Meadhbh

See now her eldest,

swathed in red,

with eyes like stars shot

through her head.

With eyes that pierce the ancient mire

no enchantment spare

and no future hour

no mystery shall be left whole

her eyes do see

what she cannot know.

1:

The Seer:

The ocean was slowly gathering the weary silver moon into its watery embrace, and the quiet stars were digging their own graves in the dark promise of a cold predawn light when she was at last released to her own senses. A drier horizon had fully welcomed the homecoming of her own moon, and the green-gold light gathering softly in the Eastern window caused her a moment of distinct distress.

It can be discomforting to reflect that though twilight might be fading above our own heads, there is at the very same instant, a place on the earth where night is full and dark. Lingering too long upon the thought can even be deeply disturbing. Yet, to witness the fact, to see the moon setting in the Pacific Ocean, and the sun rising from the New York harbor, and know that you have passed only a matter of seconds can inspire a disorientation that is almost an illness.

She knew she must not allow herself to succumb, and she forced herself to sit up, pushing back the covers. She slid out of her bed and moved slowly, unsteadily across the neat room, until she could collapse, relieved, into the chair at her desk. She propped her elbows on the desktop to support her spinning head, struggling to collect her thoughts, to reestablish an understanding of her voluntary muscular system.

Distance yourself. What you saw took place under the moon in Oregon, you are under the sun in New York. So what? Would it trouble you to have witnessed 3 am last Tuesday? No. Why? Because the setting has no importance. What you saw was not about the sky.

What she had seen. Without looking up she took from a shelf within the hutch a large, leather-bound book which, set on its spine, opened to reveal a page half full of heavy, calligraphic writing. From a small left-hand drawer she took a slender silver pen, which she uncapped and proceeded to stare at for a long while. Finally, she gave a soft sigh, and began to write.

1st, October, 2004
Approximately 6:45 am
After a sleepless night, I was taken in my bed by a vision. It was sudden onset and lacked a disoriented gate, so that I knew it was not a foresight, and that it would most likely concern matters or persons well known to me.
For a long while I saw nothing but the night. There was a bright moon low in the sky, I could see it falling into the water. I was viewing from a cliff overlooking the ocean. Presently, I became aware that I was not alone. Onagh was beside me, smiling at me. I supposed, rightly, that I must be standing with(in) her husband. She spoke to me.
Belovèd, we are finished here. Can we return home now? I heard the whine in her voice. They have had this conversation many times.
Of course, Onagh, you have always been free to return home. But... that is not what you meant. Yes, I will return to New York with you, and yes, I may even stay a little while. I have questions to put to your sister. I have reason to believe I am being hunted again, she will know if it is true.
She squeezed her eyes, You only ever come home with me to see Meadhbh. One'd think you'd married her.
Do not be foolish, Onagh. I love you. Meadhbh is a good woman to know, for she knows many things. You are my wife, and you are of my own breed - a hero.
That was all. He has too much faith in me, this is the first I've seen of he or Onagh in months. I did not even know they'd found themselves a task, or that they were on the continent. I must meditate on him, and his hunters, at some point today. I should hate to disappoint my most faithful believer.

Meadhbh closed the book, and sighed. She would hate to disappoint him, in anything. He and Onagh were the only heroes she knew, and she struggled to support them in all their efforts. She hated those who hunted him, too... but these were matters for a later hour, she needed to try to sleep, if only for an hour. She stood, stretched, reshelved the book. As she settled herself in her bed, wrapping the crimson covers all about her, she reflected that it was odd that Onagh should love a hunter like him at all.