She felt like she was floating. Like gravity couldn't hold her. Darkness surrounded her so all-consuming that she couldn't tell if she had her eyes open or closed. She reached out, trying desperately to grasp onto something to anchor herself, but only open space met her hand.
It felt like she had been in this void for an eternity, floating through nonexistence, before the ground rematerialized beneath her feet. Gravity slammed back into her and she felt her bones rattle from the force, but she didn't stumble. By some miracle, she managed to stay standing.
Warmth burned across her eyelids, making her realize her eyes were indeed closed. It took far too much effort for her to peel them open and she was momentarily blinded by bright light when she did so. Squinting hard against the assault, she took a moment to let her eyes adjust, hand raised to her forehead to try and shade herself.
"You are finally here."
Ashling whipped around to look behind her, startled by voices but saw nothing. It was then she noticed that she was no longer in the clearing with the statue. She was in a wide-open area atop a hill. The wind whipped around her, speaking to how high up the hill must have been. The sun was warm and bright and all around her, rolling green hills rose and fell like waves in the sea.
There was no forest in sight, no fortress nearby, no village hum, and no Eoin. Panic ripped through her, stomach clenching. Where the hell was she? How had she gotten here?
Turning again to face the way she had been standing originally, she saw a small stone area in front of her. A perfect circle of stones was inlaid in the ground. They were small, almost like cobblestones, but much older. Atop this circle was an almost perfectly round rock, perched in the middle. Hypnotizing swirls and symbols were etched into its face, completely covering the stone. The markings were deep and darker than the rest of the rock, making them stand out proudly.
"You seem confused, little Druidess." Again the voices sounded, speaking as one, echoing around her. She spun around again, desperately looking around the hill for the source. "Over here…" Turning one more time, again to face the carved stone, she froze. A woman stood before her, one that had not been there a moment ago, but it was the woman's face that made her pause.
The young and serene look, the wavy hair, the proud stance. She was the woman of the statue, the Mórrígan. Cold fingers of fear gripped her heart and she wondered, irrationally, how far she could get if she ran. But then the knowledge that this was the goddess of war screamed its way back to the forefront of her mind, and she decided against that course of action.
"Do not fear," the woman said, her unearthly voice dragging a chill up Ashling's spine, "We will not harm you."
"Where am I?" Ashling asked, not daring to move. The woman shifted slightly to the side, allowing the carved stone to come into view once again. But her movement put Ashling straight back on the edge of panic.
The Mórrígan moved with grace, but after she moved, two other bodies appeared to be standing behind her, the second moving identically a split second after her, and then the third a second after that. It was like a choreographed dance, three beings moving as one. She couldn't make out the features of the two other figures, though she wasn't certain she wanted to. Everything about this woman screamed that she was not human, not of this world, and every fiber of Ashling's body knew it.
"Somewhere safe, for now," the voice that was many answered. That didn't answer her question at all, but Ashling couldn't find the courage to point that out. "I am sorry to pull you here, little one. But I needed to speak with you."
The Mórrígan turned to look at Ashling once more, moving slightly closer, her two choreographed companions following like before.
"There is darkness following you and you must be prepared," she said. "I could not reach you so far away before. But then, your warrior brought you to me."
"My warrior? Do you mean Eoin?"
"The very same."
Pushing aside the fact that Eoin wasn't her anything, she asked: "Why do you need to speak to me?" Ashling had so many questions that she thought she might burst. She was talking to an actual goddess. How is this her life?
"You are destined to do great things. But you are woefully unprepared for what is quickly closing in," the once peaceful look on the Mórrígan's face pinched into one of apprehension. Ashling thought that anything that made a goddess stressed, was something she needed to pay attention to. "The fáidh are closer than those of your garrán might choose to believe."
"Fáidh? What is a fáidh?" Ashling felt so out of her depth, that she might as well be drowning.
"Dark beings, skilled in seeing and blood magic," the Mórrígan lowered herself to the ground to kneel, Ashling quickly following after, not wanting to be disrespectful by remaining standing above the goddess. "They once lived alongside druids in peace and offered sacrifices to myself and my brethren. But soon, their sacrifices turned dark. They craved power and were jealous that, though they gave greatly to the gods, the druids had their ear."
What historical conflict didn't start with some sort of jealousy, Ashling wondered."To gain more powerful magic, they turned to blood sacrifice. First, they spilled blood to the earth in chalices and cauldrons, though they quickly turned to more extreme measures."
"Human sacrifice?" Ashling asked, horrified. She couldn't think of a darker form of magic, limited as her knowledge was.
The Mórrígan nodded solemnly. "The practice, done in the hopes of getting closer to the gods, did nothing but drive us farther away. The will of the gods and earth and spirits is not one driven by blood." Hearing this put Ashling at ease a bit. At least, it seemed, taking life was not a desire of this goddess.
"One god accepted their sacrifice and rewarded them with power, though it was one of darkness and sorrow. Arawn, the god of death and the underworld, sought to use the fáidh for his selfish gain and sent them to spread his plague." God of death? Ashling supposed she shouldn't be surprised. Most ancient religions had a god of death: Hades in Greece, Mars in Rome, and Hel in Norse mythology.
"Arawn's evil will continue to spread through the acts of the fáidh. Soon, the whole of the world will be dark. Druids are the only ones that can fight them using their magic from the earth to beat back the shadows. Though, they are fading fast."
The Mórrígan, who had been looking at the distant hills as memory overtook her, suddenly snapped her gaze back to Ashling. "Garráns across Gaul have already begun to fall to them. Untold numbers of druids dead. Soon, the dark will reach Inis Fáil. You are the last hope."
If Ashling had thought she had been in some sort of fever dream until now, everything suddenly felt very real. Inis Fáil was the ancient Celtic word for Ireland, and Gaul the name for that area that was now France, Germany, and other modern countries, all of which had been inhabited by Celts during the Iron Age. Very few people called it such anymore, though an ancient goddess would call it what she always had.
"What am I supposed to do? How can I stop them?" Doubt of her capability to do what was asked of her crept into her mind once again. A handful of days ago, she didn't even know magic was real. Now she was supposed to save the world somehow?
"You have more power than you know, little Druidess," the Mórrígan smiled gently at her, "you just need to learn to use it. I will help you as much as I can. When you sleep, you will be brought here to me. Together we will work to harness your power."
Ashling nodded her agreement to the proposal, though she doubted the option of declining was there. It made Ashling feel a bit better. What better way to learn her magic than by being taught by one of the most powerful goddesses out there?
"Be wary of those around you. The fáidh like to hide in plain sight. They will stop at nothing to end your life and snuff out the light you will bring to vanquish their darkness."
"How can I tell who I can trust?" Ashling wondered briefly if there was a fáidh detection method or something. That would be incredibly helpful. The goddess stood gracefully, her shadow companions also rising to their feet, and reached a hand for Ashling to accept, pulling her also to stand.
"Trust in your family, your brothers, and trust in your anamchara." Ash frowned at the new word, anamchara, confusion clouding her mind.
"My what?" she asked. The goddess laughed softly, the sound like the twinkling of bells in the breeze.
"Ask your warrior. He will tell you," she answered, again not answering anything.
"Speaking of Eoin, you didn't mention him in the list of trustworthy people." It wasn't a question so much as stating a fact. The Mórrígan hadn't mentioned Eoin, her warrior as she called him.
Again, the ethereal laugh spread across the hill. The goddess looked down at her newest charge, a twinkle of mirth in her eyes. "Didn't I?"
"No?" Ashling answered though it came out as more of a question than an assertion. Eoin was one of the very few people outside of her brothers that she felt she could truly trust at the moment. The thought that her trust had been misplaced bothered her.
"I am quite sure I did. Don't be frightened by what you feel, little one. Anamcharas are sacred and blessed. Embrace it with your whole heart. Embrace him." Ashling was now thoroughly confused…again.
"What does that mean? Embrace who?" The Mórrígan had turned away from Ashling now and was walking back to the carved stone, light laughter still ringing.
"Goodbye, for now, little Druidess. If we leave your warrior too much longer, he might tear all of my forests down out of worry." Her delicate hand reached for the stone, pressing the palm to the top. The carvings in the stone glowed with a gold light that soon seemed to fill all the space around them. And once more, Ashling felt like she was floating, before falling into the world once more.