Holiday Chroniclesby DVBChaptersPrologue: She Who Keeps TimeChapter I: The Gift-GiverChapter II: The LiberatorPrologue: She Who Keeps TimeHolidays. A day, a week, or even longer… a time of year where one breaks the routine of daily life and follow a special tradition. From holidays celebrating workers, parents and trees, to the marking of victories, tragedies, beginnings and endings, holidays are a vital part of the culture of whatever society. Despite the many different cultures, there are often trends that follow each culture. Holidays of harvest for example. Because of this, some holidays converge all together that a powerful spirit is born. This spirit represents the essence of the holiday. Sometimes they change shape, form or name depending on the culture or even take on allies or assistants if the workload becomes too much, but they take their job to ensure the holiday continues to the best of their ability. The origin of a spirit usually comes from someone who embodied the meaning of the holiday they will come to represent or even found it in the first place. All spirits were at one point mortal. Much like how the Alicorn Sisters of Equestria are heralds of the sun and moon, they are not the only powerful beings in this world. In the same way, these spirits came from all walks of life. In our story, we will tell the story of four different spirits. Each of them represent a vital holiday and furthermore, have taken themselves to represent a season. They are: Saint Hooves the Reindeer, Dagran the Ram, Athena the Serpent and Mortis the Headless Horse. Saint Hooves is the guardian of Winter. He is the spirit of Christmas and the other winter holidays. Dagran the Ram is the guardian of Spring. He is the spirit of St Patrick’s Day and other spring holidays. Athena the Serpent is the guardian of Summer. She is the spirit of Valentine’s Day and other summer holidays. Mortis the Headless Horse is the guardian of Fall. He is the spirit of Halloween and other autumn holidays. When the pre-spirit mortals usually start approaching their ascension when strange and sometimes dire situations are occurring. During these situations, they show their true colors and their merit as being worthy. They are then approached by the one who oversees the birth of the holiday spirits, Aion, Keeper of Time. Before we tell the stories of the four spirits, we must first talk of the one who creates and guides them, Aion, the Keeper of Time. Aion was said to be the mother of all phoenixes, born among the stardust and cosmic flames of the first stars being brought to life. She is the keeper of birth, death and rebirth and is such viewed as an almighty herald of Time itself. Beyond her mastery over time, she could manipulate her size and shape in order to interact with mortals, which is how she mothered the race of phoenixes. Here is an excerpt about him from a creation myth from the forerunners: “And as the first stars were born from the embers of the furnace of creation, the first moment of passing occurred. From the merging of star dust from all the first-born stars was the one who defined the creation of firstness… A cosmic egg from which came the divine siblings, Aion, Astraeus, Protogonos, Ananke, Demiourgos, Physis, and Xenoangelos With the birth of Aion came the birth of time. With the birth of Astraeus came the birth of space. Aion was a winged marvel and at her first sound was the signal of the beginning of time. Aion spread her wings and captured the pure embers from the furnace of creation and began to fly throughout across her twin brother, Astraeus. A powerful halo, one that the stars themselves wore, lighted up behind her like a crown. Seven rays of light showered from it; with these guiding lights, beings became aware of time. From the long crest of feathers on her head, representing the rivers of time, to her almighty wings, her visage was a beautiful color of violets and purples. A First Daughter of Creation. The Mistress of Time. The Herald of Eternity. As she flew, golden grains would float from down her ever-expanding wings. To many a mortal, it was to be known as the Sands of Time. From the small seeds growing into a mighty tree, she was there. From the first cries of an infant to their final words, she was there. Her wings encompasses all that was, all that is and all that will be.” Aion’s association with the holidays was not understood well with ancient times; it was believed when calendar systems were created and protoholidays were celebrated was when he began to appear more often in legends beyond that of creation. Aion is mostly considered myth now, only known to the blessed folk and other powerful mortals or demi-deities that have responsibilities over their subjects. However, to these four special beings, Aion is their overseer. To ensure that the special times would never be forgot. Despite being a goddess of a time even before the First Age, her influence was still seen subtly, through cucco clocks with birds to the legend of clock making inspired by a circling bird around dawn and dusk. Even though she had many champions come and go, they are still honored in her memory and in myth of the world. These are the stories of these champions. Author's Note I thought this was an interesting way to begin... I am not sure if I can get every one of the stories up by the end of the contest, but I will try. Chapter I: The Gift-GiverSt. Hooves the Reindeer is arguably the most famous among the spirits. He was born on the eastern half of the world, in the massive tundra of the region sometimes called Sideeria. However, this is the story of when he was mortal… The story of Rudolphus… Rudolphus Nikolaos was born near the end of December, the youngest of out of all of his family. However, during this time, a lunar eclipse occurred in the sky. His brother believed that this led to his strange birthmark, a strange red nose that could light up the same way a unicorn’s horn could. His parents on the other hand, believed it was from some unicorn heritage that both parents had and Rudolphus was decided that he would have this unusual thing. As a child, Rudolphus was always curious and his large eyes were filled with wonder, fascinated with everything that worked in the small village they grew up in. This sometimes made it difficult for his family to keep up with him as he would try and help out in any way he could to learn. Outside of his mother and father, the family had a paternal grandmother and then there was Rudolphus’ older brother. His name was Klaubaufus. He was a hefty and very large reindeer, to where he was sometimes called ‘Klaubaufus the Giant.’ He was born when the couple was young and so Klaubaufus is much older than Rudolphus. The first real sign of Rudolphus’ special fate was seen when he was still a young fawn… “But why can’t you take to town, babushka?” little Rudolphus asked his beloved grandmamma. “Klaubaufus is in the woods cutting lumber with Father while Mother is away visiting her friends,” he pointed out. Because of his unusual nose, he didn’t have any friends. His parents knew, but they didn’t know what to do. Fortunately, Grandmother Nikolaos seem to have an idea. “All right, my little one,” Grandmother Nikolaos said. “I think I know what you need to cheer you up,” she said with a kindly smile. She had dressed them up in their scarves to keep them warm and their hats. Rudolphus’ was red, his favorite color. The pair exited their house and followed the path into town. The paths were lit with their wicker street lights and there were a few other deer around. The snow was falling gently and Rudolphus smiled as he caught a dainty little snowflake on his nose. His grandmother couldn’t help but giggle. She loved how her little grandson could see the beauty in everything and how his optimism was infectious to everydeer. He reminded her of her late husband. Maybe… just maybe… “How about we get you something new?” she suggested to Rudolphus as they went to a smaller part of town. It was an open field where travelers could set up temporary shops. The old doe smiled as she saw a familiar site. This was certainly a surprise. “Great-Uncle Sinterklaas! I didn’t know you were in town!” Rudolphus shouted with mirth as he saw the elderly reindeer step out with a smile. “It was a surprise visit actually. I didn’t plan on running out of lumber so soon, but business has been so well, I need to restock before I move back for the season,” Sinterklass explained to him. “What do you mean, great-uncle?” Rudolphus explained. “You see Rudolphus, in a few weeks, blizzard season starts up near the mountains. We don’t have to worry about that. For them however, mostly everydeer but the strongest and furriest stay indoors. Little work can be done. Because of that, many deer purchase a variety of things to help keep them content indoors during the blizzard,” Sinterklaas explained. Rudolphus began thinking. “What kind of things do you make, Great Uncle?” he asks. “Not much really. I just tend to make some furniture that the adults can use for guests and such,” he says. Rudolphus continued to think. He looked at what Sinterklaas had. There were all sorts of stools, chairs and so on. It was rather simple and basic. Rudolphus realized something. There was nothing for kids. That wasn’t right. Kids needed something to do while it was it was dangerous to go outside. “Great-uncle, may I help?” Rudolphus asked after a moment of inspiration. “I’m not sure, my boy... why would you want to make furniture?” his great-uncle asked him. “I don’t wanna make furniture. I wanna make toys. For the kids who don’t have em,” Rudolphus said with a smile. A smile that found its way onto the elderly brother and sister. And so little Rudolphus learned the basics of wood-working from his great-uncle. Rudolphus was a natural at it. His imagination allowed him to come up with new ideas and ended up creating all sorts of toys. From simple, movable figurines of different animals to blocks with animals and letters on them to even simple little carts with wheels and so on. However, for the creative lad, it wasn’t enough. After his great-uncle left, he talked to tailors and learned how to make dolls. He talked to a blacksmith and learned metal working. He talked to artists and learned how to make books. He learned and made toys and gifts of all shapes and sizes. As he passed them around to the kids, all for free and no charge, they all looked at him with respect and wonder. Rudolphus became well known around the mountains among children. Not only were they thankful for all of his hard work and passion, but inspired to work hard in their own lives. Over time, Rudolphus began growing into a handsome young buck. Not only that, but the town grew with him. Rudolphus volunteered to be part of the team that will visit the mountain towns to deliver supplies to the less fortunate. Among the various stored foods, blankets and medicine were also the toys and gifts he had made. There were three sleds and there were nine reindeer in total, three deer per sleigh. Rudolphus, now just called Rudolph looked at his peers. The first sleigh was being pulled by Donner, the eldest, and Dasher and Dancer, a romantic duo who were athletic, but also a bit full of themselves. Donner was a serious pony, reminding Rudolph of his older brother. The second sleigh was being pulled by Prancer, Vixen and Cupid. Prancer was Dancer’s brother and he always loved to skate. Vixen was an attractive doe, about Rudolph’s age, but she had a quirk of being attracted to younger bucks. This led her to be with Cupid, the youngest one there. Cupid was mutually lovey-dovey with Vixen and was able to point to deer who would make a good, strong and steady couple. This left Rudolph with his two companions, Comet and Blitzen. Blitzen was a headstrong athletic sort and was a roughneck rival to Dasher while Comet was his younger brother, who was quite good at jumping. They all had various opinions on the toymaking reindeer with his bright red reindeer, ranging from the good to the bad. However, most of them kept their opinion to themselves. Mainly because of Klaubaufus. An elderly reindeer stepped forward, in charge of overseeing them. He had a scar on his eye. From what Rudolph heard, the old buck was called to stop a riot in a town of different races. “Attention!” All nine reindeer stopped their conversations and faced directly at the old deer. “You will take one of the three designated trails along the path and you will be visiting twelve towns. The journey should last no more than twelve days. This is for safety reasons. All right everydeer. Best of luck and return safely,” he said to them. The three teams were saying their goodbyes to their families before Rudolph’s parents approached him with a gift. It was a collar and saddle with jingle bells. It was a brilliant red and the collar resembled a holiday wreath. “We made this for you, son. We know it will keep you warm and the jingle bells will help others know you are close by,” Mr. Nikolaos told his son. His wife smiled and gave her youngest child a hug. A few of the other reindeer rolled their eyes or snickered. Rudolph simply smiled and accepted the gift with pride. And so the three sleds went off, unknown that something or someone was watching them from the shadows… Hours had past and the trail remained mostly quiet. However, Comet, who’s grandparents were once shamans who specialized in division of the weather, felt something was off in the air. “We need to speed this up. We need to reach the town so we can take a rest,” Comet told them. Rudolph and Blitzen faced him. “I agree we have to speed up, but we can keep this up for days,” Blitzen said with bold confidence. “What’s the matter, Comet?” Rudolph asked him. “It’s just that… its gotten colder… and its starting to snow now,” Comet pointed out. Rudolph and Blitzen looked up to see that it was indeed snowing. “I thought the weather was supposed to be fine throughout the trip,” Rudolph questioned. “Doesn’t matter. It’s probably just a few snowflakes,” Blitzen said. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. The snow flurries turned into a blizzard and the reindeer were struggling to move. “Things can’t get any worse,” Comet said, tempting the fates. A massive gust suddenly caused them to slip and tumble, resulting in sliding down the hill and hitting some trees. It was white and gray all around, with no clear landmark in site. “What are we gonna do?” Blitzen said, unusually afraid. He winced as he realized one of his hooves was injured. “We move forward.” Blitzen and Comet faced the young toymaker. They saw the fire in his eyes. “All these kids and grownups are counting on us to bring us this. We cannot give up. We will not give up!” Rudolph said as his nose glowed bright. It glowed brighter than ever before. A red light shined through the blizzard. “Hey, the light’s cutting through all this. I can see the trail,” Comet pointed out. “Let’s move out, guys!” Rudolph said. “Blitzen, you rest on the sleigh. Comet and I will go forward,” he told the two. Surprised by his sudden assertation of leader, the two nodded. Through the use of Rudolph’s nose, he led them back on the path and onto the town. The reindeer stationed cheered and thanked them. “Thank goodness you have arrived, young ones. We were worried none of the others would make it,” one of the guards said. “Wait a minute. Are you saying the other two didn’t make it?” Blitzen asked. “No. You are the first to arrive,” the other said. “That shouldn’t be. Donner’s the most experienced and Dasher and Dancer are some of the strongest reindeer here. The other team had Prancer, who was the best navigator through the ice,” Comet reasoned. “…I’m going to find them.” The two faced Rudolph. “Rudolph, you can’t be serious,” Comet questioned. The red-nosed reindeer was surprising them more and more. “I have too. Comet, take Blitzen to the doctor and have his hoof looked that. Then start giving away the things. I’ll be back before you know it,” Rudolph said with a smile. He then went off. “Come on! We have to hurry!” Prancer shouted. “Hang on! That fall we took hurt Cupid really bad,” Vixen shouted back as they struggled to move through the blizzard. They were scared and starting to lose their temper. The wind howled further to echo the atmosphere. Then, through the screeching of the wind, the sound of jingle bells were heard. Through the gray storm, a red light of hope pierced through. “G-guys. It’s Rudolph! He came to save us!” Cupid pointed out. The trio stood in silence as the storm seem to calm briefly with the smiling buck looking at them. “You guys are okay! Come on! I’ll lead you to town!” He told them. As he led through with his bright red nose, the group saw that the quirky toymaker has become their hero throughout this mess. Once they were in town, Cupid was taken to the doctor’s before Rudolph went to look for the last sleigh. It didn’t take long to see they have suffered through the worst. Dasher and Dancer often argued and tended to rebel against authority, even if it was someone as steady as Donner. The former two were unconscious and frost was settling on them. Donner was laying on the side. He had a pretty big wound from an icicle. “Donner, Donner! Stay with me!” Rudolph said as he loaded the other two on the sleigh. Donner grunted, before he saw the light and heard the jingle bells. As Rudolph pulled the sleigh single-hoofedly through the blizzard, he focused on them. It was comforting, to see the light and bells. Everything was going to be okay. Dasher and Dancer woke up in the Doctor’s. The eight reindeer embraced one another that they were all okay. “Where’s Rudolph? Cupid asked. “He’s apparently fixing the sleights and trying to make them into one. He said we’re all going to stick together so none of us get hurt again,” Blitzen explained. “He saved us. While we were all competing, he went and saved us,” Prancer said as he stared out the window and saw Rudolph finish fixing the sleighs. “The toymaker saved us…? I can’t believe it,” Dasher said as he looked stunned at the revelation. All of them had teased Rudolph once or twice, with Dasher and Dancer being the most open. But they all looked at respect at how he really was. They saw him for how he really was. One by one, they all came out and faced him. “Rudolph. As of this moment, you’re in charge,” Donner said. Rudolph looked surprised to say the least. “You’re the only one who can do this. When all of us began fretting, you came to save us,” Blitzen continued. Rudolph looked at the others, who looked at him with agreement. Even Dasher and Dancer. “Listen up everydeer!” “We aren’t doing this for us! We’re doing this for all the does and bucks who don’t have food for the storm. We’re doing this for the kids who aren’t as fortunate as we are to have nice toys. We’re gonna bring them joy and wonder and show them not to give up! “We do this, together!” Rudolph said, his voice cutting through the wind. The other reindeer raised their hooves in support as they all went through the trails. Despite the storm, the light allowed them to find the way. When they felt overwhelmed by the wind, they focused on the comforting sound of Rudolph’s jingle bells. As they finally arrived at the last town, the council of elders welcomed them. “Your journey has inspired everydeer! Despite this sudden blizzard, you all pulled through excellently. Our gratitude is extended to you all,” the head elder told them. “Sir. We thank you for this. But it was all because of Rudolph. When we faltered, when we fought, when we were in peril, he was there to pull us through,” Donner announced. The other deer nodded. The elders muttered as they saw Rudolph, now looking mildly shy and modest at all the praise he was receiving. “Rudolphus Nikolaos, step forward.” He stepped to the front of the elders. “For your courage, for your compassion, for your dedication to children everywhere, you are granted the title of Saint. By the power invested in me by the holy order of the land, you are now and forever, Saint Hooves the Reindeer.” Rudolph, now Saint Hooves, looked awestruck before he accepted the honor. And so began a strong friendship between the nine. For the next several years, they delivered gifts to the good little fawns around. Finally, Saint Hooves’ greatest challenge appeared. The moment he would become a Spirit. “Saint Hooves!” Dasher ran into the workshop. Saint Hooves was working hard on the brand-new toys and showing his apprentices what to do. “What is it, Dasher?” he asked. “It’s a message from the elders. They say its urgent,” Dasher said as he presented the letter. Saint Hooves read it. Apparently, they found out that a local town has been neglected because it was cut off by a seemingly-perpetuating blizzard. Saint Hooves got dressed and a bag of toys in case and he looked out. He squinted his eyes. He made out a large isolated plot of clouds were twisting. “Everydeer…” Saint Hooves said. He was now a strong buck in the prime of his life. However, he grew a patch of white around his chest, making it seem like he has a large beard. He looked to his friends and apprentices. “I may not come back from this. If I don’t, I want you keep doing this. I may be gone physically, but I will live on in all of you. That is my dream. To always put smiles on all the good little children of the world. To ensure that people have their faith and hard work rewarded. If something happens to me, keep my dream alive,” he told them. They all cheered as he went off. He saw the decorations. Ever since his sainthood, there were now weird tributes to him. They would decorate the local evergreens with lights to serve as a reminder of his light and to tell travelers they will take them in, to serve as his compassion. There was even a few with the hook-shaped treats he made, in case they were hungry. Saint Hooves headed to the strange town. And to his destiny. Step by step, hoof by hoof, Saint Hooves kept trotting through the snow, his light shining through. He wondered what was going on. However, he also felt he was being followed. As he ran through the white faster and faster, a blur came and smacked him. The Saint lost his balance and ended up crashing into a freezing pond. He shivered as he shined his light. He looked around and saw something frozen. No, someone. It was a white snow monkey. The ones fabled to live in the mountains of the Far East. They survive the cold in ponds of hot water and said they could travel the world by burrowing. He didn’t know why one was sitting frozen. But he knew he had to help. He swam as best as he could and picked up the frozen monkey with his antlers before he got out and continued. However, the icy plunge took his toll and he collapsed, his light thawing out the monkey. The next thing Saint Hooves felt was hot water. He woke up with a yelp as he looked around. There were hot spring monkeys everywhere. They were looking rather sad. He cleared his throat and faced one that looked like the leader. He was a bit larger than the others and held a stick in his hand. “Thank you for saving me. I don’t have much, but I have some toys…” he said as he presented the bag. The monkeys looked at the toys with fascination and wonder. Saint Hooves then remembered what he had to do. “Listen, do you know how to get to there?” he asked, signaling the storm. The monkeys hid and shuddered at the name. The old monkey banged the stick once as he looked at the Saint in the eye, before bowing his head, thanking him for saving the lost child. He nodded before he chattered to the monkeys before facing the Saint with a questioning look. “There are ponies and deer and other species there that need help. And I am going to give it to them no matter what. I will break through this storm and help them gain the courage to smile again,” he said with determination The old monkey gazed before he smiled and chattered some more. The monkeys all formed behind the Saint. This reindeer was special, they sensed it. He saved one of their own and gave them something that brought joy to them. It was a wondrous thing. “You’re all going to follow me?” he asked them. They all nodded. Saint Hooves smiled at them. “Let us go then,” he said as they continued the long trek. “Frozen, they’re all frozen!” Saint Hooves said in shock. Ponies, reindeers, moose, all were frozen. They were all frozen in expressions of anger and misery. “Everyde-… hrm, everyone! I want you to go and try and thaw them out,” Saint Hooves said before he saw something on the outskirts of the town. It was a spire of ice. He felt that was where the answers lied. The monkeys then chattered in anger and confusion as they saw something try and attack them. Saint Hooves’ eye widened. It was a wendigo. Of course… This was the border town! The one said to be near the top of the world. This was why all the blizzards were happening! “Stay away!” Saint Hooves said as his nsoe glowed. The monkeys looked in awe as the wendigos hissed and fled away. The light was bright that a local frozen fawn was thawed. He was confused before he heard them. The jingle bells. “Its you… It’s Saint Hooves!” he said with excitement. He smiled for the first time in a long time. As more wendigos came out to try and attack, Saint Hooves banished them with light and with the sounds, hope spread. “Get everyone out now,” he told the monkeys. They nodded as they had everyone gather their possessions to flee the area. Meanwhile, Saint Hooves went up the spire of ice to confront whoever was in charge. In a large hall, he saw it. It was unlike any of the wendigos he saw. It was a giant moose with antlers of icicles. It was ghost-white with red eyes. It roared with the howl of the cruelty of cold. It was the Winter Elder… or at least it took it shape. The spirit of the cold. The dark side of it. Saint Hooves shined his light and the creature howled as it got on its hind legs and charged at Saint Hooves. Saint Hooves moved, his bells jingling, signaling his presence. The presence of wonder. It did not make sense to the Winter Elder. It roared as it went and slammed into Saint Hooves. The Saint fell, but managed to get up. Wounded and tired, but unyielding. Everyone was depending on him. He will not give up. He focused everything into his nose as it glowed brighter and brighter. The lights filled the air and pierced the storm. He was sweating as he focused more and more and released a brilliant shine. The beast banished in a flame of red. The Saint collapsed. He was happy. He manage to bring joy to everyone. He just wished it didn’t have to end so soon. He saw the monkeys go and surround him. All of them were there. Everyone was safe. Suddenly, a miracle occurred. In the eyes of Saint Hooves, he looked up to the night sky and saw the night in purple. For a moment, he though he saw a bird. Rudolphus Nikolaos… Saint Hooves… You have proven yourself… We still need you… The world still needs you… For as winter approaches and the cold pushes people apart, you need to help them push back together… Do you accept this… Do you wish to continue your dream? “…Yes” Saint Hooves said with a smile. The monkeys smiled and chattered, symbolizing their loyalty to the one who taught them joy. Saint Hooves felt himself growing light as he floated in the air. A red light showered the whole area and it vanished into the night…. News spread of how he defeated the stormbringer. There was joy and yet there was tragedy. Donner and the others were confused. What were they going to do without Rudolph? They then remembered his words. It gave them comfort. Then, a miracle occurred. They saw him. For a moment they saw him, everyone did. Stories of him appearing across, bring his sleigh around the land and around the world to bring toys to good children. They say they even saw white monkeys help deliver the toys on the sleigh. They knew it was him. With his red light and his jingle bells. The story became legend. The legend of St. Hooves the Reindeer… Author's Note And we have the first one down. I am hoping to get the others up soon. I am not sure I can, but I have to try. I hope you guys like it. I may add a bonus chapter about Klaubaufus later. Stay tuned and happy holidays! Chapter II: The LiberatorDagran the Ram is a national hero in the Emerald Isles. Despite this, he was not born in the Isles, but in the Kingdom across, as a young Dagran Pádraig. Dagran Pádraig was born as the son of a deacon over in the region of Canis Griffinania. His grandfather was also a priest. Despite his background, Dagran wasn’t an active believer or practioner of magic. However, all of that changed one day. When he was a young teenaged ram, he was kidnapped by sheep pirates of the Emerald Isle. He was taken hostage and was brought over to the Emerald Isle. Forced into slavery, he ended up becoming a shepherd, a watcher of the wayward sheep folk. Dagran was scared. He was in a foreign land with no way out. Furthermore, he heard whispers. Rumors. Of horrible monsters that roamed the land and watched over the flocks as they minded their business, waiting to strike. In his first year, he was approaching a state of hopelessness. In that, is where the first step toward his destiny began. Dagran awoke from his nightmare. He looked around wildly before he sighed and shuddered. He held onto the only possession he had in this foreign land, a walking stick made of ash wood. Most of the sheep folk were simply minding their own business, usually farming. There was little to do around mostly. Dagran remembered when he would be bored. Now, he was just in a state of constant mild suspense. It was because of lurked across in the woods of the lands. There were all sorts of strange beings that supposedly lurked. There was the banshee. A creepy-looking caprid who’s wails was said to foretold the death of someone. It would sometimes echo around. Because of what else roamed the land, Dagran often heard this wail. The other caprids seem to have become used to it though. There was also the headless caprid, known as the Dullahan. It carried its own head on a stick attacked to it. Its head was made out of what looked like moldy cheese with constant darting eyes and a creepy grin. Its wagon was decorated with bones and seemed ready for a funeral, stopping by someone will die. There was the cat sidhe, a strange black cat that walked on its hindlegs and believed to possess powerful magic. According to ancient legends, a brown one existed that increased her powers to frightening levels with witchweed potion. All of these strange beings lurked the land, but noneso was more feared than the massive serpent-like beings that lurked around. They reminded Dagran of dragons, but they were wyrms; large dragon-like serpents. They were what terrified him the most. Dagran took another breath. This was too much. He didn’t know what to do. “Someone… please… I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. Suddenly, a calming breeze went through the air and there was a comfortable silence for a moment. “Stay strong…” “Who’s that?” Dagran said as he looked around. “The plant below…” the mysterious voice told him. He looked and saw a three-leaf clover. It was three leaves, but one plant. Dagran didn’t understand it, but it reminded him of the ponies. Three races, but one species. It didn’t matter where they came from, they were all caprids. Dagran gained the courage to smile as he placed the three-leaf clover on his staff. Everything would be okay… Six years had passed and Dagran had grown strong. He would fight the wild beasts that threatened the flocks nearby. Despite this, he still retained his desire to go home. It was then he heard the voice again… “Dagran…” Dagran perked up. It was the voice. The one that comforted him when he was younger and helped him on the path of illumination. He looked up once more and awaited. “Your ship has arrived… it is time for you to return home…” Dagran smiled before he began thinking. “Ship… ship… Closest port town was pretty far. But… I have to do this. I have to have faith,” Dagran told himself. And so he ran away from his master and traveled 200 miles to the closest port town. In a miraculous turn of event, he ended up arriving on time to a ship with a sympathetic captain who agreed to let him on. After three days, the crew arrived in Griffain. Despite this, their troubles were beginning. Twenty-eight days they have spent, wondering around in the wilderness. Hunger began taking its toll on them. However, Dagran had faith and he told them to have faith. He restored vigor into their spirits. Shortly afterwards, they went across some wild poultry, whom they captured and used for eggs, so they could gather their strength back. For this, they became grateful to Dagran. After various mishaps, he made his way back to his family, ever so grateful to see them. He was a changed ram. He left ignorant and young. He returned a little older and a little wiser. However, he was grateful to the pirates. He was grateful to the folk of the Emerald Isle. It was through there that he was illuminated. He wanted to repay them. He needed to repay them. He found his calling. He would study further to become even more illuminated. He would practice magic of all sorts. After his triumphant return back home, Dagran proceeded to study and as much as he could. Eventually, armed with his new knowledge and wisdom, he got on a ship. To return to the Emerald Isles. And free it. And so Dagran began the long journey of purging the Emerald Isles of what some called the Fair Folk. Initially, he used spells and such to repel them, but it was sometimes difficult due to how temporary the solutions were. While he would successfully go and chase the mischievous beings out, they would come back in a few more days, more cautious than last time. Furthermore, Dagran was trying to figure out how to rid the wyrms. However, one day, Dagran discovered it. “Away, vile cat sidhe,” Dagran said as he chased away the fae away from the town it was tormenting. Dagran smiled as the townsfolk cheered. However, this victory would be short-lived. This was the 3rd time he visited this town. He needed a more permanent solution to keep the beasts at bay. They weren’t terrible, barring the wyrms mayhaps, but they were rather amoral about their actions and didn’t want to share the lands. Some were good and the townsfolk came to their aid, but overall, it was a problem, He then went to his field to meditate. Interestingly enough, none of them ever came to trespass. As Dagran was in thought, he noticed some of the flowering plants growing nearby in a pond. Out of curiosity, he put some magic in him and watched it flow. It grew and split into a plant with three leaves. “Perhaps this could work,” Dagran said as he smiled and decided to test out the plant. Dubbing the ‘leaf of Pádraig’, better known as ‘leaf of Patrick’ and water-plantains, he took some with him. As he traveled, the beings stood away and even backed off, sensing the plant. With this, news spread like wildfire. The townsfolk planted the plants near their water. Around their rivers. Around their ponds and lakes. With this, most of the fair folk backed off, the power of the plants holding them back. Eventually, the benevolent ones hid in the forests while the malevolent ones were chased out west and locked inside a magical ‘Fairy Rath (ringfort)’ and hidden away by magic. In the northern regions of the Emerald Isles laid Beann Boirche, the tallest mountain of that region. On the summit, the Great Cairn was made. Over 36 meters from north to south, 43 meters from east to west and a meter high. The Great Cairn served as the portal to the strange Otherworld where most of the so-called fairy folk vanished into. To watch over it, Dagran appointed one of his younger followers, Donard, to watch over the mountain. “Sir, I thank you for this honor, but why did you select me?” Donard asked Dagran. Dagran smiled as he petted Donard on the head affectionately. “Donard, I knew you since you were in your mother’s womb. In fact, I blessed you while you still rested in it,” he told him. Donard’s eyes widened with amazement before he and Dagran faced the large monument they have made to signal the portal to the realm that became known as the Otherworld. “Donard, you will not die.” Donard faced Dagran with curiosity. “If you choose to protect this mountain, you will instead be one with it. You will be the watcher and protector of this mountain,” Dagran explained with a solemn tone. Donard faced the mountain once more. “I choose to do so, sir,” he said with confidence. And so the northern mountain was renamed Slieve Donard, and the first major milestone was completed. For the first time, the inhabitants felt free as they no longer had to live in fear, at least not as much. Despite this triumph, Dagran’s greater accomplishments were all on the horizon. Perhaps the greatest legend associated with Dagran was him chasing out the serpents out of the Emerald Isle. While modern scholars argue there were no serpents to begin with and that it was an allegory, there were in fact the wyrms. They still roamed the land. These mighty beasts surfed through the earth like fish through water and sometimes they would gobble up townsfolk like a common snake would eat a mouse. For Dagran, that was no more. Enough was enough. Dagran the Ram would cast out the wyrms out of the Emerald Isle. However, how would it be done… Dagran began roaming the land and exploring more. He preached to others and gave them hope. If they didn’t want to abandon their beliefs, it was fine. His time as a slave gave him great sympathy to the unfortunate and believed everyone to be equal in the eyes of the heavens. His followers would take the old and mix it with the new and avoided any bloodsheds. Despite this rebuilding, there was still the issue of the wyrms. However, this was initially in the back of his mind. Dagran finished his latest sermon as he rung his bell, signaling the end. “I believe that was one of my better ones,” Dagran told a disciple. “Where’d you get the bell? It looks rather lovely,” the disciple asked him. “It was a gift. From one of the tribes far away, they gave it to me. According to them, it belonged to a mythical being named Brigid. They told me that she was a grand patroness of poetry, smithing, medicine, arts and even of the spring. That she was associated with all aspects of fire, such as warmth, light and illumination. They found it fitting,” Dagran explained before some of the townsfolk fled. Dagran braced himself and so did his disciples. It was a wyrm attack. The wyrm was a rather basic one for its kind. While it was no dragon, it was still a fearsome creature. Dagran looked at the bell and suddenly, he was lit with inspiration. He channeled his magic into the bell as he was chanting under his breath. His eyes then glowed as he faced the wyrm. “BEGONE!” He bellowed as he rang the bell, filled with his will and magic. The wyrm was afraid as it submitted under the bell. It fled from the land, scared by the bell and its manager and plunged into the sea. Dagran smiled as he realized that he now knew how to purge the land of these foul serpents of the dark. The bell would work. However, Dagran knew only this bell would work. He also realized to banish every single wyrm away from the land would require powerful magic and a great deal of time. After much thought, he knew where he must go: “Everygoat. I have called you all here for a very important reason,” Dagran said to his followers. “The time has come for the Emerald Isle to be free of the monsters that has haunted it. No more will the good folk here have to live in fear. I had learned that through the power of this sacred bell imbued with my magic, a wyrm could be banished into the sea, not to disturb again,” he preached, as his followers smiled with delight. “However, to purge the land of wyrms all at once would be a tremendous and powerful task. In order to do so, I plan to go to the tallest mountain in all the land and meditate there for equal the time of the Great Deluge. From there, I shall ring the Bell and free this land!” Dagran shouted. “So I must ask of you, who will join me? The journey will be long and arduous. There will be perils as plenty wyrms will try and stop us. However, remember this: We do this not for glory or for wealth. We do this to liberate this land. We do this to guarantee the basic safety of the good lambs, goats, sheeps and good fair folk here. We do this because it is our pious duty. We do this because it is the RIGHT THING TO DO!” There was silence before each and everyone of his followers stepped up. They would go and follow him. Dagran divided them into groups. Some would stay behind and protect the town. Others would follow to find homes of their own. This brave group of warriors, archers and priests would go down to be known as the Fellowship of the Shamrock. However, the wyrms were mobilizing…. The tallest mountain in the land was Corrán Tuathail, located among the southern-west regions of the land. The group plans to navigate over there by taking the River of Sionna as southmost as they could. Before it empties into sea, they will stop and continue their journey on foot. As the brave group of warriors, preists and paladins made their way down to the river, any wyrm was banished by Dagran and Brigid’s Sionna’s river was quite vital to the Emerald Isle since ancient times. If one dared to disturb it, it could be disasterous for many. One powerful and clever wyrm decided to do that when news reached of Dagran’s attempts to drive its kind out of the Isles. “Something is wrong here.” Dagran noticed the flow of the water began going backwards, away from their destination, rather towards it. The ships they were on began rocking and shaking from the two flows disrupting one of another and Dagran managed to get his party onto land. “It appears something has usurped the flow of the river,” Dagran said as he led the party to the nearby town. There was trouble alright. “The river began acting like this a week ago,” one of the villagers told Dagran. “Not only can we not sail, but much of the fish have been disturbed by this and we fear matters will grow worse,” he told him. “I found something!” Another of the villagers cried out as he ran toward them. Dagran led his followers to what he found. It was a rather large scale. Dagran poked it with his ash stick before he scowled. “A wyrm. Judging by the size and luster, it is a mighty one indeed. If it believes it can stop us, it is mistaken,” Dagran said. Knowing the wyrm must be crafty, he began planning. However, they would need a diversion. “Who here is brave enough to join us in luring the wyrm out?” He asked of the townsfolk. There was initially silence before a slightly slurred voice was heard. “I will.” The townsfolk stepped back to reveal the brave and mildly inebriated goat. “The name is Ó Ruairc. I haven’t seen this wyrm and I have been coming to and from the river,” he said. “I see. Do you know anything significant while you do your routes?” Dagran asked him. Ó Ruairc began thinking. “Not really. I’m just a humble bard, a piper,” he answers. Dagran rubbed his beard in thought before he smiled. “My friend, you may be exactly what we need,” Dagran stated. The group began to approach the river where the wyrm stayed. “There he is. He is said to be one of the oldest wyrms here. His name is Oilliphéist,” the village elder said to Dagran. “What do you need me to do?” Ó Ruairc asked Dagran. “I need you to play your pipes as best as you can and as long as you can,” Dagran answered. Ó Ruairc smirked before he went over near the beast. Unlike most wyrms, this one was winged. Dagran positioned the archers near the wings in order to prevent the beast from returning. Ó Ruairc took a large breath and began playing. He began playing loud and long. It wasn’t long before Oilliphéist took noticed and swallowed him. However, that did not stop Ó Ruairc. In the belly of the beast, he continued to play, without a care of the world. The constant music began to drive the Oilliphéist insane. It swam around and thrashed in order to try and silence the drunk piper in vain. At this, Dagran had the archers proceed to launch arrows at the Oilliphéist’s wings, causing it further pain. Dagran then blocked out all noise and began to chant as the warriors damaged the wings and any other part of the wyrm they could. The Oilliphéist could stand no more and spat out the piper. He laughed at the massive wyrm before the wyrm realized it was a trap. Before he could do anything, Dagran played his bell and the burst caused the wyrm to tumble. The river carried the Oilliphéist out into the sea, never to bother them again. “We did it. Let’s all celebrate with some whisky,” Ó Ruairc said, earning the laughter of everyone, his included. With the news of the Oilliphéist being defeated and banished, some of the wyrm fled in fear. However, most stayed, still steadfast in the impossibility that the ram could banish them all. Eventually, the Fellowship of the Shamrock reached it. Corrán Tuathai. The tallest mountain of the Emerald Isles. They began to climb the mountain from the north-eastern side. The group traveled along the Hag's Glen and up the steep Devil's Ladder. After approaching the mountain path, they traveled north-west and reached the summit. While most of the group began to prepare for the long days and nights to watch out for any wyrms, Dagran prepared for his meditation. For fourty days and fourty nights, he stood there meditating with this bell in front of him. He ate nothing. He drank only the dew that collected in his goblet. Every hour he channeled his magic into the bell and began chanting and praying from his personal book, ‘The Angels’ Gospel.’ And then, he stood. He had an eerie green glow to him. His followers stood back and prepared himself. To every wyrm that was out there, they felt it. It was magic… no, it was as if powerful magic had been touched by the divine… A miracle was about to occur. “TO ALL WRETCHED WYRMS WHO CURSE THIS LAND, BY THE POWER INVESTED IN ME BY THE HEAVENS, I BANISH ALL OF YOU FROM THE EMERALD ISLES!!!” he commanded. From there, a powerful ringing sound was heard from the almighty bell. All across the Emerald Isles, all the wyrms big and small began fleeing from the powerful command, reinforced by the scared bell and great amounts of magic. It was a site to see as wyrm after wyrm fled the Emerald Isles. Dagram collapsed back and his followers caught him. They cheered and celebrated. All the wyrms were gone. And yet, the bell awoke something else. Slumbering from under the earth, it arose. The mother of all monsters in the Emerald Isles. Caoránach. “I think I am being followed,” Dagran wrote in his journal. After the quest, the group moved on with their lives. “It has been several years since we have banished all the wyrms. I have been hearing the rumors. That a greater and fouler beast has been awakened on that day. I believe that was also when the mysterious sheep began following me. She seems to be afraid to come near my home on Cruach Phádraig, a mountain the Isles let me name.” “In my dreams, the voice that has guided me throughout my life ever since that day has told me to head north.” “Near a lake of red, is where my final act will occur.” “I write this as the final chapter of my mortal life and I am thankful for everything” Dagran finished before he got his staff, now a crosier, and began heading north, with the mysterious sheep following him also. It had been a long journey and now it was time to end. Dagran approached the lake. It was Loch Derg. The ewe behind him was gone. Suddenly, a massive serpent, larger than any wyrm he has seen arose. It was her. The mother of all demons. Caoránach. She roared in a hissing fashion at him. Dagran prepared himself as he submerged himself in the water to fight the mother of all monsters. Dagran and Caoránach fought in the lake for two days and two nights. Despite this, they were at a stalement. Caoránach attempted to swallow Dagran. A foolish mistake. Not giving up or giving in, Dagran slashed his way out of the mother of monsters. She bled into the lake, turning it a crimson. Dagran leaped out and prepared his final incantation. As Caoránach struggled, she was levitated as Dagran’s strongest spell stripped her of her flesh and her bones began turning to stone. Eventually, an island was formed. Dagran used his crosier to drag her spirit. As he walked on the island, he plunged her into the deepest pit he found and she would remained trapped in what would be known as St Patrick’s Purgatory for all time. “It is done,” he said as he rested his staff on the ground and laid near it. “The Emerald Isles are free.” As he closed his eyes, it was as if time had not passed it all or perhaps time passed quickly. It was total stillness before he saw a purple feather land on him. “Dagran the Ram. You have freed the Emerald Isles. Your descendants as well as the descendants of your followers will spread all across the world and celebrate the meaning of the spirit of the Emerald Isles.” “Will you protect this?” Dagran smiled as he closed his eyes once more. “Aye.” And suddenly, he vanished in shamrocks. Many of his followers held a funeral and was regarded as one of the greatest heroes. He remained in their hearts and in the hearts of the future folk who came from the Isles of Green. And they say he is out there. Bringing mirth and helping those connect to the strange but joyful homeland of the Emerald Isles and to remember his courage in freeing it. Author's Note Well, here is Chapter 2. Sorry it took long. I hope Chapter 3 and 4 wont take as often. Happy Holidays!
Prologue: She Who Keeps TimeHolidays. A day, a week, or even longer… a time of year where one breaks the routine of daily life and follow a special tradition. From holidays celebrating workers, parents and trees, to the marking of victories, tragedies, beginnings and endings, holidays are a vital part of the culture of whatever society. Despite the many different cultures, there are often trends that follow each culture. Holidays of harvest for example. Because of this, some holidays converge all together that a powerful spirit is born. This spirit represents the essence of the holiday. Sometimes they change shape, form or name depending on the culture or even take on allies or assistants if the workload becomes too much, but they take their job to ensure the holiday continues to the best of their ability. The origin of a spirit usually comes from someone who embodied the meaning of the holiday they will come to represent or even found it in the first place. All spirits were at one point mortal. Much like how the Alicorn Sisters of Equestria are heralds of the sun and moon, they are not the only powerful beings in this world. In the same way, these spirits came from all walks of life. In our story, we will tell the story of four different spirits. Each of them represent a vital holiday and furthermore, have taken themselves to represent a season. They are: Saint Hooves the Reindeer, Dagran the Ram, Athena the Serpent and Mortis the Headless Horse. Saint Hooves is the guardian of Winter. He is the spirit of Christmas and the other winter holidays. Dagran the Ram is the guardian of Spring. He is the spirit of St Patrick’s Day and other spring holidays. Athena the Serpent is the guardian of Summer. She is the spirit of Valentine’s Day and other summer holidays. Mortis the Headless Horse is the guardian of Fall. He is the spirit of Halloween and other autumn holidays. When the pre-spirit mortals usually start approaching their ascension when strange and sometimes dire situations are occurring. During these situations, they show their true colors and their merit as being worthy. They are then approached by the one who oversees the birth of the holiday spirits, Aion, Keeper of Time. Before we tell the stories of the four spirits, we must first talk of the one who creates and guides them, Aion, the Keeper of Time. Aion was said to be the mother of all phoenixes, born among the stardust and cosmic flames of the first stars being brought to life. She is the keeper of birth, death and rebirth and is such viewed as an almighty herald of Time itself. Beyond her mastery over time, she could manipulate her size and shape in order to interact with mortals, which is how she mothered the race of phoenixes. Here is an excerpt about him from a creation myth from the forerunners: “And as the first stars were born from the embers of the furnace of creation, the first moment of passing occurred. From the merging of star dust from all the first-born stars was the one who defined the creation of firstness… A cosmic egg from which came the divine siblings, Aion, Astraeus, Protogonos, Ananke, Demiourgos, Physis, and Xenoangelos With the birth of Aion came the birth of time. With the birth of Astraeus came the birth of space. Aion was a winged marvel and at her first sound was the signal of the beginning of time. Aion spread her wings and captured the pure embers from the furnace of creation and began to fly throughout across her twin brother, Astraeus. A powerful halo, one that the stars themselves wore, lighted up behind her like a crown. Seven rays of light showered from it; with these guiding lights, beings became aware of time. From the long crest of feathers on her head, representing the rivers of time, to her almighty wings, her visage was a beautiful color of violets and purples. A First Daughter of Creation. The Mistress of Time. The Herald of Eternity. As she flew, golden grains would float from down her ever-expanding wings. To many a mortal, it was to be known as the Sands of Time. From the small seeds growing into a mighty tree, she was there. From the first cries of an infant to their final words, she was there. Her wings encompasses all that was, all that is and all that will be.” Aion’s association with the holidays was not understood well with ancient times; it was believed when calendar systems were created and protoholidays were celebrated was when he began to appear more often in legends beyond that of creation. Aion is mostly considered myth now, only known to the blessed folk and other powerful mortals or demi-deities that have responsibilities over their subjects. However, to these four special beings, Aion is their overseer. To ensure that the special times would never be forgot. Despite being a goddess of a time even before the First Age, her influence was still seen subtly, through cucco clocks with birds to the legend of clock making inspired by a circling bird around dawn and dusk. Even though she had many champions come and go, they are still honored in her memory and in myth of the world. These are the stories of these champions. Author's Note I thought this was an interesting way to begin... I am not sure if I can get every one of the stories up by the end of the contest, but I will try.
Chapter I: The Gift-GiverSt. Hooves the Reindeer is arguably the most famous among the spirits. He was born on the eastern half of the world, in the massive tundra of the region sometimes called Sideeria. However, this is the story of when he was mortal… The story of Rudolphus… Rudolphus Nikolaos was born near the end of December, the youngest of out of all of his family. However, during this time, a lunar eclipse occurred in the sky. His brother believed that this led to his strange birthmark, a strange red nose that could light up the same way a unicorn’s horn could. His parents on the other hand, believed it was from some unicorn heritage that both parents had and Rudolphus was decided that he would have this unusual thing. As a child, Rudolphus was always curious and his large eyes were filled with wonder, fascinated with everything that worked in the small village they grew up in. This sometimes made it difficult for his family to keep up with him as he would try and help out in any way he could to learn. Outside of his mother and father, the family had a paternal grandmother and then there was Rudolphus’ older brother. His name was Klaubaufus. He was a hefty and very large reindeer, to where he was sometimes called ‘Klaubaufus the Giant.’ He was born when the couple was young and so Klaubaufus is much older than Rudolphus. The first real sign of Rudolphus’ special fate was seen when he was still a young fawn… “But why can’t you take to town, babushka?” little Rudolphus asked his beloved grandmamma. “Klaubaufus is in the woods cutting lumber with Father while Mother is away visiting her friends,” he pointed out. Because of his unusual nose, he didn’t have any friends. His parents knew, but they didn’t know what to do. Fortunately, Grandmother Nikolaos seem to have an idea. “All right, my little one,” Grandmother Nikolaos said. “I think I know what you need to cheer you up,” she said with a kindly smile. She had dressed them up in their scarves to keep them warm and their hats. Rudolphus’ was red, his favorite color. The pair exited their house and followed the path into town. The paths were lit with their wicker street lights and there were a few other deer around. The snow was falling gently and Rudolphus smiled as he caught a dainty little snowflake on his nose. His grandmother couldn’t help but giggle. She loved how her little grandson could see the beauty in everything and how his optimism was infectious to everydeer. He reminded her of her late husband. Maybe… just maybe… “How about we get you something new?” she suggested to Rudolphus as they went to a smaller part of town. It was an open field where travelers could set up temporary shops. The old doe smiled as she saw a familiar site. This was certainly a surprise. “Great-Uncle Sinterklaas! I didn’t know you were in town!” Rudolphus shouted with mirth as he saw the elderly reindeer step out with a smile. “It was a surprise visit actually. I didn’t plan on running out of lumber so soon, but business has been so well, I need to restock before I move back for the season,” Sinterklass explained to him. “What do you mean, great-uncle?” Rudolphus explained. “You see Rudolphus, in a few weeks, blizzard season starts up near the mountains. We don’t have to worry about that. For them however, mostly everydeer but the strongest and furriest stay indoors. Little work can be done. Because of that, many deer purchase a variety of things to help keep them content indoors during the blizzard,” Sinterklaas explained. Rudolphus began thinking. “What kind of things do you make, Great Uncle?” he asks. “Not much really. I just tend to make some furniture that the adults can use for guests and such,” he says. Rudolphus continued to think. He looked at what Sinterklaas had. There were all sorts of stools, chairs and so on. It was rather simple and basic. Rudolphus realized something. There was nothing for kids. That wasn’t right. Kids needed something to do while it was it was dangerous to go outside. “Great-uncle, may I help?” Rudolphus asked after a moment of inspiration. “I’m not sure, my boy... why would you want to make furniture?” his great-uncle asked him. “I don’t wanna make furniture. I wanna make toys. For the kids who don’t have em,” Rudolphus said with a smile. A smile that found its way onto the elderly brother and sister. And so little Rudolphus learned the basics of wood-working from his great-uncle. Rudolphus was a natural at it. His imagination allowed him to come up with new ideas and ended up creating all sorts of toys. From simple, movable figurines of different animals to blocks with animals and letters on them to even simple little carts with wheels and so on. However, for the creative lad, it wasn’t enough. After his great-uncle left, he talked to tailors and learned how to make dolls. He talked to a blacksmith and learned metal working. He talked to artists and learned how to make books. He learned and made toys and gifts of all shapes and sizes. As he passed them around to the kids, all for free and no charge, they all looked at him with respect and wonder. Rudolphus became well known around the mountains among children. Not only were they thankful for all of his hard work and passion, but inspired to work hard in their own lives. Over time, Rudolphus began growing into a handsome young buck. Not only that, but the town grew with him. Rudolphus volunteered to be part of the team that will visit the mountain towns to deliver supplies to the less fortunate. Among the various stored foods, blankets and medicine were also the toys and gifts he had made. There were three sleds and there were nine reindeer in total, three deer per sleigh. Rudolphus, now just called Rudolph looked at his peers. The first sleigh was being pulled by Donner, the eldest, and Dasher and Dancer, a romantic duo who were athletic, but also a bit full of themselves. Donner was a serious pony, reminding Rudolph of his older brother. The second sleigh was being pulled by Prancer, Vixen and Cupid. Prancer was Dancer’s brother and he always loved to skate. Vixen was an attractive doe, about Rudolph’s age, but she had a quirk of being attracted to younger bucks. This led her to be with Cupid, the youngest one there. Cupid was mutually lovey-dovey with Vixen and was able to point to deer who would make a good, strong and steady couple. This left Rudolph with his two companions, Comet and Blitzen. Blitzen was a headstrong athletic sort and was a roughneck rival to Dasher while Comet was his younger brother, who was quite good at jumping. They all had various opinions on the toymaking reindeer with his bright red reindeer, ranging from the good to the bad. However, most of them kept their opinion to themselves. Mainly because of Klaubaufus. An elderly reindeer stepped forward, in charge of overseeing them. He had a scar on his eye. From what Rudolph heard, the old buck was called to stop a riot in a town of different races. “Attention!” All nine reindeer stopped their conversations and faced directly at the old deer. “You will take one of the three designated trails along the path and you will be visiting twelve towns. The journey should last no more than twelve days. This is for safety reasons. All right everydeer. Best of luck and return safely,” he said to them. The three teams were saying their goodbyes to their families before Rudolph’s parents approached him with a gift. It was a collar and saddle with jingle bells. It was a brilliant red and the collar resembled a holiday wreath. “We made this for you, son. We know it will keep you warm and the jingle bells will help others know you are close by,” Mr. Nikolaos told his son. His wife smiled and gave her youngest child a hug. A few of the other reindeer rolled their eyes or snickered. Rudolph simply smiled and accepted the gift with pride. And so the three sleds went off, unknown that something or someone was watching them from the shadows… Hours had past and the trail remained mostly quiet. However, Comet, who’s grandparents were once shamans who specialized in division of the weather, felt something was off in the air. “We need to speed this up. We need to reach the town so we can take a rest,” Comet told them. Rudolph and Blitzen faced him. “I agree we have to speed up, but we can keep this up for days,” Blitzen said with bold confidence. “What’s the matter, Comet?” Rudolph asked him. “It’s just that… its gotten colder… and its starting to snow now,” Comet pointed out. Rudolph and Blitzen looked up to see that it was indeed snowing. “I thought the weather was supposed to be fine throughout the trip,” Rudolph questioned. “Doesn’t matter. It’s probably just a few snowflakes,” Blitzen said. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. The snow flurries turned into a blizzard and the reindeer were struggling to move. “Things can’t get any worse,” Comet said, tempting the fates. A massive gust suddenly caused them to slip and tumble, resulting in sliding down the hill and hitting some trees. It was white and gray all around, with no clear landmark in site. “What are we gonna do?” Blitzen said, unusually afraid. He winced as he realized one of his hooves was injured. “We move forward.” Blitzen and Comet faced the young toymaker. They saw the fire in his eyes. “All these kids and grownups are counting on us to bring us this. We cannot give up. We will not give up!” Rudolph said as his nose glowed bright. It glowed brighter than ever before. A red light shined through the blizzard. “Hey, the light’s cutting through all this. I can see the trail,” Comet pointed out. “Let’s move out, guys!” Rudolph said. “Blitzen, you rest on the sleigh. Comet and I will go forward,” he told the two. Surprised by his sudden assertation of leader, the two nodded. Through the use of Rudolph’s nose, he led them back on the path and onto the town. The reindeer stationed cheered and thanked them. “Thank goodness you have arrived, young ones. We were worried none of the others would make it,” one of the guards said. “Wait a minute. Are you saying the other two didn’t make it?” Blitzen asked. “No. You are the first to arrive,” the other said. “That shouldn’t be. Donner’s the most experienced and Dasher and Dancer are some of the strongest reindeer here. The other team had Prancer, who was the best navigator through the ice,” Comet reasoned. “…I’m going to find them.” The two faced Rudolph. “Rudolph, you can’t be serious,” Comet questioned. The red-nosed reindeer was surprising them more and more. “I have too. Comet, take Blitzen to the doctor and have his hoof looked that. Then start giving away the things. I’ll be back before you know it,” Rudolph said with a smile. He then went off. “Come on! We have to hurry!” Prancer shouted. “Hang on! That fall we took hurt Cupid really bad,” Vixen shouted back as they struggled to move through the blizzard. They were scared and starting to lose their temper. The wind howled further to echo the atmosphere. Then, through the screeching of the wind, the sound of jingle bells were heard. Through the gray storm, a red light of hope pierced through. “G-guys. It’s Rudolph! He came to save us!” Cupid pointed out. The trio stood in silence as the storm seem to calm briefly with the smiling buck looking at them. “You guys are okay! Come on! I’ll lead you to town!” He told them. As he led through with his bright red nose, the group saw that the quirky toymaker has become their hero throughout this mess. Once they were in town, Cupid was taken to the doctor’s before Rudolph went to look for the last sleigh. It didn’t take long to see they have suffered through the worst. Dasher and Dancer often argued and tended to rebel against authority, even if it was someone as steady as Donner. The former two were unconscious and frost was settling on them. Donner was laying on the side. He had a pretty big wound from an icicle. “Donner, Donner! Stay with me!” Rudolph said as he loaded the other two on the sleigh. Donner grunted, before he saw the light and heard the jingle bells. As Rudolph pulled the sleigh single-hoofedly through the blizzard, he focused on them. It was comforting, to see the light and bells. Everything was going to be okay. Dasher and Dancer woke up in the Doctor’s. The eight reindeer embraced one another that they were all okay. “Where’s Rudolph? Cupid asked. “He’s apparently fixing the sleights and trying to make them into one. He said we’re all going to stick together so none of us get hurt again,” Blitzen explained. “He saved us. While we were all competing, he went and saved us,” Prancer said as he stared out the window and saw Rudolph finish fixing the sleighs. “The toymaker saved us…? I can’t believe it,” Dasher said as he looked stunned at the revelation. All of them had teased Rudolph once or twice, with Dasher and Dancer being the most open. But they all looked at respect at how he really was. They saw him for how he really was. One by one, they all came out and faced him. “Rudolph. As of this moment, you’re in charge,” Donner said. Rudolph looked surprised to say the least. “You’re the only one who can do this. When all of us began fretting, you came to save us,” Blitzen continued. Rudolph looked at the others, who looked at him with agreement. Even Dasher and Dancer. “Listen up everydeer!” “We aren’t doing this for us! We’re doing this for all the does and bucks who don’t have food for the storm. We’re doing this for the kids who aren’t as fortunate as we are to have nice toys. We’re gonna bring them joy and wonder and show them not to give up! “We do this, together!” Rudolph said, his voice cutting through the wind. The other reindeer raised their hooves in support as they all went through the trails. Despite the storm, the light allowed them to find the way. When they felt overwhelmed by the wind, they focused on the comforting sound of Rudolph’s jingle bells. As they finally arrived at the last town, the council of elders welcomed them. “Your journey has inspired everydeer! Despite this sudden blizzard, you all pulled through excellently. Our gratitude is extended to you all,” the head elder told them. “Sir. We thank you for this. But it was all because of Rudolph. When we faltered, when we fought, when we were in peril, he was there to pull us through,” Donner announced. The other deer nodded. The elders muttered as they saw Rudolph, now looking mildly shy and modest at all the praise he was receiving. “Rudolphus Nikolaos, step forward.” He stepped to the front of the elders. “For your courage, for your compassion, for your dedication to children everywhere, you are granted the title of Saint. By the power invested in me by the holy order of the land, you are now and forever, Saint Hooves the Reindeer.” Rudolph, now Saint Hooves, looked awestruck before he accepted the honor. And so began a strong friendship between the nine. For the next several years, they delivered gifts to the good little fawns around. Finally, Saint Hooves’ greatest challenge appeared. The moment he would become a Spirit. “Saint Hooves!” Dasher ran into the workshop. Saint Hooves was working hard on the brand-new toys and showing his apprentices what to do. “What is it, Dasher?” he asked. “It’s a message from the elders. They say its urgent,” Dasher said as he presented the letter. Saint Hooves read it. Apparently, they found out that a local town has been neglected because it was cut off by a seemingly-perpetuating blizzard. Saint Hooves got dressed and a bag of toys in case and he looked out. He squinted his eyes. He made out a large isolated plot of clouds were twisting. “Everydeer…” Saint Hooves said. He was now a strong buck in the prime of his life. However, he grew a patch of white around his chest, making it seem like he has a large beard. He looked to his friends and apprentices. “I may not come back from this. If I don’t, I want you keep doing this. I may be gone physically, but I will live on in all of you. That is my dream. To always put smiles on all the good little children of the world. To ensure that people have their faith and hard work rewarded. If something happens to me, keep my dream alive,” he told them. They all cheered as he went off. He saw the decorations. Ever since his sainthood, there were now weird tributes to him. They would decorate the local evergreens with lights to serve as a reminder of his light and to tell travelers they will take them in, to serve as his compassion. There was even a few with the hook-shaped treats he made, in case they were hungry. Saint Hooves headed to the strange town. And to his destiny. Step by step, hoof by hoof, Saint Hooves kept trotting through the snow, his light shining through. He wondered what was going on. However, he also felt he was being followed. As he ran through the white faster and faster, a blur came and smacked him. The Saint lost his balance and ended up crashing into a freezing pond. He shivered as he shined his light. He looked around and saw something frozen. No, someone. It was a white snow monkey. The ones fabled to live in the mountains of the Far East. They survive the cold in ponds of hot water and said they could travel the world by burrowing. He didn’t know why one was sitting frozen. But he knew he had to help. He swam as best as he could and picked up the frozen monkey with his antlers before he got out and continued. However, the icy plunge took his toll and he collapsed, his light thawing out the monkey. The next thing Saint Hooves felt was hot water. He woke up with a yelp as he looked around. There were hot spring monkeys everywhere. They were looking rather sad. He cleared his throat and faced one that looked like the leader. He was a bit larger than the others and held a stick in his hand. “Thank you for saving me. I don’t have much, but I have some toys…” he said as he presented the bag. The monkeys looked at the toys with fascination and wonder. Saint Hooves then remembered what he had to do. “Listen, do you know how to get to there?” he asked, signaling the storm. The monkeys hid and shuddered at the name. The old monkey banged the stick once as he looked at the Saint in the eye, before bowing his head, thanking him for saving the lost child. He nodded before he chattered to the monkeys before facing the Saint with a questioning look. “There are ponies and deer and other species there that need help. And I am going to give it to them no matter what. I will break through this storm and help them gain the courage to smile again,” he said with determination The old monkey gazed before he smiled and chattered some more. The monkeys all formed behind the Saint. This reindeer was special, they sensed it. He saved one of their own and gave them something that brought joy to them. It was a wondrous thing. “You’re all going to follow me?” he asked them. They all nodded. Saint Hooves smiled at them. “Let us go then,” he said as they continued the long trek. “Frozen, they’re all frozen!” Saint Hooves said in shock. Ponies, reindeers, moose, all were frozen. They were all frozen in expressions of anger and misery. “Everyde-… hrm, everyone! I want you to go and try and thaw them out,” Saint Hooves said before he saw something on the outskirts of the town. It was a spire of ice. He felt that was where the answers lied. The monkeys then chattered in anger and confusion as they saw something try and attack them. Saint Hooves’ eye widened. It was a wendigo. Of course… This was the border town! The one said to be near the top of the world. This was why all the blizzards were happening! “Stay away!” Saint Hooves said as his nsoe glowed. The monkeys looked in awe as the wendigos hissed and fled away. The light was bright that a local frozen fawn was thawed. He was confused before he heard them. The jingle bells. “Its you… It’s Saint Hooves!” he said with excitement. He smiled for the first time in a long time. As more wendigos came out to try and attack, Saint Hooves banished them with light and with the sounds, hope spread. “Get everyone out now,” he told the monkeys. They nodded as they had everyone gather their possessions to flee the area. Meanwhile, Saint Hooves went up the spire of ice to confront whoever was in charge. In a large hall, he saw it. It was unlike any of the wendigos he saw. It was a giant moose with antlers of icicles. It was ghost-white with red eyes. It roared with the howl of the cruelty of cold. It was the Winter Elder… or at least it took it shape. The spirit of the cold. The dark side of it. Saint Hooves shined his light and the creature howled as it got on its hind legs and charged at Saint Hooves. Saint Hooves moved, his bells jingling, signaling his presence. The presence of wonder. It did not make sense to the Winter Elder. It roared as it went and slammed into Saint Hooves. The Saint fell, but managed to get up. Wounded and tired, but unyielding. Everyone was depending on him. He will not give up. He focused everything into his nose as it glowed brighter and brighter. The lights filled the air and pierced the storm. He was sweating as he focused more and more and released a brilliant shine. The beast banished in a flame of red. The Saint collapsed. He was happy. He manage to bring joy to everyone. He just wished it didn’t have to end so soon. He saw the monkeys go and surround him. All of them were there. Everyone was safe. Suddenly, a miracle occurred. In the eyes of Saint Hooves, he looked up to the night sky and saw the night in purple. For a moment, he though he saw a bird. Rudolphus Nikolaos… Saint Hooves… You have proven yourself… We still need you… The world still needs you… For as winter approaches and the cold pushes people apart, you need to help them push back together… Do you accept this… Do you wish to continue your dream? “…Yes” Saint Hooves said with a smile. The monkeys smiled and chattered, symbolizing their loyalty to the one who taught them joy. Saint Hooves felt himself growing light as he floated in the air. A red light showered the whole area and it vanished into the night…. News spread of how he defeated the stormbringer. There was joy and yet there was tragedy. Donner and the others were confused. What were they going to do without Rudolph? They then remembered his words. It gave them comfort. Then, a miracle occurred. They saw him. For a moment they saw him, everyone did. Stories of him appearing across, bring his sleigh around the land and around the world to bring toys to good children. They say they even saw white monkeys help deliver the toys on the sleigh. They knew it was him. With his red light and his jingle bells. The story became legend. The legend of St. Hooves the Reindeer… Author's Note And we have the first one down. I am hoping to get the others up soon. I am not sure I can, but I have to try. I hope you guys like it. I may add a bonus chapter about Klaubaufus later. Stay tuned and happy holidays!
Chapter II: The LiberatorDagran the Ram is a national hero in the Emerald Isles. Despite this, he was not born in the Isles, but in the Kingdom across, as a young Dagran Pádraig. Dagran Pádraig was born as the son of a deacon over in the region of Canis Griffinania. His grandfather was also a priest. Despite his background, Dagran wasn’t an active believer or practioner of magic. However, all of that changed one day. When he was a young teenaged ram, he was kidnapped by sheep pirates of the Emerald Isle. He was taken hostage and was brought over to the Emerald Isle. Forced into slavery, he ended up becoming a shepherd, a watcher of the wayward sheep folk. Dagran was scared. He was in a foreign land with no way out. Furthermore, he heard whispers. Rumors. Of horrible monsters that roamed the land and watched over the flocks as they minded their business, waiting to strike. In his first year, he was approaching a state of hopelessness. In that, is where the first step toward his destiny began. Dagran awoke from his nightmare. He looked around wildly before he sighed and shuddered. He held onto the only possession he had in this foreign land, a walking stick made of ash wood. Most of the sheep folk were simply minding their own business, usually farming. There was little to do around mostly. Dagran remembered when he would be bored. Now, he was just in a state of constant mild suspense. It was because of lurked across in the woods of the lands. There were all sorts of strange beings that supposedly lurked. There was the banshee. A creepy-looking caprid who’s wails was said to foretold the death of someone. It would sometimes echo around. Because of what else roamed the land, Dagran often heard this wail. The other caprids seem to have become used to it though. There was also the headless caprid, known as the Dullahan. It carried its own head on a stick attacked to it. Its head was made out of what looked like moldy cheese with constant darting eyes and a creepy grin. Its wagon was decorated with bones and seemed ready for a funeral, stopping by someone will die. There was the cat sidhe, a strange black cat that walked on its hindlegs and believed to possess powerful magic. According to ancient legends, a brown one existed that increased her powers to frightening levels with witchweed potion. All of these strange beings lurked the land, but noneso was more feared than the massive serpent-like beings that lurked around. They reminded Dagran of dragons, but they were wyrms; large dragon-like serpents. They were what terrified him the most. Dagran took another breath. This was too much. He didn’t know what to do. “Someone… please… I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. Suddenly, a calming breeze went through the air and there was a comfortable silence for a moment. “Stay strong…” “Who’s that?” Dagran said as he looked around. “The plant below…” the mysterious voice told him. He looked and saw a three-leaf clover. It was three leaves, but one plant. Dagran didn’t understand it, but it reminded him of the ponies. Three races, but one species. It didn’t matter where they came from, they were all caprids. Dagran gained the courage to smile as he placed the three-leaf clover on his staff. Everything would be okay… Six years had passed and Dagran had grown strong. He would fight the wild beasts that threatened the flocks nearby. Despite this, he still retained his desire to go home. It was then he heard the voice again… “Dagran…” Dagran perked up. It was the voice. The one that comforted him when he was younger and helped him on the path of illumination. He looked up once more and awaited. “Your ship has arrived… it is time for you to return home…” Dagran smiled before he began thinking. “Ship… ship… Closest port town was pretty far. But… I have to do this. I have to have faith,” Dagran told himself. And so he ran away from his master and traveled 200 miles to the closest port town. In a miraculous turn of event, he ended up arriving on time to a ship with a sympathetic captain who agreed to let him on. After three days, the crew arrived in Griffain. Despite this, their troubles were beginning. Twenty-eight days they have spent, wondering around in the wilderness. Hunger began taking its toll on them. However, Dagran had faith and he told them to have faith. He restored vigor into their spirits. Shortly afterwards, they went across some wild poultry, whom they captured and used for eggs, so they could gather their strength back. For this, they became grateful to Dagran. After various mishaps, he made his way back to his family, ever so grateful to see them. He was a changed ram. He left ignorant and young. He returned a little older and a little wiser. However, he was grateful to the pirates. He was grateful to the folk of the Emerald Isle. It was through there that he was illuminated. He wanted to repay them. He needed to repay them. He found his calling. He would study further to become even more illuminated. He would practice magic of all sorts. After his triumphant return back home, Dagran proceeded to study and as much as he could. Eventually, armed with his new knowledge and wisdom, he got on a ship. To return to the Emerald Isles. And free it. And so Dagran began the long journey of purging the Emerald Isles of what some called the Fair Folk. Initially, he used spells and such to repel them, but it was sometimes difficult due to how temporary the solutions were. While he would successfully go and chase the mischievous beings out, they would come back in a few more days, more cautious than last time. Furthermore, Dagran was trying to figure out how to rid the wyrms. However, one day, Dagran discovered it. “Away, vile cat sidhe,” Dagran said as he chased away the fae away from the town it was tormenting. Dagran smiled as the townsfolk cheered. However, this victory would be short-lived. This was the 3rd time he visited this town. He needed a more permanent solution to keep the beasts at bay. They weren’t terrible, barring the wyrms mayhaps, but they were rather amoral about their actions and didn’t want to share the lands. Some were good and the townsfolk came to their aid, but overall, it was a problem, He then went to his field to meditate. Interestingly enough, none of them ever came to trespass. As Dagran was in thought, he noticed some of the flowering plants growing nearby in a pond. Out of curiosity, he put some magic in him and watched it flow. It grew and split into a plant with three leaves. “Perhaps this could work,” Dagran said as he smiled and decided to test out the plant. Dubbing the ‘leaf of Pádraig’, better known as ‘leaf of Patrick’ and water-plantains, he took some with him. As he traveled, the beings stood away and even backed off, sensing the plant. With this, news spread like wildfire. The townsfolk planted the plants near their water. Around their rivers. Around their ponds and lakes. With this, most of the fair folk backed off, the power of the plants holding them back. Eventually, the benevolent ones hid in the forests while the malevolent ones were chased out west and locked inside a magical ‘Fairy Rath (ringfort)’ and hidden away by magic. In the northern regions of the Emerald Isles laid Beann Boirche, the tallest mountain of that region. On the summit, the Great Cairn was made. Over 36 meters from north to south, 43 meters from east to west and a meter high. The Great Cairn served as the portal to the strange Otherworld where most of the so-called fairy folk vanished into. To watch over it, Dagran appointed one of his younger followers, Donard, to watch over the mountain. “Sir, I thank you for this honor, but why did you select me?” Donard asked Dagran. Dagran smiled as he petted Donard on the head affectionately. “Donard, I knew you since you were in your mother’s womb. In fact, I blessed you while you still rested in it,” he told him. Donard’s eyes widened with amazement before he and Dagran faced the large monument they have made to signal the portal to the realm that became known as the Otherworld. “Donard, you will not die.” Donard faced Dagran with curiosity. “If you choose to protect this mountain, you will instead be one with it. You will be the watcher and protector of this mountain,” Dagran explained with a solemn tone. Donard faced the mountain once more. “I choose to do so, sir,” he said with confidence. And so the northern mountain was renamed Slieve Donard, and the first major milestone was completed. For the first time, the inhabitants felt free as they no longer had to live in fear, at least not as much. Despite this triumph, Dagran’s greater accomplishments were all on the horizon. Perhaps the greatest legend associated with Dagran was him chasing out the serpents out of the Emerald Isle. While modern scholars argue there were no serpents to begin with and that it was an allegory, there were in fact the wyrms. They still roamed the land. These mighty beasts surfed through the earth like fish through water and sometimes they would gobble up townsfolk like a common snake would eat a mouse. For Dagran, that was no more. Enough was enough. Dagran the Ram would cast out the wyrms out of the Emerald Isle. However, how would it be done… Dagran began roaming the land and exploring more. He preached to others and gave them hope. If they didn’t want to abandon their beliefs, it was fine. His time as a slave gave him great sympathy to the unfortunate and believed everyone to be equal in the eyes of the heavens. His followers would take the old and mix it with the new and avoided any bloodsheds. Despite this rebuilding, there was still the issue of the wyrms. However, this was initially in the back of his mind. Dagran finished his latest sermon as he rung his bell, signaling the end. “I believe that was one of my better ones,” Dagran told a disciple. “Where’d you get the bell? It looks rather lovely,” the disciple asked him. “It was a gift. From one of the tribes far away, they gave it to me. According to them, it belonged to a mythical being named Brigid. They told me that she was a grand patroness of poetry, smithing, medicine, arts and even of the spring. That she was associated with all aspects of fire, such as warmth, light and illumination. They found it fitting,” Dagran explained before some of the townsfolk fled. Dagran braced himself and so did his disciples. It was a wyrm attack. The wyrm was a rather basic one for its kind. While it was no dragon, it was still a fearsome creature. Dagran looked at the bell and suddenly, he was lit with inspiration. He channeled his magic into the bell as he was chanting under his breath. His eyes then glowed as he faced the wyrm. “BEGONE!” He bellowed as he rang the bell, filled with his will and magic. The wyrm was afraid as it submitted under the bell. It fled from the land, scared by the bell and its manager and plunged into the sea. Dagran smiled as he realized that he now knew how to purge the land of these foul serpents of the dark. The bell would work. However, Dagran knew only this bell would work. He also realized to banish every single wyrm away from the land would require powerful magic and a great deal of time. After much thought, he knew where he must go: “Everygoat. I have called you all here for a very important reason,” Dagran said to his followers. “The time has come for the Emerald Isle to be free of the monsters that has haunted it. No more will the good folk here have to live in fear. I had learned that through the power of this sacred bell imbued with my magic, a wyrm could be banished into the sea, not to disturb again,” he preached, as his followers smiled with delight. “However, to purge the land of wyrms all at once would be a tremendous and powerful task. In order to do so, I plan to go to the tallest mountain in all the land and meditate there for equal the time of the Great Deluge. From there, I shall ring the Bell and free this land!” Dagran shouted. “So I must ask of you, who will join me? The journey will be long and arduous. There will be perils as plenty wyrms will try and stop us. However, remember this: We do this not for glory or for wealth. We do this to liberate this land. We do this to guarantee the basic safety of the good lambs, goats, sheeps and good fair folk here. We do this because it is our pious duty. We do this because it is the RIGHT THING TO DO!” There was silence before each and everyone of his followers stepped up. They would go and follow him. Dagran divided them into groups. Some would stay behind and protect the town. Others would follow to find homes of their own. This brave group of warriors, archers and priests would go down to be known as the Fellowship of the Shamrock. However, the wyrms were mobilizing…. The tallest mountain in the land was Corrán Tuathail, located among the southern-west regions of the land. The group plans to navigate over there by taking the River of Sionna as southmost as they could. Before it empties into sea, they will stop and continue their journey on foot. As the brave group of warriors, preists and paladins made their way down to the river, any wyrm was banished by Dagran and Brigid’s Sionna’s river was quite vital to the Emerald Isle since ancient times. If one dared to disturb it, it could be disasterous for many. One powerful and clever wyrm decided to do that when news reached of Dagran’s attempts to drive its kind out of the Isles. “Something is wrong here.” Dagran noticed the flow of the water began going backwards, away from their destination, rather towards it. The ships they were on began rocking and shaking from the two flows disrupting one of another and Dagran managed to get his party onto land. “It appears something has usurped the flow of the river,” Dagran said as he led the party to the nearby town. There was trouble alright. “The river began acting like this a week ago,” one of the villagers told Dagran. “Not only can we not sail, but much of the fish have been disturbed by this and we fear matters will grow worse,” he told him. “I found something!” Another of the villagers cried out as he ran toward them. Dagran led his followers to what he found. It was a rather large scale. Dagran poked it with his ash stick before he scowled. “A wyrm. Judging by the size and luster, it is a mighty one indeed. If it believes it can stop us, it is mistaken,” Dagran said. Knowing the wyrm must be crafty, he began planning. However, they would need a diversion. “Who here is brave enough to join us in luring the wyrm out?” He asked of the townsfolk. There was initially silence before a slightly slurred voice was heard. “I will.” The townsfolk stepped back to reveal the brave and mildly inebriated goat. “The name is Ó Ruairc. I haven’t seen this wyrm and I have been coming to and from the river,” he said. “I see. Do you know anything significant while you do your routes?” Dagran asked him. Ó Ruairc began thinking. “Not really. I’m just a humble bard, a piper,” he answers. Dagran rubbed his beard in thought before he smiled. “My friend, you may be exactly what we need,” Dagran stated. The group began to approach the river where the wyrm stayed. “There he is. He is said to be one of the oldest wyrms here. His name is Oilliphéist,” the village elder said to Dagran. “What do you need me to do?” Ó Ruairc asked Dagran. “I need you to play your pipes as best as you can and as long as you can,” Dagran answered. Ó Ruairc smirked before he went over near the beast. Unlike most wyrms, this one was winged. Dagran positioned the archers near the wings in order to prevent the beast from returning. Ó Ruairc took a large breath and began playing. He began playing loud and long. It wasn’t long before Oilliphéist took noticed and swallowed him. However, that did not stop Ó Ruairc. In the belly of the beast, he continued to play, without a care of the world. The constant music began to drive the Oilliphéist insane. It swam around and thrashed in order to try and silence the drunk piper in vain. At this, Dagran had the archers proceed to launch arrows at the Oilliphéist’s wings, causing it further pain. Dagran then blocked out all noise and began to chant as the warriors damaged the wings and any other part of the wyrm they could. The Oilliphéist could stand no more and spat out the piper. He laughed at the massive wyrm before the wyrm realized it was a trap. Before he could do anything, Dagran played his bell and the burst caused the wyrm to tumble. The river carried the Oilliphéist out into the sea, never to bother them again. “We did it. Let’s all celebrate with some whisky,” Ó Ruairc said, earning the laughter of everyone, his included. With the news of the Oilliphéist being defeated and banished, some of the wyrm fled in fear. However, most stayed, still steadfast in the impossibility that the ram could banish them all. Eventually, the Fellowship of the Shamrock reached it. Corrán Tuathai. The tallest mountain of the Emerald Isles. They began to climb the mountain from the north-eastern side. The group traveled along the Hag's Glen and up the steep Devil's Ladder. After approaching the mountain path, they traveled north-west and reached the summit. While most of the group began to prepare for the long days and nights to watch out for any wyrms, Dagran prepared for his meditation. For fourty days and fourty nights, he stood there meditating with this bell in front of him. He ate nothing. He drank only the dew that collected in his goblet. Every hour he channeled his magic into the bell and began chanting and praying from his personal book, ‘The Angels’ Gospel.’ And then, he stood. He had an eerie green glow to him. His followers stood back and prepared himself. To every wyrm that was out there, they felt it. It was magic… no, it was as if powerful magic had been touched by the divine… A miracle was about to occur. “TO ALL WRETCHED WYRMS WHO CURSE THIS LAND, BY THE POWER INVESTED IN ME BY THE HEAVENS, I BANISH ALL OF YOU FROM THE EMERALD ISLES!!!” he commanded. From there, a powerful ringing sound was heard from the almighty bell. All across the Emerald Isles, all the wyrms big and small began fleeing from the powerful command, reinforced by the scared bell and great amounts of magic. It was a site to see as wyrm after wyrm fled the Emerald Isles. Dagram collapsed back and his followers caught him. They cheered and celebrated. All the wyrms were gone. And yet, the bell awoke something else. Slumbering from under the earth, it arose. The mother of all monsters in the Emerald Isles. Caoránach. “I think I am being followed,” Dagran wrote in his journal. After the quest, the group moved on with their lives. “It has been several years since we have banished all the wyrms. I have been hearing the rumors. That a greater and fouler beast has been awakened on that day. I believe that was also when the mysterious sheep began following me. She seems to be afraid to come near my home on Cruach Phádraig, a mountain the Isles let me name.” “In my dreams, the voice that has guided me throughout my life ever since that day has told me to head north.” “Near a lake of red, is where my final act will occur.” “I write this as the final chapter of my mortal life and I am thankful for everything” Dagran finished before he got his staff, now a crosier, and began heading north, with the mysterious sheep following him also. It had been a long journey and now it was time to end. Dagran approached the lake. It was Loch Derg. The ewe behind him was gone. Suddenly, a massive serpent, larger than any wyrm he has seen arose. It was her. The mother of all demons. Caoránach. She roared in a hissing fashion at him. Dagran prepared himself as he submerged himself in the water to fight the mother of all monsters. Dagran and Caoránach fought in the lake for two days and two nights. Despite this, they were at a stalement. Caoránach attempted to swallow Dagran. A foolish mistake. Not giving up or giving in, Dagran slashed his way out of the mother of monsters. She bled into the lake, turning it a crimson. Dagran leaped out and prepared his final incantation. As Caoránach struggled, she was levitated as Dagran’s strongest spell stripped her of her flesh and her bones began turning to stone. Eventually, an island was formed. Dagran used his crosier to drag her spirit. As he walked on the island, he plunged her into the deepest pit he found and she would remained trapped in what would be known as St Patrick’s Purgatory for all time. “It is done,” he said as he rested his staff on the ground and laid near it. “The Emerald Isles are free.” As he closed his eyes, it was as if time had not passed it all or perhaps time passed quickly. It was total stillness before he saw a purple feather land on him. “Dagran the Ram. You have freed the Emerald Isles. Your descendants as well as the descendants of your followers will spread all across the world and celebrate the meaning of the spirit of the Emerald Isles.” “Will you protect this?” Dagran smiled as he closed his eyes once more. “Aye.” And suddenly, he vanished in shamrocks. Many of his followers held a funeral and was regarded as one of the greatest heroes. He remained in their hearts and in the hearts of the future folk who came from the Isles of Green. And they say he is out there. Bringing mirth and helping those connect to the strange but joyful homeland of the Emerald Isles and to remember his courage in freeing it. Author's Note Well, here is Chapter 2. Sorry it took long. I hope Chapter 3 and 4 wont take as often. Happy Holidays!
