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Author	Topic: Scatha's Journey - A GFFA legend (one post) - Replies Jan 26
JediNemesis Registered: Mar '03	Date Posted: 1/17/08 12:38pm Subject: Scatha's Journey - A GFFA legend (one post) - Replies Jan 26 - Date Edited: 1/26/08 3:45pm (1 edits total) Edited By: JediNemesis
	Title: Scatha's Journey Author: JediNemesis Era: Way, way back. Genre: Myth and legend Characters: OCs Summary: A legend of the galaxy. Notes: Another one of my attempts to create believable myths for GFFA. This one owes its debts to Norse saga, Anglo-Saxon poetry, and Arthurian myth. Cover art [done by the author] DISCLAIMER: GFFA is the property of George Lucas. Those of the various worlds canonically existing are the property of their creators; the original worlds are mine. All OCs involved are mine. No money has changed hands. There was once a world, very many leagues from the centre of the galaxy, that spun along its allotted course year in, year out without anything much ever changing. It was neither large nor small, and rolled quietly along in such a way that all but the high places of the middle lands were too cold to harbour life. It was a peaceful place, and it bred a hardy, happy and untroubled race. For many years before the things of which we speak its few people had been ruled by a King both wise and just, who had his seat in a mountain-ringed valley high in the snow-dusted uplands. This King had one child, a daughter, a princess no more and no less beautiful than her peers, but possessing a free and generous spirit of the highest degree; and her name was Eanwyth. She was loved by her subjects no less than she was by her parents, and chief among them was a boy, a tumbler and a singer of songs, who had come to the King’s hall as the apprentice of a journeyman bard; and his name was Scatha. Scatha stayed at the court of the King after his master had moved on, finding much to make his songs of in the richness and the gaiety of the life he found there, and enchanted most of all by Eanwyth. And as they grew older it became clear to both of them that what they shared was no longer a childish affectation, but a thing rarer than all the jewels of the galaxy: true love. And had things been different or the threads of fortune been wound another way, they might have been wed then; but fate is inexorable, and decreed that one harsh winter, when the land was rimed with frost and the skies black with rain, the Queen, whom the King loved with all the passion of his soul, should sicken; and presently she died. The death of his Queen drove the King deep into despair, and he commanded that the royal citadel and everyone in it should be clad in black to mourn her. Then he ordered the gates of his hall closed, and named it death to enter; then he locked himself and his motherless daughter away. For sixty days and sixty nights Eanwyth saw no man but her father, and ate no food but that which the servants passed through the barred gate. All the while she watched her father the King, and saw that with every passing day he fell further into melancholy, until he noticed the world around him hardly at all. On the day after the sixtieth night, Eanwyth went to her father, and begged him for his leave to go out of the citadel, even only into the village in the valley, and see another human face. But the King would not permit her, too intent on his own grief to see his daughter’s, and so Eanwyth fled from his chamber and ran as far as she could, to the high rocky point behind the King’s hall; and there she knelt down and looked out across the wide fields of her inheritance, and wept. And Scatha heard her. For he had kept a lonely vigil at the citadel gates for all the sixty days and nights, desperate to know that Eanwyth lived and loved him still, and the hope had almost left him when he heard from far away the sound of Eanwyth’s tears. Fear for the cause of her weeping made him reckless, and so that same night he came to the face of the great rocky pinnacle on which the King’s hall stood, and scaled the cliff alone and with no aid. That climb, solitary and in darkness with a king’s fury waiting if he should be seen and a rocky death if he should fall, is not accounted the least of the great deeds of the past; and who is to say whether it was the strong sinews of a tumbler or something greater and more fiery that kept him safe and sure on the ascent? So Scatha climbed; and he came to the lip of the cliff, and over it, and found Eanwyth weeping in the snow. At first she scarcely believed her eyes, and thought that it was a spirit come from the netherworld to haunt and taunt her, or else that the cold and her grief had crazed her mind. But after a time she saw that it was Scatha indeed, and wept again, not for sorrow this time, but for joy. Then she remembered her father’s seeming madness, and entreated Scatha to go again, returning the way he had come before he was found; but he would not go, and stayed with her, cradling her in his arms, until dawn came. With the first light of the sun came the King, searching for his daughter, and his fury was terrible when he found her asleep in Scatha’s arms, and Scatha too sleeping, exhausted by the agony of the climb. Then the King called an end to his mourning vigil, and summoned attendants and guards; and Scatha was taken away and closely guarded, and Eanwyth locked in her own chamber. And it was only on the third day that the King called his daughter to him; and a little while after he called for Scatha. So Scatha came into the presence of his King, whose word he had defied and whose daughter he had comforted in her grief; and he knelt only when the guards compelled him. And the King stared at his prisoner with cold rage, and said “Give me good reason why I should not send my daughter to a temple to hide her dishonour; or, if you will, why I should not have your head from off your shoulders.” And Scatha looked up, and said “Punish me if you will; but lay no blame on the Lady Eanwyth for my treachery.” And the King looked from his weeping daughter to where Scatha knelt, and told him “It is only by my daughter’s pleading that you have this chance to speak. I would advise you to answer well.” And Scatha met his gaze steadily and without fear, and said “Since I was a child my only love in this world has been your daughter; and what I did, I did out of that love and out of sorrow at her sorrow, and would do without a second thought again.” Then something in his words touched the King’s soul, and he remembered how hot his own love for Eanwyth’s mother had burned in the days of his youth. And the desire for Scatha’s blood lessened, and after a time he said to the boy “You have your life, and it is in my mind that you speak truly; but swear now on the sacred things of this world that you will not defy me again.” And Scatha stood before the King’s throne, proud and unafraid, and said “In the names of the fixed stars and the free, the spirits of the void, of earth, of ice, of water, wind and fire; in the name of my honour and my ancestors and my own living blood, so do I swear.” And another while passed, and the King said “My daughter is yet young, and it may be that her mind will alter.” Then the memory of his own love plucked at him again, but he hardened his heart against it, remembering too Scatha’s disloyalty, and said grimly “For three years you are banished from my court and sight, for your defiance of my orders. Go now, and do not return before that span is past unless you are minded to die in the land where you were born.” The Princess Eanwyth started up from her chair, and would have spoken; but Scatha did not flinch from the King’s icy words or the heavy sentence that went with them, and said only “The stars are widely flung and many numbered; three years amongst such wonder are but short.” Then he took his leave of the court without a backward glance, and soon was gone. The sun and the moon went once and again in their courses, and so three years passed. The King grew older, and the Princess Eanwyth grew from a girl trembling on the edge of adulthood to a woman with the sadness and serenity of her mother, and three years to the very day after his banishment, Scatha returned. For three days he rested while the court marvelled at his return; and on the evening of the third day he was summoned to the throne room. The King sat in his high throne, with Eanwyth to his left hand and his dead Queen’s seat to his right, and fixing his eyes on Scatha said to him only “Speak.” “Since I left this court,” Scatha said, “I’ve travelled far and I’ve roamed wide. I’ve been a gypsy and a journeyman, a rover with stars for my roof and stones for my sleeping place. The air knows me; I’ve walked with the mist and maelstrom of a hundred windy worlds. Since taking ship across the sea between the stars I’ve gone by roads and by rivers, highways and byways and the wide ways of the sky.” The King made no reply. “I’ve seen towers and temples.” Scatha said. “I’ve seen enough holy places and high palaces for a pantheon of divinities and a dynasty of princes; weathered walled citadels thick with life or long abandoned. I’ve seen a thousand things raised by this race or that to the glory of their gods – standing and shattered, ruins, remains, and patterns in the dust.” And the King stirred in his throne, and said “And was your heart captured by none of these things?” “I’ve seen beauty beyond my wildest dreams,” Scatha said, “sights so perfect it tore my heart to turn away. The courts and cloisters of Ossus caught at my soul, and Diurnat’s dead cities; gleaming Coruscant, glittering Ilum and Rulan Maior with its searing rain.” “Yet you return,” the King said softly. “All beauties pass,” Scatha answered him, “and all brilliance fades. My eyes were enchanted; but my heart lies here, and always will, as long as Lady Eanwyth waits unwed for my return.” And the King turned to where his daughter sat with tears in her eyes, and asked her “Does this answer satisfy you?” Eanwyth wiped the water from her lashes, and looked at Scatha rather than her father as she answered “I am well satisfied.” And Scatha smiled; but the King was not yet done. “Go again among the wonders of the galaxy,” the King told Scatha, “and find what it is in all the worlds is dearest and most desired. Three more years you have in this; then, if you will, return, and Eanwyth shall say whether or not she is satisfied with your answer.” And once again, as before, Eanwyth half rose from her place, and would have cried out at the injustice of her father’s orders; but Scatha did not flinch, and still smiled as he replied “Three years may find many things, and many more are to be found than may be.” And so he left the court for the second time, and soon was gone. The sun and the moon went once and again in their courses, and so three years passed. The King grew older, and the Princess Eanwyth grew older, and three years to the very day after his second banishment, Scatha returned. For three days he rested whilst the court marvelled at his return; and on the evening of the third day he was summoned to the throne room once again. The King sat in the high throne, with Eanwyth to his left hand and the seat that bore his dead Queen’s emblem to his right; and he fixed Scatha with a straight and icy glare, and bade him “Speak.” “Since I left this court,” Scatha said, “I’ve travelled far and I’ve roamed wide. I’ve run and ridden across the fields of Cynlaed and the gardens of Cerea. I’ve seen ice-fields and oceans, sea-storms and sandstorms and storms of war.” The King made no reply. “I’ve seen old worlds, young worlds, the rich and the poor and the fading away.” Scatha said. “I’ve seen and spoken with more sorts and species than there are stars in space or sands on the seashore, and asked them the question you bade me ask.” And the King stirred in the depths of his throne, and asked “And what did they answer you, these people?” “Some said health, some said wealth and some said wisdom,” Scatha went on, “and some the wielding of power. Some said family, some said friendship; the Alderaani named peace, the Naboo beauty, and the Corellians good living. The Noghri said honour, the Wookiees knowledge and the Bothans security. The Jedi say serenity is most to be sought, and the teachings of the Sith say life unending.” “Where then lies the truth?” the King asked quietly. “I can’t speak for any other than myself,” Scatha answered him, “nor say if the hest of my own heart be right or wrong; all desires are different. But mine is and will be here, unless the Lady Eanwyth wed another in my stead.” And the king turned to Eanwyth, and asked her for the second time “Does his answer satisfy you?” Eanwyth met Scatha’s eyes again, and said as she had before “I am well satisfied.” And again Scatha smiled; but the King was not yet done. “Go once again into the wide galaxy you know so well,” the King told Scatha, “and seek out all things rare and wonderful. Three more years you have; and if you return it shall be with the finest thing you have found on all your travels; the greatest gift within your power to give. That and no less is my daughter’s bride-price; then and only then, if she will, may Eanwyth set her hand in yours.” And for the third time Eanwyth would have cried out, and said in the hearing of the whole court that this dreadful demand was none of her asking; but Scatha was unafraid, and said only “There is wealth enough in the teeming worlds and value enough in those across the void; three years may find out many gifts beyond all price.” And so he left the court for the third time, and soon was gone. The sun and the moon went once and again in their courses, and so three years passed. The King grew from a hale man into one old and frail, and the Princess Eanwyth too grew older; and three years to the very day after his third banishment, Scatha returned. For three days he rested while the court marvelled at his return; and on the evening of the third day he was summoned again to the throne room. The King sat in the high throne, with Eanwyth to his left hand and the seat where his Queen had once sat to his right; and he looked on Scatha for the third time in nine years, and said heavily “Speak.” “Since I left this court,” Scatha said, “I’ve travelled far and I’ve roamed wide. I’ve seen stars and suns young and old, from hot blue giants to dead black dwarfs. I’ve seen double dawns and slow sunsets, blurred skies and bright skies and skies that burned.” And the King leant back in his throne, and said “What else?” “In the far south of the galaxy I saw a star shiver itself and die.” Scatha said. “I’ve seen worlds of ice, worlds of fire, worlds of water and worlds of wind.” And once again the King said “What else?” “Clouds.” Scatha said. “Uncountable millions of them. Threads and patches, drifting like down or looming like thunder; all shapes shadowed, dim, dusky, blue-grey and bright. I’ve seen sunlight lance through them like a silver blade, or float across them like a fiddler’s fingers playing the sky. Rain clouds, snow clouds, smoke clouds and sand clouds; red clouds, steeped and striped in scarlet and carmine by the sun setting.” And for the third time the King fixed his eyes on Scatha and asked “What else?” “I’ve seen rain,” Scatha answered him, “and I’ve heard thunder. I’ve heard the fluting of the birds that fly on burning wings under bronze skies, and the roar of the surf on the shores of circling seas. The wind keened for me in the mountains of Mai Nguy, and the trees whispered secrets to me when I slept at Amin-Ra. The storms of Selha’a made a song for me, and the snows of Sheyari were my serenade.” And the King looked him up and down, and saw no treasure-bag nor any thing that was not Scatha’s own, and demanded of him “And none of these wonders provided you a gift?” “A painter would make you a picture to weep at,” said Scatha, “and a sculptor could cast a scene to amaze. A musician could score symphonies inspired by what I’ve seen. I’ve heard and held enough marvels to give any craftsman material for a masterpiece.” “And yet,” said the King grimly, rising, “you bring nothing.” Scatha said softly “I have brought what I can.” “And that is?” demanded the King. “I can’t paint a portrait for you or of you, nor make you a model or a melody.” Scatha said. “My King, I’m a minstrel and my work is words. I’ve brought a fortune in fables: high words and low ones, words to charm and words to chill. Words for the dark and words that dazzle, words for colour, words for cadence, clear words, contorted words, careful and carefree.” Then for the first time he turned his glance towards the Princess Eanwyth, and said to her “For nine long years you’ve had the all the fruits of my craft and the gifts of my tongue, and all my wealth of words. Let that be enough.” And Eanwyth rose from her seat, and crossed the tiled floor; and she set her hands in Scatha’s and said to him “I am well satisfied.” And the King saw that Scatha had remained steadfast through years of hardship, and though his heart was heavy within him he would not cross his daughter’s deepest wish, and so gave his blessing to their marriage. So it was that Scatha the bard won his Lady Eanwyth, and they were wed three days later at the rising of the moon, there in the high hall of her father’s castle. There we must leave them, there beneath the stars and the shimmering void: for what passed afterward, whether they had sons or daughters, singly or severally, even whether they stayed in the lands of Eanwyth’s ancestors or rather roamed the starways after Scatha’s inclination, we will never know, for that tale no song, nor story, nor saga tells. Feedback much appreciated as always. Nem -----signature----- BeTS Best Author '08 NEW Bad Dreams - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29893091 Eleven Summers - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29657584 Into The Shining Day - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29224914
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Persephone_Kore Registered: Jan '06	Date Posted: 1/17/08 2:40pm Subject: RE: Scatha's Journey - A GFFA legend (one post)
	I'm always glad to see you post. I like Scatha's description of his gift best of all, both in concept and execution. -----signature----- Protégé: Chosen: http://boards.theforce.net/f/b1/28612428 Protégé: Padawans: http://boards.theforce.net/f/b1/29531610 A Rose in the Ashes: http://boards.theforce.net/f/b1/29028814 Lost Ones: http://boards.theforce.net/f/b1/29061459
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dianethx Registered: Mar '02	Date Posted: 1/17/08 4:07pm Subject: RE: Scatha's Journey - A GFFA legend (one post)
	I liked the whole thing. There was a lovely lilt to the story and I could hear the Gaelic cadence in it somehow (whether you put it in there or not). Loved that he had to go three times three years and each time he rested 3 days. It was really lovely! Great job. -----signature----- Betrayal - http://boards.theforce.net/s/b1/10935143 updated 11/2/09 jedidas3's Master Merlin - Diplomatic Immunity - http://boards.theforce.net/nswff/b10808/30459852
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Meredith_Kenobi Registered: Jul '05	Date Posted: 1/17/08 6:54pm Subject: RE: Scatha's Journey - A GFFA legend (one post) - Date Edited: 1/17/08 6:54pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Meredith_Kenobi
	speechless silence That was breath-takingly beautiful. It sounded like one of the tales that Tionne would tell; one of those stories that no one really knows where it origninated from or how old it is. It sounded.....timeless. That's the word! Timeless. A story that will be told for years and years and years; neverending. I absolutely adored this. You did such a good job on it. Take a bow, JediNemsis. -----signature----- Proud to be ZaraValinor's Padawan Delighted to be brodiew's Master
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VaderLVR64 Title: Manager Emeritus Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 1/18/08 7:31am Subject: RE: Scatha's Journey - A GFFA legend (one post)
	Absolutely stunning! But your work always is. Then something in his words touched the King’s soul, and he remembered how hot his own love for Eanwyth’s mother had burned in the days of his youth. And the desire for Scatha’s blood lessened, and after a time he said to the boy “You have your life, and it is in my mind that you speak truly; but swear now on the sacred things of this world that you will not defy me again.” And Scatha stood before the King’s throne, proud and unafraid, and said “In the names of the fixed stars and the free, the spirits of the void, of earth, of ice, of water, wind and fire; in the name of my honour and my ancestors and my own living blood, so do I swear.” And another while passed, and the King said “My daughter is yet young, and it may be that her mind will alter.” Then the memory of his own love plucked at him again, but he hardened his heart against it, remembering too Scatha’s disloyalty, and said grimly “For three years you are banished from my court and sight, for your defiance of my orders. Go now, and do not return before that span is past unless you are minded to die in the land where you were born.” I particularly loved that section. -----signature----- Team Eric: Because undead never looked so good. Soldiers' Angels http://soldiersangels.org/ 2114 soldiers waiting for someone to care
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Beta-Commando Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 1/18/08 5:01pm Subject: RE: Scatha's Journey - A GFFA legend (one post)
	Wow! Astounding! After the first few paragraphs I was thinking; "Why has LucasBooks not discovered ths one?" I just wish it were more than a one post... Ah well... This story's going into Word and Saved Under: 'MY Favorite Fan Fiction.' -----signature----- Star Wars - The Second Saga - Episode I: In the Shadows http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=27987805&brd=10475 Proud Member of the BFPBBRPFC "Bring the Fuzzy Pink Banner Back to the Role Playing Forum!"
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JediNemesis Registered: Mar '03	Date Posted: 1/26/08 3:44pm Subject: RE: Scatha's Journey - A GFFA legend (one post)
	Hello, people Persephone_Kore I'm always glad to see you post. That's . . . genuinely wonderful of you. I'm seriously considering putting that in my profile, if not sig I like Scatha's description of his gift best of all, both in concept and execution. That was an early bit; I had so much fun trying to work what I wanted to say into the bizarrely elaborate style I was using. Thanks for reading dianethx I liked the whole thing. There was a lovely lilt to the story and I could hear the Gaelic cadence in it somehow (whether you put it in there or not). Gaelic? Interesting. I know it owes a lot to the Gaelic-Celtic style of myth, but I wasn't deliberately going for the Gaelic vibe the way I do with the Ionnàs stories. Loved that he had to go three times three years and each time he rested 3 days. There are some numbers that show up all over myth, and three is a classic. It was really lovely! Thanks! Meredith_Kenobi speechless silence I love stunning people into wordlessness. That was breath-takingly beautiful. It sounded like one of the tales that Tionne would tell; one of those stories that no one really knows where it originated from or how old it is. Yes. Absolutely what I was going for and I'm glad someone thinks I made it Just one of those stories that seems to have always been around. I absolutely adored this. You did such a good job on it. Thank you very much. VaderLVR Absolutely stunning! But your work always is. Thanks, but it's a deeply embarrassed thanks. I particularly loved that section. IIRC that was one of the last bits to slot into place - this was one of the ones that got written in an exceedingly random way. Beta-Commando Wow! Astounding! Ta muchly After the first few paragraphs I wa thinking "Why has LucasBooks not discovered ths one?" Wrong continent, far too young, incapable of writing to commission or indeed to deadlines . . . might all have something to do with it Thanks for clicking and I'm glad you liked it so much. Thanks again, everyone. Nem -----signature----- BeTS Best Author '08 NEW Bad Dreams - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29893091 Eleven Summers - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29657584 Into The Shining Day - http://boards.theforce.net/a/b1/29224914
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