Chapter 1
May 1660
An Irish family was sitting down to eat their dinner. An aging father, a mother, who looked tired, and a young woman. Ready for more out of life. Each of them heard a crash. Then some shouting from outside.
“You know what to do,” her father said, as he looked at her mother. Giving her a look that spoke more than a few words could ever say.
“Moma,” the young woman asked. But it was soon ignored. As her mother grabbed her along with bread and a linen cloth. Taking her out of the room.
The young woman glanced outside. Only to see her father being run-through, with a pitchfork. As she started to hear people. “NO MAGIC HERE!” As they chanted on and on.
She cried, “No!”
Her mother pulled her away and shoved her into another room. Her parent’s room. Before a bag was shoved in her arms with lien wrapped bread.
“No, listen, Maeve.” Causing the young woman to blink. “You are an O’Sullivan. And you will succeed. In the bag is the family Grimoire, leading back to the Gaelic and Druids. Protect it with your life, Maeve.”
“Moma,” she tried to ask.
“No, there isn’t time, Maeve. Your grandmother foresaw this. It is on page one-nine-three. It will guide you from there.” Her mother kissed her forehead. Then rushed over to her bed and came back with the family pattern blanket and wrapped it around Maeve’s shoulders. “Go and know that I’m proud of you, my little dove.”
Her mother opened the window. Then she helped her down. Her mother had just closed it. Just as angry people came rushing into the room. Maeve could barely hear. But heard one man say, “Anne O’Sullivan, you will be trailed in front of the town for witchcraft.”
Maeve’s hands covered her lips, hiding a gasp. Her parents lived in the country for that reason. Both of her parents were magic users. As she was. She learned to hide who she was from an early age and never trust anyone.
“You will find no comfort in what you are doing, John Mac Roy. This is not, the steady hand to victory,” her mother hissed harshly. As she quoted, Maeve’s father’s family saying.
Maeve shivered, where she stood, in the shadows. Everytime they had gone to town. May, Roy had a look to kill, towards her father. A glance of longing, for her mother. As of lately, a planning eye, for his son and her.
She had told her mother this, more than once. All her mother said was that her father would stop it. Only to find half-truths and lies.
“Where is Maeve, Anne?” She could tell he was losing what little patience he had.
Causing Maeve to be pulled back into the moment, again.
“Gone!” Her mother spoke strongly. Sounding innocent.
“Let us try this again, witch.” Footsteps March closer towards her mother. Maeve not moving to even look at what was going to happen. “I ask again, where is your daughter, Maeve?”
“Not here,” her mother answered sharply.
A SLAP was sounded. Causing Maeve to tear up. “Sorry, moma,” she whispered softly, like a breeze.
“WHERE IS SHE!” The man roared at her mother.
“I DON’T KNOW, YOU SICK PARASITE!” In all of her years, she had never heard her mother yell like that before. Not until then. “You, I had said no to. But my David, my heart, spoke for me.”
“He is dead, Anne.” The man spoke sharply.
“But my heart is not.” Her mother’s words echoed with pain for the love of her father.
“Take her away,” the man growled out harshly. “And find me that girl!” She heard footsteps in her parents room. “I will find you, you little minx and you will marry my son, James. If you know, what’s good for you.”
Tears came down like rain, coming down Maeve’s cheeks. Her heart skipped a beat. Her throat felt like it wanted to close. Maeve had never felt hunted, like she did then. She had the bag in her arms, she leaned down and covered her face, preventing herself from screaming.
After a while, she fell down softly. She hid among the reeds, watching as those that came, reseed back into shadows of the night. Once she had heard that everyone had left. Maeve turned towards the southwest, knowing it would lead to another town. Farther from the one that hurt her family.
She opened her bag, then pulled the book out, and flipped the page that her mother had requested. One-nine-three, she was only happy for the full bright moon that night for her to read.
Maeve couldn’t believe her eyes as she read. Making her breathless. She had to go. Realizing it was her destiny. So with a heavy heart, she picked up her bag and left her home behind.
As she walked she remembered the words of her grandmother.
In lands where sunlit siestas gleam
A maiden fair pursed her dream
To Spain she sailed, where tales entwine
Of love, of magic, intertwined.
Beneath the olive trees so old
Where secrets lie in the tales retold
She sought a chance encounter grand
With love and magic hand and hand.
Through labyrinthine streets she’d tread
Where whispers spoke of dragon bred
A noble quest, a maiden’s plea
To find the heart that set her free.
In castles lost in time’s embrace
She met her love, with valiant grace
A dragon fierce, yet kind and true,
A soul entwined, their love anew.
So in the land where dreams dreams ignite
Her journey wove through day and night
In Spain, where magic’s whispers wove
She found true love and saved with love.
