The Blessed Damned
Chapter I
A Humble Beginning
Sorcha (Sur a ka) was born one cold winter’s night not far from the coast of Wexford. Her mother Treasa (Tra sa) was young, and the bastard daughter of a Viking. Her father Ríoghán (Ree awn), who was in his late twenties at the time of her birth, was a pure blooded Celt and somewhat of a sorcerer. He understood the spirits and honored many gods. He taught Sorcha all that he could about the mystical world.
Treasa had entered her adolescence only two winters before giving birth to Sorcha, and was still very young. As Sorcha grew so did Treasa’s harbored jealousy towards her.
The first few years of Sorcha’s life were her sweetest and most cherished memories. She can always find comfort when she thinks of her father and the days they spent studying by the sea.
One fall day Sorcha and her father decided to pick apples for the autumn harvest. When they arrived home from the orchards, they were suddenly overwhelmed by the sweet smell of warm bread erupting from the chimneystack of their house. They wondered what special occasion had prompted Treasa to bake such a delight.
When they walked through the door they saw a small feast awaiting them at the table. There was a pot of potato leek soup, three small loafs of sweet bread, a plate of sugary fruits, and a stein of fresh milk and two steins of dark wine.
When Ríoghán asked Treasa the reason for preparing such a fantastic spread she merely smiled and said “well I get so lonely here at the house all day while the two of you wonder the forest and frolic down at the sands, what else am I to do with my time?”
Ríoghán then understood that his lessons with Sorcha were taking their toll on Treasa, and he promised that he would make it up to her. He asked her what he could do to make her happy again.
Treasa responded in an almost rehearsed manor, saying that she was at her happiest when in the presence of her family. Ríoghán and Sorcha both looked up at her and smiled with blushing grins of sincerity. When Sorcha lowered her head to continue her meal, Treasa’s insincere smile turned to an envious scow as she watched Sorcha finish her supper.
After dinner Treasa suggested that the three of them go for an evening walk. Ríoghán told her that they had been working and studying all the day and that the two of them were ready to rest. This wasn’t what Treasa wanted to hear, and she coyly reminded him of his promise to make her happy. She told him that it was something she had been looking forward to all the day.
Sorcha, who loved adventures, excitingly agreed. She jumped down from her seat at the table and with out giving her father a second chance to refuse, slipped on her shoes and tied her cloak over her shoulders.
The sky was still blue when they left the house. Ríoghán packed candles into a small leather pouch and tied the satchel to his belt. He knew that night would be on them soon.
Sorcha ran ahead of her parents, she loved to feel the wind in her hair. She stuck her arms out parallel to her shoulders and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, dodging tree branches and leaping small creeks as she went. She ran effortlessly through to the other end of the forest. She slowed her pace as she emerged from the wood and peered down at the sea below. The sky was now a colorful masterpiece of orange and red. She sat on a bolder and closed her eyes as she listened to the waves crashing on the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.
Soon her parents made their ways towards her. They all sat together and watched the sky as the colorful evening turned to a moonlit night. This is one of her fondest memories.
On the way home her mother pulled Sorcha aside. “You know, when I was a youngster I spent many hours in these woods” she told her, “hmmm, I wonder if you’re curious enough” Treasa raised her eyebrow as though she had some wonderful secret to share. “Never mind you’re too young.” She said with an almost taunting attitude as she left her side and walked ahead.
Sorcha’s curiosity was now bubbling, she spaced out for a moment wondering what fantastic story her mother had to tell her. While in her trance she failed to notice the hot wax bleeding from the lit taper she held in her small fist. Suddenly she felt a hot drop of wax on her knuckles. “Ouch!” she said in whisper as she switched the candle to the other hand to nurse her wax-covered fingers. She looked up.
“Wait!” she said as she rushed to catch up to her parents.
Sorcha looked up at Treasa, “I’m not too young” she said, “I am 7 years old you know”. Treasa smiled a maleficent grin and told her of a small cave that lay no more than a mile from their home. “It’s best to go at night,” she told her “that way no one can follow you. You’ll be the only one to know it’s there.” Treasa pointed the way at passing and told her the “best route” then made Sorcha repeat it back to her.
Now Treasa was telling the truth about the woods being her old stomping ground, and the cave really did exist. But what she failed to mention to Sorcha were the numerous patches of quick sand along the route to the cave.
Sorcha waited for her parents to fall asleep, she then crept down the stairs to the kitchen and grabbed a few candles and a loaf of bread left over from their glorious supper and tucked them into a sack. She then tied her cloak once more around her, this time lifting its velvet purple cape over her head. She lit one candle and tied the sack around her waist and snuck out.
She ventured for nearly an hour, the woods didn’t look the same in the dark. Realizing just how alone she was, she briefly became overcome with fear and thought of turning around to go home, but her more adventurous side wouldn’t have that, so she continued on. Just as she was feeling courageous again she felt the world disappear from beneath her feet, and she fell into a gritty pit of sand and mud. The candle fell with her into the pit, and the moving sands quickly snuffed the flame. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t see, for the trees above her hid her from the moon and its helpful glow.
She remembered hearing that it is best not to struggle when stuck in quick sand. She then thought, “if I struggle it will make me sink quicker, but if I put up no fight at all, surely I am as good as dead.” She tried to kick her feet to stay afloat, her limbs could barely move. She thought that the keepers of time were taunting her by hastening the moving sands and slowing down her bones. She closed her eyes, hoping that it was all a dream, hoping that when she opened her eyes she would find herself at home in her bed, warm beneath the covers. Unfortunately her situation was very real.
When she reopened her eyes the night didn’t seem as dark, she was able to see the forest that surrounded her. Standing in front of her by a hollowed old tree was a white wolf. “Oh how I wish I could be standing there beside you,” she thought. Suddenly she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to find a thin tree branch dancing above her right side. “That’s funny,” she said, “I could swear…” She decided it wasn’t the time to question her self and she reached up to grab the tree branch. It took her some time, but she managed to pull her self out of the pit. “My shoes!” she looked down at her naked feet and then back at the pit to watch her boots be swallowed up by the hungry sands.
She then remembered the magnificent white wolf that stood at the bay of the pit. She looked around her, but he was nowhere in sight.
She made her way into an opened field to get a grasp on the surrounding area. She was glad to be under the light of the moon again. Suddenly the winds picked up around her, her clothes were still wet and heavy with sand, and she shivered as the cool autumn air kissed her skin. She wished she could find the cave that her mother had told her about, at least then she would have a warm place to sleep. She looked up at the stars. Her father told her that they could help her to find her way home. He was going to teach her how to read the stars in the weeks to come, if only he had shown her sooner. She swore in that moment that she would someday map every star in the sky.
Chapter II
The Man In The Wood
As she lowered her head she saw the silhouette of a man from the corner of her eye. She turned to look at him. He was very tall with long white hair that glittered like silver under the starlight. His complexion was pale and ghostly, and he wore a grey linen tunic over black leggings and a leather belt around his waste with a golden buckle; on it a single gleaming ruby, and over his shoulders lay tied a black velvet cape. His leather shoes looked costly but noticeably worn, possibly from years of travel.
He stared at her for a moment; she gazed at him as well. Neither of them said a word. Sorcha couldn’t bear the quiet. She took a step towards him and asked him his name. He smiled and told her he was glad to see that she was all right, then turned and walked away. Sorcha ran after him, “Wait! Are you just going to leave me here?” She entered the wood, following in his footsteps but as she traveled deeper into the forest his footprints became harder to find. “I can only imagine what hour it is”, she said to herself as she folded her arms in front of her chest. She shivered. “And it’s gotten blistery cold. Where did that man go?”
She walked the forest in search of him, and in search of any familiar trail that might lead her home. After perhaps an hours worth of walking she fell to her knees and started to cry. “Why did I have to come out here this night? Why couldn’t I have stayed asleep in my bed? Why do my shoes have to be sitting at the bottom of a sand pit? Why does it have to be so cold? Why did he have to leave me?” her eyes watered and her bones quaked as she became more and more distraught.
It seemed as though her crying would never end. “I could fill a lake with these tears”, she thought to herself as she caught her breath. She stood up and wiped her sorrows from her face, “there’s obviously no one here to cry to”, she said as she brushed the dirt from her knees. “If I can’t make it home I should at least find my way to the cave, I’m wet and it’s getting so cold, I just know I’ll be ill tomorrow if I stay in these woods a moment longer.”
She began walking. This time she stepped more cautious than ever, she didn’t want to fall into another one of those pits. She smiled for a moment remembering how happy she was earlier that night as she ran, arms spread wide, through the forest. Then she felt a warm tear start in her eye as she thought to her self, “I had better not do that anymore”.
Suddenly there was a loud snap. She froze in place, eyes wide. She looked down at her feet. She picked up her right foot, and then her left. She hadn’t stepped on any sticks, so the sound wasn’t from her. She turned slowly.
Less than a yard behind her followed a white wolf. “Are you who I think you are?” she asked. She laughed at herself, “Because you’re going answer me right?” She smiled and shook her head as she turned to continue on her way. He followed close behind her.
Now any other child would have grown nervous and ran. But Sorcha wasn’t like any other child. Her curiosity and sense of adventure have always been her guide.
She stopped and thought for a moment, “I must be crazy. But would you be able to lead me to a cave near by?” she turned once more to look at him, she was shocked to find that, standing in his place was a man. The same man who greeted her in the clearing, the same man who had not yet told her his name.
She stood there, still in shock. “You’re a man, but just a moment ago…” she looked at him with curious if not slightly confused eyes expecting him to confirm what she thought could only be her imagination.
“A moment ago, I was not”, he confirmed.
