Kindred Spirit Lodge Presents

Going Back

by dj

____****____ 

This upcoming story is a bit different than most. The muse wouldn't let the wench go until she was finished! yoi! It's a long one folks. Disclaimer will be at the very end. Enjoy y'rselves!

Going Back - by dj7
April 22nd, 2001
___________________

Relaxing...

The meadow grasses swayed as the light breezes blew in from the upper, western ridge. Under this grassy cover were a throng of crickets, chirping insistently, one right after another. A plentitude of other creatures also scurried over Gaia's warm surface. The epiphany of nature's sounds filled the valley with a cascading and melodic tune.

In this beautiful meadow stood a huge monolithic boulder - one that had been left over from one of the ice ages. It was there that a young woman sat propped up, just relishing in the sounds, smells, and peacefulness around her. She lifted up an object, inhaling a burning, but beneficial, smoke from it. Too much and too deep, tears welled up from it's coarseness, making a gut-wrenching cough erupt.

"y-yo...koff! ...oi...koff koff!"

Overhead a hawk screeched, catching her cough-jarred attention. This wondrous creature was magnificent as it circled and soared over the land.His wingspan alone was probably taller than the squirt herself.

She was entranced by the beauty and strength of this feathered one, watching him dip then glide over the air currents. As she watched, she continued listening to all of nature, then also began listening inside to herself. Relaxing her mind, her body, this helped to open up - to feel - to remember...

Thoughts took her back to an older time, many eons ago. She watched flashes, saw snippets, remembered feelings, and saw flashes of remembrances...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Going back...

...forest, dark green, rich with foliage, also rock strewn...senses attuned and sharp, but with a fear, also weariness and worry ...there was a stealth and strength felt in the air - many energies around, those of a strong female presence too - a sisterly kinship did walk this land...but there were other energies felt also - they were of darkness, deceit, and danger...

______________

Trudging through dense underbrush, the young girl fought her way through the tangle of vines and limbs. Emerging out was a headful of light brown hair. It was in total disarray, with twigs sticking out and brambles caught in, making for a tangled mess.

Her clothing was ripped in several places from the day-long battle with those thorny obstacles. The fight appeared to be either a loss, or maybe a tie, from the looks of the scratches covering her arms, hands, and face.

She was alone, and definitely lost.

Physical looks or comfort weren't something she cared about at the moment. Her main concern was flight, and finding a way out of there to safety, all before darkfall - which was coming fast...

_______________

It had been at daybreak when she escaped and ran for freedom - but even now she remained imprisoned, stuck in this rock-strewn, but prickly, wooden maze.

One root after another was tripped over, more times than she cared to remember. Curses grumbled out each time she stumbled, especially when crashing to the ground, knees first, palms next.

As the day waned, so did her hopes. The jagged streaks of light which zigged through the tall treeline grew dimmer now, changing colors.

How she hated being alone in the woods, any woods, especially at night. Being dirty, thirsty, tired, and scared, didn't help much either. It had not been a good day.

The night would be even worse if she didn't find something - some kind of shelter or familiar landmark. The sun's position hadn't helped much throughout the day, but then she didn't know this Callindish land very well. For now, she remained totally lost.

Silent thoughts spoke inward, 'Maybe if the stars ever appear, they may mark the way towards the sea. At least some other guide than these damn timber giants!'

________________

As the forest light grew duller, it cast out a greenish-grey hue. Long, elongated shadows sprung up making the woods appear even more eerie. Sounds became more magnified, changing tone, becoming more still. The stealth night creatures were arising as the daylight ones turned in. None of this helped her fears.

She was tired and couldn't help muttering more curses. '...so damn tired of tromping through this bloody mess of choking vines and scrapin' bark'.

On top of this weariness, the girl was thirsty, hungry, and began to get angry. Something had to give -- instincts did. The ones for survival kicked in. She needed shelter and water, food could wait.

It was either luck, divine, or basic skills, when she stumbled out of the next patch of brush, right into the path of a small brook.

'Gaia's blessings, (sigh), thank her goodness'...

Kneeling in the muddy soil, she dipped both hands into the cool water. Parched lips longed for it as she slurped and sucked in the healing substance. Still not sated, she dunked her face in and began sipping a needed fill.

Closing her eyes, she gave up a silent thanks. Shivers coursed through her spent, scratched, body. Dirt streaks covered most exposed skin. She continued kneeling before the water, shoulders slumped, head bowed, and defenses down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From a distance, a figure crouched behind leafy foliage. Dark eyes focused in and watched every movement of the young prey. The predator had had a long day too, but the night would prove to be more fulfilling...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still kneeling upon the bank, the girl's mind whirled with visions. She thought back to the night before - which was even worse than this day. Actually, it had been the most terrifying night of her young life.

...'those chants, robed figures, coldness, and especially that darkness presence - it was all so overwhelming...dominating...'

She had been chilled to the bone.

Not realizing what was happening then - not while being dragged down a stone corridor by hooded cretins, kicking and cursing the whole way -- that those robed figures were of a priestly sect. Their intention was to follow the ancient writings handed down to them from past generations of followers.

In those writings, their god demanded a sacrifice, a human sacrifice - and She was chosen to be the next lamb!

...'What strange customs they have here in this Callindish land. They're so dark, with odd rites and laws. The language is hard to follow - but discernable. None of this was ever expected once landing on these shores!'

At the time, she wasn't entirely sure of why she had been drawn to this distant land - the pulling had been so strong though. Soon, she would understand.

...'The old tales speak of a sisterly society around these hills and woodlands, but Ariana had warned that these were just childish tales, not to be taken seriously. Maybe I should have listened'...

Tears streamed down her face - still kneeling, lost in thought, and in prayer.

_______________

crack! a twig snapped.

The young girl's head jerked to the right, scanning the shadowed greens. Wincing from stiffness, she scrambled up from the vulnerable position. Backing towards the nearest tree, she quickly bent down, grabbing a dead, thick branch.

Blood was pumping in her ears, heart thumping faster. Nothing - she could see nothing moving in this grey light.

Phheeng...Thump!

In the opposite direction of the sounds, a figure dropped to its side. The shape resembled a cougar. It had been only marks away from pouncing and beginning his feast - but it was an arrow which stopped him dead in the hunt.

"B'n trackin' that fellow for a good spell neow", boomed a deep voice.

Startled from the sudden appearance, the girl could only stutter, " Who.. wha...."

A tall form moved out of the shadows, grasping a large bow in hand. There was a thick mane of reddish-brown hair reaching down past broad shoulders. A Highlander, maybe...

"What's a wee one like ye doing out in these woods at night, lass? Tis a dangerous place to be."

After all she had been through, not knowing who could be trusted, the girl stayed mute, not answering.

Circling over to the carcass, the hunter pushed down on the still chest with large, booted foot. Seeing that it was no longer a threat, attention turned back to the girl. In several quick strides, the hunter stood towering before her.

"Hmm, ye wouldn't happen to be that runaway from the B'rrokin clan, now would ye, lass? They've been combing these woods f'r candlemarks."

The fear on the girl's face and the quick downcast of eyes confirmed those dreaded words. Taking her chin, raising it up, they stared deep into each others eyes.

"Don't worry, lass, I'm not of th'r kind. The B'rrokin's and th'r bloody rites are the scourge of this land! Tis a bad lot they are."

She could see it in the eyes, felt it, sensed the truth...'no, not one of them'.

There was a different kind of presence felt - one of kindness and honor, plus something else - something she just couldn't make out.

The girl's instincts let relief flood through her body. She wasn't going to be captured again, nor put on an altar this eve. Safe...she was safe now.

Slumping down, she sank to the forest floor. It was from the quick reflexes of this hunter, which helped make it a soft landing.

_______________

Next to the narrow, winding brook, a small camp had been laid out. A fire popped and crackled - red embers glowed, while yellow and blue flickers rose up. Flecks of ash slowly floated up, wisping in the air.

Two figures sat propped up against an ancient oak. Both sat facing the fire, speaking lowly.

"What's ye'r name, lass, and where'r ye from?"

The girl threw a stick into the fire, focusing her eyes forward toward the flame.

"I'm called, Kerena, from the Mairlen clan. "A half look over, "It's supposed to mean fair one."

Spoken so softly, the girl couldn't quite make out, "Aye, that ye are, lass, that ye are."...

Hmmpf!  "So, where do y'r kin hail from, lassie?"

A curious look sideways, "O'er across the Linnhe, close to Gl'nfalon."

Choking sound. "y'mean to tell me that y'trraveled all the way up here to Callindish Dunheath, all by y'rself?! Why, lass, why?"

"I was pull..." Slouching down, Kerena grasped her bent knees. "I was lead here...I mean, there were these old stories we had been told, and...."

A half-snork sounded from the hunter, "Aye, tis many a tale been told about these hills - some true, some not. Be it the ones about the kindr'd sisters then, lass?"

Kerena slowly rocked forward, still looking at the fire. "yes...yes, it was."

She cocked her head slightly, glancing over at the hunter. "They told of a strong caste of women who lived together, fought together, and cared for one another, without the influence of men. Is that right?"

"Well, lass, some of what you heard was true, but th'res more to it.

Taking on a wistful tone, the hunter softly continued:

"For generations, the sistren in these hills were united - not without clashes mind ye. Hard women they were - proud, strong, determined, and bullish. The 'Mc'Farlins farmed these lands - built homes, hunted, took care of each other - and fought many battles to keep th'r land and kin safe."

"O'er the ye'rs, as word spread out, the clans grew. Those with a kindr'd spirit would be drawn here, some over great distances...like you, lass."

"Well, it was just a few ye'rs ago when the clans split up. A faction of hot-headed rebels took off to the northern hills, a band of banshee followers after 'em. Those bloody vermin ended up slaughtering dozens of their own kin, stealing th'r land and homes - all for what..."

The warrior shook her head in disgust, "Aye, lass, much feuding and bloodshed has washed these r'rocky hills."

Phheeng...Thump!

Phheeng...Thump!

"NO!", Kerena screamed.

She grasped the slumped hunter by the vest, staring into the ashen, still face. An arrow was lodged deep within one shoulder, and the other in the upper thigh. A trickle of blood ran across her upper brow.

Not knowing if the hunter was dead or alive, Kerena whispered, "I don't even know your name..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It would be a long time before Kerena ever did learn her protector's name. Many months in fact. The two had been separated that very night by three masked clansm'n. She assumed it was those rebels the hunter had spoken of, for they made her walk in a northerly direction...

________________

Epilogue:

Month after month, the lass was forced to live in those northern hills. Much of this was done under guise of deceit, or sometimes threat. She had been warned, sometimes mislead, about the bloody B'rrokin clan, and where their boundaries really lay. It would take much discerning, and guess work too, to ever find a safe way around them, and out of this prison-like community.

The leader of this rebel clan held a powerful charm over her kinsm'n. She had a very strong presence - one that was needed to unite such a vile group as this. There were many strong clansm'n in this group, some angry, others resigned, one even insane, but there was one in particular who seemed to hold a grudge, some kind of malice, toward the girl. Their spirits clashed like thunder.

Those weren't pleasant times for Kerena, nor filled with much happiness. She had been treated more like property than a woman.

To make it through those long days turned to weeks, she tried to focus her thoughts on the brave hunter who had saved her life. That woman had touched something inside of her. There was a pulling to her, a yearning to find this hunter friend again. It was with those thoughts of meeting her again, that helped the fair lady through those long, drawn-out days.

May she still be alive...

____****____

Part 2 is in the works as of Dec 2001

Disclaimer:

dj

____****____

Dj's Index

Main Library Stories

Lodge Entrance