deepundergroundpoetry.com
Otherworldly Memories Part VI: The Demon's Daughter
- Otherworldly Memories Part VI: The Demon's Daughter -
For the first time in generations, there was no longer any threat from the Fir Bolg tribes... who having lost their king during their great war against the combined forces of both the Tuatha de Danann and the Fomor, at last agreed to the terms of the two kingdoms they had gone against. Now the Fir Bolg did no longer pursue war, and their warriors and soldiers mostly joined the ranks of the Fomor. But not one of their kindred would join with the children of Dana, and this dismayed the Tuatha de Danann greatly. It was likely out of a feeling of guilt that the Fir Bolg felt, over having begun their hopelessly savage war by committing acts of aggression all along the border of the lands once ruled over by king Nuada, who had now given up his throne in favor of the half Fomorian nobleman Bres, who had become a hero of great renown and distinction during the final battles against the Fir Bolg. Many secretly wondered, if it boded ill that the Fir Bolg sought to join now with the Fomor during a time when a half Fomorian was ruling over the lands of the Tuatha de Danann... but because peace prevailed in all the lands of Eriu, it proved fruitless to ponder too deeply upon such matters. As well, the Fir Bolg had been nearly driven to extinction due to their heavy losses during the war, both militarily and as a people. Thus was it deemed, that their threat was ended, which it was. Nuada felt bitter as time went on though, and burned deep in his heart to once more become the High King of the children of Dana despite the law that prevented his doing so. For it was said that none who had so much as a blemish could rule over the Tuatha de Danann and Nuada had far more than a blemish! His right arm was severed by the Fir Bolg champion Bres, and it had been replaced later on with a mechanical arm crafted from a powerful silver-like alloy. All of his peoples celebrated the great hero Nuada Silverhand, and yet none of them would have him as their king any longer. For they were bound by a shallow tradition that exalted physical perfection over what was in a person's heart and soul. And thus did the heart and soul of Nuada turn from light to darkness due to that tragic fact. He remained apart from all of the gatherings and councils of his folk, and would not any longer meet with me at Tara, where I reigned as the High King of the Fomor at the side of my wife the beautiful and wise Kar'mila Crom-Cruach, whom I affectionately called Kaitlin. In my kingdom, those of my folk were pleased with our rule and celebrated our victory over the Fir Bolg every year upon the anniversary of the day and month upon which it was won. The druids, of course, kept track of such and saw to the celebrations when the time for them came around again. This leads us to the events to follow.
Nine months passed after the night when I returned to Tara from the north and lay in love with Kaitlin like never before, giving myself over to her wholly at long last as The Morrgian had advised me to, and as I myself had longed to. But the ghost of Deirdre had haunted me within my heart previous to that. On many evenings I thought I saw her walking about the halls of Tara but looking like a little girl. I always dismissed this as a residual of my pain at having lost her so long ago when first we came to Eriu. But it was all too real, the apparition, for when I looked upon it with my third eye's enhanced abilities of sight then it was that I could indeed see Deirdre's spirit quite clearly. The Morrigan had told me that she was in a state of bliss, in the realms of the blessed beyond the cares of this world. Yet, evidently, something brought her back to this world still! The apparition was only sighted by me during the first month or so after I had lain with Kaitlin so intensely, and as my wife's pregnancy became increasingly evident... the haunting seemed to cease and the spirit of Deirdre seemed to have gone away. The Morrigan had been my advisor and my voice in the land, ever since she came to me at the tower and revealed unto me her true identity as the ancient death goddess known as Lilith. And whenever I asked her about what I had seen regarding Deirdre's ghost, she would say to me only that I need not worry. “She is well, fear not! I would say that she is in the best shape that she had been, since before her death.” and her words were a cryptic riddle that I knew she would not give me a direct answer for. But something about them deeply concerned me. After the nine months mentioned previously passed, my wife gave birth to our daughter.
The girl was named by her mother... and the name she was given was Ethniu. I saw her birth as a true miracle, for I had been convinced that, due to my hermaphroditic condition, I could not father a child... but The Morrigan had promised that this would come to pass, and so did all transpire exactly as she did foretell. I asked her of this, wondering, and begged the pale death goddess to explain it to me. And, she replied unto me: “It is well that you ask! The answer to this riddle, the riddle of your daughter's birth, is a simple one. When you were transformed by the scientist who augmented your body... and made it the way that it is now... he augmented you also in other ways than are immediately evident upon one's first glance. Need I say it outright? He fixed it, so that you could father a child after all. You know... he fixed your... well, you get the idea.” and I knew what she meant by her words. “So now you won't be able to around taking lovers as you please, unless of course you want more offspring!” she cautioned me. And this made me glad to hear, for it meant that my body's enhancements were good for more than just war and matters of the occult. I could create a life now, as much as take a life. And as far as I knew, the days of war and death were behind us now. Bres was proving to be a wise and enlightened ruler for his folk, and my own people regarded me as their savior for having delivered our kingdom from the Fir Bolg not just once, but twice. Even with our longer lifespans... we of the Elvish races still grew up fairly fast. It did not seem long before baby Ethniu had passed through a happy, delightful childhood into a spitfire of a young girl. The years passed blissfully for her, and for we who were her family, and on the year of her fourteenth birthday that is when we began to notice changes in her personality. She once, at the supper table, asked me in the great dining hall of Tara: “Father, have you ever been called 'sweet leaf' before?” and I went pale, for that was Deirdre's pet name for me. I said to her: “Yes, daughter. But it has been a very long time, since anyone called me that.” she then waited until her mother was out of the room. And she placed her hand upon my thigh and whispered unto me: “Then it is time I called you so once again, sweet leaf!” and in her eyes the spirit of Deirdre shone like light to me. I went to The Morrgian and did ask of her: “Goddess! I would know something, ere I think myself mad... or my daughter mad... is she, is young Ethniu, in fact the reincarnation of poor dead Deirdre?” and the air was very dark in the lower chambers of mighty Tara where the great shrine of The Morrigan had been at that time set up... and over which she herself did preside in place of any high druid of the kingdom. That death goddess was pale, her skin chalk white... and her black eyes with no white in them whatsoever had not any mirth within them on this occasion. Black was her attire, black was her lipstick, and many said that black was her heart and soul as well. It was not in her nature to jest, and her long straight black hair cascaded down her back like a curtain of ebony night, a night without any stars or moon. She was frightful to look upon and yet I loved her. She was my lover on the side, and had been my most ancient of all lovers. I knew if she was serious and if she was not. She had just finished an animal sacrifice, that of a large bull, and in the moment in which she washed her hands within the water basin set up for that purpose near the altar that right now was stained and spattered with gore, she said unto me: “Yes, Balor! She is Deirdre. But... she is also your daughter now, and so you two cannot be together as once you were able to.” and I did remind her of the words of her prophecy that once she had spoken unto me. “Dark goddess, though it is a fact that you do not lie... did you not tell me once that my firstborn daughter would one day also bear a child, and that through that child I would be reunited with Deirdre? How can this come to pass, if she herself is Deirdre reborn!” And the embodiment of death looked upon me grimly as she said: “The girl at present has two spirits, two souls within her body. One is Deirdre, and one is herself. I have foreseen that the spirit of Deirdre shall dwell within her form until the birth of her first child, which shall in that time be a son. Upon the birth of her son, the spirit of Deirdre shall depart for the realms of the blessed, and there she will once more await you faithfully. Her son will become the instrument of your demise... so now you know why I was hesitant to tell you all that I knew. It is through your death, that you shall in the end be reunited with Deirdre in bliss. Though that bliss will pass! You will both be reborn again.”
I became greatly depressed following the prophecy that the goddess of death had revealed unto me. I told no one of it, not my wife and certainly not my daughter. I looked at Ethniu one day, and could not help but notice that she had become very beautiful. She was fourteen years old now, and rather short for an Elvish maiden of those years. She would not become very tall when she reached adulthood. In many ways she was not very much like Deirdre had been at all... and yet, she was. Her skin was well tanned in the same way as her mother Kaitlin. And her hair was a strawberry blonde that was a combination of my blonde hair color and her mother's red hair color. The young girl, had sparkling green eyes just like mine had once been... before my eyes had been replaced with mechanical ones. Her face was round and she seemed always to be smiling, her lips full and moist. She had an aquiline nose just like me, and her eyes were almond shaped. She had an hourglass figure just like her mother, and I could not help but so admire the beauty of her breasts and hips and how they looked when she moved. I knew it was wrong, she was my daughter after all, but she would smile at me like Deirdre had once smiled... licked her lips a little when she did so, and winked at me. And I knew that it was Deirdre... and not Ethniu, doing this. Her mother pretended not to notice, and I pretended not to care. For almost a year, we all acted as if not a thing had changed in our lives. It was autumn soon enough, and the summer season had come and so gone whilst the leaves of the trees began to change colors. I had hired the best tutors for the education of my daughter, all female so they could be trusted alone with her. And over the years prior to this one, when she turned fourteen, she had become very intelligent, wise, and gracious. Her manners were good and her sense of humor was even better! She could make me laugh when no one else was able to. I did once say unto her: “Ethniu, my dear! I should honestly make you my court jester, and behead the one I have now.” and I was joking about beheading him. But in a dark moment, she said to me seriously: “I would like to see that very much, father! Would you behead him for me, if I asked you to?” and I went quite a bit paler than my naturally light skin tone when she said that. I stammered a bit before asking of her: “Child, I... would you really want me to do such a thing? He has never done a thing against me. I was merely jesting with you.” to which she laughed hysterically before stating: “Oh my gods! Father, oh father, it was merely a joke I was telling... a dark joke, but merely a jest all the same.” and I wondered if it was indeed a jest with her, or not. She had to have inherited a bit of my innate darkness, and though I convinced myself that I had it under control... I knew it was still there, deep inside of me, like a serpent coiled and ready to strike. I prayed to the dark goddess herself that it never would strike again. But now I needed to fear that the darkness would find a new and more terrible host in my child. And I was afraid.
The season of Samhain was upon the land, and the druids went out to scour the countryside, in search of animals and people to sacrifice to their gods. Often... they would choose criminals who were about to be executed for their crimes anyway. For crimes were still committed even in an era of peace and plenty and the dungeons and prisons of the land had many of them to spare for the Samhain sacrifices. Also, a sad truth is that aside form convicted criminals there were many volunteers for the roles of sacrifices. In every case where it was a volunteer, those chosen from such were picked specifically because they were tired of life and wished to pass into the realms beyond. Oft it was the old or infirm, those who suffered from illnesses and conditions that were so advanced or afflictions so terrible that they had no chance of ever recovering. It was this, or the remainder of their shortened lives in pain and torment. So this was to them an act of mercy that was seen as a blissful way for them to pass on. There were always more, who were willing, than those who were taken from among the condemned. And that saddened me to see. It reminded me of how the doctor who had transformed me was obsessed with the idea of ending death by the advancement of science. But his ambitions were dark, his methods frightening, and his manner was arrogant. And so had I slain him, to spare him from creating whole armies of things like what I had now become. For such an army would not end death, it would bring it! And, I feared such a terrible moment.
I did not attend the sacrifices often, and when I did it was only when The Morrigan wished to go and had a mind to talk me into coming along. This year was one such year, and I stood at her side as we did watch the druids tie the first chosen sacrifice to the rough stone altar that lay in the heart of their sacred grove in the dark forests that bordered our kingdom on the southern side. There was an early frost that year, and the scent of the woods was thick with pine and the burning of incense and various herbs. The gods were invoked, when the last golden light of the afternoon was upon the land, and that is the hour in which the knives of the druids would slit the throats of those bound to their altars. All across the land did these dark ceremonies occur, and the blood of those slain was given to the soil of the earth as a gift to the spirit of nature itself. A prayer for a mild winter and a pleasant spring. It was also harvest season, and blessings were sought for bountiful harvests. For me, it was always a depressing affair, and a very solemn and somber occasion. The Morrgian regarded the sacrifices with a detached expression on her face, but every so often she would cry for those who were slain because they sought death to end their misery. She had compassion after all, I noticed. Her black Greek style gown was covered by a thicker robe of warmer material, itself covered by a black wolf fur cloak that kept her warm. She also wore a pair of thick leggings beneath her gown, and had gloves over her hands and fur boots upon her feet. I also dressed appropriately for the weather, with a pair of thick baggy trousers tucked into a pair of fur boots. My hands had gloves on them likewise... and the soft blouse I wore which was tucked into my trousers was covered by the thick bear fur cloak that I gathered about me. As much to keep warm as to hide the mechanical aspects of my body that always unnerved those who looked upon me. We also did both wear fur caps that day too. Much to my shock and surprise, my daughter wished to come along to the ceremony along with us, and so I agreed to allow Ethniu to do so. “She is a strong girl, and has an even stronger stomach... she can handle what she will see.” the goddess of death assured me. And my daughter dressed warm for the occasion, choosing a pair of trousers like those I wore, and a blouse of a similar sort to mine as well. Like mine, it was laced up in the front and had a wide neck to it. Over this, she wore a fur cloak of her own, fur boots in her size, and a pair of fur mittens to match. She had a cute look to her, as she donned the fuzzy hat that completed her look, and she smiled broadly ere we had set out that day. And now, as we watched the sad and sorrowful sacrifices take place, the young girl was not smiling any longer, but appeared deathly serious. She asked me: “Father... I notice that after each person is taken from the altar once their throat is cut, they are beheaded. Why? And what is done with all those heads that are being collected and put into baskets by the priests!” I tried to put it as delicately as I was able to. I said to her: “That is a good question, love... they take the heads, and boil the skin off of them. They make them into skulls that way. And then, they make lanterns out of them, placing a candle inside each skull so that it lights it up from the inside. Then, they give the skull lanterns to the people, to any who want them, and they are used as decorations. Those who believe in such things hold that the skulls ward off evil spirits who cross over into our world from the other world when the veil between worlds thins. And this time of the year, it is very thin indeed!” and I touched the mechanical third eye that was in the middle of my forehead as I said that last part, adding: “I have seen beyond the veil, so I know it is true how thin it is during the Samhain season.” The Morrigan smiled upon hearing my description, and did remark upon it: “Well that was subtle! Good thing the girl has a strong stomach after all. Ye gods!” and Ethniu took me by the arm and indicated that she wished to go for a walk with me. I accepted, and we walked a ways into the nearby woods, along some trails that I had created there for people to walk along safely. It was a place where lovers went sometimes, and where mystics would go to commune a bit with nature. After some time out in the crisp autumn air, with the fallen leaves crunching beneath our feet, Ethniu stopped me and said: “Father... do you find me beautiful?” and I said to her that I did indeed find her quite beautiful. She then wrapped her arms about me and gazed up at me longingly. In ways that no child should ever regard their parent. “Do you love me, father?” she asked me, innocently.
“Of course I love you, girl! You are the brightest light of my life.” And she placed her hands inside of my cloak, rubbing and caressing my skin beneath my blouse,which she fumbled to untie a bit before so doing. She then ran her hands lower, and said to me in a seductive tone of voice: “Do you love me like you do my mother?” And she licked her lips once again in that playful way that was all Deirdre. I had no words to say, and was giving into how good her hands felt as they went into my trousers and played with my manhood there for a bit. She cautious not to excite me too much, and withdrew her hands after that, asking me: “Would you kiss me, father? Like you do my mother!” and I leaned down in order to be more equal to her height... and I took her into my arms and kissed her as passionately as she desired. I held her up and kissed her, careful not to hurt her due to my incredible strength. And she was giggling a bit after that kiss, caressing my face. “You are so beautiful, so handsome father!” she said to me. Even my wife had not called me beautiful or handsome since my transformation, and this made me feel good in ways I had not felt in a very long, long time. My daughter and I had shared private moments like this before, as she was getting older between the ages of ten and twelve, and up until the present year. It was perverse, and we both knew that it was so... but this was not Ethniu during these times, it was Deirdre. And I could refuse her nothing! She was still a virgin though, and every time she had pleased me in the past it had been with her mouth or her hands. She had told me once that she often sneaked out to watch me and my wife... her mother... as we made love. She watched us, and learned what I liked and what I did not like, when it came to acts of pleasure and love. There was something in her that did not regard the boundaries between father and daughter as sacred, nor the difference between our ages and that she was perhaps too young to be thinking the way that she did or doing some of the things with me that she did. But times were different enough back in those days, that it was not illegal to act upon such desires. Merely, to some, immoral. But there was so very much darkness inside of my daughter, and inside of me as well, that traditional morality seemed to be a thing that was not necessary to consider. I put her down after our kiss, and we walked along some more, my hand upon her buttocks. I gave her a bit of a squeeze, and she said to me cheerfully: “It has been such a long time since I've seen you so feisty, sweet leaf!” and I laughed, happy, to hear her call me that. And for the first time ever, I called her Deirdre and said to her: “Deirdre, my love... we must not ever tell your mother about any of this! She just would not understand.” and she agreed, assuring me: “I will not tell her who it is that I really am, my darling one. She would be beyond jealous... if she believed it at all! Though about a few of our moments together, I think she has seen and said nothing.” and I knew that she had seen. But the High Queen was a woman of honor and if she found any fault with the way Ethniu and I carried on, she never spoke of it as such. She kept her own counsel for the most part, and I knew that even though The Morrigan most certainly knew everything including all about Deirdre... she would never speak of all she knew, for she cultivated a cryptic and evasive manner regarding pretty much everything in life. Our secrets were safe, and I was content for a time to have my Deirdre back after being gone for so long. But things changed quite fast!
That winter, the High Queen asked me who would be my pick for a husband for Ethniu. “She is, I am sure you have noticed, now a beautiful and desirable young maiden. And she is in need of someone who will make her an ideal husband. She need not marry just yet, but a match should be arranged for her ere long, lest she be deemed past the age when a betrothal should be considered. So, husband... have you a pick in mind, or should I go about choosing one?” Her tone was confrontational and acidic as she said this to me. She sat in front of the great hearth in the ceremonial hall at our castle in Tara, the flames in the hearth blazing hotly behind her. As beautiful as my wife was, she was terrible when she was angry. And I sensed tremendous anger within her, barely contained. She wore a long blood red gown trimmed with black, long-sleeved with fur at the hem of the garment and along the bottoms of the sleeves a well. This was belted at the waist with a golden girdle, a match for the gilded necklace she was also wearing.
She had a pair of large looped earrings in her ears, and her wavy red hair was tied back into a bit of a high ponytail that made her otherwise pleasant features appear more severe than usual. She was like a woman changed, and I did not like the look on her face or the tone in her voice. “I will choose a worthy husband for her myself, fear not.” I said. She then rose to her feet... walked over to me, from across the chamber, and smacked me across my face as hard as she could. “You are a filthy liar! Did you think for one moment I did not know what had passed between you and Ethniu when you went with the goddess of death, of all the people, to the Samhain sacrifices? There were eyes in the woods that night, and you were so lost in your... activities... with your own daughter. With our daughter! That you never noticed I had people watching you. I have suspected you two, for a long time now... and I am not sure which of the two of you corrupted the other more... but, you are both wholly corrupt now. But now I know, that you have done things together, things no parent and child should ever do! And I must despise you now. You and she both... and if you want me to ever love you again, my husband. My king! Then you will... here and now... name a husband for her. Or go out and fetch one, I care not even who, and set up some sort of betrothal between them. Get her into his house and out of mine! And then, then I shall love you. We will forget she was ever born, and all will go back to being exactly how things were before.” I then exploded verbally at her, proclaiming: “Back how things were? You mean when I was torturing myself and mortifying my very flesh in an attempt to bring Deirdre back from the dead! Up in the north, at my tower there, away from your spies. For that is what I was doing when I was away... unable to bear how bitterly I was pining away for my dead love. You never understood the bond Deirdre and I shared, even though you claimed to! You never truly understood me, either. But she... Deirdre... does. And I shall not see her in the arms of another whom she does not love! For she loves me, and me alone.” and Ethniu's slumber had been disturbed that night upon hearing my argument with her mother. She walked out of her bedroom and into the ceremonial hall, wearing a long white sleeveless nightdress with a linen cloak over it to keep her warm. She was barefoot, and moved quietly. She had overheard more than she may have liked ere she stormed into the room... her face red with anger as she screamed at her mother. She said unto her, as she screamed: “Listen to me, Kaitlin, you murderous bitch! I will call you mother no longer. Yes, I am indeed Deirdre. The same as she who fell in battle against the Fir Bolg, hacked near unto death by their blades ere I lay dying in the cabin of the ship that served as our headquarters during that conflict. Oh yes! I remember well your fat cow face looking over me as I lay dying. I remember the druid who served as my healer for the occasion telling you that I could be saved if you would but allow him to use one of your precious herbs in the mixture of the medicine he planned to thus create for me to imbibe. He said it would close my wounds quicker, buying me the time I needed to heal! But you would not let him use it... you let me bleed to death, and when I would not die quickly enough you took one of your pillows and smothered me in my sleep. You murdered me, you disgusting bitch! And now, you are showing your true colors, striking my love and demanding I be sent away. Well, you shall not have my sweet leaf! Do you understand me? Never shall anyone have my soulmate, but me. Tell me Kaitlin, did you cry when you told Balor how I died? Did you pretend that it bothered you to kill me! Balor, sweet leaf, my love... it was not the Fir Bolg who stole me from you. It was this woman here! The very same, whom the gods ordained would give me life once again... perhaps as punishment for her many sins, of which my murder was only one of countless. Ask The Morrgian if my words are true or if I lie! She will state that I speak fair and well.” and into the room strode the goddess of death herself, The Morrgian, in all of her glory. She said unto me: “Balor... it is true, what Deirdre says. Your wife was her true killer... not the Fir Bolg, whom you punished for it so mercilessly. And so now, what will the three of you do?” and the goddess's tone was as cold as ice. She was incapable of lying and everyone knew it. Kaitlin did look ashamed after that, and turned her back on us to gaze into the hearth. “Yes... I did do this deed. To my everlasting shame, and regret. I acted out of jealousy, Balor. I did not want to share you... with her.”
By her own words, Kaitlin's guilt was proven, and my heart turned against her forever. I knew not any love for her, after that admission, and in the instant of hearing it I wanted to strike her down. But, I had not the heart to slay her, even so... I was not a murderer like she was. And I pitied her... for to act as she did, showed that she thought she was second best in my eyes compared to Deirdre. Her evil actions, in killing the innocent woman I adored above all others in that life, had proved that she was unworthy of my love after all. I said unto her, as I stood there towering over her in judgment, even as she refused to look at me at all. “Now, it is I... who must despise you, Kar'mila Crom-Cruach. Henceforth, your family name shall be accursed in the lands of Eriu, and they shall call you 'The Crooked One'. There are many altars to you... and at every one of them you are revered as a goddess, and sacrifices are made unto you. The name of your great ancestor, Crom-Cruach, was honored in this country, and until tonight there had been no one living who would have spoke unfairly of him. But your deeds are foul, woman! And due to those deeds, your ancestral line has become accursed, for if your ancestor had been a good man then I am certain no issue from his lineage could be as venomous and serpent-like as yourself. Thus it falls to me to punish you for your crimes by proclaiming them in public on the morrow for all to hear and all to know. After the morrow, your altars will be abandoned and your statues broken. Those of old Crom will in turn be forsaken and shunned, and everywhere will your family name be shamed as the name of one who was naught but a worthless murderess. I never imagined you might be guilty of such a thing! But I had my suspicions as well about the story you told me regarding Deirdre's final moments. And so, my former wife... whose sin is worse, between the two of us? It will be seen before all of Eriu, that yours is the greater sin. And after tomorrow, I shall depart from Tara and leave you rule it alone and in shame. If you are able to redeem yourself by ruling over this kingdom well, then you may in time regain your lost honor. But until you do, the druids will mark you as a fallen goddess at best! And no one shall ever love you again, as I once loved you.” And The Morrigan spoke as well, stating before all three of us: “Thus has the High King of the Fomor spoken! And thus shall it be done as is commanded. I shall see to the legal matters required.” And she stormed off imperiously, intent at seeing justice done. I then left with Deirdre... with Ethniu... at my side, and we retired to her bedroom for the evening, leaving Kaitlin all alone with her crimes and sins, to ponder where she had gone so wrong. She was sobbing all through the night, and I would never know if she was sobbing for Deirdre or for herself. I never spoke with her again after that, and all night I had to console Deirdre, who wept in my arms as she tried to get through the reality of remembering how she had died in her previous life. It was a cold night, for all of us. But for the High Queen, who would become known henceforth as Queen Kaitlin the Crooked, it was very much the coldest night of all. For on the morrow, her reputation as a beloved ruler was to be destroyed.
I was there to see that justice was done, and The Morrigan spoke before the crowd that gathered in the city square at Tara, which in those days was the largest and most revered city in all the lands of Eriu. It was a scared and historical city, one where kings were crowned and gods were instated to be revered by all. It was, on this occasion, witness to a goddess being shamed and disgraced for the first time in all of its' history. Ethniu spoke out and went public with her true identity, describing for all present the details of her murder at Kaitlin's jealous hands. I waited to speak until all this was done, and then I did call on the druids of the land... who all bowed, to the will of The Morrigan, to pronounce their judgment upon she who had once been their High Queen. But their power in the land was greater and more honored by all than any kings or queens... for they spoke for the gods, and The Morrigan was the most terrifying out of all of those gods. Thus was Kaitlin named a criminal and a murderess, within the sight of all. And, to pay for her crime she was brought out and tied with thick ropes to a wooden post that was set up in the center of the city square... and, there, people threw garbage and rotten food at her, and threw wine and mead upon her, and mocked her. They were angry indeed, for she had thus lied to them as well as to us.
Women were allowed to strike her with their fists and with sticks, and men were allowed to call her the most terrible mocking names that they could come up with. Once this was done, she was untied and set free, and escorted back to the castle where she did not come out again to meet the angry crowds that gathered in ever greater numbers to vent their anger. And they made effigies of her with straw and they burned them, and she was denounced as a terrible queen, with many calling for her to be removed from power entirely. But before them all The Morrgian declared: “No! She must remain your queen, for only in that role can she seek to earn her redemption. And if she fails you, then shall she face the disgrace as only exile from the lands of Eriu can bring! And you will not need to ever lay your eyes upon her again after that.” and this was agreed upon, and it was well with the people that this was so. And thus did so begin the rein of High Queen Kaitlin the Crooked, who ruled alone for the remainder of her days until her death. Alone, unloved, and despised by her people despite that she was otherwise a good ruler for them. That night, I and my daughter... my reincarnated beloved... moved away from Tara forever. And we set out for my tower in the north arriving, ere long, at Ynys Gwydr, which ever after would be our home. It was for us a warm winter after all, for I made Ethniu my true queen in all but lawful title. And as such, she became known as the Queen of Shadows, for she had the heart of all the people... as did I. And all of our entire kingdom regarded her as the rightful High Queen. Were it not for The Morrgian's precise instructions and insistence upon Kaitlin remaining in power... I would have given Ethniu that very title, for she truly above all deserved it. But even I could not defy the will of the goddess of death itself, who always proved to be so wise. Before the winter had ended, I had made love with Deirdre in the form of Ethniu for the very first time... and we did so before the roaring hearth of our bedchamber in the tower that was now our royal palace. She wore a long scarlet gown tied with a purple sash belt, and the gown was beautiful with billowing sleeves tied at the wrists with drawstrings. About her neck was a necklace of black pearls, and in her nose she wore a golden nose ring... the very one that used to belong to her back when she was just simply Deirdre. She glided along as she made her way across the floor to where I awaited her upon our big, soft bed. I was unclothed, and I knew how terrible my form was to behold, with my mechanical arms and legs, and the black skin of my right hand, which was so at odds with my otherwise light skin tone, with its' slightly yellowish tint to it. And how unnatural it was that my back looked, with the ridged exo-spine that ran up and down the entire length of it. Red lights lit up upon the exo-spine whenever I moved, and as a whole I was a complete synthesis of mortal and machine. Even my ribs were metal... and my height had been increased to eight feet by the mad doctor who had saved my life by remaking me into this titanic image. I had many scars upon my chest, and all over my back, some of them from battle and some from self torture and self mutilation. My face was no longer without lines from age and years of care and worry, and I kept my head shaved... so I had no hair left, nor did I have any upon my entire body, right down to my eyebrows. The only hair that remained on me was my eyelashes. Even so, Deirdre found me beautiful, and the young girl sat down on the bed next to me, beginning our lovemaking with the sweetly whispered words: “Lie back, sweet leaf!” and I did as she asked. She straddled my tall form, wrapping her legs about me as she began to kiss me from my lips, which she kissed passionately and fiercely, all the way downward. I felt her lips fall upon the shaft of my manhood, and her hands assisted her lips in arousing me powerfully. It was erect from her skillful manipulations, and as she did this I played with her breasts and squeezed them gently. “I want you to take me, my love! Take me now!” She said seductively and insistently. As she straddled me, on top of me, she helped me to enter her... and I did thrust in and out of her, until she shrieked a bit when her virginity was claimed at last by my thrusting. In a mixture of pain and pleasure, she gave into the heat of the moment and moved her body up and down upon my shaft, her breasts jiggling as she did so. I rested my hands upon her hips as I took her, and so intense was that taking that our pleasure was far greater than either of us had expected to experience. “Oh, I love you! I love you so much, sweet leaf!”
That was what she cried out upon experiencing her first orgasm, and her excitement made me climax inside of her. Before that night was over... we would make love several more times... one time, she was on her back with her legs spread wide. Another, she bent over so I could claim her from behind. Always I was careful with her fleshly body, so that I would not hurt her as we savored our acts of intercourse. I knew the strength I was capable of, and so I made certain not to be too rough with her during all of this. Outside the chamber where we gave in to every primal urge we had previously fought against indulging in, the winter air was cold and chill, with a great wind blowing across the northern parts of the land. At the end, we lay in bed together, both of us slick with sweat and the scent of our union fresh upon me. I took a cloth to clean the blood from the bed that had resulted when the girl lost her virginity, and then I cleaned our other spilled fluids a bit, resigning myself to having the servants take care of the worst of it once the morning arrived. I slept soundly, with Deirdre lying next to me and our shared warmth keeping us comfortable throughout the remainder of the night. She kept staring into my eyes every so often, as if she wanted to savor every second of our shared tenderness, as if she might never see me again. I said to her during one of those times, when I woke up from my dreams: “Darling, it is alright! We will be able to be together forever now, fear not.” to which she replied: “I know, sweet leaf! I know... it is just that, I find you so very wonderful to look upon. We are both of us much changed from who we once were, and yet we are so very much the same as ever! It just... I want to savor who and how we both are during this very moment, so that I can remember it for all of time. I was so lonely where I was, dear one... but now I am warm and happy, and with you once again. What could the blessed realms give me, to compare?” And for some reason those words seemed ominous to hear. I fell asleep after that, and thought not of it.
From that night of love, a child was born after nine months, and the child who was born from us was a boy whom we named Lugh, which was a name that in the language of the Fomor meant “Light”. We planned to raise him at our tower home, and intended for him to one day become the rightful heir to the throne of our kingdom. He would one day reign in Tara as High King, and he would inherit a land that knew only peace and plenty. That was what we wished to grant him! Ethniu was fifteen years old when he was born, but she had the heart and mind of a queen twice her age. However, it seemed that the part of her that had been Deirdre was no longer there, just as The Morrgian had said would happen. But the part of her that was still Ethniu was so much like Deirdre that I remained happy with her nonetheless. I saw very little changed in her, save that she no longer called me her sweet leaf. But we found other little pet names that were equally endearing to call one another, and our love and devotion to each other got only deeper and more meaningful with time. Once Lugh was about four years old, we made plans to be sending him off to Tara in order to begin his education with the druids and teachers that awaited. They would tutor him in all the ways that Ethniu had been taught, only of course he would receive the added education, when old enough, of the ways of the warrior. For as a boy, he would need such skills as part of learning how to be a proper king. We lacked the services required to conduct such an education at the isle of Ynys Gwydr, and so it was arranged for Lugh to spend a single week and a half out of each and every month at Tara... where he would stay with The Morrgian, who would handle the details of how it was his education was to be shaped. She was waiting for his arrival, and had agreed with me that it was for the best if the boy had no contact with the High Queen, who I feared might harbor him some ill will. She had killed once out of jealousy, and I dared not risk that she might now kill out of spite. That, was why I chose the goddess of death to be his protector. For even Kaitlin the Crooked would not dare risk the displeasure of Death herself! I had a bad feeling, the day that the druids from Tara came by chariot in order to take Lugh back with them, and something told me that I should have gone along with them. But, I trusted that all would be well, and sent the boy away after giving him a big hug and a pat on his head. His mother likewise hugged him... and kissed his forehead, tenderly. We bid him a fond farewell.
And never again did we see the boy, or hold him in our arms. When next I would meet Lugh, it would be on the field of battle, and on that fateful day I would be slain by him. For we had not heard of what it was that was transpiring off in the lands of the Tuatha de Danann... and how the people there had begun to grow very tired of the rule of their High King. Bres had, in my service, been a trustworthy advisor as well as a skilled diplomat with a silver tongue that was so cunning, he served as my voice in the land. A position now held by The Morrgian herself. During the time that had passed since he gained the crown of the children of Dana, Bres had gone from being a worthy king to becoming a greedy tyrant. Of old, it was agreed upon that I would be the landlord for the Tuatha de Danann, and that they would pay me my due in order to retain the right to live upon the land whereon their kingdom was established. Land that I owned prior to their arrival on the shores of Eriu. The required taxes were collected once a year, and it was Bres who was assigned the duty of collecting them, and sending the money to Tara, to be stored in the royal treasury there. In the treasury, it would then be used for the good of both kingdoms, and thus the people were content. But over time, Bres became enamored with money and power, and he seized a great deal more in taxes than was required of him to procure... with all of the extra ending up appearing in his own private treasury. Every year, he increased the taxes without either my knowledge or consent. And never had such a burden been placed upon the Tuatha de Danann before! He forced many of their menfolk to work as slaves in his gem mines in order to make up the difference in what he claimed was owed to me, and their women oft resorted to prostitution in order to ease their husbands' burdens. It got to be so terrible... that many great princes, and even some of the minor kings under Bres' rule, had been forced to toil by his tyrannical hand. The noble Ogma was forced to carry firewood to warm the hearth at the castle where Bres reigned, and the former High King of the children of Dana, the burly old bear of a warrior known as The Daghda, who had himself ruled over his people before Nuada did... was in turn forced by Bres to dig trenches around the wicked ruler's forts. All because the workers who should have been performing that task had already been sent off to the mines. The customs and traditions that governed the laws of hospitality were ignored, and one of the most famed poets of the children of Dana, a man named Cairbre, composed and did in public recite a scathing and sadly all too accurate poem that was in mockery and critique of Bres and his rule. A poem that was a huge success with the people! It is said that Bres demanded the poet be punished, for tarnishing his image, but that his guards whom he so sent to enact the punishment refused to do so, instead congratulating Cairbre on creating such a brilliant work of poetic art. That was the beginning of the end, for the harsh reign of High King Bres, and in the shortest time imaginable the people of his kingdom began to turn upon him... but they had believed his lies that the money they owed in taxes was the correct amount, and their hate towards Bres grew until it also was directed towards me. For they saw me as the true power behind Bres, and they knew not that I had nothing whatsoever to do with his deceit. By the time I would learn the full and awful details of all these things, all of these turbulent events... it would be too late to stop the war that resulted from them. The children of Dana... all of them, save for The Morrgian who did not count herself among their kind, turned against me, and there was open rebellion against not just Bres but against Fomor rule in general, in the lands wherein Bres ruled. The folk of my kingdom knew the truth, however, and so did Kaitlin to her credit attempt to speak out and inform all she could that I was innocent in this matter. She met with diplomats from the Tuatha de Danann who would not listen to her because of her reputation as being a liar and a murderess, and they called her “Kaitlin of the Crooked Teeth”, saying she lied even through her very teeth. In the end, though they did not declare war upon us... the stopped paying our taxes and kicked Bres out of their country, forcing him into exile. After that, they stopped dealing with me or my people, and became reclusive, closing their borders to us. I was their landlord no longer... and now the land was divided, for our two kingdoms had gone their separate ways due to all this. During the chaos and confusion of these events... Lugh's chariot never made it to Tara, and his fate was not known to me.
For the first time in generations, there was no longer any threat from the Fir Bolg tribes... who having lost their king during their great war against the combined forces of both the Tuatha de Danann and the Fomor, at last agreed to the terms of the two kingdoms they had gone against. Now the Fir Bolg did no longer pursue war, and their warriors and soldiers mostly joined the ranks of the Fomor. But not one of their kindred would join with the children of Dana, and this dismayed the Tuatha de Danann greatly. It was likely out of a feeling of guilt that the Fir Bolg felt, over having begun their hopelessly savage war by committing acts of aggression all along the border of the lands once ruled over by king Nuada, who had now given up his throne in favor of the half Fomorian nobleman Bres, who had become a hero of great renown and distinction during the final battles against the Fir Bolg. Many secretly wondered, if it boded ill that the Fir Bolg sought to join now with the Fomor during a time when a half Fomorian was ruling over the lands of the Tuatha de Danann... but because peace prevailed in all the lands of Eriu, it proved fruitless to ponder too deeply upon such matters. As well, the Fir Bolg had been nearly driven to extinction due to their heavy losses during the war, both militarily and as a people. Thus was it deemed, that their threat was ended, which it was. Nuada felt bitter as time went on though, and burned deep in his heart to once more become the High King of the children of Dana despite the law that prevented his doing so. For it was said that none who had so much as a blemish could rule over the Tuatha de Danann and Nuada had far more than a blemish! His right arm was severed by the Fir Bolg champion Bres, and it had been replaced later on with a mechanical arm crafted from a powerful silver-like alloy. All of his peoples celebrated the great hero Nuada Silverhand, and yet none of them would have him as their king any longer. For they were bound by a shallow tradition that exalted physical perfection over what was in a person's heart and soul. And thus did the heart and soul of Nuada turn from light to darkness due to that tragic fact. He remained apart from all of the gatherings and councils of his folk, and would not any longer meet with me at Tara, where I reigned as the High King of the Fomor at the side of my wife the beautiful and wise Kar'mila Crom-Cruach, whom I affectionately called Kaitlin. In my kingdom, those of my folk were pleased with our rule and celebrated our victory over the Fir Bolg every year upon the anniversary of the day and month upon which it was won. The druids, of course, kept track of such and saw to the celebrations when the time for them came around again. This leads us to the events to follow.
Nine months passed after the night when I returned to Tara from the north and lay in love with Kaitlin like never before, giving myself over to her wholly at long last as The Morrgian had advised me to, and as I myself had longed to. But the ghost of Deirdre had haunted me within my heart previous to that. On many evenings I thought I saw her walking about the halls of Tara but looking like a little girl. I always dismissed this as a residual of my pain at having lost her so long ago when first we came to Eriu. But it was all too real, the apparition, for when I looked upon it with my third eye's enhanced abilities of sight then it was that I could indeed see Deirdre's spirit quite clearly. The Morrigan had told me that she was in a state of bliss, in the realms of the blessed beyond the cares of this world. Yet, evidently, something brought her back to this world still! The apparition was only sighted by me during the first month or so after I had lain with Kaitlin so intensely, and as my wife's pregnancy became increasingly evident... the haunting seemed to cease and the spirit of Deirdre seemed to have gone away. The Morrigan had been my advisor and my voice in the land, ever since she came to me at the tower and revealed unto me her true identity as the ancient death goddess known as Lilith. And whenever I asked her about what I had seen regarding Deirdre's ghost, she would say to me only that I need not worry. “She is well, fear not! I would say that she is in the best shape that she had been, since before her death.” and her words were a cryptic riddle that I knew she would not give me a direct answer for. But something about them deeply concerned me. After the nine months mentioned previously passed, my wife gave birth to our daughter.
The girl was named by her mother... and the name she was given was Ethniu. I saw her birth as a true miracle, for I had been convinced that, due to my hermaphroditic condition, I could not father a child... but The Morrigan had promised that this would come to pass, and so did all transpire exactly as she did foretell. I asked her of this, wondering, and begged the pale death goddess to explain it to me. And, she replied unto me: “It is well that you ask! The answer to this riddle, the riddle of your daughter's birth, is a simple one. When you were transformed by the scientist who augmented your body... and made it the way that it is now... he augmented you also in other ways than are immediately evident upon one's first glance. Need I say it outright? He fixed it, so that you could father a child after all. You know... he fixed your... well, you get the idea.” and I knew what she meant by her words. “So now you won't be able to around taking lovers as you please, unless of course you want more offspring!” she cautioned me. And this made me glad to hear, for it meant that my body's enhancements were good for more than just war and matters of the occult. I could create a life now, as much as take a life. And as far as I knew, the days of war and death were behind us now. Bres was proving to be a wise and enlightened ruler for his folk, and my own people regarded me as their savior for having delivered our kingdom from the Fir Bolg not just once, but twice. Even with our longer lifespans... we of the Elvish races still grew up fairly fast. It did not seem long before baby Ethniu had passed through a happy, delightful childhood into a spitfire of a young girl. The years passed blissfully for her, and for we who were her family, and on the year of her fourteenth birthday that is when we began to notice changes in her personality. She once, at the supper table, asked me in the great dining hall of Tara: “Father, have you ever been called 'sweet leaf' before?” and I went pale, for that was Deirdre's pet name for me. I said to her: “Yes, daughter. But it has been a very long time, since anyone called me that.” she then waited until her mother was out of the room. And she placed her hand upon my thigh and whispered unto me: “Then it is time I called you so once again, sweet leaf!” and in her eyes the spirit of Deirdre shone like light to me. I went to The Morrgian and did ask of her: “Goddess! I would know something, ere I think myself mad... or my daughter mad... is she, is young Ethniu, in fact the reincarnation of poor dead Deirdre?” and the air was very dark in the lower chambers of mighty Tara where the great shrine of The Morrigan had been at that time set up... and over which she herself did preside in place of any high druid of the kingdom. That death goddess was pale, her skin chalk white... and her black eyes with no white in them whatsoever had not any mirth within them on this occasion. Black was her attire, black was her lipstick, and many said that black was her heart and soul as well. It was not in her nature to jest, and her long straight black hair cascaded down her back like a curtain of ebony night, a night without any stars or moon. She was frightful to look upon and yet I loved her. She was my lover on the side, and had been my most ancient of all lovers. I knew if she was serious and if she was not. She had just finished an animal sacrifice, that of a large bull, and in the moment in which she washed her hands within the water basin set up for that purpose near the altar that right now was stained and spattered with gore, she said unto me: “Yes, Balor! She is Deirdre. But... she is also your daughter now, and so you two cannot be together as once you were able to.” and I did remind her of the words of her prophecy that once she had spoken unto me. “Dark goddess, though it is a fact that you do not lie... did you not tell me once that my firstborn daughter would one day also bear a child, and that through that child I would be reunited with Deirdre? How can this come to pass, if she herself is Deirdre reborn!” And the embodiment of death looked upon me grimly as she said: “The girl at present has two spirits, two souls within her body. One is Deirdre, and one is herself. I have foreseen that the spirit of Deirdre shall dwell within her form until the birth of her first child, which shall in that time be a son. Upon the birth of her son, the spirit of Deirdre shall depart for the realms of the blessed, and there she will once more await you faithfully. Her son will become the instrument of your demise... so now you know why I was hesitant to tell you all that I knew. It is through your death, that you shall in the end be reunited with Deirdre in bliss. Though that bliss will pass! You will both be reborn again.”
I became greatly depressed following the prophecy that the goddess of death had revealed unto me. I told no one of it, not my wife and certainly not my daughter. I looked at Ethniu one day, and could not help but notice that she had become very beautiful. She was fourteen years old now, and rather short for an Elvish maiden of those years. She would not become very tall when she reached adulthood. In many ways she was not very much like Deirdre had been at all... and yet, she was. Her skin was well tanned in the same way as her mother Kaitlin. And her hair was a strawberry blonde that was a combination of my blonde hair color and her mother's red hair color. The young girl, had sparkling green eyes just like mine had once been... before my eyes had been replaced with mechanical ones. Her face was round and she seemed always to be smiling, her lips full and moist. She had an aquiline nose just like me, and her eyes were almond shaped. She had an hourglass figure just like her mother, and I could not help but so admire the beauty of her breasts and hips and how they looked when she moved. I knew it was wrong, she was my daughter after all, but she would smile at me like Deirdre had once smiled... licked her lips a little when she did so, and winked at me. And I knew that it was Deirdre... and not Ethniu, doing this. Her mother pretended not to notice, and I pretended not to care. For almost a year, we all acted as if not a thing had changed in our lives. It was autumn soon enough, and the summer season had come and so gone whilst the leaves of the trees began to change colors. I had hired the best tutors for the education of my daughter, all female so they could be trusted alone with her. And over the years prior to this one, when she turned fourteen, she had become very intelligent, wise, and gracious. Her manners were good and her sense of humor was even better! She could make me laugh when no one else was able to. I did once say unto her: “Ethniu, my dear! I should honestly make you my court jester, and behead the one I have now.” and I was joking about beheading him. But in a dark moment, she said to me seriously: “I would like to see that very much, father! Would you behead him for me, if I asked you to?” and I went quite a bit paler than my naturally light skin tone when she said that. I stammered a bit before asking of her: “Child, I... would you really want me to do such a thing? He has never done a thing against me. I was merely jesting with you.” to which she laughed hysterically before stating: “Oh my gods! Father, oh father, it was merely a joke I was telling... a dark joke, but merely a jest all the same.” and I wondered if it was indeed a jest with her, or not. She had to have inherited a bit of my innate darkness, and though I convinced myself that I had it under control... I knew it was still there, deep inside of me, like a serpent coiled and ready to strike. I prayed to the dark goddess herself that it never would strike again. But now I needed to fear that the darkness would find a new and more terrible host in my child. And I was afraid.
The season of Samhain was upon the land, and the druids went out to scour the countryside, in search of animals and people to sacrifice to their gods. Often... they would choose criminals who were about to be executed for their crimes anyway. For crimes were still committed even in an era of peace and plenty and the dungeons and prisons of the land had many of them to spare for the Samhain sacrifices. Also, a sad truth is that aside form convicted criminals there were many volunteers for the roles of sacrifices. In every case where it was a volunteer, those chosen from such were picked specifically because they were tired of life and wished to pass into the realms beyond. Oft it was the old or infirm, those who suffered from illnesses and conditions that were so advanced or afflictions so terrible that they had no chance of ever recovering. It was this, or the remainder of their shortened lives in pain and torment. So this was to them an act of mercy that was seen as a blissful way for them to pass on. There were always more, who were willing, than those who were taken from among the condemned. And that saddened me to see. It reminded me of how the doctor who had transformed me was obsessed with the idea of ending death by the advancement of science. But his ambitions were dark, his methods frightening, and his manner was arrogant. And so had I slain him, to spare him from creating whole armies of things like what I had now become. For such an army would not end death, it would bring it! And, I feared such a terrible moment.
I did not attend the sacrifices often, and when I did it was only when The Morrigan wished to go and had a mind to talk me into coming along. This year was one such year, and I stood at her side as we did watch the druids tie the first chosen sacrifice to the rough stone altar that lay in the heart of their sacred grove in the dark forests that bordered our kingdom on the southern side. There was an early frost that year, and the scent of the woods was thick with pine and the burning of incense and various herbs. The gods were invoked, when the last golden light of the afternoon was upon the land, and that is the hour in which the knives of the druids would slit the throats of those bound to their altars. All across the land did these dark ceremonies occur, and the blood of those slain was given to the soil of the earth as a gift to the spirit of nature itself. A prayer for a mild winter and a pleasant spring. It was also harvest season, and blessings were sought for bountiful harvests. For me, it was always a depressing affair, and a very solemn and somber occasion. The Morrgian regarded the sacrifices with a detached expression on her face, but every so often she would cry for those who were slain because they sought death to end their misery. She had compassion after all, I noticed. Her black Greek style gown was covered by a thicker robe of warmer material, itself covered by a black wolf fur cloak that kept her warm. She also wore a pair of thick leggings beneath her gown, and had gloves over her hands and fur boots upon her feet. I also dressed appropriately for the weather, with a pair of thick baggy trousers tucked into a pair of fur boots. My hands had gloves on them likewise... and the soft blouse I wore which was tucked into my trousers was covered by the thick bear fur cloak that I gathered about me. As much to keep warm as to hide the mechanical aspects of my body that always unnerved those who looked upon me. We also did both wear fur caps that day too. Much to my shock and surprise, my daughter wished to come along to the ceremony along with us, and so I agreed to allow Ethniu to do so. “She is a strong girl, and has an even stronger stomach... she can handle what she will see.” the goddess of death assured me. And my daughter dressed warm for the occasion, choosing a pair of trousers like those I wore, and a blouse of a similar sort to mine as well. Like mine, it was laced up in the front and had a wide neck to it. Over this, she wore a fur cloak of her own, fur boots in her size, and a pair of fur mittens to match. She had a cute look to her, as she donned the fuzzy hat that completed her look, and she smiled broadly ere we had set out that day. And now, as we watched the sad and sorrowful sacrifices take place, the young girl was not smiling any longer, but appeared deathly serious. She asked me: “Father... I notice that after each person is taken from the altar once their throat is cut, they are beheaded. Why? And what is done with all those heads that are being collected and put into baskets by the priests!” I tried to put it as delicately as I was able to. I said to her: “That is a good question, love... they take the heads, and boil the skin off of them. They make them into skulls that way. And then, they make lanterns out of them, placing a candle inside each skull so that it lights it up from the inside. Then, they give the skull lanterns to the people, to any who want them, and they are used as decorations. Those who believe in such things hold that the skulls ward off evil spirits who cross over into our world from the other world when the veil between worlds thins. And this time of the year, it is very thin indeed!” and I touched the mechanical third eye that was in the middle of my forehead as I said that last part, adding: “I have seen beyond the veil, so I know it is true how thin it is during the Samhain season.” The Morrigan smiled upon hearing my description, and did remark upon it: “Well that was subtle! Good thing the girl has a strong stomach after all. Ye gods!” and Ethniu took me by the arm and indicated that she wished to go for a walk with me. I accepted, and we walked a ways into the nearby woods, along some trails that I had created there for people to walk along safely. It was a place where lovers went sometimes, and where mystics would go to commune a bit with nature. After some time out in the crisp autumn air, with the fallen leaves crunching beneath our feet, Ethniu stopped me and said: “Father... do you find me beautiful?” and I said to her that I did indeed find her quite beautiful. She then wrapped her arms about me and gazed up at me longingly. In ways that no child should ever regard their parent. “Do you love me, father?” she asked me, innocently.
“Of course I love you, girl! You are the brightest light of my life.” And she placed her hands inside of my cloak, rubbing and caressing my skin beneath my blouse,which she fumbled to untie a bit before so doing. She then ran her hands lower, and said to me in a seductive tone of voice: “Do you love me like you do my mother?” And she licked her lips once again in that playful way that was all Deirdre. I had no words to say, and was giving into how good her hands felt as they went into my trousers and played with my manhood there for a bit. She cautious not to excite me too much, and withdrew her hands after that, asking me: “Would you kiss me, father? Like you do my mother!” and I leaned down in order to be more equal to her height... and I took her into my arms and kissed her as passionately as she desired. I held her up and kissed her, careful not to hurt her due to my incredible strength. And she was giggling a bit after that kiss, caressing my face. “You are so beautiful, so handsome father!” she said to me. Even my wife had not called me beautiful or handsome since my transformation, and this made me feel good in ways I had not felt in a very long, long time. My daughter and I had shared private moments like this before, as she was getting older between the ages of ten and twelve, and up until the present year. It was perverse, and we both knew that it was so... but this was not Ethniu during these times, it was Deirdre. And I could refuse her nothing! She was still a virgin though, and every time she had pleased me in the past it had been with her mouth or her hands. She had told me once that she often sneaked out to watch me and my wife... her mother... as we made love. She watched us, and learned what I liked and what I did not like, when it came to acts of pleasure and love. There was something in her that did not regard the boundaries between father and daughter as sacred, nor the difference between our ages and that she was perhaps too young to be thinking the way that she did or doing some of the things with me that she did. But times were different enough back in those days, that it was not illegal to act upon such desires. Merely, to some, immoral. But there was so very much darkness inside of my daughter, and inside of me as well, that traditional morality seemed to be a thing that was not necessary to consider. I put her down after our kiss, and we walked along some more, my hand upon her buttocks. I gave her a bit of a squeeze, and she said to me cheerfully: “It has been such a long time since I've seen you so feisty, sweet leaf!” and I laughed, happy, to hear her call me that. And for the first time ever, I called her Deirdre and said to her: “Deirdre, my love... we must not ever tell your mother about any of this! She just would not understand.” and she agreed, assuring me: “I will not tell her who it is that I really am, my darling one. She would be beyond jealous... if she believed it at all! Though about a few of our moments together, I think she has seen and said nothing.” and I knew that she had seen. But the High Queen was a woman of honor and if she found any fault with the way Ethniu and I carried on, she never spoke of it as such. She kept her own counsel for the most part, and I knew that even though The Morrigan most certainly knew everything including all about Deirdre... she would never speak of all she knew, for she cultivated a cryptic and evasive manner regarding pretty much everything in life. Our secrets were safe, and I was content for a time to have my Deirdre back after being gone for so long. But things changed quite fast!
That winter, the High Queen asked me who would be my pick for a husband for Ethniu. “She is, I am sure you have noticed, now a beautiful and desirable young maiden. And she is in need of someone who will make her an ideal husband. She need not marry just yet, but a match should be arranged for her ere long, lest she be deemed past the age when a betrothal should be considered. So, husband... have you a pick in mind, or should I go about choosing one?” Her tone was confrontational and acidic as she said this to me. She sat in front of the great hearth in the ceremonial hall at our castle in Tara, the flames in the hearth blazing hotly behind her. As beautiful as my wife was, she was terrible when she was angry. And I sensed tremendous anger within her, barely contained. She wore a long blood red gown trimmed with black, long-sleeved with fur at the hem of the garment and along the bottoms of the sleeves a well. This was belted at the waist with a golden girdle, a match for the gilded necklace she was also wearing.
She had a pair of large looped earrings in her ears, and her wavy red hair was tied back into a bit of a high ponytail that made her otherwise pleasant features appear more severe than usual. She was like a woman changed, and I did not like the look on her face or the tone in her voice. “I will choose a worthy husband for her myself, fear not.” I said. She then rose to her feet... walked over to me, from across the chamber, and smacked me across my face as hard as she could. “You are a filthy liar! Did you think for one moment I did not know what had passed between you and Ethniu when you went with the goddess of death, of all the people, to the Samhain sacrifices? There were eyes in the woods that night, and you were so lost in your... activities... with your own daughter. With our daughter! That you never noticed I had people watching you. I have suspected you two, for a long time now... and I am not sure which of the two of you corrupted the other more... but, you are both wholly corrupt now. But now I know, that you have done things together, things no parent and child should ever do! And I must despise you now. You and she both... and if you want me to ever love you again, my husband. My king! Then you will... here and now... name a husband for her. Or go out and fetch one, I care not even who, and set up some sort of betrothal between them. Get her into his house and out of mine! And then, then I shall love you. We will forget she was ever born, and all will go back to being exactly how things were before.” I then exploded verbally at her, proclaiming: “Back how things were? You mean when I was torturing myself and mortifying my very flesh in an attempt to bring Deirdre back from the dead! Up in the north, at my tower there, away from your spies. For that is what I was doing when I was away... unable to bear how bitterly I was pining away for my dead love. You never understood the bond Deirdre and I shared, even though you claimed to! You never truly understood me, either. But she... Deirdre... does. And I shall not see her in the arms of another whom she does not love! For she loves me, and me alone.” and Ethniu's slumber had been disturbed that night upon hearing my argument with her mother. She walked out of her bedroom and into the ceremonial hall, wearing a long white sleeveless nightdress with a linen cloak over it to keep her warm. She was barefoot, and moved quietly. She had overheard more than she may have liked ere she stormed into the room... her face red with anger as she screamed at her mother. She said unto her, as she screamed: “Listen to me, Kaitlin, you murderous bitch! I will call you mother no longer. Yes, I am indeed Deirdre. The same as she who fell in battle against the Fir Bolg, hacked near unto death by their blades ere I lay dying in the cabin of the ship that served as our headquarters during that conflict. Oh yes! I remember well your fat cow face looking over me as I lay dying. I remember the druid who served as my healer for the occasion telling you that I could be saved if you would but allow him to use one of your precious herbs in the mixture of the medicine he planned to thus create for me to imbibe. He said it would close my wounds quicker, buying me the time I needed to heal! But you would not let him use it... you let me bleed to death, and when I would not die quickly enough you took one of your pillows and smothered me in my sleep. You murdered me, you disgusting bitch! And now, you are showing your true colors, striking my love and demanding I be sent away. Well, you shall not have my sweet leaf! Do you understand me? Never shall anyone have my soulmate, but me. Tell me Kaitlin, did you cry when you told Balor how I died? Did you pretend that it bothered you to kill me! Balor, sweet leaf, my love... it was not the Fir Bolg who stole me from you. It was this woman here! The very same, whom the gods ordained would give me life once again... perhaps as punishment for her many sins, of which my murder was only one of countless. Ask The Morrgian if my words are true or if I lie! She will state that I speak fair and well.” and into the room strode the goddess of death herself, The Morrgian, in all of her glory. She said unto me: “Balor... it is true, what Deirdre says. Your wife was her true killer... not the Fir Bolg, whom you punished for it so mercilessly. And so now, what will the three of you do?” and the goddess's tone was as cold as ice. She was incapable of lying and everyone knew it. Kaitlin did look ashamed after that, and turned her back on us to gaze into the hearth. “Yes... I did do this deed. To my everlasting shame, and regret. I acted out of jealousy, Balor. I did not want to share you... with her.”
By her own words, Kaitlin's guilt was proven, and my heart turned against her forever. I knew not any love for her, after that admission, and in the instant of hearing it I wanted to strike her down. But, I had not the heart to slay her, even so... I was not a murderer like she was. And I pitied her... for to act as she did, showed that she thought she was second best in my eyes compared to Deirdre. Her evil actions, in killing the innocent woman I adored above all others in that life, had proved that she was unworthy of my love after all. I said unto her, as I stood there towering over her in judgment, even as she refused to look at me at all. “Now, it is I... who must despise you, Kar'mila Crom-Cruach. Henceforth, your family name shall be accursed in the lands of Eriu, and they shall call you 'The Crooked One'. There are many altars to you... and at every one of them you are revered as a goddess, and sacrifices are made unto you. The name of your great ancestor, Crom-Cruach, was honored in this country, and until tonight there had been no one living who would have spoke unfairly of him. But your deeds are foul, woman! And due to those deeds, your ancestral line has become accursed, for if your ancestor had been a good man then I am certain no issue from his lineage could be as venomous and serpent-like as yourself. Thus it falls to me to punish you for your crimes by proclaiming them in public on the morrow for all to hear and all to know. After the morrow, your altars will be abandoned and your statues broken. Those of old Crom will in turn be forsaken and shunned, and everywhere will your family name be shamed as the name of one who was naught but a worthless murderess. I never imagined you might be guilty of such a thing! But I had my suspicions as well about the story you told me regarding Deirdre's final moments. And so, my former wife... whose sin is worse, between the two of us? It will be seen before all of Eriu, that yours is the greater sin. And after tomorrow, I shall depart from Tara and leave you rule it alone and in shame. If you are able to redeem yourself by ruling over this kingdom well, then you may in time regain your lost honor. But until you do, the druids will mark you as a fallen goddess at best! And no one shall ever love you again, as I once loved you.” And The Morrigan spoke as well, stating before all three of us: “Thus has the High King of the Fomor spoken! And thus shall it be done as is commanded. I shall see to the legal matters required.” And she stormed off imperiously, intent at seeing justice done. I then left with Deirdre... with Ethniu... at my side, and we retired to her bedroom for the evening, leaving Kaitlin all alone with her crimes and sins, to ponder where she had gone so wrong. She was sobbing all through the night, and I would never know if she was sobbing for Deirdre or for herself. I never spoke with her again after that, and all night I had to console Deirdre, who wept in my arms as she tried to get through the reality of remembering how she had died in her previous life. It was a cold night, for all of us. But for the High Queen, who would become known henceforth as Queen Kaitlin the Crooked, it was very much the coldest night of all. For on the morrow, her reputation as a beloved ruler was to be destroyed.
I was there to see that justice was done, and The Morrigan spoke before the crowd that gathered in the city square at Tara, which in those days was the largest and most revered city in all the lands of Eriu. It was a scared and historical city, one where kings were crowned and gods were instated to be revered by all. It was, on this occasion, witness to a goddess being shamed and disgraced for the first time in all of its' history. Ethniu spoke out and went public with her true identity, describing for all present the details of her murder at Kaitlin's jealous hands. I waited to speak until all this was done, and then I did call on the druids of the land... who all bowed, to the will of The Morrigan, to pronounce their judgment upon she who had once been their High Queen. But their power in the land was greater and more honored by all than any kings or queens... for they spoke for the gods, and The Morrigan was the most terrifying out of all of those gods. Thus was Kaitlin named a criminal and a murderess, within the sight of all. And, to pay for her crime she was brought out and tied with thick ropes to a wooden post that was set up in the center of the city square... and, there, people threw garbage and rotten food at her, and threw wine and mead upon her, and mocked her. They were angry indeed, for she had thus lied to them as well as to us.
Women were allowed to strike her with their fists and with sticks, and men were allowed to call her the most terrible mocking names that they could come up with. Once this was done, she was untied and set free, and escorted back to the castle where she did not come out again to meet the angry crowds that gathered in ever greater numbers to vent their anger. And they made effigies of her with straw and they burned them, and she was denounced as a terrible queen, with many calling for her to be removed from power entirely. But before them all The Morrgian declared: “No! She must remain your queen, for only in that role can she seek to earn her redemption. And if she fails you, then shall she face the disgrace as only exile from the lands of Eriu can bring! And you will not need to ever lay your eyes upon her again after that.” and this was agreed upon, and it was well with the people that this was so. And thus did so begin the rein of High Queen Kaitlin the Crooked, who ruled alone for the remainder of her days until her death. Alone, unloved, and despised by her people despite that she was otherwise a good ruler for them. That night, I and my daughter... my reincarnated beloved... moved away from Tara forever. And we set out for my tower in the north arriving, ere long, at Ynys Gwydr, which ever after would be our home. It was for us a warm winter after all, for I made Ethniu my true queen in all but lawful title. And as such, she became known as the Queen of Shadows, for she had the heart of all the people... as did I. And all of our entire kingdom regarded her as the rightful High Queen. Were it not for The Morrgian's precise instructions and insistence upon Kaitlin remaining in power... I would have given Ethniu that very title, for she truly above all deserved it. But even I could not defy the will of the goddess of death itself, who always proved to be so wise. Before the winter had ended, I had made love with Deirdre in the form of Ethniu for the very first time... and we did so before the roaring hearth of our bedchamber in the tower that was now our royal palace. She wore a long scarlet gown tied with a purple sash belt, and the gown was beautiful with billowing sleeves tied at the wrists with drawstrings. About her neck was a necklace of black pearls, and in her nose she wore a golden nose ring... the very one that used to belong to her back when she was just simply Deirdre. She glided along as she made her way across the floor to where I awaited her upon our big, soft bed. I was unclothed, and I knew how terrible my form was to behold, with my mechanical arms and legs, and the black skin of my right hand, which was so at odds with my otherwise light skin tone, with its' slightly yellowish tint to it. And how unnatural it was that my back looked, with the ridged exo-spine that ran up and down the entire length of it. Red lights lit up upon the exo-spine whenever I moved, and as a whole I was a complete synthesis of mortal and machine. Even my ribs were metal... and my height had been increased to eight feet by the mad doctor who had saved my life by remaking me into this titanic image. I had many scars upon my chest, and all over my back, some of them from battle and some from self torture and self mutilation. My face was no longer without lines from age and years of care and worry, and I kept my head shaved... so I had no hair left, nor did I have any upon my entire body, right down to my eyebrows. The only hair that remained on me was my eyelashes. Even so, Deirdre found me beautiful, and the young girl sat down on the bed next to me, beginning our lovemaking with the sweetly whispered words: “Lie back, sweet leaf!” and I did as she asked. She straddled my tall form, wrapping her legs about me as she began to kiss me from my lips, which she kissed passionately and fiercely, all the way downward. I felt her lips fall upon the shaft of my manhood, and her hands assisted her lips in arousing me powerfully. It was erect from her skillful manipulations, and as she did this I played with her breasts and squeezed them gently. “I want you to take me, my love! Take me now!” She said seductively and insistently. As she straddled me, on top of me, she helped me to enter her... and I did thrust in and out of her, until she shrieked a bit when her virginity was claimed at last by my thrusting. In a mixture of pain and pleasure, she gave into the heat of the moment and moved her body up and down upon my shaft, her breasts jiggling as she did so. I rested my hands upon her hips as I took her, and so intense was that taking that our pleasure was far greater than either of us had expected to experience. “Oh, I love you! I love you so much, sweet leaf!”
That was what she cried out upon experiencing her first orgasm, and her excitement made me climax inside of her. Before that night was over... we would make love several more times... one time, she was on her back with her legs spread wide. Another, she bent over so I could claim her from behind. Always I was careful with her fleshly body, so that I would not hurt her as we savored our acts of intercourse. I knew the strength I was capable of, and so I made certain not to be too rough with her during all of this. Outside the chamber where we gave in to every primal urge we had previously fought against indulging in, the winter air was cold and chill, with a great wind blowing across the northern parts of the land. At the end, we lay in bed together, both of us slick with sweat and the scent of our union fresh upon me. I took a cloth to clean the blood from the bed that had resulted when the girl lost her virginity, and then I cleaned our other spilled fluids a bit, resigning myself to having the servants take care of the worst of it once the morning arrived. I slept soundly, with Deirdre lying next to me and our shared warmth keeping us comfortable throughout the remainder of the night. She kept staring into my eyes every so often, as if she wanted to savor every second of our shared tenderness, as if she might never see me again. I said to her during one of those times, when I woke up from my dreams: “Darling, it is alright! We will be able to be together forever now, fear not.” to which she replied: “I know, sweet leaf! I know... it is just that, I find you so very wonderful to look upon. We are both of us much changed from who we once were, and yet we are so very much the same as ever! It just... I want to savor who and how we both are during this very moment, so that I can remember it for all of time. I was so lonely where I was, dear one... but now I am warm and happy, and with you once again. What could the blessed realms give me, to compare?” And for some reason those words seemed ominous to hear. I fell asleep after that, and thought not of it.
From that night of love, a child was born after nine months, and the child who was born from us was a boy whom we named Lugh, which was a name that in the language of the Fomor meant “Light”. We planned to raise him at our tower home, and intended for him to one day become the rightful heir to the throne of our kingdom. He would one day reign in Tara as High King, and he would inherit a land that knew only peace and plenty. That was what we wished to grant him! Ethniu was fifteen years old when he was born, but she had the heart and mind of a queen twice her age. However, it seemed that the part of her that had been Deirdre was no longer there, just as The Morrgian had said would happen. But the part of her that was still Ethniu was so much like Deirdre that I remained happy with her nonetheless. I saw very little changed in her, save that she no longer called me her sweet leaf. But we found other little pet names that were equally endearing to call one another, and our love and devotion to each other got only deeper and more meaningful with time. Once Lugh was about four years old, we made plans to be sending him off to Tara in order to begin his education with the druids and teachers that awaited. They would tutor him in all the ways that Ethniu had been taught, only of course he would receive the added education, when old enough, of the ways of the warrior. For as a boy, he would need such skills as part of learning how to be a proper king. We lacked the services required to conduct such an education at the isle of Ynys Gwydr, and so it was arranged for Lugh to spend a single week and a half out of each and every month at Tara... where he would stay with The Morrgian, who would handle the details of how it was his education was to be shaped. She was waiting for his arrival, and had agreed with me that it was for the best if the boy had no contact with the High Queen, who I feared might harbor him some ill will. She had killed once out of jealousy, and I dared not risk that she might now kill out of spite. That, was why I chose the goddess of death to be his protector. For even Kaitlin the Crooked would not dare risk the displeasure of Death herself! I had a bad feeling, the day that the druids from Tara came by chariot in order to take Lugh back with them, and something told me that I should have gone along with them. But, I trusted that all would be well, and sent the boy away after giving him a big hug and a pat on his head. His mother likewise hugged him... and kissed his forehead, tenderly. We bid him a fond farewell.
And never again did we see the boy, or hold him in our arms. When next I would meet Lugh, it would be on the field of battle, and on that fateful day I would be slain by him. For we had not heard of what it was that was transpiring off in the lands of the Tuatha de Danann... and how the people there had begun to grow very tired of the rule of their High King. Bres had, in my service, been a trustworthy advisor as well as a skilled diplomat with a silver tongue that was so cunning, he served as my voice in the land. A position now held by The Morrgian herself. During the time that had passed since he gained the crown of the children of Dana, Bres had gone from being a worthy king to becoming a greedy tyrant. Of old, it was agreed upon that I would be the landlord for the Tuatha de Danann, and that they would pay me my due in order to retain the right to live upon the land whereon their kingdom was established. Land that I owned prior to their arrival on the shores of Eriu. The required taxes were collected once a year, and it was Bres who was assigned the duty of collecting them, and sending the money to Tara, to be stored in the royal treasury there. In the treasury, it would then be used for the good of both kingdoms, and thus the people were content. But over time, Bres became enamored with money and power, and he seized a great deal more in taxes than was required of him to procure... with all of the extra ending up appearing in his own private treasury. Every year, he increased the taxes without either my knowledge or consent. And never had such a burden been placed upon the Tuatha de Danann before! He forced many of their menfolk to work as slaves in his gem mines in order to make up the difference in what he claimed was owed to me, and their women oft resorted to prostitution in order to ease their husbands' burdens. It got to be so terrible... that many great princes, and even some of the minor kings under Bres' rule, had been forced to toil by his tyrannical hand. The noble Ogma was forced to carry firewood to warm the hearth at the castle where Bres reigned, and the former High King of the children of Dana, the burly old bear of a warrior known as The Daghda, who had himself ruled over his people before Nuada did... was in turn forced by Bres to dig trenches around the wicked ruler's forts. All because the workers who should have been performing that task had already been sent off to the mines. The customs and traditions that governed the laws of hospitality were ignored, and one of the most famed poets of the children of Dana, a man named Cairbre, composed and did in public recite a scathing and sadly all too accurate poem that was in mockery and critique of Bres and his rule. A poem that was a huge success with the people! It is said that Bres demanded the poet be punished, for tarnishing his image, but that his guards whom he so sent to enact the punishment refused to do so, instead congratulating Cairbre on creating such a brilliant work of poetic art. That was the beginning of the end, for the harsh reign of High King Bres, and in the shortest time imaginable the people of his kingdom began to turn upon him... but they had believed his lies that the money they owed in taxes was the correct amount, and their hate towards Bres grew until it also was directed towards me. For they saw me as the true power behind Bres, and they knew not that I had nothing whatsoever to do with his deceit. By the time I would learn the full and awful details of all these things, all of these turbulent events... it would be too late to stop the war that resulted from them. The children of Dana... all of them, save for The Morrgian who did not count herself among their kind, turned against me, and there was open rebellion against not just Bres but against Fomor rule in general, in the lands wherein Bres ruled. The folk of my kingdom knew the truth, however, and so did Kaitlin to her credit attempt to speak out and inform all she could that I was innocent in this matter. She met with diplomats from the Tuatha de Danann who would not listen to her because of her reputation as being a liar and a murderess, and they called her “Kaitlin of the Crooked Teeth”, saying she lied even through her very teeth. In the end, though they did not declare war upon us... the stopped paying our taxes and kicked Bres out of their country, forcing him into exile. After that, they stopped dealing with me or my people, and became reclusive, closing their borders to us. I was their landlord no longer... and now the land was divided, for our two kingdoms had gone their separate ways due to all this. During the chaos and confusion of these events... Lugh's chariot never made it to Tara, and his fate was not known to me.
Published 13th Nov 2022
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 195
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
