A life time ago, in the deep winter at the time of the Gods offering the land froze and with it came a great horde of Trollfolk. A horn sounded as the first burning torches began to light the horizon in an orange glow. It was as if dawn had come early betraying the night.
Furs and blankets were cast aside, fires abandoned. All but one.
Merin the Druid was still sat by their fire, hands outstretched to the flames for comfort. “Come Druid, give us strength.” The village called out in unison, their spears raised high. But Merin the Druid remained still.
Daggers in hand pointing to the false dawn they pleaded. “Come Druid, prepare us for battle.” But Merin the Druid remained still.
Furious my mother stepped from the now silent crowd.
“Why do you forsake us to fight without woad, you abandon us to death.” She said gesturing to the village now overcome with fear.
“Have none starved this winter, are our stores not full. Truly we have appeased the Farmer. Have we not mourned the passing and celebrated the new life it brings. Truly we have appeased the Midwife.”
“You speak the truth.” My mother replied. “But it is these stores and this life we must protect, no matter the cost. What of the Warrior, have we not appeased her these passing seasons?”
Merin the Druid laughed aloud. “You have now.”
As the false dawn drew closer my mother was marked with symbols unseen before and never again, the woad used was a mix of brown and black. Out into the darkness she walked, alone she went to face the false dawn.
“Have faith in the Warrior.” Merin the Druid told me as my mother disappeared into the darkness. The false dawn never arrived.
My mother is Arien, the Troll slayer, I am Eirwen, former apprentice to the Druid Merin.