Post by aquarianstar on Oct 16, 2005 10:40:05 GMT -5
Yea, yea, another Irish legend 
It was a sad day for Fionn Mac Cumhail. He was leaving his home of many years. He was packed and ready and had everything he needed, food, his sling and sword. Now he had to say goodbye to the wise women who had cared for him since he was very young, so far back that he could not remember. As he waved goodbye to them and to Sliabh Bloom, his old home, his heart was heavy in his chest. But he was excited too. He was about to embark on the journey that would determine the rest of his life a journey that would teach lessons, bring wisdom. He was headed out to the Boyne River, and he thought he could see it sparkle on the faraway hills. He set off.
When he finally arrived he was tired and weary, his feet were blistered and sore. He met his future mentor on the banks, and told him who he was. Finneagas had been expecting him. It was from him that Fionn would learn the ways of a true man, wisdom and mercy and to see beauty in all that surrounded him. He would also learn how to craft words in beautiful ways, to shape them into the form of poetry. After his teaching and training was complete, Fionn could claim his rightful place as the chief of the Fianna. The Fianna were an elite band of warriors who guarded and protected the high King of Tara. Finneagas was happy to see him, and brought him in straight away. Fionn slept well.
Fionn was a good student. Over many weeks, Finneagas taught Fionn amazing and wonderful things, showed him things that made his jaw drop in awe. He taught him of nature, and how to respect it. He told him to watch how the birds flew in the skies, free. Fionn would watch for hours. However, there was one thing that Finneagas never told Fionn. Every day, Finneagas fished in the Boyne, and every day Fionn asked why? They had plenty to eat. Finneagas kept his secret well. He knew the old lore. It said that there was such a salmon as the salmon of knowledge. Whoever tasted this salmon first would have untold wisdom, incredible foresight and would be the greatest of all men. Finneagas wanted this for himself. He had tried every way he could think of to catch the salmon, but to no avail.
One day, in the sweet month of May, Fionn, who sat writing as Finneagas had taught him, heard a shout of glee. It was Finneagas. He had caught a salmon. Fionn rushed eagerly to help him get it ashore. It was a salmon unlike any that Fionn had ever seen. Was it the sun, or did it glisten in the seven colours of the rainbow all by itself? And it was so big. Fionn had never seen Finneagas so unburdened and happy. He wondered at his joy, but let it slip his mind.
Finneagas was tired. The fishing had taken a lot out of the poet. So he asked Fionn to cook it, but warned him many times not to taste it or eat any. Fionn asked why but the old man said he would soon explain, just not now. He went to rest and told Fionn to call him when it was ready.
Obediently, Fionn made up a fire and set the salmon to cook. It smelt delicious and Fionn was very tempted, but remembered what his mentor had said. He decided to write while he waited.
Soon enough though, Fionn saw a great blister come onto the salmon as a result of the fire beneath it. It swelled larger and larger, and Fionn burst it with his thumb. He yelled. He had burnt his thumb and now it throbbed painfully. He quickly stuck it in his mouth to ease the pain. From that moment, Fionn knew his life had changed. As he sucked on his thumb, he heard songs and cries, voices of Kings; he had visions of what he knew to be epic battles, somehow. He removed his thumb from his mouth. It no longer hurt.
Soon enough, the salmon was cooked. Finneagas was about to take a bite, but suddenly he caught a brightness in Fionn’s eyes that wasn’t there before. He saw the spark of knowledge within him, and pressed him to tell him what had happened. Fionn told him. Finneagas was greatly disappointed, but he knew that what was planned, was planned. Fate would have it’s way, and it had laid a hand of love on Fionn that day. He gave the salmon to Fionn and told him to eat. He told him of the old stories, and that he could not teach him anything that he did not already know now.
To become a warrior in the Fianna, there were three tests. The first was to leap over a branch that was as high as his head. The next was to run through a forest so lightly that not a twig would snap nor a bird call or leaves flutter to the ground. The last was to ward of nine armed warriors in a round pit, with just a wooden staff. He had to make this promise-
To guard the right and prevent wrongdoing.
To fight those who attack the land.
Always to help the poor and needy.
Purity in our heart; strength in our limbs;
truth on our lips.
Fionn made this promise and soon became the great chief of the Fianna, and the army was it’s greatest and noblest under his reign.
Sarah Darcy. (yeah, this one, I wrote Jasper)
It was a sad day for Fionn Mac Cumhail. He was leaving his home of many years. He was packed and ready and had everything he needed, food, his sling and sword. Now he had to say goodbye to the wise women who had cared for him since he was very young, so far back that he could not remember. As he waved goodbye to them and to Sliabh Bloom, his old home, his heart was heavy in his chest. But he was excited too. He was about to embark on the journey that would determine the rest of his life a journey that would teach lessons, bring wisdom. He was headed out to the Boyne River, and he thought he could see it sparkle on the faraway hills. He set off.
When he finally arrived he was tired and weary, his feet were blistered and sore. He met his future mentor on the banks, and told him who he was. Finneagas had been expecting him. It was from him that Fionn would learn the ways of a true man, wisdom and mercy and to see beauty in all that surrounded him. He would also learn how to craft words in beautiful ways, to shape them into the form of poetry. After his teaching and training was complete, Fionn could claim his rightful place as the chief of the Fianna. The Fianna were an elite band of warriors who guarded and protected the high King of Tara. Finneagas was happy to see him, and brought him in straight away. Fionn slept well.
Fionn was a good student. Over many weeks, Finneagas taught Fionn amazing and wonderful things, showed him things that made his jaw drop in awe. He taught him of nature, and how to respect it. He told him to watch how the birds flew in the skies, free. Fionn would watch for hours. However, there was one thing that Finneagas never told Fionn. Every day, Finneagas fished in the Boyne, and every day Fionn asked why? They had plenty to eat. Finneagas kept his secret well. He knew the old lore. It said that there was such a salmon as the salmon of knowledge. Whoever tasted this salmon first would have untold wisdom, incredible foresight and would be the greatest of all men. Finneagas wanted this for himself. He had tried every way he could think of to catch the salmon, but to no avail.
One day, in the sweet month of May, Fionn, who sat writing as Finneagas had taught him, heard a shout of glee. It was Finneagas. He had caught a salmon. Fionn rushed eagerly to help him get it ashore. It was a salmon unlike any that Fionn had ever seen. Was it the sun, or did it glisten in the seven colours of the rainbow all by itself? And it was so big. Fionn had never seen Finneagas so unburdened and happy. He wondered at his joy, but let it slip his mind.
Finneagas was tired. The fishing had taken a lot out of the poet. So he asked Fionn to cook it, but warned him many times not to taste it or eat any. Fionn asked why but the old man said he would soon explain, just not now. He went to rest and told Fionn to call him when it was ready.
Obediently, Fionn made up a fire and set the salmon to cook. It smelt delicious and Fionn was very tempted, but remembered what his mentor had said. He decided to write while he waited.
Soon enough though, Fionn saw a great blister come onto the salmon as a result of the fire beneath it. It swelled larger and larger, and Fionn burst it with his thumb. He yelled. He had burnt his thumb and now it throbbed painfully. He quickly stuck it in his mouth to ease the pain. From that moment, Fionn knew his life had changed. As he sucked on his thumb, he heard songs and cries, voices of Kings; he had visions of what he knew to be epic battles, somehow. He removed his thumb from his mouth. It no longer hurt.
Soon enough, the salmon was cooked. Finneagas was about to take a bite, but suddenly he caught a brightness in Fionn’s eyes that wasn’t there before. He saw the spark of knowledge within him, and pressed him to tell him what had happened. Fionn told him. Finneagas was greatly disappointed, but he knew that what was planned, was planned. Fate would have it’s way, and it had laid a hand of love on Fionn that day. He gave the salmon to Fionn and told him to eat. He told him of the old stories, and that he could not teach him anything that he did not already know now.
To become a warrior in the Fianna, there were three tests. The first was to leap over a branch that was as high as his head. The next was to run through a forest so lightly that not a twig would snap nor a bird call or leaves flutter to the ground. The last was to ward of nine armed warriors in a round pit, with just a wooden staff. He had to make this promise-
To guard the right and prevent wrongdoing.
To fight those who attack the land.
Always to help the poor and needy.
Purity in our heart; strength in our limbs;
truth on our lips.
Fionn made this promise and soon became the great chief of the Fianna, and the army was it’s greatest and noblest under his reign.
Sarah Darcy. (yeah, this one, I wrote Jasper)
these because all of this Irish lingo makes my lips fall off my face while me teeth zig like I've just eaten the worlds biggest and sweetest chocolate bar!
and 
all
time for me 
echoes, hope you all are doing well 
