Corruption--unfinished

[Becky153]

I'm really doubtful on whether I should continue this because I think it sounds a bit cheesy...

The darkness lay on the land, making me feel as if I were in some sort of tomb, just waiting to lay down for my death. Needless to say, the land hadn't always been this way. I could remember the sun-speckled days of my youth, of the green valleys and clear waters, of lofty mountains with their bearded heads hidden behind smoky clouds. But now it was a desolate land with a burnt out sun and dirtied, poisoned waterways. The reason that this had come to be had no definite beginning, more of a fuzzy idea at first, and then it was there before we knew it. Before we could stop it, before we could demolish it--we were ignorant then, wishing only to save our people through reason but not realizing the greater powers at work in the land. Oh! Even the slowest of children probably saw our mistakes, probably knew how wrong our choices had been. Now that it's too late do we realize how much we've paid for our mistakes, now that our land has been ruined beyond repair and the innocents have been slain in vain greed.

p.s. I used Celtic folklore in this, so if the two bottom parts are confusing that's why

 

[Becky153]

adding more...unsure on whether I should continue but I am...

The losses hadn't even been mourned--all part of gaining our achievements, we whispered to each other as we sat in the King's grand hall, leaning against our gilded chairs and sipping the most expensive wines. Bards! What a falsehood! We were the "most knowledgeable," we were the ones to turn to. But we were the most ignorant of dunces! What sort of a bard allows complete demolition of a country all for so-called "achievements"? I'm ashamed now to be called a bard now, a most unenvied position indeed! My Mabigoni beneath me had all been destroyed as part of my plans, all in my way to turn bad into good--what a pitiable wretch I am! This probably isn't making sense without knowing at least a somewhat defined start, so I'll begin with a beginning--for there are many and only the wisest can chose, and I do not proclaim myself to be the wisest of all.
Arianrhod was the Queen then, ruling by herself. It had been a chancy move, I'll admit, but at first it seemed fine. She was in fine standing, and on top of that she was a Banfaith. Her friend, the half-bard half-warrior Lleu Llau had certainly helped in the decision, it's true, but he was a cursed man--a fact that we had NOT taken into consideration.

 

[Becky153]

haha more--
"Boru? Do you happen to know where Lleu is?"
I turned to face a young, freckled Mabinog looking at me, dark, almost black blue eyes gazing desperately into mine. I laughed and ruffled his fair hair, and he smiled hesitantly, unsure of whether I would deign to answer him or not. "Yes, young Mabinog, I know where Lleu is. Find Bran and you will find Lleu."
The young boy thanked me and ran off, all but tripping over his feet. I was cheered to see the sight, because for some time now I had felt like a cloud of gloom had been settling on my shoulders and all my brooding had yet to figure it out. It was like a plague: all of the bards were feeling this way, perhaps because of our awen. However, whatever the reason may be, we all agreed that it could not be good.

 

[Becky153]

And I was doubting if I should continue it...it appears my mind made itself up without me !

It almost felt as if our life was being sucked out of us in a way, and in another way it was like a heavy burden that laid on our shoulders and refused to move.
I allowed a soft groan under my breath and shrugged my shoulders, trying to hopelessly get rid of my burden. What had I done, anyway? I hadn't done much lately; ever since Arianrhod had been chosen queen the brotherhood of bards had been somewhat dismissed, returning to our own caers and taking care of little details while Arianrhod foolishly chose Lleu to try to awaken his awen.
While climbing the hill to Criarch, I bumped into my brother-bard, Mathonwy, and we embraced each other as kinsmen and began walking up the hall together.
"What have you been doing lately?" He asked the question carefully, treading around the subject we both dreaded.
I wrinkled my nose and gathered my cloak around myself. "Nothing much, mainly just dealing with a farmer who is refusing to farm his land for some non-apparent reason."
Mathonwy glanced quickly around him and then turned to me, his face fervent. "I have heard a rumor, brother."
"A rumor? But we bards are above that, Mathonwy. You, of all people, should know this."

 

[Becky153]

Mathonwy paused for just a second and then bit his lower lip nervously. "I know, Boru, you speak true. But--but this rumor is too appalling to not pay attention to."
My ears pricked at that. "Hmm? So, tell me this great rumor of yours."
"It's of corruption," he whispered, and after looking around he clammed up. "I'll--I'll tell you later, brother," and with a last arm-clasp he left, smoothly hiding into the crowds.
Once he was out of sight I allowed myself time to chuckle. Corruption! In our fair land? Bah! Ramblings of an old bard--except for the fact that they weren't ramblings and that he wasn't old. What if he was going mad? No, the notion was just as silly as the first, for obvious reasons. He had spoken sanely, and his over-cautiousness was a sign that clearly he thought truly that he was doing right by telling me. But the threat was untrue, for we as bards were wise, we as bards would be the first to know.
When I reached the caer, I was shocked at how much had changed since I had been called here last.

 

[Becky153]

and more...

There was refuge in the streets, ugly and stinking. The large brick buildings were covered with dirt and the people moved as though they believed they were about to die. As I walked up the winding streets of the caer, I felt that it was hard to try to keep my awe down to a minimum. Not awe of beauty--on many counts, that was an unchangeable NO, but awe at the disrepair and neglect the caer had gone through. It was amazing what could be done in a year, but my ignorance then of Arianrhod was present, and I hadn't an idea of how much evil she wielded and how obviously evil her intent was.
The fortress of the caer was amazingly impeccable. The tall stone wall showed not a hint of grime, and the gardens had been marvelously well kept. As I went through the gate, my awe turned to anger. Why not let the whole town be like this? What happened to the ruler living in the lives of the people and for the people? At the moment I had my first batch of real anger; I felt like killing someone, a very inhumane act, but it takes understanding of a bard to understand that. My fellow bards in the brotherhood were also responsible! What a lack of responsibility, clearly.
I entered through the fortress' heavy doors and walked uncertainly down the hallway to the meeting room. I knew the hall, certainly, but not as it was shown before me then. On the walls hung dreary tapestries of gore and death, and the floor had an awful tint to it, a sort of blood red, but not quite. Sure enough it stunned me, but what stunned me most was the ceiling. Hung from above were weapons of destruction with caked-on blood and remnants of flesh. I shuddered and tried my best to ignore it, but it was hard. This was what we were going to. And we were still ignorant. What idiots.