The Legend Ch. 01

Before her presence stood the most ruggedly beautiful human her path had ever crossed. The face was smooth aside from a shadow of dark stubble, the eyes deep set and fired with the spirit of jade and sapphires together beneath his black brows. Tiny lines branched out from the corners of the orbs, he also having definite lineage at each corner of his mouth as a stamp of merry character. It was all she could do not to take to the breeze and funnel around him as she had done in her learning days, just to feel the contours of his body. All of these feelings were strange and new to her, for the spirit was not even remotely familiar with the ways of man and woman.

The stranger glanced around cautiously, almost as if he could feel the spirit watching him. Cupping his hands and plunging them into the frigid waters, he took a drink. Moments later the stranger stood with the liquid still trickling down his chin, only his eyes were strangely enough in the direction in which the presence lingered over the mirroring falls. In this extended hush the man seemed to be taking a matter into consideration. Then came his voice breaking the barriers of solitude, it rich and fluid with a marked accent and deep tone.

“Whoever ye are ye best beh comin’ out. Dun beh thinkin’ fer a moment I cannae feel ye, fer if ye do, ye beh a fool.” It was beautiful down to every last twist of tongue even if he hadn’t meant it to be so. She was enamored in an instant with the heavy influence of the Scots hanging on his every word. Though the spirit had no reason to come forth, it was now tempted to do so. An unsettling urge just to please this human had intruded into her soul. Once again he repeated himself and stood patiently as the water rippled, it being the only answering to his demand.

It could no longer deny the stranger of his request. Natural death was years away from this man, as she could see in his life force. Violent death was only traceable to her within days of it’s coming. Moreover, that was not visible that she could foresee. Even in her acknowledgment of this, she began to pull the warmth from the glade around her. The presence began gathering the molecules from the living foliage and the lake itself for the energy to manifest. The chill began to steal through the forest, the flora hanging their heads in silent awareness and vines wilting against trees. The mists billowed furiously over the surface of the water as it’s form began to take shape. An outline, just a silhouette before the fog became dense. Then there were shoulders, then arms, followed by the rest of a female body. The mists parted and in her transparent state she stepped forth, yet still lingered over the waters giving herself a Christ-like quality. It hovered in midair with the long dark tendrils of hair whipping around the haunting image, eyes agleam as it watched this human.

Greatly to the spirit’s surprise there came no fear from the man. Most would have darted off in the other direction with an almost comical velocity. Yet here he stood, dark brows furrowing before his features once again went slack. The apparition dared not speak for now it felt foolish in the face of his beauty. A Greek sculptor with God-given hands could not have replicated him. Embarrassment wound around the spirit’s emotions like an angered serpent.

With a sweeping of thought and much less effort than it had taken to project the form, it began to call it in. A release of icy air blasted forth as the energy gathered was set upon the world once more to return to the forest. Starting with the feet and instantly working the way up it started to vanish as it gave up the apparitional illusion. It’s higher self was enticed by the placid water once more as it offered the winsome young man a final glance. At this moment little did she know this man was her undoing.

The stranger’s whole body had stiffened…this feet parting ceremoniously. Tilting his head back those incredible eyes closed, his arms rising in a V formation towards the skies. A cry to the heavens leapt forth slicing the biting silence that had cast its glamour since his only utterance. The spirit took in what he was doing with amusement for she thought it odd. Was he to think their gods sent her and take to the worship of a shade that wasn’t even a true form? A mere trick of light and concentration?

“Foolish” She thought.

It was of no consequence, for he pressed on. The spirit grew uneasy when it felt a charge in the air building within the area around where it chose to hover bodiless and watch. Leaves chimed with a rattling shimmer as a breeze lifted throughout her home. All that was celestial seemed for a whispered moment to dim. A hush flooded in like an unwelcome plague killing off and muffling her beloved woodland creatures and even the lapping of the waters themselves.

That’s when she was conscious of what was coming to be. This…whatever this man was doing…was aimed at her! The presence could sense energies surging and leaping about her, wrapping and coiling around her energy like a thousand greedy vines. A blinding light had ensconced the fog, funneling around her and confusing her senses. All the while she could hear him. His strange fluid voice called out in a language unknown to the spirit’s ears. Without warning the scene came to a standstill and hence the eerie quiet resumed.

The Scotsman slowly folded his arms over his chest, the mannerism almost cocky and playful when paired with the smirk, which began to dance across his thin lips. His stare seemed to burn a hole right through her. The apparition’s awareness had picked up on something. That’s when she realized what she was feeling. For the first time ever, it was not immune to cold. She was standing in icy water up to her waist instead of swirling about its surface. This was impossible! Only to add to this shock, the spirit realized her form was solidified. An entrapment of soft flesh and radiating warmth. It was horrified! It loved their kind well enough indeed, but to actually become one of them? Never.

Again and again in the minutes that passed she attempted to extract her essence from the new prison. Effort after effort failed. The stranger observed the woman with wordless amusement on the banks. The maiden began to fill with contempt for what he had caused and all that he had taken from her. Her stare met the stranger’s accusingly as anger grew inside of her.

“What have you done to me?” The woman demanded and started towards him. The cold against her new skin had become rather plaguing. She began to thrash through the water towards land. All the while her eyes did not stray from the man. This evil piper who with his beauty had led her into what she was sure would eventually be her doom. The woman made it to the shore with water dripping from her dress. Masses of her dark hair remained plastered to her arms and back.

“I, milady have just captured mi’self one of the faery-folk I would beh guessin’.” The sir answered coyly with laughter gleaming in his eyes. No doubt about it, he was definitely an arrogant Scotsman down to the bone.

The maiden stood on the bank within feet of this man. She could have wrapped her hands around his neck at that moment and it would not have bothered her. A furious manifestation of flesh and bone now stared him in the eyes, trembling with a roaring storm of anger boiling within.

“You could not even begin to imagine what you have done. I am not meant to be this way. I can feel myself dying as we speak. To enter into flesh is to decay. To be born is to die.” Her teeth clenched and the tone of voice fell an octave or two. The woman’s hands closed into two tense fists. “Who…do you think you are? You are not a god, nor spirit. A mere mortal perverting nature.” A glare met his calm expression. All the while she could have spat fire.

“I beh learned and for this reason I do as I will. If it is in my ability, so be it. I do naught tae pervert nature, ye are tha perversion. Jus’ look at yerself. Ye beh taller by a nigh a head than any man I beh knowin’. When ye fashioned yerself ye certainly didnae make tha mold of any common village wench.” He chuckled a bit. “Ye even made sure ye had perfect teeth. A village woman ‘round these parts would at least beh missin’ a few.”

The former apparition continued to huff while listening and glaring down to his level. He hadn’t been fabricating what he was seeing. The Scotsman was staring at a woman that stood a good six feet and a few inches. Rare even in the men of this time. She only towered, however, over this particular man by a couple inches. No matter, she still looked down on him with utter contempt.

“Surely if ye stay hih like that ye will beh killed on sight. Mayhap even worse if an army passes through. A woman haf nae place alone, especially a fair lady. Even if she doth be a giantess with only skin clingin’ tae ‘er bones.” He offered a broad grin.

“Do not trouble yourself with my appearance. I’m sure your reputation is only exceeded by that of your arrogance.” His lips twisted to the side for a moment as he looked as if he were about to protest. Swiftly she cut him off. “Alas, you are being honest. What you have done to me will not permit me to remain here. I will follow you into the next village or until I can find refuge.”

Her head hung in defeat. There was no doubt that she would miss her home. No matter, maybe this would prove to be a blessing. The loneliness may cease, she thought to myself.

Willingly the man allowed her to tag along. This was much easier on her part because unlike him, she had no belongings to haul. Upon the second day of travel the woman began to feel strange. Leaning against a tree she stopped to catch her breath. Everything was spinning. Her hand found her midsection.

The Scotsman stopped and looked back in my direction. “What beh tha matter with ye?” he asked furrowing his thick brow. Purposefully he jabbed his gnarled staff into the soft earth and neared her.

“It burns here…and the trees are spinning.” The willowy creature muttered in response.

The man took a step back and considered silently, his thumb brushing his newly bearded chin. Next to the tree where she stood, he then removed his sack and threw it carelessly to the ground. She watched as he began to fumble through it, searching for something. He produced a small bow and a couple of crude arrows.

Glancing at her with a smile he replied, “Aye, it’ll beh alright. I think ye jus’ beh hungry. We’ll beh settin’ up hih tae eat and rest till tha morrow. I beh goin’ tae fetch us some food.” With that her new companion traced off into the thicket.

The maiden sat alone in the fading light of day with her back against the same tree, as she dared not move. Her new self had brought about fear, something she never had to worry with before the transformation. She was a stranger to her own form even if it was still the image she had created. The same long limbed, frail creature with vivid turquoise eyes and sable tresses. Now it was his creation, this mortal. That man had ensconced her in this body in which she could not understand. A deep sigh filtered over her lips.

The woman knew not long had passed before the stranger’s return, it had only seemed as though an eternity loomed over her. There was something hanging from his arrow, dangling lifelessly against the dying evening. A healthy gray rabbit.

“Aye…told ye I’d find something tae eat. That didnae take long at all did it, eh?” he smiled down at her.

Recoiling, she pushed herself up from the sitting position. So many times she had watched creatures just as this frolic through the glen. She loved them so…and here before stood this monster…

“I will not eat that.” The dark haired beauty snarled while looking away in disgust

Raising a brow the Scotsman then groaned. “Ye are gonna beh difficult are ye nae? Well ye dun hafta eat it. More fer meh. I’ll scrape ye up some roots tae eat. Ye will change yer mind soon ‘nough.” With that he took to building a small fire.

The night pressed on as they sat on a bed of leaves watching the fire dancing in its pit. The bones of the rabbit lie in a ravaged pile at the man’s feet now. At the maiden’s feet were the small pits of fruit from a near-by tree and swaging branches that had once held fat red berries.

“Ye haf been travelin’ fer two days now and ye haf nae told meh yer name. I know ye are happy with meh naught, but at least ye could let me know wot tis that I should call ye.” He informed her with a tired glance.

“I have no name other than what I have been named in the stories of man. No need had I for one before I met you.” No aggravation presented itself in her voice this time. The anger she held for this creature had slowly begun to wan over the time she remained in his company.

“Bansidhe…Diafol (devil)…Morrioghain, these are some of the names I’ve heard when the townfolk refer to me.” She informed him flatly.

“Aye.” He slid a finger across his squared chin thoughtfully “We shall haf tae change that M’lady. Until then ye can call meh Llwellyn.” Following that brief introduction he sprawled out on the pile of leaves, his breathing becoming swallowed and soft.

Lying on her back, she gazed up at the stars through the broken spaces between trees. It appeared to the woman as a map to heaven close enough to touch. Each star was a soul possessing it’s own life and inner fire. The moon, in her fanciful state, represented their one god. In spirit form, she had never been one to appreciate the heavens and celestial beauty. She could find shapes and patterns within their hypnotic winking. This made her smile as her eyes closed and sleep gently discovered her.