Loreena Mckennit: classic celtic music
I wrote this while under hte influence of music, lol.
I dance upon the moors stained with a blood that grows the deepest blue flowers. I've lived here before, walked among the hills, among the people. Tuatha de danaan, child of Dana, the great earth mother. I've carried the staff that has long since passed beyond the mortal veil. I've walked the halls of Underhill, and I've danced with the strangest creatures. The sidhe are my brothers, my sisters, the creatures I walk side by side with in a land becoming swiftly more strange.
Father believes that the people will allow us to stay, but I fear it is not so. The people who come to our ancient lands, they have no respect for what we are, what we have created. They will only defile the great tombs of our people, only take our treasures from our broken bodies as we lay upon the earth in our final moments.
Father raised me to be a warrior, but I fear there is no winning of this war. We are so few, compared to these invaders. They don't revere the land...they don't accept Dana...they come to conquer and take from us what we love. There is no healing this wound.
Others have begun to whisper that perhaps we should go among the sidhe and hide...go among them and leave the surface world to those who have come. I do not desire this...I would pine for hte sun and the bright glow of the moon and the cool embrace of Dana's elements. I would die away from this land. So I am going to stand with father and all the others who have decided to make a last stand. I will stand with them, and if we fall...so be it. It is the will of the gods.Mother Dana bless us, the good gods keep us...this is the last stand of the People of Dana.
So comes another memory of myself as a Tuatha de danaan. Not that long ago, I held hope that I was as I had heard myself named, in the first memory I ever received, in which Dagda called me "Bridget" and I stood beside him holding my staff and going to war.
It is not THE Bridget that I was. It was another, another Tuathan, not of any godly birth at all. Dagda was simply...that way with all of the people. Close, fatherly, but not my father. I see that now.
The memory does come with some small cultural values and the like. Such as the knowledge that we came from another plane to this earth, we did not come from another world, just another plane, and we came because our world could no longer support us. I do not know if that means our world was destroyed, or if we were at war and we were teh losing faction, because I cannot remember. I know that there is a vague memory, possibly related, of I and my sisters dancing through a veil and losing the magick that we had possessed as triplets born.
That memory that i no longer fully recall, of dancing through the veil and losing my magick (and wings?) was the memory that made Anara originally believe that I was sidhe, because she believed I was possibly some sort of sister-being to her. I don't know/don't recall. It was some time ago.
I do not know if the tuatha de danaan that I was died in that war, or if she went underhill and eventually became a sidhe. From her loyalty to the land on which she was born, I believe that she chose death. I know that they did not win that war...