Done skia.
Known as the Castle of Shadows because only those who are meant to see it are able to.
One cannot seek it willingly of one's own accord.
And if you found yourself cowering in a cave by the sea,
Cold and bereft and alone,
You might only see a simple ruin above you on that cliffside.
For many eyes would just see the rubble,
The stone clusters here and there,
The remnants of something not so important or interesting.
But,
Perhaps,
If you are brave,
And you have shown your courage in ways of your own,
And you find yourself at this desolate spot on the Isle of Skye,
Wind whipped and having made a dangerous journey to get there,
Well perhaps you might be able to see that castle of shadows in all its glory.
The ballasts,
The ramparts,
The tall towers,
So much higher than a ruin of rock,
Along the cliffside.
Tall,
With three soaring floors.
The bottom level where the dining hall is,
The second where the small,
Narrow rooms for each initiate are,
And the third where the training takes place.
Four towers surrounding it,
And each open to the sky above.
And if you can,
Find this place of shadows while you will need to cross the plane of ill luck to reach it.
A desolate marsh,
An open,
Boggy plain next to the sea that is treacherous to traverse.
If those not meant to cross it try,
Well,
Their feet will stick fast and draw them down into it slowly.
And if by some miracle you are able to pass further into it,
It is said that the grasp would rise and each blade would be sharper than the tip of a spear and would hold you fast on its point.
But if If,
By some miracle,
You were able to make it across this plain,
You would be met with the Bridge of Leaps,
The drawbridge to the castle that would throw back anyone attempting to cross it.
And perhaps,
By some miracle or by the summing of Skiag herself that offers you safe entry into those castle walls,
If you listen carefully,
You might be able to hear the clink,
Clank of sword on sword.
Nothing else but this and the sound of footsteps shuffling forward and then back,
And then heavier breathing.
The clink,
Clank,
Slowing,
Breath becoming laborious,
Grunts and groans of exasperation and fatigue as these students tire from a long day of training in combat.
And then perhaps you'll hear the sounds of those swords being sheathed The retreat of footsteps down to the dining hall.
The clatter of spoons in bowls as they finish their evening meal and head quickly to their rooms for focused training.
Meditation.
The concentration of the mind that is achieved by staring directly at a flame for hours upon end,
Clearing the mind,
Polishing the glass of the inner eye for insight and for wisdom.
For this is the real power of these warriors in training.
The cultivation of the gift of the second sight over days and nights under Skiak's tutelage.
For it is this,
This intuition,
This ability to see the future and read the thoughts of their enemies,
That these warriors leave Dan Skiak with the power of.
And it is for this reason that they cannot be defeated in battle.
Mental focus,
Physical strength,
And second sight.
These are the three pillars of their study.
This is how they spend their days and this is why they flock from far off lands to study here.
From the four corners of the world they come,
These women to hone,
To craft,
To polish these skills so that when it is time,
They will leave and go back to their lands and become the strongest and most brave warriors to ever be known,
Or often not,
In the history and the lore.
They will take on warrior apprentices of their own that they too will train.
And these many women warriors,
This sisterhood of warriors,
They will stay connected by the invisible threads of Skiah's web.
For even though they are no longer together in physical form,
They are able to gather and support each other energetically in their minds as long as they keep practicing the polishing of the glass of their inner eye for insight and for wisdom.
For the web is strong,
And it ties them to each other.
With Dunsgeach and the Warrior Queen,
The mother of it all,
At its center.
Skia,
Who has seen so much,
Who has fought many a battle of her own and wielded her strength and great courage in combat in the most treacherous of conditions.
She has proven herself over and over to herself and to the kings and warriors that she has vanquished time and time again in battle.
And now she teaches others how to do the same.
For she found her way here much like those young initiates did.
Alone,
Lost,
With no one guiding her.
She had left her home at a young age and traveled across land and sea,
Being pulled westward.
As a youth,
She was an unusual one,
Wild and untamed,
Roaming the lands,
Fighting the demons she found as someone who never really feels like they belong.
The demons that come when you feel alone and unprotected in the world and the only choice you have is to strike out alone because,
Well.
.
.
No one has done what you have done.
No one has ever been who you have been.
And so the young Skiath roamed the land,
Searching and seeking and honing this inner strength of her own,
This fearlessness that comes when facing the demons.
And as she traveled,
She had to fight,
And she had to teach herself how to protect herself on these open and wild roads.
She was tired of scurrying from village to village by cover of darkness.
She was tired of being afraid.
So she began to train herself and build her strength as she went.
And she knew that she would need to ask for guidance from those unseen spirits of the warriors of myths and songs she had heard of,
And that they would answer her call.
And so they came to her and they taught her everything they knew,
Slowly,
Patiently.
And being of great discipline and mental strength,
She practiced and practiced,
Hour after hour.
She trained her mind,
Her body,
And her inner eye to see what cannot be seen by others,
Past,
Present,
Future.
She was being guided by forces beyond her,
And so she was no longer alone.
And the great wisdom began to flow through her.
And so her apprenticeship with courage,
And with these great guides and sages of ages past,
Lasted seven years and seven months until she found her way to the Isle of Skye.
On the west coast of what is today Scotland,
Tuticorin,
A desolate peninsula overlooking sharp,
Scraggly hills,
Stones covered in seabirds flocking.
And a landscape so cold and rugged,
It evoked those demons she had been fighting but did not want to forget.
To the castle of Dunsciach.
A modest castle from the outset,
Built overlooking the ocean.
A desolate,
Barren place,
But a place she could build a tribe.
A place where she could train others in the way ways of the warrior and battle the forces of darkness that sometimes veiled this strange land and could not be shaken.
She would start a school and send out a beacon to those souls called to courage and to strength.
And her school would be based around three pillars.
Mental focus,
Physical strength,
And the power of second sight.
With these three pillars,
She would train warriors that would be unmatched.
And her reputation would spread far and wide so that only the best and the bravest,
Only those with the most potential would be sent to her.
And this is how it was.
These initiates came to her brave and resilient,
But they were often innocent and naive to the ways of the world.
And so,
Through rigorous training,
Would work with her.
She would teach them everything she knew,
An entire repertoire of the greatest warrior feats gathered from the greatest warriors of the past,
Present,
And future.
There was the apple feet,
The thunder feet,
The blade feet,
The wind feet,
The spear feet,
The rope feet,
The body feet,
The cat's feet,
The salmon feet,
The feet of a chariot chief,
The throw of the staff,
The jump over,
The whirl of a brave chariot chief,
The spear of the bellows,
The wheel feet,
The wood feet,
The breath feet,
The hero's whoop,
The blow,
And the counter blow,
The running up of a lance and riding the body on its point,
Just to name a few of them.
And along with this physical training,
The mental training,
The intuitive training,
The three pillars of her school for warriors.
And so they would train until they were ready to return either back to the land that they had come from or to forge ahead onto new lands,
Fearless and brave,
Spreading the teachings of Skiah and showing those men who thought themselves warriors that they still had much to learn.
Men and women had fought alongside each other in these lands before,
But now the women were leading the battles and the men were listening.
For a man in battle might be strong,
He might be fierce,
But he can be a brute.
And sheer aggression and power do not win out over foresight,
Mental clarity,
And physical strength combined.
So it was that the word of Skiax School for Warriors spread across the lands and became known as a place where only the most capable,
The most willing of potential warriors would be admitted for training,
Where only the most disciplined and focused and strong could make it through the program successfully.
And this is how one of the greatest and most legendary warriors of his time found his way to Skiax to be trained,
And honed by her.
For this man was strong,
But he was a brute.
He was young and full of rage and anger and violence.
He had not learned to hone these things into the pointed spear that is precision,
The strength of the mind.
And he certainly wasn't able to read the thoughts of his enemies or see into the future.
His name was Cúchulainn of Ulster.
And so to Skeagh he came,
Young,
Arrogant,
Strong,
And of course,
Unable to find a way to enter her castle,
Try as he might.
Because he was there out of duty.
There because he'd been told by the father of the woman that he was trying to woo that he could only have the hand of his daughter if he went through the most rigorous training in all the lands of sea and sky that existed.
Skiak's infamous school for heroes.
Believing that this boy would never survive the ordeal and then he could just marry his daughter to someone he actually approved of.
But of course,
Cú Chulainn agreed to the challenge.
So much did he want to marry this woman and prove his father-in-law wrong.
And so he set off to the school over the land and the sea to find it.
Approaching from the west over the water,
He could see it through the shadows rising tall from the sea,
But its walls seemed impenetrable.
First,
He had to pass across the Plain of Ill Luck,
And he did so with the help of a young boy who helped him navigate his way.
And then to the Bridge of Leaps,
Impossible to cross unless one exhibited great strength and bravery.
Cahoolan tried three times to cross it,
Crossed this bridge,
And he could not do it.
And a crowd of initiates began to form on the castle walls,
Looking down upon him.
Those watching jeered at him,
Which brought upon him such a fury,
Hot-headed youth that he was.
More and more angry and steaming he became as he tried and tried and tried.
For this was an enchanted bridge that could buckle and sway and throw you violently from and onto the shards of the rocks below.
But Cahulan had a skill the bridge had not yet encountered before,
And it was called the Hero's Salmon Leap.
Which,
Gathering all his strength,
He finally made soaring so that he got onto its midst.
And the other head of the bridge had not yet fully raised itself when he reached it,
And he threw himself from it and scrabbled at the rock,
Picking himself up and into the castle itself.
The initiates were silent in awe as they saw this,
And from their ranks came Skia,
Rather impressed by the courage and skill of this youth.
Training him would be a challenge,
Arrogant and thinking he knew it all already,
But she would take him in,
As she did anyone who had faced the perils and made it to her.
And she had a plan for him,
For she had also seen the future.
She knew that this warrior had great feats ahead of him to accomplish,
But that it was only with her training that he would succeed,
And she could also use him for her own means if she trained him well.
So she took him on as one of her initiates,
And he quickly saw how much he still had to learn,
How little he actually knew of the skills of the true warrior,
And how much this wise and powerful woman could teach him.
And after a year and a day of learning and mastering the warrior arts,
The three pillars of mental strength,
Physical power,
And second sight.
None but her could best him.
He was the strongest and most powerful warrior she had trained.
But his focus and discipline were sometimes lacking,
And he had yet to master the ways of his heart,
For he did easily fall in love and was swayed by the other initiates,
Including her own daughter.
And so she set out for him one final task for him to succeed in before he was ready to return to Ulster and fulfill the prophecy set out for him.
And this was to master his willpower by overcoming his desires.
For to control and hone this,
Some might say,
Is the hardest task and requires an inner strength so much more difficult to control than any other.
And Skiah,
While she was powerful,
And beautiful,
And an enchantress in her own right.
And so she set the task before him.
I will try to seduce you,
But you must not give in,
Whatever I do.
This is your final task,
And if you pass this,
You will go on to be the best warrior of your time known into the future for your bravery and skill in battle.
I will reveal your prophecy to you,
And you shall fulfill it easily.
But if you do not manage to control your desires and deny me this night,
You will continue your training and there will be more challenges set out for you,
Harder and more difficult than I have ever given any of my students.
You may not succeed in them and you may be met with death.
Will you meet this challenge?
Of course,
He agreed.
He had been training his mind.
He had been honing the powers of his body.
He had the mental strength cultivated over many nights and days of meditation and focus.
He wasn't that young boy that had entered the castle a year and a day ago.
But there was still a bit of arrogance to him.
And he thought the challenge would be easy,
Much easier than the others that she had set out for him.
But,
Seduce him,
Skiah did.
Quite easily with her wiles and ways and charms and sweet whisperings.
Cú Chulainn could not withstand her and was seduced by her that night,
Failing the task outright,
Giving in so very easily.
Siach was not surprised.
She had foreseen this happening and she had enjoyed the seduction with a delicious cunning she did not even know was in her.
She had spent so much time around women that the power that came in seducing this young and potent man was like drinking deep from a draught of sweet mead and feeling the sweetness of its headiness,
Its soft drowsiness,
And surrendering to it.
A woman like her,
Of fierceness and angles and strength and subtle powers,
This queen,
This warrior,
And to soften from his touch and feel the pull of the divine communion between the masculine and feminine energies that make up and balance this world.
This was something she had not expected.
And so,
As his training continued,
So did their lovemaking.
And they both learned much from each other in this way.
And their powers also grew in this union.
While this was taking place in the shadows,
The power of Skyak's sister in the east had been growing,
And the warrior queen Ifa was raising an army to take on her sister and finally vanquish her once and for all.
For there was a geish that had bound them since birth,
And that was that Skyak would never defeat her sister in battle.
And so,
As the armies were raised,
Skyak told Cthulhu of this,
And he agreed to be her champion in the battle.
And to save both their armies,
It was agreed that Cahulan and Aoife would meet in single combat.
And so they met at dawn.
Aoife,
The fierce warrior queen of the lands of the West,
And Cúchulainn of Ulster,
With muscles of steel and a mind that had been shaped and carved into sharpness and precision by her sister.
And on the field of battle,
Aoife stood before him,
Tall and striking and commanding.
And there they fought.
Aoife,
Not only strong and quick,
But also a seer and prophetess,
Able to enchant and seduce.
They played against each other,
And Cahulan could not match her.
Try as he might.
His spear was shattered,
His sword broken at the hilt,
His shield split in two by her.
But in a moment of revelation and cunning,
He cried out to trick her because he had asked her sister before what she had cared for most in the world and knew exactly where her weakness lied.
Is that your chariot and horse about to ride off the cliff?
And when Aoife turned to look towards where he motioned without thinking,
He took a hold of her and swung her over his great shoulders,
Carrying her down,
Kicking and screaming to the camp of Skiaxpilo.
He laid her on the ground,
Holding a sword to her breast.
Her head held high.
Not releasing K'Khulen from her powerful gaze,
She asked for her life in exchange for making peace with her sister.
And so it was that peace was found between them.
And Hulun was ready to leave these lands and fulfill the prophecy before him.
As her final gift to him,
Skiach gave him her Gai Bolg,
The spear she had fought with since her youth,
Which had been carved from the bones of a sea monster and which would kill any man or woman it entered in an explosion of pain and torture.
And it was at this moment that she also chose to reveal his prophecy to him.
In a deep and ominous voice,
She spoke to him these words of his destiny,
The prophecy of the cattle raid of Kulid that would be remembered for years to come,
Of how great extremity awaited him alone against the vast herd,
Of how warriors would be set aside against him and he would break necks,
How his sword would strike strokes to the rear against his gory stream,
Hard-bladed,
Cutting and conjuring the trees by the signs of slaughter by manly feats.
And how cows would be carried off from his hill and captives would be forfeited.
How he would be alone in great hardship against the host,
With scarlet gushes of blood striking upon many variously cloven shields.
How from his red-pronged weapon there will be defeat.
Men pierced against the furious wave,
Against the whale equipped for exploitation.
A whale performing feats with blows.
How women will wail and tear their clothes,
Mave and allele boasting of it,
And most importantly how no deathbed awaited him after slaughters of great ferocity.
And so she spoke,
And so it became.
And off he went to fulfill it.
But what remained of Skiakh?
She continued to train both men and women worthy in her school of warriors.
She remained the queen of those lands,
All-powerful and all-knowing.
But then.
.
.
Into the shadows she began to slip as the world began to change around her.
As women fell into the thralls of the men around them,
Not believing they were just as worthy as warriors,
Not believing they could match them in strength,
As if that was what won battles.
And so the stories of those that she trained began to be lost into the annals of time.
Women began to forget their power and their fortitude,
Their unique gifts of intuition and leadership and strength,
Their existence as warriors and fighters alongside men.
And the stories,
They were rewritten.
Sometimes erased.
We can still hear often of the tales of the mighty Qhulun,
But Skiakh?
She has re-entered the shadows.
And perhaps with change in the air,
She is simply awaiting remembrance.
Awaiting those young girls and women to remember their strength and resilience and ask her to guide them.
To find her in the shadows and begin their own initiation with her as she began hers so many centuries ago.
And if so,
Might you answer her call?
And now let us enter into meditation.
Let's begin by getting comfortable.
And finding a seated position or lying down.
Or just finding a place where you won't be disturbed for the next 15 minutes or so.
If you'd like to pause the episode while you get more cozy,
Please feel free to do so.
And if there's something you can do to make yourself even 10% more comfortable,
Whether it's wiggling around or moving into the perfect position or relaxing your jaw.
Pulling your shoulders down from your ears,
Relaxing the furrows of your brow.
Just slowly come back into the body and back into the breath.
Noticing any sensations in the body any tension you might be holding.
And gently moving the breath.
Into those spaces.
With each breath.
Just allowing your body to relax further into the surface beneath you.
Letting the sounds around you and the busyness of the day,
Any thoughts just slip away into the quiet of your internal landscape.
Breathing in.
Breathing out.
And as you begin to soften.
You find yourself in a clearing.
Surrounded by ancient stones.
That are in a great circle around you.
It is dusk.
The light is soft.
Orange.
Turning to lavender in the sky.
And you're sitting with your back against one of these great stones.
Huge and towering over you.
The rocks surrounding you.
Some of them balancing other larger stones across them.
And you feel a pulse of ancient energy coming from them.
Otherwise,
The land around you is quiet.
You notice the stone that you are sitting against.
And you lean into it.
Feeling the roughness,
The coolness of the stone supporting you.
You begin to feel.
A gentle surge of.
Something like electricity.
Or ancient energy in this stone.
Feeling it in your back.
And into your heart space.
Feeling it supporting you.
And holding you here.
You could be in any time or place,
But it feels like you've been transported back into a time when these stones would have held a sacred power.
Perhaps a time when they would have been used for ceremonial or sacred purposes.
You feel the roughness of the stone behind you.
And the softness of the earth beneath you.
You feel the steadiness.
Of the stone.
And the groundedness of your body as it sits on the earth.
Breathing in deeply.
It's almost as if the stone behind you is breathing along with you.
And with each breath.
Feeling its healing power begin to move through you.
Calming you.
In bringing you into this present moment.
With this great and majestic stone circle around you.
You notice the light has begun to dim.
And you begin to move into the center of the space.
To the center of this great and ancient stone circle.
And in the center,
You see an altar that is covered in important objects.
One of these is a chalice cup,
Gold and shining,
Sitting there in the dying light,
Empty.
And you have a sense that there's a ceremony that's about to happen.
For around you there's also bowers of branches of cedar and birch that have been placed around the stones,
Flowers and woven colorful fabrics,
And there are lanterns placed around the stones ready to be lit.
You notice that you yourself are wearing a cloak of crimson and gold around your shoulders,
And you feel a sense of anticipation waiting for what will come.
And as the sun goes down.
.
.
You notice the shadows that are cast on the ground by these giant stones.
The air is heavy with anticipation.
And as you stand in the center of these stones in silence,
You begin to feel the energy of them around you almost magnified in the center of your body.
Pulling in their ancient strength within you.
You stand taller.
Your head high.
Your feet placed firmly on the ground beneath you.
Unafraid.
And then.
.
.
From the shadows.
You begin to see the form of many women coming towards you from a distance in a procession of lanterns.
Lanterns that they're holding above them.
And they quietly walk around the circle.
Lighting the lanterns as they go.
Until the whole circle is aglow with the light from them.
And these women,
They're humming gently.
And you feel the resonance of their sound all around you and in the earth beneath you,
As if it's coming from the very earth that you are standing on and from the rocks in its reverberation.
There's so many women standing around you,
Smiling.
Some of them that you recognize,
Some that you don't.
Some of them are old and some of them are young.
And they begin to take their positions around the circle and around you standing in the center.
And you realize that this is your ceremony.
That they're here to honor you and to perform this ritual with you.
In front of you,
Standing by the tallest of the stones,
There's a tall woman.
Who has an air of nobility.
Strength around her.
She steps forward.
And she walks towards you and she puts her hands on your shoulders.
She looks deeply into your eyes.
She looks at you as an equal.
And as you feel the touch of her hands,
You feel the power rising within you even more.
As if her hands on your shoulders are conjuring the feeling of armor being placed upon you.
A breastplate,
A helmet,
Protection and power.
And then she begins to fill the cup with a liquid.
And she passes this golden cup to you for you to drink.
And as you do.
You taste a warm sweetness.
And you feel a surge of strength within you.
An energy moving through your body that you have never felt before.
And then each woman steps forward one at a time.
Taking their turn to fill this cup from a great golden pitcher and passing it to you to drink from.
As each sip gives you more strength and more power.
As each taste of it fills your body with this fearlessness and lightness and strength that you have never known.
And each woman as they hand the cup to you.
They whisper blessings and prayers.
So that a whole web of these prayers and wishes is woven around you,
Like a veil of protection.
And then when each woman has taken their turn.
The tall woman in the center steps again towards you.
And in her hands,
She is holding a spear.
And a shield.
Glowing in the light of the lanterns.
You see the burnished gold and the engravings of the shield's swirls and circles,
The beauty of the spear and its embellishments.
The woman steps towards you and hands you the spear and the shield.
Bowing down to you as she does.
And the women around you in this circle,
They all begin to beat on their chests and chant.
Some of them begin to play drums,
And the song gets louder as you feel their strength behind you.
As you feel the ceremony and your initiation is about to come to completion.
As the sound builds and builds and the women form a procession behind you,
You know that it is time.
For you to walk out of the protection of the stone circle.
Out of that surge of power that comes from the earth.
Out of the circle of light coming from the lanterns.
Knowing that that energy is still within you.
And it can be heard in the sound of the drums.
It can be heard in the chanting of the women around you as you walk into the darkness.
Shield and spear in hand.
Head held high,
Power and energy and force within you.
Surging in your body,
You feel its strength.
You feel your courage as you enter the darkness,
Unafraid,
Undaunted.
Powerful.
And whole in the remembrance of your strength.
And its activation in this stone circle and the support of all these women and the ancient power of these stones behind you.
