning with an intricate weave of sunlit thread, as thin as spider-web. It was tailored for a God. Never-mind the scratchy woollen shawl around her shoulders, if Sorcha were to wrap that cloak around herself, she’d become the shimmering night sky itself, a constellation of stars.
Monsters hide behind pretty masks, but Sorcha stepped off the path, mind clouded by a green haze of envious desire.
At the corners of the cloak, translucent figures floated on dragonfly wings. They were sprites—small and fantastical, born from the first touch of sunlight on morning dew. Sorcha crept like a huntress, watching as they plucked the winter mist and spun it with dainty hands, weaving it into the beautiful cloak.
Monsters hide behind pretty masks, but the sprites were so small, as fragile as insects, unaware of Sorcha’s watchful eyes.
And so, carefully—so very carefully—Sorcha reached out, and caught the closest sprite in her hand. One squeeze, and the body broke apart like a dried leaf, leaving a glistening stain of gold across her palm.
The second sprite’s scream was like a blackbird’s call, but with shimmering fingers, Sorcha silenced it, and the silver cloak drifted down into her waiting arms.
She threw it around her shoulders and its gleaming aspect transformed her instantly. Her dun brown hair shifted into a cascade of autumnal chestnut, her black eyes deepened into pools of night, and her pockmarked skin become as fresh, and lovely as new snow. She was a Queen, in a cloak of secrets, mist, and stars.
I guess it’s true, Sorcha thought, admiring her reflection in her gold-stained hands. Monsters do hide behind pretty masks.
This piece of flash-fiction was written for one of my classes. We were told we could write about anything, but the story had be 365 Words, one for each day of the year. As someone who struggles to write short work, this was an interesting and enjoyable challenge for me.
I wrote a couple of 365 Word Stories, but this was my favourite. The traditional fairy tale structure lends itself to flash-fiction—a simple story, with strong imagery, ending with a conclusive lesson. The Victorians did a fine job of tailoring fairy tales to be about how good women should behave—dishing out punishments for ‘transgressions’ like confetti at a wedding. As such ‘fairy tale endings’ are often quite transparent. Justice served, goodness rewarded, evil vanquished. It’s so ingrained, not even I expected Sorcha to win, until she did.
It made the whole thing deliciously vicious, and rather than modern…I feel like I’ve ended up telling a very old story instead. One that was never sanitized. One that ought to be remembered.
To celebrate the re-release of The Sons of Thestian, I will be holding a colouring competition between October and November 20th.
A small series of Harmatia Cycle art (Including above designs by Amelia Mackenzie) will be released, and you will have the opportunity to colour the images. Entries can be done digitally, or printed out and coloured traditionally! What’s more, there are no limit to the number of entries permitted, meaning you can colour all the images if you want, or even do the same one twice!
There will be a number of prizes available, and top entries will be featured on my website and on my tumblr.
For more details about the prizes, and how to enter, please check back to my website in October, or subscribe to my newsletter and have all the details and download links sent straight to your inbox at the beginning of the month!
Rufus Merle is a wanted man. After twelve years on the run, raising the infant Prince Joshua, the last of the Delphi line now stands in grave peril. Sick, friendless and out of places to hide, Rufus and Joshua are hunted by dangerous alchemists, a deranged assassin, and a powerful faerie goddess, who will do everything in her power to turn Rufus into a living weapon.
With the net closing around them, and the sparks of unrest and rebellion igniting across the Kingdom, Arlen Zachary is forced to question his own allegiance between the Crown, and the people he swore to protect. As the gods play their hands, and the ancient Sidhe prepare to settle a century old feud, Harmatia trembles under the tyrannical rule of a King, whose only commitment is to the dead.
Hello my wonderful readers!
I have some very important news for you all. Last night, my Publisher The Zharmae Publishing Press announced that they would be closing down. As of the 31st of August, The Sons of Thestian will no longer be available for purchase.
The news came suddenly, but fortunately I have a back-up plan, which I will now be implementing.
For those of you waiting for Blood of the Delphi, it is still going to be released! I have decided to self-publish my work, and though I may have to push the publishing date (possibly to December), I am going to be fighting tooth and nail to make sure that the book is released this year!
What’s more, I will be publishing the 2nd Edition of The Sons of Thestian hopefully at the same time, for any who want a new, matching set.
I will be working on making sure the prices for the books are lower, that the quality is higher, and that they are more easily available for anyone who wants to read them.
As I try to sort through this process and get everything together, I
cannot guarantee that there won’t be further delays. These delays are as frustrating for me, as they are for you, and I hope you will all be patient with me. Your readership, your support, is incredibly important to me, and I want you all to know how much I appreciate it and your loyalty.
I hope you will continue to support me, and my work. I will post updates as regularly as I can, and the moment I have more information, I will make it available.
In the meantime, you can expect the following from me:
1) I will be publishing a short-story with the Random Writers this September. This is a short based on my next project The Kestrel Saga, and I am incredibly excited to share it. More details to follow.
2) I will be releasing images for the Cover-art for Blood of the Delphi, and will be commissioning new matching cover-art for The Sons of Thestian, which will also be released soon.
3) I will be working on designs for merchandise, and other nick-knacks for any fans who may be interested (Message me, and tell me what you’d like! – Notebooks? Stickers? Badges? Posters?)
I am, as always, open to any questions or queries, and will remain highly active in the coming months. I will be seeking the advice of other writers who have gone down this path, and will be doing my upmost to get it all right and perfect for you guys.
Again, I ask your patience during this time, your continued support and thank you for everything you’ve done so far. I have some exciting plans for the future, and I hope you’ll all be there to see me realise them!
In the meantime, if you would like to keep track of what’s happening, please show your support by subscribing to my monthly newsletter here!
Many thanks everyone!
“When shall we three meet again / In thunder, lightening or in rain?”
(W.Shakespeare – The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: Macbeth 1.1, page 858, lines 1-2)
The Witches of Macbeth are recognised throughout the Western World as an archetype which has been popularised over centuries, spawning dozens of interpretations, spin-offs and reincarnations in production and literature. Even Harry Potter, which recreates witches in a benevolent light, referenced Macbeth in its third movie The Prisoner of Azkaban, using the spell from act 3, scene 1 for the song ‘Double Trouble’.
Needless to say, we are all very familiar with these characters, who struck such terror into the heart of King James I that he banned the play for five years after first watching it. It is possible, however, that these well-known characters are actually echoes of much older figures in mythology. The play’s Scottish setting, as well as certain passages, lends itself to the idea that Shakespeare’s Witches may actually be faeries in disguise. Through an analysis of imagery, historical context, and the evolution of mythology, we can begin to uncover the source materials that Shakespeare may have drawn from when writing his famous play.
…plays on magic suddenly became of vital concern in the 1580s and continued to be such a compelling subject on the stage until 1620s…the interest in plays about magic also correlates directly with a resurgence of pamphlet literature on alchemy and other Hermetic subjects, as well as with an increase in the number of works published on mathematics, applied science, and Paracelsian medicine…
(J.S. Mebane – Renaissance Magic & the Return of the Golden Age, page 6, lines 12-20).
Macbeth was written in 1606, during a time of great innovation. The previous Tudor reign had left England in a state of flux with a lot of churning religious politics, and many free-thinkers were beginning to emerge. Similar to the Victorian era which also boasted a rapid progression in industry, both periods saw a rekindled interest in mythology and magic, which is reflected in their literature.
Previous to Macbeth, between 1590 and 1594, Edmund Spencer published a poem called The Faerie Queen. The poem earned him high favour in the court, due to it being in part an appraisal of Queen Elizabeth I, whom the poem alluded to being a descendent of King Arthur. The appropriation of the Arthurian mythos into the Tudor family was not only designed to flatter, but also emphasised the ideal of the Tudors’ divine ruling right. King Henry VIII, Queen Elizabeth I’s father, made a claim on King Arthur himself by commissioning the painting of the Winchester Round Table. The table, believed at the time to be the original of legend, was painted with an effigy of King Arthur based on King Henry VIII.
The Faerie Queen also featured Elizabeth I as a parallel of Gloriana, the Faerie Queen herself. Previous to this, the word ‘faerie’ was actually used to describe the place in Celtic mythology where supernatural beings resided, rather than the beings themselves. The term faerie then, as it was used by Spencer, was a modern appropriation that allowed him to reshape the image of legendary figures such as the sidhe into more appropriate, Christianised figures. Just as with Henry VIII’s claim on King Arthur, faeries and folk-lore were being evolved and shaped into a literary tool in which to spread the ‘right’ ideals to the English public. For example; in Act 1, scene 4 of Romeo and Juliet, Mercutio’s passing speech about ‘Queen Mab’ states:
O’er ladies ‘ lips, who straight on kisses dream
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
(W. Shakespeare – The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: Rome & Juliet 1.4, page 251, lines 76-81)
Mab, who brings young lovers pleasant dreams of kissing, will then punish women for these unchaste desires. She will help women, however, in doing their wifely duty and ‘bearing the load’ of their husbands. This is more a reflection of a Christian male agenda, than one of original faerie disposition. Faeries in mythology were usually more likely to punish lechery in men, than in women.
Data recorded by Alan Macfarlane for his book Witchcraft in Tudor and Stuart England, revealed that in correlation with the public’s renewed interest in magic, 1560 to 1650 also saw a rapid rise in the number of witch trials in Britain. Witches, who were believed to be in commune with the Devil, could be blamed for any number of things, including storms, illness and death in the family.
The number of Witch Trials peaked under James I, who succeeded Elizabeth in 1603. James, who instigated the North Berwick Witch Trials, where several ‘witches’ confessed under extreme duress, considered himself to be an expert in the subject. His book, Demonology, contains precise instructions on the hunting, and appropriate tortures for witches. James’s paranoia about witches led him to pass a new Witchcraft Act in 1604 which made the summoning of spirits punishable by death. His obsession, according to James Sharpe in his work Instruments of Darkness: Witchcraft in England, 1559-1759, may have also prompted the trial of the Lancashire Witches, orchestrated by local magistrates keen to earn the King’s favour.
The fear of conspiracy, renewed by the infamous Catholic gun-powder plot, and the public’s obsession with witches, gave Shakespeare the perfect setting for Macbeth. In it, he combined these two elements to create the ultimate drama for his audience. The Witches’ characters however were defined by another characteristic which made them pariahs in the eyes of the Shakespearian audience. It is this aspect which encourages the school of thought that the Witches may be faeries in disguise.
At this time, there were two popular images of the faerie, both of which feature in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer’s Night Dream. One was of a small, mischievous creature, like Puck who was almost always androgynous or male, and the other was the elegant, courtly faeries like Oberon and Titania. Rather than be based in mythology, the Courtly Faeries were a reflection of the Tudor and Stuart Courts, and therefore they reflected the suppression of women during this era. Women, both faerie and real alike, were summarised by their beauty and their virtue. Those found lacking in these qualities would often be condemned, regardless of status.
The Witches of Macbeth were different. They were not beautiful, they were not virtuous, and they possessed great power onto themselves which they used as they wished. On the one occasion they bow to a higher power, it is not to the masculine figure of the Devil, but instead to the goddess Hecate. This female empowerment would have been all the more baffling in the male-centric Stuart Court. Indeed, Sir Anthony Weldon, in his The Court and Character of King James, remarked of James I that he actually ‘hated women’. The strength of this statement, though made in regards to James’s sexuality, does seem to imply that his disregard went beyond preference. He, and his court, would have no doubt felt intimidated and undermined by this ‘unnatural’ reversal of power in a patriarchal society.
This empowerment is not the only aspect of the Witches which echoes the original faeries of mythology. The Witches’ behaviour can be closely compared with a Breton faerie known as a ‘Korrigan’. The Korrigans, in Breton Folk-lore were water spirits often attributed with the power of fore-sight. They enjoyed kidnapping children, had an immoral disposition, and like many faeries possessed a predilection for meddling. Described to be ugly, red-eyed and wrinkly when seen in daylight, they also had a connection with the ancient Celtic religion.
What distinguishes the Breton version is their association, in oral folk-lore, with ancient worshipers of earth goddess or with women druids, from whom the korrigans are said to be descended.
(P. Monaghan – The Encyclopedia of Celtic Mythology and Folklore, p. 275, lines 25-29)
It can be logically proposed then that the Witches could be korrigans themselves, the priestesses of an ancient religion that predated Christianity. The setting choice to include Hecate rather than use the Devil favours this idea. This distinction separates the Witches from Christianity not by aligning them with the Devil, but by connecting them to a much older religion.
Historically, the repression of the Celtic tradition in the British Isles was done through the demonization of beliefs. Druids, who were the academics and spiritual teachers of Celtic society, were diminished to the role of conjurer or mage. The old Celtic Gods became the faeries of mythology, and some traditions even merged the religions by stating that faeries themselves were fallen angels. As the Celtic people faded into history, their gods and beliefs, which Christianity demonised, were appropriated. But the domestication of these old gods, retitled by Spencer as faeries, left a power vacuum, which witches subsequently occupied. This may be why Shakespeare chose, knowingly or not, to refer to his characters as ‘witches’ rather than ‘faeries’, even though they demonstrate typical faerie behaviour.
The inclusion of Hecate gives another strong connection between the Witches and faeries. Hecate, who originated from Greek mythology, holds no place in the Celtic Tradition. However, in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer’s Night Dream, he created a link between faeries and the Greek gods by setting his play in Athens, and including mentions of the goddess Diana. Macbeth, in contrast, is obviously set in Scotland, but the renaming of Celtic Gods with Roman or Greek equivalents was a regular practise in writing. Julius Caesar himself, in describing the Celts during his invasion of Gaul, used the names of his own gods when referring to their beliefs.
The avid suppression of the Celtic lifestyle, meant that Shakespeare’s English audience were likely to be far more acquainted with the Roman and Greek gods, than the Celtic ones. Hecate would be better known to the English public, than Morrigan, who is likely to be Hecate’s equivalent in the play.
Morrigan, who is a prominent figure in both the Mythological and Ulster Cycles of Irish Mythology, is a complex character. In some versions of the mythology, she is one of three sisters who together make up aspects of a war goddess, whilst in others the Morrigan is onto itself a trio of the three sisters called Badh, Macha and Nemain. Interestingly, and straight away, we are given this theme of ‘three’ which reoccurs in Macbeth. Now, some arguments claim that Hecate was a late edition to the play that Shakespeare did not include. Even if this is so, the Witches could, in their set of three, still represent the Morrigan themselves.
In Irish Lore, the Morrigan was often considered as the goddess of war. She could foretell deaths, transform into various shapes, and could influence the direction of a battle by giving courage, or striking fear into the hearts of her enemies. She also had a strong connection with the earth and the underworld. If we disregard the Witches’ ability to conjure storms, which was a reference to the aforementioned North Berwick Witch Trials conducted by James I in the belief that witches sent storms to sink his boat, the rest of their abilities are highly in-keeping with Morrigan.
All of the Witches predictions to Macbeth are predictions of death. Their prophecy that he will be Thane of Cawdor, and then King is based on the capture and impending death of the previous Thane, and the future death of Duncun. The Witches also, through their influencing of Macbeth, would withhold and twist information, but always told the truth. This is not in keeping with the perception of witches in Shakespearian society, who were regarded as notorious liars. It does, however, ring similar with the Morrigan who, as one of the Tuatha de Danaan, could not lie. The inability to lie is a common theme in mythology with the sidhe and other faeries too.
There remains one final key factor to the theory that the Witches of Macbeth may be faeries or Celtic Priestesses in disguise, and that is that at only one point in the play, outside of the stage-directions, are they ever referred to as witches at all. This happens early in the play, when the First Witch recounts a conversation she had with a woman, who refused her chestnuts and called her a ‘Witch’.
‘Aroint thee, witch!’ the rump-fed ronyon cries
(W.Shakespeare – The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: Macbeth 1.3, page 869, line 6)
Considering the associated risk and repercussions, it is unlikely that a woman would knowingly deny and anger a witch. As such, her usage of the word ‘witch’ may have only been intended as an insult, rather than a direct label. If this is the case, than she could not have called her a ‘faerie’, simply because the audiences would associate that with beauty and virtue. Beyond this singular usage of the word, there are few indications in the dialogue that the ‘weird sisters’ as they are more commonly called, are witches at all.
Whether Shakespeare wrote the Witches as faeries and then substituted the names to pander to the King, or whether he too was a victim of the amalgamation of mythologies and superstitions around him, we can never know. Of one thing however we can be certain: the Witches of Macbeth are timeless figures who have existed in one form or another for thousands of years. And as long as they resonate with our fear of the unknown and the unnatural, they will continue to exist among us in the darkest hollows of our literature and our myths.
Macfarlane A. 1970. Witchcraft in Tudor and Stuart England: A Regional and Comparative Study. Harper & Row
MacKillop J. 1998. Dictionary of Celtic mythology. Oxford University Press.
Mebane J. 1989. Renaissance Magic & The Return of the Golden Age. University of Nebraska Press
Monaghan P. 2004. The Encyclopedia of Celtic Mythology and Folklore. Infobase Publishing
Shakespeare W. 1994. The Complete Works of Shakespeare (First Published 1623 by Edward Blount, and William and Isaac Jaggard) Barnes & Nobles, Inc.
Sharpe J. 1996. Instruments of Darkness: Witchcraft in England, 1559-1759. Hamish Hamilton
Spender E. 2008. The Faerie Queen (First Published in two parts in 1590 and 1594) Hackett Publishing Co, Inc
Stuart J. 2008. Demonology (First Published 1597 by King James VI of Scotland) Forgotten Books
Weldon A. 2009. The Court and Character of King James (First Published by R.I. in 1650) Kessinger Publisher
Caesar J. 1994. Commentarii de Bello Gallio: Commentaries on the Gallic War (First Published by Julius Caesar 58-49 BC) translated by W.A. McDevitte, W.A. and W.S. Bohn. [Online] [Accessed 20 November, 2015] Available from:
Harry Potter & The Prisoner of Azkaban. (2004) directed by lfonso Cuarón [Film] USA: Warner Bros
This article was originally published in the 2016 British Fantasy Society Journal, Issue 15 edited by Allen Stroud.
Find out more about the BFS at http://www.britishfantasysociety.co.uk
Today is the day! Over the last month and a half, I have received a good selection of entries, and judging them has been an extraordinarily difficult task for me, not least because of the level of work.
Due to this, I have judged Art and the Written entries separately, as I felt that was only fair. As such their will be prize-winners from both sections.
Before I begin, I would like to say how much I appreciated each entry. They were each extraordinary pieces of work, and I am so proud and honoured to have received them. You cannot know how much your efforts have meant to me, and I will be forever grateful for your support.
Each piece has been given an individual critique below. Writing Entrant winners will be announced tomorrow (31/05/2015).
CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR PRIZE-WINNERS
1st Place: Red Cap by Thomas Fummo
2nd Place: Rufus Merle: La Mort by Rebecca Welch
3rd Place: Rufus Merle by Hamish Steele
Red Cap by Thomas Fummo
The winning entry. There is nothing I don’t love about this picture. Whilst all of the entries were very good, each boasting a different artistic style, The Red Cap is to me a perfect specimen. The attention to detail is immaculate, and the picture totally captures exactly how I imagined the Red Cap should be. The textures, the way the skin hangs both loose and yet tight, the single nostril, the red eyes, the lanky limbs and above all the beak like teeth…You have a great talent for drawing monstrosities Thomas, and on this occasion you’ve really outdone yourself.
If ever anyone wants to know what I envisioned the Red Cap as, I will be directing them to this picture.
Fae by Thomas Fummo
Your rendition of Fae is incredibly pleasing to me! I love the scars, the design of her weapons (all of which you noted and drew!) and her stance, like she’s going to spring out of the screen. For Fae, who is often drawn in a passive way, I liked seeing her looking so fierce and battle-ready, like the warrior she is! You captured her essence perfectly.
Rufus Merle: La Mort by Rebecca Welch
Where do I even begin? The concept is fantastic, and your line-work as always is horrifically enviable. The more you look at this picture, the more details you pick out, and that’s especially what I love about it. You’ve encapsulated the character extraordinarily well, throwing in hints and clues. As always, the way you draw the folds in clothes is wonderful, and I cannot fault you for the anatomical accuracy (those hands!). I am totally charmed by his picture; it could really be ‘La Mort’ in a genuine Tarot Deck, and maybe when I have enough money, I’ll commission you to make the whole thing!
My only quibble, and it is a small one, is that you didn’t have time to colour it, which would have really completed the picture. This, I understand, but it is a shame. Regardless, La Mort is a fantastic piece of work and among my absolute favourites.
Rufus Merle by Hamish Steele
As always, I am charmed by your style. Everything from the pose to the bright colours is just brimming with life and character, and this picture looks like a professional poster for a genuine cartoon! I am especially fond of the details on the clothing and Rufus’s expression. It is clear you drew on the front-cover and the book trailer to inform Rufus’s look, and I especially love the long coat with the fur-line and the boots. Adding the magic was a wonderful, extra touch which just completes the whole thing.
Luca by Amelia Bull
As a big fan of Art Nouveau, I was delighted to see Luca drawn in this way, not least because the style totally compliments the character, and you spent time investigating how she should be dressed and appear. The colours compliment her, and I am very pleased by how anatomically correct she is in build and size. This is a very beautiful homage to the character, and one that I have put up very proudly on my wall. I apologise for not being able to load a better scanned version.
Athea Ascending by Jules Ironside
This is an incredibly vibrant and striking picture. I can imagine it would be even more impressive on paper, and was very struck by its regality and power. The new design of Athea’s staff was creative and interesting, and I liked the touch of the sand turning into a different colour (Almost reminiscent of oxidised blood, though that of course isn’t actually blue!). I think the thing that gets me most about this picture is the eyes, as they really do stand out and are very piercing. You’ve certainly captured Athea very well.