Perran the Spriggan
No one gets hurt, it’s all back by Sunday. It’s only fun if everyone is having fun. Otherwise, it stops.
The stories we tell are rich with the combined imagination of all shire members. What story do you have to tell?
No one gets hurt, it’s all back by Sunday. It’s only fun if everyone is having fun. Otherwise, it stops.
It’s a man’s curse to see himself only as that which he lacks, and it’s his blessing to have friends that have the wisdom to see him as he really is.
“The MacBroins have always been a disgrace,” continued the pale boy. “They have always been liars, cowards, and failures. You, though, are the crowning jewel. You’ll always be the pale, sniveling boy waiting for mother to come back.”
She sat back, and he was released from the spell holding him. “Now, make your way to the kitchens before you die.”
Lorcan sneered as he looked over the cliff at the dragon. “That man doesn’t deserve rest. Not in life, nor in death.”
He made sure to find a way to not only touch the falling water, but also fill up his water-sack with the cool, crisp water before returning to a specific ledge that jutted out into the cavern. Sitting down, with his feet dangling over the edge, Kane pulled out a few tasty morsels from his back pack and looked out over cavern below him as he ate.
“Boy,” he said, “take it from a very old warrior, there is indeed a dragon here. And, nothing is unkillable.” He smiled bitterly, “not even a god.”
“‘No, you can’t feel pain. You’re not smart. YOU ARE EVIL!’ I yelled at it.”
“Lorcan, Mimir’s Well is sacred to the men of the North. Drinking its waters gives you wisdom and power beyond mortal reckoning. Even the gods respected and feared the place, and few of them even dared to take a drink.”
But when he streaked his blood across the first tree, something strange began to happen…
He was a protector and powerful being. And he grew into his power as he aged into adulthood…
As we neared the ruins of the ancient castle near to the Heart of Woodland I breathed in the scent of the trees. I felt the canopy filtered sunlight playing across my skin. I could hear the flow of water and the sounds of all the wild things that live in the hidden depths of the forest. The air tasted of blossoms and honey. There really is no place so lovely as Woodland in the spring.
Knowledge of what lies within Ellesbeth cairn is whispered at firesides by the very old to those young enough to believe them. Most people avoid graves. I went to find a way in.