Page 49 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
“Butaren’twe normal American children?” Ace asked.
“No, Acer, you’re not,” Uncle Neel declared. “You’re all part of an ancient mystical race known in our world as the Tuatha Dé Danann.”
My siblings mentally stumbled over the phraseourworld. I could sympathize, thinking Uncle Neel should’ve started by explaining other life-sustaining worlds existed in the universe.
Ignoring our stupefaction, Uncle Neel continued, “Translated, it means the Children of the Goddess, Danu. Now, there are many subsets of our species, but our Danann race is the most complex. We’re known here on Earth by many names—The Good Folk, The Fair Folk, The Golden Ones, andThe Auld Ones—but in our world, we simply call our expansive species fae.”
We froze because—what the hell had he been smoking?
Ace turned to me, sneering. “Is he saying we’refairies?”
Vi’s streaky face scrunched. “Like Tinkerbell?”
“Humans’ notions of us fae have drastically changed throughout time,” Uncle Neel answered. “But obviously we’re not thimble-sized—at least not Dananns—and we don’t fly around sprinkling dust on people. Although, somecanfly.”
“Your knowledge on Dananns is patchy,” Aunt Aylie assumed the tale. “We altered your lessons to conform to human cynicism. Excepting children, they rarely believe in magic now. Which, as you might imagine, makes living here challenging—more dangerous—for us. So, before us, fae hadn’t resided on Earth for centuries. We had extenuating circumstances, however.”
“Fairies used to live here before?” I asked, not ready to use the wordweyet.
“Long ago,” she answered. “We existed long before the Goddess Mother created this world. She tasked us with looking after the humans, with keeping order among them. We exerted Her powers, bestowed rewards and punishments as needed. We awed humankind with our magic, and many ancient civilizations worshipped us as deities. The Greeks, Romans, Norse, Celts, Egyptians, Native Americans—they all offered us adulation and love. I don’t think we have time to delve into the dynamics—” She glanced at Uncle Neel, whose mouth turned down in agreement. “But you should know that there’s an important link between mankind’s adulation and the strength of our powers.”
Vi shifted to gape up at our aunt. “DoIhave powers?”
“Most fae do,” was her cryptic response.
Briar’s eyes flicked to me. “Some more than others.”
My grip tightened on my siblings’ hands.
Aunt Aylie sighed. “Anyway, in the biblical era, some humans started calling us angels, depicting us as virtuous, saintly creatures—which we aren’t. We’re not infallible. Certainly not sinless. We’re more like the vengeful, self-interested gods and goddesses they once believed in. So, when we failed to live up to their ideals, they began associating our magic, prurience, and penchant for mischief with evil.
“But we’re no different than humans. Some of us are good, others bad. Although, some of us struggle with gluttony of the polar magics—opposing ends of the prismatum.”
We blinked, not comprehending.
“You’ll learn all about it some other time,” she said. “For now, just think of it as a magical spectrum—like a rainbow, but the colors change vertically, not horizontally, from lighter to darker. And spending too much time indulging in either of the poles is just like becoming hooked on drugs.”
Said so nonchalantly, my mind almost skipped over the easy danger she’d described. Almost.
“Anyhow,” she continued, ignoring my consternation. “The majority of us knows it’s best to follow Danu’s tenets for a fruitful life. Hers and her son’s.”
Uncle Neel had preached about Danu and her son many times at spirit circle. Finding out their religious parables were historical recountings was like discovering Paul Bunyan and his ox had truly created the Grand Canyon.
“You should remember her son from circle lessons,” Aunt Aylie remarked in the manner of a schoolmarm. “The Dagda—the All Father—the first Danann king. His descendants are still in power today.”
Good for them, but I wasn’t in the mood for a history lecture right then.
So, I almost groaned when Aunt Aylie cleared her throat and chronicled, “The Dagda had many children, including five sons: Aengus, Nuadu, Ogma, Cermait Honey-Mouth, and Boderg the Red—all of whom he loved just as any father loves his sons—even while knowing one of them differed greatly from his others.
“Cermait was a charming, handsome fae prince with a proclivity for greed, gluttony, and void magic—an addictive, corrupting polar magic—like a drug. Though the Dagda warned him against all these vices, Cermait couldn’t stop himself.
“When the Dagda grew weary of his time as ruler, he decided to split our realm between his sons, who’d govern the world and its people together. Aengus was granted reeveship of all the lands to the north—”
“Yes, yes,” I grumbled. “Where there was perpetual winter, and everything was covered in snow and ice. Can we get to the part of the story we don’t already know?”
Aunt Aylie glowered at my interruption.
“Amy, you need to hear this,” Uncle Neel chastened.
