Syphon's Tails - Prologue

Deep in the Scottish Highlands there is a myth; a whisper of a rumour; of a village called Brigadoon. As is the way of most myths and legends, there are many different versions that have cropped up over the centuries, however, also in the way of these old tales, there remains traces of a Shared Truth, as all are originally based on memories of events that took place long ago.

In the case of the Village of Brigadoon, these Shared Truths place the Village among the picturesque Highlands of Scotland, and have the Village appearing for a span of twenty-four hours starting at Midnight, for the Summer Solstice. They also agree that Brigadoon is 'Lost in Time', and any visitors who fail to cross the boundary before the twenty-four hours are up, are forever trapped in the Village.

Of course, there are those sceptics who say that the Myth of Brigadoon simply came about as a way to explain various disappearances in the Highlands, but such is the way of most Myths and Legends. There are also those who claim to have found and visited the Village and escaped in time, before turning and watching as Brigadoon once more vanishes into the Mists.

And so it was on Monday the 21st of June, 2021, a group of hikers decided to celebrate the Summer Solstice atop Ben Macdui, when they stumbled upon a small village nested within a glen, which did not appear on their map. Concerned that they had got lost in the surrounding mists, as it didn't appear to be a new village, it was decided that they would enter to ask for directions, and possibly take a break from their hike.

Upon entering the village, it quickly became apparent that this was no ordinary village. For one thing, the locals seemed to be talking in an Old Scots dialect, and for another, the buildings and side paths, while well-maintained, did not shine like the road they were following.

Soon enough they arrived at what could only be the market place, bang in the centre of the peculiar village. A quick glance round revealed the inhabitants scurrying about their business while keeping watchful eyes on the group of strangers. After further inspection, it was discovered that a path off to their right was also glowing a soft gold.

Now extremely curious, it was quickly decided that they would continue on, remembering the story of the yellow brick road from Oz.

It soon became apparent that the path was taking them back out of the village, as the surrounding buildings thinned and started being replaced with shrubs and trees. Once they'd left the village behind, the path turned North, before joining what looked to be a dry river-bed, the emerald-green banks on either side gradually steepening. Along the way, strange flowers started appearing as the path began winding its' way up the mountainside.

Eventually the trees started thinning and rocky patches started making an appearance, before the path widened out into a clearing.

Not, it wasn't a very large clearing, bit it was practical. There was a small brook feeding into a decent-sized pond off to the left, and what looked like a den; made out of over-grown bushes, long grass, and a weeping willow tree; on the right. Scattered about the clearing were several strange flowers, some of which they had already seen on their journey, with various coloured butterflies flitting around. Perhaps the most ominous of the clearing, however, was the cliff face opposite them, and the large, dark cave.

No sooner had they stepped into the clearing, than an excited shriek filled the air, followed by a large, black creature, roughly the size of a horse, which flew overhead before landing in front of them.

“Hello! It's not often I get visitors here at my cave! I'm Syphon, who are you?” the excitable dragonling asked, cocking his head adorably.

The group of hikers exchanged nervous looks, before silently selecting a spokesperson.
“Umm, Greetings, err, Syphon?” he squeaked. “We didn't mean to disturb you...um, we were heading to Ben Macdui, for the Summer Solstice, and got lost in the mist?” he finished hesitantly.

Syphon blinked, before settling down, his tail swaying behind him, looking remarkably like a cat.
“That doesn't answer my question!” he...pouted? Needless to say, the hikers were taken aback.

“Err, we are the, um, Scottish Highlands Hiking Association?” another of the group explained.

Syphon sat up, eyeing them closely.
“Not a big Association, are you?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” the hiker smiled nervously.

Syphon huffed to himself.
“If I tell you some stories, will you trade?” he asked slowly.

The hikers exchanged another glance.
“What sort of trade?” the spokesperson asked suspiciously.

“Oh, just the usual. I'll tell you tales I heard from Mother, and other things I've either witnessed first-hand or been told by others like yourselves. In return, you tell me stories and/or what's happening around the world, the last visitors I had told me about these things call TeaLey and Radhio which can send stories across long distances?” Syphon explained eagerly.

The hikers blinked,
“Did you mean 'telly' and 'radio'?” one of them asked.

“Oh, is that how you pronounce them? The Telly shows grey images, right?” Syphon looked positively delighted with this new information.

“Yes, that's right, although the technology's progressed now, so the telly can show colourised images. So, just to clarify, we answer your questions and tell you what's happening in the world and stuff, and you'll tell us stories?” the spokesman asked.

“Correct! Otherwise it wouldn't be a trade!” Syphon grinned. “Do you want to start, or shall I?”

“I think we might need a little time to work out where to begin, so you can go first?” the spokesman offered.

“Very well.” Syphon spread his wings before tucking them in close. “Are you comfy? Then I'll begin!”