Cian's head was pounding. All the stress and exhaustion (and falling through the sky) of the day before had left its mark. The walls of the hallway around him seemed to throb in time with his temples, making his vision swim. By the time he had somehow made it back to the main hall, walking felt almost impossible. He spied his brothers through squinted eyes and collapsed into one of the high-backed chairs next to Declan, plopping his head onto the table in front of him with a groan.
He heard Declan shift in his chair, turning to face him. Seamus, who sat across from Declan looked curiously at his older brother as well, though he continued to stuff obscene amounts of food from the platters in front of them into his mouth.
"Everything ok, Cian?" Declan asked, placing his hand on Cian's shoulder in a silent show of support.
"Migraine," Cian managed to get out between gritted teeth. He didn't want to talk, see any form of sunlight or do anything other than maybe go back to bed. The only reason why he wasn't still there was that he feared that Eamon would go looking for him in his room.
He wasn't avoiding Eamon, per se. He just needs some time to sort out the jumbled mess that was in his head. Eamon confessed to being his soulmate. And then kissed him. And then they walked into Dun Croí as if nothing happened before going off on their separate ways at Cian's door. It left Cian feeling like he was on uncertain ground and he just needed some time and space to try and sort out what it was he was feeling. And maybe he was hiding just a little.
Declan sighed next to him, squeezing his shoulder slightly before letting go. Cian got quite a few migraines after particularly emotional days. Sometimes when it wasn't even him that was emotional. Cian just seemed to pick up on other people's stress and it would physically affect him. The only thing to do at this point is to let it run its course.
"Everything alright, boys?" All three of the McCoubrie men jumped at the sudden voice that appeared behind Declan and Cian. There, standing as stoically as she had the day before, was Maire.
Declan, still upset about the revelations of the day before, simply huffed and focused back on his breakfast, steadfastly ignoring his newly acquired grandmother. Cian groaned and replaced his head on the table. Seamus, with his persistent need to be the most likeable person in any situation, replied with a polite "Yes, ma'am."
Maire's one eyebrow lifted in disbelief, eyes narrowing and she scanned her three grandchildren before focusing solely on Cian. The second oldest, if she remembered correctly. She had truly been shocked when her granddaughter, the one that they had been waiting for for over thirty years, had shown up with three older brothers in tow. She had never in her wildest dreams expected anything more than the prophesied child, a fact that she felt a bit ashamed of now.
Focusing back on Cian, she noticed he looked quite ill. Pale skin, eyes pinched closed in pain, head laying on the table as if any movement was simply too much for the man. "You're unwell. You look awful." Her tone was not one of a question, simply stating facts.
Cian managed a scoff that made ever-surly Declan proud before forcing his head off the table, his body out of his chair and turned to head back up the far too many stairs to his room, completely ignoring the older woman staring after him. "You know, you could probably get rid of the migraine in mere moments if you truly wanted to," Maire called after him.
Cian paused, debating whether engaging with this woman was truly worth it. However, it was his curiosity that won out over his need for quiet.
"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" He turned back to face his grandmother, her face still a mask of composure, though he could just barely see the relief in her eyes that he answered her. Maybe, she just didn't know how to interact with them. Maybe she was trying.
"Your mother, Elodie," Maire began, taking a few steps closer to Cian, "was one of the greatest healers I have ever seen. She was incredibly empathic and could feel others' pain, whether it was physical or emotional. I would bet anything that you inherited that ability from her, hence your migraines. You get them often, don't you?"
She was right. Cian got these horrendous headaches all the time. At least once or twice a week, depending on if he was working or not. Being around large crowds of people at a job made the chances of one much greater. This was part of the reason that he never lasted at one job for too long.
"Healer?" Declan's gruff voice growled out. He had turned in his chair so he was facing the scene between Maire and his brother. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said," Maire sniffed, arms crossing in a dignified show of annoyance. "Did you ever feel ill growing up? Ever have a scrape or bruise?"
The three McCoubrie men thought hard. Now that she mentioned it, they never were sick or injured when they were kids. Seamus remembered when he started to feel like he was getting the flu during his 9th-grade year of high school.
He had so many projects and papers due he had just pushed through and didn't tell anyone he was feeling ill. He had been hunched over his work at the kitchen table one evening when his mom walked in, stopped next to him, and eyed him over once before placing her hand on his forehead and swiping his curly bangs from his eyes. This was a gesture of comfort she did for him all time and he thought nothing more of it. The next morning, he woke up feeling a million times better out of nowhere. He had thought that he had just gotten over the illness quickly. It made sense now that his mother played a role in his quick recovery.
"No, we were never sick. Not until after…" Seamus trailed off, unable to bring himself to say the words: not until after they were dead.
"That was her magic. Her family has been our healers for generations. They have always had the strongest healing magic in all of the Irish garráns."
Declan suddenly had a thought. "Does she have any family left? Any other relatives who never bothered looking for us?"
Maire flinched, feeling his anger through his words, as deserved as they were. "No," she answered. "Her parents passed when she was a teenager and she had no siblings. The Dunnes were good people."
All three boys deflated a little. Even though they were angry with Maire, they had been relieved to hear that they had some sort of family left. They had hoped that maybe it meant that there would be more.
Sighing, Maire dropped her arms from where they had been crossed. "I know you have questions. And I know that you are cross with me at the moment. However, I would like a chance to explain myself. Would you let me do that?"
Maire looked all three of her grandsons in the eyes. She could see them considering her words carefully, thinking everything through. It was so much like her son, Niall, that her heart clenched as grief passed through her for a brief moment. Now was not the time to be thinking about that.
Seamus was the first to start nodding, agreeing to hear her out. Declan, too, started nodding his agreement as well, though he still looked as untrusting as ever. It was Cian who took the longest to answer, looking straight into her eyes. It was as if he was scouring her soul for any sign of deception or malice. In due time, however, Cian also agreed.
Relief washed through Maire. She had a chance to make things right. "Grand," she said, more chipper now that all that unpleasantness was out of the way, at least temporarily. "Now then, let's work on getting that migraine gone."
"I don't even know if I have magic," Cian mumbled, wholly unconvinced that this would work.
"There is no hurt in trying," Maire clipped, moving to pull Cian's previously occupied chair out from the table and gesturing for him to return to it. "Better you be sitting down for this. First bouts of magic can be quite tiring."
Declan, Cian and Seamus had seen that firsthand, all of them thinking back to Ash's outburst of magic during the shadow monster attack. They all remembered how exhausted she had been afterward.
Reclaiming his seat, Cian fidgeted a bit, unsure of what would come next. What if he didn't have magic? Would Maire be disappointed in him? Would his siblings? But, what if he did have magic? What would that mean for him? Would he have to stay here forever?
It also didn't escape him that if he did have magic, he would have pretty concrete proof that what Eamon said about being his anamchara would be true. That was something that he still wasn't sure what to do with.
"Now, what I want you to do is to close your eyes and focus on your pain. Picture it is a ball of thread that is all tangled together," Maire said, sounding every bit the teacher and leader that she very clearly was.
Cian followed her directions, closing his eyes and focusing as hard as he could. He could picture the ball of thread, bright gold all tangled upon itself. The image in his mind seemed so real, almost like if he reached out his hand, he would be able to touch it.
"In the middle of the ball, I want you to picture a portion of the thread that is stained black. That is your headache. You need to untangle the ball to get to the black part. Picture yourself physically moving the strands to straighten the thread out."
The tumbled mess of thread he saw in his mind began to move, strands moving this way and that. Slowly and carefully, he worked through the tangles and knots until finally a dark black stained portion of the thread was exposed to him. It throbbed in time with the pain in his head, the black stain spreading as time went on.
"I found it," Cian mumbled quietly, still focused on the image in his mind.
"Good," Maire commended. "Now, this is the tricky part. You need to wash the stain out. Feel your magic flow through you like running water, cool, clean, and clear."
For a moment, Cian panicked. How do you feel magic that you aren't even sure is there? A split second after that though clattered around his mind, he felt something he never had before. Staring at his toes, it felt like he was sinking into a pond. The sensation of cool water rising against his legs before continuing until he felt fully submerged.
He thought that this feeling should be scary, but all he felt was peace and calmness. In his mind's eye, he saw the water encompass the ball of thread and the dark stain seeped out of it before disappearing into the calm waves of his power. And that was what he was feeling. Powerful in a way that was both reassuring and shocking.
As the black stain disappeared into the waves of his mind, so too did his migraine. The pain eased and eased until only the faintest memory of the headache was left. Cian let out a sigh of relief as he finally felt back to his normal self.
Opening his eyes again, he turned to face his grandmother. "It worked! The pain is gone!" Declan and Seamus shared a look amongst themselves in disbelief. They were so sure that it wouldn't happen. They both had never so much as felt a spark of magic, just as Cian had said as well, and yet here was proof that maybe they too had some hidden power inside them.
Maire, for her part, simply smiled at Cian before placing a hand on his shoulder. "I told you it was there. You simply need to learn how to access it. I have a feeling you will be just as remarkable at healing as your mother was."
Cian felt pride warm his chest. "Do you think so?" he asked. His mother was his hero. She was always there for him when he needed someone to talk to. She had a quiet grace and strength that made her seem so confident in herself, a quality that Cian always wished he had.
"I have never, seen someone take to healing magic with such natural ability as you just demonstrated, Cian. Not even Elodie," Maire explained. "Most students take several attempts to get it right the first time."
Cian grinned up at her, the tension in his shoulders leaving and a bit of the Cian from back home seeping to the surface. For the first time since all this nonsense began, he felt a bit more like he belonged here.
Maire cleared her throat before turning to address the other two men at the table as well. "Now, should we find your sister from wherever my wayward warrior has taken her and get started with training?" Declan was about to ask where the hell Eoin (because who else could she be talking about) had disappeared with Ashling but was interrupted when the main door to the keep was pushed open, revealing the two people in question, both looking a bit worse for wear.
Declan stood quickly, moving to his distressed-looking sister. "What the hell happened," he growled, moving as if to grab Eoin by his collar. Eoin, for his part, ignored the mass of McCoubrie anger that was barreling towards him. Instead, he keep Ashling tucked close to his side, arm around her waist, he looked to Maire.
"We have a problem."