Isle of the Faeries

September 1st

The Sidhe mentioned in this chapter:

Pooka: They take the form of a large dark horse with glowing eyes that reflect yellow in the dark, they are primarily out after dark and are malevolent to humans.

Formorians - Sea monsters, that have grotesquely misshapen bodies which look as if they have been haphazardly thrown together with the leftover parts of assorted animals. They are malevolent towards humans. 

Breena

      I've been told by many that Teelin is small and I suppose to the rest of the world it is, but to me it has always been enough. I have always had my family; the Rowans, my mum, my dad, my older brother Declan and our baby sister Fiona who really isn't a baby anymore. We had our little house and farm and each other, we kept to ourselves – the next house was in Rell nearly a mile away – and tended our livestock. I grew up on fields that seemed to go on forever, cliffs over the water and adventure in the air, I was always in trouble for my curiosity but nothing could dull it. What we had was always enough, for me and for my family; that is until it wasn't.

      Though we are all aware that the start of September brings danger with it, October thirty-first is the most dangerous day of all. It was on that day last year that my mum took a bit too long feeding the sheep. My brother, my sister and I were not allowed out on the thirty-first but the curiosity that had led me astray as a child had me peering out the windows all day. I was still peering out the window when I should have been setting the table for dinner, I was still looking when the large equine shape of a Pooka grabbed my mum from behind, and stood frozen watching as it dragged her away faster than should have been possible. We knew we'd never see her again. Those that the Pooka take are never seen again, it is part of living on the island. It was then that we turned out to be not enough for my father.

      My father broke. The strong farmer who could wrestle a bull and plow the fields shattered before us. I am still not sure what scared me more, my mother's abduction or my father's self-destruction. Three days later Declan found the note on the counter. He was headed for the United Kingdom, he wasn't coming back. We weren't enough anymore. That afternoon the boat he was on sank in a Formorian attack; he should have waited to leave until the Fey had settled for the winter.

      Today is September first, the start of the Tráth of the Fey. The sun is just peaking over the fields to the east, the morning is brisk and the dry grass rustles in the wind. My hands are chilled in the cool morning air and I can see the foggy hint of my breath, the cold comes fast on the island. I wish I could curl up by the fire with toast and tea but there is work to be done. The animals need to be fed, the cows have to be milked, I have a fence to mend before I can turn out Caleo – my mare who decided it would be great fun to break down the boards yesterday.

     Declan is already in the barn when I get there. It is not a large barn by any means, but it holds our three cows, my horse and when autumn comes around the sheep and chickens get crammed into the mix as well for their own good. Declan is already milking the cows, he gives me a half asleep smile in greeting and continues his work. I tip Caleo's feed into her tub, rubbing her red shoulder as I step out of the stall. Next on my mental list is the sheep, we have fifteen head of sheep we keep for wool and lamb crop, their field is the closest to the barn at the moment to make it easier to get them in before nightfall.

     By the time the sheep are fed and watered and Caleo's paddock is fixed and the eggs are collected, Declan has the cows milked and out. All of the milk and most of the eggs are going into town today to sell, though much of the island farms the connections that my father made are still strong enough that we can easily sell our product. The only thing keeping the farm going is routine, years of watching and helping our father run the place. We had to sell the pigs and bull right off but we have kept what we could and bring the milk and eggs to Iron Bells, the pub in Rell and the lamb crop to the butcher same as always.