Chapter 1
Flashback:
The pale woman lay on her death bed, beautiful even with her dark hair plastered to her sweat slicked face. Her daughter held her hand as she breathed very weakly.
"You have to take care of them now and protect them from the dark forces," she wheezed painfully.
"Don't be ridiculous, Mother. You'll be fine in few days, just like always," the girl tried to convince her mother and herself. They both knew that the wounds she sustained were too much for even her. It was only a matter of time now.
"Promise that you will always protect the gifted ones, they are our only hope."
"I promise. I will protect them to the end, and I will show the gifted ones how to defeat the evil ones." She squeezed her mother's hand in reassurance, knowing that time was short. Two young boys walked through the sheet dividing the small hut into two rooms and ran to their now dying mother.
"You can't die Mama," the five year old cried.
"Child, everyone has their time, and this is mine. You mind your sister, Moargon, and one day we'll see each other again in Tir Nan Og," she cupped his face in one of her hands, praying that he would understand.
The older, a hot blooded eight year old clenched his fists, "It's not fair. I'll kill the one who hurt you. I'll make him pay."
An alarmed look crossed the pain filled face. "Eshyn ghuirrys sheilley hayr yn skeilley (he who broods evil shall be overtaken by it). Don't ever do something for revenge, it will only eat you up inside and turn you into who you want to destroy, then who has won?"
His face fell and he hung his head in shame. His mother held both children and began to sing them a lullaby about magical islands far to the west where fearies lived and played, eating and singing and never getting old. A place where they would see each other again someday. The last verse was very faint, and when she finished it she breathed her last.
Tears streamed down the little boys faces and their much older sister cradled their faces against her neck, comforting them. She knew it would be a long time before they saw her again, and an even longer time before she saw her. Who knew what could happen.
***
Moargan watched the raft burn as it sailed west toward home, a cat and large white horse stood on either side of her. She fingered the gold ring that represented her family and their station in her kingdom. It would be a long time before she could return, if she ever returned.
The villagers were upset that she didn't bury her mother in the Catholic cemetery, but they did not understand anything about the strange family that lived on the other side of the mound, or why Eve O'Saihnnon couldn't be buried beside her husband. She refused to explain herself to the Priests. No matter how good intentioned they were, they wouldn't understand. To them the old ways were nothing but stories to be told to children at night. She knew better, and that was what would save them.
Flashback:
The pale woman lay on her death bed, beautiful even with her dark hair plastered to her sweat slicked face. Her daughter held her hand as she breathed very weakly.
"You have to take care of them now and protect them from the dark forces," she wheezed painfully.
"Don't be ridiculous, Mother. You'll be fine in few days, just like always," the girl tried to convince her mother and herself. They both knew that the wounds she sustained were too much for even her. It was only a matter of time now.
"Promise that you will always protect the gifted ones, they are our only hope."
"I promise. I will protect them to the end, and I will show the gifted ones how to defeat the evil ones." She squeezed her mother's hand in reassurance, knowing that time was short. Two young boys walked through the sheet dividing the small hut into two rooms and ran to their now dying mother.
"You can't die Mama," the five year old cried.
"Child, everyone has their time, and this is mine. You mind your sister, Moargon, and one day we'll see each other again in Tir Nan Og," she cupped his face in one of her hands, praying that he would understand.
The older, a hot blooded eight year old clenched his fists, "It's not fair. I'll kill the one who hurt you. I'll make him pay."
An alarmed look crossed the pain filled face. "Eshyn ghuirrys sheilley hayr yn skeilley (he who broods evil shall be overtaken by it). Don't ever do something for revenge, it will only eat you up inside and turn you into who you want to destroy, then who has won?"
His face fell and he hung his head in shame. His mother held both children and began to sing them a lullaby about magical islands far to the west where fearies lived and played, eating and singing and never getting old. A place where they would see each other again someday. The last verse was very faint, and when she finished it she breathed her last.
Tears streamed down the little boys faces and their much older sister cradled their faces against her neck, comforting them. She knew it would be a long time before they saw her again, and an even longer time before she saw her. Who knew what could happen.
***
Moargan watched the raft burn as it sailed west toward home, a cat and large white horse stood on either side of her. She fingered the gold ring that represented her family and their station in her kingdom. It would be a long time before she could return, if she ever returned.
The villagers were upset that she didn't bury her mother in the Catholic cemetery, but they did not understand anything about the strange family that lived on the other side of the mound, or why Eve O'Saihnnon couldn't be buried beside her husband. She refused to explain herself to the Priests. No matter how good intentioned they were, they wouldn't understand. To them the old ways were nothing but stories to be told to children at night. She knew better, and that was what would save them.
