Killarney, Ireland, 1840Kian O'Braonain was the best friend anyone in the world could ever have. He could run as fast as lightening, climb like a cat, and hit a bird with a stone from twenty yards. While Aaron seldom had a chance to play with his friend now that he was older and had more responsibility, his Ma usually didn’t mind if he walked home with Kian after mass, and the boys would spend several hours running around the base of Torc Mountain, tossing stones in the lake, or running through the village scaring the chickens and the cows.Today was a bit different. Last night, there had been several taken from various homes around Killarney, and though the village was rather large as such towns went, the numbers were starting to dwindle. Not only were people being taken in the night by the Dark Ones, rumor had it that some of those who had been claimed were members of the Order, ones that were supposed to be left alone according to the agreement. Aaro

Killarney, Ireland, 1846Aislyn was standing next to the well, the one that most townsfolk used to water their animals when they were out on the commons as her family’s sheep were now. Though he had no animals and no reason to be congregated near the watering hole, he realized he was approaching, and there was nothing he could do to prevent himself from doing so.At fifteen, she was just as lovely as ever. Her hair was longer still, and she almost always wore it in a single braid down her back, though he still liked it best free and billowing in the wind. She had the loveliest green eyes and the kindest smile. Her porcelain skin looked soft and creamy, and though he’d never run the back of his hand down her cheek, he’d imagined doing so would feel like touching fine silk linen.He’d taken to speaking to her whenever he could, and he was beginning to think perhaps she fancied him, though he knew she couldn’t be nearly as fon

The fiddler had been joined by a drummer and harpist, and the first song was a joyful jig. As they began to do the steps together in sync, the rest of the dancers melted away, and Aaron found himself entranced by those green eyes and jubilant smile. The touch of her hand, the feel of her in his arms, the way she twisted and turned, had him completely enthralled, and as the night wore on, he wondered why he had never attended the cross-roads before. Aislyn was an angel, floating around him on gossamer wings, and he felt as if he were the luckiest lad in all of Ireland, perhaps the world, to have the honor to be her partner for the evening.Though others had tried to come betwixt them, the only time they left each other’s side was when the set called for it, and even then, Aaron kept his eyes interlocked with hers, only losing sight of her in a turn now and again. There were other young men who clearly had their eyes on the lithe beauty, but he was certain now that Aislyn

The walk home shouldn’t have been long, but he was reveling in his thoughts and the memory of her body pressed against his. It was almost impossible to believe that Aislyn had agreed to marry him. How had he become so fortunate to have the most beautiful lass in the world as his own?Soon enough, he found himself standing outside of his own door, and he realized he was also quite lucky that nothing had snuck up on him out of the shadows as he made his way home since he was paying absolutely no mind to his surroundings and would have been an easy target should anything, earthly or other worldly, chosen to claim him.He was still soaring when he quietly opened the door. However, he needn’t thought of disrupting his family members’ sleep, as all three of them were up, and clearly something was not right. Genty sat in a chair near the unlit fireplace, her mother on the floor beside her, holding her hand while Granddad stood behind her, his hands pressing

There were a few locations in town where one might seek out knowledge, but the best place was the tavern, and so they decided to try their luck there. Despite the early hour, the doors were open, and more than a few citizens gathered inside, their complaints and worries reaching the ears of the newcomers before they’d fully stepped inside.Many spoke of the rotten potatoes, how there was no end in sight, how the Englishmen refused more than a token show of help, and how the Irish were left to starve or forced to move away. Only a few hinted at the rising death toll in the village attributed to the others, and no one dared speak those words. One man, who’d clearly been there for quite a while, was crying about the death of his son just a few days earlier, and while his friends attempted to console him, it was the mead that began to quiet him after some time.“There’s nothing that can be done, then, to save the crop?” Kian was asking a group