Date: Mon, 4 Sep 1995 18:54:47 -0400 Reply-To: GrinnyP@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Carol Ann Liddiard Subject: "Origins" Prologue "Origins" c. 1995 by C. A. Liddiard Prologue "And he had in his right hand seven stars: and out of his mouth went a sharp twoedged sword: and his countenance was as the sun shineth in his strength. And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; I am the first and the last: I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and Have the keys of hell and of death. Write the things which thou hast seen, and the things which are, and the things which shall be hereafter;" _Revelations 1:16-19_ --------------------- Western Europe, @12,000 BCE ". . . and the Mother was angry and withdrew her blessing from the People. The game animals fled, the plants died, our home became a barren wasteland. Tribes of Others attacked us, killing the strong, while hunger and disease destroyed the weak. Then first among the mother's servants, One Who Sees, became distraught and sought prophesy from a long fast. When she emerged from her cave, she called for an assembly of the people. 'We have defiled the natural order of life. The Mother will only forgive us our blasphemy if we leave these lands and start anew. I have seen a place set aside for us, one that will sustain us and hold us from our enemies. It is a long journey, far to the north, but we will be safe there from all that is against us.' Many of the people were fearful. 'Why should we leave the land of our ancestors? We will freeze or starve or our enemies will catch us without protection.' And One Who Sees said, 'The Mother will watch over us again only if we do this penance. I will go, and so will my family.' And so it came to pass that most of the people left the caves and followed One Who Sees. We traveled many seasons, and with much hardship. At last, we came to the land which the Mother had provided. It was a harsh land, but there were animals and plants and food enough. The survivors of the journey begged One Who Sees to speak. 'The mother is no longer angry with her children,' she said to us. 'Soon the waters will rise so that we and this land will be isolated from all invaders. Here we will dedicate ourselves to honoring the Mother and her greatest gift to us, Life.' And it was as she said. The waters rose, and the people were protected. We made One Who Sees first among those who serve, and swore to never forget the Mother's generosity." _Oral Legends of the Herrialdaketa: Legends of First Mother_ --------------------- "The melting of the ice at the end of the last interglacial period raised sea levels in the North Atlantic, effectively cutting off contact from other tribes. In an environment of inbreeding such as this many recessive genetic traits may become shared by most, if not all, of the population. We now know that First Mother, often called 'One Who Sees' in our oral histories, was the carrier of the dohain (gift), or the 'Blessing of the Mother' that would eventually shape our destiny. Within 20 generations (approximately 500 years) of the tribe's settlement the first 'Talent' was born." _History of the Herrialdaketa: The Beginnings_ --------------------- Egoitza, Island in the North Atlantic Ocean, @ 11,000 BCE Healer sat by the fire staring blindly into the flames, soothing his thoughts with a chant learned in childhood. Distantly, he could sense the anticipation of the tribe as his moment drew near. Although Healer felt the approach he flinched slightly as Lagun touched his shoulder gently. "It must be soon my friend," his childhood friend said in low tones, "he is failing fast." "I understand," Healer replied. He took a deep breath. "I am ready." The two friends rose from their place by the fire and headed for a hut in the middle of the settlement. Lagun let his mind touch Healer's one last time. *You will do well,* was his only message as he melted into the darkness. Healer could feel the rest of the tribe retreating, giving him the mental distance he needed for the task at hand. The dark entrance of the hut beckoned him, driving out all other thoughts. Healer walked toward the door as in a trance-like state. He paused. Slowly, hesitantly, he crossed the threshold. The simple hut was dark except for a small fire in the central hearth. The firelight cast flickering shadows across the frail old man lying on an elevated platform at the back of the room. Wise One crossed over to the bed and knelt at the old man's head. "I have come to complete the ritual." The old man looked at him with wise, tired eyes, probing Healer's thoughts with ease. *You will do well, my adopted son. It is time now to put all your training to its purpose.* Healer nodded and placed his hands on the old one's head He bowed his head and spoke the first words of the ritual, "As in the beginning we pass on our knowledge so our children might know . . ." and gently touched Entzule's mind with his own. "Now it is time to complete the cycle." He felt the connection tighten and complete itself. *The transfer begins. Good-bye my son.* Healer tensed as a lifetime of memories flooded his brain His mind shuddered under the onslaught of information pouring in, threatening his hold on reality. For a moment, the memories and voices threatened to overwhelm him. He felt his personality begin to wither under the attack until a lifetime of training kicked in. Slowly the thoughts quieted and his mind sorted them into place behind walls and barriers that were a legacy of the training. *Well done, boy. It is complete,* the voice spoke, not from without but from within. The new Wise One opened his eyes to the now still form of the man who had raised him as his own and been like a father to him. *Nonsense, I will always be with you. Now you must make the announcement.* Wise One slowly arose from his kneeling position and touched the old man's withered cheek one last time. He made his way out of the hut and walked towards the huddled groups at the edge of the settlement. "It is done." Joyous cheers erupted from the people. Wise One turned away. He knew there would be three days of feasting to celebrate the passing of oroimentza from one generation to the next. As he strode away from the huts he could hear in his mind, *Now young man, for the next three days we have much to cover. Once you have become used to listening we will start on learning the manipulation of the healing arts . . . .* Wise One smiled faintly as he left for the prescribed three days of meditation. It was hard to grieve with that familiar voice resonating in his head. The last thing he saw as he continued into the darkness were the fires being lit, and the strange shadows cast upon the people around them. *. . . you must learn how stimulating the healing centers . . .* Quietly among the celebrating people, one young girl watched the darkness swallow Wise One up. Barely on the edge of puberty, the Seer commanded great respect from the elders of the tribe. She was a far-seer, the first one born into the people in several generations, and she frowned as she watched Wise One leave the settlement. She could not shake the apprehension that what she was witnessing was not a simple transference. She could see no clear vision, instead she saw a vast cloud blocking her sight of this future. The Seer knew this looming darkness, had dreamed of it since early childhood. Her slender frame shuddered as she felt a chill to her very soul. --------------------- Washington DC, 1995 The basketball game was in its final minutes and the noise from the fans almost drowned out the commentary. The man, watching it on the small black and white TV, gave the screen a disgusted look. A flash of motion had him turning his head quickly to the bank of security screens he was supposed to be monitoring. He watched for several moments without seeing anything amiss, then turned back to the game in time to see the Suns celebrating another win. He turned off the TV and leaned back in his chair. Kicking his feet up he settled in for a nap. A few hours later the fire alarm went off, waking him from a particularly good dream. Bleary eyes scanned the monitors and saw smoke creeping from under the big double doors down the hall. Walt had the presence of mind to hit the main alarm before he sprinted down the hall where the smoke originated. With shaking fingers, he inserted the electric key and pressed in his code. He cursed as a red light came on and the words _Access Denied_ flashed across the LCD panel. Steadying himself, he punched in the code again. The light turned green, _Access Granted_. He pushed the doors open, ran in and skidded to an abrupt stop. Flames were shooting up everywhere, consuming the floor, walls, and most of all, the precious wooden storage racks. It took him several seconds to realize that the shelves were empty. "Walt . . ." He felt a hand on his shoulder and started violently. He relaxed when he recognized the figure who had materialized behind him. "Oh, thank God it's you. Where are . . ." with a stunned look on his face Walt fell to the floor, instantly paralyzed. His body lay motionless as the figure turned and walked away. He was still in the same position, not hearing the approaching sirens, when the smoke and flames overcame him. --------------------- Idaho Wilderness, 1995 Kurt leaned against the mantelpiece watching the reflections of the fire flickering in the snifter of 100 year old brandy he held in one hand. Uninterested in the drink, he looked around at the room. The firelight and shadows played strange tricks with the mounted trophy heads on the walls of rough hewn timber. His eyes scanned the heads of mountain lions, bears, and wolves. Five other men sat in varying positions of repose on the sturdy furniture. He shuddered at the memory of the "other" trophy room, the one hidden underneath the lodge. He caught the eye of one of the other men. "Are we going to wait around all night for him to arrive?" "I am here," came a voice from the shadows at the far end of the room. "Are you so eager to begin?" the voice asked silkily. The man's fingers tightened around his drink as he repressed another shudder. The owner of the voice frightened him much more than any of the former carnivores in the room. He steadied himself and made an effort to keep his voice normal as he turned in the general direction of the speaker. "I just thought we were supposed to meet an hour ago." "I was delayed by some last minute business," the quiet intonations of the voice made it all the more menacing. "The last archive has been acquired and everything is now in place." "Do you really want to do it this way?" asked one of the men on the couch. "What if our people miss?" The man at the mantle finished the cognac in one gulp. "Don't question him, you know what he's like," he muttered under his breath. "They won't miss," came the impatient reply, "and you know if we don't take care of them first the whole plan will be in danger. Unless, of course, you have a better idea?" The man on the couch blanched and shook his head. "No, no, if you say that it 's important then of course we should take care of them first. I'm just saying it might not be that easy." Although Kurt still couldn't see the leader he could hear the smile in his voice. "Don't worry, I have the perfect plan and the perfect bait. I'm sure we all understand that if they're still alive they will try to disrupt our little game. No, if we are to accomplish our goals, those two must die." --------------------- Seattle, Washington, 1995 The woman stared at the bathroom mirror, not seeing the image of porcelain skin and green eyes that stared back. Absentmindedly, she patted down her burgundy hair, set in a short, stylish cut. She fussed a few more times with the specially tailored jacket, although she knew her shoulder holster was invisible. Mentally reviewing her plans, she took a deep breath and left the rest room. She stopped a moment to get her bearings, her eyes searching through the smoky haze, seeking and finding a lone figure at the bar. Taking another deep breath, she walked over and sat on a stool next to her target. Looking at the bartender she said, "Single malt please." The woman could sense the man's attention, could see him giving her the once over out of the corner of her eye and thought, Waiting until his eyes traveled all the way to her face, she turned her head and smiled. "See anything you like?" "Sorry, no offense meant. Let me buy your drink as an apology." He followed the statement with a grin designed to melt the heart. Her smile widened. "No offense taken, and thanks." She extended a hand in his direction. "My name is Carol." He clasped her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. "And I am Duncan MacLeod." She continued to smile at the unsuspecting Scotsman. --------------------- /Notes/ The usage of names among the Herrialdaketa followed a rigid structure. Even in casual conversations they generally referred to each other by title, such as Hunter, Tanner, Healer, or Seer. Despite this extremely formal custom, they did in fact have personal names. The "milk name" (or childhood name) was conferred upon them by the parents when they were born. Usually this name was left behind after the adulthood ceremony, where the person chose their "adult" name, although very good friends or lovers might use the "milk name" as a nickname in private. After the adulthood ceremony -- and their formal acceptance into the tribe -- a title was conferred upon the person as a sign of what function they served within the tribe. For instance, although anyone who was willing could participate in the weekly hunts, there was a band of men and women whose function was hunting daily for the tribe, thus the designation Ehitzari (hunter) for one of the hunters or Lehen Ehitzari (lead hunter) for the person who was in charge of the group. Two rare exceptions to this rule are the Seer and the artisan known as Song. The Seer was an exception in that she was gifted with a title as her milk name, it being known from her birth that she would be a Seer. In fact, she accepted no name or title other than Seer. Song, on the other hand, chose to retain her milk name as her adult name, and although a gifted potter never acknowledged a formal title. Once the Herrialdaketa became telepathic they learned to pass along their oroimentza (memories) from one generation to the next. Each family group had a Matriarch who received the memories of the women, and a Patriarch (not necessarily the Matriarch's mate) who received the memories of the men. These people were usually the oldest in the family. The exception to this custom was the memories of the leaders of the Healers and the ones who served the Mother. The head of the healers was known as Jakintsu Gizaki (Wise One), a title that passed down with the memories of the lead healer. The leader of those who served the Mother became known as Andre nor Ikusi (One Who Sees), again title and memories handed down among the group. Both of these titles were gender neutral, as were all positions in the tribe except one: the Seer. For some as yet unexplained genetic reason, all Seers born to the tribe were female. (To be continued) ----------------------- Well, there it is, the beginning of the story. All comments/questions/flames to me at liddiard@bs1.prc.com or GrinnyP@aol.com Carol Ann liddiard@bs1.prc.com GrinnyP@aol.com =========================================================================