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Once at the Graceful Palace of the Summer Queen, where the sun glows eternally and warm winds snap the long banners atop its soaring towers, there happened to arrive one of the hnwr. He was stoop-backed and twisted with age, as those of his kind always appear. The hnwr was received by the attendants of the Nodwyddau Princess with all honors. He was feted and acclaimed to all in residence and granted audience with speed. After all, it is known that the hags and his sort are the agents of the Absent Royalty. If one calls upon a Royal, it must be at the behest of another of that peerage. The great hall of the Graceful Palace was full of light and air for this welcome. Streamers of every color trailed gaily and pleasing music twinkled in counterpoint to the cheerful breath of the wind. Long were the Princess’ blandishments and self-aggrandizement before her visitor, for such is her way. Even in the face of such celebration, however, the visage of the hnwr remained grim. The assay by word either dire or fair could not draw him forth. Like a mantled crow he squatted too tall for his chair though he was bent almost double. Many things are told of the Nodwyddau Princess but patience and understanding are not among her shining virtues. “Hnwr,” she finally demanded, “why sit you in your place all immune to the enticements of the Graceful Palace? What fault do you find with my hospitality?” At this the court fell silent for they understood that no longer was this a feast to be enjoyed. The silent guest rolled his shoulders, again the bird of ill omen, and finally spoke. “Your most reflective highness,” his whisper was a draft which insinuates itself to a warm room but he accorded her all respect and honor. Even a hnwr dare not antagonize his better. “O shining one, indulged daughter of our liege. I am sent with tidings of agreements beyond memory now called to force. Within the Summer Queen’s demesne is a garden and I must be granted access.” The Princess laughed clear as silver bells and her court laughed with her. “The Graceful Palace has many gardens!” And indeed, they are without number, each more beautiful than the last. “My attendants will show you to one, and you may return here with a smile upon your face or depart if you will.” “Nay, Princess most incisive. The garden I seek is one specific, its centerpiece being a great tree with branches of no color.” The merriment departed as suddenly as it arrived. Alone of all the grounds of the Graceful Palace this one garden was refused her and despite her storied obstinance she had not challenged this bar. The tree was an ill-favored one even as it presided over its beauteous erbier. Now the Princess mantled in turn and her piercing raiment stood on end. “By whose charge?” “The Headless King commands it.” “Leave us!” The Nodwyddau Princess’ voice rose into the shriek of a gale and all in attendance fled rather than be caught in the storm it portended. What transpired within the garden of the black tree, and how the hnwr was allowed to leave (for he had been charged to enter with no mention made of his departure) is another tale. But depart he did under the furious glare of the inhabitant of the Graceful Palace. In his gnarled hand he bore a branch of that fearsome tree, and the foes of the kindred sickened and failed at his approach. Ever after the hnwr was known as the wielder of the Colfen Hebonnaid until he disappeared from these lands on the errands of the Absent Royalty. Some say he went forth before the Great Muster but he has vanished from the stories of the kindred and lost is the truth of his fate.