Aingeal's Path

[Deleted]

Raising her folded hand to her forehead a tiny bow of her head as she passed the Meer guard, making her way to the one place that was meant for rest and enlightenment; but her visit today was only brief, with Alisiea still in some state walking on a rope between life and death. Nythrax constant questioning; it was only a matter of time before he lost patience and traveled to Mariko's. "He'd destroy the place" Aingeal said to herself aloud. "Gods... Renthar will bring chaos enough"... No her visit was to only regain something that she long ago buried beneath the great Mother Tree, where the Wise Women of old had constructed.

Ducking down beneath the expansive Terrance that made up the floor of the refuge above and just as she left it, the small megalith she made from the river stones not far from there. Pulling the rocks back one by one until the brilliant blue of the cloth was visible. Reaching in Aingeal pulled the small bundle from its resting place. Crouching down Aingeal untied the wrapping and the book appeared. The leather binding was sable brown with a delicate gold leafing in an ornate design. Clinching it close to her chest, she made her way up the wooden steps to one of the small huts to view its contents.

Sitting on the straw mat, Aingeal carefully opened the book. Bits of maps, old missives, letters written by those that had left this plane to explore the next poured from it prison. "Would anyone believe me if I ever told them?", The parchment was growing weak and frail, but Aingeal unfolded it looking upon the light-hand of her Mother's writing. "What would you do Mother? I need your help..." reading the notes and bound minutes from old meetings and decrees hoping something would possibly be of help. Falling back on her ass, she let out a loud huff.

Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander, finding her mother veiled deep in her mind. Her face was hidden to her, but only the memories of the flowers, the endless blue sky and the quiet lap of the sea onto the break wall. The bells she wore on her ankles would always put Aingeal in a trance, that slow drawn gait that announced her mother's every step. Opening her eyes and sitting straighter, "Well your coming with me for the time being. I am not sure if I will be free to come here anytime soon" quickly wrapping the blue cloth, tucking it into her belt. Have to see Alisiea." she said to herself walking out the door

[Deleted]

Turning the page carefully, Aingeal continued to see the world through her mother's eyes. "She was ambitious" Aingeal thought, wondering how she could seem to be the complete opposite of her. "I must be more like my father", Aingeal thought. Looking up at the sun threw the canopy that hung like the tent roofs she remembers growing up in.

Those she was sired with were not the people she came from.
Was more than apparent; her foster family were fair with ruddy cheeks and light eyes. For the most part, quite kind to her, she had to do chores with their daughters, treating her with little sign of favoritism; just this odd distance she didn't quite get till the day the wise women came for her.

Two of the only things she took with her from the camp nestled in the mountain ranges, a necklace the family gave her the day she left and this book; This book of her mother's thoughts for a period of time. It began so abruptly...


...I feel it is important to put these thoughts to page in the fears that there will be nothing more of me then this if they fail. My conceit knows little bound, nor will I try to mask them now. It's been a month since you're father was lost on the field of battle. Out of respect for him, or favors offered in return for our safe passage, we find ourselves in a filthy barracks listening to the cries that carry over the city walls of men fighting...

...You're so little my girl. I will tell you what I see, you have my hair, my skin color, but your eyes are all your father's. I feel when I look upon you, his staring back at me. I am glad for that. His commanding officer has us hidden here for now. But I promise I will have you in a proper home with good things and no fighting.

Closing her eyes tightly, making them flash with star bursts of bright white light, trying to force the memory into her conscience mind. Opening her eyes defeated, Aingeal turned the page, scanning the words only reading parts here and there.

...One of the great joys I take is seeing you climb the garden wall. You've grown, but next to the other favored daughters you're still stunted. I hate the separation you must endure while I am confined to the end of my term. I take solace that in delivering a son to him, it will make our place here secure.

"Did she have the promised Son?" Aingeal asked herself each time she read this bit. With another turn of the page some dried flowers slide from the crease of the binding. Instinctively Aingeal picked one up and smelled it. No fragrant reminder of spring; but more a musty smell came from the dried and fragile petals.



Picking up the bottle of wine Aingeal took a long drink. Resting the book at her feet, she looked at it, crumbs of the flowers littered the page. "I do remember the tiny bundle that slept next to her", She said to herself.

Perching there Aingeal looked out from the hill she had staked out as her own for the time being. Aingeal began to laugh..Loudly..."Oh Fates"...

...Nothing is as it was suppose to be my dear girl.
My benefactor has decided he wishes to see you wear the bells once you're old enough. He feels you would be a lovely addition to his household. I overheard him speaking to his confidant. This I cannot allow. IT is not the life I wished for you. Not hidden behind high walls. His promises of an education will stop shortly. Daughter I hope you will forgive me for what is to come to pass. A fire headed girl that is newly acquired speaks of a free people that have little to do with the city dwellers and speaks of their children free to roam and explore. More for you to see then the walled garden that seems to give you contentment for now. But your so much like your father, these walls will drive you mad.

This will be my last entry... A testament to my willingness to risk everything to see you free of this place. Forgive me for being a great fool in trusting this man. Forgive me for having to set you on your own when your still so young. I am assured you will be well looked after they will not turn a child away. So this is how we hurried you out of the house gates and into the wilds.

Aingeal threw the book from her and took another drink.

"Forgiveness"

twisting her hair and tying it in a knot at the the top of her head,a mass of dark hair bobbing as she reached out to pick up the book again. For years she had carried this with her, never daring to truly read it, only to look at the words, the fluid motion of her mother's written hand. Studying the small illustrations of the garden... the way the house she was born in looked... Design of her Father's tartan; rudimentary drawing that vaguely gave any resemblance of what it must of looked like. Odd things that must of caught her mother's eye or what she felt was important for her to know as she grew up. "Another night"... Finishing the bottle, Aingeal took the book wrapping it back in the blue cloth, softly running her hand over the top of the book, "Another time".

Leaning against the tree, Aingeal took the small pouch that was constantly her companion. Untying the leather strap, the pouch blossomed revealing the tools of her trade; a pinch of golden rod, eyebright, coltsfoot and damianna. Looking around her, thankfully there was a flat stone, she began to grind the herbs together. Chanting lowly to herself seemed the air around her ceased to move, the words flowed from her:

"I invoke thee, the Mother of us all. The one that is the ever watchful, as I find protection beneath the Holy branches of the Yew Tree; ruler of clairvoyant powers.
I ask thee now to open my third eye And show me the hidden light"

A thin wisp of smoke began to rise from the small pile of herbs.

"Let me see the past. Let me perceive the divine Kingdoms of the unknown."

The smoke curled round her chin, caressing up her cheeks, invading her nostrals. Taking a long slow deliberate breath, the assault to her senses always stung. Aingeal's head swung back violently, a raspy haggard breath escaped her, as if being held under water; her body fighting for air. Her eyes opened staring into empty space and before her eyes as if a flood gate had been opened the visions flowed:

...Sitting on the edge of the chair, she watched as her mother tied a piece of cloth around her ankle to silence the bells.... Her hair was so dark and shiny.... Scooping her up in her arms kissing the top of her head, her mother moved down the hall towards the tall doors that ushered the outside world...

Through the haze... Aingeal could feel her hand in her's walking in the woods. Not far from the gate there stood an older woman, ruddy cheeks, gray strands sprinkled throughout her hair... She held her twisted fingers towards Aingeal, "Come child we have little time". Tears streamed down her face, as much in the vision but in the realm she now found herself. The old woman grabbed her arm began to walk away. Aingeal tried to pull from her, but she continued to walk into the woods, looking back through the brush and low branches, she could see her mother, standing there, both hands covering her mouth, not allowing a single sound to escape her.

..The tent seemed to breath with each passing breeze....The walls expanding, the cloth snapped back and forth... Aingeal stood over the child; she stood over herself....

The haze thickened. and then nothing...
Scrambling to all fours Aingeal heaved the bile that demanded to be expelled. Always the price for using such herbs. Wiping her mouth and looking out at a twlight wood. The small song that only the Wisps and Fae used to communicate. The ash blew disappearing into the grass; leaning against the tree trying to get her legs beneath her, Aingeal stood wobbly, but the treehouse was not far off, a place of solace and peace, Her place left as her legacy.