Information
Wyn the Sun Dog
Eirwen
The
Angelic NoktoaOwner: Alkuna
Age: 11 years, 8 months, 3 weeks
Born: June 26th, 2014
Adopted: 7 months, 4 days ago
Adopted: August 13th, 2025
Statistics
- Level: 30
- Strength: 75
- Defense: 75
- Speed: 75
- Health: 76
- HP: 76/76
- Intelligence: 5
- Books Read: 5
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
Eirwen - (
) Welsh. "white/blessed snow" (Pronounced: AIR-win)
Inspired by an internet meme and the Swan Maiden fairy tale.
Once upon a time, a hunter traveled into the woods, trapping game the whole day through. One evening, as the sun began to set, he found himself at the edge of a clearing. Suddenly, silent as Ghostlies, seven beautiful white Noktoa fluttered down into the clearing. But as they landed, he saw them remove robes made of feathers, transforming into seven maidens. Once their robes were removed, they began to frolic, splashing one another in the clear waters of a stream, gathering nuts and berries and tucking them into pouches, or simply lounging contentedly in the moonlight in their human forms. They were all beautiful, but one of them, by the name of Eirwen, truly caught the hunter's eye, and he crept forward from the bushes and seized her robe of plumage and took it back with him into the bushes.
After the noktoa maidens had played and relaxed to their heart's delight, they came back to put on their feather robes again. Six found theirs, but the loveliest could not find hers. They searched and they searched until at last the dawn began to appear, and the six sisters called out to her, "We must away; 'tis the dawn; you meet your fate whatever it be." And with that, they donned their robes and flew away.
When the hunter saw them fly away, he came forward with the feathered robe in his hand, and the noktoa maiden fell to her knees and begged him to return her feathered robe. The hunter was, however, unwilling to yield the beautiful prize, and, casting his cloak around her shoulders, carried her home. He demanded that she marry him, and when she showed reluctance, he hid her feather robe where she could not find it.
There, Eirwen was made to live for two years. The hunter was not cruel to her in any other way than that he would not let her have her feathered cloak, but she felt trapped and longed to feel the wind in her feathers once again, and wished for nothing more than to return to the wilds with her family. She did not hate him with all her heart, but she held no love for him, nor did she feel any duty to give him children in a marriage she had never wanted in the first place. He made her do things as a housewife to make her get used to being a human from now on. She learned these things reluctantly, but it did not help her settle into the life he wanted her to conform to.
Then one day, she heard of a witch in the woods, who had supposedly cursed seven princes into the forms of noktoae. Six had found the other noktoae maidens, but one remained alone, searching for the pure white maiden who was missing.
Eirwen realized that this was her chance at true happiness. And so, when the hunter left on a hunting trip, she gathered what little supplies she could and set off into the forest to find the witch. If she could not find her robe, then she would become a notoa in another way.
Eirwen soon found a thatch and stone cottage deep in the woods and knocked politely on the door. There was a pause, and then the door creaked slowly, suspiciously open.
"Are you the witch who turned seven princes into noktoa?" she asked.
The old woman stared at the figure on the front step of her cottage and considered her options. It was the kind of question usually backed up by a mob with pitchforks and torches. It was, safe to say, the kind of question she tried to avoid having to answer. However, coming from a single dusty, tired housewife, the old woman wasn't afraid.
The old woman tilted her head, peering down her crooked, warty nose at the woman. "Are you a soldier or a witch hunter?"
Eirwen twisted the hem of her apron and dropped her eyes. "No," she muttered, "I'm a noktoa."
"I think I can guess," the old woman said slowly. "Your current husband stole your noktoa cloak and demanded that you marry him?"
A nod.
The old woman crossed her arms and leaned against the door jamb, shrewd eyes staring her down. "And you can't turn back into a noktoa until you find your cloak again."
A nod.
"But I reckon he's hidden it, or keeps it locked up so you can't touch it," the old woman pantomimed turning a key in a lock.
A tiny, miserable nod.
"And then you hear that old Granny Rothbart, who lives out in the woods, is a magical old witch whose father taught her how to turn princes into noktoa," the old woman sighed. "And you think, 'Hey, stuff the old skin, I can just turn into a noktoa again this way!'" There was something, perhaps, a tiny mote of sympathy in the old woman's tone as she spoke the words. But then her expression became closed off again. "But even if that was true, which I haven't said if it is or if it isn't, I'd say that I can only do it to make people miserable or out of spite. I'm an awful person. I can't do it out of the goodness of my heart. I have no goodness. I can't use magic to make you feel better. I only wish I could."
She paused, then added, "If I were a witch."
Eirwen chewed the inside of her cheek. Then she drew herself up and, for the first time, looked the old woman in the eyes. "Can you do it to spite my husband and make him miserable?"
The old woman considered her options. Then she pulled a wand out from the umbrella stand by the door. It was long, and silver, and a tiny glass noktoa with open wings stood perched on the tip.
"I can work with that," said the witch, with a wickedly mischievous grin. Then she flicked her wand and muttered a magical incantation.
Feathers bloomed across Eirwen's skin, and slender, branched antlers sprouted from her forehead. Joy enveloped her as her face became the beautiful heart shape of an Angelic Noktoa once more. Turning, she offered Old Witch Rothbart a single, elegant white feather in thanks.
But the old witch waved her off. "Don't do me no favors, child. I didn't do it for you."
Nevertheless, there was something, just a tiny bit, not spiteful in the witch's expression, before she turned and closed her cottage door firmly behind her.
Taking a deep breath, the noktoa maiden spread her wings and took to the skies, feeling the wind in her feathers and joy in her heart. As she rose above the tops of the trees in the forest, she turned toward her homeland and the cursed prince who awaited her.