The Die Is Cast, The Characters Made, The Names Given, The Scene Set, The Master Story Teller Waits With A Curled Lip Smile As She Knows What Is To Come

The pain. By Siobhan Herself the Pain!

The pain spread in every direction, every fiber of his being was in agony, and yet it was a thing he knew he simply needed to push through somehow. He opened his eyes wide as the pain hot its crescendo and saw his Goddess before him, beckoning him, welcoming him home and back to where he always belonged, with her, for her. He opened his mind to speak to her, to ask her why it hurt so bad, but what came out was not words, not anything that even sounded like words.

It was a roar, a growl, an avian screech, a violent and dark noise that comforted him in its intensity even if he did not understand it. He tried again to speak and the sounds from his mouth got even louder, the air seemingly shaking around him as the sound moved through it. He did not know if he was going to be able to take any more pain. He was so strong, but there was a levy within that was about to be breached. One last noise exited the old Dara, a noise that was pain and agony, suffering and fear. Not his, no not his.

Even as the last sound exploded from him, Dara felt his arms move backward and fuse with the wings he wore proudly on his back. He looked down to the ground, so very far below him now and saw his feet and legs were mottled black and red, wider than the massive tree trunks he had run through and his entire body was covered in the same coloring, the same texture. Dara went to breathe out as panic set in and flame gushed from between his lips, a tornadic blast of wind and fire that shot thousands of feet in front of him and lit the sky up brighter than the sun with its intensity for a moment before fading to nothingness.

Panic vanished, the pain vanished, in fact, he who had been known as Dara vanished completely and BeithĂ­och lifted into the air with hundred-foot long wings and the mark of his Goddess emblazoned on his chest in the form of the all-seeing eye of amethyst. He leaned his head back, newly extended on a great neck and roared once more. In triumph, joy, love eternal for what he thought had just occurred. Just as he thought this his Goddess appeared to him again and held her hand out to him and waited for him to come to her through the ether of space, time and the very earth itself.

With a final roar that seemed to shake the sky itself, BeithĂ­och flew towards Her, his heart glad as the sky wrapped itself around him and tool him to her at last.


Neart laid down upon the heather soft grass of the field around her, covered in the wonders of the family she came from, climbing on her, in her. Her mouth lolled open to allow them to be one with her as she felt the surge from within her begin and she knew what was to happen. She did not know why she knew, but all that was happening was exactly as it should be.

Her legs started first, lengthening and turning a black pitch that reflected nothing and light seemingly vanished into. There was no time to appreciate as both of those long and perfectly legs split in twain starting at the feet and racing upward like a thunderbolt. Then again. And again. Eight legs there were now, each slowly turning into the void of the darkness of its mates. Her eyes closed, forever in the form they were in now and when she next opened them she had the two eyes she had, but besides them were six others that let her see things eyes could not. Heat, the depths of the earth, the wind blowing and the patterns in made in the sky. Tears leaked from them as the love of this newfound her took hold and she felt everything from her breasts downward swell, not in fat or in pregnancy, just growing with taut muscles and the skin mirrored her legs in their blackness.

An eternity, or was it a moment, later, she who was formally Neart stood tall on her eight legs, her head above the tallest of the trees and when she opened her eyes she saw the world in ways none save her Goddess could see. She stepped with the legs as if she had always had them and her family followed her, each of them taking the size of a small down to follow her at speed. She moved faster and faster, her legs stepping between the trees and her speed was violent and wonderful.

From eyes no one had ever had she saw Siobhan beckon her and without hesitation, she turned towards her and walked into the arms of the Mother Goddess of the Universe.

What is That Betwixt The Cupboard Door and The Darkness?

When you focus your eyes on a thing, you can push the entire universe out of the way to make sure you have the best possible view. It does not matter that there are places you should not look, things that should not be seen, if you look hard enough at the right places and at the correct times, all is open for you to witness. – Jacob Delacroix, Madness Papers, 1827


Josephine was an average girl in her own mind. She did not mean her looks or her intelligence, she cred not what other people thought of those things. What she cared for was the fact that she was not special enough to be one of those who Could See Between.

Her gran had told her stories of those people who could see the things in other places while never leaving the house and even those who saw the secrets that the Gods themselves would rather you not see. Gran’s eyes would oft go queer when she said that last part, her hands shaking with what Josephine had always assumed was the rigors of the old life.

Now she was not so sure at all.

She would speak to her of Siobhan in hushed tones as if the Faerie Dark Goddess might overhear her name being whispered among the cracklings of the yule log over winter break from studies. “She seeks She Who Wakes Early. She had sought her before the hills and dales had names to them lass. She has sought her ‘fore the sun and the moon danced forever in the sky, and the world was ruled by things that I daren’t say even in the light of the day.” She was silent a moment, composing herself it seemed. “Siobhan was to come first of all the creations. She was to rule the land and water, dark and light. She was to be the unifier of That Which Is. it was not to be, it is unknown who committed this first betrayal and woke the other first.” She mumbled a bit to herself in a combination of Gaelic and Welsh before continuing.

“Siobhan’s rage was devastating when it was revealed that she had been usurped. So great was her anger that she cursed the first one with a hex, I will not say even if I was to have St. Patrick himself at my side. It warped the first. It drove her mad with rage and hate. Her body contorted to the monstrosities of the world, yet all in one face. She can mask it fora time, but when her temper rises, when she is nearest her goal, you hear the truth of her words in that they are mangled and broken like glass in the mouth and blood pouring forth like a river. It is said that even now she roams the Earth looking for those who can lead her to Siobhan so that she might see her vengeance.”

“But granny, why wouldn’t Siobhan just come and meet her and destroy her if her anger was as bad as you say?” My gran would throw a small log from a stack my Grandad had cut and left by the side of her chair into the fire and wait for it to crackle before she went on, her voice now an authoritative one, matter-of-fact and cold.

“If She Who Wakes Early and Siobhan ever touch, even the most innocent brush from one to the other, all this: Her hands gestured in a sweeping circle.”All of the worlds would turn into the warped darkness that She who Wakes Early has become. That is her own revenge see. She was cursed by the Dark Goddess, ’tis true, but there was a catch. Ne’er could they ever come to one another for battle lest the world turns inside out and the darkness within each thing spill forth.” Her voice ended in a whisper, as did the story.

“Pray they never meet my sweet girl, pray that they never meet and we see what the true dark in the world might be.”