Caraig of Gáláwá

"We are all but witnesses of the unseen world of imagination" said Caraig with a smirk. He acted smug, but Scáthach noticed the fidgety nervousness in the way he covered the stone ring. In vain... The gaze of the eye pattern was piercing through his palm, dark and unsettling. "The least a skald can do is to grab a quill and freeze this moment in words to survive the time; unyielding, unchanged, forever."

It was how everyone described him back then, before... "Unyielding, unchanged, forever...", she recalled the fade memories of Hithéan way before he went missing; the shades of images and sounds were easily slipping away. "How long has it been since you disappeared?" she tried to pull that memory up to the surface, but could only see a fade glance beneath it. Days?... Weeks?... Maybe months?... She couldn't tell.

Summary

Caraig was a close friend to Hithéan of Gáláwá. They knew each other for a very long time and ventured to the mountains when they were young. After Hithéan's disappearance Caraig lost all memories connected to Hithéan as did everyone in Sáveni. He has a faint recollection of a silly boy, though — one who went to see the lake in the middle of the night. Caraig possesses a magical stone ring with a pattern of an eye, made from a crystal sphere he found near the Gáláwá Lake, one he dreamt about some nights before. He saw something shiny, reflecting the sun but cold as if being a moonlight. And the stone ring did it — it turned his life around.

---

A stroll. The full dream was about a stroll up the mountain path. Although he was going up and up and near the sky, he felt as if he were descending deeper and deeper into the abyss, fighting a pitch black current. A trout fighting the black stream of night, trying to push him away from the end of his journey — the black eye in the night sky. The closer he was to the top, the more he realized what it was that urged him to get there. He saw a light. A bright light of a sphere-shaped crystal, atop a small cliff on the other side of the night-black lake. The last time he saw the dream was when he was reaching for it. But as he was about to touch the cold surface, he awoke frightened, realizing he was holding his breath, hand reaching toward the ceiling.

A recurring dream

Caraig wasn't always a skald. He was said to enjoy a song or two, but it was his friends and colleagues that created new concepts and trained in the art of Weaving . It was always someone else that gained renown. Until the end of the last day of the Gathering, when he started having a dream — faint at first but unfolding and, night by night, becoming more vivid. The dream repeated itself three more times. Four was a lucky number and Caraig took it for a sign from the Ædean realm to find the place in the material world. He recognized some of the paths from the dream, so it was not a problem. More than that, he was fairly certain that the Lake was the Gáláwá Lake, the very same he used to play near when he was a child.

The place was cold that time of year and it was different than he remembered it — less grim and intriguing, more dull and grayish. He noted the cliff from his dream. The real one was more difficult to approach but he managed to climb it with some effort. He didn't remember it to be an entrance to the cave. On the ridge closer to the lake lay a round object. It was milky white specled with dark brown crust of clay and some small stones on one side. But on the other side... The pattern was beautiful, similar to some of the agate geodes the local craftsman had shown him. The one he held had a small dark interior with a cream-white ring around it. He felt an urge to shape it. And he felt, that everything would make more sense from then onwards.

"Strange," he thought, "he could swear the center was sky-like blue. Then it stroke him — when held at a specific angle, the ring became blue, almost like an opal, but more vivid, very unlike the minerals he often saw. The interior was as black as soot and it looked... It looked like it was trying to force a thought onto him. "A shape," he thought. "This should have a ring shape." A gut feeling, a vivid picture and this feeling of knowing something for certain. "So this is what it feels like to be a true skald." Holding the object made him feel certain things, and see something new... something complex but as fragile as a mist-spun image an eye blink before the gust of wind torn it to pieces.

Stone ring of Caraig of Gáláwá by Angantyr

Seeing the unseen

Once the ring was prepared, Caraig was seen wearing it from time to time and pretty smug at it. Publicly two occassions were of note, were he would wear it, the first being the preparations of a new song. The second occassion was when performing one of the songs — The Joys of Life. The truth was that whenever on, the object would make him feel burdened with the weight and intensity of many of the new feelings and sights. Later on he would interpret them as things seen from many perspectives and figure out a story to bind them into a more poetic form. What tied all of the stories together was the dark theme, as the sights carried very grim emotions.

By many, Caraig is thought of as the guardian of the Gáláwá Lake tabu, which states: "Watch out for yourself and think twice before venturing near the Lake since it is the Lair of the Great Ithrós." Many of those people are old folk remembering the flooding that formed the Gáláwá Lake Caves causing the nearby fields to rot and transform into bogs. Many thought that to be an ominous sign of the Ithrós claiming the Topaz Cavern under his ruling and most of the villagers would not contest the rule of the Lord of Winter. Those who did, have never returned. And so, after many years and lives lost to a foolish cause the songs that Caraig writes are the most welcome.

"The first days were a nightmare. It was like pushing through a thick crowd but worse. Everyone shouting their stuff out with me shifting perspective from one person to another. My mind was all over the place." Caraig sighed and swirled the dark mulled wine in the mug.

Scáthach watched him closely. The Caraig she knew from a few months back was a happy-go-lucky chap. What could possibly have happened that so swiftly changed his personality and attitude?

"Anyway," he added abruptly after a short pause. "I figured out that I can take on different perspectives — immerse myself into a single mind or just fly over everything to see the big picture. But the best part is, all that grim, dreary and soul wearying emotional background disappears with the ring off of the finger. The memories remain, though, and every time I start writing my heart's racing with joy and excitement." He stopped and raised his pointing finger while taking a deep gulp. Talkative as always, aren't we, Cari? A curious thought ran through her mind. "So, long story short, I now wear it on rare occassions such as this one and only when I have already seen the visions so many times, they don't bother me anymore." A wrinkled hand grasped Caraig's shoulder firmly. He turned around to find an old man, not less than in his mid-eighties, slim but firm. Before the skald could say anything he placed a full jug on the table they sat at. "Thank you", a deep gratitude resonating with skald's vanity. Caraig smiled. He liked his new life.

Famous pieces

The joys of life

One of the most famous pieces tells a story of sibling blindies, who are approached by Ithrós of Depth. The Lord of Winter shares a secret that would enable one of them to take the human form and enjoy sensations (such as seeing colours, smell fragrant flowers) but they would need to cooperate with each other. They — forever plunged in the darkness of the lake agree to try, tempted with things unattainable to them — the ability to see and walk. While one of them comes above the surface in the human form, the other is lost in the darkness, not even the memories of him remaining.

Form-wise, the ominous story is reinforced by the jolly melody of the song. The song gets a good reception in the Gáláwá village and has joined the repertoir of many skalds in the region. This is ascribed to the fact that many villagers unformally forbid their children to go near the Gáláwá Lake and the caves — a tabu that is often broken by the young ones. As such Caraig's songs serve as a way to instill fear of the Lake and make people wary of the problem. The lad possesses a distinct tallent to convey the songs as if they were real events, with real people involved in them and real lives being lost. Thus, he is feared by the children but revered by the older villagers.

Song of two joys

High up in the mountains down deep in the night
There swam two blind catfish dressed up in the light.
So joyful and playful their hearts on the rise,
So brightly the moon danced in their hollow eyes.
[Chorus]
La di ta dalla, la ta dilla da,
So brightly the moon danced in their hollow eyes.
To one noble Ithrós, some wisdom has shown:
„There are problems that you cannot solve on your own.”
You could gain a body with a soul, and the sight
It is within reach of your thought and your might.
[Chorus]
La di ta dalla, la ta dilla da,
It is within reach of your thought and your might.
„There’s a path to the darkness. Should one of you dive
The other’ll emerge as a human, alive.
To stride on the surface, see all sunlit sights,
Learn the fragrance of flowers, see colourful lights.”
[Chorus]
La di ta dalla, la ta dilla da,
Learn the fragrance of flowers, see colourful lights.
So joyful and playful, she swam through the night
So carefree and careless, devoid of the fright.
She found her dear brother; the secret was shared
One that was too bold, one not to be dared.
[Chorus]
La di ta dalla, la ta dilla da,
One that was too bold, one not to be dared.
So joyful and playful, her brother was bold,
More cheerful than laughter, more worth than the gold.
„Oh sister, my sister, I’ll give you a hand
So you may see wonders and run on the land.”
[Chorus]
La di ta dalla, la ta dilla da,
So you may see wonders and run on the land.
Oh, brother, my brother, my joy and my light,
I shall miss our dances deep within the night.
While walking the surface, when that wish comes true,
I’ll tend to those memories, remembering you.
[Chorus]
La di ta dalla, la ta dilla da,
I’ll tend to those memories, remembering you.
And thus they have chosen, one — Depth, other — land.
And sister beloved could now see and stand.
With eyes now wide open, bright memory threads
Have turned bleak and mist-like, all torn into shreds.
[Chorus]
La di ta dalla, la ta dilla da,
Have turned bleak and mist-like, all torn into shreds.
Oh, brother, her brother a light that once shone,
Now drowned in the darkness, forgotten and gone.
And thus hateful Ithrós some wisdom has shown:
„There are ways that you cannot hurt others alone.”
[Chorus]
La di ta dalla, la ta dilla da,
„There are ways that you cannot hurt others alone.”

The songs of Hithy

Tha song of Hithy and Hetha and Silly Hithy - a folk song tell a story of a boy named Hithy, who disobeys the rule of not going near the Gáláwá Lake and the flooded Topaz Cavern, nicknamed Ithrós Halls in the song. Depending on the version of the story he either goes with Hetha or alone, then drowns in the Lake. The primary cause of how he ends up in the water is not revealed. The tone, however, suggests that it was due to a fall while climbing or other act of clumsiness in a place where caution should be addressed. That song was created some two months after the ring had been prepared.

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"You use tools when they're needed." Caraig answered with a shrug, his eyes more rested than they were the other day. "And I intend to use them just enough to get me past that magical threshold of a better new life. And I like my current new life, Scát," he added taking a deep sip from his cup.

"Caraig... Hithéan vanished only weeks ago. The very least you could do is show some care and look for him?" The disinterest he showed was infuriating. This was his childhood friend, of whom she had to listen to many boring stories?

"Who's Hithéan?" His voice was bland with only a tinge of interest. She couldn't see any emotions surfacing, save for the strange type of reluctance.

"I don't have time for games, Cari." She didn't want to snap at him. Caraig was one of the closest people to him, at least in Gáláwá. And it was here that the trail was broken.

"Whatever, Scát," he shrugged. "We all change and I don't care about games anymore." He was looking up towards the Gáláwá Mountains. Though he held his head high, she felt his surfacing emotions — the numbing fall towards something deep and endless. "Tools are useful." He added after a pause, shifting the subject. "They help you stand above the mediocrity. In fact, I need to watch myself not to make to big of a career. There is nothing worse for a landscape than a lonely mountain. Hills are necessary, and valleys and ditches too. We all have our role to play and I need to see to those plans of greatness." He played with the Ring between his fingers, smiling stupidly.

"He didn't change, not a bit." She thought. "And yet he is a completely different person."