by Peter Green
Inside the banquet hall, raised voices continued to disturb the gathering. MacCuacht fought with his brothers. They were questioning of his ways and reticent of taking the same dark path.
The more time they spent with MacCuacht, Eiru knew they would be lost… The darkness of the soul is contagious… you only had to look at the witches Banba and Fodha. They were lost, the darkest of the dark, a formidable force of black magic, clairvoyance and the power of shape shifting.
Eiru was more concerned about the witches than MacCuacht at this stage. They were more likely to sense her errant ways. They may read her mind or even Terese’s thoughts.
Eiru, quickly and clearly, explained what she was about to do… “We must leave! We must join Sceine!”
Minute by minute, moment by moment, Terese was rejoining the living. Eiru shielded this transformation, casting a spell on those around her, stunting the senses of MacCuacht and the witches. They would hopefully be gone before anyone realises.
Eiru described her shape shifting powers to Terese and in that moment walked with her to the edge of the balcony… golden trails of deconstructed molecules and dissipating matter. Her shape unraveled and morphed. Forming and reforming, a powerful downdraft, swirling forms, a beat of a feather, a kaleidoscope of gold and amber light, feather tips and white light, great talons gripping, white tails soaring… Eiru and Terese were gone… into the quiet of the night.
No one sensed their leaving. They flew high, on their way to join Sceine…
*
… Sceine discussed the urgency of finding the Milesians and protecting their champion Amergin with her priesthood. These emissaries of the light must help her to find the destined one. She knew that Amergin and his tribe were strong and fearless. He had been bestowed with great powers from the ancients, like herself. But to confront the dark Sidhe in unfamiliar territory, they were like lambs to the slaughter!
She felt Amergin’s presence. Although he was still many horizons over the ocean away, the connection was growing… her senses were alive, her very soul lit up with the prospect of their meeting, kindred souls on a journey of destiny. Ancient lovers from past lives, reincarnated and coming together in full cycle, to meet again.
Together, the enlightened nations would be strong, a force to be reckoned with. Separate they were weak and ripe for the taking. They must stand and unite or divide and be conquered!
Long into the night, they delved deep into their consciences, searching for a way… Samhain urged his priesthood, “Be creative use your imaginations! If we are obvious then the dark Sidhe will be ready for us. We must be more cunning, more devious than our adversaries.”
The absolute truth, agreed Sceine. Amergin must be protected!
Something distracted Sceine. A disturbance in the night air! A movement high in the still night sky!
There! Again! A steady rhythmic beating of wings… She stepped away from the gathering, stealthily disappearing into the darkness.
No one noticed her leaving. No one had heard the distant, but ever nearing, soft but powerful rhythmic sounds. A wing beat, then silence, another beat, a rush of cold night air.
“What is this?!” Sceine climbed to the highest vantage point. Now away from the lights of the encampment, her night vision strained to pick out the far hills, and the faintest light of the tip of a crescent new moon, rising over the horizon.The slenderest, faintest crescent casting a lunar glow.
Against this luminescence she saw, or at least she thought she saw, an eagle rising and dipping over the line of hills, the rhythmic beating of wings rising to a crescendo. Sceine grabbed a blazing torch from the encampment. She sensed the arrival of an extraordinary being. Closer, closer, she could feel the downbeat of powerful wings. Against the crescent moon she could see an eagle, white tailed with a huge wingspan… but there was something else, a human form gripped in the mighty talons.
Sceine knew now that this was Eiru! But who was that with her?
Downdraughts of air, cascading photonic light, as the eagle descended and touched ground. Morphing as it alighted, she was wrapped in beating wings, eddies of air, and a spiraling vortex of photonic energy… Eiru arrived… and who is this beautiful, amazonian woman with her?
In an instant Sceine knew, “Terese of the Xantha!” she proclaimed, “How could this be!?”
“We have come to join you Sceine, “Eiru introduced Terese, “Terese was lost to the dark Sidhe, but she is strong in mind and in spirit, she has rejoined the enlightened beings of our beautiful world!”
Sceine embraced Eiru and Terese. She was heartened and strengthened by their arrival. Sceine marvelled at the timing of their arrival. Just at the moment when she and the priesthood were looking for answers as to how they were going to protect the Milesians and the Sea Druid Amergin.
“Come. Your timing is perfect!” Sceine took them to Samhain and the priesthood, who led them all in prayer, “We thank the Great Spirit for bringing you safely to us. We and the Guardians of Light welcome you, your strength and talents will be invaluable to the cause. We praise you! We give thanks to the Guardians of Light. May the Great Spirit bless you and give you strength in the ordeals to come.”
The makings of a plan began to form in Sceine’s mind. She suggested that they should all retire for the night. A fresh mind and a fresh approach needed now…
Sceine gave thanks to the Guardians of Light, her spirits raised she drifted into a deep slumber. Soon dreaming of her destined meeting with Amergin, drifting beyond the veil, floating through an amber mist, she was with him. Their bodies entwined, hearts pounding. She held him. He touched and embraced her, soothing her. He was in her dreams, they felt so real. Ecstacy and bliss… as soon as the night had come…the morning arrived! She turned to greet the light, a smile swept over her face, joy and happiness permeating every inch of her outstretched body. Sceine relived their tender moments. She was overcome with expectation and anticipation…
*
Far, far away, many horizons over the limitless Northern Ocean…
Amergin prayed and meditated, composing a lyrical poem as he did so…
As he wrote he started drifting beyond the veil, journeying to meet his destined one…
“White Swan”
The impossible rising of a white winged beauty becomes an airborne
softening of beating feathers.
Frond tipped gossamer, dipping sending ripples to ether, frailty and
strength, fusion of the angel and the beast…
*
Leaving the black, swirling waters, circling in aqueous, soaring overhead,
mighty and glorious, long necked and sensuous.
Paired for life, a formation of flight, wing tip to wing tip,
Menacingly graceful, passions on fire, a feather to the lip…
*
River’s bend, a place of refuge, safe haven to rest,
A bed of Sceine and Amergin searched and now found.
For life, mated, satiated, quintessentially love bound.
Beyond human compare, a realm of senses so blessed…
*
She guided him, coaxed him… Journeyed with him beyond the veil…
The power and intensity of his dreams, real yet not real! This beautiful being that he was yet to meet, controlled him, overwhelmed him and excited him. In joyous ecstacy he greeted the dawn and reached out into the ether with a comforting hand. The same smile swept through his relaxed and expectant body. The amber mists of an all consuming dream thinned and dissipated. Once again he was falling into an unfolding universe, down and ever down into a dark fleck of a strange, wondrously beautiful eye.
Each and every finely honed muscle flexing and relaxing, they smiled together, yet still so far away…
They both sensed the moment was coming… they both came from a spiritual place and rejoiced in their togetherness…
Amergin came too… abruptly! The day dawned bright and glorious…
*
MacCuacht yel
led at his brothers, “She cannot have gone! Find her, bring her to me or you will suffer my wrath!”
The two remaining Witches of Hawardden looked on in bewilderment, “Eiru, surely not!?” How could they have not sensed her leaving? They were surely as one, pledged to the same path. They joined the brothers, searching the imposing castle and its vast grounds. They searched and they searched… Not a trace!
Another mystery unfolded… Terese of the Xantha… She too was missing!
MacCuacht stormed and raged around the castle… No mortal was safe until that rage ebbed! Never had his brothers seen him in such a black tempestuous fury.
He would get answers and surely he would get revenge. Someone would suffer this night!
MacCuacht summoned the captain of the guard, his elite body guard, “Sirez! Gather your men. Bring me those that were on guard this night!” Sirez wasted no time, he was fully aware that his life and the lives of the guards were on the line. He had seen poor souls thrown over the battlements before now, to become the awful pickings for the Vultures of Mis. In allegiance with the dark Sidhe, they descended from high and distant eeries, their shroud like forms gliding in to clutch and snatch and to devour the dashed and broken corpses of the wretched victims of MacCuacht’s fury.
Sirez noticed the vultures were soaring again…Nervously, he and his men stood before MacCuacht. Sirez’s attention was drawn to the pallor of his sinister master, deathly white with ever darkening veins. As he questioned the guards, no answer was forthcoming. MacCuacht became even more tormented. The veins on his temples, his neck, the back of his hands and his furrowed brow pulsed and darkened. No one was safe!
He interrogated each of the guards in turn. His voice reaching a crescendo, as one by one they pleaded ignorance, shedding no light. None of them gave the information MacCuacht craved. The last guard to be dragged before him was visibly and physically in shock! Reduced to a quivering wreck by each searching and probing question, this poor wretch was clearly and transparently not to blame.
But his demeanour enraged MacCuacht. Showing weakness in his eyes was as good as confessing guilt.
Sirez stepped swiftly between his master and the shaking wreck of a guard, “They know absolutely nothing my lord!” he interjected, “I am sorry that we are none the wiser!”
Only this action saved the guard from becoming the next feast of the awful Vultures of Mis.
The interjection seemed to disarm MacCuacht, just as a giant shroud of a wingspan flew up and over the battlements, the indescribable ugliness of a Vulture of Mis. This distraction, ironically, saved the unwitting guard from a death even more dastardly than the living death he already endured, as one of the army of lost souls.
Surprised and relieved, the guards were ushered away from the battlements. Sirez swore on his life the guard would be doubled and preparations to be made to send insurgents into the Western Province to find Eiru and Terese. The retaliation for the betrayal by Eiru would be swift and vengeful!
The remaining witches suspected that Eiru had used a spell to shield her actions, and a potion to revert Terese of the Xantha back to the enlightened realm. The witches pondered and connived, they would produce a counter spell that would allow them to track Eiru, and potentially turn Terese once more.
Sure enough they found traces of Eiru’s metamorphosis, the disturbance in the photonic continuum as a result of her shape shifting magic. Magic that only Eiru and her sister- witches possessed.
They were aware now that Eiru as a White-tailed Eagle had gripped Terese in her talons and made their escape.
The witches informed MacCuacht of their discovery, and how Eiru could lead them and the dark Sidhe to Sceine. Unwittingly, Eiru could have given MacCuacht the very lead he needed! The ultimate betrayal could become the ultimate indiscretion. Maybe even the key to unlock and turn the portals of the Western Province… A twisted and sinister smile now convulsed across the deathly white countenance.
Ever darkening veins pulsed excitedly and expectantly…
*
The arrival of Eiru and Terese of the Xantha in to their fold heartened Sceine.
She felt the tentacles of the dark Sidhe ever nearing, but there was still time and hope…
The enlightened beings must act in good faith, standing against the corruption and malevolence of their evil foe.
The Tuathan tribes had fought long and hard to prise this verdant and sacred land from the grip of the primeval Firbolg, to bring light, equality and fairness to a land forever in the dark. Sceine’s dear departed father Antiem had given his life to the cause. To liberate the people of the Island of Destiny from the smothering, controlling slavery of the Firbolg and bring light, equality and justice to a land forever in the grip of oppressive, militaristic overlords.
The women of the Firbolg were mere chattels, possessions of the Firbolg warriors. The Shamen of the Firbolg had unleashed the dark energy of their aggressive male deities. All the warriors of the Firbolg were indoctrinated, brainwashed and controlled. They were fodder for the infection of the dark Sidhe.
The Shamen of the Firbolg had opened portals with their rituals and ancient ceremonies. The primeval dark ages of the Firbolg were now replaced with even darker forces.The battles with the Firbolg had been cruel, atrocious affairs, a war of attrition with no winners.
Many lives were lost. The hateful acts of war had fed into the spirit world and awakened the dormant dark Sidhe. During the dreadful deeds of battle, every scream, every terrible death, a soul was lost, drawn through the veil by the dark Sidhe, feeding a slumbering evil entity. The crusading adventures of the Tuathans galvanised the dark energy of the spirit world. The Shamen of the Firbolg were catalysts, their warring forays became the life blood for the dark Sidhe.
The treachery of MacCuacht and the terrible awful deeds all in the name of enlightenment fed directly into the portals of the spirit world. MacCuacht and his crusaders at the forefront of the slaughter became infected by the dark Sidhe first. The darkness consumed them, their way was lost. They were the emissaries of evil now. An army of unholy beings, lost souls, was created. They were intent on a perpetual crusade until all this sacred land was converted and lost to the dark cause…
Sceine knew MacCuacht was such a being, she sensed his anger and rage at the loss of his beloved Eiru. They must be ready…
To have Eiru and Terese in their fold was a blessing! She could learn much from them. Their insight and knowledge could be critical. Eiru in particular had the direct connection with MacCuacht. She had witnessed his conversion. She knew the depths of his darkness and had a sense of his scheming malevolence. Terese of the Xantha had been taken, crossed the veil and gone deep into the dark spirit world, and returned. She was saved by the magical powers of Eiru.
Sceine sensed the danger in relying on the newly returned Terese, but she was fundamentally a good being. The infection of the dark Sidhe could run deep into her psyche, into her very DNA. Sceine knew that MacCuacht and the two witches would be doing their utmost to return Eiru and Terese back into the darkness. Maybe the all consuming rage of MacCuacht would be the distraction she needed?
The tribes of Milesia were nearing. The poet champion Amergin will need their help and protection. They came over the ocean over the distant Western horizon, while to the east the dark forces were mustering… the moment of truth nears…
Sceine called her priests to her. She knows they must return to the high mountain fortress of Sliebh Mis. The defences of the great fortress must be prepared.
Eiru and Terese of the Xantha will journey to the western coast to meet the Milesians. They will become part of a plan to deceive MacCuacht. Their lives will be at risk, they will be in grave danger, but they are the bait, the lure to distract the forces of the dark, whilst MacCuacht in his rage and anger seeks Eiru. She and Terese will give Amergin and the tribes of Milesia a window of opportunity to arrive safely on the Island of Destiny. Sceine counseled Eiru and Terese of the Xantha, impressing on them the need
for secrecy.
Sceine also marshalled a force of her best warriors to go north into the vanquished land of the Firbolg. The mission was to win the hearts and minds of the more enlightened Firbolg. They would attempt to give help to the downtrodden, provide sanctuaries for the homeless and bring fairness and equality to the women and youth of the Northern Province. Under the leadership of Septiem, an inspirational priest, they would bring light where there was once dark, faith where there was hopelessness and peace after generations of war and intimidation. The message would travel with Sceine’s priests and warriors like windblown seeds. The message of enlightenment will take root and flourish. The gentle, peaceful way of the Guardians of Light will hopefully endear itself to the downtrodden and war torn Firbolg…
MacCuacht and his army of lost souls, guided by the raven haired witches Fodha and Banba were in pursuit of Eiru and Terese, in the belief that they would lead them straight to Sceine…
MacCuacht's way was in stark contrast to the way of the Guardians of Light and Sceine. His dark threatening ways would pander to the animal within, to greed, to selfishness, to the craving for power, for personal possessions, to the addictions of the human condition.This, all at the cost of the soul and the heart and to love. He will draw in the weak, suck the humanity from their souls, corrupt them and ultimately destroy them. They will be lost, transformed and changed forever.
In his world the portals of Divine Light will become sink holes of the dark, feeding off the frailty and weaknesses of the human condition. Beacons of Divine Light will transform to black holes draining and sucking the goodness, love and pure spirit out of the land…
*
The coming morning witnessed the movement of Sceine and her faithful out of the camp. She returned south to the high mountain fortress of Sliebh Mis… Eiru and Terese went west to the ocean… Septiem went to the Northern Province to meet with the Firbolg…
