Prologue

The Council of Magic

In the centuries leading up to the Council of Magic, war had ravaged the Celtic Isles, tearing at the seam of reality and mysticism that bonded the two in existence. Man’s reality knew very little about true magic, only scarce stories and small glimpses into that realm, leading to folklore and legend. Myths and figments stayed hidden in the shadows and were carried on whispers for generations passing from father to son and mother to daughter. The war for power grew too vast in the eyes of the council and a truce was needed.

This final meeting of the Council of Magic was recorded in the scrolls of Corways, Kingdom of the Leprechauns:

Last Meeting of the Council of Magic

Port Heggles, Scotland, August 9, 1732

In attendance:

1) King Duncan, Leprechauns

2) Queen Usis, Merrows

3) King Wardicon, Sidhes

4) Kleig, Spirit Representative (Overseer of Council of Magic)

5) Conchar, Wizard Noble

Kleig – The meeting will now commence.

(Without much waste the others quickly quiet themselves.)

Kleig – Duncan, would you be so kind as to begin our meeting?

(Duncan rises to his feet; he remains in his Leprechaun stature.)

Duncan – Thank you, Kleig. I am very happy to see that each of our kingdoms is represented here today. As you know, our struggle for power and position has left us all in poor shape and with diminished numbers.

Usis – ‘Tis true! We are driving each other to extinction.

Wardicon – Aye. But how can we resolve our squabbles in a satisfactory way?

(Conversations begin, too many and too fast for this scribe to record!)

Duncan – I am posing the idea of a treaty.

Conchar – A treaty? That is your solution?

Duncan – It is. This fighting has gotten us nowhere. Our kinds are dying and the humans are… well, the humans are advancing.

Kleig – Advancing is one way to put it.

Conchar – The humans were the reason we began fighting in the first place, lest we forget.

Usis – Their ships are ruining my waters!

Conchar – They are barbarians!

Duncan – Regardless, they are now a force in our world and it has become increasingly difficult to conceal ourselves and our battles.

Wardicon – Duncan is right. If we continue as we are, we will surely be discovered and that would mean constant harassment from the humans. None of us could withstand that for long.

Duncan – My recommendation is to go into hiding. Preserve what little we have left and live in peace.

(Conversations again break out, mumbled and stressed.)

Usis – ‘Tis agreed upon by the Merrows. We choose to hide ourselves and preserve what’s left of us to live in peace.

Wardicon – The Sidhe’s will do the same.

Conchar – Wizards and witches have no desire to hide!

Duncan – I think you had better. Do you not remember the witch hunts and stake burnings?

Conchar – Of course I remember that injustice! Had I but been there, the human retelling would have had a much different ending.

Kleig – I don’t suspect that you wish to subject your kind to that sort of tyranny again.

Conchar – No, I do not. We will live among the humans, for hiding ourselves cannot be done easily.

Kleig – Then it is decided?

(The gathered concur.)

Kleig – This is the last meeting of the Council of Magic. Our kinds will remain to themselves. The bickering ends and preservation begins. Good luck to you all.

(The Council disbands and members go their separate ways.)

…

Conchar watched the other members of the Council vanish, fly, or spirit away before he walked to his carriage. His red-eyed doorman opened the door and lowered the step for his master. Conchar nimbly climbed in and took a seat across from his apprentice. The young witch waited patiently for her master to speak.

“The fools are giving our world over to the humans, Morna.” Conchar removed his gloves with disdain on his face. “We are expected to hide amongst them, never revealing our true selves.”

“Why would they agree to such stupidity?” asked the dark-eyed witch eyeing the hilt of a dagger peeking out of Conchar‘s cloak.

“I think they are tired of the fight.” The carriage lurched to a start and slightly jostled the occupants. “It is our own fault, I suppose.”

“The others are weak, master. Perhaps we should mount our own uprising. We have the means, after all.”

Conchar held up his hand. “Patience, my eager apprentice.” Conchar peered out through his curtains absentmindedly fingering the dagger. “Be wary of what you say, Morna. Our enemies have ways of hearing. But do not feel downtrodden, the time of retribution will come.”

The carriage rolled down the worn path intent on reaching the Black Forest before first light.