Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Fantasy

          INTRODUCTION/GLOSSARY 

 (If you don't read this, there's a good chance you'll be confused)

In this book, there is the Human World and Magical world.

In this Magical world there are four Clans which are all placed in Ireland. Yes, these clans do mingle within the human world but it is not seen unless you're really looking! 

I will describe the Kings and what they do!

The Southern Clan is run by Ronan, who is titled The King of the Southern Clan. He controls the Seas and has full control of the Navy. The south is the largest territory and the most important. The Southern Clan is always in charge of protecting The Tree of Life. 

The Western Clan is run by Cúchulainn, titled The King of the Western Clan. This clan has the most manpower and Cúchulainn controls the Winds! They the second biggest Clan.

The Eastern Clan is run by Aralt, titled King of the Eastern Clan. Aralt is a business man, this Clan is the biggest when it comes to trades and artillery. Aralt controls Fire.

The Northern Clan is run by Barram McKinley, titled King of the Northern Clan. This Clan is the smallest due to the previous King, so Barram is building from scratch. Barram is control of Archiving everything that has happened in Ireland and keeping the culture alive! He controls Earth elements.

Each King has a protector, all are women- well except Barram's but that's a story for another time! The four Protectors are;

Muirgen: Southern Clan, twin sister of Ronan.
Saoirse: Western Clan, she is a seer.
Aednat: Eastern Clan, she's the only person Aralt trusts! She's dangerous!
Quinn; Northern Clan, he's an Earth Nymph!

If you'd like to keep up with my characters or see what they look like you can find my Instagram in my bio. I'm a self taught artist!^^ NOW ON TO THE STORY!

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                Chapter 1 ○ Muirgen 

                    Ireland, 1915

It's a cold and foggy day on the southern end of Ireland. Gray skies block out any form of sunlight, causing the scenery to look hauntingly abandoned a kind of melancholic universe. However, if you look past the thick gray skies you'll see all the beauty that surrounds you. The tall dark emerald grass that reach up to your hips and sway melodic in the whistling wind, it's as if the wind itself is playing the most beautiful music and only the grass can hear it; so it dances in a slow motion. Below, the waves crash against the sharp rocks at the bottom of the cliff. At least, that's what you see at first glance. Earth and water become one in an extravagant scene; the Ocean waves like a passionate woman and the Cliff side like a burly sailor who just returned from long months at sea. The Ocean crashes into her lovers arms but the cliff never falters, he stands proud and tall because that's his only job for her. The Wind sings for the lovers and the grass dances for them, for their love story. All the while, a girl watches from a distance.

Muirgen sits at the edge of the cliff humming to herself, an old tune her mother engraved into her head as a child. The tune is soft and soothing, a lullaby. Muirgen's pink lips move to match the melody of the song while her icy blue eyes watch her slender and pale fingers loop rope into knots to shape a pendant. Her long pure snow white hair, which is usually worn down, is shown with braids on both sides of her head which disappear into the tight bun that's pinned on her head, she left her bangs alone though. As a silent act of defiance, as if saying; "Yes, I'll obey, but I'll do it my way!" She wears a simple black dress with long-sleeves and lace up boots that go a little past her ankles, a boring outfit for an eventful day. It was her an her older twin brothers twentieth birthday today, the funniest thing about their birthday is that they look nothing alike...anymore. Both Muirgen and her brother had blue-black colored hair, thick and soft, until Muirgen had the Gods change it to white as a gift for completing her initiation trials, not pale blonde, no hints of any color, just pure white; Ronan asked for nothing. He was always like that.
Ronan kept his blue-black hair but let it grow out. It fell past his chin, like a dark waterfall, and rested on his broad shoulders that went with his large and muscular body. He stands at Six-Foot-Seven and tops it all off with a stoic face and a full beard. Though he seemed distant and mysterious, he truly enjoyed Muirgen's gifts and shenanigans. He got into a few himself.

Muirgen finished her pendant and examined it carefully. It had to be perfect or it would never be worth anything in Muirgen's eyes. When she felt content with her creation she stood up, brushed off her dress, picked up her bag of supplies and headed off towards the main square in the town. The town wasn't that far off from the cliffs where she was just sitting, thank goodness there were no children whom were older than two years of age living here and if there were, they were old enough to never play by the cliffs. Muirgen passed a few people who all bowed their heads politely at the white haired girl, she bowed her head back and continued to walk. 
The town was lively with music and dancing. People danced and sung as others played music, either on their fiddle or pipe some even carried drums. The occasional drunkard would dance out of the bar and tread his way home, children would chase each other around the streets and fairies would play tricks on unsuspecting people. Yes, you heard that right, faires. They weren't like your usual visualization of faires, yes there were your two inch tall creatures with vibrant wings and perennial clothing- but they usually kept to themselves and lived deep in the forests. The faires that lived in town, however, ranged from two feet to five feet in height. If they weren't joining in on songs and dances they were playing tricks, some were good-hearted and some were cruel, it all depended on how you treated them. 

Muirgen walked through the small crowd of people and into the Great Halla an Deiscirt, in English it would be called The Great Hall of the South. She waited quietly until her brother was free from his pestering council men. Most of the conversations were about trades with the other clans, how the harvest was, armory count, concerns of the people and what was going on in the human side. Ronan sat on his throne quietly as he listened to each statement. He wore a plain black short sleeved shirt, that showed off his bulging muscles, plain black pants with a black leather belt that matched his black slacks. A boring outfit for a baroque setting.
The hall was enormous, the floor and ceiling were at least ninety feet apart. The distance from the large mahogany doors, which were fifty feet tall and twenty feet wide, to the back wall of the hall was two-hundred feet; the same distance as the side walls. Paintings of mountains, fairies, battles and parties hung around the Hall in carved frames. Two giant lanterns hung from the ceiling, the fires that illuminated the entire hall were enchanted, they burned endlessly. Enchanted wood, carved into a basket with intricate knots tying it all together, encased the eternal flames. However, nothing was as prominently beautiful as the throne. It sat at the farthest end of the great hall, with steps leading up to it. A painting of the First Battle of Dumha Aichir sat above the throne. The throne itself was ten feet tall and five feet wide, it was made of dark wood with Celtic knot designs, made from gold, carved into it. Rare jewels sat at the head and base of the throne. On the front of the throne, under the crown of jewels, was an inscription; "Rí na Farraige" King of the Sea. 
The men bowed and left Ronan, who looked like he had no sleep last night. When they saw Muirgen they gave a small bow and left. Muirgen walked over to her brother, her footsteps echoing in the vacant hall. She hummed a cheery tune, her hands behind her back, smile on her face and a skip in her step. Ronan eyed her warily as she stepped up to him but relaxed when she kissed his cheek.

"Happy birthday, Ronan." She said. Her voice was as soft as freshly fallen snow, a whisper in the wind, a soft breeze over a calm ocean. 

"Happy birthday, Muirgen." Ronan replied. His voice was deep and rumbling. Like thunder in the beginning of a Nor'Easter, clear as ice, unforgettable like a shipwreck. The voice of a powerful leader.

"I made you a present." She smiled and showed him the pendant. It was a Celtic Warrior knot made from blue and black rope. Ronan blinked and took out his gift; a Celtic knot of protection made with the same colors.

"Well, this is embarrassing." He grumbled. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The Twins looked between their gifts and each other. Then laughter filled the great hall. They hugged each other and took their gifts and put them on. Muirgen looked up at her brother and giggled.

"So, anything exciting planned for our birthday?" She asked as she leaned on the throne.

"Not until dinner. You and I have important business to attend to." Ronan said as he rose and stretched.

"Business? With what? With whom? Why?" She asked. Ronan looked back at her.

"We have a new druid." He said.

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