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TimeSlips: looking back and forward!

 

Timeslips cover

We’ve reached another huge milestone and once again it’s time to take a few moments to thank everyone who visits and travels through history with me! A few of you have been here since the beginning with me and I want you to know how much I appreciate your continued following through all of the paths we’ve taken in exploring history. Some of you arrived here via the Sims, where this all started, some made the journey through those mysterious Outlander Stones, and yet others have sailed in with the Vikings!  No matter how you have found us, many of you have chosen to stay on the journey.  I can not tell you how much it means to me, how much I appreciate your visits, your comments, questions, and your involvement in this site. I bid you all a gracious and heartfelt welcome and hope that you will continue to enjoy exploring the past with me!  As I mentioned, we have reached a personal milestone for me- 100,000 views! If you have been with me from the earliest beginnings, you will understand why this is such an amazing accomplishment for me.

I began this blog as a way to share my little fantasy world of the Sims 3, my builds, my characters and my stories within that context. One thing has been here since that initial beginning and that has been a life long love of history! I used that Sims platform to begin sharing my love of history, story telling and the weaving of those passions together. I am forever grateful to the Sims 3 for providing me with a basis to begin this journey!  If you look back in my archives, you will find the creations, the ideas and the stories that have led us to where we are today- in the middle of the Viking era with historical figures such as Ragnar, Rollo, King Ecbert, King Charles of France and others who will arrive in our future.

When I began building the castles and homes of history, I did it with the thought and premise that every building has a history filled with people, events and stories never told. I went on the idea that perhaps if one had such ability, they might be able to feel the vibrations, hear the sounds of that past and see the stories unfold in some way. Much of my early writing was a combination of building or renovation progress and the stories that came to life with that progress. I based it much on the way you might see it if you were renovating a historical building in real life. Each time you strip away a layer of paint or dust, you find a new layer, a new story of the past.

As I’ve mentioned, it all began with Sims 3, with castles, with royals, with history and fantasy woven together. Those creations, characters and stories were a huge part of  our beginnings here . While I have progressed from them, I have not forgotten them and I am proud of them. That early work enabled me to set a foundation for this blog that I have tried to keep in mind even today as I use other platforms such books and television to hopefully inspire and encourage you on your own explorations of history. My intent has always been to present history in a way that is interesting and captures your attention. I have always tried, from the beginning to present historical facts in a way that you might be curious enough to go off on your own search of history. In the past, I used the Sims 3 platform to weave together a long and ongoing look at history with a huge dose of fantasy… the Sims allowed me to explore that venue, that realm of vampires, fairies, witches and time travel and use them in telling the stories of the past. As I used that method, I always tried to incorporate actual events, facts and real life mysteries where ever possible along the way. Those early stories, while often fanciful did lead us through history from the present to the past and back again. Yes, I have taken a break from them, but as any writer can attest to, sometimes you need to step back, take a long break, and perhaps re-evaluate your work. The story remains in the background waiting for that time when you can return, re-focused with a clearer idea of where to go. That is where my story is… always in the back of my mind, always in my heart, waiting for that time when I can return to it and give it the proper attention and focus that it deserves!

In a way, my deviation and time away from the story is actually a way of doing more research into the past while keeping my original story and those characters that are now like a part of my family in mind. In some ways, the paths are always connected whether  or not you are ever aware of it. My mind continues to research, to piece together events and people together in relation to my beloved story of the past, the present and the future!

For those of you who have arrived later in the journey and have not searched this space for other bits of information, I can only suggest and hope that you take some time during your visits here to explore those other times, places and stories that are stored here! My archives have become a rather vast vault of time and history spanning from the earliest Roman history in Britain, to that now ever present Viking era that involves so much more than just the Vikings, it veers from tales and history of King Arthur to the mysteries of the princes of the tower. Our journey through time brought us to the world of Outlander, where we became lost in the Standing Stones and spent much time in the 1700s of Scotland and early America, and because of that trip, we found ourselves immersed in the world of the Vikings and early Saxon history! As a result, we are now on a journey through the early medieval period that includes those Vikings, Saxons, and everyone else in between that the Vikings influenced from the Frankish Empire to the creation of Normandy and the eventual battle for a united Kingdom of Britain, as well as future travels to Iceland, Ireland, Scotland, and possibly even on to earliest explorations of North America.

So, how do my early stories of history still remain connected to this present path we are on?  Well, for that you need to take a look at some of those early stories and where my characters have been in the past. First of all, you may need a short summary of how their stories actually began with a fantasy called Royals Castle and a young woman named Eleanor Deguille… my first blog entries covered the beginnings of her story and her life. She began at Royals Castle, traveled through time to various points in history, arrived in the present and then travelled back again. Throughout her story, she met a number of historical figures, viewed some important events and, her story introduced us to some other important characters who had their own stories to tell.

Lady Eleanor DeGuille through time and history, from a lonely child pawn of Royals to an uncertain romance, timeless friendship to a Mother's spirit within her guiding her journey and her destiny.

Lady Eleanor DeGuille through time and history, from a lonely child pawn of Royals to an uncertain romance, timeless friendship to a Mother’s spirit within her guiding her journey and her destiny.

Eleanor’s story was the start of this blog! If you are interested, you can read those earliest beginnings here:

https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2013/07/19/eleanors-journal-entries/

For another look at Eleanor and how her life is woven together within the threads of history and legends, you can read this story about the legends of Avalon, Melusine the Water Goddes and my interpretation of that legend as it shows up through history with people such as Henry VIII and his ancestors making claims to being descended from Arthur and even Melusine! Melusine is a legend or tale that has it’s origins in early France, mainly Poitou, the low countries, and Normandy! She was often referred to as the  fairy of Normandy, or Bretagne. Connecting Eleanor to this legend gave her a more solid connection to the history of France.

Avalon cover1

Arthur and Vivianne

Arthur and Vivianne

https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/melusinas-story-a-royals-link-to-avalon/

Eleanor Deguille’s mysterious life eventually connected her to the beginnings of tales of Britain, Romans  and a man named Arthur… that is was where her life, her time travel and her story began. While her story and the rest of it is steeped in the fantasy of those Vampires, Witches, Fairies and time travel, it is woven together with those real events of history. Eleanor’s story took her from that early beginning in the fairy tale realm of British history to the 1400s and 1500s of France, England and Scotland. In those earliest beginnings we met a man named Eric North. Eric’s story is just as important as Eleanor’s and it is a connecting point for that earliest time in Britain’s history. Eric’s story begins in the present day, and then goes on to tell the story of the earliest migrations of the Norse to areas of Northern Britannia as it was known then by the Romans who inhabited the isle. Eric began his life in one of the far off North places and made a journey by sea as a young child with his family to a place now known as the Isle of Skye on the coast of Scotland. He spent his youth growing up in that place which would eventually become Dunvegan Castle.  I used this place and this Castle as the setting for Eric’s birthplace and ancestral home because of it’s rich ties to early Viking history as well as it’s stories of such mythical things as the Fairie Flag. It’s location also lent itself well to making it plausible as a place that some of those earliest travelers might have made their way to. I have always attempted to make those  connections where ever possible when weaving together the fantasy and the history.

You can read part of Eric’s story here:

https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2014/06/20/eleanors-journal72-erics-memories-a-time-before-vampyres-and-a-life-of-contradictions/

Eric in the Castle Eric's final farewell to loved ones

While Eric’s character and story are that of the fantasy realm, his story does make the connections from that earliest migration of the Norse, their settling in this new unknown place and their eventual plausible meetings with the Romans who were attempting to advance from the southern portions of Britannia into the northern portions which were already inhabited by groups such these ancient Norse and Picts…  Eric’s story tells of the rich history  those northern regions now known as Scotland. His story presents the earliest known legends and theories that go back as far as Egyptian migrations to that area!

You can find more of the ancient history of  the Romans and the Norse migration here:

https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2014/06/24/from-the-creator-ancient-history-connects-the-norse-with-romans-and-king-arthur/

This early post explains some of the theories and thoughts on possible Egyptian migration to Ireland and Scotland!

https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2014/07/20/from-the-creator-historical-information/

As to why I chose the Isle of Skye for the setting, you can read that here:

https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2014/06/02/from-the-creator-some-historical-background/

If you go back and read some of these early posts, I think you will see how Eric came to play such an important part in my story, how he sort of took over the story with his life and his story and why he remains such an important connection for me on my path through history which has landed me in this time of the Vikings and kept me here for so long!

 

All of those early stories of history have led us to where we are right now, exploring the real history of all of those people that Michael Hirst and other creators/authors introduce us to! One such important person is Rollo, who we have seen claw his way out of the shadows and darkness of his early life to put himself on the path to his own fame and dynasty.

 

Portrait of Rollo's destiny. Credit to Ines Jagger of Vikings Aftermath group and to lindamarieanson of deviant art. 600px-Cronological_tree_william_I_svg

William the Conqueror AKA William I

Recently, I began reading a book about our Viking, Rollo’s descendant, William the Conqueror and was rather surprised to find a mention of the Fairie Flag in it. The Fairie Flag is one of those relics of Dunvegan Castle that I originally found so intriguing when researching a past for my character,  Eric.

Dunvegan cup, Fairie Flag and rory mors horn

Dunvegan cup, Fairie Flag and rory mors horn

fairy_flag_2

http://fairyroom.com/2013/01/fairy-flag-of-dunvegen/

More information on the history of Scotland, Clans, Dunvegan Castle and the Fairy Flag can be found in this early post:

https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2014/06/21/from-the-creator-some-history-of-clans-in-scotland/

Now, as I mentioned, the book I was reading was about William the Conqueror and Normandy so I was immediately puzzled and curious about this  reference to the Fairy Flag. The book is  The Lion and the Rose: William Rising by Hilary Rhodes. It is the first book in a series about William, his history and his conquest of England. Yes, it is historical fiction, but it is extremely well researched and I think it presents a great picture of the man and his path to the Crown of England. The author presents and provides some excellent resources and references as well as weaving together an interesting story!

http://www.amazon.com/Lion-Rose-Book-One-William-ebook/dp/B00L4K5GKE/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1433189138&sr=1-3&keywords=the+lion+and+the+rose

Fairie flag and Robert of Normandy

In the beginning of the book, William’s Father, Robert the Magnificent or Robert the Devil, travels to the Byzantine Empire where he meets the Empress Zoe, who shares a foreshadowing, a prophecy of his future with him. That prophecy is a bit of a puzzle for readers to decipher throughout the book or books. I found it interesting, intriguing and of course I had to go in search of answers!  The prophecy states: The fighting man and the wyvern and the fairie flag, all will come, and all will give battle, but it is the lion that reaches for the roots. I can not see the end of that. I can not see if it will be enough. The deepest roots can be ripped free. And there is a great ripping to come, aye.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_I,_Duke_of_Normandy

In attempting to make sense of this puzzle, there is one other piece of information that shows up on the same page and is an important clue. This bit of information ultimately gives us the answer to the puzzle of the Fairie Flag and links the entire story and history of Dunvegan Castle to that of the Vikings. That clue is found in the mention of one Harald Sigurdsson… otherwise known  as Harald Hardrada!

Harald_Hardrada_window_in_Kirkwall_Cathedral_geograph_2068881

Harald Sigurdsson (Old Norse: Haraldr Sigurðarson; c. 1015 – 25 September 1066), given the epithet Hardrada (harðráði, roughly translated as “stern counsel” or “hard ruler”) in the sagas, was King of Norway (as Harald III) from 1046 to 1066. In addition, he unsuccessfully claimed the Danish throne until 1064 and the English throne in 1066. Prior to becoming king, Harald had spent around fifteen years in exile as a mercenary and military commander in Kievan Rus’ and in the Byzantine Empire.

When he was fifteen years old, in 1030, Harald fought in the Battle of Stiklestad together with his half-brother Olaf Haraldsson (later Saint Olaf). Olaf sought to reclaim the Norwegian throne, which he had lost to the Danish king Cnut the Great two years prior. In the battle, Olaf and Harald were defeated by forces loyal to Cnut, and Harald was forced in exile to Kievan Rus’ (the sagas’ Garðaríki). He thereafter spent some time in the army of Grand Prince Yaroslav the Wise, eventually obtaining rank as a captain, until he moved on to Constantinople with his companions around 1034. In Constantinople, he soon rose to become the commander of the Byzantine Varangian Guard, and saw action on the Mediterranean Sea, in Asia Minor, Sicily, possibly in the Holy Land, Bulgaria and in Constantinople itself, where he became involved in the imperial dynastic disputes. Harald amassed considerable wealth during his time in the Byzantine Empire, which he shipped to Yaroslav in Kievan Rus’ for safekeeping. He finally left the Byzantines in 1042, and arrived back in Kievan Rus’ in order to prepare his campaign of reclaiming the Norwegian throne. Possibly to Harald’s knowledge, in his absence the Norwegian throne had been restored from the Danes to Olaf’s illegitimate son Magnus the Good.

In 1046, Harald joined forces with Magnus’s rival in Denmark (Magnus had also become king of Denmark), the pretender Sweyn Estridsson, and started raiding the Danish coast. Magnus, unwilling to fight his uncle, agreed to share the kingship with Harald, since Harald in turn would share his wealth with him. The co-rule ended abruptly the next year as Magnus died, and Harald thus became the sole ruler of Norway. Domestically, Harald crushed all local and regional opposition, and outlined the territorial unification of Norway under a national governance. Harald’s reign was probably one of relative peace and stability, and he instituted a viable coin economy and foreign trade. Probably seeking to restore Cnut’s “North Sea Empire“, Harald also claimed the Danish throne, and spent nearly every year until 1064 raiding the Danish coast and fighting his former ally, Sweyn. Although the campaigns were successful, he was never able to conquer Denmark. Not long after renouncing his claim to Denmark, the former Earl of Northumbria, Tostig Godwinson, brother of the newly chosen English king Harold Godwinson, pledged his allegiance to Harald and invited him to claim the English throne. Harald went along and entered Northern England in September 1066, raided the coast and defeated English regional forces in the Battle of Fulford near York. Although initially successful, Harald was defeated and killed in an attack by Harold Godwinson’s forces in the Battle of Stamford Bridge.

Modern historians have often considered Harald’s death at Stamford Bridge, which brought an end to his invasion, as the end of the Viking Age. Harald is also commonly held to have been the last great Viking king, or even the last great Viking.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harald_Hardrada

 

Harald Hardrada could be considered as the fighting man of the prophecy, but what connection would that have in relation to the other parts, such as the Fairie Flag of Dunvegan Castle?  What does the Fairie Flag or Dunvegan have to do with this at all? Well, for that, you need to know the history of Dunvegan Castle, and the theories on the origins of the Fairie flag!

dunvegan8

Dunvegan Castle

dunvegan3

Dunvegan Castle2

 

https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2014/06/09/from-the-creator-history-of-dunvegan-castle/

Although three individual Chiefs in the last seven generations have been comprehensively ruined by the apocalyptic difficulties caused by the unrelenting hostility from centralised government towards the Clan system practised behind the Highland line, they have remained faithful to the Rock. Dunvegan Castle is said to be the oldest inhabited castle in Northern Scotland, having been occupied by the Chiefs of MacLeod continuously, for over seven centuries and still today remaining the Ancestral home of the present chief, Hugh MacLeod of MacLeod, the 30th of the line, and his family.

Geneologies trace the origins of the McClures and the MacLeods to a thirteenth century fellow named Leod (1200-1283), the son of Olaf the Black, King of the Isle of Man, who in turn was the descendent of the eleventh century Norse King Harald Hardrada. Leod married Lady Macarailt, an heiress to Dunvegan, the birth of their two sons (Tormond and Torquil) marking the entry of the MacLeods into Dunvegan and the pages of history. Very simply, “Mac” is a Gaelic word meaning “son of” with Tormond fathering the MacLeods of Harris, and Torquil begetting the MacLeods of Lewis. (Incidentally, the McClure’s are the descendents of Tormond.)

 As to the theories on the Fairie Flag…  Legends, however fantastic or far-fetched they may appear to be, are rarely without some trace of historical fact. When a relic survives to tell its own story, that at least is one fact it is impossible to ignore. The precious Fairy Flag of Dunvegan, the most treasured possession of the Clan, is just such a relic …The traditional tales about its origin, some of them very old indeed, have two themes – Fairies and Crusaders. Fairy stories are difficult to relate to fact; they often occur as a substitute for forgotten truth. The connection with the Crusades can, however, be linked to the only definite information available as to the origin of the Fairy Flag – the fabric, thought once to have been dyed yellow, is silk from the Middle East (Syria or Rhodes); experts have dated it between the 4th and 7th centuries A.D., in other words, at least 400 years before the First Crusade. So was it the robe of an early christian saint? Or the war banner of Harold Hardrada, King of Norway, killed in 1066, or did it emerge mysteriously from some grassy knoll in Skye? The Legends are all we have to guide us to the answer.

So, there is our connection between Harald Hardrada, the Fairie Flag and Dunvegan Castle! Harald’s connection to the prophecy and to William the Conqueror is that he was one of the fighting men attempting to lay claim to the crown of England at the same time as William. He felt he also had a valid claim and chose to fight Harald Godwinsson for it. It is sometimes thought that his battle with Harald brought about the end of the Viking age, and the end of Harald’s rule of England as well. Harald Godwinsson and his forces defeated Harald Hardrata at the  Battle of Stamford Bridge but did not have time to recover fully before having to turn around and face William and his army at Hastings. The forces were well evenly matched and the battle was close. It is thought that had Godwinsson’s army been better rested and recovered from the previous battle with Hardrada, they would probably have been victorious in the battle of Hastings.

There is one  bit of information on Harald Hardrada that should be of interest to all of us who are waiting for the next raiding season of the Vikings Saga to arrive…

Harald Hardrada was a descendant and a member of the Fairhair/Finehair dynasty of Norway. A member of that dynasty is rumored to be arriving on our Viking shores soon! One Harald Finehair and brother, Halfdan the Black will be showing up as rivals and threats to Ragnar.

peter franzen4

https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2015/05/06/vikings-season-4-coming-soon-to-a-village-near-you/

Harald Fairhair (Old Norse: Haraldr Hárfagri, Norwegian: Harald Hårfagre; c. 850 – c. 932) was remembered by medieval historians as the first King of Norway. According to traditions current in Norway and Iceland in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, he reigned from c. 872 to 930. Most of his life remains uncertain, since the extant accounts of his life in the sagas were set down in writing around three centuries after his lifetime. A few remnants of skaldic praise poems attributed to contemporary court poets exist which seem to refer to Harald’s victories against opponents in Norway. The information supplied in these poems is inconsistent with the tales in the sagas in which they are transmitted, and the sagas themselves often disagree on the details of his background and biography.  Two of his sons, Eric Bloodaxe and Haakon the Good, succeeded Harald to become kings after his death.

Harald_Hardrada_saga_ancestry

A last bit of interesting information on Harald Hardrada…. it seems that there has been some effort and attempt being made to make a bio-pic movie about his life. I just recently came across a few articles regarding the possibility of Leonardo DeCaprio producing and starring in such a movie. The articles are a bit dated though and I have heard nothing else about such a project. I am curious about it  and wonder if it is still going forward…. With all of interest now in Viking history, I would think it might do well!

http://www.slashfilm.com/leonardo-dicaprio-producing-and-could-star-in-viking-film-king-harald/

 

This battle for the crown of England was  much a case of family disputes and feuds over who had right or claim to that crown. Harald Hardrada had a claim based on his link to the previous ruler, Harthacanut of Denmark and England but realistically he had a very weak claim at best. Harald Godwinsson had no real claim either, the only with any true justifiable blood claim to the crown was indeed William the Conqueror, who was at least a blood relative- even though distant- of King Edward. So, in this sense, William would end up digging deep into the family roots and toppling all to claim the crown. The only other person with a better and legitimate blood claim was unfortunately a young boy with no hope of winning any battle for the crown.

The one other part of the prophecy that we have not mentioned yet is the wyvern.

A wyvern (/ˈwvərn/ WEYE-vərn), sometimes spelled wivern, is a legendary winged creature with a dragon‘s head and wings; a reptilian body; two legs; and a barbed tail.

The wyvern in its various forms is important to heraldry, frequently appearing as a mascot of schools and athletic teams (chiefly in the United States and United Kingdom). It is a popular creature in European and British literature, video games, and modern fantasy. The wyvern is often (but not always) associated with cold weather and ice, and it will sometimes possess a venomous bite or have the ability to breathe fire. The wyvern is a frequent charge in English heraldry and vexillology, also occasionally appearing as a supporter or crest.

In regards to it’s mention in the prophecy, a wyvern is used as symbol in one very  important place.  The Wyvarn is depicted as the symbol of Wessex, the home of Ecbert and his descendents including Alfred the Great and on to Edward the Confessor who left the future rule of England in such dispute and question that his witan/council even went so far as to search for a long exiled and hidden heir residing in Hungary!

After the Danish conquest of England in 1016, Canute had the sons of Edward’s half brother Edmund Ironside, Edward said to be only a few months old, and his brother, Edmund, sent to the Swedish court of Olof Skötkonun  (who was either Canute’s half-brother or stepbrother), supposedly with instructions to have the children murdered. Instead, the two boys were secretly sent either to Kiev, where Olof’s daughter Ingigerd was the Queen, or to Poland, where Canute’s uncle Bolesław I Chrobry was duke.  Later Edward made his way to Hungary, probably in the retinue of Ingigerd’s son-in-law, András in 1046, whom he supported in his successful bid for the Hungarian throne. Many years later when it became apparent that King Edward and his wife Edyth were not going to produce and heir, a search for any missing heirs ensued and Edward the exile was found in Hungary.

On hearing the news of his being alive, Edward the Confessor recalled him to England in 1056 and made him his heir. Edward offered the last chance of an undisputed succession within the Saxon royal house. News of Edward’s existence came at a time when the old Anglo-Saxon Monarchy, restored after a long period of Danish domination, was heading for catastrophe. The Confessor, personally devout but politically weak and without children, was unable to make an effective stand against the steady advance of the powerful and ambitious sons of Godwin, Earl of Wessex. From across the Channel William, Duke of Normandy, also had an eye on the succession. Edward the Exile appeared at just the right time. Approved by both king and by the Witan, the Council of the Realm, he offered a way out of the impasse, a counter both to the Godwinsons and to William, and one with a legitimacy that could not be readily challenged.

Edward, who had been in the custody of Henry III, the Holy Roman Emperor, finally came back to England at the end of August 1057. But he died within two days of his arrival. The exact cause of Edward’s death remains unclear, but he had many powerful enemies, and there is a strong possibility that he was murdered, although by whom is not known with any certainty. It is known, though, that his access to the king was blocked soon after his arrival in England for some unexplained reason, at a time when the Godwinsons, in the person of Harold, were once again in the ascendant. This turn of events left the throne of England to be disputed by Earl Harold and Duke William, ultimately leading to the Norman Conquest of England.  Edward the exile did leave an heir, a young boy- Edgar the Aetheling who was immediately made heir apparent or Atheling. When Edward died, the boy, a young teen at the time was too young to successfully wage a fight for the crown or win any war that was certain to follow. The council feared being taken over again by outsiders waiting for a chance to claim England so they chose instead to elect Harald Godwinsson to the rule. Edgar eventually found asylum in Scotland with Malcom III, who had married Edgar’s sister Margaret.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_the_%C3%86theling

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edward_the_Confessor

Wessex is often symbolised by a wyvern or dragon.

Both Henry of Huntingdon and Matthew of Westminster talk of a golden dragon being raised at the Battle of Burford in AD 752 by the West Saxons. The Bayeux Tapestry depicts a fallen golden dragon, as well as a red/golden/white dragon at the death of King Harold II, who was previously Earl of Wessex. However, dragon standards were in fairly wide use in Europe at the time, being derived from the ensign of the Roman cohort, and there is no evidence that it identified Wessex.

 

800px-Flag_of_Wessex_svg

Wyvern on early flag of Wessex

 

Why is any of this important in relation to where we’re at now in history with the Viking age?  It is extremely important because the Vikings of our Vikings saga as presented by Michael Hirst, and hopefully soon the onscreen version of Bernard Cornwell’s Saxon Chronicles, will soon move on to the next years, the next era of the Viking history that includes so much more than just the story of Ragnar Lodbrok and his adventures. We will soon be traveling to the time when Ragnar’s sons and so many others make their own marks and contributions to history. We will see the beginning of Rollo’s great dynasty in Normandy take shape, we will see Ecbert’s grandson, Alfred the Great will take his place in history. The battles for land and claims to kingdoms will begin in earnest and we will witness all of it. As we do, I will continue to help weave the history and the stories together, and perhaps one of these days, I will even find time and inspiration to return to some of my original stories.  I hope that all of you will remain on the journey with me and enjoy all of it!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eleanor’s Journal 80: After the Death

Finally, a story update! So sorry for the long delay on it but hopefully I can get back on track with it now! This story update does not contain any illustrations other than a few Character references. I really just wanted to get this posted as soon as possible since there has been such a long absence from the actual story. I do apologize for that!  this is the continuation of Eric’s ancient past and the people in it.

Previous story post, Eric’s story: Visions in the fire: https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2014/07/26/eleanors-journal-79-visions-in-the-fire/

 

The energy of Reina

           Eric’s soul was still fighting as it slammed back into his body and Reina’s parting words were burnt into his mind, engraved there forever. Sometime much later, as the sun began to rise over the river, he regained consciousness. His heart was barely beating, his breath so shallow that it was almost not noticeable. It took the greatest effort for him to lift his head and his eyelids to see the group of women kneeling around him. The reminder from Reina was the only clear thought in his head. “Look around you, there are those who still need you.”

                 The women gasped at his slight movement and Artorius, who had been standing aside guarding their mourning, quickly stepped in. He picked up Eric’s nearly lifeless body, threw it over one of the horses, swung himself up and yelled for the women to follow as he took off up the hill towards the safety of the closest enclosure. Eric’s body would not withstand another dose of sunlight and Artorius knew it.

                        The river they buried Reina next to was between the Fairie realm and the remains of Eric’s home where Svein resided under the heaviest of Vampyre guards. Artorius headed for that place as it was the closest. It was much in ruins and held the worst of memories for all of them, but there was little other choice for the time being. He knew that the women would be in dread of returning there and thought momentarily of sending them back to the Fairie realm. He did not have time though to argue with them and he thought that their concern for Eric would well outweigh their fears of their old home. Artorius urged the horse on up to the protection of the buildings not waiting for the women to catch up. They all knew the way well and were close behind, leading the other horse.

                      The Vampyre guards, having heard the commotion, were waiting with doors to the stable open. Scoithin had mounted the other horse and arrived in a flurry. The horse well lathered, the woman’s hair and cloak whirling out around her as she jumped down unassisted and ran to Eric’s side as Artorius pulled him down to the floor. She cast out orders to the guards and to Artorius as she knelt down next to Eric to assure that he was indeed still alive. No one thought to disagree or question her. It was obvious that she was well in charge of this particular situation. It would be apparent later on that Scoithin was well in charge of most situations. She was not a woman to be taken lightly and her quiet power would long be one to lead this group.

              

          Scoithin very quickly had Eric put to rest in one of the more private sleeping chambers. She determined that he would live and what was most needed for the present time was deep sleep. To assist in that deepest sleep she poured some vile smelling liquid down his throat and left his sisters, Freya and Helga to watch over him.

                            While she was occupied with seeing to Eric, Artorius was meeting with the guards to inquire about the condition of Svein, who was locked away in a darkest lower chamber. Young Scotia sat at a table near by, head in hands, listening closely to what was being discussed about her Father and crying quietly. Her Father who had once been so strong, so full of life and cheer, so full of love for her and her Mother… was now broken in his mind and spirit, locked away in some dark unreachable place filled with the demons that haunted him, might haunt him forever it seemed.

                             The men continued their discussion and seemed to forget she was in the room. Scoithin entered the room, saw her grand daughter weeping in the corner. She approached the men holding up her hands and firmly demanded they cease their talking, pointing to the young girl who had sat silently taking in every word. “Cease these words now! Have yourselves some heart for his daughter who has already endured enough for a lifetime in the past months.” The men suddenly looked towards the table and bowed their heads in remorse.

                       Artorius moved to the table where Scoithin was attempting to soothe the girl. He waved the men out of the room and knelt close to the two women, reached his hand out to Scotia’s face, which was buried in her Grandmother’s shoulder. He stroked her face and turned her to face him with care. “Scotia, I know these words, this truth is hurting you greatly now but, it is your Father who is in the greatest pain. You do understand this, do you not?” She looked at him tearfully and nodded her head. He and Scoithin held her and comforted her as much as possible while he went on with the most difficult of thing he felt he should ever have to say to one so young.

                                  “Your Father is in some darkest of in between places right now. He can not move forward out of that place and return to us, nor can he see clearly to move on to the other side where he might find peace. It has come time for us to help on his way to either side… for us to put it in the hands of the Gods, much as we did with Eric.”

                          The realization of what he was saying hit Scotia and she shook with weeping. She shook her head fiercely. “Nay, I can not do that. I know what you are asking and I can not give you leave to do it. I can not bear it, can not stand to lose him.” Her voice came in soft gasps between sobs.

                         Artorius brushed her hair away from her forehead. “Would you have him live on the way he must now, chained to a wall in the dark being held by those guards who must hold him in the tightest of grips just in order to force feed him nourishment to ensure he does not die of that? You think that is a life he truly wants? You have lost him already. If he stays this way much longer, he will never come back to you or recognize you.”

        

Scotia of Svein, daughter of Svein and Gizella, grand daughter of Scoithin

Scotia of Svein, daughter of Svein and Gizella, grand daughter of Scoithin

              Scotia paled and clutched her Grandmother’s arms. The older Vampyre woman looked down at her sadly with tears in her own eyes. “Scotia, my dearest one… He is right in what he says. This man who is locked away in such pain is not your Father. If he continues on this way, he will never be your Father again. His mind will snap completely, will separate forever and he will cease to recognize any of us. He will live out his life in some madness of the soul, never be human or vampyre, but some horrific semblance ever wanting only to roam the earth in search of blood…”

                   Scoithin stood then and paced the room thinking before she spoke. “I have a thought, of one last thing that might bring him back to us.” She paused and stared at her grand daughter with tears still in her eyes. “It is a great risk and it may not work… but at this point, I see little else in choice, save putting him out misery immediately.” Artorius looked up at her with some doubt. Scotia stopped weeping to wipe her eyes and her nose, and peered up at Scoithin with some hope.

                     Scoithin went back to pacing and holding hands to her face while she shook her head back and forth. “No, I should not even be thinking of this. It is far to dangerous to attempt and it may drive him further into the darkness instead of back towards us…” She stood still and looked up at the ceiling speaking in her ancient language in some form of prayer.

                   Artorius finally bid her to go on with it and she slowly voiced her thoughts again. Staring again at Scotia, she spoke softly in a murmur. “The girl looks exactly like her Mother.” Her voice broke as she remembered her daughter. “Ahhh Scotia, tis plain for all the world to know you are your Mother’s daughter. Every moment I lay eyes on you, I see Gizella. I hear her voice in you as you speak to me. You are the only thing that keeps my own heart alive, you keep her alive for me in so many ways. When I look at you, I can erase that last sight her from my mind. Perhaps the sight, the sound of you near to him will do the same for Svein?” Scoithin’s face showed her heartache and her fear. “The guards tried inside of him, to tell him, let him know that you were alive but his mind seems far past that ability. Maybe if he could see you, hear you, feel your presence close to him, he might fight his way back?”

 

                          Scotia jumped up from the table in haste and youthful hope. “I would do that, I would go to him and beg of him to hear me, to see me!”

The two older ones turned to circle her and contain her brimming excitement. Their eyes were full of caution as Artorius spoke. “No, it is not as simple or as that Scotia. If it were that easy, they would have brought you to him immediately as soon as you returned. Your Grandmother is right. It is a dangerous act that could push him either way.”

                   Artorius sighed sadly and looked at both of the women before speaking again to Scotia. “Tis not you, child that is torturing his soul. It is your Mother’s death that has driven him over that edge. I believe that what your Grandmother is suggesting is more for your Mother to drive him back this way?” He looked at Soithin in question and she bowed her head in agreement.

Scotia looked at them both in confusion. “What do you mean? I do not understand…”

                       Scoithin took Scotia’s hands in hers as she explained. “What I am suggesting Scotia, is that you must go to him not as yourself, but as your Mother. She is the only one he might still cling to memories of somewhere in his soul. You must go to him as her and tell him in no uncertainty to return here to those who need him most.”

Scotia closed her eyes and clenched her fists, she drew in a deep breath and tried to calm her trembling nerves as she asked, “Like Reina did to Eric?”

The older adults looked at her warily and Scoithin replied softly. “What did you see out there?” She ran her hand down her grand daughter’s arm to sooth her fear. “It’s alright to tell us here of what you saw or what you felt.”

                           Scotia was young and still troubled by her own recent horrors. She also was as yet unsure and fearful of her abilities that had recently developed. Her Grandmother had tried to reassure her that the things she felt and the visions she was were normal for one such as she was, with the Vampyre blood that ran through her veins and the other ancient blood from her Grandmother as well. Scoithin called it prophecy, others called it second sight… She had inherited none of the other Vampyre traits as yet, and this gift of sight had just recently come upon her. She knew, though she told no one, exactly when it had begun.

                           When she had stood out there in the Courtyard, held captive by those Romans, unable to do anything but stare terrified at her Mother’s crumpled, beaten and bloody body laying on the ground. Gizella’s arms wrapped around her swollen stomach, holding the life within her tightly as she and the child took their last breaths together. During those last moments, Gizella looked over to her daughter and sent her a final thought. Scotia felt her Mothers arms around her, heard her voice in her mind hushing her cries and telling her to be strong for all of them. Scotia felt her Mother within her, felt her life leaving, the pain ebbing away. When Gizella pointed toward the open sea and the sky, Scotia looked up to see her Mother floating away with the infant brother she would never know in this life. She looked around in fright to see if the others were watching this too? No, no one was noticing, or watching the sea. The Roman men’s attentions were focused on their captives. She, along with her cousins, was dragged off away from the yard amidst the screams of those left behind.

                            From that moment on, Scotia carried some piece of her Mother with her and her dreams were often clouded with images that did not make sense. She thought it was because of the terrifying events taking place and tried to shut all of it out. None of the young women had spoken of their individual stories as there had been no time to recover or share it. Their immediate thoughts had been of Reina and then her death.

                         So, now Scotia stood with her Grandmother, and this Roman Vampyre soldier who they said was to be trusted… She could not bring herself to do that quite so easily and knew that her Father would never bring himself to do it even if he were to be saved from the Hell he was locked in now. But, still her Grandmother seemed to value this man’s word and his worth, and trust him? Both of them waited silently for her to speak.

                      She hesitated for a moment then remembered her Mother’s words along with Reina’s words to Eric, be strong for others are in more need now than I. Scotia spoke haltingly and whispered of the sight. “Did no one else see it? I saw Reina with her baby daughter, in the mist… she was pushing Eric back to us, telling him he must stay with us, that we have more need of him than her.” She looked at Scoithin and Artorius as they both sighed and held her close.

                   Artorius stroked her hair and his voice soothed her, “It is alright, Scotia, only a very few have the gifts to see such things or feel them.” He sighed and went on, “You must always remind yourself that is a gift, this ablility you have been blessed with, for often in your future, it will feel more like a curse than a gift.”

                   Scoithin held her grand daughter in her arms and added her own thoughts. “My dearest child, I believe you have more to tell us of this sight, and of your visions… but for now, we will sit by the fire and you will rest with me for a bit.”

                     Some time later as the three of them sat near the fire, Scotia shared the vision of her Mother’s leaving and of the feeling that Gizella was still within her guiding and protecting her. Scoithin and Artorius both nodded in some unspoken agreement. Scoithin spoke gently to Scotia. “Then I was right in feeling that Gizella is still with you somehow.” She picked up Scotia’s small hand and held it while she explained, “Your Mother is with you because she still has work to do here. She, and you are the only ones who can do this. You must clear your mind of everything else and let your Mother do what she needs to do to help your Father.” Scoithin looked at the girl thoughtfully and went on, “Your Mother needs to do the same as Reina did for Eric. Your Father will never rest or be at peace with himself or this world unless she can get through to him through you.”

                  Scotia sat on her stool near the fire, staring into the flames and nodded her understanding while whiping tears from her eyes. Artorius spoke then. “You must understand that this is still very dangerous for you and for your Father. If you do not think you can do this, we will not place you in that danger. I am still in doubt whether this will work, and I would not put your life at risk for this.” He frowned then stood and started pacing, “I am torn on this, Scoithin. Perhaps better to let him go on his way to join Gizella rather than attempt this?”

                       At that, Scotia jumped up from her stool knocking it over in her haste. Her face was not quite her own, it suddenly took on the lines and the appearance of some other older version of herself. She spoke clearly in a near hysterical, hurried voice, “NO! You must give him a chance, a choice! You must give me a chance to help him! He must stay here, there is work for him to do in his future and he must be here for Scotia!”

                        Scoithin and Artorius stared at the young girl in surprise but quickly composed themselves on realizing how strong Gizella’s presence was. As fast as she had appeared, she left and young Scotia was standing there shaking. She looked about to fall to the ground and murmured of how cold she was. Artorius picked her up and carried her to a bench before she could collapse and faint into a stupor. Scoithin motioned for him to pick her back up and bring her to the back sleeping room. He carefully set her upon the bed and she drifted into a deep sleep.

Scoithin covered her with heavy blankets and they stood there watching her while they whispered together. Scoithin spoke firmly, “There, You see, I was right. Even if Scotia is not strong enough yet for something of this nature, Gizella is strong enough for them both and she will not let any of us rest until she has had her chance to save Svein.”

                     Artorius rubbed his forehead in frustration, still frowning in some concern. “I must admit, you are probably right in this. And, I have never seen before quite such an appearance as this? That does not mean though that I am not still worried about the success of this and of Svein’s reaction. To jeopordize her life, and that of everyone else’s if it should go wrong and he become even more uncontrollable?” He shook his head, “We can not send her into this as she is now, look what this one momentary appearance has done to her? And, we can not send her down there on her own… We must be prepared for the worst event. If it should go wrong, if he should break loose we must be prepared to end it for him rather than risk her life. That is the only way that I will agree to any of this?”

                        Scoithin nodded her agreement. “We can wait a few days more and prepare her better for it. I will fetch the others to help with it. And, I will abide with your decisions on how best to keep her safe from harm should it go wrong. I am sure that Gizella will not allow for any harm to come to her daughter in this. If it should come to be that she can not get through to him, I believe she will take matters into her own hands and see to his end herself.”

                          Artorius frowned even deeper at this. “NO! We can not let it go to that end, for it would not be Gizella’s hand in his ending, but Scotia’s. Then the girl would have to live with the knowledge and the overwhelming feeling of guilt at being responsible for her Father’s death.”

                           A sudden realization of that fact washed over Scoithin and she bowed her head. “You are right, I had not thought of that. I can not allow my grand daughter to carry that pain with her through life. Do what you need to, to see that it should not come to that.” She looked down at the sleeping Scotia and stroked the girl’s hair, brushing it from her pale face.

                       She called for a maid to sit with Scotia, giving instructions to send for them as soon as she woke. Scoithin and Artorius left the room to make their preparations. At the doorway, he thought of something else. “Those others whom you call to help… are they who I think they are? They are not the Fairies or the Vampyres, are they?” He gave her an inquiring and somewhat skeptical look. “Do not bring more trouble down upon us than we already have, Scoithin.”

     

Artorius and Scoithin2

                    She drew herself up showing her most regal and royal nature that which she had been born with a sense of. “Do not question their ways, their loyalties, or their abilities. They are far more ancient than any of us and though they live in secracy, they will live on just as powerful or even more so than any of the rest of us. The Druids will help in this and will seek nothing in return for it.” with that, she turned her back to him and walked away.

From the Creator: Historical information!

Scota_&_Gaedel_Glas

If you just read today’s story update, you might be wondering about the Healer, Scoithin Reil? If you haven’t read it yet, go do so now! 

https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2014/07/19/eleanors-journal77-fear-fate-conscience-and-consequence/

 

The character of Scoithin is based on various legends involving a migration  of early Egyptians to Ireland and Scotland.  Scota, in Irish mythology, Scottish mythology, and psuedohistory, is the name given to two different mythological daughters of two different Egyptian Pharaohs to whom the Gaels traced their ancestry, allegedly explaining the name Scoti, applied by the Romans to Irish raiders, and later to the Irish invaders of Argyll and Caledonia which became known as Scotland. 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scota

 

Stone_of_scone_replica_170609 SconeAbbeySeal1

 

Early sources

Edward J. Cowan has traced the first appearance of Scota in literature to the 12th century.   Scota appears in the Irish chronicle Book of Leinster (containing a redaction of the Lebor Gabála Érenn).[However a recension found in an 11th-century manuscript of the Historia Brittonum contains an earlier reference to Scota.   The 12th-century sources state that Scota was the daughter of an Egyptian pharaoh, a contemporary of Moses, who married Geytholos (Goídel Glas) and became the eponymous founders of the Scots and Gaels after being exiled from Egypt.   The earliest Scottish sources claim Geytholos was “a certain king of the countries of Greece, Neolus, or Heolaus, by name”, while the Lebor Gabála Érenn Leinster redaction in contrast describes him as a Scythian. Other manuscripts of the Lebor Gabála Érenn contain a variant legend of Scota’s husband, not as Goídel Glas but instead Mil Espaine and connect him to ancient Iberia.
Another variant myth in the redactions of the Lebor Gabála Érenn state that there was another Scota who was the daughter of an Egyptian Pharaoh named Cingris, a name found only in Irish legend. She married Niul, son of Fenius Farsaid, a Babylonian who travelled to Scythia after the collapse of the Tower of Babel. Niul was a scholar of languages, and was invited by the pharaoh to Egypt and given Scota’s hand in marriage. They had a son, Goídel Glas, the eponymous ancestor of the Gaels, who created the Gaelic language by combining the best features of the 72 languages then in existence. See also Geoffrey Keating. Although these legends vary, they all agree that Scota was the eponymous founder of the Scots and that she also gave her name to Scotland.

Scota and the Stone of Scone

Baldred Bisset is first credited to have fused the Stone of Scone with the Scota foundation legends in his Processus (1301) putting forward an argument that it was Scotland and not Ireland which was the original Scoti homeland.

Bisset was keen to legitimise a Scottish (as opposed to English) accession to the throne after Alexander III of Scotland died in 1286. Alexander himself at his coronation in 1249 heard his royal genealogy recited back through 56 generations to Scota.   Bisset therefore attempted to legitimise a Scottish accession by making Scota significant, as having transported the Stone of Scone from Egypt during the exodus of Moses to Scotland. In 1296 the Stone itself was captured by Edward I and taken to Westminster Abbey. Robert the Bruce in 1323 used Bisset’s same legend connecting Scota to the stone in attempt to get the stone back to Scotland’s Scone Abbey.

So, that my fans, is how Scoithin Reil has ended up on the Isle of Skuy by way of some ancestor’s long journey to a new home!

 

 

 

 

Scoithin Reil, Elder woman and Healer of the Clan.

Scoithin Reil, Elder woman and Healer of the Clan.

 

Scotia of Svein, daughter of Svein and Gizella, grand daughter of Scoithin

Scotia of Svein, daughter of Svein and Gizella, grand daughter of Scoithin

 

Eleanor’s Journal77: Fear, Fate, Conscience and Consequence

previous post: https://timeslipsblog.wordpress.com/2014/07/16/eleanors-journal-bonds-of-trust-and-friendship-forged/

Fear, Fate, Conscience and Consequence

             Eric still had not moved nor uttered a sound but when Artorius touched his shoulder, he suddenly came back to life. He turned quickly, grabbed the other man’s arms and stared into his eyes with an unspoken yet knowing and urgent question. Artorius held him tightly and responded cautiously. “We will see if there is some chance of saving her once we get there. That is all I can offer for now.” Eric finally managed to make some voice through his fear. “Then we must hurry if there is even a slimmest chance.” He closed his eyes in attempt to hold back tears of blinding pain for thought of losing his wife.

Screenshot

              The two of them made a harrowing journey through the darkness of night and wildnerness. They spoke little, rested little, ate even less. There seemed to be no need for words between them. Eric was lost in thoughts and memories of his wife. He spent his waking hours pushing his horse on through the thickest of forests, streams and hilly landscapes, thinking of little else other than reaching Reina in time. He prayed to the Gods, the Goddesses, to any spirits or entities he could summon in his mind, asking for miracles, bargaining for the young woman’s life. His few hours of sleep were filled with Reina, from her childhood days of following him about tagging after him constantly… her tiny pixie like face ever smiling and giggling behind him. Then quite suddenly it seemed to him, she turned into some other creature entirely… she became a full woman, calm and serious but with some knowing smile that betrayed that seriousness when she would look his way with those eyes that could play tricks on anyone with their faint changes in color depending upon her mood. Her pale skin that glowed and never grew darker from the sun, never blemished or freckled…save a few sprinkles over her nose that remained of her childhood. Her hair that curled around her face, down her back in waves of a glossy russet, reminding him of the woods she came from. One day she had been an irritating little minx to him, and the next day, he was lost in the depths of her eyes, her soft smile and the waves of her untamed hair.

              She of course had known from her beginnings that one day, Eric should be hers. She had never doubted it even when he had waved her away and treated her like a pestering little sister. She had just smiled her little lopsided grin, stuck her tongue out at him, laughed and skipped away… then came back again and again, until that one day when she stuck her tongue out at him and let him capture it with his mouth, sealing their fate just as she had planned. He had captured her tongue, her smile, she had captured his heart all in front of her Father that day. Reina had planned that well, he thought, smiling sadly at the memory. Of course, her Father, having witnessed the action, went immediately to the Clan elders and demanded that Eric be mated with Reina. It was just a show of formality on everyone’s part… they all knew that Eric would mate with Reina even before Eric ever realized or had notions of that sort. Once it was set, Eric had no arguement or disagreement with it. In fact, he was glad of it, for he knew somewhere in his mind and heart that Reina was the right one, the one the Gods had set for him.   Reina… all that he could think of on that journey through Hell was of her, he tried to send his thoughts out to her, to will her to live to smile at him again.

          eric's horse bolts

                 Artorius knew that it was useless to try to deter Eric’s thoughts but had to make some feeble attempt at calming the man’s turbulent emotions. Eric’s wild fear and bursts of rage were affecting the horses and their travel. When Eric’s horse nearly threw him into a merky and muddy river bed, Artorius decided it was time to stop and rest for a bit. Eric slid from his horse and the animal bolted away in wild abandon, as far it seemed as possible from Eric and his mindless curses of frustration. Eric shouted for the horse and swore violently when the animal took off.

Eric and Artorius on their journey

             Artorius paid no to it, just shrugged and offered advice. “He will return when you both have calmed yourselves of each other. Leave him be. You have abused him and yourself enough for today.” He then turned his attention to starting a small fire for them to rest near. Motioning for Eric to sit, more of a command than a suggestion, he finally spoke. “You must cease this turbulence of your mind now. It will do no good, either to her or us. All we can do at this point is focus on getting to her in one piece. If you keep on like this, the horse will in all good sense refuse you and you will find yourself walking the rest of the journey… which, you might agree, would slow our progress considerably.” He passed a chunk of bread and a jug of blood wine over to Eric, who waved it away stating he was not hungry.

             Artorius forced it back to him. “I know well you have no appetite but you must still eat, drink and rest a bit… your body, your mind and your heart. You must prepare yourself for what ever fate the Gods will bring.”

              Eric shrugged and gave a heart wrenching dismal frown. “I can not bring myself to face those thoughts, I must carry through with the thought that we will find her alive and on some path to wellness… Else, I would give up now and let the horse fell me from a cliff.”

             Artorius nodded in understanding, and said little else save one comment. “Is that what she would want for you then? To join her in her untimely death. Is that what she believes in, that you should take the fates into your own hands and die along with her.”

A serious discussion

              Eric thought for a moment then responded. “Have I not done that already? Have you not done that, in saving me. Have you not taken the fates in your hands by intervening to save me when I should have died in that battle… Perhaps, that should have been our destiny, for me to die in that battle and for her to join me in this death.” He hung his head, holding it in his hands before the fire that burned down to the faintest glowing embers, much like embers of life burning out.

watching the fire

               Artorius sighed in some agreement. “Ahhh, do not think that I have not wondered now about that same thing. It weighs heavily on my heart right now. All I can reason is that I did the right thing then, gave you a chance to live. What I could not know, nor can any of us ever know, is what the consequences of our life altering decisions may be. We do what we feel we need to, what we feel is right and just at the time and then we must bear the brunt, the result of that decision throughout our life. We can not go back and change it, we must move forward no matter what. Yes, I did alter the fates of your life on that day, as you did in accepting it as well. All I can do now is pray that we should reach your wife in time, that I can offer her some hope of healing your souls throughout the future. I intervened where maybe I should not have… now, it is up to the Gods to decide the rest.”

              They both sat silently watching the embers fade to charred bits of ash, wondering if this what the future would hold for them. The embers died out and the men found a few hours of rest wrapped in their robes. After some rest, they set out once more with a silent determination to reach their destination at the quickest speed possible. Neither of them made mention of what they might find when they arrived there.

              It took them another three days of travel to reach the hills where they would find the deceptive rock formations that hid the entrance to the Fairie lands. The rock circle was within a glen deep in the forest of those hills. If one did not know where to look, or what to look for, they would search in vain forever. Then, even if they had some knowledge of what to search for, if they did not know how to enter, they would never gain access to that other place well guarded and hidden within the strange mists that surrounded the circle of stones. Eric knew all of what was required for admittance to the territory but hesitated at first, only because he feared what he would find in that sanctuary. They were so close now, and his fear deepened to his soul… something, someone was telling him, warning him of heartache ahead. He could feel it within him, could feel now that Reina was still with him but slipping away.

Screenshot-3

Artorius must have felt it too. He stopped and stared ahead at the entrance, shaking as if to rid himself of some unseen force touching him. He reached back for Eric and they both stood for a moment, trying to calm themselves before facing what ever was waiting for them.

              The wooded space they walked through the stones into was not quite a village, but consisted of a group of cottages built close together to form a circle around a clearing which served as a common area for the group that lived there. One large stone cottage stood at the other side of the entrance with four smaller ones on each side of it. It had once been more than comfortable for the small group of Fairies who called it home, but now was over flowing with those who had sought sanctuary in the space. There were a large number of people sitting and standing quietly around the cottages… far too quietly, Artorius thought. They were a ragged, worn group whose eyes still showed the fear of recent events. As Artorius walked past them, he could feel their frayed nerves on edge at the sight of him in his Roman attire. He tried to set minds at ease with his thoughts, reminding the Vampyres there that he was of their kind and his allegiance was to them.

              An old one, the wise woman, the healer, stepped out of the big cottage and motioned them to come. Eric walked slowly, as if in a trance toward her. He looked around at the people, his people and saw the sorrow in their eyes as many reached out to give him some form of comfort in their touch. They were eerily silent, the women brushed away tears and the few men shook their heads and would not look him in the eye. He knew that something was very wrong here, more than just their general sadness over the losses to all…

             He entered the cottage to be surrounded by his sisters and his cousin. Eric lifted out his arms and they held to each other tightly, heads bowed for some moments. Their joy at being reunited was muted by the grief they felt.

a reunion of grief

meeting the healer

              Artorius kept himself to the door’s edge. He did not want to intrude or cause discomfort on this time, knowing that his presence would no doubt cause the young women more despair. As he waited there, the old one came close and stroked his arm. He looked down at her as she continued to stroke, not just his physical being, but his mind as well. She was a mixed bloodline of Fairie, Vampyre and some other blood that he could not quite place. She smiled softly, sending thoughts his way. “Ahhh, you are not familiar with my other bloodline, then..”

           He nodded and shared his confused thoughts with her as he looked at her closely trying to discern her other origins. She was an elder, but held her age well with a royal sort of grace. Her hair was a shiny, deep black with only a streak of silver running through it, swept back into an intricate braided rope around her head. She was of a darker complexion than most he saw in this country and her face was thin and unlined from wrinkles. Her dress was a long flowing robe of a style he had seen else where some time ago. “I must admit, you seem familiar in some way. I have some feeling that your origins are a long distance from this Isle.”

Trying to place an origin

             She sighed as she watched the family group in front of them. “Yes, you could say that and you would well be right. I would say that I am as far away from my ancestral home as you are from yours.” She paused for a moment, watching the dark hair girl with some sadness. “That one there, she is my grand daughter. Daughter of Gizella and Svein.” A tear fell down the old woman’s cheek as she went on. “My name is Scoithin Riel. She is named for my ancestor who traveled here to make a new life for us. Her name is Scotia… I must thank you sir, for finding her. I thought she would be lost to me as well.”

Scotia of Svein

             Artorius bowed his head and squeezed the older woman’s hand while she wiped the tears away with her other hand. They stood back watching the group share their own tears. The woman spoke softly, “They have each other for now, it will aid in the pain to come ahead.”

            Artorius asked the question that needed to be answered. “But, she still lives, does she not? I can feel her presence hovering on the edge.” He looked at the woman, with her vampyre blood apparent. “Can we not save her?”

              Scoithin answered him in thought. “Are you of full blood? I am not of full blood and I feared that to try would cause her even more pain. You know it is difficult to turn one of Fairie blood, and as sick as she already was, I dared not attempt it.” Artorius nodded his head, he understood her concerns. She went on, “Besides that, she does not have the will… she does not want to go on.” She hugged herself and sighed sadly. “I told her what had happened with Eric, that he lived and would come for her… She told me she would hold on for him, to see him one last time but that she must go. She keeps saying she must go, she can not wait much longer.”

Artorius and Scoithin2