Something I wrote
Ok so I had this like vision thing last night... I wouldn't call it a dream because I wasn't quite asleep yet. I couldn't see faces so the names in the story that follow based on the vision are inserted for the sake of the story... If anyone can find meaning in it I'm open...
The Battle for Somerled
By: Veronica Serra
March 7, 2005
The air was thick with anticipation, foreboding handing low on the clouds’ kite strings. This day had been coming for generations, founded in the blood shed of the ages. There was no turning back, not now. One man would walk away, sword high in the air, the pride of victory daring to burst forth from his chest and the other would be carried off to his eternal rest upon the shoulders of his fellow warriors.
Aleck stood before his mirror, his skin already glistening with the sweat of building adrenaline. His deep green eyes looked back at his own in the glass. He knew there was no room for doubt, not now, yet in his mind there was plenty of doubt to be found. If this had been eight moon cycles ago these doubts would be no more a concern than a feather upon the gentle Scottish breezes. Deep within Aleck knew that something wasn’t going to right today, that he would not be able to fulfill a very important promise that he made that same eight days ago. Phionna, the mysterious and beautiful woman he’d met by the lake that same eight moon cycles past.
The misted hour drew nearer, time was growing short. It was now or never and never was not an option. Aleck dressed quickly, pulling on his white shirt and his brown, leather pants. Going over to his meager bed he sat and pulled on his thick, black boots. The final touch came next, the most important item, the sword that has been handed down to the first born male in his family for a time longer than any story could recall. The blood of countless Norsemen had been shed with this sword and this night, hopefully this sword would see the last of such blood spilled upon it.
With one last look into the mirror, Aleck made sure everything was in place. “May the gods be with me…” he whispered as he took his leave and began the journey to his destiny.
Within the forest glen, a feline like create paced. She knew already what was about to transpire just beyond her sacred forest home. A feline, just bigger than a panther but looking very similar to one, save the white and black spotted stripe that graced her back, waited, the silent and most times unseen guardian of the Scottish Highlands. Why had had she allowed herself to be seen by the warrior? How could she have allowed herself to get attached to him? If she hadn’t, the pains of the dread welling within her would not be burden she had to bare.
Something, there had to be something she could do. No, this scene had to play itself the way the fates had designed it. She could not interfere, but she couldn’t stand by and allow this vision to come to pass.
The sounds of numerous heavy footsteps drifted to her ears from just beyond the tree line. They were gathering, the hour was drawing near, time was running out. A decision had to be made and it had to be made now. The voices grew louder and louder from the hills. Her better judgment was telling her to stay where she is, but her heart was telling her to go to him, save him. Sounds of metal hitting metal drifted to her ears now. The battle had begun. Finally, her heart’s desire got the better of her and within a split second she was sprinting from the forest.
Aleck, followed by the heads of every Highland clan, stepped upon the grassy hill where the final fate of Scotland would be determined. The heads of about a hundred fiery red headed Norsemen approached as Aleck looked out over the large clearing. The time was here, there was no turning back now. The fate of Scotland had rested upon his shoulders in numerous battles before and he’d been successful in turning back the Norsemen, but this eve, as the sun began to hang all the lower in the sky, there was a sense of failure that he’d never felt before any battle previous.
His heart lay heavy within his chest as the marching army approached the waiting clansmen. Why had they all agreed that this was the only way to end the war that had lasted generations? One battle, the heads of both sides, face to face, to determine the victor of the entire war. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t do this.
The voices of heathen men grew louder, almost deafening, and finally he was face to face with the long bearded, scarred skinned Valmar, leader of the Norse armies. He was a large, brooding man, twice the girth of Aleck and almost as much taller. There was never a time when he felt such fear in his heart. He then felt a hand upon his shoulder. It was William, the man that had stood behind him every battle of his life, both on the battle field and off. He was the only one who knew about Phionna, but he didn’t know about the promise, the promise that he would return to her no matter what. One look at the man before him and Aleck knew there was no way that he was going to make good upon that promise.
“Be strong Aleck, not just for yourself or all of us behind you, but be strong for Phionna. If you ever want to have a happy life with the woman that I know your heart has longed for all of your life, be strong. We will win here today, no matter what the cost, take comfort in that.”
But Aleck couldn’t find comfort or strength in his closest friend’s words, not this time. He couldn’t fight, not here on this field of battle nor within his own heart. He had no choice now though. Unsheathing his sword, he prepared for the battle to begin. As he did, Valmar drew his as well and before either could think of anything else the sounds of clashing swords rang throughout the Highland hills.
The battle raged on, neither man able to gain an advantage over the other, the clansmen as well as the Norse voices rising over the clanging of the swords encouraging their leader to triumph. The doubt had shed itself from Aleck, his mind focused upon keeping in step with the massive man before him. He was not going to die here today, not if he could help it.
The sun had now begun to drift to sleep and the pure silver moon had begun its rein over the sky. Swords clashed violently giving no sign that an end to this fray was near. Then, as if by miracle, deafening silence fell over the clearing.
The panther like feline ran as fast as her legs would carry her, dodging tree limbs and brush at every turn. She didn’t have much time. The sounds of the gathered men and the battling swords had been echoing through her Highlands for too long already.
Her great paws fell upon the soft grass just as the silence fell over the land. The battle was over. Before she could stop it, a great roar erupted from deeper within her than even thought it could. Her heart knew already what had caused the silence.
At the ground shaking roar, every man’s head turned. The instant their eyes fell upon her, every man, both Norse and Scottish alike, dropped to one knee, heads bowed low. Though none had ever seen her, they all knew of the great guardian. To the Highland men she was their guardian; to the Norse she was the one that gave them safe passage over the lands of the world.
Slowly, she approached the circle, a clear path before her to the man that now lay dying upon the velvet Highland blanket. Aleck, just as she had seen it the last she had tasted his sweet kiss. A dagger plunged deep just off center of his heart showed the victor of this battle. Finally, she was upon him. The massive feline sat beside him, her sorrowful green eyes met his. In that moment, a soft glow surrounded her and the feline was no longer sitting there, but a beautiful woman, hair as black as midnight and skin the color of fresh crème, her form covered by a dress that matched her hair made of what looked to be the finest of silk. She slowly took the dagger from her beloved’s chest and set it aside. Then, careful not to make the pain greater, she brought Aleck’s head to rest in her lap. Her gentle hands brushed the sweat soaked strands of his long, chestnut hair from his face.
“Phionna…” he said weakly. As he did, she placed her delicate finger upon his lips quieting him.
At the uttering of her name, William could hardly believe what he was seeing. The woman that had caught his closest friend’s heart was the great guardian of the Highlands. This wasn’t possible. Though, even in his moment of doubt, a small glimmer of hope welled within in him, within all of Aleck’s men that witnessed this event. The guardian would heal him; she would save him from walking through the gates of Somerled.
That very thought was the same as the one coursing through Phionna’s mind as well. She made then to place her hand upon his wound, but as she did, a touch she knew well stopped her. Aleck had placed his hand upon hers and was now weakly shaking his head at her.
“No… this is… is my destiny…” he struggled to explain. “I can… can’t let you save me. The Norseman and I… we had… an agreement.”
Tears began to stream down Phionna’s face at his words. She couldn’t let this happen; she couldn’t allow him to die. Scotland wouldn’t be able to survive without him to protect it. She also knew that she couldn’t disobey his wishes either. Placing one final kiss upon his soft lips, she could feel his last breath escape his lungs. Aleck was gone, gone to the gates of Somerled and eternal rest.
As her last tear fell from her cheek upon his weathered face, Phionna rose. She looked directly at Valmar, a look of scorn in her eyes.
“Scotland will never be yours,” she said, her voice taking on a low growl. Then, that soft glow came over her once more and she became a cross between her feline form and her human. Her long black hair was now streaked with white, much like the stripe that graced her feline form’s back, her face was that of a feline and a coat of soft black fur covered her slender form, a texture that matched the dress she had been wearing only moments before.
Reaching down, she took Aleck into her massive paw-like hands and lifted his lifeless body from the ground. Taking one last look over her people, Scotland’s people, all with a tear in their own eyes, she took Aleck and sprinted off into the forest. Running like she never had before, she took him back to her place in the forest glen and placed him upon a massive stone. It was the stone of ceremony, the stone placed upon this most powerful nexus by the Lords of Somerled themselves.
Covering him with a thin veil of silken cloth, Phionna then placed her pawed hand over his wound. Looking down upon his face once more, she spoke, “Go to Somerled free. I knew the moment you made the promise to return to me that it was going to be one that even a man of honor such as yourself would not be able to keep. The Lords told me of this. Go to eternal rest free and we will be together soon, this is a promise I make to you.” She then kissed his forehead and turned looking back in the direction from which she had come. The sounds of battle could be heard once more. Though her need for vengeance was strong, the sounds of Aleck’s men fighting to over turn the agreement, fighting to keep these Highlands in the name of Scotland made her heart well with pride. She knew she needed to go to them now, fight with them, for Aleck.
Stealing one last look at her beloved, the soft glow surrounded her once more. The feline took off at full run back to the field. When she arrived, the scent of the murderous Valmar caught her nose immediately. Tarring through every Norseman that got in her way she was finally face to face with Aleck’s murderer.
Staring ominously into each other’s eyes, both sets of muscles tensed in anticipation. Valmar knew that this cat couldn’t be the icon that they had all believed her to be and was prepared to kill her. Phionna knew that he was prepared to do so, but she knew that he would fall in trying.
What seemed to be many silent moments passed in tension before both let out a loud roar of anger. Phionna leapt high, her teeth bared and ready to plunge into Valmar’s throat. Valmar lifted his sword, already caked with blood, ready to plunge it into her chest as she bore down upon him.
Phionna’s teeth found their mark and with one mighty tare of her jaw, the flesh of Valmar’s neck came free. This victory, Valmar’s death, was not without its price upon Phionna though. As she had landed upon him, his sword had too found its mark, lodging itself in the soft flesh of her underbelly. Instantly, Phionna knew the wound to be mortal, though it would take some time to claim her life.
Staggering away from her mark, she dropped his flesh upon the bloodstained ground beside him. Her eyes were beginning to glaze over but she could still see the men around her. The death of Valmar seemed to have taken the very will out of every Norseman on the field. In their momentary hesitation, the remaining Scotsmen took each Norseman’s life in turn. The day, the war, was over. Scotland belonged to the Sons of Somerled, just as it should and Phionna knew that it would remain so for the rest of its days. She took comfort in this, as her wound spilled forth her own blood upon this battlefield. Her time was growing short. With what strength she could muster, she let out a roar of victory then collapsed.
As the clansmen drew near to her to lift her from this field, to return her back to the forest, two figures emerged from the trees. They were forms much he same as the one that Phionna had taken when she had removed Aleck from this very field. These two were distinct animal forms though, one a true panther female and the other a leopard male. The pair moved through the crowd to Phionna. Upon reaching her, both dropped to their knees and placed their hands over her. The soft glow surrounded her once more. Every man upon that field thought these two had come to revive Phionna, but that was not their task this night. As the glow subsided, Phionna lay there in her human form, her wound would be found to be in the very same place as Aleck’s had been upon her chest.
Slowly lifting her, the two forms carried her in silence into the forest. A few men made to follow them, but the ones that understood stopped them. The ways of the forest guardians were not for the eyes of man. These ways brought the panther and the leopard back to the very stone that Aleck still lay upon. Taking the full weight of Phionna now, the panther held her while the leopard moved back the cloth that covered Aleck. Once that was completed, the panther placed Phionna beside Aleck, joining their hands together and replaced the silken cloth over the both of them. Both waited there beside the fallen lovers until the sun had risen high into the Scottish sky once more.
The first beam that came over the trees shown upon the stone, and the guardians let out a mighty roar. As they did the spirits of Aleck and Phionna were lifted to the skies upon that beam to the gates of Somerled.
Gates of perfect silver stood tall and welcoming as, hand in hand, Aleck and Phionna appeared before them. Aleck was dressed in his finest clothing, white shirt, long brown leather jacket, brown leather pants, and black boots. His long, chestnut hair tied neatly behind his head. Phionna stood in her long, silken, black dress, her feet covered in delicate black slippers. In her flowing, black hair there were ribbons of lavender and upon her crown a wreath of lavender flowers and ivy.
Together they stepped through the gates, together once more, just as Phionna had promised Aleck they would be. Together, they would finally find happiness in the rolling hills and gentle glades of Somerled.
The Battle for Somerled
By: Veronica Serra
March 7, 2005
The air was thick with anticipation, foreboding handing low on the clouds’ kite strings. This day had been coming for generations, founded in the blood shed of the ages. There was no turning back, not now. One man would walk away, sword high in the air, the pride of victory daring to burst forth from his chest and the other would be carried off to his eternal rest upon the shoulders of his fellow warriors.
Aleck stood before his mirror, his skin already glistening with the sweat of building adrenaline. His deep green eyes looked back at his own in the glass. He knew there was no room for doubt, not now, yet in his mind there was plenty of doubt to be found. If this had been eight moon cycles ago these doubts would be no more a concern than a feather upon the gentle Scottish breezes. Deep within Aleck knew that something wasn’t going to right today, that he would not be able to fulfill a very important promise that he made that same eight days ago. Phionna, the mysterious and beautiful woman he’d met by the lake that same eight moon cycles past.
The misted hour drew nearer, time was growing short. It was now or never and never was not an option. Aleck dressed quickly, pulling on his white shirt and his brown, leather pants. Going over to his meager bed he sat and pulled on his thick, black boots. The final touch came next, the most important item, the sword that has been handed down to the first born male in his family for a time longer than any story could recall. The blood of countless Norsemen had been shed with this sword and this night, hopefully this sword would see the last of such blood spilled upon it.
With one last look into the mirror, Aleck made sure everything was in place. “May the gods be with me…” he whispered as he took his leave and began the journey to his destiny.
Within the forest glen, a feline like create paced. She knew already what was about to transpire just beyond her sacred forest home. A feline, just bigger than a panther but looking very similar to one, save the white and black spotted stripe that graced her back, waited, the silent and most times unseen guardian of the Scottish Highlands. Why had had she allowed herself to be seen by the warrior? How could she have allowed herself to get attached to him? If she hadn’t, the pains of the dread welling within her would not be burden she had to bare.
Something, there had to be something she could do. No, this scene had to play itself the way the fates had designed it. She could not interfere, but she couldn’t stand by and allow this vision to come to pass.
The sounds of numerous heavy footsteps drifted to her ears from just beyond the tree line. They were gathering, the hour was drawing near, time was running out. A decision had to be made and it had to be made now. The voices grew louder and louder from the hills. Her better judgment was telling her to stay where she is, but her heart was telling her to go to him, save him. Sounds of metal hitting metal drifted to her ears now. The battle had begun. Finally, her heart’s desire got the better of her and within a split second she was sprinting from the forest.
Aleck, followed by the heads of every Highland clan, stepped upon the grassy hill where the final fate of Scotland would be determined. The heads of about a hundred fiery red headed Norsemen approached as Aleck looked out over the large clearing. The time was here, there was no turning back now. The fate of Scotland had rested upon his shoulders in numerous battles before and he’d been successful in turning back the Norsemen, but this eve, as the sun began to hang all the lower in the sky, there was a sense of failure that he’d never felt before any battle previous.
His heart lay heavy within his chest as the marching army approached the waiting clansmen. Why had they all agreed that this was the only way to end the war that had lasted generations? One battle, the heads of both sides, face to face, to determine the victor of the entire war. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t do this.
The voices of heathen men grew louder, almost deafening, and finally he was face to face with the long bearded, scarred skinned Valmar, leader of the Norse armies. He was a large, brooding man, twice the girth of Aleck and almost as much taller. There was never a time when he felt such fear in his heart. He then felt a hand upon his shoulder. It was William, the man that had stood behind him every battle of his life, both on the battle field and off. He was the only one who knew about Phionna, but he didn’t know about the promise, the promise that he would return to her no matter what. One look at the man before him and Aleck knew there was no way that he was going to make good upon that promise.
“Be strong Aleck, not just for yourself or all of us behind you, but be strong for Phionna. If you ever want to have a happy life with the woman that I know your heart has longed for all of your life, be strong. We will win here today, no matter what the cost, take comfort in that.”
But Aleck couldn’t find comfort or strength in his closest friend’s words, not this time. He couldn’t fight, not here on this field of battle nor within his own heart. He had no choice now though. Unsheathing his sword, he prepared for the battle to begin. As he did, Valmar drew his as well and before either could think of anything else the sounds of clashing swords rang throughout the Highland hills.
The battle raged on, neither man able to gain an advantage over the other, the clansmen as well as the Norse voices rising over the clanging of the swords encouraging their leader to triumph. The doubt had shed itself from Aleck, his mind focused upon keeping in step with the massive man before him. He was not going to die here today, not if he could help it.
The sun had now begun to drift to sleep and the pure silver moon had begun its rein over the sky. Swords clashed violently giving no sign that an end to this fray was near. Then, as if by miracle, deafening silence fell over the clearing.
The panther like feline ran as fast as her legs would carry her, dodging tree limbs and brush at every turn. She didn’t have much time. The sounds of the gathered men and the battling swords had been echoing through her Highlands for too long already.
Her great paws fell upon the soft grass just as the silence fell over the land. The battle was over. Before she could stop it, a great roar erupted from deeper within her than even thought it could. Her heart knew already what had caused the silence.
At the ground shaking roar, every man’s head turned. The instant their eyes fell upon her, every man, both Norse and Scottish alike, dropped to one knee, heads bowed low. Though none had ever seen her, they all knew of the great guardian. To the Highland men she was their guardian; to the Norse she was the one that gave them safe passage over the lands of the world.
Slowly, she approached the circle, a clear path before her to the man that now lay dying upon the velvet Highland blanket. Aleck, just as she had seen it the last she had tasted his sweet kiss. A dagger plunged deep just off center of his heart showed the victor of this battle. Finally, she was upon him. The massive feline sat beside him, her sorrowful green eyes met his. In that moment, a soft glow surrounded her and the feline was no longer sitting there, but a beautiful woman, hair as black as midnight and skin the color of fresh crème, her form covered by a dress that matched her hair made of what looked to be the finest of silk. She slowly took the dagger from her beloved’s chest and set it aside. Then, careful not to make the pain greater, she brought Aleck’s head to rest in her lap. Her gentle hands brushed the sweat soaked strands of his long, chestnut hair from his face.
“Phionna…” he said weakly. As he did, she placed her delicate finger upon his lips quieting him.
At the uttering of her name, William could hardly believe what he was seeing. The woman that had caught his closest friend’s heart was the great guardian of the Highlands. This wasn’t possible. Though, even in his moment of doubt, a small glimmer of hope welled within in him, within all of Aleck’s men that witnessed this event. The guardian would heal him; she would save him from walking through the gates of Somerled.
That very thought was the same as the one coursing through Phionna’s mind as well. She made then to place her hand upon his wound, but as she did, a touch she knew well stopped her. Aleck had placed his hand upon hers and was now weakly shaking his head at her.
“No… this is… is my destiny…” he struggled to explain. “I can… can’t let you save me. The Norseman and I… we had… an agreement.”
Tears began to stream down Phionna’s face at his words. She couldn’t let this happen; she couldn’t allow him to die. Scotland wouldn’t be able to survive without him to protect it. She also knew that she couldn’t disobey his wishes either. Placing one final kiss upon his soft lips, she could feel his last breath escape his lungs. Aleck was gone, gone to the gates of Somerled and eternal rest.
As her last tear fell from her cheek upon his weathered face, Phionna rose. She looked directly at Valmar, a look of scorn in her eyes.
“Scotland will never be yours,” she said, her voice taking on a low growl. Then, that soft glow came over her once more and she became a cross between her feline form and her human. Her long black hair was now streaked with white, much like the stripe that graced her feline form’s back, her face was that of a feline and a coat of soft black fur covered her slender form, a texture that matched the dress she had been wearing only moments before.
Reaching down, she took Aleck into her massive paw-like hands and lifted his lifeless body from the ground. Taking one last look over her people, Scotland’s people, all with a tear in their own eyes, she took Aleck and sprinted off into the forest. Running like she never had before, she took him back to her place in the forest glen and placed him upon a massive stone. It was the stone of ceremony, the stone placed upon this most powerful nexus by the Lords of Somerled themselves.
Covering him with a thin veil of silken cloth, Phionna then placed her pawed hand over his wound. Looking down upon his face once more, she spoke, “Go to Somerled free. I knew the moment you made the promise to return to me that it was going to be one that even a man of honor such as yourself would not be able to keep. The Lords told me of this. Go to eternal rest free and we will be together soon, this is a promise I make to you.” She then kissed his forehead and turned looking back in the direction from which she had come. The sounds of battle could be heard once more. Though her need for vengeance was strong, the sounds of Aleck’s men fighting to over turn the agreement, fighting to keep these Highlands in the name of Scotland made her heart well with pride. She knew she needed to go to them now, fight with them, for Aleck.
Stealing one last look at her beloved, the soft glow surrounded her once more. The feline took off at full run back to the field. When she arrived, the scent of the murderous Valmar caught her nose immediately. Tarring through every Norseman that got in her way she was finally face to face with Aleck’s murderer.
Staring ominously into each other’s eyes, both sets of muscles tensed in anticipation. Valmar knew that this cat couldn’t be the icon that they had all believed her to be and was prepared to kill her. Phionna knew that he was prepared to do so, but she knew that he would fall in trying.
What seemed to be many silent moments passed in tension before both let out a loud roar of anger. Phionna leapt high, her teeth bared and ready to plunge into Valmar’s throat. Valmar lifted his sword, already caked with blood, ready to plunge it into her chest as she bore down upon him.
Phionna’s teeth found their mark and with one mighty tare of her jaw, the flesh of Valmar’s neck came free. This victory, Valmar’s death, was not without its price upon Phionna though. As she had landed upon him, his sword had too found its mark, lodging itself in the soft flesh of her underbelly. Instantly, Phionna knew the wound to be mortal, though it would take some time to claim her life.
Staggering away from her mark, she dropped his flesh upon the bloodstained ground beside him. Her eyes were beginning to glaze over but she could still see the men around her. The death of Valmar seemed to have taken the very will out of every Norseman on the field. In their momentary hesitation, the remaining Scotsmen took each Norseman’s life in turn. The day, the war, was over. Scotland belonged to the Sons of Somerled, just as it should and Phionna knew that it would remain so for the rest of its days. She took comfort in this, as her wound spilled forth her own blood upon this battlefield. Her time was growing short. With what strength she could muster, she let out a roar of victory then collapsed.
As the clansmen drew near to her to lift her from this field, to return her back to the forest, two figures emerged from the trees. They were forms much he same as the one that Phionna had taken when she had removed Aleck from this very field. These two were distinct animal forms though, one a true panther female and the other a leopard male. The pair moved through the crowd to Phionna. Upon reaching her, both dropped to their knees and placed their hands over her. The soft glow surrounded her once more. Every man upon that field thought these two had come to revive Phionna, but that was not their task this night. As the glow subsided, Phionna lay there in her human form, her wound would be found to be in the very same place as Aleck’s had been upon her chest.
Slowly lifting her, the two forms carried her in silence into the forest. A few men made to follow them, but the ones that understood stopped them. The ways of the forest guardians were not for the eyes of man. These ways brought the panther and the leopard back to the very stone that Aleck still lay upon. Taking the full weight of Phionna now, the panther held her while the leopard moved back the cloth that covered Aleck. Once that was completed, the panther placed Phionna beside Aleck, joining their hands together and replaced the silken cloth over the both of them. Both waited there beside the fallen lovers until the sun had risen high into the Scottish sky once more.
The first beam that came over the trees shown upon the stone, and the guardians let out a mighty roar. As they did the spirits of Aleck and Phionna were lifted to the skies upon that beam to the gates of Somerled.
Gates of perfect silver stood tall and welcoming as, hand in hand, Aleck and Phionna appeared before them. Aleck was dressed in his finest clothing, white shirt, long brown leather jacket, brown leather pants, and black boots. His long, chestnut hair tied neatly behind his head. Phionna stood in her long, silken, black dress, her feet covered in delicate black slippers. In her flowing, black hair there were ribbons of lavender and upon her crown a wreath of lavender flowers and ivy.
Together they stepped through the gates, together once more, just as Phionna had promised Aleck they would be. Together, they would finally find happiness in the rolling hills and gentle glades of Somerled.