The wind howled through a stone circle deep within a long abandoned forest, carrying the whispers of the old gods. The sky above was black as a raven's wing, the thick clouds swirled ominously as if the heavens were gathering to witness the upcoming ritual. Beneath the darkened sky stood the druid, cloaked in robes of green and gray, her palms raised skyward as she began chanting in the ancient tongue of the gods.
"Morrigan, Queen of Fate, She Who Chooses The Slain," Her voice filled with power and an air of desperation. "I call upon you in our hour of need. Our land is ravaged by war, our people are divided and the Norse invaders will soon be upon us. Send your champion, goddess, send the warrior that will lead us out of the darkness."
This druids name was Ana, she was one of very few left in these lands, an ancient keeper of lost rites and forgotten knowledge. Her eyes a pale grey, sharp, and glinted with the weight of countless seasons. Though she appears young, her mind carries proof of the many years she has served the old gods. Tonight she sought their intervention, for the clans of Scotland were on the brink of destruction; splintered by feud, threatened by the Norse, and torn apart by their own pride.
Ana stood alone within the stone circle, the edge of the stone covered in runes older than the kingdom itself. She had come to this sacred ground where the veil between worlds was thin, where the goddess' presence could be felt as much as the wind or the dirt beneath our feet.
"We need your wrath, your wisdom, your chosen warrior." She whispered, her breath forming mist in the cold night air. She reached into the pouch at her belt, pulling out a sacred offering: a raven's feather and a vial of blood, her own. With a swift motion she placed the feather down and poured the vial into the ground at the center of the circle, the red liquid sinking into the earth as if the very ground thirsted for it.
Lightning flashed across the sky, casting an eerie shadow over the stone. Ana felt the air grow thick with a presence, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as a figure emerged from the shadows of the storm; ethereal and terrible...Morrigan.
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She appeared not as a single form, but a carrion crow, before her visage flickered into that of a beautiful maiden with pale skin. Her voice, when it came, was both a whisper and a thunderclap as it echoed in the druids mind.
"You call upon me, Ana of the Old Blood. You seek a champion to save your kin, but the price is steep. Do you understand the cost?"
Ana's heart hammered in her chest, but she didn't falter, she knew the risk when she came here. Morrigan was not a goddess to be invoked lightly, she was Death, Fate, and War incarnate. Right now the clans needed more than swords and shields, they needed a force to unite them, a warrior beyond their imagining.
"I understand, I am ready to pay." Her voice was steady, unwavering in her resolve.
"Are you?" Morrigan asked, her eyes as black as coal, piercing into Ana's soul. "A champion shall come, but not from the world you know. His fire will be foreign and his weapons strange. He will walk between your world and another, his path will also bring both salvation and ruin. Do you accept this fate, knowing what it may cost?"
"I accept." Her voice barely above a whisper.
Morrigan's laughter filled the night sky, almost as if the very wind was laughing at her. "Then it is done." In that moment, the heavens opened. Lightning struck the ground before Ana with a deafening roar, blinding her for an instant. When her vision cleared, she felt a strange ripple through the air, as if the very fabric of the world had been torn apart and instantly stitched back together. The wind fell silent as the stones around Ana hummed with an otherworldly energy.
Morrigan was nowhere to be seen, only a carrion crow that cawed at Ana before flying into the night sky, Ana felt in her heart that the ritual worked. Far from here, in another world and time, a warrior stirred. A man not born of these lands, but fated to shape them; a champion, as promised.
Although Morrigan's final words echoed ominously in Ana's head as she turned to leave the stone circle, the storm still raging overhead. "Salvation and ruin, just what sort of man has the goddess sent us?" The druid muttered to the wind. Pulling her cloak tightly around herself, she absconded from the forest and back to civilization. The clans would soon meet their champion, however what he would bring to them was still uncertain.