Father's tale and Mother's moral. (length)

Post Reply
User avatar
Posts: 18
Joined: Thu Jul 26, 2018 9:37 pm

Father's tale and Mother's moral. (length)

Post by Caoimhe » Fri Nov 16, 2018 12:20 am

Her father tucked her into bed with her sister and the two girls begged him for a story. The girls were told several times that it was too late for a tale, but in the end, their persistance wore him down.

"First, know that some stories are not tales - they are legends. So know that I tell this legend not as a tale of truth, but as a story handed down through generations to teach."

Their mother rolled her eyes in disgust at her husband's weakness, but picked up her mending instead of storming out of the room. She loved his stories as much as Caoimhe and Moira did and none of his women would ever miss a chance to hear him spin a yarn of the old country.

"In far antiquity, in the time we know now only as the time of Ériu, the people of the Fir Bolg ruled Ireland and in doing so held dominion over the Fir Domnann and the Gáilióin for this was the time before the arrival of the Tuatha Dé Danann - the Children of Danu.

But then, Nuada, king of the Tuatha Dé Danann did lead his people to the Isle. He asked for half the island for his people but the Fir Bolg refused him and a great war prepared for.

Now, Nuada had a daughter known as Ernmas, and Ernmas in turn had three daughters of her own - Ériu, Banba and Fódla. When it was agreed by the Fir Bolg and the Tuatha Dé Danann that the battle should be joined and fought at Mag Tuired, it is said that the three daughters of Ernmas each used their magics to meld with the land their people were fighting to make their home and while mcause elded sent out prayers through the lines of power in the land. They prayed to the spirits of war who as yet had no true form for there had been no magic of land and spirit yet there in Ireland to give them such before.

Ériu looked upon the upcoming fight and saw the abundance of glory that her people might find in the battle that was soon to rage. She called through the land and through the sky to the spirit of war for the Great Queen of such forces to cause her king grandfather's forces swords to shine brightly and cut true. She asked the winds to help their spears fly straight and the earth to allow their horses to stand tall and glorious on the field that the nobility of their cause might never be forgotten by the warriors who fought - and when she called upon the spirit for such things, she named her Macha.

Banba looked upon the upcoming fight and knew that the ferocity of her grandfather's people would need to be unmatched if they were to win this place as their home. Her understanding of war was intimate, and she saw the need of such to be madness - for Banba herself was a mother and could not look upon the idea of killing as anything but a great madness - still, she saw that such madness sometimes can not be avoided. And so, she called through her magics to the spirit of war and asked for the Great Queen of such forces to grant fierceness and power and tireless stores of fire and frenzy to the warriors who fought so that the battle would truly rage - and when she called upon the spirit for such things, she named her Badb."

For some reason, their Mother gave an amused snort at this point and muttered, "Good ol' Badb. Always my favorite...."

Caoimhe gave her mother a dirty look for interrupting and urged her Papa to continue.

"Fódla was seen by many to be the sweetest of all her sisters for when it had been announced that there would be a battle, she had wept tears for all those of her people who would be lost to death - and promised to weep a full day for each who fell and this touched the hearts of those who faced death for they knew that even without families, there would be one who would mourn for them. However, this sweetness was not all that was within Fódla. Indeed, of all her sisters, she was the one who best understood the true danger of the sorrow that comes with war - that it can poison the soul if given reign and embraced with joy. And so, she called through her magics to the spirits of war and asked for the Great Queen of such forces to sow confusion through the ranks of the enemy. She begged that the field might be covered with a great fog so that fewer would die, and fewer would have the chance to embrace that love of death upon their hands. She asked that the venom of fear be spread through the ranks of the Fir Bolg - that they would find dishonor as they ran from the field - and when she called upon the spirit for such things, she named her Nemain.

Now, the lines of power of Ireland are a wild web of strands that cross and overlap, and so when these sisters all sent their prayers and magics through the land, their prayers braided together upon the power lines and became one great prayer, and one great spell. And when these sisters sent their words and magics into the air, each and every of them saw above a great flock of black birds and saw in them the spirit's presence - taking the flock to be a harbinger of what was to come - the war."

She'd heard the tale before, but the mention of the coming war always made Caoimhe shiver, even as it made little Moira hide her face behind her sister's shoulder.

"The braided prayer spell gained strength from the fact that each of the sisters had called upon the Great Queen of war - and thus the magics took this to mean that each sister had called upon the same great spirit. And the spell wove together the aspects of war and battle and gave her the form the prayers had asked for.

But... such is the wondrous power of NAMES... that this spirit could not simply be "The Great Queen". Even through the combined braided spell, even through prayer and magic, the separate names in the wind demanded to be in some way separate from each other. Each name became a part of the woven spell - and instead of becoming a single spirit, The Morrigu rose on the wings of the black birds as a woven braid of spirits.

As three, they flew above the battle and answered the prayers of the King's Grand-daughters.

During the battle, Sreng, the champion of the Fir Bolg, challenged King Nuada to single combat. With one sweep of his sword, Sreng cut off King Nuada's right hand and when he did so, Nuada's blood fell upon the earth of Ireland as a sacrifice - binding him and his people forever to the land they fought for. King Nuada let out a terrible scream - not in pain, but in regret that without his arm he could no longer be the king that his people would need in the coming days. In that moment, he was the truest of kings - thinking not of his own pain and suffering, but of the pain and suffering of his people. Ireland herself knew then that these noble Tuatha Dé Danann were truly meant to rule her shores and so she sent out power so that the King's cries should give form to their victory.

King Nuada let out his cry of heartbreak "Mooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiggggguuuuuuuuu! Oh! My Queen!"

Now, those on the field knew that when he called for his queen that he meant his wife, but the spirits understand our world so much differently than we, and again the power of names was invoked and the three spirits above the field who all thought themselves to be the Great Queen answered the King and the power of the land herself and each took upon themselves the name of Morrigu. In so doing, though each of the three was separate, they braided themselves together into one form the way the prayers and spells that had created them had become one. Like three birds becoming a single flock, the three spirits took one single female form and struck down form of Eochaidh - the king of the Fir Bolg - but called upon the black birds above the battle field to come down and drink up his blood and eat up his flesh so that no part of him could become a sacrifice to the land the way that Nuada's blood had done.

The birds did as they were bid by their mistress and devoured Eochaidh - not a drop of his dying blood, not a morsel of his dying flesh touched the earth after Morrigu struck him - and thus was the blood pact between king and land broken and the Fir Bolg could feel the connection and their claim on the island snap and knew that they no longer ruled the island.

However, there is always a price for breaking a blood oath - and since it was Morrigu who had caused king Eochaidh's blood oath to the land to be broken, she found that the parts of her that had once been able to separate out of the braid, were now forever fused together under the name the King had called her by. Her three parts still knew themselves to be different, to hold domain over different aspects of war, but now too she knew that she was forever to be more than the sum of her parts - that she was to be Morrigu first and foremost - the Great Queen of War - Mistress of Crows and Ravens - for such had she been named by the True King of Ireland."

Caoimhe and her sister smiled with happiness as their father ended the story and gave them each a kiss before leaving to return to his duties with the Mistress' family. The girls were drifting off to sleep when Caoimhe heard her mother's voice soft in her ear.

"Never forget the moral of this story little one - because breaking blood oath after blood oath is exactly why the Mistress' family line bears the price of insanity even deeper than ours. Never trust a Silver Caoimhe - never."
---- You have to be brave. Your courage to do what is right has to be greater than your fear of getting hurt. Be brave. ----

Posts: 494
Joined: Wed Jan 13, 2016 10:01 am

Re: Father's tale and Mother's moral. (length)

Post by Patricia » Thu Nov 29, 2018 1:28 pm


Post Reply