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darkwaterstrilogy · 1 year

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Chapter Seven

Eoin was panicking. He hadn’t been this nervous in a long time. Hell, he didn’t remember EVER being this nervous. But here he was, pacing, palms sweaty, heart racing, waiting outside of Ashling’s office for her to arrive. She had said she would be here at nine, but in his stressed state, he hadn’t been able to sit still. Eamon finally kicked him out of their shared motel room, after he lost patience at his rounds about the room and he found himself at her work a full half an hour early.

Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t like he hadn’t talked to her alone before. Sure, the last time had been brief, but he had managed. This time though would be much longer, and he was going to be answering all her questions, which were many if he had to guess from their conversations last night.

He had been shocked when he answered the phone and heard her voice on the other end. He thought for sure that he would have to be the one to approach her again once everything had settled a bit. Having her reach out to him within the same day was incredibly promising and he ended up falling asleep after their call ended with a smile on his face.

But he was going to have to explain everything: the history of his people (their people, really), why her parents left, her magic, her family including her brothers (who more than likely will also possess magic), and the family her parents had left behind when they moved to Canada. The thing that terrified him the most was her reaction. Would she believe him? Would she think he was completely batshit? He understood that this sort of conversation would completely change her life, especially if he got her to agree to what his ultimate goal was: To bring her back to Ireland with him.

The nervous energy suddenly left him, his nerves still raw, but he was suddenly tired. What if she didn’t agree to come back? He couldn’t go back without her, for multiple reasons, the greatest of which is their bond. There was no way he could leave her here and feel the constant pulling and longing for the rest of his days. He would truly go insane then. He was so greatly fucked.

He was jolted from his swirling thoughts by a car pulling into the parking lot. He spotted a bright flash of red hair from inside the car, clearly announcing who was inside. His nerves came slamming back tenfold, causing a shaky exhale, and sweat to form on the back of his neck.

He watched as she climbed out of her car, bag slung over her shoulder, and he was once again struck by her presence. Her dark jeans, black floral blouse, and gray cardigan made for a casual yet professional look. Her hair was down in loose, natural curls. Her makeup was light, simply highlighting her bright green eyes. Beautiful, he thought.

But it wasn’t just her beauty that struck him. Once again, Ashling’s magic slammed into him. It was not painful or unpleasant, but wrapped around him almost curiously, seeming to push at his magic. He felt as her power seemed to acknowledge who he was and then settled over him, like a warm blanket settling over his skin. It helped settle and calm his nerves, the fact that her magic accepted him. Maybe, that would mean she would be more willing to accept him as well.

“Good morning,” she called, smiling toward him, seeming a bit nervous herself. She stopped in front of him, shifting her bag from one shoulder to the other. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” he answered, trying to bring his thoughts under control. The last thing he needed was for her to think he was panicking. He wanted her to see him as sure and steady in what was happening, knowing that she could rely on him. He wanted so badly to be someone she could lean on. “Did you sleep well?”

She laughed softly. “Not at all. My mind wouldn’t shut off. I did take advantage of the extra time though.”

“Oh really? And how did you do that?” He asked, his eyebrows raising in question.

“I made a list of questions to ask you, so I don’t forget anything.” Of course, she did. She seemed the type to be hyper-organized always.

“Well, I hope I can answer all of them for you,” he answered sincerely. He truly did. He can only imagine what it must be like to have such life-changing, seemingly crazy-sounding, news dropped on you and have to sit on it overnight with no outlet at all.

“I do too,” she said simply, a small smile on her face before she stepped around him to the door. “Come on in.”

He followed her inside and, unlike yesterday, was able to take a moment to look around the office. The building had very clearly been a home at one point but had been repurposed for business matters. It's ivy-covered, stone front gave a cozy cottage feel to the structure. Once inside, it was spacious and bright with fall sunshine falling through the windows.

They turned left from the entrance and entered what had once probably been a living room but was now converted into Ashling’s office. A wooden desk stood in the middle with two chairs in front and an office chair behind. A large picture window faced the front of the property, dousing the whole room in sunlight. A fireplace stood in a corner behind the desk, a warmth that was probably appreciated during the harsh Canadian winter.

Eoin walked towards one of the two chairs sitting in front of the desk. Ashling placed her bag on the desk and was about to walk behind it to sit in the office chair when Eoin reached out and took her hand in his. The now-familiar zing of their bond sharing magic between them, zipped across his skin as he gently pulled her back to sit in the chair to the side of his, turning his chair to face her more than the desk.

“This conversation is quite personal,” he said quietly. She settled into the chair, looking at his hand around hers, but not actively moving to separate from him. “Better to do this face to face without furniture in between.”

“Ok,” she breathed, seemingly dazed for a moment, probably from the same energy swap that he felt. He wondered briefly if she enjoyed the sensation as much as he did.

“So, Ash...what is your first question?” He watched her attention snapping back from where their hands still sat tangled together and turned back to him.

“Oh, right!” She pulled a piece of folded paper out of her pocket and opened it, if not a little awkwardly with only one hand. “Umm, basics first I think.” She paused momentarily, reading over her list before finally deciding on where to start. “What exactly is a druid? History describes them as social leaders, scholars, and religious leaders in ancient Celtic society.”

“Well, that is all true!” He said, sinking forward to rest his elbows on his knees, nerves leaving him to be replaced with excitement. “Though religious leaders are a little misconstrued. Ancient druids would lead religious ceremonies and would study the signs left by the gods, but they didn’t preach to the people like more modern religious leaders.”

“Ok, that makes sense, this would have been pre-Christianity,” she said thoughtfully, “What else? What does history miss?”

“Honestly, quite a bit. Druidic history was mostly oral, passed down through memorized stories, songs, and lessons. When they were finally written down, it was by monastic priests who were prone to editing to suit their Christian purposes. The only other written records of druids were the accounts of Roman and Greek academics and conquerors, like Pliny the Elder or Julius Caesar.”

Eoin thought back to how his father explained their history to him as a child. He had grown up with their culture and had a basic knowledge to refer to. Ashling was completely in the dark and it made him unsure as to where to start.

“In ancient times, it was fully acknowledged that druids were magic. They had connections to the Gods and the Earth that others simply did not. But once the Romans invaded, they began persecuting druids as a way of weakening Celtic tribes to conquer them. With the influx of Christianity into the region, later on, the persecution became even worse. Eventually, to avoid being completely wiped out, we had to go into hiding.”

Ashling had also shifted forward in her seat at this point, the history student clearing shining through in her eyes. “How did they do that?”

Eoin smiled slyly, winking at her before saying, “Magic.”

“Well, I could have guessed that myself, thank you very much.” Ashling had a look of agitation that caused Eoin to laugh.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. In all honesty, though, it is the truth. They created pockets of land that were only accessible to those with druidic magic through a door of sorts. The pockets still exist! There is one outside of Toormore, which is where I, and your parents, are from. It’s called Tearmann an Deiscirt in Irish or the Southern Refuge. There are five large pockets, including ours, one in each cardinal direction and a central one which acts like our capital for all intents and purposes along with many smaller areas scattered across the country, and that is just within Ireland!”

“That’s incredible! Like a fully functioning nation!” Ashling looked amazed, wonder shining in her eyes. Something warm bloomed in Eoin’s chest at her expression, her enthusiasm seemingly contagious.

“We are a fully functioning nation, essentially. We have a central leadership, along with leadership among our different regional areas.”

Ashling seemed to absorb that information for a moment, processing everything before snapping her attention back to Eoin and shaking the slip of paper still in her hand. “Ok, back to my list! What exactly can a druid do? Magically speaking, I mean.” She didn’t even seem skeptical anymore about the whole magic thing, making Eoin want to dance. She was believing him!

He thought about how to answer her question properly. Druidic magic was complicated. How could he even begin to explain in a way that would make any sort of sense? Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. He looked down; their hands were still connected. At some point, Ashling had unconsciously entwined her fingers in his, the energy still thrumming between them. He drew their hands towards his body, pulling Ashling’s closer to him.

“Why don’t I show you?”

#magic #druids #prophecy #celtic #soulmates #ancient religions

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darkwaterstrilogy · 1 year

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Chapter Six

The phone rang for what seemed like hours, allowing her anxious brain to continue its spiral between staying on the call or hanging up and pretending this had never happened. But she had made it this far. There was no way she was giving up her one chance to ask this guy everything that was building up in her mind.

Finally, after eons of waiting, the call was answered with a rough “hello?”. He sounded tired. Why that mattered to her to the point that the thought fluttered through her consciousness, she wasn’t going to think about right now.

She had planned out what she was going to say to Eoin. She was going to demand the truth, demand that he explain himself. Be assertive! At least, that had been the plan. Once the man in question picked up the phone, reality came out quite differently.

“I have questions,” she squeaked across the line to him, “lots of them.” Like that mattered at all. Good job being assertive there, Ash.

“Ashling?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “Is that you?”

His response stunned her a bit, temporarily knocking back the awkwardness she had been feeling and bringing her anger at him and the general situation back to the forefront. “Do you have many women calling you with serious, potentially life-changing questions?”

He laughed then. He laughed at her! Though it didn’t sound like a malicious or condescending laugh that she could tell over the phone, it still rocketed her irritation up another level. “What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m not laughing at you,” he breathed through giggles. Yes, the man who claimed to be a magical druid only an hour ago, was giggling. Maybe he was crazy. “I’m just so relieved you called and seem calm enough to make jokes.”

“It wasn’t a joke,” she muttered, “it was a sarcastic quip.”

“Ah, yes, of course, it was.” Bastard. “I am glad you called, though. Honestly, I was worried I would have to brave your brothers again to try to talk to you.” She didn’t blame him. Declan had looked ready to murder someone when he ripped him away from her. And her other brothers would have helped hide the bodies.

“They are fully prepared to ignore that tonight ever happened and chalk it up to two insane people trying to con us,” she responded. She was mad at her brothers’ seeming lack of interest. She knew the whole thing sounded far-fetched but was it the right thing to just completely dismiss it?

Eoin hummed in response. “But you’re not?”

“No.” It was a whisper, like saying it too loud would breathe life into the very idea. She had not verbalized it so clearly to Seamus when he had come to talk. But it was true. She wasn’t so ready to cast the entire idea of druids aside, as wildly insane as it might have sounded.

“I am so glad to hear you say that!” he exclaimed, and he did sound glad, relieved almost. “That means you did feel it, didn’t you? The spark or shock from before!”

“Yes. I felt it.” Saying out loud felt like a weight was off her shoulders. “What was it anyway? I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

“It was your magic, Ashling. Yours responding to mine, instinctively. I felt your magic the second I walked into your office this afternoon. I knew right away that you were the one I was looking for.”

She sat up straighter, pulling her feet up to sit cross-legged in anticipation. “About that! Why are you looking for me anyway?” She would come back to the whole “magic” thing in a moment. This seemed like the first, most pressing order of business.

She heard him sigh across the line. “That is a long and complicated story, Ashling. I want to tell you, but maybe over the phone isn’t the best idea.”

Frustration rippled through her again. Oh no! He was not getting away with not telling her anything again! “You can’t honestly expect me to believe a word you are saying without any sort of background or context or anything other than “you have magic, Ash!”. Thanks, Hagrid, but I am going to need a bit more than that!”

He was laughing at her again. God, this was quickly becoming a habit. “Did you just make a Harry Potter joke?”

“You need to stop finding the jokes in the middle of my angry rants and focus on the whole sentence!” she fumed at him.

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound the least bit sorry. “I want to tell you everything, Ashling. Just in person where I can see you and your reaction to the whole lot of it.”

“Ok, well, when then?”

“Are you going to be at your office tomorrow?”

“Yes, I work every day besides weekends and holidays.” She cringed at herself. She could have just said yes. Why didn’t she just say yes?

“Then it’s settled! I will be at your office tomorrow morning, and I will answer any of your questions. I am an open book!” She could practically see his chest poof out in exaggerated bravado.

“Fine. I will be there at nine o’clock.” She paused for a moment, suddenly reluctant to end the call. “I do have one question for now, though.”

“And what is that?” he asked, sounding a lot more settled than when he had first answered the phone.

“Hypothetically speaking, for now, contingent on whether I end up believing you or not, when did you learn about your magic?”

“I’ve always known,” he answered quickly, “Our garrán teaches the children from a very early age what our magic is and how to use it properly. The earliest I remember is at six, my father teaching me about magic’s connection to the earth, where all druids get their power from.”

Ok, there was a lot to unpack in that one response.

Suddenly tired, she decided on the easiest question for now. The rest could wait until tomorrow and the consumption of a considerable amount of caffeine. “Garrán?”

“Literally translated, it means grove.”

“Like a grove of trees?”

“Yes. It is the equivalent to covens for witches or packs for shifters.”

“Do those exist?”

He chuckled. Not the full laugh from before, but a more tired, relaxed sound. “Tomorrow, Ash. I will answer all your questions tomorrow. It’s late, you should sleep.” Her nickname sounded nice in his voice. He was right of course. She was half asleep sitting up.

“Ok. You should rest as well. See you tomorrow?” she asked, wanting to make sure he was serious.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed for her. “Good night, Ash.”

“Good night.”

#magic #druids #celtic #prophecy #soulmates #ancient religions

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darkwaterstrilogy · 1 year

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Chapter Five

“Well, that went fantastically well, don’t you think?” Eamon asked, with a sarcastic tone clear as day. They had just made it back to their car after being unceremoniously evicted from the McCoubrie’s home.

Eoin was in a foul mood. Things had not gone to plan at all! He had so many other things he had wanted to say to Ashling. They all got lost in his head the very second he was confronted with talking to the girl he had been dreaming about meeting for years. And then, he touched her. The second his magic touched hers, he felt their bond finally snapping into place.

He had been attempting to follow the formally weak pulling of the connection for years to try to find her. Now, though, it was solid. He could feel it pulsing in his chest, pulling him back toward her. ��Yeah, well, I didn’t see you jumping in to help me out at all!”

“I am not her anamchara, my friend. You are! It is your responsibility to tell her the truth. I am simply here for moral support,” Eamon countered, standing by the passenger door with his arms leaning on the roof of the car.

Eoin groaned out a tired “for fuck’s sake.” He was right, of course. His responsibility was to introduce Ashling into their world, answer her questions, and be her guide and protector, especially with the way their world was turning. “I don’t know how everything went so sideways. What do I do now?”

“I don’t know, brother, but you best figure something out.” Eamon straightened, a somber look once again clouding his features. “If she doesn’t call with questions of her own by tomorrow, you are going to have to reach out to her yourself. And this time, you will have to get her to believe you. If you don’t, not only will your father be on our asses, but Maire will as well. I don’t know about you, but that woman terrifies me!”

Shuddering at the thought, Eamon got into the car. Eoin remained a moment longer, turning to look back across the street to the McCoubrie’s home. He would have to get Ashling to listen long enough to get everything out into the open and explain everything. He had no idea how he was going to do that, but it would have to be soon. They were running out of time.

________________________

After the whole debacle that happened downstairs, Ashling had thrown herself onto her bed and had not moved from beneath the covers. While just that morning, she had been doing the same thing seeking warmth, this time, she was seeking comfort.

Her mind was a jumbled mess flitting back and forth from “how dare he” to “but what if he was telling the truth” and back again. It felt ridiculous that she was even considering that Eoin was truthful at all. Druids? Really?

Druids did not exist. Historically, there was a group called the druids back before the Romans came to Britain and then died out from persecution with the introduction of Christianity to the region. They were not magical beings! They were tribe elders, wise men or women, healers, teachers, and religious leaders.

Frustrated, Ashling turned over again, aggressively adjusting her pillow until she was happy with it. Despite what her history schooling told her, she had felt the spark when Eoin touched her hand. It wasn’t just a static spark like you get if you run your feet across the carpet too many times and then touch someone (a favorite prank Seamus used to play). Instead, it was a deep jolt of energy. It almost felt like something in her was connecting to something in him, and she had no idea how to explain it and even less of an idea of what it meant.

She was pulled from her storm cloud of conflicting feelings when a knock sounded on her bedroom door. Before she could ask who was there, it opened, and a jumble of red curls and flailing limbs practically fell into the room. Of course, it was Seamus.

“Hi,” was all he said as he came to sit next to her balled-up form.

“Hi,” she muttered back.

“How’re you feeling?”

Sighing, she decided to ignore that question altogether and ask one of her own instead. “Where are Dec and Cian?”

“Cian is in the kitchen stress baking. Brownies, I believe. Dec has gone out for a run to blow off some steam.” Cian had a habit of baking when he was anxious or upset about something. When he had been fired from his last job, they had almost drowned in scones and muffins for weeks. She had known that bringing up their parents would be difficult for all of them, but she didn’t think it would upset him this badly.

She was struck with a sudden jolt of regret. Why had she told them anything about the stranger coming into her work? She knew how ludicrous his claim to know anything about her family more than likely was. But she had held a tiny flicker of hope that maybe they would be able to learn something about their parents’ shadowy past. Tears pricked at her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Seamus. This is all my fault.” She sniffed, trying rather unsuccessfully to blink back the tears that were threatening.

“Ash, this was not your fault,” her brother turned more fully to face her the best he could, placing his hand on her shoulder. “You didn’t know this would be the outcome. You thought they might genuinely know something, so of course, you told us. We would have been more upset if you hadn’t.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Talking about Mum and Dad is always a little difficult. It is just worse this time because someone decided that our grief would make for a good laugh. I mean, druids? Really? What a load of shit!”

“You don’t believe them at all, then?” Ashling blinked a few times and took a shaky breath. She wasn’t sure if she should even broach the topic of what she had felt with her brother, but with Seamus only being a year older than her, they had always been close. Maybe he would understand where she was coming from.

“Of course not,” Seamus scoffed, his face scrunching up with irritation before smoothing out into a more unreadable expression. He looked more directly toward his sister. “You don’t, do you?”

“Well, no. But…”

“But…” he prompted.

“I felt something when that guy, Eoin, took my hand,” Ashling began slowly.

“Felt something like his sweaty palms?” Ash laughed softly at that. Her brother liked to make jokes to lighten the mood during serious conversations that made him uncomfortable.

“No, like a shock. Or jolt might be a better word. Like something in me waking up.”

“Something in you?” Seamus looked concerned now. “Don’t tell me you are buying into this magic stuff?”

“No! No! I mean, I don’t think so.” She trailed off towards the end of her sentence, feeling silly now for even bringing it up.+

“Ash, we already have one airhead in the family who is currently trying to drown us all in brownies. We don’t need another one.” Ashling was shocked by her brother’s words. What a mean thing to say, not just about her but about Cian as well.

“Seamus, how can you say that?” Suddenly angry, she sat up and glared at her brother, who had risen from his seat, and walked back towards her door.

“It’s the truth, Ash,” he bit out, his anger apparent. “The whole business about magic is a bunch of garbage. The sooner you get that idea out of your head, the better off we will all be. That Eoin guy is gone, along with his friend, and if we are lucky, we will never see him again.” With those words, he turned on his heel and strode out, closing the door with a hard slam.

Her anger left her suddenly, leaving her exhausted, tears threatening to fall once again. She knew her brother was right. Of course, he was right. But then why did the thought of never seeing Eoin again bother her so much? She felt so torn, her emotions raging against one another, question after question tumbling through her mind. She needed answers as desperately as she needed to breathe. It was apparent her brothers were not going to help her find those answers.

A course of action took form in her mind. It was insane; she knew it was, but what other choice did she have? Raising from her bed, she quietly opened her door and tip-toed down the hallway towards the last room before the stairs leading to the main floor, creeping past Seamus' lit-up bedroom.

Silently opening the door to not alert Seamus of what she was doing, she crept inside. An ornate desk was pushed underneath a large window facing the backyard. Declan was always obsessively neat, so it wasn’t difficult for her to quickly locate the little square of cardstock in his top desk drawer. He would be so livid if he knew what she was doing.

After making sure everything was exactly as her brother had left it, she turned and left the room, closing the door as silently as she had opened it. She made her way back to her room, again giving Seamus’ door a wide berth. Once she had safely closed her door and was home free, she sat on her bed looking down at the card, the little black letters stark against the white background. She picked up her phone and dialed the number. She was going to get her answers.

#magic #druids #prophecy #celtic #soulmates #ancient religions

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darkwaterstrilogy · 1 year

Text

Chapter Four

The four McCoubrie siblings stared at their sudden and frankly unwanted guests, unsure as to what they were going on about.

“What do you mean, four of us?” Cian asked the regular mirth he carried, disappearing into an unease that you could see by the set of his shoulders.

Eoin cleared his throat, gathering himself a bit after his outburst. “We weren’t expecting four of you. We were only expecting…well, you.” He trailed off, looking towards Ashling.

“I’m still stuck on the part where you were expecting anything from us at all,” Declan ground out behind gritted teeth. He was very quickly losing patience with the man he had immediately deemed a total idiot.

“Yes, right! I think we are getting a bit ahead of ourselves, Eoin.” Eamon quickly established himself as the voice of reason between the two of them, bringing Eoin back from whatever tangent he found himself on.

Sighing, Eoin leaned forward, putting his elbow on his knees, bringing him closer to Ashling’s personal space. “You’re right. I should start with the fact that my parents were friends with your parents back in Ireland.”

Declan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Funny, they never mentioned anyone with the last name O’Connor,” he said, lifting the white business card bearing Eoin’s surname on it.

“I’m sure they didn’t,” Eoin countered, “Did they ever mention anything about their home? Family? Anything at all?”

“No, they always said they had no interest in living in the past whenever it came up,” Ashling sighed, thinking back to many conversations with her parents. “I did some research of my own after they passed. But I never found anything other than they were from a village called Toormore on one of the southern peninsulas.”

“Yes, that’s right!” Eoin exclaimed, pushing even farther forward into his seat. She had been looking! Not like he had been looking for her, but that wasn’t surprising, seeing as how she knew…well, nothing. “It’s in County Cork.”

Declan was steadily becoming more unhappy with the entire situation. He was just about at the end of his very short rope. “Ok, great. What was it you had to tell us, exactly?” He saw Cian and Seamus nodding in agreement, probably also very close to being over the whole thing.

“Yes. Right. Well,” Eoin started and stopped, seemingly unsure of how to proceed. “This is going to sound very strange, but I want you to keep an open mind until we’ve finished.” He looked to Eamon for help, who was sporting an uncharacteristically stoic face. He was going to let Eoin flounder on his own, the bastard.

He turned to Ashling, suddenly very nervous. He had been waiting for this moment since he was a teenager. But now that he was in the actual moment, he felt like he had no idea what to do. She was everything he thought she would be and then some. She was beautiful with her long red hair that hung in natural curls. Her green eyes held an obvious intelligence and curiosity to them. She was also covered in freckles which he found adorable.

There was also the matter that he could feel her power vibrating from her, the very moment he walked into her tiny office. It pressed down on his skin, but not in an oppressive way. It was almost like a caress or a curious once-over. He could also tell that she had no idea that she was doing it.

“Your parents were part of the same community my father is. They were friends back in the day,” he started, still trying to find a way to explain without sounding like a completely insane person. “They were druids.”

There was a pause then, the siblings each taking in the information. Eoin didn’t continue, waiting for the inevitable outbursts, eyes carefully trained on Ashling’s face, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Druids?” Seamus asked slowly.

“Yes, druids,” was Eamon’s answer, finally chiming in.

“Like magic and fairies. Those druids?” Cian questioned, staring at the two like they were losing their minds.

“Well, we have nothing to do with the fae if we can help it, but the magic part is true.”

Declan was officially done. How dare these two harass his sister at her work and then have the balls to show up at their house. Now they were spouting some nonsense about their dead parents being fictional magical beings. These two sons of bitches had no shame, and he was done.

“Get out.” He said, voice dangerously low.

Eamon looked to the eldest McCoubrie and saw nothing but impending violence in his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Not a problem. We will be leaving.” He tried to pull his friend along with him as he got up from the sofa, but Eoin didn’t budge.

“Ashling?” he asked, lowering his head to try and catch her gaze. “Can you feel it?”

“Feel what?” she asked, still avoiding looking at him. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Part of her was outraged that these two had led them to think they had genuine information about their parents, only to come up with this rubbish druid nonsense. But then, there was another, small, buried part of her that whispered that it might not be as rubbish as it seems.

“Your magic.” Eoin moved forward then, grasping her hand in his much larger one. A spark of energy seemed to crack beneath the surface of her skin before jolting into his. She gasped and stood. Eoin moved with her, still holding onto her hand. “Can you feel it push against your skin?”

“That’s enough!” Declan roared, grasping Eoin’s shoulder, and tearing him away from his sister. “How dare you put your hands on her!”

Though he was being shaken like a doll in the hands of the biggest McCoubrie, Eoin’s eyes never left Ashling, and she found herself staring right back. What was that spark? How had that happened?

Suddenly, nothing made sense. Ashling’s life wasn’t the straightforward one that she had always believed it to be. Because shehadfelt it. What did that mean for her, though? Or for her family?

Finally forcing herself to break away from the dark eyes of Eoin, she turned and ran out of the room and up the stairs. She couldn’t deal with all this right now, her mind spinning in too many directions.

She slammed the door to her room shut, leaving behind it the sounds of the two strangers being removed from their home by her brothers.

#magic #prophecy #druids #celtic #soulmates #ancient religions

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darkwaterstrilogy · 1 year

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Chapter Three

“Don’t you find this the least bit stalker-ish?” Eoin turned his head to the seat next to him in their rental car. Eamon was looking at him with a face that read of distaste and unease. “I mean, you showed up to her work, acting all sorts of dodgy, shoved a business card at her, and then disappeared like a weirdo. Showing up at her house, which we would only know where it was by following her, seems like an unwise decision by my book.”

Scoffing, Eoin turned his attention back to the house they were currently parked in front of. “We don’t have time to wait for a socially acceptable amount of time to pass.”

“If that’s the case, why didn’t you just talk to her in her office?” Eamon didn’t fail to notice the sheepish expression that crept onto his friend’s face.

“I chickened out, alright?”

“Chickened out? Eoin, we’ve been looking for this girl for years! Years!”

“That’s just it, isn’t it? Years and we finally found her! My mind blanked.” Eoin looked down, seeming ashamed of himself. He knew how hard they worked to find this woman. He could tell the second he walked into that office that she was the one. He could feel it in his bones. “Besides, it worked out ok. We’re here, aren’t we?”

Eamon sighed and slumped further into his seat. He loved Eoin like a brother; they grew up together, with Eamon being a few years older. But sometimes, he drove Eamon mad. “Alright, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Eoin nodded and hesitantly opened his car door and stepped outside. This was going to be a long night.

_____________________________________________

Dinner had been tense, to say the least. Everyone was lost in their thoughts, and little was said except the occasional “pass the potatoes.” Ashling, for her part, didn’t blame her brothers for the silence. She was grateful for the time to process her mess of emotions over the whole thing.

Should they call this guy? What could he possibly have to say about their parents? It had to be a scam, right? But then, how did this guy even know about their parents? Their accident had been significant, the kind of crash not often seen in such a rural place. They had been t-boned by a transport truck whose driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and then struck three other cars, killing those passengers as well. There was a write-up in the paper about it.

That must be it! That was where this guy found them. He must be looking for sad, grieving families to con and was googling local tragedies! Ash wasn’t sure what kind of plan would involve something so insensitive, but it was the only thing that made sense.

Sighing for what felt like the millionth time since her return home, she got up and began clearing the empty dishes from the table, her brothers raising to do the same. It was their nightly routine. Cian cooked pretty much all the time. He enjoyed it (unlike the rest of them) and was good at it. The other three McCoubrie siblings were responsible for the clean-up.

They were only half done when the doorbell suddenly sounded. All four siblings froze, confusion written on their faces.

“Was anyone expecting guests?” Declan asked, setting the dish he had been drying down on the counter. A chorus of no’s followed.

“I’ll get the door,” Ashling offered, moving quickly around her goliath-sized siblings towards the front door to not keep whoever was outside waiting too long in the cold. She pulled the door open, beginning to greet whoever it was, until the words stuck in her throat when she saw who was on the other side of her front door.

It was the same man from her office: Eoin. He looked the same as earlier, right down to the stupid look on his face, the sides of his eyes crinkling from the smile slowly creeping forward. He stood on the top step of her porch, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other raised in a sad sort of half-wave.

“You!” she exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

“Yes, me.” He answered, having the common courtesy to look at least a tad uneasy, “I wasn’t being frank with you earlier.” He lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

“You think?” she answered back, her sarcastic tone making him cringe a bit.

“I am also here!” a voice called from behind Eoin. Ashling, startled, leaned around the tall roadblock standing in front of her to see who was behind him.

Another man, slightly shorter than Eoin, stood just back from the beginning of the porch steps. His blond hair was messy, but in a way that looked like it was done on purpose. His blue eyes and striking features made him a pretty handsome man, though the twinkle of delight in his eye spoke of a jokester buried within.

“Sorry! My friend has no manners,” he said with a smile, pulling Eoin back from the porch and stepping in to take his place, his hand outstretched to shake. “My name is Eamon.”

“Nice to meet you, Eamon,” Ashling answered hesitantly, gripping his hand in hers in greeting.

“Likewise!” he chirped, a smile stretching further across his face. “I’m sorry for turning up like this, but we were hoping to speak to you. It is rather important.”

“Your friend mentioned something about my parents when he broke into my office.” Ash’s tone left no doubt that she was annoyed (to say the least) at Eoin’s approach to the whole situation.

“Yes, well, he is an idiot,” Eamon grinned as if that explained everything. They both ignored the indignant “Hey!” that sounded from over Eamon’s shoulder.

Before anything more could be said, Ashling felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Declan standing behind her, glowering at the two men outside.

“Who’s this?” he grumbled. He had heard Ashling speaking to whoever was at the door and knew something must be up for her to still be there.

“This is Eamon and Eoin,” Ashling answered, pointing to each man, respectively, who were both standing with surprised faces. “Eoin was the man from work I was telling you about.”

“Really?”

Eoin cleared his throat, moving past whatever it was that seemed to shock him, and stepped closer once again, a much more serious look on his face. “Yes, about that. We do need to discuss something with you about your family.”

“May we come in?” Eamon added, hoping to break some of the tension, not to mention getting out of the damn cold that was starting to settle into his bones.

Ashling could tell right away that her brother was mere seconds away from suggesting the two strangers go straight to hell and slamming the door in their faces. Still, she was far too curious to let that happen. “Oh, yes! Please come in!”

Declan turned to her, shocked. “What?”

“You don’t want to hear what they have to say?” She asked, looking at him with a knowing stare. He was just as curious (and concerned) as she was.

“Fine,” he bit out through clenched teeth before turning on his heel and stalking back into the living room.

Ashling turned to their sudden guests, waved them inside, closed the door once they were both in, and pointed them to one of the sofas with a quiet “please sit.”

Eoin rubbed his hands together in anticipation before looking at Eamon. “Where should we start?”

Eamon opened his mouth to answer before Declan, who had been looming behind the oversized chair Ashling was in, chimed in with a stern “wait.” The two men stilled, unsure of what they were waiting for.

Ash turned towards the kitchen and called, “Hey Seamus! Cian! Come into the living room, please!” Cian entered first, wiping his hands dry on a towel from doing the dishes. Seamus came in second, tripping over the rug as he did so. He managed to correct himself before he fell but almost took out a lamp in the process.

“Jesus, Seam. You are a menace,” Cian muttered, rolling his eyes. He moved to sit down in the chair next to his sister and faced their visitors, both of whom once again sported shocked looks.

“There are four of you?!”

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darkwaterstrilogy · 1 year

Text

Chapter Two

Ashling loved her job. She did! But sometimes, it just got a little monotonous. Today was one of those days.

She worked for a local historical society in their little town of Erin. Although the town name would have you think that there was a large Irish immigrant population, most early Erin settlers had been Scottish. The town even has a Gaelic block. She had wanted to work specifically in the field of Irish-Canadian history since that was what her degree was in. However, there weren’t any careers available in her area close to her family home.

Being first-generation Irish, she had always been fascinated by the culture and history of Ireland. Her parents, who had immigrated from there about 30 years ago, were not fond of discussing their home. But, she tried to do some research independently. She never really found anything, leaving their past a mystery after they died.

The historical society snapped her up right after she graduated from university. It was a lot of research and some interviewing, which she loved if the topic was interesting. But right now was not one of those times. She was constantly catching her mind wandering on her as she looked over old, handwritten immigration records from the 1800s. How was she going to make it through the entire day?

Sighing heavily, she laid her head on her desk, hands coming to rub at the back of her neck to ease tension. She closed her eyes. Maybe after a quick break, she would be able to focus better.

“Headache?” a heavily accented voice flitted through the room. Jumping in surprise, Ashling pulled her head up to look at the source.

A man was standing before her. He was very tall, she noted, with black hair and equally dark eyes. She could see something akin to humor dancing in those eyes. Handsome, she decided, before she could catch herself. How did he even get in here? She thought she had locked the door.

“Can I help you, sir?” Ashling clipped, pushing herself out of her chair quickly to stand.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” He drawled, raising his hands in mock surrender. His accent suddenly clicked; Irish. “I was hoping you could help me locate someone.”

“Locate someone?” Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Sir, this is a historical society, not a-”

“A historical society for this village, right?” He took a step closer to her desk, not crowding her, but closer than she would have liked. “I’m looking for a family that lived here once. Hopefully, they still do.” There was something in his tone of voice that made her a bit uneasy. Nothing malicious, but almost teasing.

She sighed, his logic not making sense in her mind, but decided to humor him. It was a small town anyway. She might know the people he was seeking out. She began rifling through her desk for the local phone book.

“Last name?”

“McCoubrie.”

Ashling froze. That was her last name. Why would this person be looking for her family? She turned to stare at him. Again, she saw the humor in his dark eyes, making her believe that he already knew who she was.

Deciding that just outwardly admitting that she was a McCoubrie might not be the best idea, she instead asked, “Why are you looking for that family?”

“Just seeing if they are the same McCoubries that I’m looking for. If they are, I have information for them.”

“Information?”

“About their parents.” Ashling’s world spun for a moment. Who is this guy? How would he know her parents? He was about her age, no way he could have known them from back in Ireland. She was about to start bombarding him with questions when a card was thrust in front of her face.

“That there’s my card if you find the family. Have them give me a call.” Again with that look on his face, like he was the only one who was in on the joke, “have them call me. It’s important.” He smiled at her before turning and walking away before she could say anything.

Ashling flopped back into her chair, suddenly exhausted. She looked down at the card in her hand. Nothing special, just white card stock. A name glared up at her. Eoin O’Connor. So that was that jerk’s name.

It was an old Irish name, much like her own, pronounced like the modern name Owen. Underneath the name was another Irish word, one that she wasn’t familiar with: Laochra. She had never seen that word before. She would have to google it later.

She looked at the clock on her desk. She only had a few more hours until she was done for the day. It would be irresponsible to leave now, no matter how much she wanted to run home to alert her brothers of the odd man. Stuffing the card into her pocket, she attempted, unsuccessfully, to focus on her work for the rest of the day.

_____________________________________________

When she got home that evening, it was the smell of food that greeted her once again. She heard voices from the kitchen. She paused for a moment, unsure what to tell her brothers. Does she tell them about the man? They always had a protective streak when it came to her, all three of them. She remembered back in 11th grade when she was dating a guy named Keller. Looking back, she could see he was a bad guy, but at 17, she was “in love” and was blinded to his true nature.

Not her brothers! Oh no, they made his life hell for the whole four months they dated. After she caught him with another girl, she went to Declan, crying. He comforted her like any amazing brother, such as himself, would do. It wasn’t until a few days later that she learned that someone had broken Keller’s nose. While he had never come out and admitted it, she knew it had been Declan. Her other brothers were just as bad.

She could only imagine what they would do if she told them what happened. Yeah, that would not go over like a lead weight.

But, she couldn’t refuse to tell them. If this was really about their parents, then they had a right to know as well. She couldn’t keep that from them! It wouldn’t be right!

Sighing, she trudged her way to the kitchen. As she walked in, she saw Cian first, at the stove cooking once again. Seamus was sitting at the kitchen table looking over school books. He was getting his Master’s degree in English at the university a few towns over, the same university she and Dec had attended. Declan was also sitting at the kitchen table, sipping at a beer, watching their brother work away.

Pausing at the doorway, she took a moment to revel in how lucky she was. Even after the loss of their parents, their family was as strong as ever. She didn’t know what she would do without them. The thought made her chest hurt.

Looking up, Declan noticed her standing there. “Looking a little misty-eyed there, Ash. You alright?”

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she straightened out before walking over to sit at the table as well, feeling the eyes of her brother on her.

“I’m fine,” she stated, “just, something weird happened at work.” In an instant, all three of her siblings were looking at her. Cian had stopped cooking and turned, full attention to her. Seamus had looked up from his books, taking in her expression.

Declan’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “What do you mean by weird?”

“Well, I had been working at my desk,” Ashling started, looking down at her hands on the table, clenching the white card. “I put my head down for a second to give my eyes a break when someone spoke to me.”

“From in the building?” Cian asked. Ash nodded, knowing why he was asking. “You always lock the door behind you if you are the only one going in.”

“That’s just it! I did today, too. I don’t know how he got in.”

“He?” Declan practically growled out.

“Yeah. Around my age, maybe a little older. Black hair, dark eyes, tall, had an Irish accent.” She straightened in her chair, almost bracing herself for what they were going to say. “He said he was looking for a family in the area.”

“And?” Seam pushed, leaning his elbows onto the table in anticipation.

“He asked for the McCoubrie family.” She looked at their faces, all looking shocked.

“What? Did he know who you were?” Declan was agitated. Not yet angry, just agitated. He had a generally rough feel to him on the best of days. He was quick to irritate and quite intimidating if you didn’t know him well, especially when he went to work. Declan always wore a suit to work and kept his red beard and hair meticulously groomed. Ashling would joke that with the serious expression he always wore, Declan looked like a ginger James Bond when he went to work.

“He didn’t say. Though, from the look in his eye, I would say he did. I didn’t tell him who I was, anyway.”

“Did he say why he was looking for us?” Cian asked, looking more concerned than she had seen him in a long time.

“He said that he had information about, uh,” she stumbled over her words. She felt as if the words had gotten stuck in her throat.

“About what, Ash?” Declan reached out and laid a hand gently on her shoulder.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, keeping her eyes screwed tightly shut. “About our parents.”

The reaction was almost immediate. All three men pushed back into their seats as if they had been burned by the words. They had all grieved the loss of their parents a long time ago, but the wound was still there, still slightly raw.

Declan leaned forward on the table once again, fixing his green eyes on Ash. “How would this guy know Mum and Dad? You said he was Irish, right?”

“Yeah, if my ear was right.”

“Mum and Dad left Ireland almost thirty years ago. If this guy was around our age, Ash, there is no way he could have met them,” Seamus stated quietly. “They never even went back to visit. Never mentioned family from there. It’s impossible.”

“I thought the same thing,” Ash admitted. “He’s probably just trying to con us or something.”

Cian, having been quiet during the exchange, looked at Ashling’s hands folded on the table. “What is that paper in your hand?”

She looked down, seeming surprised to find that she was still hanging onto it. The cardstock felt heavy in her hands, the weight of the tension in the room seeming to focus on that one small piece of paper.

“He gave me his card.” It was immediately snapped out of her hand by Declan. She could tell by the bunching of his jaw that he was holding his temper back by a thread.

“Ee-o-in?” he tried, not sure of the pronunciation of the name. He looked at Ash, who shook her head.

“It’s pronounced ‘Owen,’ a pretty traditional Irish name.”

“Like all of our names,” Cian pointed out. It was true. Their parents had named them all very Irish names. Very Irish. No one could pronounce them right, which made school hard.

“What is this word under the bastard’s name?”

“Declan!” Ash admonished, “You don’t know him enough to say that. He could be perfectly nice.” Her brother looked at her like she had lost her mind. If he was going to say anything about her outburst, he had decided against it.

“What’s this?” he asked again, pointing to the strange word on the card.

“I don’t know. I have never seen that word before.” Ashling admitted. Declan glared at the card as if to intimidate it into giving him answers.

“Well, should we call him?” Cian asked from across the table. “I mean, what if he does have information?”

“Not a chance.” Declan got up from the table, taking the card with him as he stalked upstairs, effectively ending the discussion.

“Wait, Dec!” Seamus ran after him, leaving Ash and Cian alone in the kitchen, the latter getting up to continue with dinner. Ash wanted to talk to him, to get his opinion. But, when she looked at the sad hunch on his shoulders, it was clear that wasn’t the best idea.

Sighing once more, she got up from the table to set it for dinner. The discussion was over, for now anyway.

#magic #prophecy #soulmates #druids #celtic #ancient religions

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darkwaterstrilogy · 1 year

Text

Chapter One

It’s freezing! That was her first thought as she burrowed deeper under her blanket, seeking any source of warmth she could find. It was barely October, for God’s sake! How was this even possible?

Finally giving up the futile attempt at staying warm, Ashling steeled herself against the cold and threw her blanket back. Springing from her bed, she made a mad dash for her sock drawer, pulling on the fuzziest socks she owned.

Deciding that coffee was just the thing she needed to warm her up, she walked downstairs, pausing quickly to wrap herself in the throw blanket from the couch in the living room. As she approached the kitchen, she could hear clanging, letting her know at least one of her brothers was awake.

Although they were all full-grown with relatively stable lives and jobs, Ashling and her three older brothers had decided to live together. This allowed them to save on expenses and keep their tight family bond, at least until one of them decided to venture out on their own. Besides, leaving the house that they had grown up in was not appealing to her in the slightest.

Turning the corner into the kitchen, she was greeted with the smell of bacon and the face of her brother, Cian, the second eldest.

“Good morning,” she chirped, grabbing a mug to pour herself some coffee. “Are the other two still sleeping?”

Cian, always good-natured, turned from the stove to smile at his sister, green eyes sparkling, and pushed a bit of his short red curls away from his forehead. “No. Declan already left for work. Seamus is still asleep.”

“I wish Dec would get a job closer. Driving into the city every day must get tiring after a while,” Ashling said, frowning into her cup as she sat on a stool at the kitchen island. Declan was their eldest brother at 30 and worked as a book editor in Toronto. It was an hour and a half drive from their little town of Erin, pretty much in the middle of nowhere.

“You know how he is. He would never admit it. He’s too stubborn for that!” Cian laughed, scooping bacon onto a plate. “Just like Dad!”

Ashling smiled at the thought. Their parents had died in a car crash when she was fifteen. She had strong, happy memories of her mother and father. “You’re right, though I think that it’s a trait all of us inherited from Dad. I don’t know how Mum put up with us for so long.”

Cian laughed around a piece of bacon, swatting at his sister’s hand as she reached for a bite from his plate. “The woman had the patience of a saint.”

It had been hard for the four of them when they passed. Declan had just turned 21 and was graduating from university. As soon as he could, he got a job and tried to provide for his siblings. Cian had been 18, and Seamus, the youngest boy, had been 16. Cian, of course, tried his best to help. He was never the greatest at keeping one job for too long, a fact shown by his current bout of unemployment.

“How is the job hunt going?” Ashling questioned, sipping from her mug. Cian just shrugged, continuing to eat, not looking at her. She knew that Cian always felt ashamed when he lost a job. It wasn’t entirely his fault. Sure, he was kind of airheaded and tended to daydream a bit too much, but some of his bosses were asses. “That good, eh?”

Cian sighed, shoulders slumping a bit. “I’m pretty sure word of my poor employability has been spread around all of Erin.”

“Have you tried Caledon?” Ashling asked. Caledon was the next town over and was much larger than Erin. Hopefully, he will be able to find something there.

“That’s my next step.”

“Don’t stress too much. You’ll find one!” Ashling reached to pull her brother into a one-armed hug, laying her head on his arm, his shoulder being too high for her. If there was one thing that her brothers inherited from their father that she had not, it was their height. They were all giants, over six feet! She was lucky to make it past five.

“Thanks, Ash,” Her brother smiled at her. He seemed to regain some of his confidence, at least a bit. He reached over to fluff her bright red hair, another shared family trait.

“Hey!” she cried in agitation, reaching out to smooth her hair. She had a hard enough time taming the natural curl she had without her brother adding to the problem.

They heard a sudden bang from the living room followed by a blue streak of curses reaching their ears, causing them to laugh.

“You ok, Seam?” Cian called, their brother’s clumsiness never failing. They didn’t get a response, just the sight of a disheveled Seamus stumbling into the kitchen, hobbling slightly on what must have been a stubbed toe. He had never seemed to grow into his gangly build. He was very skinny and all limbs with a penchant for flailing, hence the clumsiness.

His hair was a mess of red curls atop his head. His deep green eyes were still groggy, his pajamas were all over and wrinkled. It was a sight that, while hilarious, they were all used to. Seamus was not a morning person.

He stalked grumpily over to the coffee maker, poured himself a cup, and flopped onto a stool next to Ashling, reaching across her to steal some bacon from Cian’s plate.

“Hey! Get your own!” Cian cried, glaring at his brother, who just sent his look back, silently daring his older brother to do something about it.

Ashling just laughed, sliding off her stool. “Now, children, no fighting! I have to get ready for work.” Simultaneous replies of “Fine!” were answered behind her as she walked upstairs. She shook her head at their antics. They never change!

_____________________________________________

Two figures stood by a car parked outside a small motel. The shorter of the two was digging through the trunk, apparently looking for something, grumbling slightly.

The taller, standing by the driver’s side door, called back to his companion. “Oi, Eamon, hurry up!” His thick accent cut through the air, annoyance clear.

“If you want me to move faster, you could get up and help.” The other clipped in agitation. “Besides, why are you in such a hurry? It’s not like she is going anywhere. Plus, we don’t even know that it is her.”

“It’s her, to be sure.” The taller man put his arms on the roof of the car, dark eyes sparkling with something Eamon might have said was close to arrogance.

“Oh really, Eoin? And you that for a fact, do you?”

“I’ve got a good feeling this time, Eamon!”

“Ok. And what are you going to say to the girl, then?” Eamon looked up from the trunk towards his friend, whose arrogant look suddenly fell away. “Well, big man?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“No? I’m shocked!”

Eoin blinked at him for a moment, face blank before screwing up in annoyance.

“Oh, shut it,” he muttered, before moving up to fold his large frame into the driver’s seat of the small car, effectively all but admitting defeat in their argument. Eamon smirked before turning back to continue rummaging through the trunk.

#magic #prophecy #druids #celtic #soulmates

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