Before - Legends "Legends of the Force"(epic drama with OCs), book 1, 32 Chapters, FIN

The driver & his two companions were on the run from the police, WarmNyota_SweetAyesha. Why they drove down the stairs, I have no clue. Something similar happened here in Berlin already. In May 2017 exactly. Back then people got injured.

 

children as soldiers that happens everywhere

 

It's heart breaking to think about.

Good Entry Azure.

 

earlybird-obi-wan: Unfortunatly it does, dear bird.

Darth_Furio: The latest updates are new. Those text sections were not in the original text. This is why everything is so short and takes longer than usual. Plus I forget to contact WarmNyota_SweetAyesha all the time when I have something! Even DarthUncle who actually lives together with me since August 2007 has no clue about those tiny text bits before I place them online.

 

And update time:

(Still Chapter 23)


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Each hour spent in the desertof the Mare Coloris is a blessing for me. No politics, no religion, just the laws that apply to the rule of tooth and claw. I teach my protégés all that my clan once taught me and they drink it all in.

Daná is way better with a staff than Grianán, but the latter is very skilled in the ´Dance of War´, better known as caporeia.

As for Aranea, Mora and Luna – they are all poisonous snakes. They do their exercises with such deadly elegance and precision that it occurred to me that I have carved three further lances since the drama of Polysýndeton.

The future will show which of my weapons is the most lethal to Luçien.
But this is more than revenge. The girls simply flourish from their stay in the desert. Besides all the self-defence and attack techniques they learn how to travel with the cattle during the rain season.

They take part in tribal rituals and household tasks.

I am very proud of them, even though I make a mental note to let Grianán stay away from cookery pots. All that she prepares has either a strange taste or is a sore to the eye. She also manages to let almost everything look like a disgusting stew pot.

*******************************************************************

In the week before her ninth birthday Grianán and I rest on a hill top close to the village. Daná, Aranea, Mora and even little Luna do some sparing with the village girls.

Heartily, I yawn into the lazy silence.

Grianán, always a keen student, already had excelled today and deserved a little break. Her blond head rests on my belly, while I am lying flat on the soil. The giant tree trunk grants us but little shadow shadow.

At present the forest of monkey bread trees – known as Adansonia – is without leaves and therefore without any twilight. Only when the monsoon arrive this seemingly cursed place will be a green oasis of life again. Then the haggard branches will carry juicy, white blossoms. Until then there will be no real protection from the strong sunlight.

A comicus – a funny looking dune cricket - walks hastily over the dusty, ochreous forest soil.

I smirk when I hear that the chitin shell of the insect breaks with a horrendous crack. Then further cracking noises are to be heard in rhythmical intervals.

When Grianán has finished chewing I ask with a mix of tenderness and curiosity, “Is indeed all well with Sereno? I have the feeling that you try to hide something from me.”

The recent letters of the young Prince seem forced. They also have lost their regularity. The boy is hiding something from me.

I go for the straight approach. “You and your siblings treat me like a retard at times, without even knowing you are doing so. The Force may unite you, but it separates me from you lot. It is not fair that you have means of communication that I can never posses. How am I supposed to know what is going on with Sereno?”

Grianán sighs softly, before answering, “We did not mean to shut you out.”

“Righty, ho!”

“It is just very difficult at times to put our feelings and sensations into words.” She sounds hurt. “Besides, when we have a surprise for you, it should stay one until the right moment has come.”

I huff, before saying, “My traumatic experiences with so-called surprises are piling up to a mountain already.”

“This one you will like, Isa.” Grianán sounds very reassured and certain.

Suddenly, Éleos is looking down on us. “Disturb? Mi dipiace molto.”

“Of course you are not disturbing us. We just had a usual siesta.”

Grianán gets up to greet her older brother that she has not seen for a couple of sun years. Neither have I.

I pop up on my elbows to have a better view.

While I scan the prince, I cannot help to notice that he has grown into strapping young lad. His facial lines have lost the sweetness of childhood completely. His limbs have gotten longer and leaner.

But the promise of manhood is also in the way Èleos carries himself. He moves with the self-assurance of a druid.

In the back of my mind an image flashes up.

There is an island. And on it is a lonely human being; a bearded man starring out to the horizon. The man wears robes of some kind.

Who ever that man is, he is of no importance to me. I am sure of it.

“You are supposed to be with your Elfin foster-parents,” I remark.

“Our beloved nanny that matters to us,” Èleos muses.

Gallantly, he helps me up, making me feel like I am a fragile Elfin princess. His sweetness has something annoying, but his grey eyes make my anger melt away all to easy.

“Especially on a celebration day like this one should be with family, n'est-ce pas ?” he adds with a wink to Grianán.

I know the feast days of the Draconian calender by heart, including the Elfin High Feasts. Today is supposed to be a common day, nothing special scheduled.

“What is the meaning of all this?” I inquire.

“You will see,” laughs Éleos. “Just lean back and relax! We take care of everything.”

Not much later I am dragged towards the village, Grianán and her older brother framing me like body guards.

********************************************************************

The next sun hours there is much laughing and chatting. Yet a part of me keeps feeling uncomfortable.

The villagers of Sendero have joined in into our family union. Tons of food are carried onto the village square, but they do not consist of regional plants and dishes. I spot gyros, tzatziki, mousaka and baklava.

Narthex is sitting in the shadow of a tent roof, giving orders in plain Basic. Agathos is right at his side, beaming in a way that I have not seen in ages.

I approach the two Amnionian men slowly, trying not to collide with people carrying stuff.

“What sort of feast is this going to be?” I ask, keeping a lit on my temper.

The munson is still too far away to deliver a credible explanation for all this party business.

My thoughts make the strangest loops, but I come to no satisfactory conclusions.

“It is a baby shower. Sereno is going to be a father,” beams Agathos, his eyes shimmering with tears of joy. “He heard it this morning from his wife.”

“What?”

He must be talking about another Sereno.

Not about the persistent boy with apple green eyes who had loved to cling to my knees, when I had sent him off to bed.

The boy used to spit water melon pits in the direction of the Shesha just to check their alertness as the royal bodyguards.

Who slipped into the royal crypts, wanting to smear finger paint on the skulls of his ancestors of the first and second dynasty.

And certainly not the boy who had to touch every animal and plant, no matter if they were poisonous or not.

“He cannot be,” I murmur, half to myself, half to the smiley men that look up to me.

Sereno just has turned sixteen. Of course it was not unusual in my culture or in his own to marry so young, but I fail to believe the news. For me he is still a boy who has wounded knees and a running nose.

“Three moons ago he married in secret. We heard about it at dawn,” Agathos moves on, while Narthex gave helpful villagers orders again. “He stood in front of my bed, Éleos in tow.”

“Married in secret?”

A shadow of the future comes to life without a warning. It is a female voice. She speaks with a trembling, rather excited voice.It is the woman with the sad, browneyes. The one who willend up with her heart broken by her beloved one.

“Annie, I want to have our baby back home on Naboo,” she moves on. “We could go to the lake country where no one would know... where we would be safe. I could go early and fix up the baby's room. I know the perfect spot, right by the gardens.”

I silence her voice with all my willpower, concentrating on Agathos again. He must have had a longer speech.

“... first due to the rites of Parhelion, whose priests regard marriage as a holy sacrament, and then due to the rites of Gwenynen.”

I manage to find my own voice again. “Who is she? Her name sounds strange.”

Grianán comes along, carrying a basket of mangos. “She is one of the Gwyllion.”

Very slowly I sink onto the bask carpet, coming down next to Agathos and Narthex.

A Gwyllion, one of the shy Forest Elves of the Silva Lacrimae. Officially, their very existence is denied both by the Daoine Sidhe and the Sleah Maith. It is a delicate matter to which theOphidiae have closed their eyes until now. The marriage of Sereno is a clear political statement.

“Une café,s'il vous plaît'!” My voice is shaky, while my body in agony. Especially my heart. One coffee, if you please!

 

Not everywhere that women being called poisonous snakes is meant to compliment them
So,jay, better executed versions of the sand snakes from Games of Thrones rather sad Dorne's cycle (I know, these characters were there well before you knew of the Song of Ice and Fire books, and the tv series).

Great that Grianan isn't good at everything (like she also isn't as good as others with a staff/spear) - though maybe the female hero not being great at cooking is becoming a bit of a cliche nowadays? But, you exectute it well.

That is a nice party, but as usual, filled with portents of a possibly dire future. Again, suspense, gladdness and waryness fill me upon reading it. I hope for the best, but I can only agree with Isabeau that

seems the best response, for now.

 

great comments on Grianan
and her visions of the future

 

Due to WarmNyota_SweetAyesha I was able to smooth out the most striking mistakes today. And thanks DarthUncle that you also had a look on the text.

As for your comment. I did not know of any George RR Martin when I wrote the first drafts of this story about 28 years ago. See, a lot of my love for Marion Zimmer Bradley and her novels have flown into this text, like a raindrop back to the Mother Ocean. Snakes were a very important part in her novel "The Firebrand" about Cassandra of Troy.

But mostly my inspiration was Frank Herbert with all his "Dune" novels.

And ever since I read "The Da Vinci Code" by Dan Brown, I was happy that somebody else did mention the ancient snake line. In a different context that I had in mind, but I was happy anyway.

As for the visions that Isa just had I could tell you, but then my cuddly owl would need to sit on your nose tonight and take your breath away.

earlybird-obi-wan: Thank you for reading and commenting as usual. The next chapter is up on Sunday.


I wonder if Darth_Furio & Cowgirl Jedi 1701 will also stop by. Perhaps this even wins DARTH_MU ´s interest. Certainly Darth Gangrenous will give me a smile.

 

I get the sense it has been some time in story since the last update.
How time flies.
One day a toddler is becoming an apprentice, and now a deadly weapon in a blink of an eye.

And them Force visions. Frustrating things, are they not?

I would have dropped by sooner, but somehow I didn't find the post.

 

I only tag you and/ or PM you about updates of mine, when you really, really want me to. You can say so in this thread or via PM, DARTH_MU.

Thanks for stopping by, especially right now when I try to recover from a dreadful movie that I rented from the local library for 2 Euro. (That is the price for any "bestseller", any fresh release from the market: including books, DVDs, CDs and comics. The other library material is of course free of charge.) It was called "The Wall" and I liked it less than "The Mummy 3: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor". What a .... hm, nonsense movie!

After the weekend I will try to follow your kind advice about the DA picture links.

As for Isa, she tells the story in a different way than Sionnach, Grianán and Lucien will do.

Her view on time & life is still very influenced from being a daughter of the crossroads, a desert nomad.

 

Oh sure, if you maintain a PM list for th is fic, please do add me to it
I never heard of the Wall, but yeah, the Mummy 3 could have been better.

 

Please do NOT watch it, DARTH_MU! It will offend you in many ways! Most of all your intelligence and your colour perception. It is simply not "House of Flying Daggers" which inspired me on Grianán learning the ways of a warrior and made me use the "Beauty song" for the Nagina story.

 

Okay, DarthUncle this is what I have been so extremely busy with but did not update before now. There were some other fanfics I wanted to comment on nicely before.

WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, I will send you a PM because I update before you beta-edited. I have to hurry or the laundry crinkles.

Kahara, Darth_Furio, earlybird-obi-wan, Darth Gangrenous & Cowgirl Jedi 1701 please enjoy! And inform me immediately if you feel that it is wrong of me to tag you.



Chapter 24:

Even after Daná comes along to bring me a big mug of local bean café to calm my nerves, I keep feeling horrible.

A dreadful war is on its way. Not a traditional Star Wars, but an Elfin uproar. The intended marriage is a political bomb. A statement the House Tjiehennet should not make. Not now.

There is only me on the empty throne, a descendant of a former slave race. The true heiress, Force-blind or not, is still under-age. In the old days all this would have not mattered, but I have given a promise to a dying queen: to protect her snake-spawn with my life.

I gaze out of the hut I have been placed in.

The desert village is still like an excited bee hive. People keep walking forth and back with food and drink.

I shake my head is dismay.

Love towards the royal off-spring and loyalty to the interest of the Draconian throne are difficult to combine. I do not like to be the bad guy here, the one who has to crash Sereno's heart with her boots. He committed no crime. He is just a youngster who fell in love against all odds.

Suddenly, there it is again: the future. Once again it has caught up with me.

Sighing, I close my eyes in order to be concentrate on the incoming visions.

The city is dark apart from a few lanterns. The mourners, recognisable by their clothing and their grave faces, walk in reverent silence.

Six huge animals, feline by their appearance, drag an open coffin through the streets. The woman inside it looks like a fairy-tale princess ready for a ball night. Like she takes but a nap before all the excitement waiting for her. In her hands she cradles an amulet.

I snap my eyes open, annoyed.

That amulet reminds me a lot of the one my mother passed on to me The only palpable memory I have left of her. The rest of my memories had to be retrieved the hard way by a sort of pilgrimage through the dune sea of Sapuhru. Luçien had tampered too much with my brain for whatever reasons.

As I put the mug away, a huge shadow appears in the door frame.

“The lost boy has returned,” I smirk, while my proud feline heart melts inside my chest.

As Sereno saunters towards me I can see that he is dressed in the suede clothing of a true Gwyllion. His blond hair is shoulder length and flowers are woven into it. To be exact a dozen of white orchids of the royal pyramid. They are held alive by his unusual Force skill which the priestess Clementia refers to as 'plant surge'.

“You look well.” I gaze into a face that has become rough around the edges. Into eyes that have a knowing look and no more childish innocence in it.Quickly, I add, “But you are troublesome as ever.”

His mischievous smile widens. It actually reminds me of a grinning bobcat, which is common in the region of his bride.

“You are my substitute mother. Not to invite you to my wedding would have been a huge insult.”

“I still feel like scratching your eyes out, boy,” I snarl and bare my teeth at him.

Fearlessly, Sereno plops down next to me, reaching out for my hands. “I have missed you, prickly or not.”

In one swift move, I cup his neck with one hand and press his brow against mine. Then I take a deep breath.

He smells of fur trees and love's bliss, of wilderness and camp-fire.

I begin stroking his left cheek with my free hand. “You can smile as much as you like, but the political landscape of Draconis will never be the same.”

“The only thing constant is change. That is at least what my Lidérc nanny used to say.” He winks at me. “She is true nomad stock, you know.”

I try my best not to fall for his charme. “Diplomacy is a hard-won art form nonetheless. You even made your father and your grand-father drop their usual countenance.”

Sereno twitches his nose. “Hey, I did listen when grand-pa gave us history lessons.”

“Why am I not fully convinced here?” I demand to know.

“Ever since the peace treaty of Dún Barr was signed the first prospect of the Holy Isle is: 'Love as thou wilt'. What can possibly be wrong with love and flower power?”

Of course he tries to rub the most sacred Thelema of his people straight into my face.

“Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law,” I correct Sereno. “And what you seem to forget is that your duty is not only to yourself. The Thelema also speaks about your duty to others, to mankind, basically to all other beings and things.”

Something like anger creeps into his eyes and he jerks away from me.“Have you never been in love?”

“Love is a luxury I never had any time for,” I say without regret. “There were children to rear, a throne to keep safe for your sister Celestris and two old fools to argue with constantly.”

His pupils widen in shock. “You mean that you have never...”

To strangle him would achieve nothing. “I thought that I taught you politeness towards a true lady at least.”

“But...”

I roll my eyes at him. “Just because you already started a tribe of your own, not everybody else around you needs to.”

“Pardon me for asking, Isa, but did you not at least...”

“No, Sereno. As I have already said: there was no time and no reason.”

Baffled, he takes me in. “But you are beautiful.”

“A lot of 'but 's' come out of your mouth, boy,” I rebuke him.

Stubbornly, he juts his chin forward. “Did you inspire Éleos to do the same?”

“What?” I blink in quick succession.

“He says that a Force user should fully concentrate on the Force instead of bothering with a lover or a family.”

“What your twin brother does, is fully based on his view of the universe. If he wants to be chaste as fresh fallen mountain snow, than let him.”

Frustrated we stare at one another like two warriors pausing in battle.

It is Sereno who cannot stand the heavy silence any more. “Our baby is a blessing,” he assures me.

His voice mixes with somebody else's. Darker, deeper, more passionate and in denial.

I almost choke on my own tongue.

“Isa?” Sereno asks uncertain.

There they are again, the voices of the future. So strong, that I have to release them from my head somehow.

“Two liquid gems, indescribably precious-because they were his. He had earned them. As he had earned her; as he had earned the child she bore. He had paid for them with innocent blood.”

********************************************************************

Later on Narthex tells me that I have done a lot of screaming. That my eyeballs have rolled back and forth continuously. That there had been white foam all over my mouth and chin.

It had taken the entire royal bunch to get hold of me for I had fought like a madwoman.

Umbra, the village elder, had to carry my unconscious body into her hut. There, the local shaman woman had sent the Tjiehennet off-spring away. Only when the last unwilling child had left, she started to drive out the so-called demons.

It took me an entire week to recover from my spasm. Therefore I had missed the entire baby shower. But that was not the hardest thing. I had not been able to wave out Grianán. She was with Her Holiness Mórag MagUhidir now.

“I will never able to forgive myself,” I mutter from my sickbed.

Èleos sits next to me in full lotus posture, also called padmasana.There are deep shadows under his eyes. “Please do!” he begs me. “We live this very moment. The future is an event that has not has taken place yet. The Force is always in motion and with it life itself. It is by far too early to determine the bloodline of our family.”

“But there is a change it will intermingle with the one of Dealg, the Force bender.”

He gives me a sad smile. “The famous sky walker?”

“That being is Luçien's father, not old Alezan Ankou.”

The young man seems to consider my revelation. “But via Cousin Sionnach my house and his already became one.”

I shake my head. “Eibhear is not his. Nor Rune. They have different fathers. And the twins are among the Dead of Polysýndeton.”

“I never knew he lost any children to the Force storm that Adamah conjured.” There are tears in the corners of his eyes. “That explains a lot.”

“No, it doesn't. He was a religious fanatic even before Doom's Day. Did it ever occur to you that he is from the Secret Guild? The one that hunts Force witches and Force wizards?”

Èleos shifts his fingers into a pensive mudra that I recognize from Clementia. “The Sons of the Dawn?”

“Wrong. Their lot calls themselves Ordo Hermeticus Aurorae Rubrae.”

“Hermetic Order of the Red Dawn,” he translates into plain Basic. “But they are dangerous and forbidden.”

“Am I the only household member who regularly goes to those secret service briefings?” I snap.

He looks confused.

I prop up on my elbows, feeling the solidified loam as a hard reality. “When you really want to be the founder of a monk order who protects this realm, then start thinking in big terms. One sand ant is not a problem. Their entire nest is.”

Silently, he gazes at me.

“My step-brother has a carte blanche that allows him to interrogate a Force-sensitive on any planet of this sun system at any time and by any means. Do you have any idea what would happen to somebody like Grianán who can talk to the Dead?”

His deep frown looks ugly on his otherwise charming face. “But his religion is not ours.”

“The madness of the god queens has been a problem for many inhabitants of this sun system for aeons. Of course the strangest alliances have formed. Ask Misera, if you don't believe me.”

He makes a defensive hand movement. “Of course, I believe you. But this sounds so queer. So contradictory. Basically, without any logic behind it whatsoever.”

I grant him a grim smile. “Welcome to my reality!”

His next question is no big surprise for me. “Could His Lordship really harm our Gri for what she is?”

I cannot help but raise an eyebrow at the young man. “Do you think I gave my utmost to steal her in body and soul just because I like a bad pun? Because I am brutal? If she ever falls in the hands of that villain, I want her to survive that trial.”

“Would it not be easier to kill him instead?” Èleos asks too hopeful.

“The easy path is always the one to the dark side,” I remember him. “Besides, your sister never goes for the easiest approach. She is like a complicated present box. You never know what to expect from her resourceful mind. I want no clarity for Luçien either. She will be either his greatest triumph or his doom.”

In unease he bites into his underlip. “What about Daná and the girls?”

“There always has to be a backup plan. One Force user alone is not enough to save the day as you may have noticed.”

“You are indeed a cunning she-warrior, Isa,” Èleos praises me.

“I am all that the royal House Tjiehenet needs me to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Solitaire was wise to choose me for a mission she could not complete on her own. I simply took over from her.”

He crooks his blond head. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Child education is never easy,” I quip. “This is why both your father and your grandfather have grey hair by now. I will simply go on a suicide mission for you lot, when I feel that high age catches up with me.”

********************************************************************

(To be continued!)

 

Good way to go from the well meaning Sereno, and his brother, via those traumatic flash-forwards, to a exposition well integrated into a talk with a too naive Jedi-like hopeful.

 

DarthUncle: Thanks for the quickest beta-edit ever! I will walk over to the desk and kiss you BEFORE I hang up the laundry, okay?

 

Superb. I betaed and also took the chance to absorb the intense conversations with Sereno and Elios. Whew, the philosophical stances are totally complicated by the flash-forwards. And this compounds Isa's concerns about Grianan too.

 

Isa has a lot on her mind. She cannot protect all and she cannot influence Lucien

 

Hi there! There will be more to beta soon, WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, but RL has thrown some mega deadlines into my way that I need to deal with first.

earlybird-obi-wan: This is exactly how I feel most of my time! Welcome to my world of feeling responsible for others! Sigh!

 

Okay, another quick update in here as well, my dears: DarthUncle, Kahara, earlybird-obi-wan, DARTH_MU, WarmNyota_SweetAyesha & Cowgirl Jedi 1701.


(still Chapter 24)



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When the great day finally is there, I am made to stand in the birth tent, Agathos by my side.

Shortly after our arrival we had been separated from the rest of the royal family, who had also come along.

Gwenynen is already in labour, so we have been led to her and her nervous husband Sereno.

I am sad for the young Elfin woman that her own parents cannot be with her right now. Tawelydd and his Ophidiae wife Ianua had been killed by a hunting party of Elfin noblemen last summer. I will ask the secret service to investigate in that matter.

There have been more cold blooded murders like this in recent time. The life of a Gwyllion is not worth anything at all to those Elves who consider themselves to be of true blood. Those radical individuals actually refer to themselves as High Elves or the High Ones.

Sourly, I press my lips together.

Racial thinking is always a dangerous matter. It brings a lot of unnecessary pain and sorrow. Even I have learned to peacefully live with other races since I have stepped on Draconian soil.

There also had been a lot of issues to rethink about the Force and its users. Arcānā's children have indeed taught me much about tolerance. The Gwyllion are busy to teach me a new lesson.

After the Thousand Year Long War this tribe of forest loving Elves have mixed with their former enemies, the reptile blooded Ophidiae. It has happened peacefully and in deepest respect for one another.

The birth of Sereno's child is another strong link being forged between the two different humanoid races.

To be among the copper skinned Gwyllion, who look more like humans than Elves, is a very strange sensation. No history lesson by some impersonal teaching device for children – holocrons – could have prepared me for the extraordinary beauty that I am to witness.

The Forest Elves live high in the tree tops of the juniperus saxicola and the mammoth trees. Their tree villages, constructions of wood and wicker, can only be reached by rope ladders and pulleys.

To hear that the tribe of Sereno's wife calls themselves Adar, the bird people, comes as no big surprise to me. Especially after I have climbed six hundred meter up to their village square.

Agathos has travelled up here with his private shuttle. Considering his age and physical condition I can live with that. The village of Fan Cill have been worth the trouble of aching muscles and sore hands.

The Forest Elves themselves are also a very astonishing sight. They wear vegetable tanned leather and fluffy animal pelts. The garments are elaborately decorated with feathers and wooden pearls. The ornaments of both the Ophidea and the Elfin nations are displayed, forming new patterns and symbols.

All in all the Gwyllion look more well fed than usual Elves and are much smaller in height. Their movements though are as graceful and fluent, yet more lively. That formal stiffness that characterises other Elves is fully absent. They have the energy of songbirds, fluttering from branch to branch.

They carry their hair long without exception. Some wear it free and others in more artful styles, to which flowers, leaves or feathers are attached.

Most faces shine in that special copper tone of Gwenynen's, but there are faces as fair-skinned as Sereno is. The races are still mixing, right under the nose of the Draconian government and the Elfin nobility. I notice many elderly Ophidiae who come from the desert regions like Umbra.

There is so much to see for me, that I move as slowly as a bantha cow making her way over a very steep dune.

I watch Sereno holding the tiny hands of his wife. She is about one head smaller than he is. Her lips are like that of a little bird. With a trembling mouth he breathes a soft kiss against her brow.

Gwenynen has much in common with her sister-in-law Grianán. One thing is very different though: her soothing scent. The Forest Elf smells of pine needles, sun flowers and honey. It is an intoxicating, teasing odour.

Unfortunately, it provokes the future.

“From the moment I met you…
all those years ago…
not a day has gone by when I haven’t thought of you.
And now that I’m with you again…
I’m in agony.
The closer I get to you, the worse it gets.
The thought of not being with you… I can’t breath.
I’m haunted by the kiss
that you should never have given me.
My heart is beating…
hoping that kiss will not become a scar.
You are in my very soul… tormenting me.
What can I do?
I will do anything you ask.
If you are suffering as much as I am,
please, tell me.”

Sereno is too occupied to notice what is going on in my mind. Slowly and lovingly he kisses Gwenynen's knuckles. I count five knuckles, which is very human like and not Elfish.

Regarding the future, I am suddenly glad that they have chosen to be open about their relationship. To life a lie is a dreadful thing to do.

The Forest Elf smiles at her husband, her small girlish face full of peace. There is no pain when the child arrives. Nobody is dying. All is well. Whatever the future just tried to tell me, it is irrelevant.

The parents of the baby are united. Their families witness their deep love. It is also a single child and no twins.

By now it seems to me that the entire Adar tribe tries to squeeze into the birth tent, too.

Agathos took hold on one of my shoulder blades. I heard him crying almost soundlessly, being overwhelmed with happiness.

“Satisfied, my prince?” Gwenynen whispers. Her bright eyes, shaped like those of a human, gleam like to jaspis stones in the fire light. A dark yellow huge.

“You are wonderful, my little bee. Our daughter is perfect.”

The newborn is cleaned in a large wooden bowl, while the medicine woman takes care of the sweaty mother, who rests on a little mountain of animal skins.

********************************************************************

The name giving ceremony for the newborn takes place several hours later, when the full moon stands high above the tree village. Helygen, the former medicine woman of the tribe and incidentally also the grandmother of Gwenynen, leads us through it.

“We gather today to bless a child,
A new life that has become part of our world.
We gather today to name this child.
To call a thing by name is to give it power,
and so today we shall give this child a gift.
We will welcome her into our hearts and lives
and bless her with a name of her own.”

The two hundred year old Elf reminds me of an ancient willow tree, flexible and full of knots in her extremities. Once she had been a stunning beauty. Now she is oozing wisdom. Her snake blood is so strong that I suspect her to die in about fifty summers. She is not blessed with a long unnatural life.

“To be a parent is to love and nurture,
to lead a child to be a good person.
It is to guide them along the right path
and to both teach them and learn from them.
It is to rein them in, and to give them wings.
It is to smile at their joy, and weep at their pain.
It is to walk beside them, and then one day allow them to walk alone.
To be a parent is a great gift we have given ourselves.
and the greatest responsibility we shall ever have.”

Sereno cradles his wife in his arms while Agathos brings his new born grand-daughter to the village square.

Mwyaren, a cousin of Gwenynen, holds a block of salt in her hands.

Rhyd, Tan Gwyllt and his blood brother Cwmwly, three young tribal warriors, hold the other ingredients for the ritual: three white candles, three wooden bowls, incense sticks.

The four elements are addressed formally, incense sticks are lit and a circle song rises towards the night sky.

Agathos and I have to circle the freshly baked parents, who now hold their infant girl. The benevolent spirits are invited by our movements and it also helps to keep away the evil ones.

This is when I see him the first time, an old man with white hair and the smile of a kind grandfather. But his eyes burn with the fire of the dark side. He mutters, “Power, unlimited power!”

I blink for the man is half-way in our time line and half-way in the future. Like Arcānā he produces lightening with his fingertips.

“Go away!” I mutter and his eyes widen.

While I snarl at him, he turns into a much younger version of himself and he holds a baby in his hands. “Nagina,” he says. “It means 'pearl' in some regions of this galaxy and 'star' in others.”

Through time and space we gaze at one another.

When I attack him right now, the baby dies and I cannot, will not kill a baby.

Not this Nagina, who ever she is, nor the daughter of Sereno.

I will not be a child murder like the young man with the sad eyes. This is not who am I meant to be. “Protect and survive!” I mutter.

Old Helygen snaps her head towards me like a reptile would. I cannot judge her gaze, but her smile is terrifying.

 

Beautiful rich details of the Forest Elves & a gorgeous moving birthing.

This is compelling particularly: Racial thinking is always a dangerous matter. It brings a lot of unnecessary pain and sorrow. Truly insightful in our time and place as well.

AzureAngel2 -- thank you for posting in the midst of all kinds of heartache. It makes it even more meaningful.

 

I really hope they get the serial murderer soon. Like yesterday (in universe). Senseless killings of innocents....

Well, at least there is light. A birth.

But that vision. le gasp. UNLIMITED POWER.... *shudders* Does that mean.... The girl will be... of the Dark Side?

edit:
*dance* Nagina cameo! *dance*

 

powerful scene with the birth and visions of the future

 

WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: I can just repeat that Marion Zimmer Bradley and Frank Herbert influenced me in many ways.

DARTH_MU: I am glad that your razor sharp eyes spotted a lot of things in this humble update, but I would prefer not to spoiler you!

earlybird-obi-wan: If you liked it that much, dear, you will get more, because I had some stuff ready before sad news hit my hard & the left knee of my husband started to get worse:


Chapter 25:


Apart from all my bleak future visions Heulween is a lovely child. She is easy to please and always smiley. The deep bond that her parents share makes her flourish like a pretty autumn flower. With her blond hair and her round face she looks like a dandelion.

Wanting to please the royal household, who had to bear a lot of misery in the recent past, Sereno and Gwenynen stay on with their baby girl. They share a large set of chambers in the family wing of the ancient fortress.

But the young mother has the same feeling about stone walls like me. Just after a couple of frustrating indoor days, she starts to roam the surrounding forests grounds a lot. Sometimes by herself and at others with her large in-law family, including me.

Through Gwenynen's kind eyes I learn to have more regard of the enormous forest of Ceilonwyn. She teaches me about the local forest fruits, fauna and a big deal about herbal plants.

But the golden days do not last forever and the weather changes drastically and so does nature. To soon the leaves of the deciduous trees turn into colourful flashes, sailing down onto muddy forest ground. The rain showers around the midwinter castle increase. They are different from the daily showers of Cunabula, for they bring a dreadful cold with it, that sinks deep into my bones.

But then again, the Night of the Dead, that the Elves call Samhain, always gives me the creeps. It is a high feast that I cannot cherish. A desert nomad never looks back, tries not to remember those who are gone. For my people it brings back luck to call their names.

Within a relatively short time I develop a nasty cold. The result is that I get fed a lot of hot chicken broth by a dedicated Narthex. He also makes me drink a lot of herbal mixtures with lime-blossom honey and my full bladder makes me visit the toilet as much as a pregnant woman.

Even my sauna trips or visits to the nearby hot fountains do not change a single thing for me. My cold clings to me like a vice. It is obvious that my skin longs for the strong solar radiation of the equator.

I stay on though for I do not trust Luçien to stay out of trouble.

The time between the Feast of Mabon and the Feast of Imbloc never is a real holiday for me. It is tough work. I always try to be ahead of him and protect my family by all means.

“I ask myself why he roams the forest at full moon,” I say aloud, interrupting the chess game that Agathos and Narthex are playing. “There is something cyclical about it.”

“You worry too much,” comments the widowed prince consort without looking up. “You always do, Isabeau.”

I snort like an arrogant eopie. “To have Luçien here in this castle is to invite trouble through the front door.”

At this instance the library door flies open and the demon himself appears, a screaming bundle in his arms.

It takes me a couple of heartbeats to recognize little Heulwen. Her face has fine blood marks, glittering drops that speak of an unbelievable crime. The desert robes of Luçien are not clean either.

“What have you done?” My feline senses tell me a story that I refuse to believe. “What?”

“Conard!” yells Sereno while storming into the room as well. He is donned in his felt travel cloak.

Luçien does the unthinkable. In a swift movement he takes of his war mask. I stare into a face that is marked by horror and sorrow.

Perplexed, Sereno lets his short sword sink.

“Your highness, I...”, starts my step-brother, but gets interrupted by a large set of newcomers.

Éleos, followed by a group of Shesha, enters the royal library. “Please milord! Do not harm my brother!” he pleads. “He is out of his mind.”

A strange glow sneaked into Sereno's eyes. “Indeed I am. And you, Vicomte Ankou, are to blame for it!”

“I besiege you, your liege!” begs Luçien. “Think about your child!”

Before the young man's blade can collide with his scimitar, my step-brother throws Heulwen into my arms. I catch the screaming baby just in time.

Parade, attack, parade.

Force-lightning crawls over the surface of Sereno's broad sword. “She was the light of my life!” he roars. “I am nothing without her. It is your fault that she is no more.”

So Gwenynen is gone indeed.

I press Heulwen closer against my chest, questions haunting me.

How had it happened? Could I have done anything to prevent it? And what role does my step-brother play in this?

But I have not much time to ponder. The Force is unleashed. This is more than an ordinary duel.

I break out in a cold sweat. “Stop right now!” I demand.

But Sereno does not listen. Yellow fire is in his eyes.

Before I jump between the two fighters, I have enough presence of mind to hand Heulwen over to her great-grand father Narthex.

“Enough!” I state.

Sereno's iron blade, charged with dark side energy, cuts right through my right shoulder.

Disorientated, I fall to the ground.

“Noooooooooooooooo!”

The cape of his cloak is like a black cloud behind him. His gloved hands are clenched to fists.

The library windows crumble in a thousand pieces of shards.

I whimper, but not in physical pain.

My sweet, clever boy has seen the dark side in himself. He will either lose himself in it like his sister Adamah before him or return to the light like his mother.

Stars start to dance around me. Bodiless fingers touch my hair and I hear Arcānā whisper straight into my mind, “Light. Darkness. The balance. It is so much bigger!”

My fingers reach out for the falling stars.

“It is his choice, not yours!”

There is a lot of running, more shouting and, to my distress, the rattling of weapons.

“No,” I moan as more and more Shesha crowd the room.

The high pitched voice of Heulwen turns into little sobs. I can hear Narthex sing an old Amnionian cradle song to her.

“Νάνι νάνι το παιδί μου.
Έλα Ύπνε ύπνωσέ το
και γλυκά ’ποκοίμησέ το.
Έλα Ύπνε από τ’ αμπέλια,
πάρ’ το παιδί μου από τα χέρια.

Πάρ’ το σύρ’ το στα μαντράκια,
να κοιμάται σαν τ’ αρνάκια,
να κοιμάται σαν τ’ αρνάκια,
να ξυπνά σαν τα κατσικάκια.”

Tears smart from my half-closed eyes.

Nani nani my child.
Come Sleep make it sleep
and sweetly lull it.
Come Sleep from the vineyards
take my child from the hands.

Take it to the sheepcote
to sleep like a little lamb,
to sleep like a little lamb,
and to wake up like a little goat.

The solemn face of Sionnach O'Conghaile comes out of nowhere. “Be still, milady! You are losing an extreme amount of blood.”

I start to laugh hysterically as her six fingered hands glow in a soft blue light and illuminate the outlines of her aunt's Force ghost. Nobody else is aware of the former god queen.

Agathos rushes over to me and I try to push him away.

Then Éleos kneels down stroke my cheeks, murmuring words of comfort.

And then, only then, it happens. The suicide that was bond to happen.

While everybody has focused on me, they had forgotten about Sereno. He gives me a sad smile and rams the scimitar of his opponent straight into his own heart.

“You stupid boy!” I yelp.

“One child less for you to worry about,” Arcānā says dryly. “I take it from here.”

*******************************************************************

(To be continued!)


Try to enjoy reading this sad update: DarthUncle, Kahara, Cowgirl Jedi 1701 & Darth_Furio

 

I always enjoy everything you write because of the riveting nature and the pivotal importance this holds. Yikes, the loss of Gwenynen totally pushed Sereno over the edge of grief. If Lucien is responsible, he has a lot to answer for.

 

That was.......intense.