A/N: Here is the second chapter of Morning Star. This one also takes place in the past, just after
Connor is driven from his village. There will probably be more of these "flashback" chapters, but for
now the next few chapters will take place in the present. Special thanks to my friend Abe, for all his
support!
The River
Connor sat on the cold stone of the outcropping, his gaze traveling across the highlands.
He wasn't looking for anything in particular, for there was nothing to see; save for green fields
and hills. He had spent his entire life on the highlands, and still they held the power to enthrall
him. Even now, as his future seemed uncertain; and with no clan to turn to. He had no family
now, no home, no kinsman. They had driven him away, leaving him an outcast; destined to wander
these hills alone. In the distance, a howl rose from the twilight. It was a mournful sound, the
call of the wolf searching for his mate. Connor turned his gaze toward the sound, his breath
catching in his chest as the wolf appeared at the top of the ridge. It was a sight like he had
never before seen, a huge male wolf; as white as the driven snow. It looked toward him, sapphire
eyes glittering in the dwindling light. Raising its head towards the heavens, it again sang forth
its mournful song.
Connor closed his eyes, waiting for an answering howl from the wolf's mate. The minutes
ticked by in silence, and he finally opened his eyes once more. The wolf stood motionless, his
gaze trained on the young highlander. His hand reached instincively for his sword, fear creeping
in around him. As he watched the wolf, waiting for any sign of attack, he felt a tingle run up
his back. The air grew heavy, as if the world was holding its breath; waiting for some epic
event. As the last rays of the sun struck the ridge, the woman appeared. She bent beside the
wolf, her fingers moving languidly through snowy fur. She spoke to the beast, words that Connor
could not hear; and the wolf turned and disappeared over the hill.
Turning toward him, the woman started down the hill. He knew who she was, knew what she was.
Even had he been blind, he would have known her; recognized her presence. Her name was Amirilli,
the Morning Star. The holder of life, the bringer of death. That was what the legends told him,
the tales told around campfires and in darkened pubs. The guardian of the Clan Macleod, some called
her; a faery given the task of watching over them all. Others said that to see her was a bad sign,
an omen of impending death. She was a child of darkness walking in the light, a child of darkness
just like him. And Connor had seen her twice before, seen her walking across the highlands at
sunset. Once as a young boy, and again mere days before the battle that had claimed his life.
He briefly wondered what would come of this, for he had nothing left to loose.
Connor held his breath, waiting for her to reach him. He had never been so close to her
before, had never spoken to her. Part of him believed that she would simply pass him by, his
presence of no more concern to her than the rocks he sat upon. His eyes wandered over her,
marveling at the beauty she possessed. Her silvery hair sparkled in the dying light, dancing on
gentle breezes. And her eyes, a deep jewel green, glittered with secrets known only to her and
her kind. It was easy to see why many believed her to be fey, and Connor thought that perhaps
they were right. She had the pale ivory skin and etheral features of a creature not of his world,
and a grace that defied the human form.
"My, how the mighty have fallen.", she said as she reached him; snapping him out of his reverie.
"You speak as though you know me."
"Better than you might think Connor Macleod."
"If you know me so well, then tell me what I am; tell me why.", Connor pleaded.
"It is not my place to tell you these things, but you will know them soon enough."
"And who will tell me?"
"You will know him when you meet."
"Why must you speak in such riddles woman!? Why have you come, if you mean to tell me nothing."
"Do not speak so harshly to me highlander, for you do not have such a right. I did not say that
I would tell you nothing."
"But you did say that you would not tell me what it is I need to hear, you will not tell me
what it is I need to know. Look at me, look at what has become of me! Why has God forsaken me,
and left me all alone?", Connor cried.
The woman sat down beside him on the rocks, her eyes filled with sorrow and pain. Connor
looked deeply into her eyes for a long moment, searching for a glimmer of hope. Finally, he
slumped against her; his head coming to rest in her lap. Her fingers ran softly through his
matted hair, easing apart the knots and tangles. Connor's eyes closed, the languid carress of
her fingers putting him at ease; the soft scent of her filling his senses. She began to hum
softly, a gentle melody that sounded hauntingly familiar.
"What will become of me now?", Connor asked.
"You will live."
"But where will I go? How can I live among men now, they will be no different than my own
kinsmen."
"You will find your place Connor."
"And what kind of life will it be? All alone in the world, with no family and no home."
"You will find another."
"And how would you know all of that?", Connor asked; sitting up to look at her.
"Because that is my job highlander."
"If you know all these things, why do you not tell me?"
"Because no man may know his own destiny, because I cannot interfere."
"Then why did you come?"
"I wanted...I...I don't know.", she said; standing up and turning back toward the ridge.
"And you will leave me with nothing, just like the rest.", Connor growled.
She turned back to him, her eyes soft and glittering with barely contained tears. Connor
swallowed hard, waiting to see what she would do. The capricious moods of the fey were legendary,
and it was never wise to anger one. She moved to him, one hand reaching out to cup his cheek.
Her eyes locked with his, and for a moment he could see forever reflected there.
"Somewhere there is a valley and a river. A place where you can let your soul run free.
Someday I pray you will let me be that river, and let me bring you peace.", she whispered.
Connor stood in silence, his mind trying to wrap around the mystery of her words. She smiled sadly
at him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. With one last touch of her hand, she vanished
before him; leaving a shower of golden dust behind.
"I am with you always Connor. Do not be afraid.", her voice echoed across the hills.
As it faded away, it was replaced by the mournful howl of the wolf; once again searching for what
he had lost. Connor turned from the sound, ready to begin the long journey to find his destiny;
to find the place where he could be free.
~Fin
Connor is driven from his village. There will probably be more of these "flashback" chapters, but for
now the next few chapters will take place in the present. Special thanks to my friend Abe, for all his
support!
The River
Connor sat on the cold stone of the outcropping, his gaze traveling across the highlands.
He wasn't looking for anything in particular, for there was nothing to see; save for green fields
and hills. He had spent his entire life on the highlands, and still they held the power to enthrall
him. Even now, as his future seemed uncertain; and with no clan to turn to. He had no family
now, no home, no kinsman. They had driven him away, leaving him an outcast; destined to wander
these hills alone. In the distance, a howl rose from the twilight. It was a mournful sound, the
call of the wolf searching for his mate. Connor turned his gaze toward the sound, his breath
catching in his chest as the wolf appeared at the top of the ridge. It was a sight like he had
never before seen, a huge male wolf; as white as the driven snow. It looked toward him, sapphire
eyes glittering in the dwindling light. Raising its head towards the heavens, it again sang forth
its mournful song.
Connor closed his eyes, waiting for an answering howl from the wolf's mate. The minutes
ticked by in silence, and he finally opened his eyes once more. The wolf stood motionless, his
gaze trained on the young highlander. His hand reached instincively for his sword, fear creeping
in around him. As he watched the wolf, waiting for any sign of attack, he felt a tingle run up
his back. The air grew heavy, as if the world was holding its breath; waiting for some epic
event. As the last rays of the sun struck the ridge, the woman appeared. She bent beside the
wolf, her fingers moving languidly through snowy fur. She spoke to the beast, words that Connor
could not hear; and the wolf turned and disappeared over the hill.
Turning toward him, the woman started down the hill. He knew who she was, knew what she was.
Even had he been blind, he would have known her; recognized her presence. Her name was Amirilli,
the Morning Star. The holder of life, the bringer of death. That was what the legends told him,
the tales told around campfires and in darkened pubs. The guardian of the Clan Macleod, some called
her; a faery given the task of watching over them all. Others said that to see her was a bad sign,
an omen of impending death. She was a child of darkness walking in the light, a child of darkness
just like him. And Connor had seen her twice before, seen her walking across the highlands at
sunset. Once as a young boy, and again mere days before the battle that had claimed his life.
He briefly wondered what would come of this, for he had nothing left to loose.
Connor held his breath, waiting for her to reach him. He had never been so close to her
before, had never spoken to her. Part of him believed that she would simply pass him by, his
presence of no more concern to her than the rocks he sat upon. His eyes wandered over her,
marveling at the beauty she possessed. Her silvery hair sparkled in the dying light, dancing on
gentle breezes. And her eyes, a deep jewel green, glittered with secrets known only to her and
her kind. It was easy to see why many believed her to be fey, and Connor thought that perhaps
they were right. She had the pale ivory skin and etheral features of a creature not of his world,
and a grace that defied the human form.
"My, how the mighty have fallen.", she said as she reached him; snapping him out of his reverie.
"You speak as though you know me."
"Better than you might think Connor Macleod."
"If you know me so well, then tell me what I am; tell me why.", Connor pleaded.
"It is not my place to tell you these things, but you will know them soon enough."
"And who will tell me?"
"You will know him when you meet."
"Why must you speak in such riddles woman!? Why have you come, if you mean to tell me nothing."
"Do not speak so harshly to me highlander, for you do not have such a right. I did not say that
I would tell you nothing."
"But you did say that you would not tell me what it is I need to hear, you will not tell me
what it is I need to know. Look at me, look at what has become of me! Why has God forsaken me,
and left me all alone?", Connor cried.
The woman sat down beside him on the rocks, her eyes filled with sorrow and pain. Connor
looked deeply into her eyes for a long moment, searching for a glimmer of hope. Finally, he
slumped against her; his head coming to rest in her lap. Her fingers ran softly through his
matted hair, easing apart the knots and tangles. Connor's eyes closed, the languid carress of
her fingers putting him at ease; the soft scent of her filling his senses. She began to hum
softly, a gentle melody that sounded hauntingly familiar.
"What will become of me now?", Connor asked.
"You will live."
"But where will I go? How can I live among men now, they will be no different than my own
kinsmen."
"You will find your place Connor."
"And what kind of life will it be? All alone in the world, with no family and no home."
"You will find another."
"And how would you know all of that?", Connor asked; sitting up to look at her.
"Because that is my job highlander."
"If you know all these things, why do you not tell me?"
"Because no man may know his own destiny, because I cannot interfere."
"Then why did you come?"
"I wanted...I...I don't know.", she said; standing up and turning back toward the ridge.
"And you will leave me with nothing, just like the rest.", Connor growled.
She turned back to him, her eyes soft and glittering with barely contained tears. Connor
swallowed hard, waiting to see what she would do. The capricious moods of the fey were legendary,
and it was never wise to anger one. She moved to him, one hand reaching out to cup his cheek.
Her eyes locked with his, and for a moment he could see forever reflected there.
"Somewhere there is a valley and a river. A place where you can let your soul run free.
Someday I pray you will let me be that river, and let me bring you peace.", she whispered.
Connor stood in silence, his mind trying to wrap around the mystery of her words. She smiled sadly
at him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. With one last touch of her hand, she vanished
before him; leaving a shower of golden dust behind.
"I am with you always Connor. Do not be afraid.", her voice echoed across the hills.
As it faded away, it was replaced by the mournful howl of the wolf; once again searching for what
he had lost. Connor turned from the sound, ready to begin the long journey to find his destiny;
to find the place where he could be free.
~Fin
