Welcome to Gaia! ::

((um, im not sure, i wasnt really keeping track, probably about 15 minutes. my mind and fingers tend to work fast when theyre being agreeable xd ))

Cerridwen has almost forgotten that she is telling the story at the request of another. It has been many lifetimes since the entire thing had been allowed to replay in her mind, and as time passes, she becomes more and more entrapped within the confines of her past. At long last, she takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and continues.

"The song from without the bundle changes after a time, once the felis become used to living once more within the shadows of the world. This time is a bit of a dark time for the felis, one in which they have only each other for comfort. Time seems to pass slowly for them, as their hearts are not in the world anymore. Many felis die from loneliness, sorrow, especially those who separated from humans they had bonded deeply with. Alas, there was nothing to be done, and we felis had to learn to continue on without the humans, to return to the way that things were before we met them, and hope that someday, our bonds could be renewed."

She pauses again, the pain she had felt within the bundle shooting through her still. She moved on quickly however, not wishing to linger on such a sad time.

"It was only a matter of about two hundred years before the felis could once more meet up with humans. It started out innocently, but led to a disasterous falling out I am afraid. But, I shall come to that as I do. A new type of man began to appear here and there, leaving gifts to the felis of the past. It would seem that the feli story had been passed along through the generations, and one generation had decided to begin calling us gods. Of course, we knew nothing of this change, as we had no contact with the humans at this time, but it was brought to our attention slowly."

"At this time, the felis had dwindled down in number, a surprising few surviving the pain of separation from humans, many felis not wanting to bring new bundles into the world when such sorrow abounded. But, luckily, a few continued the feli way of life, returning attitudes to view humans as a creature that was foreign, and who did not know about us. Things slowly began to change however, when a group of worshippers of the feli decided that it was up to them to reforge the bond between humans and feli kinds."

"The music changed drastically at this point, and I had the feeling that a culmination was approaching slowly, but I didnt really understand what was actually happening, as I was so caught up in the story. There was only a little more to tell."

"It would seem that these people, who called themselves Druids, through kindness and respect had managed to befriend two felis. Kallaisandra and Stephanious they had been named by the Druids, and they did not mind using these names. They, being the bravest feli alive at that point, not young, but not old, and quite reckless in spirits, had allowed the humans to lure them to their small village. When the felis arrived, they found themselves treated again as gods, catered to, worshipped, and loved beyond their wildest imaginations. In time, these two felis, in thanks to the Druids for their many, many years of kind treatment, had agreed (without telling the Druids first) to bring a bundle into the world, and give it to the Druid priests as a gift. That bundle, my friend, was me."

Cerridwens story paused once more, allowing time for the implications of the last statement to sink in. In her manner, she again breathed deeply, and returned to her story.

"As the druids reached this point, the song changed again, becoming a song of worship, asking, begging for me to find my way out of the bundle. It was as if the music guided my limbs to the tie of the bundle, and the notes undid it for me. To this day, I know that I did not do those things myself. And then, as the music crashed to a stop, there was a bright light, and there they were. Kallaisandra and Stephanious, the Druids, the musicians, and me! I looked down, and found myself to be a feli, just like a small version of those I had been seeing during the song. Immediately I hopped and skipped around the area, exploring every nook and cranny. It was at that time when I noticed one Druid in particular. He was quite young, only a teenager, with long soft blonde hair. He was watching my every move, unlike the other druids who were bowing and praying their thanks at the apparant miracle of my birth. His head was bowed, that is true, but his impish blue eyes were on me all the moments that passed. I could not help myself, and ran over to see him, to study him as he had studied me."

Cerridwen smiled widely, her heart bursting with love, it was obvious that this particular fellow meant something extraordinary to her.

"A bit rudely, I demanded to know his name by my thoughts, not even realizing that this was a special gift until his shocked face turned upright to regard me, as did all the others nearby. It would seem that not since the original days of the bonds between felis and humans had this ability surfaced. My devilish friend reddened, and began to back away on his knees, as though he had done sommat wrong. Immediately I was upset by his actions, and, being only a child, began to cry. Seeing this, it was then that the most important thing of my life happened, more crucial than even my hatching: he came once more before me, and picked me up, much to the furiosity of his leader. Once within his gentle hands, I quieted, and asked once more who he was. His reply was simple, "Vericenx" (it sounds like VeriSaanze). I knew when I heard his soft reply that he would be my human. Its funny, nobody told me what to do when I emerged, and the Druids had been terrified that I would reject all of them, and not even look at them. But here I had done the complete opposite, the one and only thing they had never expected, and I had fallen completely in love with Vericenx, the lowest of the Druids, who was thought worthless."

As Cerridwen recounted this, she remembered well how he had looked, handsome and strong, beautiful but only tolerated by the others in his village. He had been planning on leaving, that was how unwelcome he felt, but once she had appeared in bundle form, he knew he could not bear to be separated from the momentous changes that he knew were coming. Little did he know what significance his presence would have, until she had come trotting over to him, wanting to know all about him.

"Poor Vericenx, he had no idea what he had gotten himself into. As I drifted off to sleep I remember the Druid elders all fighting above us, yelling about why he should not be allowed to maintain contact with me, but Vericenx simply sang a sweet lullabye in my ear, whispering the words, knowing they would not be able to take me from him if it was not what I wanted without ruining the chance at having the bond between our kinds. He didnt necessarily want me hanging around him all the time, but for now, until a better keeper could be chosen, he was well content to mind me."

Cerridwen paused again, remembering the comfort and love Vericenx had sung into her mind and soul that confusing night, and seemed to be lost in the memories of him once more.

((ok stopping here again! i dont want to overwhelm you with a giganto-post any more so than i have already hehe! oh and in case youre wondering, this one took 25 minutes, as I didnt have any idea what I would write before it came out.))

ugh, lizzy, i tried to write something but it was all coming out utter poo. ill try to write later tonight, when ive relaxed from work, and had supper, but im so exhausted that I might not be able to. I'll try writing a bit at a time at work tomorrow n emailing it to my self so i can post it at night. i just was so busy today, had no time, im sorry sad but, id rather wait to post then just post something crappy, you know?

...still having a bit of writers block, also, its the holiday weekend here so not much time to write even if i wasnt all blocked. hopefully during the week ill be able to break through it...

((ok, im changing the post style at this point because now she is really telling the story, and her words are all that matters))

Now, before I go any further, I want to explain to you what the Island was like. Back then, it was called Tora, and was home to the majority of the druids. It was off the main island, a much smaller and more remote island about a two hour boat ride away. There were three types of druids then, warriors, dreamers and singers. It may be hard now to understand the subtle differences between dreamers and singers, but I will try to explain as best as I can.

Dreamers were the druids filled with power. They could work magic, spells, and dream of the future and how to accomplish the goals of the people. Singers on the other hand, were more projectors of the will of the Dreamers. If the dreamers were working spells to heal or spells to harm, the singers project the spell, almost like becoming a funnel, narrowing the focus of the power of the dreamers so that it doesnt miss its target. One cannot function properly without the other, but both are in constant contact with the gods, and can harness great power even when alone.

When councils were held, it was the grandmothers who weilded the power, and the dreamers and singers would follow their direction to the letter, unless a god intervened. But although the grandmothers were the ones who made all of the decisions, it was the dreamers who would receive messages directly from the gods and the ancestors which all decisions were based on. Without the dreamers, the grandmothers would have been out of touch with the goods, and without the singers, understanding what the dreamers tried to impart would have been next to impossible. And of course, without the grandmothers, decision making would never have happened. Each group were equally important in the ruling of the tribes on the main island, which today is Britain and Scotland.

A more publicized group of our people were the warriors. Each dreamer and each singer had bound to them one warrior, who would live or die as their bondmate did. The greatest shame a warrior could ever feel was to survive a battle that their dreamer or singer did not. It happened rarely, but when it did, it was often an even fiercer battle to save that warrior from themself. Suicide was a more enticing option to them than living knowing they had failed the one person who counted on them the most. It was almost unheard of for a dreamer or singer to join the ancestors before their warrior except from advanced age. Once a warriors dreamer or singer was unable to dream or sing further, or had passed away, that warrior was considered retired, and could only be asked to fight again in extreme need, unless they decided on their own that they wanted to join a battle.

The bond was different for the singers and dreamers. If their warrior died, they would sing his soul to the gods and the ancestors, and continue to fight alone until the end of the battle. Then, they would return to Tora if on the main land, to wait until the day when another warrior was found whose heart travelled the same path as theirs. In the meantime, during battles they would remain on Tora, dreaming or singing with the younger, training or older retired dreamers; or singing with the like, sending their powers to those fighting afar.

Having shared this about our lives, I can now continue with my tale.

Vercoix was a dreamer, the people called him "One Wing" in honour of his long nights dreaming ceremony in which an Eagle with one wing came to claim him. He was a recently made dreamer, although he had been dreaming the power of the gods since before he could speak well enough to explain what he saw. But, there was one thing different about One Wing from all other dreamers: he dreamed only of bad things to come. Most dreamers dreamed more good than bad, but close to an equal amount of both, as the gods and times demanded. One Wing was greatly feared, for whenever he dreamed, it foretold great disaster and destruction which could only be remedied by the most extreme measures. War, famine, natural disasters, these were his only domain. So when I became so attached to him, and he to me, all the other singers and dreamers were dismayed, as this was seen as a sort of bad omen.

I knew nothing of this as a kid of course, only that my One Wing (as I quickly learned to call him) was the most magical, powerful person alive at the time. They say the gods give with one hand and take with the other, and in taking away One Wings ability to see positive events, the gods left him with power superior to all other dreamers who have ever come before him. It was a bitter pill, but one which he swallowed willingly having known no other life. He was used to the slanted eyes which followed him whenever he approached the dreamers tents, the glares following the revealing of a dream, and the hostility and fear that generally followed him everywhere.

My childhood was spent entirely with One Wing. He taught me of the power within myself, how to speak their language aloud through magic, how to do many things that most felis at the time never used their power to do. He helped me to mature mentally, magically, spiritually, and physically, in that order. Each day with him was a blessing for which I will never be able to accurately describe, and so I will not try to do so.

At long last, after many months I awoke one morning as an adult, looking very similar to how I appear now, I was a seraphim, the "holiest" of all feli types to the druids. One Wing awoke to the development when he least expected it, the morning after a particularly dark dreaming. And so, it was a bittersweet day for him, and for me. We went to the dreamers tent at once, and as we did so each eye within sight was on us, gasping with astonishment at my transformation being timed so perfectly with the most dangerous dream to come to One Wing up until that time. They didnt know of course, that much darker times still lay ahead. My transformation became to them a sign of the times. An angel goddess given to them during their darkest days. All the people knew of me, and their hopes hung on my survival. The more desperate times became, the more tightly the people clung to their faith in me, my timely appearance, and my being a literal sign from the gods to them to not loose hope though the figurative storms gathered around them without an end in sight.

Alas, adulthood was not for me a joyus time as my childhood had been.

It started out filled with promise. I was given the honour of doing my own long nights, with only One Wing to accompany me, as though I was a child of the people myself. Such a privalege that was, and how wonderous it was to set out on that journey. I had, with the aid of my bondmate, my first dream of the gods and the ancestors. The animal which came to me however, was one unknown to the Druids. It was an Elder Feli. One had never been seen by human eyes before, and with me One Wing was able to view the beautiful and graceful creature. It was the grandmother of my mother, a stunning feli of blue and green, who had words of inspiration and hope for me, to carry me through the hard times she knew lay ahead. She did not share her name with me, as names are power, but from that day on in all important things, One Wing would paint onto my side the symbol which had adorned her, the cross and the circle, in the druid way. These symbols have never left me in any life, and are the patterns you see on me today. They move around from one place to another at times, but this location I wear today is the exact same as the first time it was done.

After my long nights were finished, One Wing and I were finally able to start the council about his dream. The call had gone out before we left on my journey of discovery, and when we arrived home all the main lands most powerful dreamers, singers, and even the most elder grandmothers were waiting anxiously to see what news One Wing was charged with delivering.

His voice was as molten silver from the moment he stood to speak. "Elder grandmothers, grandmothers, dreamers, singers, and warriors, thank you from the bottom of my heart for answering my call. I know that you are all concerned, as word from me has never before brought blessings, and as much as it tears at my soul to say, this time is no exception. Please, bear with me, for the message is long and full of sorrow, but perhaps thanks to this warning we will be better prepared for the times ahead, and more of the people will live on to teach and lead the next generation.

"I have seen things which terrified me, and things I did not completely understand. Men with dark hair, wearing gold, silver, bronze. Landing on the shores in huge boats, killing the people without a word of greeting, without any councils with our leaders to address a wrong done to them. They have arrows of fire, they burn villages, swarming like ants with red brooms on their heads. Their heads are also made of metal, I cannot begin to grasp how such a man can be alive and kill our people, but it is true. They sweep across the land, like locusts, burning, killin and stealing without pause, they do not spare the children, but they do worse than kill the women. Were my life dependant on it, I would never repeat what I saw them doing to our brave women warriors, so depraved and shocking it was.

"Never in all my years of dreaming have I received a message like this, but I tell you all to take heart. The gods have given us a warning! They do not want the people of their enemy gods to take our land from us, they want our people to survive, to endure, and to raise to the challenge and prove that our gods have made US the strong ones. We must act quickly, band together all the tribes, we will not win if we are divided by petty squabbles and nattering cowards. We can win, and if we place our trust in the gods, and the messages they will surely continue to send to us when we need them the most, we WILL win."

Well, I'm sure you can imagine how that went over in the council. The murmurs began the instant One Wing was seated. Different tribes were immediately fighting about what was the best way to deal with the forseen future, some tribes didnt even believe his vision. The Coritaniious from the northern most reaches of the main island were the most vocal in their criticisms. All hushed at once as the most elder grandmother, an Aritani, the tribe most hated and most troublesome tribe, everyone was worried when they saw who had risen to speak.

"I have heard the words of the Dark Dreamer, and I can remain silent no longer. I too have known of a dark time ahead. My ancestors have come to me every day for a moon, and they have warned me strongly of the dangers to come. He speaks the truth, and deep in their hearts, everyone in this council knows this. We must put aside everything else, we must become allies, because my enemys enemy is my friend, so you are all the Aritani's friends. Anyone who will kill one of us, will kill one of you. Together our fierceness will be a terrifying force. The Aritani are with you Dark Dreamer, we answer your call. We will fight." she said, and slowly moved to be seated, with much help from her younger counterparts.

The silence filling the room following her words was complete, my nerves were tight, the Aritani have never been willing to ally with anyone, let alone a dreamer of the Eisenic. But soon, one after another elder grandmother stood and voiced their agreement, until at last, all the tribes had agreed, we would fight this evil together, whatever the cost to our spirits.

omg
i just had a huge post typed up and my browser ate it.
but never fear! i shall retype it!
expect a post later today biggrin

Perhaps it was because some impending feeling of doom that allowed Requiem to listen without getting overly emotional. She did understand how grave it was along with how heart-piercing the betrayal the Lutianna committed was. It would be enough to drive those fighting into despair. Yet, the pale seraphim remained detached from the situation, listening carefully to each detail as Cerridwen revealed them. As the hopes for Tora began to fade, it almost seemed as if her pastel companion was beginning to slow in her tale. It was only when she mentioned how her human, her One Wing, was struck down, that Requiem understood why she was hesitating.

A short silence thus followed, for One Wing's fate was a grave one indeed. The mute Feli's lids began to quiver slightly, wanting to see Cerridwen's face, wanting to comfort her. Yet as her eyes nearly flittered open, the Celtic Feli continued on, her words now a bit stronger than before. Again, Requiem held her deeply shaded lids shut, so she could then focus upon the seemingly miraculous powers suddenly bestowed upon her friend.

The pale one listened in awe, though there was absolutely no doubt that Cerridwen was capable of such a feat. Perhaps it was love that created such power... she thought to herself as she heard of One Wing's final spell. As the tale seemingly came to an end, her pastel friend suddenly introduced the leader of the Artani warriors. A whole new spin was added, and though Requiem was already quite intentive, she doubled her efforts to listen in carefully.