Post by tmacconn56 on Jul 25, 2020 0:11:20 GMT -5
...From the dream of a dream,
Thence to wake with a start,
Something slips in between,
That no dream can impart...
Was it dreamed that I stood at a mountain's top,
Looking down on the world of Morrig's Plain?
Were the people I saw the ones God sought to stop,
And the ones over whom I was given to reign?
They looked rather lean, a gangly lot,
All of them tall but so spare of frame.
I sighted a figure aside who seemed squat,
Watching the Morrig and pacing their game.
They were going about the practice of war,
With deadly calm and accuracy;
Ten thousand warriors, no less, no more...
Would they truly fight for me?
...Fight for Me...FIGHT FOR ME?
Oh, Gods, I was dreaming again!
I shouted in shock to what powers there be,
As I gained recollection of dawn at Crom's Glenn.
I could see all too clearly then Crom's vengeful scheme,
And my own part intended within His plan.
With horror mounting I recounted the dream,
Of a spiral passage and my death as a man.
Thunder rolled over me from a leaden sky,
To outshout my anguished plea,
And I knew when it paused the same second as I,
That this was my voice, echoed back at me...
For within My veins flowed Ice and Fire.
Elemental forces were Mine to command.
Nothing could pierce this God's flesh I'd acquired;
Nothing human could hope to hold back My Hand.
Throughout this daunting rumination,
It seems I'd failed to see,
That My cry had caught the Morrig's attention.
Twenty thousand eyes aimed unerringly at Me.
It was silence that bid Me lift My head,
To scan this deadly, bitter crowd,
Resentment now burned where dark humour had fled.
For I heard their thoughts, quite clear and loud.
(Is it CROM?) (Truly CROM?) (...The Accursed One?)
(Has the Time of Appeasement come round again?)
(I will not break...) (...not turn and run..)
(Da, make Him leave our world. You can...)
That last thought, a child's, too young to know,
What CROM wrought when appearing from time to time.
I found CROM's antics in her father's mind though-
Soulless corpses seared, dancing Death's pantomime.
That stouter person I'd seen before,
Was now capering, dancing up the mountain's face.
He was moving slow enough that I called to him "More."
He giggled quite madly as flight quickened his pace.
I halted this fellow's ride abruptly,
Before Me, feet jigging in midair,
When a sweet voice came softly, (His name is Orly,
And he's CROM's watchdog so have a care.)
I sensed vision doubling behind My eyes,
As that soft voice addressed Me again,
(Let Us kill this demon ere his disgusting cries,
Call forth Lord CROM to feed upon men.)
It was Megan's contralto I hearkened to,
My mind lurched maddeningly!
From CROM's world where the spiral gate pulled Me through,
Megan's soul must have travelled within me!
I searched within Myself for the source,
Of Her memories, spread 'cross My mind,
Laid magic hands upon this silken force,
And pulled it forth to find...
Megan's soul which shimmered brightly,
I know not how I dressed Her anew,
With immortal flesh I dressed Megan rightly,
And gave new life to a Goddess True!
She stood in moonglow radiance,
Fully decked in a sheath of light,
With hair of rose gold ambiance,
And eyes, sea-green, so pale yet bright.
"There is something missing still." I said,
Hummed a song of conjuring,
Megan's laugh made rainbows so I took the light bled,
and shaped a bright blade for the Goddess Colleen.
Her movement was music which had Me entranced,
As she nimbly took up the sword and danced,
Around Me to Orly, who scarce had the chance,
To cry out before being, by My Ancestress, lanced.
She hewed him in quarters and tossed the pieces down,
To the base of the mountain, the edge of the plain,
Drew then lightning to strike at a small patch of ground,
Burned to ash what was left of Orly's remains.
Megan spun about with sword held high,
"Now You'll see what the Morrig can be,
With CROM's demon dispatched, they'll sweep the sky,
For this one chance to finally be free!"
Of cryptic remarks I had had quite enough,
From Ronan, then CROM and now, Megan,
These whirlwind dreams were getting bloodier, too rough,
For the likes of this poor mortal man.
Those other three dreams played before this one,
Had at least entertained me, in a way,
But I felt too awake now, too real to have fun,
Wanted dearly to return to yesterday.
A hissing arose from the Morrig's direction,
We both turned quickly to see,
If Crom had caught Orly's impromptu dissection,
Or was answering his sword-shortened plea.
It was the Morrig making this fearsome noise,
By thrusting their shields into sand edge wide,
Then leaping upon the rims of their toys,
Rocked the razor edge side to side.
An impressive feat, I had to say,
Using ten thousand shields for football punts,
But the fact still remained that my terror held sway,
I want out of this nightmare at once!
Creating a sword was easy enough,
With the powers I dreamed I possessed,
But deposing Earth's God sounded more than just tough,
What would it hurt to give my psychosis a rest?
"They are saluting Us for Orly's demise,"
Whispered Megan, at my side,
"So stand up straight, put steel in Your eyes,
Help the Morrig regain their pride."
I looked at Megan in disbelief,
"Dear Lady, I am not what I seem,
As I'm scared to death of dealing God any grief,
For what He'll do to me if this isn't a dream!
And then there's CROM, I simply can't understand,
All that talk of His 'Fierce Keltic Warrior.'
I was a normal man whose career had been planned,
All I'd craved was to be a paid writer!"
Megan looked to the host who now milled about,
Reached down and took My hand,
Chanted a spell, turned Us inside out,
Delivered Us to a new dreamland.
A small, white sun hung in this sky,
And the air smelled of lilacs in season.
Megan let go My hand and sat down with a sigh,
Gathering up Her thoughts to reason.
In this pristine, faerie book setting,
Megan lowered Her sword to the ground,
Said, "You deserve more answers than you've been getting,
And We've pushed you terribly around.
Firstly, Theo, You are a warrior,
You've just never been given opportunity,
And that 'Spirit' felt by CROM, The Cur,
Was simply You while harboring Me.
When CROM shared with YOU His Godhood,
His power ran as well into Me.
He's probably reeling still and should,
Since We're now somewhat stronger than He.
My father it was, who'd reasoned this out.
For he's had eight hundred years to think.
Crom's goal of a champion could scarce come about,
If We allied ourselves to that crucial link.
You were the descendent We needed to win,
So Da killed off the other bloodline,
As that sot had already gone over to sin,
And would've called CROM to Earth's table to dine.
We watched over You as You grew to a man,
So I know of Your love for Irish lore.
Simplicity itself is Mine and Da's plan,
And I promise You'll live to write a bit more.
You'll be taking Our new gained Keltic band,
With Yourself to confront Our Lord.
There's a smaller task that requires My hand,
Before I join You and the Horde.
I've in mind to slip back in time a fair piece,
To visit, as a Goddess with My killers again,
You know of My life and death, at least,
But a wee bit's omitted there near the end.
Now...here's where My tale gets complicated,
So please try to stay and follow with Me.
You'll love this once it's been related,
As it deals with Keltic mythology.
In the days of My youth, far from here and now,
Christianity had already taken hold,
But as a warrior, following code and vow,
I also loved tales of the old battles told.
There were four distinct waves of wanderers,
That took possession of Eire, having gained Her shore,
The Milesians, the Danaan, the Firbolg and Fomor,
Our druids could likely count one or two more.
The race that cherished Eire the most,
Are the Danaans, by the way.
They're the parents of Our Morrig host,
And You'll meet a few today.
I know My words do ramble about,
But it will all make sense, You'll see.
Please remove from Your face that impatient pout,
As I tell You of the Danaan, or Sidhe…
I'd always loved sagas recounting the Sidhe,
(That's 'SHEE' to you and Me.)
Whose greatest heroes were fierce and free,
Living lives epitomized by bravery.
When training, I called upon their Champion, the Dagda,
By name to watch over My every fight,
For he'd watched as well over Lugh Lamfada,
And when calling I'd swear that My sword grew light.
With his name on My lips I was ready to die,
As some of My comrades claimed to be too,
But they couldn't believe in him quite as I,
Did then, Who now believes in You.
Well, the Dagda did indeed hear Me,
When called from My very first time.
He'd ignored being called through the cacophony,
Of stories told and rhyme.
He had sensed within Me the Warrior True,
That same warrior, Theo, I sense in You,
The Dagda sent a dream that whatever I do,
He would lend Me aid if I needed him to.
I needed him sorely on that night,
When attacked by those seven men,
But he came too late in that ill-fated fight,
Which resolved itself two days gone at CROM's Glenn.
The ass that dealt Me the mortal blow,
Was the one that stole My cloak.
But when I slew two and fought harder though,
The other five ran and left Me to croak.
The Dagda had left his faerie liss,
With an axe and sped to My side,
But when he'd ascertained what had gone amiss,
He sat himself down and cried...
"I've lived too long in a Sidhe mound,
Where the barriers grow with age.
By the time I had broken through the ground,
Were you turning your final page.
I swore an oath to watch over you,
And I've let you down shamefully, child.
Shall I run down that pack to collect your due?
You'll sleep warm with their skins on your burial cairn piled.
I was longing, keening for one hour more,
Time enough to reach My da's home,
But I knew Death would take Me still far from his door,
As My soul started stretching to roam.
The Dagda heard My aching need,
Leaned close to touch My breast,
Gave strength to limbs which had ceased to bleed,
And will to the heart stilling in My chest.
That last mortal walk was sheer agony,
And slow beyond belief.
Instead of wonder for the Dagda beside me,
I thought of My poor da's grief.
He'd lost My mother in a similar way,
Three full moons from the day I drew breath.
Da would find Me this morning, minded of Maeve on that day,
How he'd missed finding the bastards who'd cut her door into death.
The Dagda left not a footprint,
But Mine were enough to track.
Da would find this trail and kill the squint,
That did Me while snatching the cloak from My back.
When finally arrived, the Dagda let go,
Of the hand held through our walk.
Where fallen that hand, mostly dead, still moved though,
To scrawl in mud what Da should stalk.
The Dagda snatched My soul up,
As it burst then free to roam,
Said, "It's on Manannan's pigs we'd sup,
If you'd care to grace my home."
Freed of life I lost care, felt insubstantial,
But the Dagda shook his head,
"If your thoughts to me are consequential,
Then you can't be truly dead!"
(Go on!) thought I to this wonderful man,
(Let's on to your faerie liss,
Oh, I wish I'd a body for offering,
Or at least lips to give you a kiss!)
The Dagda was taken aback at this,
But then roared with great delight.
I trailed some humorous thoughts of his,
As that mighty frame took flight.
Across the land he raced with Me,
Just one lost soul in tow,
And though I'd died so recently,
It seemed an age ago.
I thought of spirals suddenly,
Of doorways cut through time.
Of whimsical Gods, an anguished plea,
And an ancient Druid's rhyme...
"Death dies and taking Life in hand,
The Dead God's mantle must be torn,
Give back to Life a Godling man.
To right Earth's balance, born.
When the First Dawn kills the Last Night,
As Dark God on Man will feast,
He, out of darkness comes to fight,
Theo, to kill the Beast."
"A druid named Ariel sang this tattle,
Over two thousand years ago.
It's the 'Song of Death' for Gods who battle,
With the Man-God, born for war."
A haunting chill ran up My spine,
At this mention of My name,
From three thousand years removed in time,
Had this Ariel heaped Me with fame!
"I asked the Dagda what was meant,
By these images in My mind."
"It means your da is truly Hell bent,
Since your body did he find.
Your sire is changing reality,
As he drags up the past again.
Ronan's also lost part of his sanity,
As he hunts down the other five men."
(Oh, Gods!) thought I, (Why couldn't I see,
What My scribbled word must have done?
By peeling back the scab on his memory,
Must the old and fresh wound run!)
"You mustn't worry 'bout what's been done,
And in fact, you can't, for a while.
We've arrived at my home and I for one,
Intend to distract you with style."
A small, rounded hill we stood before,
Till a crack opened on its side.
Lovely music filled out from his widening door,
As the Dagda brought Me in to abide.
"You've no idea what's within my Sidhe mound."
Said the Dagda...AT MY SIDE?
I was standing and breathing in a body more sound,
Than the one in which I'd died!
"All spirits are granted a form in my home.
I recall you wanted some thing...
Do you know that your eyes look just like sea foam?
Ah, yes, it was a body you wanted...for offering."
Megan's voice had lulled Me so,
That I couldn't quite feel just then,
The trepidation I known but an hour ago.
Megan took up Her tale once again.
A long, long time I dwelled within,
The Dagda's faerie mound.
He'd a spell that spread joy where My grief might have been,
So I failed to heed the seasons going round.
My father searched every conceivable Hell,
For the daughter that he had lost.
With CROM's blood in his veins his body fared well,
But his mind paid a terrible cost.
Knowing such doubt as years passed in and out,
Searching through all the worlds of Man,
Ranged Ronan, casting ever about,
Forever praying to find Me again.
I suppose it became inevitable,
That My father should find Me then,
Sitting down to board at the Dagda's table,
As I'd done since who knew when.
"Megan of Ronan, have you any tears,
For the sire returned to your side?
I have searched for you nearly three hundred years,
And not once have my own eyes dried!"
As My father embraced Me, out poured all the grief,
Pain and shame held at bay for so long.
My poor da set to trembling with joy and relief,
Then sobered to speak of a monstrous wrong.
He told Myself and the Dagda,
Of his unwholesome pact with CROM,
Of his hopes for Your own dream saga,
To counter what was fated to come.
The Dagda asked to have a part,
Of this upcoming battle of Man,
Since CROM's sway over the Milesians was at the heart,
Of his Danaans' self banishment beneath their own land.
"I'll round up my tribes, raise the Danaan Host,
To join that of your Champion to come.
We'll combine our forces to gain the most,
Advantage when dealing with CROM!"
The Dagda warmed to the task at hand,
As he and Da schemed merrily away.
Those two fearsome warriors soon had it all planned,
But things have changed quite a bit since that day.
It is I who have cared for You the most,
And I, who since did plan,
To be at Your side as You call on the Host,
For I love the Champion of Man!
I conspired to become a Goddess,
So that only I may serve,
Your every hearts desire lest,
You get less than You deserve.
I have watched through all Your mortal life
And Your dreams I know intimately.
You've had Your share of frustration and strife,
Can You say You'd go back to it willingly?"
I sought for a moment for reasoned thought,
But where was reason in all that I'd gained?
This Goddess' love and a fine Keltic plot
So what reason for reason remained?
The words I spoke then had always been there,
From that dream when I'd first seen Her face,
On Her Father's stoop in deathly pallor,
Was Her beauty so great that death couldn't erase.
"Lady, I'd have this dream run on until,
All the stars must weaken and fall.
For the honor of Your hand in Mine I will,
Challenge any Gods, one or ALL!
You are the source of My wildest imaginings,
The wellspring of all I desire.
I am the bell that Your touch or breath doth ring,
Your mere glance bids My spirit soar higher."
Megan took My hand in Hers,
And then rocked My soul anew,
By repeating My words, both line and verse,
While a maelstrom about Us grew.
Spinning Strips of energy formed,
Like ribbons of mobius light,
Between Us, within Us, around Us, formed,
By the fire of Our love, burning stellar bright.
We were forging a single soul from two,
That no power in the cosmos might part.
As the Champion of Man and His Goddess True,
We found love that would burst any lesser heart.
Completion then let the whirlwind storm,
Loose its hold, softly drift away.
Wisps of gossamer steel became smoke, lost their form,
Till only at mist did a fresher wind play.
The bond We'd made fused perfectly,
As We spoke now mind to mind,
(Within Your eyes, Myself, I see...)
(Tell Me, Megan what You find.)
(That girl I see is much too fair,
To be, at all the likes of Me.
I remember having frizzier hair,
And this body never used to be.)
(Not once did I improve the least,
On Your frame for You are perfection,
And I just heard You call Me a beast.
Prepare to be tickled, oh Goddess Confection!)
Our interlude was brief but sweet,
With such promise of raptures to come,
But We'd still the Danaan with which to meet,
And a complete hosting yet to be done.
We spoke volumes with looks and the clasping of hands,
Cawed to by rooks as We walked through this land.
The mightiest oaks spread their leaves to us, fanned,
By the force of Our passage to what destiny planned.
Outward from the forest We came,
To see in a clearing made wide,
The Danaan Host of Irish fame,
And of which Megan shouted with pride.
"The Children of Danu await You, Lord.
See Your name upon their streamers,
Tied to their spears with hair woven cord,
Like those of Your Keltic Dreamers!"
Her words were pitched for Danaan ears,
While I heard within, in kind,
(If You'll take the time to impress these dears,
Their hearts will to Us bind.)
(What limits exist to what I may do?)
I sent Megan My own thought aside.
(Whatever's envisioned is possible for You.)
Replied My lovely eldritch bride.
(Then I know exactly what I'll have done.
Please lend Me Your hand, My dear.
I feel need of moral support for this one,
I intend to call up Your Druid seer.),
I sketched in air that ancient door,
A spiral of golden light,
Then looked within this passage for,
A link to Ariel's Druid sight.
I beheld a storm tossed sea,
Composed of crimson light,
And a boy, serene, staring up at Me,
Through the spiral burning bright.
His thoughts were ripples spreading out.
(While awash in the Druid's Sea,
Time's currents sent to me a shout.
Is it Theo who summons me?)
I placed the thought within his mind,
Of what I intended to do,
And receiving his answer was pleased to find,
That he eagerly wanted this too.
A whirlpool spun beneath the lad,
When he was touched by the spiral gate,
Compelled to Me across time gone mad,
Up a corridor charged with fate.
Out rushed tides of the Druid's sea,
Preceding Ariel's flight.
The spiral glowed red and shook violently,
Till the boy was swept into the light...
Of the small white sun hanging in Our sky.
Those mystic waters retreated from sight,
Back down the spiral with multitudinous sigh,
While Ariel remained, smiling bright.
He looked like Megan amazingly,
And more than a bit like Me.
With a portion of Ronan!) did Megan agree,
As We studied him curiously.
A lone figure approached from the Danaan Host,
A mythic giant of a man,
Who, instead of the spears being held by most,
Of his tribes, gripped an axe in his hand.
"This warrior must be the Dagda,
Or else I've missed My guess.
The Champion who watched over Lugh Lamfada,
What defeated the Fomor and Bres!"
A great smile split his angular face,
At My heaping of his fame.
"It seems you've heard of me, Good Sir,
For I am that very same!"
A loud shout of joy sprang from Ariel,
Who stepped close to meet this man,
Said, "Dagda, I am honored to meet you as well,
Since I am descended from Morrigan!"
The Morrigan...Of course; how could I forget,
The Gaunt Battle-Raven of War.
She'd been the wife of the Dagda, whose get,
Were the Morrig...and Ariel Mor.
"This union is momentous indeed,"
Spoke Megan, sounding snide.
"We represent four ages of a powerful breed;
A warrior bloodline steeped with pride."
"Just so..." said Ariel, looking that proud,
"This God and Goddess are descended from me.
I have witnessed CROM's banishment through Time's shroud,
And will marry outside our Morrig family.
When my people are sent to Morrig's Plain,
And lost to the worlds of Man,
My offspring shall on Earth remain,
Shall in time give birth to Ronan.
I went searching for battles far ahead,
And found Theo with my sight;
A sight that can only follow Morrig-bred,
So Megan's words are truer than right."
Last to speak was the Dagda,
Who refused to be outdone,
By Ariel's ancestry to Megan's da,
So claimed kinship to all and one.
"Auspicious indeed, this gathering then,
To let me look down my family tree,
At God and Goddess, our Theo and Megan,
And great seer that's yourself, are descended from me!"
Harumphing, the Dagda faced about,
And grinning, raised his axe to the Host,
Set it whistling, spinning to punctuate his shout.
"We've a new God here to boast!
Let the clans be gathered to this sound,
The song of my axe in flight.
The Champion of Man stands on Danu's ground,
To know who will join His fight!"
A thousand clans at least were there,
and all came forward then,
To hail their names, intentions, they were,
An impressive Host of Men.
Wives and daughters filled ranks as well,
Just as deadly as their male counterparts,
All bowed to Dagda, Myself, Ariel,
But it was Megan Who commanded their hearts.
Megan was a Goddess who stood between,
The mirror worlds of Life and Death,
Who'd died a warrior, was resurrected a Queen,
Over all for which they drew breath.
The uniting of all the families of Man,
Starting here and now.
We would cleanse the worlds of Crom's dread plan,
Of this We made Our vow!
Hosting lasted a while more,
Till all clans had sworn to Me,
To serve Our cause in a final war,
To break CROM and change Man's destiny.
(We must return to the Morrig, Theo.
Will You leave some parting word?
Queen Danu is near and much like Dio,
Is warmed by what She's heard.)
I answered Megan with a smile,
Pulled lightning from the sky,
To strike on swords and spears awhile,
Which the Danaan held up high.
Through mind, (YOUR BLADES ARE CHARGED BY HEAVEN'S FORGE,
TO BARE AN ELEMENTAL STAIN,
OF A BOLT TO DRIVE DOWN CROM'S FOUL GORGE,
THAT HE NEVER FEED AGAIN!)
Aloud, "I go now to free the Morrig,
Who've been kept in thrall to CROM.
All of Danu's Children and the Champion of Man,
Have such stakes in the battle to come!
Queen Danu, You rule within this frame,
On the side of Life and Light.
Will You honor Me Who holds the same,
With Your blessing afore this fight?"
An expectant breath was held by all...
When Her Laughter filled the air.
A gentle breeze, sweet Springtime's call,
Felt by everyone present there.
Her voice in Our minds was Nature's themes,
Birds and leaves, wind, waterfall...
(All men must follow their brightest dreams,
Or on waking stumble and fall.
My blessings upon Your noble cause,
Theo and Megan of Life and Light.
Your dreams are the stars that never pause,
To outshine CROM's darkest night.)
A sunburst spiral grew before Us then,
In shades of amber hue.
(Use this door I have opened to Morrig's Plain,
And know within My gift to You.)
We sent warmest thoughts to the Danaan Queen,
And with Ariel stepped into the light,
Saw lightning strike at what of Orly remained,
Knew We'd skipped back in time a mite.
We'd returned to the instant of Megan's display,
When I'd been appalled at what She might do,
But I had now lost ALL trace of that early dismay,
And with a God's confidence would see something new.
Megan spun about with Her sword held high,
Winked at Me, "Now You'll see what the Morrig can be,"
Noted Ariel in sight, "They'll sweep the sky,
For this one chance to finally be free!"
When that hissing sounded We both looked out,
To accept the Morrig's salute once again.
After the moment passed Megan gave shout,
"You stand before the Champion of Man!
The Bane of CROM has come at last,
To free you from the Dreamer's Realm.
It is Theo, the Godling Man Who has passed,
Out of legend to stand at your helm!"
Three thousand years they'd waited for Me,
Every man, every woman and child.
Three thousand years awaiting destiny,
At long last, a hope...they went wild!
(The day of reckoning?) (...finally come?)
(To confront our darkest Lord?)
(To leave this blasted Hell of CROM's)
(...lay down this bloody sword!)
I wept when hearkening to these hearts,
And sought Megan's hand in Mine,
Then trembled in rage through all of My parts,
for CROM's perverting of something divine.
He meant to depose the Christian God, Dio,
And corrupt the will of all men,
With parlor trick place Me on Earth as Lord Theo,
To fatten His foul larder again.
I sensed curiosity from Ariel,
(Could any God care so for Man?)
But he'd come from the age of CROM's favorite Hell,
Before Christ had come with opened, pierced hand.
The Goddess whispered as My words unfurled,
As I felt them one by one,
Ariston repeated,"God so loved the world,
That He gave His only begotten Son."
"In a way it seems fitting," said Ariel,
That this Dio is the opposite of CROM,
Granting life back from death, Heaven countering Hell,
Returning to the love we came from."
My Bride nodded smiling then turned away,
To address the anxious Horde,
"A mighty weapon is forged this day,
One suitable to My Lord."
Megan raised Her eyes to the farther side,
Of mountains ringing the Morrig's Plain.
Drove a spear of fire through earth which cried,
To render up its molten grain.
From the core of this world came metal dense,
Held aloft by powerful accord,
Of elemental force, strained and tense,
To create the perfect sword.
I watched, impressed, as Megan made,
From this mass a flattened orb,
Spinning madly, contracting was the stuff of My blade.
Tempered by a sun's fire and ice it absorbed.
Quenching and heating at the very same time,
The land was bathed in ethereal light.
A final spin threw off comets in sparks blinding bright,
That the blade now exposed seemed composed of midnight.
"The only hilt for Death's own sword,
Since it's death for CROM You'll be,
Shall be the remains of Your own dear Horde,
Whose souls, back on Earth, You'll also set free.
I call upon three thousand years,
Of the Morrig's honored dead,
Who lie in ground only salted by tears.
We would grant Earth's tender bed!"
The ground came upward beneath the Clans,
As their dead emerged into the light,
To briefly touch a warm cheek or hands,
Or simply stare at a child while in flight.
The press of bodies passed overhead,
To be joined with another, much smaller,
This, the essence of warriors longer dead,
So many souls with little matter to bother.
Megan wrought clouds to conceal what came,
About when both groups were met.
Coalescing all shapes into one and the same,
Then condensing which was grislier yet.
A moment's work in all, I think,
As Megan breathed life into this shape,
But not a sight for mortal eyes to drink,
No, those clouds were a merciful cape.
My sword was joined to the living hilt,
Connected by blood and sinew.
Not a single drop of blood was spilt,
As the blade slipped through the tissue.
A final spell of enchantment,
Megan fed then to the sword,
Which She explained as the clouds were bent,
To allow viewing by the Horde.
"You must call this weapon Achora,
But it's a 'Friend' to You alone.
No man or God may touch Achora,
Without giving up flesh and bone!"
Slowly drifted the sword to Me,
Floating gently above the plain.
The Morrig heard kinsong fleetingly,
And knew their dead now lived again.
This weapon was too large for a normal sized man,
And could not have fit into My hand,
So I assumed the form of My Morrig band,
And then tripled that height again.
Filled out, My body gained density,
Enough mass to counter the sword's.
I grasped lightly at first but then hungrily,
As Achora sang through Me in full chords.
A million voices was Achora's kinsong,
And every one loud and clear.
Three millennia of warriors made a chorus so strong,
That no sound could have passed by My ear.
Her grip adjusted to My left hand,
As Achora's song continued on,
Granting mastery of battle again and again,
Hard, sure experience where I had had none.
I sensed the Horde to be waiting for... what?
Ah, a mortal to go between.
An intimate contact of the Gods,
Someone to speak of ways and means.
This task seemed made for Ariel,
Who could guest with this newer age,
Of the people that had borne him well,
Before being torn from history's page.
I sought out the mind of the Morrig's captain,
And transported him to Our peak,
Called Ariel forth to meet the man,
Who was rather too stunned to speak.
"Know you legends of the Druid-King, Ariel Mor?"
This man, named Brannoc, nodded a sure yes.
"Well, this one, Leader Bran, is himself come to war,
And I think he might work with you best."
I dispatched to the plain both Ariel and Bran,
To forge their places in the battle to come.
Through the rest of the day did they hammer and plan,
For the downfall and destruction of CROM.
When the next day came born in reddened dawn,
I took Megan in My arms.
To gain kisses and promises that once She'd gone,
Through Time's gate to be careful of harm.
"What mortal hand could stay the flight,
Of Mine Own whilst wielding this sword?
Truly, dear Theo, all will be right.
Worry only that I shall be bored."
So saying, the Lady Megan withdrew,
From My embrace and sketched out Her door,
Blowing a last kiss, said, "I'm thinking of You."
Then stepped back to meet with Her killers once more.
Before the Spiral closed completely,
I sent a mental eye along,
The same path to watch over Megan discreetly,
Should anything chance to go wrong.
I peeked as She entered Her earlier form,
Making sure that My eye was set right,
Saw the young girl grow rigid then flushed, looking warm,
As My Megan settled in for Her fight.
She sauntered off to await Her prey,
As I let My straying vision return.
We were both committed now to this day,
And an age about to turn.
I whipped about to face the sun,
Such an angry, pestilent light,
Looked down on tents while from every one,
Burst Morrigan's Children, spoiling to fight.
Achora leaped to My hand of her own,
And added her scream to Mine.
In this song of death was Our threnody sown,
Oh, it sounded hot and fine.
My Keltic Dreamers were eager but stilled,
As they memorized their Champion's song.
For the rest of the day with every new kill,
Would they hurl out its melody strong.
This world's largest spiral gate was made,
When I wrested a drop from the sun.
Before the Morrig it churned where laid,
Till the Dagda and His Danaan rushed out as one.
I spun the gate beside these two,
Sides of the Army of Man,
Forced the spiral to slow and cool,
Closed its gate with a wave of My hand.
With Achora set firmly at My side,
I leapt out into space,
Attained the Earth in a heartbeats glide,
To acquaint the dual Host face to face.
The Morrig were staring in stunned disbelief,
At the Danaan, another race of their own.
My heart swelled so in expectant relief,
As hands reached out, nevermore left alone.
I strode to the center of both families,
And gestured for all to approach Me,
Broadcasted My thoughts, had them all seize,
On the concept of ONE family.
The Dagda and Ariel, after some time went,
Signaled to Me that they were ready.
"Lord Theo," blessed the Dagda "May CROM's sword be bent,
While Yours remains strait and steady!"
Smiling at the Dagda's sentiment,
For it mirrored so My own,
I called up the gate, spun it faster, sent,
It's nether end to open in Hell.
The spiral flared with violet light,
Stretched forward and widened out,
Raising Achora before Me, I called to flight,
The Morrig and Danaan with "CROM!" in a shout.
We rushed headlong past flaming walls,
While I pulled from behind Us more light.
Behind Us trailed a new day to fall,
And fill Crom's Hell that knew only night.
As we exited the spiral I flexed with great might,
And drew forth the Morrig's small sun,
Directed it heavenward to illumine Hell's blight,
And the battle We'd soon see begun.
A warped and twisted world We found,
Was Crom's Hell when seen by day.
Foul creatures crept and stalked aground,
While the sky was filled with winged things of prey.
A single structure caught My eye,
Stood alone on this nightmare plain,
An obsidian fortress, wide and high,
With dimensions and angles insane.
"No doubt the palace of Hell's own lord."
Spoke the Dagda, following My gaze.
"It reflects the way his mind is cored."
I replied, having seen CROM's ways.
I closed the gate behind Us then,
Absorbed its energy directly,
Altered slightly that power, sent it outward again,
To encompass My Host completely.
"I am charging you all with a part of Me,
A touch of Godhood one might say.
No one among you should die weakly,
While any part of Me holds sway.
I asked the captains to order their ranks,
With which the Host swiftly complied.
As We moved ahead with extended flanks,
Twenty thousand and One marched with pride.
We reached a wall of midnight black,
In what seemed two hours of time.
Close inspection confirmed that CROM's home showed a lack,
Of any purpose or rhyme.
A wall made of strands my Host hacked to get in,
But this substance resisted their attack.
I drew forth Achora who sang to her kin,
And lunged at the wall that surprisingly screamed back.
A single hole did Achora tear,
With little resistance at all.
The substance composing this wall felt like hair,
Writhing tresses which still moved, grasping where they fell.
I turned My blade to the side,
Then walked a fair length of the wall,
Separating the strands in an ebony tide,
To make room for one and all.
We stepped across the severed strands,
Found Ourselves in an filthy courtyard.
An enormous area of sorts with stands,
With a floor mosaiced in human shard.
Perceiving more from My vantaged height,
Mine was the first heart to rake over coals,
As I saw that mosaic was small bones, bleached white,
And the background made up of wee infant skulls!
I tripled My size and Achora's,
Leapt back over CROM's wall in rage,
To issue My challenge to the cause,
Of such death, so much pain in this age.
"CROM CRUACH, come face the Champion of Man,
For I've brought the Dreaming Horde!
Your own 'Fierce Warrior' has come to stand...
Astride Your corpse for His reward!"
My challenge was answered immediately,
In the sounds of running men,
Approaching as My Host stood impatiently,
For My word to let the battle begin.
An army of ages came to stand,
Across the courtyard from My own,
Made up of history's most despicable men,
Were CROM's Legion wrought and sown.
Then CROM Himself came ambling out,
To stand among His foul array,
Seeking to cow Me with His pout,
"I have not called for You this day."
CROM's ability to sway Me now was fled,
As His own blood filled My veins.
No enchantment shaped would turn My head,
From the need to view His remains.
"Doddering CROM, Your Bane is come,
Ariel's prophesy must be fulfilled.,
As the Godling Man takes the mantle from,
The dead God who'll now be killed!"
CROM vaulted His legion to spring at Me,
A naked blade growing out of His hand,
(AT LAST!) thought My Host as I said, finally,
"For Mankind!" and the battle began.
Crom's height matched Mine as Our swords clashed,
Though His outline wavered yet.
There were sounds of thunder, lightning flashed,
As Our swords were truly met.
My Host went charging to and fro,
Cutting into the dark legion's ranks,
Then surrounded three sides by retreating so,
As to bring in its outer flanks.
Loud was the sound of Achora's hiss,
As she swept by the nemesis blade.
Her bright flashing arcs led surely My fist,
To wherever the other sword laid.
When I heard Megan's voice call faintly to Me,
I halted Time to an atom's part,
Followed My mental eye hurriedly,
While My sword was being thrust at CROM's heart.
Downward through the spiral track,
And alike parting layers of age,
Ran my vision seeking farther back,
Made the world a suspended page...
Passing the Goddess' call, I spun round,
Found Myself in Megan's Glade.
Six men lay broken on the ground,
While the last one had just lost his blade.
I recognized among them Ronan's five,
Those three with hair black and red.
When last I'd seen this trio alive,
CROM was leaching the color from every head.
The final attacker lay on his back,
With Megan's sword pinned to his chest,
While Her mind sorted through the jumbled tack,
Of his thoughts he only stared at Her wrist.
When She started to scream I let Megan know,
That My mind was there beside Her,
Then looked to see what had started Her so,
Within the thoughts of this lone survivor.
Revealed to Me was the face of CROM,
Speaking words of lust and plunder.
From three days north had come this scum,
Whom the God had spoken to in wonder.
(There is more,) thought Megan, radiating death,
(They killed a girl just yesterday...)
She twisted the Anglic's memory a breath,
And the scene reversed to play...
A Samhain festival and firelight,
A young woman stepping near,
Who was bound and gagged though she tried to fight,
And dragged off in the dark by her hair...
To a deeper wood where, taking turns,
The seven raped the lass,
Then slit her throat while inflicting burns,
As their priests had done in the past.
Mounting up they departed from that scene,
Fled into a red fog ahead,
Grew disoriented as if riding into a dream..
Megan slowly lowered Her head.
(That girl was My mother, was Ronan's Maeve,
Who was slain that Samhain Eve.
These dogs slipped through time as she cooled in her grave,
While for eighteen years Ronan grieved.
Ronan searched so long for sign of them,
At the point where their trail; ran out,
Never knowing that CROM had folded Time's hem,
Oh, he casted for months about.
Sweet Gods, it was all such a clever plan,
First Maeve's death then Mine own,
To gain passage back to the worlds of Man,
By leaving Ronan insane and alone.)
Megan's body was shuddering terribly,
So I eased Her suffering with this,
(Your father shall come this morning to be,
Greeted by his daughter with a kiss!)
It didn't take long for that to sink in,
That history might hold a blank page,
To be rewritten all over again,
Megan's brow grew smooth and sage.
I thought that My life must now be forfeit,
Since My ancestor would not then be born,
From that sprite sent by CROM, Oh, I felt deep regret,
But for Megan's life, willingly, I'd have own page out torn.
Megan knew My thoughts and shook Her head,
(Time cannot touch Us with that paradox.
When We'd come to Godhood, Our mortal reference was shed,
We've ascended beyond Time's ability for locks.)
Much heartened was I to hear of this,
Shedding quickly any feeling of gloom,
Looked down at the Anglic who awaited Death's kiss,
Found he'd fainted from too much doom.
(He's done this before, You know,) I thought,
When an idea came to Me,
(Let's present him to Ronan who surely ought,
To gain some measure from avenging his wife finally.)
Megan's thoughts raced ahead to what this might accomplish,
Pinned with magic his arms at the hips,
Propped him up then awakened the lout with a wish,
Shaped a geis that only truth leave his lips.
She marched the last killer to Ronan's dwelling,
While My eye hovered just above.
I moved back to allow Megan room for the telling,
Of some quick fabrications and hard truths couched in love.
When hoofbeats sounded down the lane,
When Ronan hove into view,
I was minded of My first dream once again,
With a queer sense of deja vu.
Megan greeted Her Da as any girl might,
Who'd been gone for merely a night,
But the hug that She gave him, too fierce and tight,
Made Ronan notice the tear that She swept out of sight.
"What is it, Megan? Is something amiss?"
Ronan asked, looking at Her anew,
So She steeled Herself, gave Her da a fresh kiss,
Said, "There is so much I must needs tell you."
She wove then a tale of being visited by Sidhe,
Who'd granted Her some of their powers,
Then turning quite grave, told the truth about Maeve,
The eighteen years skipped by her killers in hours.
"I've brought the last of the vermin with Me,
To ask what you'd have Me do.
Shall I dispatch the dog most painfully,
Or does his derbfine need collected by you?"
Ronan asked to see Maeve's murderer,
Whom Megan fetched, still under Her spell,
To speak only truth when Ronan questioned after,
The manner of fate to which his Maeve fell.
Ronan grew heated then cooled by degree,
And he was ice through the rest of the telling,
Of Maeve's tragic death, every shuddering breath,
Brought him close to where madness was welling.
When the last words were fallen from the Anglic's spelled lips,
And the truth of Maeve's death finally told,
Both Megan and Ronan clutched the swords at their hips,
But Ronan shook his head and said, sounding old...
"I swear by Dio, bright God high above,
I'll not sully my blade with his life.
Let God punish this one, Sweet Megan, my love.
Soon enough will he stand before God and the wife."
Of the noblest character displayed Ronan Mac Conal,
Who had suffered aplenty through the years,
To raise up his daughter without a mother's model,
And eighteen years worth of nights calling Maeve through his tears.
I simply knew too little of Dio,
To let even one of Maeve's killers go free,
So the God who collected for Megan's mother was Theo,
Who just then felt no great sense of charity.
Megan loosed the bonds constraining the sod,
Who, when released, shot off like a dart.
I paced for two miles then dispatched him to God,
By bidding his body crush its own heart.
Megan's thoughts touched Mine as the corpse touched ground,
(I was Myself coming for that man.
My father is kind but rabid dogs left around,
May return and try biting the merciful hand.
What do We now with My father's new life,
For I fear to abandon him so?)
I gave the only answer that I could to My wife,
(You must stay even as I must go.
I shall stop for a moment every year on this date,
Till your da passes all mortal harms,
Then We'll deliver Ronan personally to Heaven's own gate,
And see him into his Maeve's waiting arms.)
(That does seem to be the only real answer,)
My Megan perforce did agree.
( You play with Time's music and I'll be the dancer,
Aye, We'll reunite after Da finds eternity.)
I played with time to move ahead right,
And the universe started to spin.
A year became moments then seconds in flight,
While Megan's form flickered out and back in.
Her presence grew solid at each longer turn,
As She skipped through a week or three,
But Her longest stay only increased My yearn,
For fleeting kisses that to Us felt barely.
I took hold of a moment not future or past,
At precisely when Megan bade Me,
Found Ronan quite old, on his pallet at the last,
Was heartened to know he'd die gently.
(Theo, be ready to catch his shade...
Oh, damn, this hurt is so great!
I've seen this moment many times and every time paid,
With fresh tears. How I've loved him, of late,)
A shimmering haze formed about Ronan's frame,
As his soul prepared to leap free,
With his last breath expended, stillness came,
As mist rose the essence of Ronan to Me.
Megan helped Me to gather it all,
Till We held in Our two hands,
The entirety of what was still Ronan Mac Conal,
The warrior, the father, the man.
I felt wonder and new found curiosity,
radiating from the soul in my hand.
(Megan, Your father would know what's to be.
So let Us show him what We had planned,
Matching My words to wondrous deed,
Megan and Myself sought change,
To bodies of light whose brilliant speed,
Might attain for Ronan, Heaven's range.
As We pierced the upper shell of life.
I called out Ronan's name in a shout,
To herald Our coming to God and the wife,
A fresh soul coming home on this route.
The stars began to shine brighter,
As We three neared Heaven's gate,
Then We felt Ronan's spirit grow even lighter,
As Our own became featherweight.
We came to land on an ivory shore,
With the slightest hint of motion.
A verdant green glowed Heaven's Door,
And beyond was the greatest ocean...
Of gentle peoples I'll ever see,
Sending their thoughts of love to Me,
To Megan and Ronan who then stepped free,
And stood in youth anew eternally.
Ronan strode into the parting mass,
Was welcomed as a son who'd come home,
Sighted before him a sweet smiling lass,
Whose eyes, brimmed with tears, were a shade of sea-foam.
This angel was Maeve, both mother and wife,
Of all that I now held dear.
Who had waited for ages after CROM took her life,
Till We filled a blank page to bring Ronan here.
We waved Our farewell to the two reunited,
Turned about to be on Our way,
With two deaths averted, Ronan's Passage had righted,
As CROM would learn When we'd taken the day.
We sped away from Heaven's Gate,
To meet with destiny in Hell,
Then heard together the voice of God state,
(MY BLESSINGS GO WITH YOU AS WELL.)
Through Time's twisting corridor We sought,
To reach a fateful moment halted.
Megan arrived before I got,
To then and waited, exalted.
With Achora firmly in My grasp,
I released Time once again,
Felt metal strike and sparking rasp,
As CROM deflected where I'd struck back when.
Megan, standing before CROM's hall,
Was once more the Goddess True,
Held aloft Her sword, saluted all,
Then laid deft strokes about Her too.
I was following closely CROM's attack,
But had a mind to glance around,
So set some mental eyes in back,
Of Myself and quickly found...
That CROM's legion had nearly doubled in size,
Though so many of His lay aground.
I was startled an instant by this nasty surprise,
When a group of My own Host went down.
The oddest sensation stole over me,
As each Morrig or Danaan was killed,
A split second only of lethargy,
Then with a greater strength was I filled.
My warriors, once dead were being reborn,
Jumping up with their weapons of war,
The power of death over them had been torn,
When I'd shared of Myself that while before.
I'd only sought to lend them strength,
But my spell had quite gone awry,
In this wondrous way to expand the length,
And power of life to all who might die.
I had a fair suspicion then,
That this must be the Glory of God,
A new life given as old lives end,
Going on to more than sod.
All of the knowledge and power,
Of the Dagda and Ariel Mor,
Rendered CROM's legion more ragged by the hour,
In ways unknown to modern war.
The Dagda possessed such awesome might,
That a battering ram was his mace,
Single swings of which took twenty men from the fight,
And retired them also from the living race.
Ariel and Brannoc were somewhat more subtle,
And it was hard to sense this weird thing,
Which kept spinning around Ariel all through the battle,
Megan called it...a faerie ring?
Brannoc's Morrig fought in a great u-shaped rim,
With Ariel at its precise center,
Who welcomed dark soldiers to come try to strike him,
But that ring devoured all like CROM handled dinner.
What glorious havoc We were wrecking,
On the forces of Evil Night,
Each man of Ours, fallen, rose stronger, striking,
Outmatching whatever CROM brought to this fight.
Megan showered beauty and death all around,
Making poetry while swinging about Her,
And seeming more lightning, she scarce touched the ground,
Cutting down vicious foes hard to number.
I wished then that all of the Gods could see,
The powerful stand these warriors were making,
Not just for themselves but all Humanity,
By felling a God who thought Earth for the taking.
I felt a strong presence about Me then,
And dread CROM's eyes widened also,
As such a number of beings materialized in,
To hover around Our show.
A few were trying to leave again,
When I recognized with a start,
That these were Gods like Myself and Megan,
or even CROM who stabbed at My heart.
I parried his blade while seeking One,
To explain how this had happened,
That so many Gods had heard and come,
To witness Our battle's end.
Danu's voice rang out to say,
Across the minds of All and Any,
(Did You make the spell which pulled astray,
And brought the likes of Gods so many?)
All I'd done was shape the words.
But I never uttered it.
How could My wish have brought these Herds,
Who now seemed in a snit?
Dio caught My thought and laughed,
(Strange Theo, do You not know,
That to do this thing should at least have halved,
The powers that within You flow?)
I still was lost to what They meant,
As I beat at Crom's defense,
For He'd kept swinging and seemed near spent,
While I felt Achora tense.
She knew the second before I did,
That CROM's luck had finally flown.
He repeated a move past which she slid,
And bit into His shoulder bone.
He couldn't die from mortal blows,
But still, CROM was shaken badly,
Then dropped His sword and faced the rows,
Of Gods while and giggling madly.
Achora struggled within My hand,
Seeking CROM in His unsteady mirth,
So I stilled her with the promise of burial land,
For her million souls back on Earth.
In the blink of an eye, CROM disappeared,
While throwing back His voice to All,
"You fools, I've still Ronan's Passage, cleared,
Through the Milk God, Dio's Wall!"
I looked to Megan Who wore a grin,
At the thought of CROM hitting the wall,
When She sprang to My side, CROM reappeared, pinned,
By Our swords though He'd curled in a ball.
I raised My fist to gather bolts,
Watched a storm rage round My hand,
Then hurled a rain of deadly jolts,
Into what Legion might still stand.
I now had time to find the sense,
In what Danu and Dio had spoken,
So asked of Them while the other Gods tensed,
What rules of Godhood I had broken.
"There are no rules to Godhood, Theo."
Queen Danu spoke first to assure Me.
"It is that you've become an equal to Dio,
To Myself and these Others so quickly!
You never thought that a God could have limits,
And didn't limit Yourself unwitting,
You imagination is a wellspring of infinites,
And we fear what You might see as fitting."
Those other Gods nodded gravely,
Which, in truth, gave Me some fright,
But Megan took My hand and thought bravely,
(The Champion of Man can set this right!)
I took a deep breath and then another,
Said, "I once was a simple man,
Who believed that a stranger could be made a brother,
If only offered Our hearts and a hand.
I wish You All could see with Me,
Then this vision I would follow,
To free Man from his dark destiny,
And in forgiving, gain a brighter tomorrow,"
The Gods all around remained silent,
And I supposed that They didn't agree,
But then Danu smiled gently, (Their own limits have bent,
For I sense in Them all harmony!)
Dio nodded to confirm it was so,
Said, "For ages I've worked toward this goal,
But without quite the power that Your wishes show,
For Yourself with that Champion's soul.
The Morrig and Danaan began cheering for Me,
Themselves reborn in the Battle for Man.
Each one passed now before Me, dropped weapon, briefly touched Me,
To signal their readiness for the new task at hand...
The forging of a better race of Man,
One that would never again need for war.
As I opened a new gate to forever stand.
Something nagged at Me for a second or more...
So I dissipated the being of CROM,
Added part of Myself to it too,
Sent this energy back out to encompass Everyone,
Granting greater imagination to whatever They'll do.
It was time to leave the plane of Hell.
I gathered up My Host,
Bid the Gods return to Their Own and fare well,
And gave Megan a kiss with My most.
A fleeting thought passed through My head,
Of how this all had started,
With the remnants of a strange dream, still in bed...
WHEN THE UNIVERSE RIPPED AND PARTED!
My name is Theo MacConnell,
And I've been having the strangest dreams,
For the last three nights I've lain in a pall,
And now nothing is what it seems.
For instance, this brooch I found in my hand,
As I awakened this morning,
Or the cross that I'd left on the dressing stand,
Which flew to me without warning.
The world appears to've matured overnight,
In the time I've spent slumbering so,
For the papers say not a single fight,
Has broken out anywhere in the world.
There are quite a few new politicians about,
Who all go by the name of Morrigan,
In fact, one's a senator that recently came out,
To say he's running for president.
A new neighbor has moved in next door,
A young man who dropped by for a spell,
This morning we had coffee. Ariston Lyndon Moore,
But he asked me to simply call him Ari L.
So many changes in only three days,
And a dream whose many pieces don't fit.
This brooch seems involved in some mysterious way...
I wonder if my girlfriend, Megan would like it?
I am sitting before my typewriter now,
And a small verse keeps running through my head.
It's familiar to me but I cannot say how.
Is it something that I might have read?
"...From the dream of a dream,
Thence to wake with a start,
Something slips in between,
That no dream can impart..."
THE END?
Thence to wake with a start,
Something slips in between,
That no dream can impart...
Was it dreamed that I stood at a mountain's top,
Looking down on the world of Morrig's Plain?
Were the people I saw the ones God sought to stop,
And the ones over whom I was given to reign?
They looked rather lean, a gangly lot,
All of them tall but so spare of frame.
I sighted a figure aside who seemed squat,
Watching the Morrig and pacing their game.
They were going about the practice of war,
With deadly calm and accuracy;
Ten thousand warriors, no less, no more...
Would they truly fight for me?
...Fight for Me...FIGHT FOR ME?
Oh, Gods, I was dreaming again!
I shouted in shock to what powers there be,
As I gained recollection of dawn at Crom's Glenn.
I could see all too clearly then Crom's vengeful scheme,
And my own part intended within His plan.
With horror mounting I recounted the dream,
Of a spiral passage and my death as a man.
Thunder rolled over me from a leaden sky,
To outshout my anguished plea,
And I knew when it paused the same second as I,
That this was my voice, echoed back at me...
For within My veins flowed Ice and Fire.
Elemental forces were Mine to command.
Nothing could pierce this God's flesh I'd acquired;
Nothing human could hope to hold back My Hand.
Throughout this daunting rumination,
It seems I'd failed to see,
That My cry had caught the Morrig's attention.
Twenty thousand eyes aimed unerringly at Me.
It was silence that bid Me lift My head,
To scan this deadly, bitter crowd,
Resentment now burned where dark humour had fled.
For I heard their thoughts, quite clear and loud.
(Is it CROM?) (Truly CROM?) (...The Accursed One?)
(Has the Time of Appeasement come round again?)
(I will not break...) (...not turn and run..)
(Da, make Him leave our world. You can...)
That last thought, a child's, too young to know,
What CROM wrought when appearing from time to time.
I found CROM's antics in her father's mind though-
Soulless corpses seared, dancing Death's pantomime.
That stouter person I'd seen before,
Was now capering, dancing up the mountain's face.
He was moving slow enough that I called to him "More."
He giggled quite madly as flight quickened his pace.
I halted this fellow's ride abruptly,
Before Me, feet jigging in midair,
When a sweet voice came softly, (His name is Orly,
And he's CROM's watchdog so have a care.)
I sensed vision doubling behind My eyes,
As that soft voice addressed Me again,
(Let Us kill this demon ere his disgusting cries,
Call forth Lord CROM to feed upon men.)
It was Megan's contralto I hearkened to,
My mind lurched maddeningly!
From CROM's world where the spiral gate pulled Me through,
Megan's soul must have travelled within me!
I searched within Myself for the source,
Of Her memories, spread 'cross My mind,
Laid magic hands upon this silken force,
And pulled it forth to find...
Megan's soul which shimmered brightly,
I know not how I dressed Her anew,
With immortal flesh I dressed Megan rightly,
And gave new life to a Goddess True!
She stood in moonglow radiance,
Fully decked in a sheath of light,
With hair of rose gold ambiance,
And eyes, sea-green, so pale yet bright.
"There is something missing still." I said,
Hummed a song of conjuring,
Megan's laugh made rainbows so I took the light bled,
and shaped a bright blade for the Goddess Colleen.
Her movement was music which had Me entranced,
As she nimbly took up the sword and danced,
Around Me to Orly, who scarce had the chance,
To cry out before being, by My Ancestress, lanced.
She hewed him in quarters and tossed the pieces down,
To the base of the mountain, the edge of the plain,
Drew then lightning to strike at a small patch of ground,
Burned to ash what was left of Orly's remains.
Megan spun about with sword held high,
"Now You'll see what the Morrig can be,
With CROM's demon dispatched, they'll sweep the sky,
For this one chance to finally be free!"
Of cryptic remarks I had had quite enough,
From Ronan, then CROM and now, Megan,
These whirlwind dreams were getting bloodier, too rough,
For the likes of this poor mortal man.
Those other three dreams played before this one,
Had at least entertained me, in a way,
But I felt too awake now, too real to have fun,
Wanted dearly to return to yesterday.
A hissing arose from the Morrig's direction,
We both turned quickly to see,
If Crom had caught Orly's impromptu dissection,
Or was answering his sword-shortened plea.
It was the Morrig making this fearsome noise,
By thrusting their shields into sand edge wide,
Then leaping upon the rims of their toys,
Rocked the razor edge side to side.
An impressive feat, I had to say,
Using ten thousand shields for football punts,
But the fact still remained that my terror held sway,
I want out of this nightmare at once!
Creating a sword was easy enough,
With the powers I dreamed I possessed,
But deposing Earth's God sounded more than just tough,
What would it hurt to give my psychosis a rest?
"They are saluting Us for Orly's demise,"
Whispered Megan, at my side,
"So stand up straight, put steel in Your eyes,
Help the Morrig regain their pride."
I looked at Megan in disbelief,
"Dear Lady, I am not what I seem,
As I'm scared to death of dealing God any grief,
For what He'll do to me if this isn't a dream!
And then there's CROM, I simply can't understand,
All that talk of His 'Fierce Keltic Warrior.'
I was a normal man whose career had been planned,
All I'd craved was to be a paid writer!"
Megan looked to the host who now milled about,
Reached down and took My hand,
Chanted a spell, turned Us inside out,
Delivered Us to a new dreamland.
A small, white sun hung in this sky,
And the air smelled of lilacs in season.
Megan let go My hand and sat down with a sigh,
Gathering up Her thoughts to reason.
In this pristine, faerie book setting,
Megan lowered Her sword to the ground,
Said, "You deserve more answers than you've been getting,
And We've pushed you terribly around.
Firstly, Theo, You are a warrior,
You've just never been given opportunity,
And that 'Spirit' felt by CROM, The Cur,
Was simply You while harboring Me.
When CROM shared with YOU His Godhood,
His power ran as well into Me.
He's probably reeling still and should,
Since We're now somewhat stronger than He.
My father it was, who'd reasoned this out.
For he's had eight hundred years to think.
Crom's goal of a champion could scarce come about,
If We allied ourselves to that crucial link.
You were the descendent We needed to win,
So Da killed off the other bloodline,
As that sot had already gone over to sin,
And would've called CROM to Earth's table to dine.
We watched over You as You grew to a man,
So I know of Your love for Irish lore.
Simplicity itself is Mine and Da's plan,
And I promise You'll live to write a bit more.
You'll be taking Our new gained Keltic band,
With Yourself to confront Our Lord.
There's a smaller task that requires My hand,
Before I join You and the Horde.
I've in mind to slip back in time a fair piece,
To visit, as a Goddess with My killers again,
You know of My life and death, at least,
But a wee bit's omitted there near the end.
Now...here's where My tale gets complicated,
So please try to stay and follow with Me.
You'll love this once it's been related,
As it deals with Keltic mythology.
In the days of My youth, far from here and now,
Christianity had already taken hold,
But as a warrior, following code and vow,
I also loved tales of the old battles told.
There were four distinct waves of wanderers,
That took possession of Eire, having gained Her shore,
The Milesians, the Danaan, the Firbolg and Fomor,
Our druids could likely count one or two more.
The race that cherished Eire the most,
Are the Danaans, by the way.
They're the parents of Our Morrig host,
And You'll meet a few today.
I know My words do ramble about,
But it will all make sense, You'll see.
Please remove from Your face that impatient pout,
As I tell You of the Danaan, or Sidhe…
I'd always loved sagas recounting the Sidhe,
(That's 'SHEE' to you and Me.)
Whose greatest heroes were fierce and free,
Living lives epitomized by bravery.
When training, I called upon their Champion, the Dagda,
By name to watch over My every fight,
For he'd watched as well over Lugh Lamfada,
And when calling I'd swear that My sword grew light.
With his name on My lips I was ready to die,
As some of My comrades claimed to be too,
But they couldn't believe in him quite as I,
Did then, Who now believes in You.
Well, the Dagda did indeed hear Me,
When called from My very first time.
He'd ignored being called through the cacophony,
Of stories told and rhyme.
He had sensed within Me the Warrior True,
That same warrior, Theo, I sense in You,
The Dagda sent a dream that whatever I do,
He would lend Me aid if I needed him to.
I needed him sorely on that night,
When attacked by those seven men,
But he came too late in that ill-fated fight,
Which resolved itself two days gone at CROM's Glenn.
The ass that dealt Me the mortal blow,
Was the one that stole My cloak.
But when I slew two and fought harder though,
The other five ran and left Me to croak.
The Dagda had left his faerie liss,
With an axe and sped to My side,
But when he'd ascertained what had gone amiss,
He sat himself down and cried...
"I've lived too long in a Sidhe mound,
Where the barriers grow with age.
By the time I had broken through the ground,
Were you turning your final page.
I swore an oath to watch over you,
And I've let you down shamefully, child.
Shall I run down that pack to collect your due?
You'll sleep warm with their skins on your burial cairn piled.
I was longing, keening for one hour more,
Time enough to reach My da's home,
But I knew Death would take Me still far from his door,
As My soul started stretching to roam.
The Dagda heard My aching need,
Leaned close to touch My breast,
Gave strength to limbs which had ceased to bleed,
And will to the heart stilling in My chest.
That last mortal walk was sheer agony,
And slow beyond belief.
Instead of wonder for the Dagda beside me,
I thought of My poor da's grief.
He'd lost My mother in a similar way,
Three full moons from the day I drew breath.
Da would find Me this morning, minded of Maeve on that day,
How he'd missed finding the bastards who'd cut her door into death.
The Dagda left not a footprint,
But Mine were enough to track.
Da would find this trail and kill the squint,
That did Me while snatching the cloak from My back.
When finally arrived, the Dagda let go,
Of the hand held through our walk.
Where fallen that hand, mostly dead, still moved though,
To scrawl in mud what Da should stalk.
The Dagda snatched My soul up,
As it burst then free to roam,
Said, "It's on Manannan's pigs we'd sup,
If you'd care to grace my home."
Freed of life I lost care, felt insubstantial,
But the Dagda shook his head,
"If your thoughts to me are consequential,
Then you can't be truly dead!"
(Go on!) thought I to this wonderful man,
(Let's on to your faerie liss,
Oh, I wish I'd a body for offering,
Or at least lips to give you a kiss!)
The Dagda was taken aback at this,
But then roared with great delight.
I trailed some humorous thoughts of his,
As that mighty frame took flight.
Across the land he raced with Me,
Just one lost soul in tow,
And though I'd died so recently,
It seemed an age ago.
I thought of spirals suddenly,
Of doorways cut through time.
Of whimsical Gods, an anguished plea,
And an ancient Druid's rhyme...
"Death dies and taking Life in hand,
The Dead God's mantle must be torn,
Give back to Life a Godling man.
To right Earth's balance, born.
When the First Dawn kills the Last Night,
As Dark God on Man will feast,
He, out of darkness comes to fight,
Theo, to kill the Beast."
"A druid named Ariel sang this tattle,
Over two thousand years ago.
It's the 'Song of Death' for Gods who battle,
With the Man-God, born for war."
A haunting chill ran up My spine,
At this mention of My name,
From three thousand years removed in time,
Had this Ariel heaped Me with fame!
"I asked the Dagda what was meant,
By these images in My mind."
"It means your da is truly Hell bent,
Since your body did he find.
Your sire is changing reality,
As he drags up the past again.
Ronan's also lost part of his sanity,
As he hunts down the other five men."
(Oh, Gods!) thought I, (Why couldn't I see,
What My scribbled word must have done?
By peeling back the scab on his memory,
Must the old and fresh wound run!)
"You mustn't worry 'bout what's been done,
And in fact, you can't, for a while.
We've arrived at my home and I for one,
Intend to distract you with style."
A small, rounded hill we stood before,
Till a crack opened on its side.
Lovely music filled out from his widening door,
As the Dagda brought Me in to abide.
"You've no idea what's within my Sidhe mound."
Said the Dagda...AT MY SIDE?
I was standing and breathing in a body more sound,
Than the one in which I'd died!
"All spirits are granted a form in my home.
I recall you wanted some thing...
Do you know that your eyes look just like sea foam?
Ah, yes, it was a body you wanted...for offering."
Megan's voice had lulled Me so,
That I couldn't quite feel just then,
The trepidation I known but an hour ago.
Megan took up Her tale once again.
A long, long time I dwelled within,
The Dagda's faerie mound.
He'd a spell that spread joy where My grief might have been,
So I failed to heed the seasons going round.
My father searched every conceivable Hell,
For the daughter that he had lost.
With CROM's blood in his veins his body fared well,
But his mind paid a terrible cost.
Knowing such doubt as years passed in and out,
Searching through all the worlds of Man,
Ranged Ronan, casting ever about,
Forever praying to find Me again.
I suppose it became inevitable,
That My father should find Me then,
Sitting down to board at the Dagda's table,
As I'd done since who knew when.
"Megan of Ronan, have you any tears,
For the sire returned to your side?
I have searched for you nearly three hundred years,
And not once have my own eyes dried!"
As My father embraced Me, out poured all the grief,
Pain and shame held at bay for so long.
My poor da set to trembling with joy and relief,
Then sobered to speak of a monstrous wrong.
He told Myself and the Dagda,
Of his unwholesome pact with CROM,
Of his hopes for Your own dream saga,
To counter what was fated to come.
The Dagda asked to have a part,
Of this upcoming battle of Man,
Since CROM's sway over the Milesians was at the heart,
Of his Danaans' self banishment beneath their own land.
"I'll round up my tribes, raise the Danaan Host,
To join that of your Champion to come.
We'll combine our forces to gain the most,
Advantage when dealing with CROM!"
The Dagda warmed to the task at hand,
As he and Da schemed merrily away.
Those two fearsome warriors soon had it all planned,
But things have changed quite a bit since that day.
It is I who have cared for You the most,
And I, who since did plan,
To be at Your side as You call on the Host,
For I love the Champion of Man!
I conspired to become a Goddess,
So that only I may serve,
Your every hearts desire lest,
You get less than You deserve.
I have watched through all Your mortal life
And Your dreams I know intimately.
You've had Your share of frustration and strife,
Can You say You'd go back to it willingly?"
I sought for a moment for reasoned thought,
But where was reason in all that I'd gained?
This Goddess' love and a fine Keltic plot
So what reason for reason remained?
The words I spoke then had always been there,
From that dream when I'd first seen Her face,
On Her Father's stoop in deathly pallor,
Was Her beauty so great that death couldn't erase.
"Lady, I'd have this dream run on until,
All the stars must weaken and fall.
For the honor of Your hand in Mine I will,
Challenge any Gods, one or ALL!
You are the source of My wildest imaginings,
The wellspring of all I desire.
I am the bell that Your touch or breath doth ring,
Your mere glance bids My spirit soar higher."
Megan took My hand in Hers,
And then rocked My soul anew,
By repeating My words, both line and verse,
While a maelstrom about Us grew.
Spinning Strips of energy formed,
Like ribbons of mobius light,
Between Us, within Us, around Us, formed,
By the fire of Our love, burning stellar bright.
We were forging a single soul from two,
That no power in the cosmos might part.
As the Champion of Man and His Goddess True,
We found love that would burst any lesser heart.
Completion then let the whirlwind storm,
Loose its hold, softly drift away.
Wisps of gossamer steel became smoke, lost their form,
Till only at mist did a fresher wind play.
The bond We'd made fused perfectly,
As We spoke now mind to mind,
(Within Your eyes, Myself, I see...)
(Tell Me, Megan what You find.)
(That girl I see is much too fair,
To be, at all the likes of Me.
I remember having frizzier hair,
And this body never used to be.)
(Not once did I improve the least,
On Your frame for You are perfection,
And I just heard You call Me a beast.
Prepare to be tickled, oh Goddess Confection!)
Our interlude was brief but sweet,
With such promise of raptures to come,
But We'd still the Danaan with which to meet,
And a complete hosting yet to be done.
We spoke volumes with looks and the clasping of hands,
Cawed to by rooks as We walked through this land.
The mightiest oaks spread their leaves to us, fanned,
By the force of Our passage to what destiny planned.
Outward from the forest We came,
To see in a clearing made wide,
The Danaan Host of Irish fame,
And of which Megan shouted with pride.
"The Children of Danu await You, Lord.
See Your name upon their streamers,
Tied to their spears with hair woven cord,
Like those of Your Keltic Dreamers!"
Her words were pitched for Danaan ears,
While I heard within, in kind,
(If You'll take the time to impress these dears,
Their hearts will to Us bind.)
(What limits exist to what I may do?)
I sent Megan My own thought aside.
(Whatever's envisioned is possible for You.)
Replied My lovely eldritch bride.
(Then I know exactly what I'll have done.
Please lend Me Your hand, My dear.
I feel need of moral support for this one,
I intend to call up Your Druid seer.),
I sketched in air that ancient door,
A spiral of golden light,
Then looked within this passage for,
A link to Ariel's Druid sight.
I beheld a storm tossed sea,
Composed of crimson light,
And a boy, serene, staring up at Me,
Through the spiral burning bright.
His thoughts were ripples spreading out.
(While awash in the Druid's Sea,
Time's currents sent to me a shout.
Is it Theo who summons me?)
I placed the thought within his mind,
Of what I intended to do,
And receiving his answer was pleased to find,
That he eagerly wanted this too.
A whirlpool spun beneath the lad,
When he was touched by the spiral gate,
Compelled to Me across time gone mad,
Up a corridor charged with fate.
Out rushed tides of the Druid's sea,
Preceding Ariel's flight.
The spiral glowed red and shook violently,
Till the boy was swept into the light...
Of the small white sun hanging in Our sky.
Those mystic waters retreated from sight,
Back down the spiral with multitudinous sigh,
While Ariel remained, smiling bright.
He looked like Megan amazingly,
And more than a bit like Me.
With a portion of Ronan!) did Megan agree,
As We studied him curiously.
A lone figure approached from the Danaan Host,
A mythic giant of a man,
Who, instead of the spears being held by most,
Of his tribes, gripped an axe in his hand.
"This warrior must be the Dagda,
Or else I've missed My guess.
The Champion who watched over Lugh Lamfada,
What defeated the Fomor and Bres!"
A great smile split his angular face,
At My heaping of his fame.
"It seems you've heard of me, Good Sir,
For I am that very same!"
A loud shout of joy sprang from Ariel,
Who stepped close to meet this man,
Said, "Dagda, I am honored to meet you as well,
Since I am descended from Morrigan!"
The Morrigan...Of course; how could I forget,
The Gaunt Battle-Raven of War.
She'd been the wife of the Dagda, whose get,
Were the Morrig...and Ariel Mor.
"This union is momentous indeed,"
Spoke Megan, sounding snide.
"We represent four ages of a powerful breed;
A warrior bloodline steeped with pride."
"Just so..." said Ariel, looking that proud,
"This God and Goddess are descended from me.
I have witnessed CROM's banishment through Time's shroud,
And will marry outside our Morrig family.
When my people are sent to Morrig's Plain,
And lost to the worlds of Man,
My offspring shall on Earth remain,
Shall in time give birth to Ronan.
I went searching for battles far ahead,
And found Theo with my sight;
A sight that can only follow Morrig-bred,
So Megan's words are truer than right."
Last to speak was the Dagda,
Who refused to be outdone,
By Ariel's ancestry to Megan's da,
So claimed kinship to all and one.
"Auspicious indeed, this gathering then,
To let me look down my family tree,
At God and Goddess, our Theo and Megan,
And great seer that's yourself, are descended from me!"
Harumphing, the Dagda faced about,
And grinning, raised his axe to the Host,
Set it whistling, spinning to punctuate his shout.
"We've a new God here to boast!
Let the clans be gathered to this sound,
The song of my axe in flight.
The Champion of Man stands on Danu's ground,
To know who will join His fight!"
A thousand clans at least were there,
and all came forward then,
To hail their names, intentions, they were,
An impressive Host of Men.
Wives and daughters filled ranks as well,
Just as deadly as their male counterparts,
All bowed to Dagda, Myself, Ariel,
But it was Megan Who commanded their hearts.
Megan was a Goddess who stood between,
The mirror worlds of Life and Death,
Who'd died a warrior, was resurrected a Queen,
Over all for which they drew breath.
The uniting of all the families of Man,
Starting here and now.
We would cleanse the worlds of Crom's dread plan,
Of this We made Our vow!
Hosting lasted a while more,
Till all clans had sworn to Me,
To serve Our cause in a final war,
To break CROM and change Man's destiny.
(We must return to the Morrig, Theo.
Will You leave some parting word?
Queen Danu is near and much like Dio,
Is warmed by what She's heard.)
I answered Megan with a smile,
Pulled lightning from the sky,
To strike on swords and spears awhile,
Which the Danaan held up high.
Through mind, (YOUR BLADES ARE CHARGED BY HEAVEN'S FORGE,
TO BARE AN ELEMENTAL STAIN,
OF A BOLT TO DRIVE DOWN CROM'S FOUL GORGE,
THAT HE NEVER FEED AGAIN!)
Aloud, "I go now to free the Morrig,
Who've been kept in thrall to CROM.
All of Danu's Children and the Champion of Man,
Have such stakes in the battle to come!
Queen Danu, You rule within this frame,
On the side of Life and Light.
Will You honor Me Who holds the same,
With Your blessing afore this fight?"
An expectant breath was held by all...
When Her Laughter filled the air.
A gentle breeze, sweet Springtime's call,
Felt by everyone present there.
Her voice in Our minds was Nature's themes,
Birds and leaves, wind, waterfall...
(All men must follow their brightest dreams,
Or on waking stumble and fall.
My blessings upon Your noble cause,
Theo and Megan of Life and Light.
Your dreams are the stars that never pause,
To outshine CROM's darkest night.)
A sunburst spiral grew before Us then,
In shades of amber hue.
(Use this door I have opened to Morrig's Plain,
And know within My gift to You.)
We sent warmest thoughts to the Danaan Queen,
And with Ariel stepped into the light,
Saw lightning strike at what of Orly remained,
Knew We'd skipped back in time a mite.
We'd returned to the instant of Megan's display,
When I'd been appalled at what She might do,
But I had now lost ALL trace of that early dismay,
And with a God's confidence would see something new.
Megan spun about with Her sword held high,
Winked at Me, "Now You'll see what the Morrig can be,"
Noted Ariel in sight, "They'll sweep the sky,
For this one chance to finally be free!"
When that hissing sounded We both looked out,
To accept the Morrig's salute once again.
After the moment passed Megan gave shout,
"You stand before the Champion of Man!
The Bane of CROM has come at last,
To free you from the Dreamer's Realm.
It is Theo, the Godling Man Who has passed,
Out of legend to stand at your helm!"
Three thousand years they'd waited for Me,
Every man, every woman and child.
Three thousand years awaiting destiny,
At long last, a hope...they went wild!
(The day of reckoning?) (...finally come?)
(To confront our darkest Lord?)
(To leave this blasted Hell of CROM's)
(...lay down this bloody sword!)
I wept when hearkening to these hearts,
And sought Megan's hand in Mine,
Then trembled in rage through all of My parts,
for CROM's perverting of something divine.
He meant to depose the Christian God, Dio,
And corrupt the will of all men,
With parlor trick place Me on Earth as Lord Theo,
To fatten His foul larder again.
I sensed curiosity from Ariel,
(Could any God care so for Man?)
But he'd come from the age of CROM's favorite Hell,
Before Christ had come with opened, pierced hand.
The Goddess whispered as My words unfurled,
As I felt them one by one,
Ariston repeated,"God so loved the world,
That He gave His only begotten Son."
"In a way it seems fitting," said Ariel,
That this Dio is the opposite of CROM,
Granting life back from death, Heaven countering Hell,
Returning to the love we came from."
My Bride nodded smiling then turned away,
To address the anxious Horde,
"A mighty weapon is forged this day,
One suitable to My Lord."
Megan raised Her eyes to the farther side,
Of mountains ringing the Morrig's Plain.
Drove a spear of fire through earth which cried,
To render up its molten grain.
From the core of this world came metal dense,
Held aloft by powerful accord,
Of elemental force, strained and tense,
To create the perfect sword.
I watched, impressed, as Megan made,
From this mass a flattened orb,
Spinning madly, contracting was the stuff of My blade.
Tempered by a sun's fire and ice it absorbed.
Quenching and heating at the very same time,
The land was bathed in ethereal light.
A final spin threw off comets in sparks blinding bright,
That the blade now exposed seemed composed of midnight.
"The only hilt for Death's own sword,
Since it's death for CROM You'll be,
Shall be the remains of Your own dear Horde,
Whose souls, back on Earth, You'll also set free.
I call upon three thousand years,
Of the Morrig's honored dead,
Who lie in ground only salted by tears.
We would grant Earth's tender bed!"
The ground came upward beneath the Clans,
As their dead emerged into the light,
To briefly touch a warm cheek or hands,
Or simply stare at a child while in flight.
The press of bodies passed overhead,
To be joined with another, much smaller,
This, the essence of warriors longer dead,
So many souls with little matter to bother.
Megan wrought clouds to conceal what came,
About when both groups were met.
Coalescing all shapes into one and the same,
Then condensing which was grislier yet.
A moment's work in all, I think,
As Megan breathed life into this shape,
But not a sight for mortal eyes to drink,
No, those clouds were a merciful cape.
My sword was joined to the living hilt,
Connected by blood and sinew.
Not a single drop of blood was spilt,
As the blade slipped through the tissue.
A final spell of enchantment,
Megan fed then to the sword,
Which She explained as the clouds were bent,
To allow viewing by the Horde.
"You must call this weapon Achora,
But it's a 'Friend' to You alone.
No man or God may touch Achora,
Without giving up flesh and bone!"
Slowly drifted the sword to Me,
Floating gently above the plain.
The Morrig heard kinsong fleetingly,
And knew their dead now lived again.
This weapon was too large for a normal sized man,
And could not have fit into My hand,
So I assumed the form of My Morrig band,
And then tripled that height again.
Filled out, My body gained density,
Enough mass to counter the sword's.
I grasped lightly at first but then hungrily,
As Achora sang through Me in full chords.
A million voices was Achora's kinsong,
And every one loud and clear.
Three millennia of warriors made a chorus so strong,
That no sound could have passed by My ear.
Her grip adjusted to My left hand,
As Achora's song continued on,
Granting mastery of battle again and again,
Hard, sure experience where I had had none.
I sensed the Horde to be waiting for... what?
Ah, a mortal to go between.
An intimate contact of the Gods,
Someone to speak of ways and means.
This task seemed made for Ariel,
Who could guest with this newer age,
Of the people that had borne him well,
Before being torn from history's page.
I sought out the mind of the Morrig's captain,
And transported him to Our peak,
Called Ariel forth to meet the man,
Who was rather too stunned to speak.
"Know you legends of the Druid-King, Ariel Mor?"
This man, named Brannoc, nodded a sure yes.
"Well, this one, Leader Bran, is himself come to war,
And I think he might work with you best."
I dispatched to the plain both Ariel and Bran,
To forge their places in the battle to come.
Through the rest of the day did they hammer and plan,
For the downfall and destruction of CROM.
When the next day came born in reddened dawn,
I took Megan in My arms.
To gain kisses and promises that once She'd gone,
Through Time's gate to be careful of harm.
"What mortal hand could stay the flight,
Of Mine Own whilst wielding this sword?
Truly, dear Theo, all will be right.
Worry only that I shall be bored."
So saying, the Lady Megan withdrew,
From My embrace and sketched out Her door,
Blowing a last kiss, said, "I'm thinking of You."
Then stepped back to meet with Her killers once more.
Before the Spiral closed completely,
I sent a mental eye along,
The same path to watch over Megan discreetly,
Should anything chance to go wrong.
I peeked as She entered Her earlier form,
Making sure that My eye was set right,
Saw the young girl grow rigid then flushed, looking warm,
As My Megan settled in for Her fight.
She sauntered off to await Her prey,
As I let My straying vision return.
We were both committed now to this day,
And an age about to turn.
I whipped about to face the sun,
Such an angry, pestilent light,
Looked down on tents while from every one,
Burst Morrigan's Children, spoiling to fight.
Achora leaped to My hand of her own,
And added her scream to Mine.
In this song of death was Our threnody sown,
Oh, it sounded hot and fine.
My Keltic Dreamers were eager but stilled,
As they memorized their Champion's song.
For the rest of the day with every new kill,
Would they hurl out its melody strong.
This world's largest spiral gate was made,
When I wrested a drop from the sun.
Before the Morrig it churned where laid,
Till the Dagda and His Danaan rushed out as one.
I spun the gate beside these two,
Sides of the Army of Man,
Forced the spiral to slow and cool,
Closed its gate with a wave of My hand.
With Achora set firmly at My side,
I leapt out into space,
Attained the Earth in a heartbeats glide,
To acquaint the dual Host face to face.
The Morrig were staring in stunned disbelief,
At the Danaan, another race of their own.
My heart swelled so in expectant relief,
As hands reached out, nevermore left alone.
I strode to the center of both families,
And gestured for all to approach Me,
Broadcasted My thoughts, had them all seize,
On the concept of ONE family.
The Dagda and Ariel, after some time went,
Signaled to Me that they were ready.
"Lord Theo," blessed the Dagda "May CROM's sword be bent,
While Yours remains strait and steady!"
Smiling at the Dagda's sentiment,
For it mirrored so My own,
I called up the gate, spun it faster, sent,
It's nether end to open in Hell.
The spiral flared with violet light,
Stretched forward and widened out,
Raising Achora before Me, I called to flight,
The Morrig and Danaan with "CROM!" in a shout.
We rushed headlong past flaming walls,
While I pulled from behind Us more light.
Behind Us trailed a new day to fall,
And fill Crom's Hell that knew only night.
As we exited the spiral I flexed with great might,
And drew forth the Morrig's small sun,
Directed it heavenward to illumine Hell's blight,
And the battle We'd soon see begun.
A warped and twisted world We found,
Was Crom's Hell when seen by day.
Foul creatures crept and stalked aground,
While the sky was filled with winged things of prey.
A single structure caught My eye,
Stood alone on this nightmare plain,
An obsidian fortress, wide and high,
With dimensions and angles insane.
"No doubt the palace of Hell's own lord."
Spoke the Dagda, following My gaze.
"It reflects the way his mind is cored."
I replied, having seen CROM's ways.
I closed the gate behind Us then,
Absorbed its energy directly,
Altered slightly that power, sent it outward again,
To encompass My Host completely.
"I am charging you all with a part of Me,
A touch of Godhood one might say.
No one among you should die weakly,
While any part of Me holds sway.
I asked the captains to order their ranks,
With which the Host swiftly complied.
As We moved ahead with extended flanks,
Twenty thousand and One marched with pride.
We reached a wall of midnight black,
In what seemed two hours of time.
Close inspection confirmed that CROM's home showed a lack,
Of any purpose or rhyme.
A wall made of strands my Host hacked to get in,
But this substance resisted their attack.
I drew forth Achora who sang to her kin,
And lunged at the wall that surprisingly screamed back.
A single hole did Achora tear,
With little resistance at all.
The substance composing this wall felt like hair,
Writhing tresses which still moved, grasping where they fell.
I turned My blade to the side,
Then walked a fair length of the wall,
Separating the strands in an ebony tide,
To make room for one and all.
We stepped across the severed strands,
Found Ourselves in an filthy courtyard.
An enormous area of sorts with stands,
With a floor mosaiced in human shard.
Perceiving more from My vantaged height,
Mine was the first heart to rake over coals,
As I saw that mosaic was small bones, bleached white,
And the background made up of wee infant skulls!
I tripled My size and Achora's,
Leapt back over CROM's wall in rage,
To issue My challenge to the cause,
Of such death, so much pain in this age.
"CROM CRUACH, come face the Champion of Man,
For I've brought the Dreaming Horde!
Your own 'Fierce Warrior' has come to stand...
Astride Your corpse for His reward!"
My challenge was answered immediately,
In the sounds of running men,
Approaching as My Host stood impatiently,
For My word to let the battle begin.
An army of ages came to stand,
Across the courtyard from My own,
Made up of history's most despicable men,
Were CROM's Legion wrought and sown.
Then CROM Himself came ambling out,
To stand among His foul array,
Seeking to cow Me with His pout,
"I have not called for You this day."
CROM's ability to sway Me now was fled,
As His own blood filled My veins.
No enchantment shaped would turn My head,
From the need to view His remains.
"Doddering CROM, Your Bane is come,
Ariel's prophesy must be fulfilled.,
As the Godling Man takes the mantle from,
The dead God who'll now be killed!"
CROM vaulted His legion to spring at Me,
A naked blade growing out of His hand,
(AT LAST!) thought My Host as I said, finally,
"For Mankind!" and the battle began.
Crom's height matched Mine as Our swords clashed,
Though His outline wavered yet.
There were sounds of thunder, lightning flashed,
As Our swords were truly met.
My Host went charging to and fro,
Cutting into the dark legion's ranks,
Then surrounded three sides by retreating so,
As to bring in its outer flanks.
Loud was the sound of Achora's hiss,
As she swept by the nemesis blade.
Her bright flashing arcs led surely My fist,
To wherever the other sword laid.
When I heard Megan's voice call faintly to Me,
I halted Time to an atom's part,
Followed My mental eye hurriedly,
While My sword was being thrust at CROM's heart.
Downward through the spiral track,
And alike parting layers of age,
Ran my vision seeking farther back,
Made the world a suspended page...
Passing the Goddess' call, I spun round,
Found Myself in Megan's Glade.
Six men lay broken on the ground,
While the last one had just lost his blade.
I recognized among them Ronan's five,
Those three with hair black and red.
When last I'd seen this trio alive,
CROM was leaching the color from every head.
The final attacker lay on his back,
With Megan's sword pinned to his chest,
While Her mind sorted through the jumbled tack,
Of his thoughts he only stared at Her wrist.
When She started to scream I let Megan know,
That My mind was there beside Her,
Then looked to see what had started Her so,
Within the thoughts of this lone survivor.
Revealed to Me was the face of CROM,
Speaking words of lust and plunder.
From three days north had come this scum,
Whom the God had spoken to in wonder.
(There is more,) thought Megan, radiating death,
(They killed a girl just yesterday...)
She twisted the Anglic's memory a breath,
And the scene reversed to play...
A Samhain festival and firelight,
A young woman stepping near,
Who was bound and gagged though she tried to fight,
And dragged off in the dark by her hair...
To a deeper wood where, taking turns,
The seven raped the lass,
Then slit her throat while inflicting burns,
As their priests had done in the past.
Mounting up they departed from that scene,
Fled into a red fog ahead,
Grew disoriented as if riding into a dream..
Megan slowly lowered Her head.
(That girl was My mother, was Ronan's Maeve,
Who was slain that Samhain Eve.
These dogs slipped through time as she cooled in her grave,
While for eighteen years Ronan grieved.
Ronan searched so long for sign of them,
At the point where their trail; ran out,
Never knowing that CROM had folded Time's hem,
Oh, he casted for months about.
Sweet Gods, it was all such a clever plan,
First Maeve's death then Mine own,
To gain passage back to the worlds of Man,
By leaving Ronan insane and alone.)
Megan's body was shuddering terribly,
So I eased Her suffering with this,
(Your father shall come this morning to be,
Greeted by his daughter with a kiss!)
It didn't take long for that to sink in,
That history might hold a blank page,
To be rewritten all over again,
Megan's brow grew smooth and sage.
I thought that My life must now be forfeit,
Since My ancestor would not then be born,
From that sprite sent by CROM, Oh, I felt deep regret,
But for Megan's life, willingly, I'd have own page out torn.
Megan knew My thoughts and shook Her head,
(Time cannot touch Us with that paradox.
When We'd come to Godhood, Our mortal reference was shed,
We've ascended beyond Time's ability for locks.)
Much heartened was I to hear of this,
Shedding quickly any feeling of gloom,
Looked down at the Anglic who awaited Death's kiss,
Found he'd fainted from too much doom.
(He's done this before, You know,) I thought,
When an idea came to Me,
(Let's present him to Ronan who surely ought,
To gain some measure from avenging his wife finally.)
Megan's thoughts raced ahead to what this might accomplish,
Pinned with magic his arms at the hips,
Propped him up then awakened the lout with a wish,
Shaped a geis that only truth leave his lips.
She marched the last killer to Ronan's dwelling,
While My eye hovered just above.
I moved back to allow Megan room for the telling,
Of some quick fabrications and hard truths couched in love.
When hoofbeats sounded down the lane,
When Ronan hove into view,
I was minded of My first dream once again,
With a queer sense of deja vu.
Megan greeted Her Da as any girl might,
Who'd been gone for merely a night,
But the hug that She gave him, too fierce and tight,
Made Ronan notice the tear that She swept out of sight.
"What is it, Megan? Is something amiss?"
Ronan asked, looking at Her anew,
So She steeled Herself, gave Her da a fresh kiss,
Said, "There is so much I must needs tell you."
She wove then a tale of being visited by Sidhe,
Who'd granted Her some of their powers,
Then turning quite grave, told the truth about Maeve,
The eighteen years skipped by her killers in hours.
"I've brought the last of the vermin with Me,
To ask what you'd have Me do.
Shall I dispatch the dog most painfully,
Or does his derbfine need collected by you?"
Ronan asked to see Maeve's murderer,
Whom Megan fetched, still under Her spell,
To speak only truth when Ronan questioned after,
The manner of fate to which his Maeve fell.
Ronan grew heated then cooled by degree,
And he was ice through the rest of the telling,
Of Maeve's tragic death, every shuddering breath,
Brought him close to where madness was welling.
When the last words were fallen from the Anglic's spelled lips,
And the truth of Maeve's death finally told,
Both Megan and Ronan clutched the swords at their hips,
But Ronan shook his head and said, sounding old...
"I swear by Dio, bright God high above,
I'll not sully my blade with his life.
Let God punish this one, Sweet Megan, my love.
Soon enough will he stand before God and the wife."
Of the noblest character displayed Ronan Mac Conal,
Who had suffered aplenty through the years,
To raise up his daughter without a mother's model,
And eighteen years worth of nights calling Maeve through his tears.
I simply knew too little of Dio,
To let even one of Maeve's killers go free,
So the God who collected for Megan's mother was Theo,
Who just then felt no great sense of charity.
Megan loosed the bonds constraining the sod,
Who, when released, shot off like a dart.
I paced for two miles then dispatched him to God,
By bidding his body crush its own heart.
Megan's thoughts touched Mine as the corpse touched ground,
(I was Myself coming for that man.
My father is kind but rabid dogs left around,
May return and try biting the merciful hand.
What do We now with My father's new life,
For I fear to abandon him so?)
I gave the only answer that I could to My wife,
(You must stay even as I must go.
I shall stop for a moment every year on this date,
Till your da passes all mortal harms,
Then We'll deliver Ronan personally to Heaven's own gate,
And see him into his Maeve's waiting arms.)
(That does seem to be the only real answer,)
My Megan perforce did agree.
( You play with Time's music and I'll be the dancer,
Aye, We'll reunite after Da finds eternity.)
I played with time to move ahead right,
And the universe started to spin.
A year became moments then seconds in flight,
While Megan's form flickered out and back in.
Her presence grew solid at each longer turn,
As She skipped through a week or three,
But Her longest stay only increased My yearn,
For fleeting kisses that to Us felt barely.
I took hold of a moment not future or past,
At precisely when Megan bade Me,
Found Ronan quite old, on his pallet at the last,
Was heartened to know he'd die gently.
(Theo, be ready to catch his shade...
Oh, damn, this hurt is so great!
I've seen this moment many times and every time paid,
With fresh tears. How I've loved him, of late,)
A shimmering haze formed about Ronan's frame,
As his soul prepared to leap free,
With his last breath expended, stillness came,
As mist rose the essence of Ronan to Me.
Megan helped Me to gather it all,
Till We held in Our two hands,
The entirety of what was still Ronan Mac Conal,
The warrior, the father, the man.
I felt wonder and new found curiosity,
radiating from the soul in my hand.
(Megan, Your father would know what's to be.
So let Us show him what We had planned,
Matching My words to wondrous deed,
Megan and Myself sought change,
To bodies of light whose brilliant speed,
Might attain for Ronan, Heaven's range.
As We pierced the upper shell of life.
I called out Ronan's name in a shout,
To herald Our coming to God and the wife,
A fresh soul coming home on this route.
The stars began to shine brighter,
As We three neared Heaven's gate,
Then We felt Ronan's spirit grow even lighter,
As Our own became featherweight.
We came to land on an ivory shore,
With the slightest hint of motion.
A verdant green glowed Heaven's Door,
And beyond was the greatest ocean...
Of gentle peoples I'll ever see,
Sending their thoughts of love to Me,
To Megan and Ronan who then stepped free,
And stood in youth anew eternally.
Ronan strode into the parting mass,
Was welcomed as a son who'd come home,
Sighted before him a sweet smiling lass,
Whose eyes, brimmed with tears, were a shade of sea-foam.
This angel was Maeve, both mother and wife,
Of all that I now held dear.
Who had waited for ages after CROM took her life,
Till We filled a blank page to bring Ronan here.
We waved Our farewell to the two reunited,
Turned about to be on Our way,
With two deaths averted, Ronan's Passage had righted,
As CROM would learn When we'd taken the day.
We sped away from Heaven's Gate,
To meet with destiny in Hell,
Then heard together the voice of God state,
(MY BLESSINGS GO WITH YOU AS WELL.)
Through Time's twisting corridor We sought,
To reach a fateful moment halted.
Megan arrived before I got,
To then and waited, exalted.
With Achora firmly in My grasp,
I released Time once again,
Felt metal strike and sparking rasp,
As CROM deflected where I'd struck back when.
Megan, standing before CROM's hall,
Was once more the Goddess True,
Held aloft Her sword, saluted all,
Then laid deft strokes about Her too.
I was following closely CROM's attack,
But had a mind to glance around,
So set some mental eyes in back,
Of Myself and quickly found...
That CROM's legion had nearly doubled in size,
Though so many of His lay aground.
I was startled an instant by this nasty surprise,
When a group of My own Host went down.
The oddest sensation stole over me,
As each Morrig or Danaan was killed,
A split second only of lethargy,
Then with a greater strength was I filled.
My warriors, once dead were being reborn,
Jumping up with their weapons of war,
The power of death over them had been torn,
When I'd shared of Myself that while before.
I'd only sought to lend them strength,
But my spell had quite gone awry,
In this wondrous way to expand the length,
And power of life to all who might die.
I had a fair suspicion then,
That this must be the Glory of God,
A new life given as old lives end,
Going on to more than sod.
All of the knowledge and power,
Of the Dagda and Ariel Mor,
Rendered CROM's legion more ragged by the hour,
In ways unknown to modern war.
The Dagda possessed such awesome might,
That a battering ram was his mace,
Single swings of which took twenty men from the fight,
And retired them also from the living race.
Ariel and Brannoc were somewhat more subtle,
And it was hard to sense this weird thing,
Which kept spinning around Ariel all through the battle,
Megan called it...a faerie ring?
Brannoc's Morrig fought in a great u-shaped rim,
With Ariel at its precise center,
Who welcomed dark soldiers to come try to strike him,
But that ring devoured all like CROM handled dinner.
What glorious havoc We were wrecking,
On the forces of Evil Night,
Each man of Ours, fallen, rose stronger, striking,
Outmatching whatever CROM brought to this fight.
Megan showered beauty and death all around,
Making poetry while swinging about Her,
And seeming more lightning, she scarce touched the ground,
Cutting down vicious foes hard to number.
I wished then that all of the Gods could see,
The powerful stand these warriors were making,
Not just for themselves but all Humanity,
By felling a God who thought Earth for the taking.
I felt a strong presence about Me then,
And dread CROM's eyes widened also,
As such a number of beings materialized in,
To hover around Our show.
A few were trying to leave again,
When I recognized with a start,
That these were Gods like Myself and Megan,
or even CROM who stabbed at My heart.
I parried his blade while seeking One,
To explain how this had happened,
That so many Gods had heard and come,
To witness Our battle's end.
Danu's voice rang out to say,
Across the minds of All and Any,
(Did You make the spell which pulled astray,
And brought the likes of Gods so many?)
All I'd done was shape the words.
But I never uttered it.
How could My wish have brought these Herds,
Who now seemed in a snit?
Dio caught My thought and laughed,
(Strange Theo, do You not know,
That to do this thing should at least have halved,
The powers that within You flow?)
I still was lost to what They meant,
As I beat at Crom's defense,
For He'd kept swinging and seemed near spent,
While I felt Achora tense.
She knew the second before I did,
That CROM's luck had finally flown.
He repeated a move past which she slid,
And bit into His shoulder bone.
He couldn't die from mortal blows,
But still, CROM was shaken badly,
Then dropped His sword and faced the rows,
Of Gods while and giggling madly.
Achora struggled within My hand,
Seeking CROM in His unsteady mirth,
So I stilled her with the promise of burial land,
For her million souls back on Earth.
In the blink of an eye, CROM disappeared,
While throwing back His voice to All,
"You fools, I've still Ronan's Passage, cleared,
Through the Milk God, Dio's Wall!"
I looked to Megan Who wore a grin,
At the thought of CROM hitting the wall,
When She sprang to My side, CROM reappeared, pinned,
By Our swords though He'd curled in a ball.
I raised My fist to gather bolts,
Watched a storm rage round My hand,
Then hurled a rain of deadly jolts,
Into what Legion might still stand.
I now had time to find the sense,
In what Danu and Dio had spoken,
So asked of Them while the other Gods tensed,
What rules of Godhood I had broken.
"There are no rules to Godhood, Theo."
Queen Danu spoke first to assure Me.
"It is that you've become an equal to Dio,
To Myself and these Others so quickly!
You never thought that a God could have limits,
And didn't limit Yourself unwitting,
You imagination is a wellspring of infinites,
And we fear what You might see as fitting."
Those other Gods nodded gravely,
Which, in truth, gave Me some fright,
But Megan took My hand and thought bravely,
(The Champion of Man can set this right!)
I took a deep breath and then another,
Said, "I once was a simple man,
Who believed that a stranger could be made a brother,
If only offered Our hearts and a hand.
I wish You All could see with Me,
Then this vision I would follow,
To free Man from his dark destiny,
And in forgiving, gain a brighter tomorrow,"
The Gods all around remained silent,
And I supposed that They didn't agree,
But then Danu smiled gently, (Their own limits have bent,
For I sense in Them all harmony!)
Dio nodded to confirm it was so,
Said, "For ages I've worked toward this goal,
But without quite the power that Your wishes show,
For Yourself with that Champion's soul.
The Morrig and Danaan began cheering for Me,
Themselves reborn in the Battle for Man.
Each one passed now before Me, dropped weapon, briefly touched Me,
To signal their readiness for the new task at hand...
The forging of a better race of Man,
One that would never again need for war.
As I opened a new gate to forever stand.
Something nagged at Me for a second or more...
So I dissipated the being of CROM,
Added part of Myself to it too,
Sent this energy back out to encompass Everyone,
Granting greater imagination to whatever They'll do.
It was time to leave the plane of Hell.
I gathered up My Host,
Bid the Gods return to Their Own and fare well,
And gave Megan a kiss with My most.
A fleeting thought passed through My head,
Of how this all had started,
With the remnants of a strange dream, still in bed...
WHEN THE UNIVERSE RIPPED AND PARTED!
My name is Theo MacConnell,
And I've been having the strangest dreams,
For the last three nights I've lain in a pall,
And now nothing is what it seems.
For instance, this brooch I found in my hand,
As I awakened this morning,
Or the cross that I'd left on the dressing stand,
Which flew to me without warning.
The world appears to've matured overnight,
In the time I've spent slumbering so,
For the papers say not a single fight,
Has broken out anywhere in the world.
There are quite a few new politicians about,
Who all go by the name of Morrigan,
In fact, one's a senator that recently came out,
To say he's running for president.
A new neighbor has moved in next door,
A young man who dropped by for a spell,
This morning we had coffee. Ariston Lyndon Moore,
But he asked me to simply call him Ari L.
So many changes in only three days,
And a dream whose many pieces don't fit.
This brooch seems involved in some mysterious way...
I wonder if my girlfriend, Megan would like it?
I am sitting before my typewriter now,
And a small verse keeps running through my head.
It's familiar to me but I cannot say how.
Is it something that I might have read?
"...From the dream of a dream,
Thence to wake with a start,
Something slips in between,
That no dream can impart..."
THE END?
and 
all
time for me 
echoes, hope you all are doing well 
