The Heavy Burden

Nevermore: Mimiru
Photography: Bri Turner
Copyright: all rights reserved
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Láa Ogus Oidhche

The King heaved a heavy sigh, one that lifted his shoulders and fell them heavily. It felt as though he had a great, repressing weight bearing down on him, keeping him from holding himself upright. The Dagda threw caution to the wind, hoping and praying to the Great Goddess that his people would rise from this next battle victorious. It was not a matter whether or not he, himself lived or died, for there were many more kings to take follow in his place.

A storm cloud slowly strolled overhead, and Nevermore closed his eyes and breathed deep, taking in fresh air into his lungs. It burned.
This was surely a dark omen of things to come. He would take it humbly and honourably as a sign of his inevitable death, his untimly departure from this world and into the Other; the Realm of Eternal.

"Tir-inna-nOc, 'ere ah come." His voice was gruff, hoarse as though he had not given it use for an extended period of time. Lately, his musings had been internal, the King keeping his concerns secret from his guard and squire, hoping to alleviate any sort of worry they may have for him. His life was forfeit now.
Despite his epiphany, the Dagda smirked, folding his massive arms across his chest. The smirk nearly split his face into two, the beastly markings on his face more seeming more alive than ever.



Copyright ©2011 Nevermore, Anthology of Faeries and all related materials belong to Aislinn Riley & Co. and is fully protected by copyright laws. Any distribution, reproduction, copy, print or download for the use of distributing for money, and receiving money from Nevermore, Anthology of Faeries or all related materials without permission is unlawful, and violators will be subject to prosecution and may face penalties up to the full extent of the law. Such penalties include monetary compensation for damages, injunction to prevent further use of materials, an additional payment of legal costs, and in severe cases jail. All rights reserved.


"He was a beautiful god of the heathens, for the Tuatha Dé Danann worshipped him: for he was an earth-god to them because of the greatness of his (magical) power." ~Coir Anmann


Biography


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*Nevermore: The Dagda and High King of the Tuatha Dé Danann
*Title Pronunciation: Dagodeiwos, Daghdha or Dagdia.

*Favorite Weapon: Rapier
*Weapon of Association: Magical Club that can kill 9 men in 1 swing
*Associated with: Cauldron that has a bottomless pit of food
*Associated Musical Instrument: Uaithne, a harp that puts the seasons in order

*Mother: Danu or Delbáeth
*Father: Elatha

*Children: Brigit, Aengus, Cermait, Bodb, Midir

Predecessor: Lug



Part of the invasion of Ireland, Nevermore's people, the Tuatha Dé Danann, took the lands from the Fir bolgs. The Dagda protected King Nuada Airgetlám during the first battle of Mag Tuired after losing his arm to Sreng. Eventually following the first High King, Nuada Airgetlám, Nevermore became High King of Ireland and the Tuatha Dé Danann. He was a good King, and revered for his great magical abilities. Although his kingship reputation is fabulous, his reputation for women is less than so. He is afflicted with the "Zeus Affect", and tends to womanize more than he should. Despite his antics, Nevermore is generally soft when it came to women, and took an oath to protect those worthy of his protection.

After successful invasions, the Tuatha Dé Danann inherited the Fomorians as enemies, who were demon-like in behaviors and appearances. Balor of the Evil Eye, eventually killed Nuada, leaving the Tuatha Dé Danann to elect a new High King, Lugh, who defeated Balor.

The Tuatha Dé Danann were succeeded by the Milesians, who forced the High Kings and Queens into the mounds of the land. They became the Sidhe, and those more powerful became Gods and Goddesses, worshiped by the new settlers.

After thousands of years, Nevermore became curious about humans, and decided that in order to take back his right as King, he would need to study these strange people and their cultures. Should they come to love them, they would come to worship him again. Although, Nevermore's true motives remain unclear, and his ever changing perspective on topics confuses anyone.

He first appeared in the "human plane" with a glamour based on a poem written by Edgar Allan Poe. With a love for poetry and music, the Dagda decided to take the form of something he found interesting. The first human he came into contact with debated with him on his name, telling her that his name was "Raven". When she refused to accept that as a name, he fessed up and demanded to be called "Nevermore", by quoting famous lines from the famous poem.

With feathers and leaves in his long, dark hair and golden eyes surrounded by a black swirl of markings that nearly ate his face, "Nevermore" appeared beastly, dark and terrifying to outsiders who first laid eyes on him.


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Overall, his personality reflects irresponsibility and childish antics, but he knows when enough is enough and does not take being tested. He demands respect even when he chases unsuspecting (or suspecting) girls or wails excitedly about Pixie Stixs.

Overall, he is in excellent control of his emotions, however certain topics tend to set him off. He does not take well to being bullied, though being teased sometimes is all fun and games. Things that tend to set him off the most are:

1). Being called an "elf"
2). Being threatened
3). Threatening his "stuff"
4). Touching his things without permission
5). Laughing AT him instead of WITH him



*Glamour:*

Nevermore's glamour tends to change, depending on his current court association or his mood.

A person may notice a change in his appearance. These changes may be anything from eye color (usually gold/yellow, red, green or hazel), hair length and cut, or the beastly mark on his face may become more or less prominent. There may also be a difference in his nails, as they can be various lengths depending on the situation or mood he is in.



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"No' only can ah turn meself inta ONE animal, bah ah can turn meself inta TEN!"

"Hey, sweetcheeks."

"Hey."

"Yah asked fer A name, not MAH name."

"Ah told yeh how ta get thar, baht ah din't tell yeh how ta get back."

"An' yer point?"

"AAHHHHHHH!!! Hold a moment...gotta get mah breather....AAAAHHHHH!!!"

"So...how 'bout we go tha' wey an' git a lit'le hot?"

"Well, if it ain't Twinkle Toes? How yeh doin' Frosty? Cause any blizzards lateleh?"

"Ahm not an elf."

"Whassat?"

"Neva troost a Faerie."

"Soocha simpleton, aren'cha?"

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`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

~Edgar Allan Poe
The Raven