The Druid

Chapter 9

The Isle of Skye was a land of stone. The cliffs were high, the hills higher, and trees were far and few between. Alan spotted a hawk, a familiar bird, but he was wrong. Maggie explained that the bird was a subspecies of falcon called Merlin. She said it was a long story, and Alan believed her. There were plenty of other birds, but none caught his eye like the Merlin. Although this land was vacant of people, the critters weren't skittish. He saw his first mink ever, an animal he had only heard about back home. Maggie said there were black foxes that had ancestors in the Druid world. But they were very rare and only allowed themselves to be seen when they chose to.

Overall, it was a bare land, with little to showcase, yet Alan found it magical. There was beauty in its nakedness. The high cliffs that overlooked the moving sea reminded him of the Strip and perhaps he understood why the Strip was always so special to him: it was because, in actuality, the Strip was similar to the Isle of Skye, a piece of his homeland. A piece of his history. He soaked it all in.

"There's much to explain," Maggie said, as they walked. She had yet to explain where they were going. "Too much for me to say now. Save your questions for another time." She abruptly stopped walking and stared into the distance, before moving forward again. "In Celtic history, the Druids were bards, nomadic scholars, scientists, royal advisors, and so much more. They were a class of prestigious men and women."

"A great, unstoppable power swept through Great Britain in the 7th century," Maggie continued. "It was Christianity, the movement initially led by Augustine of Canterbury. It was not his intent to shame the Celtic or Druid way, or cast stones at their traditions. His attempts to convert were respectful and sincere. It was after his death that the Christian priests began labeling the Druids as heretics and pagans. Slowly, their numbers dissipated, until they were reduced to a secret society, who would only reveal themselves in old villages, where the traditional roots ran deep." Alan went to speak, but Maggie cut him off with a hand, which was incredible because she had her back turned to him. "I tell you this for clarification purposes only. These Druids were simply men and women with superior education and wisdom. They are not the same as us. History believes us, the sons and daughters of the Tuathe Dé Danann as mythology."

"Except my father," Alan mumbled.

Maggie nodded.

A white rabbit slashed across the land at the same time a crow alighted to a stone a few yards ahead. It stared at the group with one obtrusive eye, as it croaked. The noise made Alan suddenly conscious of how fast the sun was setting and the darkness was rising. He wished she would explain where they were going.

"Who were the real Druids, then?" Will asked. "I'm assuming magical men and women, such as you and Alan, but I'm asking about the identity as a whole organization. What was your role in Celtic history?"

"We were the sons and daughters of the Tuathe Dé Danann, and, as I said, they were an ancient race from another land," Maggie answered. "In the beginning, our only true enemy was the Fomorians. We defeated them time and time again, until this land was ours. In exchange for protection, humans allowed us to rule and govern."

Alan felt uncomfortable at the reference of "humans." The idea that he wasn't human was perverse.

"We governed their societies, provided aid in times of famine and drought and disease, and extended our ears and eyes during their prayer," she explained. "But we lived separately. Although some of us chose to live in the Surfaceworld among the shepherd and the sheep, our society dwelt in the Otherworld, under the hills. Another name for the Otherworld is the 'Burrows.' That is where we are going now."

The sun was minutes from setting. Alan regrettably watched the orange glow fade as he climbed the massive hill. The silhouettes of the distant hills and stones were merging into one black shape, giving Alan the illusion of a dancing shadow. This may be the land of his ancestors, but it was still creepy at night. Standing at the summit, all but Maggie caught their breath. Either it was starting to rain lightly or the wind was carrying droplets from the sea.