Tuatha De Danann- Cauldron of Dughda

Chapter one- Rhoswen's Point of View

Have you ever thought of how you’d die? I have. Death by fire is supposedly the most painful, having your flesh burned off of you. To have the fire fry your nerves and vaporize your brain. Second I guess would be drowning. The panic of feeling your lungs filling with water.  But I guess once your body used up the oxygen it’d be just like falling asleep.

                Now just because I think about death doesn’t mean that I want to die. I just feel that you should think about all the possibilities of life. For instance I always figured that when I died it would be a quiet event. That I’d pass away quietly at night with my loved ones around me. Never did I think that my death would be violent. But I guess that’s what happens when your immortal.

                I wasn’t always immortal. I guess I should start with telling you my name. My names Rhoswen Bannon. In case you don’t come from a Celtic background my first name means ‘white rose’ while my last name means ‘white’. Guess I was cursed from a young age to be pale. My hair is so light that it almost looks white. My eyes are the palest blue and my skin is so pale that people are always asking me if I am sick.

                I was born in Roscrea, Ireland and lived there until I was 4. Just before Christmas of that year my dad had come home to find that my mother had committed suicide. After that my father just couldn’t stand living in the same house so we moved to Canada with my grandmother. We spent a few months in Halifax Nova Scotia before we moved to Ingonish beach on Cape Breton Island.

                We’ve lived here ever since. I finished high school at the top of my class before I went on to get my folk lore degree, along with a diploma in Agriculture. When I came back home I got a job at the Cape Breton Highland National Park.  I still lived with my dad and my grandma in our ocean side home.

                In fact the ocean was the first thing I noticed when I woke up on that beautiful Friday morning. The smell of the ocean lured me to window where I could see it from. I had lost count of how many times I’d stand there and just watch the ocean, watching ships, fog or whales from that window was my favourite part of any day.

                The sound of a soft growl below my window caught my attention causing me to look down. Down below me sat a very large black wolf staring up at me. The wolf was pure black except for a jagged line of white hairs down his left foreleg. He just sat there staring up at me, his large tongue hanging out of his mouth.

                I closed my eyes to take a deep breath in order to yell down at my dad and grandma to not go outside. When I opened my eyes again the wolf was gone. Not only was it gone but it looked as if it had never been there. There wasn’t so much as  a paw print to hint that he had in fact been there.

                Chalking the event up to my eyes playing a trick on me I turned back to my room and proceeded to get ready for work. Once I was dressed I headed down stairs and into the kitchen where my dad was sitting and reading the weekly paper.

                “Morning dad” I said as I walked over to the counter and poured myself a cup of coffee.

                “Morning Rhoswen, how are you doing this morning?” he asked as her turned the page.

                I paused for a minute, wondering if I should tell him about the wolf. Deciding against it I just said that I was doing fine.

                “Well that’s good. Anything exciting going to be happening at work today?” he asked pretending not to care but I knew he did. He was proud that I was doing something that I enjoyed.