Page 38 of Rise of the Morrigan

16

So many battles. Warriors, passing from this life into the next. The confusion on people's faces when they encounter me for the first time. At first, no one knew who I was. They realized I was a goddess. They knew I'd appeared to guide them into the thereafter. But they didn't know who I was. Until they did.

I don't know if it was because I hated war or because I loved it. As Babd, I'd never had much taste for it. But as Anand, I couldn't get enough of it. It wasn't the death and bloodshed that drew me in. It was the passion of men as their spears and blades clashed. As Anand, I'd often played a role in helping our father develop strategies for victory.

Split the army into threes, lure in the enemy with a small force giving them the illusion that they had the upper hand. Then, attack them on the flank with two other armies, hidden in the forests and bushes. I'd come up with the strategy—Anand did, that is. And my father used it liberally. It worked until people got wise to it. Then, we had to think of something else.

As Babd, though, I was more inclined to spare as many lives as possible. I wanted to align myself with whatever side I believeddeservedto win. It wasn't necessarily whatever side had the more just cause to go to battle. For instance, I once came upon a village that had been attacked by another army without provocation.

The army was short on resources and sought to take what they required. One would think, as a goddess of war, I should come to the defense of the village. Only this particular village was dominated by cruel men, men who beat their women as if their wives were slaves, men who were pompous and arrogant. Sure, they had done nothing in the course of the conflict at hand to warrant the attack. But in this particular case, the army that attacked them was an army of men who honored their women, who trained their children to honor the gods... So, I helped the army succeed in destroying the village. The women and children, while they were terrified and lamented the loss of their men, would be better off even if taken captive by their enemies. And they were...

But it wasn't true that I sided with one or the other side in a battle. Sometimes there were individual warriors on either side who honored me. The more times I intervened in wars the more soldiers across the isles began to call upon me. I did not always care, one way or another, which side should emerge victoriously. Sometimes it was the hearts of certain honorable and brave men and women who garnished my affections. I wanted them to survive and endure as heroes.

"What are we doing?" I asked myself.

"We're making a difference. We're helping people."

What the... Macha asked a question. Anand responded. But who am I?

I am Babd...

But I am the Morrigan. Three but one. Together, one divinity, one personality. But we were still distinct? I couldn't wrap my mind around the very mystery of my own essence.

"We must consider our future," I responded.

"We need to find love," Macha replied.

Anand huffed. "Love can wait."

"It can wait, but why should we?" I asked, confused by the fact that I was both talking to my sister and myself all at once. "If we find love of our own we will ever be free of the Dagda. We will rule the domains of both the living and the dead."

"So we're doing this for the power?" Anand asked.

"We're doing it for love!" Macha insisted. "What is eternity, even as a goddess, if one cannot love and be loved!"

"You're both right," I said. "There is a truth to what each one of us... each part of us... is saying."

Something arrested our attention. It was a voice—but not one we could hear. It was a bit like the man's prayer before, the dead man who thanked us. But now... no, this man was not dead. He was very much alive. And he wasn't calling to us. But his voice... his spirit... it drew me in, no less.

"A warrior?" Anand asked.

"And a bard!" Macha said, giggling with excitement.

"Yes," I said. "But more than that, his heart aches. Can you feel it?"

"He wants to be loved..."

Anand huffed. "And he fights for it. He trains to prove his worth.

"Come sisters," I said. "Let us examine this man, consider him, and discern why it is his spirit calls to us. It may be that he, like the man before, that death draws near this man and he simply requires our aid."

When we found the man what we saw was not a man at all. And he was not alone. There was a woman... a woman like him.

My stomach boiled. Was I jealous of this woman... thisthing?

A part of me wanted to seize her by the scruff of the neck and take her place atop the young warrior. Even in their bestial form, whatever they were, there was something beautiful about them.

"There are stories of such warriors," Anand said. "Father always examined the children of any village he raided in hopes of finding one."

---