Dear Da,
Reality is setting in – I'm worried that too much time has passed; that Daideó is gone… maybe even you and Mam are… But part of me hopes. And imagines. And theorizes.
This could be some sort of magic trick – I do remember Dispelling an enchantment when facing the necromancer's lieutenants. Maybe we are stuck in a deep spell. Or some sort of mirror universe, like the alchemists propose. You never know! And then, maybe we can return…
But my head says we were put to sleep by some necrotic magic - stuck in stasis - and time cannot be reversed.
But you still could be alive, and so I want to imagine that you are still here. Oh, and we met a new friend who is very interesting, so I should tell you about her.
We escaped that pol ifrinn of a village, and came across a small cottage in the middle of a forest. The others were all cautious and worried, but I was sick and tired and traumatized and thought that a nice cottage would be a great place to rest. The roof was falling in, but the stones looked sturdy enough. The door fell in when Firia knocked, but we could still close it after ourselves.
El went to search the house on her own, but Firia & I went straight to the kitchen to get a meal going. We discovered a thin vegetable stew warming up on the hearth already, and I may have accidentally knocked that over. But it was okay – Firia cleaned it up and made an even better stew, and threw in some berries I found along the way. Maimeó's botany lessons were not in vain.
It turns out that the soup belonged to a young girl, possibly abandoned here. Her name is Ori, a blonde young… human? She didn't seem to know much about her past, but was adorable and innocent and absolutely literal, but also wise and uncannily knowledgeable. I believe she is touched by magic – a bhea feasa, perhaps.
She loves my music and stories, and I helped her fall asleep that evening with a tune Maimeó taught me when I was young. My lullaby was so good that I think everyone fell asleep, but I was on first watch, and I called the alarm when the tree beside me grabbed my foot!
I instinctively screamed a Curse, and that twisted tree writhed uncontrollably, unable to act further. A wave of magic emanated from this draighean, maybe calling out to other evil creatures?
Yes, the trees attacked us – they were controlled by some strange black stones, buried in the heart of each tree. When flames engulfed the clearing, I knew that El was taking action.
The night creatures were fleeing the area, so I opened myself to the Tainga Ainmhithe. The squirrels were panicking – not unusual – and the the rest were calling out, warning me to escape. One brown sparrow landed on my shoulder, calmer than the rest. She sent a picture of twisted crows, killing beyond their nature, and that this tree was fine earlier today. A blight, or a darkness, is spreading in this land.
I quickly grabbed Ori, and hauled her up in front of me onto Scáthfile, and rode off. El and Firia were creating a lot of chaos and destruction; I barely escaped the ring of fire that was spreading. I could feel the murder of crows gathering in my mind, and I urged Scáthfile on.
A few minutes later, all fell silent, and we all regrouped. El had thankfully extinguished the fire with a barrier that sealed off the air – that would have been a travesty had it gotten out of control! Most of these trees are good, I can feel it.
The rest of our journey back to Windhall was less eventful. I got to know Ori a bit better – she's a darling, so sweet and kind.
As we approached Windhall, we noticed that the original walls were still there, but the houses sprawled out further than I remembered. It was still bustling with diverse peoples.
We headed straight for the Pestle & Poet – our inn that we had purchased in the city, the centre of our entertainment empire. Well, we were getting famous – even the nobles had started asking to hire us; we were good, Da.
The sign was still there, but… someone changed the name to the Pampered Peacock. Isn't that just horrible? They had dancers and music, but it was pretentious. Doilies and fancy frills, just… sad.
The new proprietress, Annabel, was quite snobby when she saw us, and I had to leave, I was just too emotional. This was proof – we are out of our time. I think my friends stayed inside a bit longer to try to convince them that we owned it, but I knew immediately that this was over.
Remind me not to get on Firia's bad side: she cast some of her Draoi magic – unsettling the foundations or something. It's not Annabel's fault – it's that necromancer's magic that ripped us out of our lives and legacy.
I'm not sure what to do, Da. I don't know that I have the heart to stay here – what if I put in all that effort again, only to lose it?
We need to make money… enough to leave this accursed continent. I need to know if you're alive, and Mam, and if anyone remembers me…
If there is a light you can't always see
And there is a world we can't always be
If there is a dark that we shouldn't doubt
And there is a light, don't let it go out…
Always your Iníon,
Maebh
