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And now for our exciting conclusion.....
Sinann smiled, her sharp teeth glinting yellow in the light.
With the knowledge she gained, she could vanquish the remnants of
the Tuatha and rule the younger, stronger race of Man. And she
would be immortal.
She stood beside the fountain touching the blocks.
The crystal was surprisingly warm to her touch and soft, rather
like skin, yet the water itself was cold, ice-cold.
The Druids would not leave the grove here; she knew they intended
to shift it beyond this world to a Shadowland, a Place Apart, where
it would be be accessible only to someone with great knowledge and
arcane power.
She trailed her hand through the chill water, revelling in the
tingling sensation that engulfed her hand and forearm. She could
feel the power of the place crawl over her body and raise the short
hairs on the back of her neck. With a shiver, she stretched out
her hand to pluck one of the hazelnuts....and her world exploded.
The fountain seemed to erupt in all directions. An icy hand
gripped the maid and dashed her against the ground again and again.
She wretched as foul water forced its way into her lungs, choking
her, drowning her. But she couldn't drown, it was inconceivable--she
was a water maiden. Sinann attempted to breathe the water and extract
the life-giving oxygen -- and failed.
The maid panicked, her arms thrashed wildly and her legs scrabbled
for purchase. But the grove was gone; the fountain was gone; there
was nothing except a world of ice-cold water, which paradoxically
burned her throat and eyes like fire. She was lifted higher and
higher. She attempted to scream, but there was no sound, she was
deaf. The water continued to rise, and rise....
Abruptly, it fell.
The huge wave carried the shattered lifeless body of the maid
south and west, cutting a deep and wide swath through the lush
countryside, until it reached the Western Ocean. It was a magnificent
river and one later generations would call the Shannon, in memory
of the maid.
That's the end of the tale!
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| Here's another story for you:
Article 9679 of rec.org.sca:
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
From: storm@hlafdig.stonemarche.ORG (Arastorm the Golden)
Subject: Third year blues- a Faery Tale
Once upon a time there was a young woman who threw her ashes
out into the face of the sun (or some similar misdeed, depending on
where the tale is being told), and the next day her husband could
find her nowhere about, for the faeries had taken her.
Not long after this the local wise woman was sitting by her
hearth when a tall man entered and told her to gather her tools & herbs,
for his wife and child were ill, and needed care. She did not recognise
him, but he was obviously noble, so she took her bundle & mounted behind
him on his black horse. She was not able to mark the way they went,
as the lords black cape billowed around her, and they rode fast as
the wind. When they stopped, it was before a great hall (house,
castle...). A richly dressed servant took the horse, and the dark
lord led her through many expensively appointed rooms to his ladies
chamber. There was the lady, in her bed and the baby by her. She
did what she could for the dame, and the lord gave her a bottle of
ointment, and instructed her to rub the baby with it.
While doing this, a fly buzzed near the wize woman's face,
and, swatting at it, she got a drop of ointment in her right eye.
After this she blinked, and peered about, for the vision in her
two eyes was different. Closing her right eye, she still saw a
tall chamber, with heavily carved furniture, a rich lady with her
attendants, tables laden with fine food, a fireplace where one
could roast an ox, and a fine round babe in her lap. Closing her
left eye and looking with that which had been treated by the
salve- she saw a dim cave, with a sick lady lying in a heap of
rags beside a small fire on a stone floor. The food was naught
but a pot of porridge, and the babe in her lap was small and
sickly. As she saw some of the folk in the cave peering at her
with suspicion, she gave no sign of having seen any difference,
finished caring for the child and withdrew.
Again the lord took her on his horse (which now appeared
as an old broom) and whisked her away to her own home. There
he told her not to speak of this visit and paid her with gold
coins, (which seemed to her right eye to be old dried leaves),
and left. The next morning, her payment was clearly old leaves
to both her eyes, and her hands, and she knew she had been tricked
by the fair folk.
Her fame as a wise woman grew, for though she mentioned
her visit and new talent to no one, it became clear that she
could always see the truth, no matter what the appearances
might be. Eventually, the young husband came to her and asked
her help in recovering his wife. So on the next night of the
full moon, the two stood beside the path where the fair folk were
said to pass.
The young man saw nothing, but the old woman could
see a cavalcade approaching. The young man saw only the grass
bending, and heard only the wind blowing, but the woman told
him to make ready. The wise woman said: "Now, John! Grab and
hold firm!" And, although the young husband saw nothing, when
he reached out his arms, he felt the body of his young wife.
Then there was a great struggle, as he held fast, and the
fair folk tried to rip their prize from his arms. He felt as
though he were trying to hold against a hurricane, but the
feel of his wife's soft arms around his neck gave him courage
and strength. At last the wind stopped pulling, and the old woman
said that the fair folk had passed on. And, lo, he could see
his wife in his arms again, and he took her home. And she
never threw her ashes into the face of the sun again.
Not long after, the old woman saw the Faerie Lord again
passing through the market. No one but she could see him,
and he was stealing food from one stall and another. But
turning, he saw that she could see him, and he struck her in
the right eye with his whip. After that she never saw out of
that eye at all. And that was her reward for serving the
faeries.
Arastorm
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