A Promise Kept
Cainwen: Silly people, did you really think I would forget the importance of the name?
John stared at the ceiling above his bed. He couldn't see the ceiling because it was so dark in the room, but he knew it was there, and he stared at it, mulling over his dreams.
John Sheppard did not normally think about his dreams—either they were silly and pointless, or they were nightmares, and he did not like to pay attention to either—it was a waste of time.
But John found himself pondering over his dreams of the past five nights, the five nights after his escape with a wraith from Kolya.
That wraith was definitely weird as far as wraith went, John thought. What kind of wraith calls a human his brother? For that matter, what kind of wraith passes up not one, but two meals? On their way back to the jumper, they had found one of Kolya's men, who said that his life had been spared by the wraith on the condition that he help bring down Kolya.
But what was keeping John awake tonight were the dreams. John paid attention because they weren't the normal kind of dream that he had about Wraith. Hell, it wasn't like any dream he had ever had.
Every night, he dreamed of wraith families—not a hive, but families. He thought that there were five total, but it was kind of hard to tell, there were so many kids and adults and semi-adults. And none of them were skulking about in the darkness, terrorizing people. Most of the time, the adults were working or talking and the kids were playing in a sunlit field. It was like watching old family movies, except the people were Wraith, and the home was a hive.
It wasn't perfect, these images of life he had been shown. Sometimes the adults were arguing heatedly over engines and the right course of action. Sometimes a wraith-kid would get hurt.
Once he had been shown a wraith feeding. But it wasn't like the feedings he had witnessed before. The wraith met with an elderly woman at dusk in a wooded clearing full of wild flowers. The woman was coughing terribly and she was wrapped in blankets as though she were cold. The wraith had asked if she had said good-bye to her family, if she had any unfinished business with anyone. The woman had replied, no, she was ready to go home. The wraith and the woman recited something back and forth to each other that John couldn't understand, but it sounded like a prayer or a litany he had heard in a church once. Then the wraith lay a land on the old woman's head, and the woman went to sleep. The wraith fed, but then lay the corpse of the old woman out on a flat rock, and covered her with a shroud. The wraith bowed its head, and John would have sworn it sang a lament.
This had given him food for thought, but this wasn't what bothered him, not really.
The wraith had told John its name.
Cullough.
What kind of name it was exactly, John didn't know. He had mentioned it Dr. Beckett, who said that it sounded like the Scots-Gaelic name, which meant "brave man".
Why Dr. Beckett knew the meaning of Scottish names was a question probably best left unanswered, John had told himself.
But the wraith had told him his name. Not only that, but he had also told John why wraith never told their name to anyone they had just met. Something about curses and power over the person and the name being the person. But the wraith, or Cullough, John supposed he ought to think of him, had trusted John...had called him not only a brother, but also a son. When John saw the son Cullough was comparing him to, he realized it was a compliment.
"Cullough"
"Brave Man"
The End
Cainwen: By the way, I will attempt to explain why the ancient wraith spoke gaelic in the context of the story, but in truth its because I can't make up a language and Gaelic sounds(literally. go listen to some it you don't believe me) like the perfect language for wraith. Now, Please review!!!!