Taranis and Boldolph: The Birth of a Chosen One

The Myth of Taranis and Boldolph.

The rest of us stepped back.

Father’s eyes had changed
flashing a pale shade of red.

Thunder cracked as he stepped into the cave. Ready to lay eyes on Mother and the newborn she had fought to bring into the world.

We stood behind him in silence,
all of us but one.

One brother, whose eyes held no joy.
Only fear.
Only the taste of blood.

“Thirteenth son of the thirteenth son,” he muttered.
“Born during a storm… and an eclipse.
Even the dragons have fallen silent.
And the wolves, they’ve stopped howling.”

Just then, as if the forest itself heard hima sound split the trees in two.

Boldolph.

His howl rose like thunder turned voice,
a cry so powerful the very air seemed to flinch.

At his side stood Morrigan,
his bonded mate white as new snow.
She gave a low, haunting cry
and pressed her head gently against his.

Then the dragon stirred.

It lifted its head,
wings stretching wide like a storm reborn.

And with a roar that lit the sky,
it rose.

Fire molten and blinding
erupted from its throat,
painting the clouds in gold and crimson.

And there, across the eclipsed heavens, the name appeared.

TARANIS.

Burning.
Brilliant.
Undeniable.

As if the stars,
the storm,
and the breath of the gods themselves
had spoken as one:

This child is no curse.
He is chosen.

© StormborneLore. All rights reserved.

Further Reading

The Prophecies and Tales of Taranis Unfolded