I sat there for several minutes in confusion. My dream had seemed like reality, and I shuddered as a tendril of breeze drifted across my bare shoulders.
Sighing, I left my bed and closed the shutters to the dawn. I quickly dressed and then splashed my face with cool water in an effort to still my nerves. I had many questions for nurse, and as I sat at my vanity table I tried to organize my thoughts as I awaited her arrival.
Presently, I heard a knock at my chamber doors and before I could bid the caller enter, nurse slipped in with a breakfast tray.
“I have come as I promised Addfwyn.” She said with a smile. “I found Taryn in the kitchens and advised her that I myself would care for you today.”
She placed the tray on a table and latched the door after a cursory glance down the corridor.
“Let us greet Dawn in all her glory, for it is not often that The Morning Star graces us with her presence for this long. She has taken the better part of an hour to herald Aine’s travels across the heavens today.” She announced as she drew aside the curtains and opened the shutters I had closed soon after waking.
While she stood at the window with her arms folded around herself, I admired her ageless grace and beauty. She gazed out of the window, concern marring her otherwise unwrinkled brow. Her platinum hair was wrought into a thick braid that tumbled down her back, and her cheekbones stood high beneath a pair of eyes that mirrored the sky at daybreak.
Anneth was almost as old as the world itself. There were few who knew that she was one of the blessed ones, a child of the earth, Daughter of Aine's thought and song. The creators themselves brought her to life at the beginning of the ages when A’ilthyr was new. Whatever she intended to teach me was imparted to her by the Great Creator Aine herself. I barely had time to contemplate further when she turned and fixed a steady gaze on me.
I knew that as a healer, Anneth had the ability to repair all manners of hurts and illnesses. She was also an empath and a seer. These too, were gifts from Aine and Maghnus. I knew that I was being appraised, and since I had nothing to hide, I allowed her to search my soul. I could feel her taking measure of my entire being. I felt a deep sense of calm radiate from the very center of my body as she did so. After a few moments, the calming sensation disappeared and a wave of panic swept over me. I gasped with shock when she withdrew from her search.
“ I am sorry, Addfwyn. I did not intend to delve too deep into your thoughts. Something troubles you.” She said solemnly. “I have not discerned what it is, for I would have you tell me when you are ready. Your mind must be at ease before we begin your lessons.”
I could not respond, for even though I knew that I could trust her, I had not the stomach to put what I had seen into words. Although Eleri was my sister, I was scared of her. So I continued to stare out the window in silence until I was ready to tell Anneth what was on my mind.
**************************
It should have been a simple thing to tell Anneth what I had seen and of what visions danced through my dreams. Yet, I sat there mindlessly picking at the fruit and grains that were on my breakfast tray. I knew I was avoiding the inevitable, so I took one last bite of my apple and turned to face Anneth.
“In the course of one night I have seen things that haunt my nightmares, and I have dreamt of things that speak of fables.” I said. “I wish to learn what you will teach me, so I will tell you what troubles me Anneth. However, it will be no easy task to set my mind at ease.”
“Very Well.” She said simply. She declined the seat I offered her, and waited for me to speak.
I took a few minutes to gather my thoughts before I spoke. I began with watching Eleri sneak out of her room. I told Anneth of how I followed her, and described the glade along with everything I had witnessed in great detail. I then told her of how I had spied upon Eleri and Father. Narrowed eyes and a slight wrinkle in her brow betrayed Anneth’s otherwise impassive expression when I described what transpired between them. By the time I had finished recounting my dream, the sun was well on her way to the middle halls of the heavens.
“And that,” I said with an exaggerated sigh, “ is what is bothering me Anneth.”
Anneth did not immediately respond. I had been studying her intently the entire time I was speaking, but could not determine where her thoughts might lay. There was nothing I could do but wait, and I was eager to know what she thought.
After a few moments she turned away from the window. The sun was pouring so brightly through the window behind her that I had to look away from her when she finally spoke.
“As you know, I cannot interpret dreams with certainty. It is almost impossible to discern whether a dream is a memory, hope, prediction or message. Any of these is a possibility.” She began. “So, let us begin with what is certain.”
RagDoll posted at 10:05 PM
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The Frog Princess: Part III**************************
I did not wait to see what happened next. I ran down the halls towards the healing rooms. I found Anneth, my childhood nurse, seated next to the bed with a book in her hands. She was the only one Father allowed to tend to my mother. She smiled as she saw me enter the room. She rose and offered me her chair.
“I was just about to find a new book.” she said as she stood. “It appears as if you could use some rest. I shall be back shortly.” She pressed a small silk wrapped object into my hand. “Just in case your mother should need it before I return.” she added before she left the room.
I dropped the tiny packet into my pocket and sat on the bed next to my mothers sleeping form. Her skin was translucent and pale. It seemed to be stretched painfully across her frail skeleton, rendering her veins and arteries easily visible. One could almost see her blood as it ran its course through her body. Her eyelids appeared paper thin, and her once rosy cheeks were sunken and colorless. She looked like a wax doll instead of a great Queen. A far cry from the strong matriarch she once was.
After a few moments, her eyelids fluttered open. She smiled wanly and motioned for me to come closer to her. Her voice was tiny and faint. “Addfwyn, it is time, and there is much for you to learn…”
“You need to rest Mother.” I said as I drew near to her, more than a little alarmed at her words.
“Yes,” she murmured, “I myself am too weak to teach you. Anneth will teach you as much as she can, in what little time is left.”
“Mother, are you feeling worse? Should I call for the healers?” I was on the verge of hysterics. “I shall find a cure for you myself, I swear it!”
“No, Addfwyn.” She sighed deeply. “I am not feeling worse, but I fear I am not feeling any better. I am tired. Just promise me you will learn all you can from Anneth. She taught me all I know.”
“What do you mean, Mother? What is it that I must learn?” I puzzled over her request.
Mother sat back against her pillows and let her eyelids close. “I am too weak, and I dare not tell you here. She will tell you everything.” She opened her eyes once more before she fell asleep. “Listen well, and let none learn of your knowledge, not even Eleri.”
I sat there for a few moments, thinking over what she had said. After all that I had seen this evening, there was little chance of me confiding in my sister. Not that I ever did, anyhow. I found it strange that Mother should mention it. Just as I was about to search for Anneth, she quietly slipped back into the room. Before I could say a word, she ordered me back to my chambers for much needed sleep.
“I know what your mother has told you.” She said. “I shall come to you in the morning when your father relieves me of my watch. His Highness would not leave her side if I were not here.” She sighed as she claimed her seat next to Mothers bed.
I could only nod dumbly in response. I gave her a quick hug before I made my way back to my rooms.
That night, I found no rest. Disturbing dreams haunted what little sleep I found. I could not find comfort as I tossed and turned in my bed.
In my dreams, I found myself back in the glade surrounded by briars. I was standing in the center of the pond, but the water barely skimmed my ankles. The hem of the white gown I was wearing dipped into the water, and it’s edges fluttered gently in the ripples of the waters surface. As I stood there facing the smooth boulder, a mist began to emanate from the pond, and crept outwards until the entire floor of the glade was filled, leaving only the tips of rushes and the very top of the boulder to peek above it. As a chorus of frogs began to sing at my feet, I searched in vain for its source among the crawling mists. I was afraid to move, lest I trod on one of the singers.
Soon, the song took on a melancholy air, and a strong sense of grief and pain began to clutch at me. As quickly as the mists arose, they began to dissipate, revealing a massive host of frogs at my feet. They were an assortment of colors, shapes and sizes. For some reason, this did not surprise me, and my eyes were drawn back to the boulder. Two large frogs, larger than any I had ever seen before, sat in the middle of the boulder. Tiny crowns adorned their heads, and a retinue of several frogs surrounded them.
As I continued to watch, the singing stopped, and the frogs to my left moved to create a path that lead to the base of the boulder. I barely had time to wonder at the depth of the water before half a dozen bright green frogs carrying a lily pad with what appeared to be the lifeless body of a bullfrog made their way up the path.
As soon as they reached the base of the boulder, the mists reappeared and the entire company of frogs began to change. Where once stood a myriad of amphibians now stood a stately court of elegant lords, beautiful ladies and magnificent soldiers. The lily pad was now a stately bier bearing the body of a warrior.
The Queen rose from her seat upon the boulder and made her way to the base of the boulder. With tears in her eyes, she drew the body of the warrior to her and placed her now glowing hand upon his chest. Instinctively I knew him to be the very frog that Eleri had used in her sick ritual. To my amazement, the warrior I had thought dead, rose from his bier and clasped the Queen to his chest in a great hug before falling to his knees in front of her.
“I have failed Mother.” He said quietly, his head hung low.
The King had now made his way to the Queens side. “Rise, my son. You are still alive. All is not yet lost, for your sister still lives.”
All three then turned towards me, for the first time acknowledging my existence. With a start, I recognized the warrior as the captain of our Royal Guards. My face must have been the picture of shock, for he came forward and bowed low before me with a smile.
“I am ever at your service, Your Highness. Learn your lessons well, and beware of your sister. It all depends on you now.”
The King and Queen continued to smile kindly, although the Queens cheek was still stained with tears. She looked strangely familiar and I could not place my finger on the reason why.
Before I could respond, my vision began to blur, and the mists began to swirl. The King raised his hand in farewell. “Look for your champion, when the time is right Young One.”
‘Wait!’ I wanted to cry out. ’What do you mean?’ But it was too late. The Frog Court had disappeared and I awoke in my own bed, alone.
RagDoll posted at 2:11 PM
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I promise to get things back in order soon. I am halfway through this part of the story! Comments?
****Part II*****
I carefully climbed from my hiding place, and followed her back home. I was careful to climb up my own balcony. Once inside, I waited until I heard her soft footfalls as she passed my door. I again took to the shadows and followed her to our fathers study. The door was open, and candlelight flickered on the walls. Father was slouched in his chair, a large book open on his lap. Several more volumes littered his desk and the floor around him.
He looked up as my sister entered the room. She stopped just inside the doorway, and waited for him to acknowledge her, as is the custom. For, even though she was his daughter, he was still the king. He smiled and bid her enter.
“Ah! My lovely Eleri! To what do I owe the honor of your visit? The hour is late, and I myself should have been asleep hours ago.” He smiled and motioned for her to have a seat.
“I am just worried that you are working too hard, Father.” She smiled demurely, her drawn face the picture of concern and worry. She sat on a small stool next to my father, and laid her head on his knee, much as we once did as small children, listening to his tales of strength and valor. A twinge of jealousy and disgust tugged at my chest. After what I had just seen, I knew that she had a hidden motive to her visit.
Father disentangled a knot in her hair as he absently stared at the flames dancing on the hearth. His eyes lacked their usual sparkle, and his coronet seemed to lie heavily on his brow. “I can not rest while your Mother weakens. Her appearance has not changed, but she no longer recognizes me. I fear she shall not last much longer.” His sigh shook his entire body. “She shall be called to the Halls of the Dead soon, and only the Creators know when or if I shall join her.”
Mother had been slowly wasting away before our eyes. Over the course of three full seasons, Healers, Wise Ones, Physics, Conjurors, and madmen from far and near came to the palace in hopes of dispelling what ailed her. They cast spells and administered potions and poultices. Runes were drawn, incense burned, and many charts, scrolls and books were consulted. When one attempted to apply leeches to her temple, Father ordered a halt to the madness and began his own research. Mother’s spirits never waned, but as the days passed, she rarely found the strength to leave her quarters.
Eleri reached a slim hand to his cheek and caught a silvery tear. She took the tainted flower from her hair and laid it in his lap. My stomach began to curdle as I remembered how it had attained its color.
“What is this, my daughter? Where did you find such a beautiful bloom? I have never laid eyes upon its equal.” He held the delicate flower gently in his hand as he marveled at its beauty.
“Oh, it is just something I found in the woods today. Its scent is like no other, and I thought it would please you.” She was still seated at his knee, so she tilted her face towards him with a small smile that curved wickedly at one corner of her lips.
Father returned her smile and held the flower to his nose. As he inhaled, his eyes closed, and the lines of worry melted away from his face. An intoxicating scent emanated from the flower and began to fill the room. Its heady fragrance assaulted my senses. If I had not been leaning against the wall behind the door, I would have surely fallen.
With a sigh, Father looked up from the flower in his hand. His blue eyes now brilliant and feverish in the flickering light seemed too hectic to be real, while his once pale cheeks seemed infused with color. “Surely this flower is from the great gardens of Inis Mór. Its scent is refreshing and eases my cares.”
“I would bring you another, if you would but grant me a boon Father.” Eleri said coyly as she looked up at our father through her long lashes.
“You have only to name it. If it is within my power to so, I shall grant it to you.”
My sister eagerly stood up, and leaned forward to name her request. Although my hearing is sharp, I was unable to discern her wish. Long minutes passed as I strove to hear what she said. I could not read my Father’s expression, and Eleri’s face was hidden by tendrils of hair that had come loose from her braid. When she was finished, she resumed her seat at his knee to await his answer.
For a few moments it appeared as if the spell my sister had woven into the flower had lost its charm. Father’s eyes became dark, and it appeared as if he were battling some inner demon. Seeing this, my sister laid her hand on his and muttered words which I dare not repeat. The enchantment held, and with a smile he spoke in a hollow tone.
“So shall it be. How thoughtful of you to think of your sister as well. I shall tell Addfwyn of our plans in the morning.”
“No Father. Let us surprise her at the banquet.” She wheedled.
“As you wish, Eleri.” He planted a kiss on her forehead then stared idly at the book that still lay open in his lap.
“I beg my leave of you for the evening then, Father.” She rose, and swept low into a formal curtsey before him.
Father nodded his acquiescence. She rose and planted a kiss on his cheek. Remnants of her own blood still stained her lower lip. As she drew back, she passed her fingers across his eyes. “Sleep well, and let none disturb your slumber until Dawn heralds the arrival of the Sun.” As soon as she uttered the simple spell, Father was fast asleep. His breathing became shallow, but the misery that had masked his face was absent. For that I was thankful.
RagDoll posted at 8:41 PM
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Thie bit is really out of order here, but it was begging to be written, so I jumped ahead a bit and began it. I have not decided just what relationship this character will have with Muirin, but it will be one of the many stories that she will hear.
It began as a song lyric wraparound of In The Air by Phil Collins. I do these either to clear my mind, take a break from 'Last request', or to get me back on track.
Oh yeah. What I failed to mention, was that this is the product of a nasty cold and lots of Nyquil and Airborne. You can dose me up with Darvocet, Motrin, Tordal and other prescription fun stuff, but they dont shake my brain like Nyquil does! This fairytale was inspired by a Nyquil dream...
*********The Frog Princess
The evening air seemed to claw at my lungs, causing them to burn. Is it possible to breathe too much? I felt as if I had been running for hours, although I had been clinging to the bole of an ancient oak for what seemed like an eternity. Perhaps I should not have delayed my return. But I had to be sure it was safe! Who am I kidding? My fear kept me from running. It kept me hidden in the trees until I knew she was gone.
How long I stayed in the tree, I do not know. Each time I convinced myself to let go of the tree and return to the city, waves of nausea washed over me. It seemed as if the very earth itself was spinning around at an alarming rate. I could not tell the difference between the earth and the sky, so I clung fast to the tree and pressed my forehead to its bark. At length I finally slid down, determined to tell my tale. I no longer cared what would come of it. I had kept it to myself for too long. How many times must I witness her cruel ritual before I went mad? Perhaps I was already mad. How much longer could I keep my secret?
Five long years had already passed since she had sworn me to silence upon pain of death. She knew I would obey. Ever since the cradle, and perhaps since we shared a womb, she had shown herself to be stronger than I. She was even born first. She would laughingly jest that she had pushed me out of the way in order to be the eldest. I did not doubt her words. Never would I dream she would take it this far. I had to stop her. She had already gone too far.
I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lordI've been waiting for this moment, all my life, oh lordCan you feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lord, oh lordAs I drew closer to the gates of the city, I slowed my pace. I had been running the entire time, afraid that if I stopped running, I would lose my resolve. Once I was in sight of the gates, I hid behind a large tree and nervously began to smooth the front of my dress in an effort to rid myself of the bits of dried grass and leaves that were clinging to it. I was startled by a small tree frog that jumped onto my wrist as I smoothed my pocket. I idly wondered where he had come from and concluded that he must have crawled into my pocket while I was hiding in the oak tree. I marveled at his brilliant color and the almost human like way he was looking at me. His eyes were an odd honey brown color. I decided to keep him for good luck, as my sister had a deep loathing for frogs. If I had known then, what I know now, I would have named her loathing a fear. I deposited a kiss on his forehead and placed him gently in my pocket. As I did so, I thought I heard a sigh. Could it have come from the frog? My mother used to tell me stories of enchanted princes who were freed from their frog forms by a simple kiss. But those were childhood fancies, and I chalked it up to the soft breeze that floated by.
Well, if you told me you were drowningI would not lend a handI've seen your face before my friendBut I don't know if you know who I amWell, I was there and I saw what you didI saw it with my own two eyesSo you can wipe off the grin, I know where you've beenIt's all been a pack of liesI stood there for several moments, lost in contemplation as I idly stroked the frogs smooth back with my thumb. My hand rested in my pocket as he nestled against my curled fingers. His tiny 'chin' rested upon my forefinger as I thought. Again, I thought I heard a sigh. But as I listened carefully, all I could hear was a soft 'chirrup-chirrup-chirrup' emanating from the tiny amphibian in my hand. Inevitably, my mind wandered back to the memory that haunted both my dreams and waking moments.
On the eve of our sixteenth birthday, I noticed my sister slip out into the inky night. It was near midnight, and I thought it odd that she should sneak out of her bedroom window dressed in her best gown. I ran out onto the balcony, only to see her disappear among the trees that lined the edge of the garden. I hastily leaped from the low balcony onto the soft carpet of grass below me. I had learned to be as agile as a cat, never knowing when my sister would lose her temper next. I did not wish to be on the receiving end of her wrath.
I silently followed her for what seemed like hours. I flitted from shadow to shadow, just barely keeping her in sight. Only once did she turn around. Already I could see a change in her appearance. Her once fair form seemed pinched and skeletal in the moonlight. As she turned towards me, to look over her shoulder, her once soft features seemed to jut out at odd angles. Oddly enough, her eyes were brilliantly crisp and bright, even in the dim light. I chastised myself for not noticing these things sooner. The only things I had worried about were her diminished appetite and her increased bouts of rage that would have put an injured dragon to shame.
Just as a sickle shaped moon rose above the treetops, we came upon a small clearing surrounded by brambles and fern. I nimbly scaled a nearby oak tree. As she approached the edge of the clearing, she waved her right hand and the brambles parted, giving her just enough room to pass by. As soon as she stood in the clearing, the brambles wove their branches together, leaving no trace of an opening. From my vantage point, I could see every detail of the strange clearing.
In the center of the clearing was a tiny pond. It was more of a puddle with a few rushes growing from it. Next to the pond was a large flat boulder. Besides these things, there was nothing but grasses and a few patches of clover. I could not even venture a guess as to her purpose.
She produced two pouches from the folds of her dress and placed them on the rock. Out of the first bag, she removed a white flower, a dagger and a small vial. From the second bag, she removed a large bull frog and held him fast in one hand. Of all that I had seen so far, the frog surprised me the most. For, as I have mentioned, my sister had an aversion to frogs. I did not think it possible that she should be able to carry one, especially among the folds of her dress. I thought no more of it, and returned my attention to my sister.
By now she had her back to me, and I could no longer see what she was doing with the items she had produced from the pouches. A sickening mist began to creep along the floor of the clearing, and a wild chorus of frogs began to emanate from the tiny pond. I could have sworn that the frog was begging her to let him go. A dreadful deep croak could be heard above her manic laughter. I jumped a bit in spite of myself as the bull frog suddenly leapt free of her grasp and landed in the middle of the pond among the rushes.
My sister laughed, and told the frog that it was of no consequence. She no longer had a use for him. She also told him that he would have more company very soon. I did not like the way she said so, and pressed myself further against the tree as I continued my watch. I noticed that she now clasped the dagger in her right hand. Its tip was now stained with what I could only assume was the frog’s blood. She raised the dagger over her head, and drew it across her left palm. I suppressed a gag as she held her palm to her lips. She then held the vial to her wrist and allowed the blood to drip from her hand. Once she had filled it, she pressed the flower to her palm. When she pulled it away, there was no indication of what she had just done. She smiled as she tucked the now scarlet bloom into her hair.
She gathered her things and concealed them once more among the folds of her dress. She returned to the brambles and exited the way she came. Once again, the brambles closed behind her and she did not turn back as she made her way back to her room.
Watch this space for the REST of the story!
RagDoll posted at 10:58 PM
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I said I would, but my notes have really developed a mind of their own. I have the plot down, the outline developed, but the story is creating a world of it's own! I can't wait until it all comes together. Please, please let me know what you think. Constructive criticism welcome. Feel free to post to comments or shoot me an email!
So without further ado, here is a teaser. It continues where I last left off in chapter 2:
"Rustling in the branches of an ancient oak caught her attention. As she loosed her arrow, a yelp of surprise, followed by a grunt of pain accompanied a crashing noise. She drew a second arrow as she made her way to the base of the tree. To her astonishment, instead of a wild creature or foul being, she found a well armed warrior clutching his side as he lay sprawled upon the forest floor. Two slender maidens, strangely arrayed, attended him.
The first maid was dressed in deep green garments. Her chestnut brown tresses seemed to be dripping with mosses and mistletoe. She cradled the warrior in her lap with her slim brown arms. The second maid was garbed in similar garments of pale green. Garlands of ivy and tiny white berries adorned her shimmering golden brown hair. She was kneeling next to the pair, and in her pale hand was the arrow she had just plucked from the injured man.
'Peace, Fair Huntress!' They trilled in unison. 'We mean you no harm.'"**Continuation to Chapter 2***
She was stunned into silence by the scene that greeted her. She managed to keep enough of her wits about her to keep her bow and arrow pointed at the fallen warrior's chest. Her eyes darted from one figure to another. Dryads! After several moments, she finally found her voice.
"You are the ones I saw darting among the trees. Yours were the voices that floated to my ears. Is he the one you spoke of?" She nodded towards the figure cradled in the Oak Maidens arms.
Neither dryad spoke, but each gave a slow nod and a smile. She turned and stared evenly at the stranger. For a moment she thought she caught a flicker of recognition in his grey eyes. The glimmer quickly faded, and he fixed an unreadable gaze on her.
Several moments passed in silence as they stared at each other. She could not explain why it suddenly felt as if her skin was on fire. She shook herself, and steeled herself against his gaze. His apparent lack of concern annoyed her. She could feel her brow begin to furrow as her eyes narrowed, and a small frown crept across her lips.
'Friend or foe?' she growled, through clenched teeth.
'That depends.' He replied flippantly. 'Who are you?'
She did not expect his response, and again, was momentarily stunned in to silence. Her frown was replaced by a look of shock that was fast turning into fury.
'My Lord,' the Oak Dryad began. 'I don't believe you are in any position to question the one holding an arrow to your chest. Our protection within these woods extends only to those threatened by Evil. There is no evil behind your encounter with The Huntress. We have already interfered by tending to your wound.'
'However, ' the Willow smiled, 'You seem to have found some favor with her, as she usually does not ask questions before dispatching her mark. Count yourself lucky.'
At the dryadÂs suggestive comment, she felt her face flush. Recovering quickly, she drew herself up proudly, and tilted her chin up before she spoke.
'Your manners are lacking, warrior, and unworthy of the reference to lordship! I am Muirin, daughter to Muireadhach, Lord of the House of Taliessin. I am The Huntress, and I claim your life if you can offer no valid reason as to why I should spare it. So I ask you again. Friend or foe?'
The glimmer of recognition flickered once more, momentarily breaking his unreadable countenance. 'I am called Teague' he offered. 'My business is not with you, Huntress. As to whether I am friend or foe, is up to you.'
'Your flippancy annoys me, Teague. Although,' she said, eyeing his clothing. 'Unless my eyes, deceive me, you appear as if you were brought up civilized enough to address a lady properly.'
'A lady!' he snorted. 'A lady would not have shot me out of a tree just to interrogate me at arrow point!' His previously unreadable countenance now held an obvious smirk.
'I would not have shot you out of a tree, had you not been stalking me! 'Muirin shot back. 'What business have you to spy on me? You have offered no explanation for hiding in a tree, so what else can I surmise except an ambush as I rode past? If that was not the case, what were you doing in that tree?'
'How long do you plan on aiming that arrow at my heart? Shoot me and be done with it already. As I said before, my business is not with you.' The smirk never left his face.
Muirin could feel her temper about to boil over. 'I tire of this game. Either offer me cause to spare your life, or I claim it as mine. I am duty bound to honor one last request before I take your life, so choose your wording wisely. And no, you may not ask that I spare your life, nor choose the time of your death. Have you nothing to say in your defense?'
Seemingly without thought, he instantly gave her his answer. 'I choose to hear your tale.'
'What?' She was not sure she heard him correctly.
'My last request is to hear your tale. Every warrior has a story. I wish to know the story of The Huntress. I have heard many tales about you, and had vowed to one day learn which one was the truth. I did not expect to hear it from your own lips, nor pay for it with my life.' A small smile began to play at the corner of his lips. 'Nor did I count on your beauty. It shall be an honor to die at the hands of such loveliness.'
At this, he placed his right hand to his left shoulder, and bowed his head. His grey eyes never left hers, in the manner reserved only for those wishing to gain a ladyÂs favor. 'I apologize for not standing and bowing properly. I have recently been shot from a tree by a fair ladyÂs arrow.'
'You are too bold, Teague! Thrice this day you have managed to leave me at a loss for words!' she gasped. 'Do not mock me, warrior! *Gaesa or no, I shall slay you where you lay! May the Gods grant that I should see the last of your life blood spill upon the forest floor before I am summoned to walk the Halls of The Dead for breaking my gaes!'
*Gaesa-an obligation, often placed upon a person with magical means and dire consequences if it is not obeyed. In the case of this story, when one breaks a gaesa, their life is forfeit, and their soul can not rest until they complete a great deed. They must roam the Halls of the Dead forever with out rest unless they are pardoned by the one who placed the gaesa upon them, or they complete a great deed or task.)
RagDoll posted at 11:10 PM
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What started out as a simple bedtime tale has taken on a life of it's own. The next bit of 'finished' writing may not be posted for a couple of weeks. I have started an outline for the story, characters, names, places, history, and stories within the story. My brain has become flooded with ideas, so I must weed out the uneccessary , and organize everything.
I promise to have an update soon. I am having difficulty with figuring out the characters names...some of them won't tell me!
In the meantime...if you haven't read what is posted yet, please do so. I would appreciate any feedback! And if you HAVE read it, please comment!
Thanks!
RagDoll posted at 8:12 PM
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She stopped speaking, and studied the man before her. What sort of Man would squander his last request on a tale? At first glance it was apparent that this was no green soldier. Although his features appeared youthful, he wore the self assuredness and bearing of a well seasoned warrior. He wore no identifying armor that marked him for any Tribe or Race that she knew of, but the pattern that was embroidered onto his leather bracers and quiver were vaguely familiar. If she had inspected them further, she would have seen a phoenix amidst a flowering vine, it's tail ablaze, beneath a trio of stars. The color of his tunic and breeches seemed to change according to the light. She could not decide if they were grey or brown. The material was finely made and obviously intended to camouflage its wearer. His uniform was marred by blood seeping through the fabric beneath the hand that clutched his side. It had been hidden beneath a cloak that had fallen open as he eased himself against a tree to listen to her tale. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that he was seated just as she had first found him. Before she could admonish herself for letting that fact affect her emotions, she was caught up in the recollection of their 'meeting'.
She had been traveling alone for several days and had not encountered anyone since she had left the Nomad encampment the previous morning. She could not shake the feeling that she was being watched. Despite her keen sense of sight and hearing, she could detect nothing save the various trees and wildlife that inhabited the Outlands. The birds suddenly ceased their song, and the cooling breeze disappeared leaving the air dank with humidity. She closed her eyes as she rode, concentrating on the 'feel' of the land around her. A low hum seemed to emanate from the trees. Her horse trembled slightly, and nickered softly. Her eyes snapped open as he balked at a crunching sound that came from a copse of trees to their right. She placed a calming hand upon his neck before drawing an arrow from her quiver. She readied her bow and began to scan her surroundings expectantly. Her pulse quickened as the humming intensified. She was soon able to pick out soft, melodic voices.
'Come to him.' They whispered.
'He seeks shelter in our arms. He seeks his heart's desire, but knows it not. He watches. He is waiting. You can not run away from fate.'
Where would she run? She wondered.
And, who was 'He'?She was not one to run from danger, nor was she foolish enough to take flight in an area she was unfamiliar with if need did not dictate it. The Outlands were foreign to her, and legends spoke of spirits that walked among their forests. Her peripheral vision caught sight of what seemed to be slender maidens, whose hair appeared to be laced with garlands of moss and ivy, flitting about the dappled sunlight and shadows. As she turned to focus on them, they vanished instantly amongst the trees.
A soft voice tickled her ear.
'The Oak holds that which you seek!'Rustling in the branches of an ancient oak caught her attention. As she loosed her arrow, a yelp of surprise, followed by a grunt of pain accompanied a crashing noise. She drew a second arrow as she made her way to the base of the tree. To her astonishment, instead of a wild creature or foul being, she found a well armed warrior clutching his side as he lay sprawled upon the forest floor. Two slender maidens, strangely arrayed, attended him.
The first maid was dressed in deep green garments. Her chestnut brown tresses seemed to be dripping with mosses and mistletoe. She cradled the warrior in her lap with her slim brown arms. The second maid was garbed in similar garments of pale green. Garlands of ivy and tiny white berries adorned her shimmering golden brown hair. She was kneeling next to the pair, and in her pale hand was the arrow she had just plucked from the injured man.
'Peace, Fair Huntress!' They trilled in unison.
'We mean you no harm.'
RagDoll posted at 10:45 AM
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