Iaoch By Pandora North Star
Angel sat down on the bed and opened a draw. Out from it he withdrew a small charm. It was tarnished from a fire long ago but he knew what it was. He rolled it around in his palm. He thought about the woman he had just saved. He reminded him of another woman, so long ago forgotten. A woman from his childhood that he had blocked out of his mind.
Liam ran down the path and skipped in front of his grandmother. The woman smiled at her grandson. She was a pixie of a woman with smiling eyes, the same rich brown as the youth's. She had long silver hair and slightly pointed ears. He raced back and tugged on the woman's hand.
"Come on then." He laughed prodding her forward.
"All in good time my child." She settled into a graceful stride that was barely inhibited by her long dress. Behind them, now in the distance was their cottage. It lay on the outskirts of Galway county, Ireland. The countryside was lush and green in the early spring. "Now what are you going to be looking for?"
"Rosehips and coltsfoot and what was that last one?"
"Chamomile." They walked a little longer, the child like a sprite darting about and climbing over everything.
"Tell me the story again Grandmother? The one about the Wee Folk."
"Not right now. We're here." She left the path and began wading through the meadow. The large basket on her arm filled up fast with various plants.
The child helped a little but was more interested in the butterflies and other creatures that were in abundance. He ran back and forth under the bright sun. The lady took a break and sat by a stream that ran through the meadow. The child came over panting and sat down. He looked at her expectantly.
The woman turned her gaze to the water and squinted her eyes. She was no ordinary woman though. She was from the old generation. She was a witch of sorts. She prayed to the old gods and had clairvoyant moments sometimes. She helped the doctor out in the town and gave him advice. Frequently her grandson accompanied her as she went to collect various herbs and plants for her medicines.
"What are you looking at?" The boy's big brown eyes shined with interest. He watched the water and shook his head, seeing nothing.
"Hush my luachmhar." The water seemed to change but it showed something only she could see. The perfect day had suddenly picked up a chilly breeze but that was it. The woman looked at the child at last, over her basket. She regarded him with a puckered expression. Her eyes roved over the young lad. He sat up a bit straighter and looked back at her.
"Grandmother?"
"Iaoch." the boy searched his vocabulary. He didn't understand.
"So he is to be the iaoch." the woman said to herself. "Marbh fulaing." The boy knew what that first word was.
"I'm to die? Grandmother?" He grabbed at her skirt.
"Not for a long time." she assured him. But her eyes held a sadness.
"What is it?"
"You are to be the iaoch. And though you may not know what that is now, someday you will. Child you have a long road ahead of you. But you are to be known throughout the world. You are to be of great importance. But it will only mean something if you remember to try and follow your heart."
She leaned over and undid a necklace from around her neck. It was a Claddagh with a ruby heart held in the hands. She put it in his hands and clamped his fingers around it. "Keep this always."
"Yes Grandmother." He put it in his pocket. She looked back at the stream for a moment. The breeze reappeared making the little boy shiver. Then she stood up with the basket on one arm and the child holding her other hand.
Angel nodded to himself. The story had come back to him from over 200 years before. How could he have forgotten? His grandmother, the witch had foreseen his destiny. It was mapped out in the stars. So be it then. Taking the charm he slipped it on the filigree chain around his neck.
"I am the warrior." He whispered to himself.
Angel sat down on the bed and opened a draw. Out from it he withdrew a small charm. It was tarnished from a fire long ago but he knew what it was. He rolled it around in his palm. He thought about the woman he had just saved. He reminded him of another woman, so long ago forgotten. A woman from his childhood that he had blocked out of his mind.
Liam ran down the path and skipped in front of his grandmother. The woman smiled at her grandson. She was a pixie of a woman with smiling eyes, the same rich brown as the youth's. She had long silver hair and slightly pointed ears. He raced back and tugged on the woman's hand.
"Come on then." He laughed prodding her forward.
"All in good time my child." She settled into a graceful stride that was barely inhibited by her long dress. Behind them, now in the distance was their cottage. It lay on the outskirts of Galway county, Ireland. The countryside was lush and green in the early spring. "Now what are you going to be looking for?"
"Rosehips and coltsfoot and what was that last one?"
"Chamomile." They walked a little longer, the child like a sprite darting about and climbing over everything.
"Tell me the story again Grandmother? The one about the Wee Folk."
"Not right now. We're here." She left the path and began wading through the meadow. The large basket on her arm filled up fast with various plants.
The child helped a little but was more interested in the butterflies and other creatures that were in abundance. He ran back and forth under the bright sun. The lady took a break and sat by a stream that ran through the meadow. The child came over panting and sat down. He looked at her expectantly.
The woman turned her gaze to the water and squinted her eyes. She was no ordinary woman though. She was from the old generation. She was a witch of sorts. She prayed to the old gods and had clairvoyant moments sometimes. She helped the doctor out in the town and gave him advice. Frequently her grandson accompanied her as she went to collect various herbs and plants for her medicines.
"What are you looking at?" The boy's big brown eyes shined with interest. He watched the water and shook his head, seeing nothing.
"Hush my luachmhar." The water seemed to change but it showed something only she could see. The perfect day had suddenly picked up a chilly breeze but that was it. The woman looked at the child at last, over her basket. She regarded him with a puckered expression. Her eyes roved over the young lad. He sat up a bit straighter and looked back at her.
"Grandmother?"
"Iaoch." the boy searched his vocabulary. He didn't understand.
"So he is to be the iaoch." the woman said to herself. "Marbh fulaing." The boy knew what that first word was.
"I'm to die? Grandmother?" He grabbed at her skirt.
"Not for a long time." she assured him. But her eyes held a sadness.
"What is it?"
"You are to be the iaoch. And though you may not know what that is now, someday you will. Child you have a long road ahead of you. But you are to be known throughout the world. You are to be of great importance. But it will only mean something if you remember to try and follow your heart."
She leaned over and undid a necklace from around her neck. It was a Claddagh with a ruby heart held in the hands. She put it in his hands and clamped his fingers around it. "Keep this always."
"Yes Grandmother." He put it in his pocket. She looked back at the stream for a moment. The breeze reappeared making the little boy shiver. Then she stood up with the basket on one arm and the child holding her other hand.
Angel nodded to himself. The story had come back to him from over 200 years before. How could he have forgotten? His grandmother, the witch had foreseen his destiny. It was mapped out in the stars. So be it then. Taking the charm he slipped it on the filigree chain around his neck.
"I am the warrior." He whispered to himself.