Their horses were extremely tall, they made the trees in this enchanted forest look less towering. Sitting on the back of the saddle, the ground looked far away from that high up too. It was like being in the cab of a huge pickup truck. They were fast too. Niall had never seen horses that moved with such speed but felt so comfortable to ride on. Clydesdales were the biggest breed of horse Niall had ever seen, and these horses seem to be the same size as them while being much, much lighter on their feet. Their manes were shiny and glorious, like they were washed and cleaned in the purest spring water that could be found. Brigid was completely comfortable with the animal, she didn’t even have to pull on the reins to change direction, it knew where she wanted to go. Its coat was chestnut coloured and shiny. Its tail and mane were bright and white. Niall noticed that Lugh’s horse had shining blue eyes. They were like little oceans with waves crashing around in them. They were…hypnotising.
“So, what is going on here?”, he asked. “I’ve had some pretty long and vivid dreams before, but this is kind of ridiculous by this point.”
Brigid’s face told him that he had no idea what he was talking about. “I wish this was just a dream. In a way, it sort of is. But it’s not the kind of dream that you’re just going to wake up from”, her unblemished face started to look as if it was under pressure.
“What do you mean ‘just a dream’, of course it’s a dream, nothing here makes any sense”, he said, trying not to sound dismissive.
“Unfortunately for you, this place is very real, and this isn’t a dream. For you, well…it’s probably going to be a nightmare”, Lugh exposited, finally deciding to join in on the conversation.
“What does he mean?” Niall asked, looking at the side of Brigid’s face to see if he could gauge a reaction from it.
“He’s right, this isn’t a dream”, she sighed. “This is the Otherworld, our world, where we chose to reside after being driven from your world by man. You’re here because you’re in a coma and almost died. That’s why you were heading to Teach Donn, that’s where the dead go, to live in Donn’s house. It doesn’t actually mean ‘Brown House’, it means ‘the house of the dark one’. This is, what you would call, the world of Celtic mythology.” She gestured her hand to herself and Lugh, “we’re what you would call gods. Specifically, we were worshipped by the pagan Celts, Scottish ones, Welsh ones and Irish ones, like yourself.”
This really didn’t make any sense now. He was in a coma? When did that happen? He had been sick for a little while, but he hadn’t felt like he was dying. Now, he was being told that he was in a coma? That’s a major jump from having a bit of a dose and needing antibiotics. What had happened that landed him in a coma? Did he even believe that this was really going on? Was there a chance that this wasn’t a dream? It did seem to be going on for an awfully long time and seemed to be extremely vivid and clear. It definitely didn’t feel like a dream anymore, if anything, it was more of a nightmare, like Lugh said. So far, he had been chained, burned, dragged around, scared, marked for death, then told that he wasn’t actually marked for death at all and then told that he was walking around in the world of Celtic gods. It all seemed very far-fetched, unbelievable really, but it didn’t feel like he was asleep.
“I’m…in a coma? How did that happen? And why did I come here if that is the case? I was born and raised Catholic; I’ve never been a ‘Celtic pagan.’ None of this makes any sense.” Niall’s confusion was only growing with every convoluted explanation and slice of exposition he was getting.
Brigid looked back at him, the horse was directing itself again, comfortably too. “I know that this is all very confusing. People don’t necessarily go to the world or afterlife of the belief they were brought up in when they die or are near death. People actually go to the one that they’re most connected to, even if they don’t know that they’re connected to it. In your case, you’re more connected to our world than you are to the Catholic one. There’s a lot of people just like you. Some Scots, a few Welsh, tons of Irish. Think about it. You’re an Irish speaker. You spend a lot of time exploring forests, where the faeries live. You’ve played Gaelic sports as long as you’ve been alive. You’re handy, you can track and hunt. Everything about you screams Celt. Even now, we’ve been speaking as Gaeilge this whole time, it only sounds like we’re speaking English to you because we’ve been doing it naturally.”
“It’s getting dark. We should stop and make camp,” Lugh bellowed from behind. He was right, it was getting dark; the forest was still thick and becoming harder to see through. They found a small clearing and Lugh set up a campfire. “Niall, could you grab some twigs from the forest for firewood, le do thoil?” Lugh politely requested of him. “Take my torch from my saddlebag, it never goes out once you light it.” Niall obliged him, going out into the dark to find some twigs and sticks. The undergrowth crackled underneath his feet. Every step crunched, it was comforting, reminded Niall of Autumn in the forest back home, like he was out with his dad again, learning to track and hunt animals or collecting interesting insects. It was the first time since he’d been here that he hadn’t felt scared, confused or intimidated. It was very dark though, inky, obsidian even. The crunches of his feet were rhythmic until he heard a louder crunch. He froze. That wasn’t just leaves and twigs. A squeaky voice yelled at Niall, “hey, what the hell have you done?!”
By Owen Coyne
Taken to the Corner 