Posted by AlOmega on July 09, 2004 at 18:51:26:
The Sidhe (pronounced shee), who are part of my people’s own origins, are considered to be a distinct race, quite separate from human beings yet who have had little contact with mortals lately. That was not as true over the past centuries, and there are many documented testimonies to support this. Belief in this race of beings who have powers beyond those of men - even to the possibility of moving quickly through the air and changing their shape at will once played a huge part in the lives of people living in rural Ireland and Scotland - indeed the entire Celtic peoples which at that time included most of Northern Europe. There are some ruminants of the Sidhe in Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. However, they are few in this age for they do not have as many children as humans.
The Sidhe are indeed opal colored and at one time were taller than mankind. That is no longer true. I should say that much of my knowledge comes from Morgan who taught me long ago in New Orleans. I may visit the land of fairy that seems to still be alive in the forests and glens of Old Places in the Isles of England. It was for that reason I felt that there should exist a link - albeit nebulous - between myself and the gwrach y Rhibyn which translates loosely from the Welch as “Witch of Rhibyn” or sometimes as Cyhyraith. However she was and is none of that breed. This being is more akin to that of spirit rather than of mortality. And she speaks a language unlike anything I have heard before. Moreover, she has power - perhaps great power. I do not know whether I shall survive this night or not. However, I realize that I must have because I am writing what I felt at that time. ‘Tis an amusing concept however.
Mystique, with Tooth beside her, led the party of mortals, the illithid, and godlings down the passage to a point where the route emptied into a murky cloud of nebulosity that seemed to go on forever. Behind frozen in time were a sleeping Marty - now fully human - and the . Coyote was maintaining that time bubble about them
“I see it hasn’t changed,” said Veilrozz, “and I still can’t get through. It does look easy; however,…”. She left the rest unsaid.
Mystique wasn’t opposed to accepting the challenge; however, she was not above taking precautions. Removing a few powders from her bag, she approached the quivering gate gingerly. A sensation of cold assaulted her once she neared the barrier-gate. With intense foreboding, Mystique looked deep within the miasma. Suddenly, gazing back at her were malevolent red eyes within the face of what she initially thought to be a beautiful woman but who’s visage changed rapidly to that of an elven hag. Wizened skin stretched tight over angular bones, and long strands of hair now writhed like a tangle of serpents in the churning gate-soup. Clawlike hands extended from the swirling mists, reaching with deadly purpose toward her.
Mystique leaped back, her powders falling from her nimble fingers, as the banshee burst halfway from the changing shadows that reached to the top of the widening cavern.
“Magic you all have, and magic I crave - but the living may not pass,” the spirit hissed, striking like a wildcat attempting to grasp its prey.
Mystique endeavored to cast another spell; however, before she did, she received a clear vision of this creature - an elven creature trapped in the other world, unable to leave. This elf had turned to evil for some reason before becoming a banshee. Mystique remembered a witch’s recollection of another such undead creature. At one time a great magician in China had strove to learn every spell in every land. In order to do so, he also had turned to evil. However, being a magician rather than of witch-kind, he had a limited, albeit a long, life. As he was nearing his two hundredth year, he felt death about to take him to places he had never been. To avoid this, he had preserved himself after death by permitting himself to die. This was a powerful magic that no witch would ever do for this was not only an evil spell but forced the person casting it to remain among the undead. Unlike a vampire, however, this evil-dead could continue to learn magic. Yet it was now even worse than a vampire. It (for a person doing this was no longer human) was called a lich. Although they could be killed, it was a process that Mystique thought might be beyond her so turning to Sam and the godlings, she told them of her concerns.
“I don‘t know of any being that can pass this creature.”
The illithid, Veilrozz, spoke up. “Iskors and nereids can pass if what you say is true. They are beyond the banshee’s magic. Elementals may do this also. But why do you ask this silly thing when you have at your disposal this creature which you continually call, Tooth.”
Suddenly another voice was heard from the cavern behind them.
“Daughter, we should talk.”
Mystique recognized the voice and hurried through the passage to the cavern beyond. A woman stood waiting. Her tresses, which changed color as she moved, reached her waist. Other than a pendant, she wore only a light blue dress without adornment and slippers of silver. She accepted Mystique’s nod as they clasped fingertips.
“Sam left the side open and I felt your need, daughter so I came.”
Mystique turned to the others exiting the tunnel. “Everyone, this is the true gwrach y Rhibyn. However, though she is the sidhe Witch of Rhibyn. However to me, she’s simply, Karin.”
“Ah, yes. Coyote. I have seen you long ago when you traveled to see the Sons of Odin. It has been a long time.”
Coyote bowed saying, “And I welcome you to this land that I rule, Rhibyn. However, I do not remember seeing you in that foreign land. And surely I would have remembered such a beauty as you.”
Karin’s laugh was like tiny tinkling bells. She composed herself adding, “You are so like Loki. If you weren’t cousins, I would think of you as brothers. You both even think you rule the lands wherein you reside. Oh, foolish godling. Even we Sidhe do not claim that which is older than we. For that matter we do not control the humans of these lands. We aid and assist wherever we may - although sometimes we do not. Like you, our reasons are our own.”
Coyote was both intrigued and irritated at what she said. However only a godling (or perhaps a witch) would have noticed.
Karin continued, “Mystique and I have worked together for more than sixty years. We found each other in what the locals call the Black Forest. Although sidhe, I am akin to that which lies beyond. I am a banshee. However the true sidhe Celtic banshee - of which I am only one - are not the cause of death nor do we wish for anyone’s demise. The human writings are sadly not true in all respects. However we are not offended. Rather, we do what we must to guide and guard this world from the incursions of those beings who worship The Beast. You remember THAT one,” she added with a smile. She knelt down slightly to scratch Tooth behind the ears.
“Interesting that you have kept and acknowledged this sidhe pet.”
“I don’t know you nor this ‘Tooth’, said the illithid. “Whatever a ‘sidhe’ is, I shudder in your presence.”
Karin smiled slightly before looking at Veilrozz. “I have seen your kind as well although that has been a long time ago. I traveled the winds to a plane whereon your kind lived. You fought those that lived there then. Your kind fights them now. Moreover it was because of your anger and superiority that you were forced deep into the caverns of the Underdark. However, I do not bring that up here to offend. Rather I suggest you assist your kind in a campaign toward goodness and humility. However, I am not so positive that your kind will ever change.”
Mystique knew she had not spoken of the winds of the earth or any plane of earth. She whispered her thoughts to Sam and Naomi before interrupting.
“I think Coyote and friends understand such things about you, Karin. They are not so ignorant as not to know of the winds,” said Mystique. “What I want to know is why you’ve come?”
“Why, young Mystique, I have come to smooth the path for this creature called an illithid. We will all need to cooperate. That is paramount. And we should start now. Sam, we need not song nor sand. Mystique, we need not powder nor candle. Nor do we need your kind words of love and spirit, Naomi. Yes, I knew your name for you have been written among the ancients even as has Sam and Mystique.” Turning toward the godlings, she continued. “Coyote, Grey One, and lonely Gransh, you must watch to keep that which is evil from traveling into this world. I will contain it in the Gate. However when we begin the binding to bind the skragling to the walls of its tomb, there is a strong possibility that she will pass beyond our holdings into the recesses of this world. You know how to stop this and can. And you must.”
“And while we hold the skragling, the banshee as you say, you must enter the gate and return to your world. There is no possibility for you to travel via the gate with your loom, however. You must leave that here. It is a small price to pay, is it not?”
Reluctantly, the illithid agreed.
“Then we are all ready save for the servant called Marty. He also must remain in stasis. That is correct as well.”
So Karin led the party back through the tunnel to where the mist began once more. As the hag once again reached out to claw her way to freedom, Karin clasped its hands within hers and forced her back. Mystique and Sam were at her sides helping her control the banshee.
“Go,” called out Karin. The illithid wasted no time but walked quickly into the swirling mist. As she vanished, Karin clasped the banshee to herself. For a few moments both seemed to shudder. Then almost with a sigh, both vanished.
The nebulous mists began thinning until the party could see down the passage once more. No where was there a gate into another world.
Coyote’s shoulders drooped for a moment before he straightened.
“So where is she?”
“She has gone on with her foe who has perhaps become her friend. I know not this even though my ancestors worshiped such as her. Karin is still alive I feel. She may be walking the winds once more. One can never tell. Cannot you sense this?”
“No, I cannot. Whatever she was…is..oh, whatever, she’s pretty powerful for someone that isn’t a god or godling.”
Mystique smiled knowing Coyote would never understand.
“Since the danger’s past, it’s time for us to go,” he said summarily vanishing. The Grey One who had remained silent, remained.
‘She does still exist, witch Mystique. I feel that she does.” So saying, he and the other godling vanished as well.
As they did this, Marty began to stir. “What’re we doing here? What’s been going on?”
Sam took the groggy Marty in hand and guided him outside to his bed. Only Naomi remained with Mystique.
“So what DID happen, Mystique?”
“Only what you saw and a bit beyond. However after we talk with Sam some and head back north, I think it’s about time we talked about rune and candle rather than about song and sand. It is one thing to be a sand witch and another to be Celtic.
Here I'll add that I've got at least another idea or two for more witch stories. Perhaps this is not the end of the adventures of Mystique and Tooth after all...
AlOmega