The Witches of Slievenamon

"How? Why?"

"To understand, I need to explain where the Tuatha Dé Danann originate from, how we took this form and what I believe my brother did when he was still himself to put the present you into this predicament."

"So where are you both from, originally?" I ask as we continue to walk along the path in the moonlight.

We are not standing on a pavement, just a pathway worn in the grass underfoot. We are not in the wood on Etain's land, but in flat grasslands as far as the eye can see, with a few trees dotted about, no fences or the well-defined and intensely purposed fields of Tipperary.

"Firstly, let us retire to somewhere rather more comfortable for you to be."

He clicks his fingers and the moonlight countryside disappears and we are instantly standing in a large but comfortable sitting room, fitted with comfortable armchairs and sofas grouped in a semi circle around a roaring peat fire, illuminated by the soft light of a number of low-wattage lamps on tables. The walls are a subtly patterned cream wallpaper, with paintings of timeless landscapes and seascapes, the upholstery a red accented paisley print, an old fashioned look but a relaxing place to sit.

"Where is this?" I ask, wondering where he has taken me and would I ever find my way home from here? "How did I get here?"

"This is your new home here in Tir na nÓg Brother Richard, where your human body will be comfortable for short stays. I can create portals when and wherever I wish, although this one was created earlier in readiness for tonight. You can come and go from here between your world and this as often as you wish."

"But where exactly is this place?"

"Ah, well, if you go through that cupboard door on the right of the fireplace, it is a permanent portal which will take you to the cellar underneath Etain's side of your pair of cottages in the Slievenamon Road in Thurles. From your side it will appear as a brick wall, but to you, your wife-to-be, your daughter and your sister-in-law, the portal will recognise you and open up for you. Slievenamon Road is the place in your world where Etain is tied to and, as you two are tied together in life, so it is logical that you are tied to this place too. It will be much more convenient than the briar patch portal and, when your human body is close to death you, or your wife Etain, can bring you through your cellar to die here, where the witch's curse cannot harm you. Just remember, that in this house on this side of the portal you are in Tir na nÓg, so you cannot eat or drink or fall sleep here, otherwise your human form will be stuck here until death." Crédne smiles, 'That is why I cannot offer you refreshments. And the other reason why we are meeting here is because I am similarly not permitted to visit your world. I have visited so often in the past that my other brothers have lost their patience with me."

"I am still a little confused. Is this place, this Otherworld, where you and your brothers were from originally?"

"No. Where we were born, or more accurately, brought into consciousness, no longer exists," he replies. "My brothers and I were brought into being in the midst of a gigantic sun, shortly after the beginning of the universe. We remained there for most of my existence until the star grew and grew and then quite suddenly our home, that brilliant star, collapsed within itself and dramatically flew apart again in a supernova and we brothers were scattered in every direction. No matter is ever destroyed, individually we were collected up, attracted to other stars, all of them so far apart, so we can never be physically together again yet I am still connected to my family consciously."

"So you were ... what exactly?"

"I suppose we are pure energy, Brother Richard. If I reveal myself to you it would be like a supernova happening right next to you."

"Cool."

"No," he laughs, 'definitely not cool. Do you know what happens to stars in a supernova?"

"No, not really, but I suppose you're going to tell this mere mortal what happens?"

"It would be like a million nuclear explosions in one spot, consuming you to ash and revealing my brother's true form that I know will destroy both your forms, as well as this planet and probably most of your tiny solar system with it."

"Oh, my God!" I cry, "Could that happen by accident?"

"No," he laughs, "the mortal part of you is funny, my brother, more so because you haven't yet accepted exactly who you are. I can be in more than one place but mostly I am here in this human form while my true self is within a huge star in a different galaxy from here where you are in the Milky Way. Your true self, my brother, are also residing as a ball of burning energy in another star in yet another distant galaxy, each flying far away from here at a speed your human self couldn't appreciate."

"So, if you and my other self are a ball of burning fire, how did you get here and appear as yourself?" I ask.

"Good question. One of our brothers who was travelling much faster than us discovered by accident how to slow down time and, while exploring time and space he worked out how to project his consciousness to other timelines and dimensions. As when are all connected, we all knew how to do it too, which allowed other brothers to expand our knowledge, even to project ourselves to other planets and worlds. Sometimes brothers were beset with disasters but we all learned from those experiences and were able to analyse living creatures, build replicas from materials available on that world or other worlds and inhabit that world as if we were born to it."

"Like Earth?"

"Yes, one of many worlds that we tried until we came to Earth, where we found we enjoyed life here. Other brothers found vastly different worlds that were more to their liking. Earth wasn't interesting enough for many of our brothers. We share information instantly," he chuckles, "it takes a lot of effort to sift through a lot of stuff that is of no interest but it took a lot of time to get used to the mountain of information compared to when for so long we all shared exactly the same physical and mental experiences."

"I don't think I can take all this in. A week ago I didn't even know witches existed. Now I'm supposed to be a ball of energy with amnesia? I'm too stupid to make sense of any of this."

"Brother Richard, don't be down on yourself. You are still what you are and soon, well, soon in astronomical terms, you will get your memories back-"

"But what about my memories, my memories as Richard Kloss, human of this world?"

"Brother Richard, you are safe here in the Otherworld and the curse no longer applies to you here. It means that when your human body dies you will not be forced into becoming a Changeling within a new body, with no memories and having to live a mortal life all over again. Presently, you are still suffering from the application of that curse, coming from a very powerful witch, your once lover, Trixopheron."

"So I am going to die then?"

"Not exactly, Brother Richard you are truly an immortal, one of the Tuatha Dé Danaan, you are my brother. You cannot die of old age. In your true self you can be what you would call being 'killed', your human self could die in battle of wounds too severe for your conscious link to recover, trapping your true self in that distant star, having no reference point in which to create a portal, space is just too large to grasp such a tiny location. But, otherwise you cannot catch a cold or any disease and never suffer from old age. You do not need to eat, nor do you need to breathe. The human body you inhabit is not sustained by you, like my human body is, because you are locked into the mortal world by the witch Trixopheron's curse that prevents you from remembering how to maintain it, so your body will decay in time, I will not tell you when-"

"You can tell when I'm going to die?" I ask.

"I can, but I won't, Brother Richard. We have been interacting with humans for a hundred thousand years, we have nurtured them and guided them where we have felt they would lead better lives, without imposing our will upon them, well, not too much. We know from bitter experience that mortals knowing their future puts a terrible burden upon them, it is why those Witches that are able to see some version of a person's future are precluded from knowing their own memories or of members of their family. We Tuatha Dé Danann have no such problem knowing the future, it is not prescribed, things do change but we live on forever. I will not tell you your future in your human form, Brother Richard, but will inform you that you will have a long and fulfilling life ahead of you, just don't take unnecessary risks. Free will can be a bitch and plays almighty havoc with predictions, even those who are thought to be gods."

"So, when I die, your brother that is within me, will emerge in his own right?"

"No, Brother Richard, you are my brother, but you have been bewitched to forget your past and future and therefore you think you live only in the present and in your present frail body. The only reason why pure energy that lives within a star can exist on any planet is by projecting our consciousness through a portal and using any matter we can find or feed through the portal to build the body you see before you. I look human, I am made of the very same materials as you, but I am not actually alive. I can sustain this body through my portal, suitably insulated from the effects of being only a portal step away from the inferno that is the heart of a star. I do not appear to age because I am constantly and effortlessly replenishing every cell in my body. I am tethered to my real self and I only have this one other existence. Many of my brothers have lost their links not only to their bodies but to each other too. I have lost too many brothers to risk losing another. You cannot save this body from decay because although you are still intrinsically connected, your inability to remember yourself renders you with the same restrictions as a human mortal. When your human self wears out and dies, you must ensure that you are here, safe in the Otherworld, where the curse has no effect and your consciousness will be fully restored as my brother again."

"And my body?"

"It will still be warm in your death bed. It will be dead matter but it can be repaired, made good as new. We have found that we do become 'attached' to our bodies, we associate ourselves with our human form. You do not look too ugly, I've known a lot worse Tuatha Dé forms down the years; if Etain likes the way you look, well, then I would stick to it and, when you die and my brother's memories and abilities restored, you can simply remodel out all the acquired bumps and scrapes of time."

I laugh. "That is funny. So what do you do with yourself? I mean not to pry but am curious as to what I might do if I come out of this as an immortal without my human memories intact. I would hate to be a stranger to Etain and Caoimhe and not know who they are."

"I believe that if you 'die' safely here in the Otherworld without the witch's power over you, that not only will my brother's original memories be restored but you should 'remember' all of your experiences through the last possibly sixty to a hundred lives through which you have lived. They may even be restored to your human self while here, as the witch's curse loses it grip."

"That would be both amazing and somewhat intimidating."

"Like all memories, the most recent would be the most vivid and you can be selective in what you tune into and how you respond to the many brothers who have missed you for so long."

"So what happened to me, Sir, to put me in the position of being a Changeling?"

"We share all our thoughts, Brother Richard, we all feel everything our brothers feel. You can, how can I put it? ... tune out, I think would make sense, when there were uncountable millions of us after that supernova, each of us getting further away from each other it was almost unbearable after all our lives sharing exactly the same experiences, then every brother suddenly exposed to the cold of deep space alone. We had to develop new senses," Crédne smiles, "that was fun, because our only sense for millions of your years, other than our thoughts was the sense of touch."

"Touch?"

"We had existed together cheek by jowl in the furnace of the star, so we felt heat and its changes, both as it cooled and as it grew hotter; we could feel pressure touching us which varied depending on where you were, deep inside the sun or near the surface and you could feel all your brothers' feelings too. After the supernova, we were hurtling away from the centre of our existence and our comfortable predictions of our future, all our futures changed and for the first time, diverged.

"I felt, in fact I knew by simple prediction that I would be sucked in by another sun, surrounded by other balls of energy that were totally alien to me, who I could never ever communicate with. I am still here, in my present star, surrounded and crowded by similar entities, but utterly alone. So we brothers kept in contact through our subconsciouses, sharing what we were learning from our new experiences. Many brothers were destroyed, or were so traumatised by what happened that they lost contact. Only a few millions were left. Over the next billion of your years-"

"My years?"

"Yes, of course, your years. Years are just a measure of time. Years are a way of counting the number of times your world goes around your star. Your sun or multiple suns at the centre of your star system is the centre of your part of the universe and therefore you can count time in 'years'. And why would immortals in perpetual connection have need to consider or count time?"

"I see. I have much to learn."

"Worry not, Brother Richard, all will be revealed to you when you are ready. I am here to answer your questions. We have a link of sorts, just think of me in your world and I will get a message back to you, or enter the Otherworld at any point or portal and I will be aware of you and meet you at the portal."

So you really cannot enter my world any more?"

"No, there is a treaty. It was made with the new invaders of this island many years ago and there is no-one on your side left to enforce it, but on my side we, represented by our High Council, are always true to our word. It was you, my Brother, who brought us to this world, it was you that wanted us to stay, to make a difference, it was you who signed the treaty, but it was also you who broke it and I was sucked in trying to look for you."

"Why did I break the treaty?"

"Curiosity, at first, then you fell in love. When I sensed your loss, I too broke the treaty to look for you and ... I fell in love."

"God! What a mess!" I say in exasperation, slumping wearily in my chair."

"Indeed. I will leave you now, Brother Richard, Etain will come for you soon. We will speak again, no doubt."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter 16: THE PASSING

Mrs Caoimhe Connolly narrates.

Now, sit comfortably elders and children alike, because I am describing for you what I am seeing through my eyes and you'll be able to hear your parents, grandparents and me through my ears. Remember, I don't want any interruptions in my head, please ... especially you Katie, my dear, I know you have a big role to play and you're nervous but Pappa Richard loves you and so do we all and know you'll do grand.

For some of you I, Caoimhe Connolly nee Kloss, am your Mother, Grammie or Great-Grammie but I was elected by chance and circumstance to record your Great-great-Pappa Richard on his day of passing. There simply isn't room for you all to be there. I know he has been around to see you all in recent months up to a few weeks ago and to say, to each and every one of his loved ones, his own goodbyes.

This is not a sad time, though, just because we may never be able to see him in our homes again, he sincerely believes that he will be alive and well and that we can still visit him in the Otherworld, or on those glorious moonlit nights when he visits us in the Faerie Ring.

xXx

Now I am standing in my parents' ground floor parlour in front of the freshly lit fire in the fireplace, while my dear husband Pat Connolly dozes in the comfy armchair next to me. Once upon a time it would've been a smokey peat fire, that was outlawed a long time ago as you know, but this ancient cottage holds a licence to burn kiln-dried wood.

I'm staring at the collection of small photographs in an assortment of tiny wood or metal frames, so tightly packed on the mantelpiece that they all overlap, crowding underneath the mirror hanging over the fireplace.

I notice a familiar photo of my middle child, Fiadh, when she was 10, and I pick it up. She was beautiful then and she's beautiful now, though she's a grandmother herself three times over. And she's out there with you all, looking through my eyes.

I catch a glimpse of movement in the mirror above the mantlepiece, which arrests my attention, so I carefully replace the precious photo, fearful of starting a disastrous domino effect along the mantlepiece.

No, it's not Pat that's moving, he's still gently snoring away in the armchair, competing so he is with the crackling of the fire, both sounds somehow comforting for the occasion.

No, my thoughts are interrupted by two soft hands caressing my shoulders. I glance back up at the mirror to see a vision of loveliness, a woman barely a grown adult woman in appearance, so you would think she was younger than 20, her hair a vibrant red in contrast to my iron grey locks highlighted by silver strands. She smiles and speaks softly into my ear, the one she knows has the discreet hearing aid.

"It's time, Caoimhe, my dear, come," her voice as sweet as pouring honey, her smile warm, not with sorrow, but with a joyful expression of expectation.

I smile back in return. "Just give me a moment to gather my thoughts, Mum, to wake Pat first and tell him where I've gone and then I'll be down presently."

She squeezes my shoulders once more, plants a soft kiss with her plump lips on my wrinkled cheek and breathes, "There's time, child, your Da says he's surrendering, not being taken, so he will wait for you until you're ready."

"I will be down in just a minute."

With a nod she turns and glides away across the parlour and through into the hallway. She moves athletically, like a cat, but then she has been a runner all her long life and still runs at least an hour every day along the footpaths and roads around this ancient cottage in Slievenamon Road, Thurles, County Tipperary in all the years that I've known her, count them if you will, for 69 years. But that time of togetherness is drawing to a close for both of us.

Mum?! Some of you hearing this in the distant future who do not know our story so well may well ask yourself how can that possibly be right? 'Surely this vision of lovely teenager only now blossoming into womanhood, cannot possibly be your mother? You must be delusional,' you might well say to my face if not in my head.

And you'd be right to question how that is possible, after all, she's actually not my birth mother, but my step-mother. However, as I never personally met my birth mother (she died just moments after I was born) so Etain has always been my "Mum" ever since I was about 10 years old.

Yes, my Mum's a witch like all the females in our family but she's also immortal and will never age. She says she's about 1700 or 1800 years old, but a true gent like my father knows that you should never ask a lady her true age, only mark well her birthday so you never forget the day, ever, and quietly, conveniently, forget the toting up of the years.

Etain says she genuinely doesn't know the year she was born because Ireland was still pagan in those days and they counted the years not from the birth of Christ but in the number of full sets of the four seasons that the current king of all Ireland was on the throne and, as that king was the person whose curse made her life a long one of disappointment until she met her soulmate in the shape of my Dad, Richard Kloss, that long dead old king is rarely given any credence at all.