The Crone, The Matron and The Maid

After taking a quick head count, Djehuty shoulders on his coat, the chair he rescues it from groaning with relief as it attempts to straighten to its original posture. "Normally, Sylus could get us their in the space of heartbeat, but considering the circumstances, I believe we ought to go a more traditional route." Liv nods her agreement and he smiles grimly before casting open the door and bowing slightly at the waist. "After you, milady." grinning as she scowls and steps from the apartment. Low chuckles from the back cut off as Liam attempts to straighten his face under a blistering backwards glance from Liv.

Closing the door, and sealing it with a little help from Lily, Djehuty turns to the crowded streets, people and things rushing this way and that, the odd carriage clattering over the cobbles forcing people and carts out of the way in a driven compulsion to be elsewhere; one of the horses pauses long enough to shout obscenities at a young waif charging across the street in a effort to escape the irate street vendor hard on his heels, desperate to reclaim the pair of vials labeled Herakleophorbia IV, a fuzzy yellow chick the size of a large dog chirping from atop his handcart. Ignoring the commotion, Djehuty turns to the left, eyes fixedly ahead as he mutters to himself in a distracted manner. The crowds parts as each person takes a circuitous route around the party, unaware of the slight deviation of behavior and Djehuty leads his friends from the gaslights of the Sherlocks on into the gaudy glare of neon and the buzz of the ever present traffic of the Nightside Proper.

A twisting in his gut and he makes four sharp left hand turns in sequence, passing a set of warning signs indicating a time-slip with out a glance, vanishing in a moment into nothingness. The others pause for a moment, looking all ways nervously before following through; The world greeting them remarkable unchanged from the one they just left. Light rain falls from a cloudless sky and before they can ask, Djehuty glances back, "Six months, give or take a day... Fairy circles tend to play havoc with the continuity of time; I think each of them exists in its own causality." Turning inward again, he whispers to himself, "Now where is that gate?..."

The flower seemed out of place, a flicker of purity amongst the grit and grim of humanity pressing around it as it marked the opening to a small city park, an entity of peace surrounded by the roaring turbulence of the Nightside; entering the gates, the sound deadened to a muted growl pushing up through the soles of their feet, a disquietingly sudden removal from the world. Three trees flourish in the middle, the only sign of green life save for the flower, their forms twisted together so they are almost indistinguishable, one from the other. A dark mouth, where the trunks separated at the roots showed signs of dim green light, as one might see from a dense forest canopy, shining through.

Looking down into the light, I draw a deep breath. Then, drawing up my skirts, I step downwards.
The path down into the earth lets out on a forest track, the trees thick and close around us, brush and vibrant green leaves hemming us in and filtering the light to a pale golden gloaming. I can hear song in among the trees, birdsong, and rustlings.
"Stay close." I murmur. "Don't tarry."

"Don't worry about me," whispers Djehuty, the forest imposing a hushed ambiance. Ignacy fingers the hilt of his sword, strapped across his shoulder blades until Liam and Djehuty cast withering gazes at him; grunting, he digs his hands into his pockets and takes a position as rearguard under the scrutiny of Liam. Lily and Kaija, seemingly developing a bond in their silent sulks walk at the center of the column, exchanging dispassionate grunts while Vyros uncomfortably walks between and slightly behind, and overwhelmed expression flitting over his face, alternating with amazement and trepidation.

Soft white tendrils of mist rise from the forest floor as Liv and Djehuty, in the lead, step out, each paying respects to the calm and the quiet voicelessly. The corridor, little more then a thinning track of new growth in the otherwise ancient greenwood, extends almost as far as the eye can see, winding itself around the larger, unmarked trees. A sound of rushing water over stones reaches through the still, intertwining with the few bird songs rising over the otherwise imposing silence, creating the illusion of song swirling around the little group.

Almost without warning, the track takes a sever downward dip into a brooks bed, dropping some 20 feet in as many steps, to a course of well rounded pebbles strewn about the soft, damp soil. The birdsong rises higher, complimenting the sound of falling water and mixing with a new sound; voices lifted in song, softly reverberating among the larger stones from an unseen source, the words some how too beautiful to hear clearly.

Stepping around a number of sizable boulders, Djehuty and Liv discover a flat spot next to a shallow ford with a deep swirling pool downstream. The only other thing to be seen, a wicker rack propped at a 45 degree angle, tended by a middle-aged woman dressed only in a knee-length tunic raking the glowing coals beneath, brilliant white garments, drying them over the smokeless fire, singing in a low voice the song heard from above. Two more women wade in the pool, one bent with the weight of age, stirring the wash basin to a swirly froth of turbulent water with a staff, shod at one end with a spike of iron and ornamented at the top with a hammer's head, woven from the finest silver threads into a formidable mass, knotting back on itself many times over. The youngest, hardly more then a girl come into womanhood, sings in a high, keening voice complimenting notes to the matron's song, a wordless melody woven in and around the beautiful words, the skirts of her tunic tucked into her belt as she wades to her hips into the deep washing pool.

As she stands to lay another bone-white sheet out, the fire-haired matron looks up, and smiles. "Daughter of the River. Welcome, child."
"A blessing on all who walk here." I say, as the other two Ladies stand from their work. In my eyes, it's hard to see the outer shells they wear;the magic inside them shines brighter, showing through the surface, even to my weak sight. I turn my eyes back to Lihnahn Sidhe, giving her another short bow. "My thanks for the welcome, Lady of Imbas."

I almost find myself leaning over to Kaija to whisper "it is almost like coming home". Instead I close my eyes and breath deeply enjoying the scent and letting myself for just a moment forget the long road that has lead us all here letting the singers melody wash over my senses, for all the danger, this place feels good, clean. Liv's formal manners shake me out of my musing reminding me this is not a place to be lost in thought, you might not find your way back again

Glancing sideways at her two companions, the Lihnahn Sidhe, cringes slightly before recomposing herself, "You may not when you find what you have been summoned for, child, though I believe that this is your true path."

For a moment, I stare into her green eyes, and behind them. Sadness. Why is there sadness?
"I am the bard you named me, my Lady." I say quietly. "If there are words to be spoken, then I will listen and remember."

The maid and crone, pause in their tasks, look piercingly at the group emerging from the river stones before allowing their eyes to lock on Liv. "You'll do more then listen, kit," The eldest states in a voice like ice cracking stones.

"You path has been revealed to us, child of the wanderer." the younger chimes, her voice ringing in time to the brook behind her. "A path which must be traveled, be it by you... or less worthy persons."

I bow deeply, though my heart is hammering. "I bow to your wisdom, Calliech Behuer. I take heed of your words, Bean Sidhe na Haoiseanna." This is the proper response...but what do they mean, they've seen my path? These great ones see the fates of nations, not of individuals... I straighten my spine, standing proud as a child of the river ought, showing my attention and my respect to these two great Ladies. But inside my heart is fluttering like a bird, and my skin prickles.

It is a sight to see Liv and Dejhuty standing in their elements, The two are more alike then I think they would realize, Liv is standing proud but the tension is rolling off her, So i begin to breath slow and deep, not making it loud but Liv has good ears i have seen her fight, it is almost unnatural what she hears. She should be able to feel the unspoken message of breath slow and deep. I am no empath but i have watched people for years, by now i should be able to recognize it, her breath is too shallow, and the tension is subtle but there on her neck. breath girl, slow and deep. what the women is saying Is beyond my Ken to understand the significance but you have beaten death. Breath.

The Lihnahn Sidhe walks around to Liv's back, placing her long delicate fingers over her shoulder in a reassuring manner. "Stand, my bard, and face what is known of the fates; let the words spoken here guide you, but beware lest they overpower and force you to paths only fools trod. I claim the rights of the mother, here and now, in the absence of her own and by the mantle of the Matron. I will guard and guide this child so long as we speak and consult with her."

The Crone nods, "As it should be; I am Beira, Queen of Winter, the Cailleach, Mother of gods and kings. I claim the title of Crone, of ancient wisdom and cunning. I will consult with this child for so long as she stands on this spot, and advise her of her enemies and friends, plans and dreams."

"And I, the Bean Nighe, from among the honored Banshee, claim as my own the rights of the maid, the true friend and confidant. I will listen as you bare your heart to me, Sister of the Waters, even as I tell secrets to break your very soul."

I lift my head. "Then I shall listen, and learn, and be guided. I am Liveantreach Na Sruth, and I claim the name of bard and the lineage of the River. And I thank for the blessing of this council, which I shall take as my own heart bids me." That worked, I think carefully, respectful but not binding me to anything, though I don't like the fact that I gave them my favorite spoken name, the one that I use with my own family. But that's propriety for you, always tying your tail in knots.
I can feel Lihnahn's touch, warm and approving, and would like to lean back into it. But I remain straight and strong.
The Calliech snorts, but a grudging sort of smile flickers across her face.
"Then let us speak." Lihnahn says softly, and pulls me down with her to a seat on the pebbles. I can hear my friends take seats behind us, but my eyes are only for these three ladies. Calm. I need to be calm.

the weight of the ladies words is heavy in the air. like there is far more then just us listening. and like maybe some of us were best left behind. slowly Liv's tension is leaving Liv's body. good sign, the ladies though, there is something too heavy about the words. i can't shake the reverberation from each sylable

The first, the Bean Nighe kneel at Liv's side. "Dear Sister, there is much that you must know, and I am the first to speak here, beneath the branches that guard clear water. Now hear my words and remember."

Her breathing even, and her voice matching cadence with the crack of the burning coals in the fire at her back and the creak of the trees above her, she begins,

"The Child of Water and Wandering Wind
Born to the river, meander and bend;
Conceived in disgrace, her blood bares a taint,
She shoulders the shame. Her heart is not faint."

"This Kit has power, weaving the spheres anew,
Uniting the worlds that she hardly knew.
By Huntress’ marked, Baring captured Sol’s light,
Royal by token and power and right."

"Daughter of River and Foot-weary Bard,
Your route hedged in iron, unyielding, hard.
Stubborn and arrogant, meek and afraid
Face up to your future, do not turn ‘way"

"Your task none will envy, at very least kin,
Two become one, unite kindred and men"

Finishing, the world seems to hang on her words, as if the earth itself were to ponder their meaning before once again the sound of a lark rises from somewhere deeper in the woods.

The words feel like stones falling into my belly. It's about me. Me. I'm the one the prophecy is for. I hadn't quite believed it before...but this...
Then a giddy sense of relief washes over me. Royalty. She's speaking of royals. But my mother is Dratsie, and we have no royalty. We have holt mothers and fathers, and clan mothers and fathers, but there are no royals among us. Dratsie decide things by talk and decision, not by the rule of one. I open my mouth. This has to be a mistake. But Lihnahn's hand tightens on my shoulder.
"Hush child." Her voice is barely a breath. "Let them finish, as is the way of it."
I close my mouth, though I'm getting sick of being called child. I am nearly a hundred, aren't I? And am I not an adult among my people?
But then the Calliech's eye catches mine, and all other thoughts are buried beneath the cold of her regard.

The Cailleach steps closer. "As yet, I see you are unconvinced, Queen. We have named you as equal to Titania herself, over whom I took my place as the Crone at her naming over a thousand years ago. We task you with unifying the worlds, building the first of many bridges reuniting the fay with the child races of men. Speak truly, kit; what is the path set to you by the Lihnahn Sidhe?"

i wave at the beauty and put on a suave smile i lean close in to liv and whisper "whos the hot chick over there?".

I swallow hard. "I am a bard. I walk the Hazel Road. My work is to keep the tales of our past, our sorrows and our joys, to keep the People knowing of each other and remembering their ties, and to keep all mindful of the way it is best to be, the laws of hospitality and dignity, the right and wrong of things. My work is to help my Kin stay as ordered as the sun's rise and the seasons' wheeling. I am a bard and keeper of words. I am no leader, I hold no claim over any loyalties save that which is due a bard..." I shake my head, staring "I am no leader, O Callliech. I walk my own road."
The old woman cackles, a sound like breaking ice.
Then Ignacy's words filter even through the Calliech's laugh. I turn my head sharply. "Ignacy, cleave your tongue to your teeth!" I hiss in a fierce whisper, "That Lady is no girl. She is the Bean Nigh, the Bean Sidhe, and I will not hear her insulted in my prescence. Shut up." My voice is sharp with anger and with my fear, and it feels good to be able to lash out, I am shamed to admit. With a deep breath, my heart hammering, I turn my eyes back to these Ladies. They can't lay this on me. I'm a bard. It's what I am, what I've always loved. They must understand that...and I am no leader, never have been, never ought to be. I'm not built for such a burden.

The Bean Nighe slides in next to Ignacy, whispering in his ear, "I am the sorrow of battle and the cries lifted up for the lost lover. Do you truly wish to know me better, child? If not, sit quietly as my sister is lead to her fate."

The Cailleach smiles approvingly at the Maid before continuing with Liv. "All that is required to lead is a following; and that I have seen, Oh Queen. Your power elicited emotions in the Siren, and you have preformed even greater feats in the time since. You have not escaped notice, and there are many that would listen to your words."

"He meant no harm, Lady." I say, raising my voice, "He is a human, and a foolish one, and does not know the ways." I shoot him another glare. "He will not speak again." Fear tightens my throat as I turn back. "I hear your words, my Lady. And yet I have no wish for them to. And I think fewer would follow me than you think. I am-" I swallow again, the hair down my spine standing on end. "I am half-bred, and I know better than most what Kin think of that." In my ears my voice is too sharp. "I am no man's queen. I am a bard. I belong on the road, and in no battle field or court chambers."

i shrug and whisper "hey cant knock till youve tried it is all i got to say".

This time, the voice of rebuke comes from over her shoulder, from the Lady of Imbas.

"You think none of my chosen have served as rulers and wise men? That the poets have no roll in the affairs of state? The bards in my keeping have toppled kingdoms with a word, and I have blessed many great rulers with the inspiration, not the least of which was the unifier Solomon of antiquity, a great states man and a poet of great wisdom." Her voice is hard as a hand tightens on Liv's shoulder. "I do not excuse you from leadership while in my service, bard, but rather I push you to it."

I turn, looking into Lihnahn's eyes. "Please...my Lady..." I murmur, shaking my head, "This...I don't want this. I never asked for this. I am not a leader! I can't! I don't want to be..." I fight to put my thoughts into sensible words, but it's too much, and it swirls through me like a thunderstorm. Her green eyes hold me.
"What, child?"
"Trapped." I whisper, my voice cracking.

"Sister," the Bean Nighe suddenly at her side, "We have no wish to trap you, but you have brought yourself to see only a limited roll in which you must interact with the world. You have much potential, and even more then that, you have a great love tying you firmly against the tides of influence that would otherwise dash you viciously against the rocks of your fate, destroying you. This task is yours. If you decline, it will fall to another, less strong, less sure; one that might be more easily corrupted. Every true ruler wishes the weight of their crown was borne by another."

She smiles encouragingly at Liv. "You have trapped yourself withing the confines of your own vision. We desire to break that cage and give you wings."

Oddly, the first words that come to my mind are 'otters don't need wings.' I swallow again, and nod, showing my understanding.
"But why? Why now?" I ask, my voice still shaky, "We have never needed a ruler before now." I ask, looking into the Bean Nigh's eyes. "We Kin cannot all be ruled from one source. It's not our nature. Why would we need a leader now?"