Stories Underhill - Part 2

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Caoimhe
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Stories Underhill - Part 2

Post by Caoimhe » Wed May 01, 2019 3:25 am

Caoimhe and Moira gasped when their father declared that the Sorceress had come to trade. TRADE! Such audacity to make that declaration to the Fae ... and while UNDERHILL!!
The girls were on the edge of their proverbial seats as their Da continued the tale.

The seilie knight sneered at her. "Trade? You come to trade? In the name of the Goddess, what could you have to trade that would be of any worth to me? You who have come to this place flanked by a red cap and a dark satyr?"

The Sorceress had a difficult time not scoffing at the shining lord's air of superiority."


"Oi, I know how she feels! It's hard ta keep a straight face with the Fangs get all high and mighty."

Caoimhe's Da arched his brow at her Garou slandering outburst and continued the tale without pause.

Dúnmharú, however, did not have the Sorceress' discipline and his bloody laughter echoed off the walls and made the Sorceress look closer at the hall she had been brought to.
The walls and the floor were black marble - perfect slabs, each and every one without even a hint of veining - blackness that had been polished to the point that they were like obsidian mirrors. Deep in the darkness of the floor it looked like there were stars -- and then she realized they were on the polished reflection of the ceiling above. It looked like the night sky with diamonds as the shining constellations. It took her a moment to realize why it was that the false sky looked so... wrong - when she figured it out, she saw that she was unfamiliar with the positions of the stars as they were set in the ceiling sky. In fact, she only recognized one - Ursa Major - the Great Bear.

When she looked at the fourteen columns that held up the ceiling, the stars made sense. All fourteen columns were matrix-less solid green malachite. Either the Imperial mosaic artisans of Russia had been attempting to copy these columns of perfect green, or the architect of the room didn't realize that the splendid pillars of St. Petersburg's cathedral were not single pieces of stone. Since he had gone for 14 columns instead of the more mystically powerful combination of 7, 5 & 3, she reasoned that it must be the latter.

In the midst of all that cold perfection, the Sorceress realized that her tattered self must look like a ragged blemish - an unwanted reminder of the ugly reality of the world outside Underhill. She leaned on her twisted zebrawood cane as if her bones were old and arthritic. Her frail and elderly movement made the knight sneer again.

"No old woman, you have nothing to trade that would be of value to those of the shining court."
"Are you certain of that?"
"I am. So certain that I would swear to it."

With her head down and her face hidden by her hair, the knight could not see the wicked smile that blossomed on the Sorceress' face.
"No sir knight, that is not necessary. I would not want to make you foresworn. I will however, make you a wager. If I can both illustrate a truth you have ignored in your treatment of me and prove that I have something to trade that would be seen as valuable to both courts, will you tell me the first of the six stories I seek?"
"Yes. I will accept your wager."
"Witnessed! The duel voices of the Damhsa and a lavender haired woman on the dais sealed the deal.

The Sorceress hobbled forward on her cane to the foot of the dais and spoke up to the arrogant knight.

"Shining lord of the Rus, the truth you ignore is made manifest in this room you have created." She cracked her crooked cane against the polished black when the knight tried to interrupt. "No sir knight, do not try to deny that this is your Hall. This is a gathering of mixed courts and you are not the only aos sí on the dais. The only way all would be able to agree upon you acting as the voice for this unusual group would be if we gather under a roof of your creating. And, it is your creation that reveals you Sir. It is.... perfect. Not a blemish mars its surface - but sir, not all worth is seen on the surface of a thing. This is what you have forgotten with me. I do not look beautiful to your eyes, I look tattered, poor and old and I appear in the company of those you disdain and I must therefore have nothing that your eyes would find lovely. Sir, you put too much emphasis on your eyes and how things appear. The proof of this lies in what I have brought to trade with this esteemed gathering. I bring with me coin of inestimable value ---- Stories.
Stories I guarantee none of you here have ever heard before."

The Sorceress' declaration caused the knight to collapse into his perfect throne as though she had ascended the dais and struck him physically even though she remained at the foot of the steps still leaning on her cane.

The voice of the lavender haired unseilie aos sí who had acted as witness once again rang through the hall.
"I declare the wager won. What say you Grigori?"
"........ I concede."



The shining lord of the seilie court had to wait to pay his forfeit until Dúnmharú's wickedly delighted laughter stopped echoing through the hall.


As if on cue, Caoimhe and her sister too laughed at how the Sorceress had won over the arrogant fae lord. In the McArdell family, the power of stories was never to be denied or maligned.
---- You have to be brave. Your courage to do what is right has to be greater than your fear of getting hurt. Be brave. ----

Patricia
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Re: Stories Underhill - Part 2

Post by Patricia » Mon Sep 09, 2019 6:59 pm

++XP

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