Author's Note: I'm happy that some of you liked my prologue enough to fav/follow it, and even review. It's a great boost to my desire to write more. The rest of you are probably waiting to see what I'm going to do before commenting, which is totally understandable (I do it too). If anyone who reads this has suggestions or ideas, please let me know, I'm completely open to them.

Hannah and Elshana's relationship is based off my own with my mother. We have a weird and wacky way of showing affection that makes other people question our sanity, or others laugh their buttocks off.

Chapters may be slow since I only seem to be motivated to write during downtime at work. If I can wean myself off of Star Wars: The Old Republic I may get them done faster.

Disclaimer: I am not following historical accuracy ninety percent of the time. I'll try as hard as I can though. Also don't own Mass Effect or I'd have a Turian hidden in my closet.

Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames/hate will be used to make S'mores with.

Author's Note II: Edited this chapter as well and added some things.

Spiorad Foraois

Chapter 1 – Open Doorways

By ClaretAmazon

c. AD 235

"I'm telling you, màthair, you're seeing things again." The last few straps of worn bracers were slipped into place. An old and weathered bow was taken from its resting place on the wall. So many of them littered that south wall it made Hannah think her home had become an armory. "And stop pouting."

"My home. I'm allowed to pout." She crossed her arms over her chest and intensified the pout. "Did you even look when I told you?"

Her daughter shook her head and made a show of studying her hair. "It's the light, nothing more! You really are seeing things, màthair, have you been in the mead again?" A laugh escaped her when the enchantress batted a hand at her.

"Och, fool child!" Hannah gave her the evil eye, hiding her smile as her devil child laughed harder. "You'll understand when you get to my age."

"If you let me live so long."

"Of course. Now be careful, Elshana, you don't need to be hurting yourself again." Oh, she couldn't help it. Every time the warrior went to Dun Faileas' walls she came home with some new bruise or cut. She had never outgrown that. It would take the hands of the entire Keep's populace to count how many injuries she had sustained. Hannah wasn't sure that it would even be enough.

Elshana had always been a precocious child from the day she'd been born. Quiet when other babes screamed for hours, healthy when the winter illnesses came. In later years, Elshana would sneak away to lurk in the Smith's workshop, watched the men practicing their archery and sword arms. It was not commonplace for a woman or girl to be interested in such things. The harder that Hannah pushed her towards the herbery of witchcraft the more the girl was found on the training grounds.

So it was with little surprise that the Weapons Master finally allowed her to train with the boys. Most folks had decided that after a taste of combat Elshana would leave the foolishness behind to follow her mother's footsteps.

The eve of her first day both Hackett and Elshana had shown up on her doorstep. Her first reaction had been panic. Her little girl was bruised and bloodied, missing a tooth in her wide grin. Hannah's thoughts were derailed when Hackett began to speak. Elshana had refused to be coddled, insisted in participating in the older boys bouts. Even with the layers of leather padding and her practice sword she had been thoroughly beaten every time by every opponent.

That wasn't why he was there, he said. Her daughter never stayed down, no matter how bad the loss was. He was impressed by her stubbornness, and by the potential he saw in her. The long sword was not for her; however, he wanted to tutor her in archery and daggers.

The raven-haired child had taken to the new weapons like a bird to air, fish to water. Hannah still remained anxious over her daughter taking part in the more physical aspects of warfare. It would be so much safer if she just used magick. When she came of age the conjurer could sense the hidden gift in her, stronger even than her own magick.

Hannah had tried to reach for it, to show her daughter. The first time she touched it was the last time, echoes of an old pain riddling her bones. The currents of power felt wrong, twisted purple instead of a reflection of the element she was most attuned to. Shades of gray for air, brown for earth, red and orange for fire and deep blues for water. Purple was unnatural, something she'd never seen before. For a long time she had been convinced that some mischievous spirit had influenced her daughters spirit.

Her own reaction to it always buzzed at the back of her brain. She couldn't remember like it seemed to want her to, only foggy glimpses of stone coming to her mind. The aberrant nature of it never harmed her girl over time, and so she let it be.

She was broken from her thoughts by a quick kiss on her cheek and the sight of her daughter rushing from their home before another conversation could start again. "I love you too, El."

•••••••

Elshana took the steps two-by-two up the wall. The day was rather misty, clouds threatening rain. It was just another day in Caledonia for her. She looked forward to the time spent on the wall with the other men, the chance to loosen an arrow in the protection of her home. There hadn't been an opportunity for some time now outside of the hunts for food.

There had been rumors the Queen would host a meeting of the Clans and have a competition of arms, brews and songs. If such whisperings were true it would be a great chance for fun, for new blood to come and go in the Highlands. She looked forward to any archery event there may be, and roundly defeating any challenger. Men not of her Clan doubted the strength of her arm and the speed of her arrows. They laughed until she struck true on every target presented, moving or not. No one mocked her again after those competitions.

Those weren't the only rumbles shaking up the Dun these past few days either. Shadows in the forest that moved and watched their lands with sinister intents. Some said it was there men who died over the great waters returned to take vengeance. Others that it was the Sidhe or Fae folk looking for fair play. In her opinion it was just the deer or maybe a bear in search of food.

"See any more of your shadow-men today, Cormag?" The tease was tempered with a smile as she stepped up by the burly mans' side. He was taller than her by a head and a half, grizzled and as old as the stones Dun Faileas was built upon. His size was intimidating but he was the gentlest man she knew. When he was not watching the shadows he tended the Stables and sickly animals.

Cormag gave her a 'harumph' as he watched the forest's border. In the early cloudy light it was hard to see very far yet he still watched like a hawk watched a mouse. "Laugh all you want, lassie, you won't be laughing when they finally come."

"Oh aye, shadows in the forest," One of the other men quipped. "Next it'll be dragons!"

"And grumpy from a night drinking with his fair dragoness."

"Drinking? I'd be doing more than drinking with a woman!"

The elder man grunted, turning his blue eyes on the younger men that stood laughing and making noise down the wall's length. "Would you be speaking those words in front of your màthair, whelp?" There was sudden silence and the fidgeting of the men. "'S what I was thinking."

Elshana laughed and patted him on the arm. She moved down the narrow path, stopping to exchange words with every man on watch that morning. Her men may be young and full of the pride that came with such an age but everyone was loyal. Each of them had fought in defense of their Hold; driven back the bands of roaming men that took advantage of each Dun's missing men. Some of the men that now resided at Dun Faileas were from those groups.

Their Queen was a compassionate woman, her late husband even more so. The men that had been captured had been offered a place within the Holding and a place in her clan instead of finding their fates in the hangman's noose. Most took the offer, and as time passed, found their places. Cormag had been their leader and was now content to keep an eye out for any other roaming parties.

At the end of the barnekin she took her station. With bow in hand and friends by her side she felt steady and confident. All was well in her world: the Keep was safe, the pantries full for coming winter, and her mother was as she'd always been. Beyond the looming rain, nothing could dampen her spirits.

•••••••

In the dark of the forest something watched the wooden walls with interest. It was a primitive building, walls of wood instead of stone and its guards wore strange things over their leather and clothe. Disgust made it growl deep in its chest. So… weak. One of its people could destroy tens of theirs.

Peace had reigned far too long in its home and the blood call was strong. The will to fight was strong in its people, controlled by strict rules and honor. Here in this land there was no one but the General to answer to. With the Generals unorthodox ways maybe there would be a chance to stretch its claws and feel the roar of adrenaline again.

It watched until the mist receded, and then retreated from the watchful eyes of the biggest one up there. There was information to be reported.