Forgotten Hollow
Near the O’Cavanaugh residence
The moon hung low, casting an ethereal glow over the quiet, mist-shrouded forest. The tall, ancient trees swayed gently as if whispering secrets to one another, their leaves rustling in the cool night breeze. Gwydion approached Fiona’s family home, known as Clannad Keep, his long, flowing cloak brushing against the dew-kissed grass. The Gothic Revival style residence stood imposing, with pointed arches, steeply pitched roofs, and ivy-covered walls. The dark, ornate ironwork and flickering lanterns added to the eerie beauty of the place, a fitting home for descendants of a powerful vampire lineage.
Gwydion’s deep, dark gaze, framed by long, wavy raven-black hair, exuded an aura of power and unwavering determination. Despite the risks, he ventured into Forgotten Hollow, a place where magic occult like himself could be captured or killed on sight, knowing he was risking his life for Fiona’s comfort. His heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and trepidation as he stood before the imposing, ivy-covered doorway. Gwydion’s presence in this vampire-exclusive territory highlighted how far he had come since his initial cold darkness, a testament to the profound change brought about by his love for Fiona.
With a deep breath that fogged the chill air, Gwydion raised his hand and knocked. The door creaked open slowly, revealing Damon, Fiona’s younger brother. His purplish eyes widened in surprise and suspicion as the flickering light from the porch lamps danced across his face.
“What do you want?” Damon demanded, his stance tense and wary.
“Good e’en, young Damon,” Gwydion intoned with a slight bow, his voice echoing with age and wisdom. “I seek an audience with thy mother, Lady Emmy. It concerneth Fiona and her well-being.”
Before Damon could react, his parents, Emmy and Connell, appeared behind him. Connell’s eyes, a distinct purplish hue, blazed with anger at the sight of Gwydion, while Emmy’s expression remained calm and curious. Her youthful, gamine appearance, framed by somewhat shaggy light golden blonde hair, contrasted sharply with Connell’s more severe countenance.
“You again!? You got the forehead to show up here, mage? Get lost while you still can!” Connell spat, his voice laced with venom. “You have no business here, and you know it! This is vampire country, you are in direct violation of …”
“Peace, Connell! I am well aware,” Gwydion said calmly, raising a hand in a gesture of appeasement. “Fiona hath gone into travail, and her condition doth require thine aid, Lady Emmy. A midwife is with her, but she doth cry out for her mother. Pray, assist me in this hour of need.”
Emmy’s maternal instincts flared to life, her eyes softening with concern. “Connell, I have to! Our daughter needs me. I am coming!”
Without waiting for a response, Emmy stepped forward, and Gwydion extended his arm to guide her. Connell and Damon watched helplessly as the two figures faded into the night, swallowed by the shadows of the ancient forest.
Galarwybr, near Ravenwood
Caer Hud, Gwydion’s Lair
Hours later, beneath the ancient oak trees and perpetually grey skies ever-present in the town of Galarwybr—known as Mourningvale in modern English—the constant fog enveloped Caer Hud, Gwydion’s ancient home. The name Caer Hud translates to “Enchanted Castle,” yet in reality, it is far more austere and unadorned than the grandiose castles of our modern imagination. The air was thick with the scent of moss and damp earth, a reminder of the humble and utilitarian nature of even the most powerful medieval abodes. The Gothic and Celtic architectural elements of Gwydion’s lair stood in stark contrast to the wild forest outside. Shadows danced across the stone walls, adorned with carved runes and mystical symbols, cast by flickering torchlight.
A seasoned midwife attended to Fiona with practiced skill, her hands steady and sure. Gwydion and Emmy, each in their own way, tended to Fiona, offering encouragement and wiping the sweat from her forehead. They fed her small sips of water, the cool liquid a brief respite from the intensity of labor.
The labor was long and arduous, the hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. Fiona’s cries of pain echoed through the ancient halls, mingling with the sounds of the forest outside. Finally, as dawn approached and the first light of day began to filter through the treetops, a healthy baby girl was born. The newborn’s cry was sharp and strong, reverberating through the forest like a bell. Gwydion’s heart swelled with pride and unexpected warmth. His deep, dark eyes softened as he gazed at the new life. Emmy, her face a picture of maternal love, comforted her daughter, who now looked up at her with tired yet joyful eyes.
As Fiona drifted off into a well-deserved sleep, Emmy cradled the infant in her arms. Her youthful appearance and modern clothing contrasted with the ancient, mystical surroundings. Her brown eyes, sharp and discerning, searched for the telltale signs of vampirism. She examined the baby’s clear, bright eyes and soft skin with the wariness of a mother who had seen much. “She has no spark,” Emmy whispered, her voice tinged with astonishment. “She is… not vampire. Is she… a mage?” She looked up at Gwydion, her brown eyes meeting his deep, dark gaze.
Gwydion nodded, his expression one of solemn pride. His eyes briefly moved to Fiona, resting peacefully, then returned to Emmy. A silent understanding passed between them, a shared acknowledgment of the profound significance of this moment. “Indeed, she is,” Gwydion murmured, his voice filled with reverence. “She shall be named Eirwen, a symbol of purity and power.”
Emmy’s eyes softened as she looked down at the tiny, precious life in her arms. The night had been long and filled with trials, but in this moment, surrounded by the ancient magic of Caer Hud, there was a sense of hope and new beginnings.
Forgotten Hollow, Clannad Keep
(O’Cavanaugh residence)
A few days later, Gwydion, Fiona, Emmy, and baby Eirwen returned to Fiona’s family home. Connell and Damon awaited them, tension evident on their faces. Connell’s purplish eyes locked onto Fiona, then remained on Gwydion, his concern and anger palpable.
As soon as he saw Emmy, however, his expression softened, and a wave of relief washed over him. “Emmy, thank goodness you’re back,” he said, embracing her tightly. He kissed her and asked, “Are you okay? Has he treated you well?”
Emmy smiled and dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand. “Connell, relax, I am fine. Gwydion was a perfect host. It’s our daughter who did all the hard work,” she said, nodding toward Fiona.
Connell, although relieved to have Emmy back, couldn’t ignore the fact that Gwydion was still there. Every fiber of his being wanted to protect his family from this mage.
Damon stood beside Connell, feeling the tension between his father and Gwydion. He understood the danger the mage posed, but also knew Fiona liked Gwydion. Torn between loyalty to his family and understanding his sister’s feelings, Damon remained silent, observing the uneasy reunion. Despite the underlying tension, the family found a brief respite in each other’s presence.
Connell, relieved and overjoyed, pulled Fiona into a tight embrace without letting go of his wife, mindful of the newborn she held. He purposely avoided looking at the baby, not wanting to get attached to a grandchild he might never see again. “My sweet little girl,” he murmured softly, kissing the crest of Fiona’s head. Damon, being somewhat mischievous, joined the group hug, wrapping his arms around both his parents and his sister, careful not to jostle the baby. “Well, don’t leave out your sweet little boy…” he added with a smirk. The family shared a rare moment of warmth and unity.
Connell then stiffened, realizing something was off with Fiona. He gently pulled back, his eyes narrowing as he placed a hand on her cheek. The warmth of her skin confirmed his suspicion. Doubt clouded his expression as he stared into her eyes, searching for answers.
“You are… different,” he said, his voice filled with unease. With mounting concern, he forced her mouth open to inspect it, recoiling in shock upon seeing her fangs were gone.
“What has he done to you?!” he demanded, his voice echoing with a mix of anger and disbelief. His glare shifted to Gwydion, who stood by calmly, watching the scene unfold.
“Dad, it’s fine,” Fiona said softly. “I asked him to. You and I both know I wasn’t cutting it as a vamp. Gwydion cured my vampirism and trained me in the ways of magic throughout my pregnancy. I am now a mage, and I have found a new purpose. Wouldn’t you know it, I am actually good at magic. I want this, very much actually.”
“WHAT!!? A grandchild who is… like him, and now my daughter too? How is this supposed to work? Are you trying to turn your grandfather insane by flaunting it, right under his nose? And me as well? How does this reflect upon our family, upon Damon and me as coven enforcers?” Connell exclaimed, his eyes flicking back and forth between his daughter, his grandchild, and Gwydion.
The latter now stepped forward, his voice solemn. “We have performed the ancient rite of Aeronwen’s Bond, a ritual of unity and love, and henceforth we are known as the family o Galarwybr.”
“What?” Damon muttered, bewildered. His sister nodded.
“I am his wife now,” Fiona said, kissing her parents and smiling at her brother, her eyes filled with both love and determination. “Gwydion doesn’t really have a last name, so we both chose to use o Galarwybr. It is ancient Welsh for Mourningvale, which is where I now live with my family. I choose to stay with Gwydion and our daughter. Mom, Dad, Damon, I love him. And he me. Us.” She added the latter after lifting the newborn in her arms.
Connell, torn between his distrust of Gwydion and his love for Fiona, glanced at the baby in her arms. The realization that this might be his only chance to see his grandchild sank in. Hesitantly, he reached out, intending to touch the baby. Fiona, sensing the moment, gently placed Eirwen in his arms instead. “Your granddaughter, daddy,” she said quietly, the undertone of a mother’s love in her voice. Connell held Eirwen close, feeling the weight of both his joy and sorrow in that fragile moment.
As Connell held the tiny, precious life for the first time, a mix of emotions washed over him. He was both captivated by her and conflicted, knowing the original deal meant she would be taken away. His heart ached at the thought. The baby’s eyes, a distinct purplish hue just like his own, stared up at him, and for a brief moment, all his fears and anger melted away.
“She is beautiful,” Connell whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and sorrow.
Fiona and Damon watched the scene with quiet reverence, feeling the weight of the moment. Connell’s conflict was evident, torn between the love for his family and the duty he felt to his coven. With a heavy heart, he gently handed the baby back to Fiona, avoiding eye contact with Gwydion.
As Fiona, her brother, and their mother moved on to the living room, Connell’s face twisted with disbelief. His head snapped towards the mage, his hands on his throat as he slammed him into a wall, which surprisingly, the mage allowed.
“What have you done to my daughter!? You are controlling her mind! Release her! You have what you wanted! The child. You get the child; I get my daughter back. That was the deal! You are breaking the agreement!”
Gargling against the abuse he still allowed, Gwydion responded, “The agreement was for a male heir. Even by the initial demands, Fiona wouldst still be mine. Yet, I did release her from it. This choice is hers, wrought of her own free will. Inquire of her thyself.”
“I don’t know how you are doing this, but it won’t work on me. This is all some sort of trick, deception, manipulation!” Connell feebly accused.
Gwydion remained calm and composed. “Thou knowest better. Thou knowest this is no magick I wield, but the same magick thou and thy wife share, which doth bond across generations.”
Then, more quietly, he added, “The sort of magick which hath eluded me for centuries, which I ne’er thought I would find again. It hath reminded me of all I once felt, as a lover, husband, father. Thy precious daughter reawakened all that and more within me, and each new dawn she findeth new ways to amaze me yet. I can see why thou dost not wish to let her go, which is why I came hither. I will not take her from thee, nor do I wish to separate Eirwen from her family, especially her grandparents. Fiona hath been trained to travel at her own volition, and she may visit her family as long as thou canst guarantee her safe passage within Forgotten Hollow.”
Connell was rendered speechless, his anger momentarily overshadowed by surprise.
Befuddled, Connell released him, staring at the scene in the other room, where his son Damon was sticking his finger towards the newborn, chuckling in amazement as he looked up at his mother and sister when the baby grasped his finger with her tiny hand. Wiping his mouth in a desperate gesture, Connell looked at the mage, now realizing that his aggression had been met with patience by him. He swallowed hard, still staring at him.
“It is not I who hath thy daughter under a spell, but the other way around, as I had to admit to mine own surprise,” Gwydion now told him. “It is true, I came hither with a demand for a male heir, with no further use or interest in thy daughter, she was but a vessel to give me the male heir I so desperately longed for. I had every intention of returning her to thee, marking the last time I would see her. Alas, I found myself mesmerized and weakened, until I recognized it is not a weakness, but a strength. Apologies for the nuptials without her family’s presence; if it be Fiona’s wish, and thou agree, I would be willing to repeat the vows according to thy traditions as well. I have attempted to ask for thy blessing of our union twice, and twice thou and thou father Caelan nearly killed me for it.”
“What about my granddaughter? What happens to Eirwen now? You said it yourself, you need a male heir. Am I to understand you will continue on until you have the boy you want?” Connell sounded like a father now, not the vampire hunter, grandson of their highest-ranking ruler.
Gwydion averted his gaze briefly, smiling as he watched the scene in the next room where now Emmy and Fiona placed the newborn into his uncle’s arms. Damon looked more than nervous, standing stiffly, almost comical, while Gwydion’s eyes met Connell’s straight on.
“When thou and I first met, vampire, I desired a son. Thy daughter’s magick made me forget all I sought then; I am not even the same man I was. Now I desire Fiona, but I cannot say what our future will hold. Maybe there will be a son someday, maybe there will not. But look upon me, Connell, observe as I stand before thee now, and tell me what thou seest. I find that I cannot love more than I love mine infant daughter; she hath brought light and joy into mine existence in ways I ne’er thought possible.”
“What I see is a dead man if you call me Connell again! I don’t remember us being on a first-name basis! Make no mistake, mage, the only reason you are even still alive is because of my daughter and granddaughter,” Connell snarled.
“Wouldst thou prefer I address thee as Father-in-Law?” Gwydion smirked, watching the vampire’s eyes widening in recognition, but remaining calm as Emmy now joined them, placing a hand on his arm. “Stop it with the grim face. I have seen them together, Connell. Their love is genuine. And I have no doubt that he loves his child. And our daughter.”
As the tension lingered, Emmy glanced towards a framed photo on the mantelpiece – their eldest daughter, Jaymie, smiling with her husband, Nathan, and their son, Vincent. Jaymie, once born mortal, had married into the werewolf clan, becoming one herself, and Vincent, their child, was also a werewolf. Like mages, werewolves were enemies of vampires, yet the family had navigated this complex alliance for years.
“We’ve already straddled the line between worlds with Jaymie and Nathan, and let’s not forget his father, your best friend Michael,” Emmy reminded gently. “Now, we embrace a new chapter with Fiona. We can handle it, Connell.”
He very much struggled with his emotions, caught between his love for his daughters and the ancient enmities. Finally, he nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Emmy, but a mage now too? We had little choice with Michael, since your sister married that asshole. And we didn’t even know Jaymie and his son were … well … more than polite with each other until she was already pregnant. In high school! She was supposed to go to college. Instead, she married a wolf. And our grandson is a wolf. And don’t call Michael my best friend. I am merely … civil with him, that moon-worshipping, howling bastard. YOUR sister dragged him into our lives!”
“Connell …. seriously now? How stupid do you think I am? Of course, you and Michael are besties, don’t even lie! If your father and Cesare knew half the stuff you let him get away with … not to mention you and him sneaking away for your secret bro meetings, thinking you are so covert that we don’t know. Esmée and I are part of triplets, we talk, you know? And I can’t help noticing the beer and wet dog smell on you when you come home from your dates with your bestie. If you ever think of cheating on me, don’t. You just aren’t sneaky enough, baby, not even to hide that bro-love with Michael very well. He tries to deny it too, but you know Ezzy, she called BS on that long ago, so he already admitted it.” Emmy teased, while Connell’s eyes flicked at the mage, before he closed them, sighing.
“Maybe it will help thee if thou knew that magick blood runs in thy veins, and in thy son’s,” Gwydion said, causing Connell’s eyes to pop open in bewilderment.
“WHAT?!”
“Thine eyes, of purple. Only those born into ancient magick bear them. If present on a vampire, it can only mean one of two things: either they once were magick or one of their ancestors were. Thy granddaughter presents them. Eirwen’s eyes are not blue, like many babes might have, they are distinctly purple. Mine are dark, a dominant color. Yet, my child hath thy eyes. Fiona hath them. Which explains her natural penchant for magick. I am surprised at thy surprise. I would have thought thy grandfather would have prepared thee.”
“Lies! That is impossible! Enough now!”
“Connell! Stop and think. Your mother grew up in an orphanage. She never knew her parents. And she was mortal when your father and she fell in love and he turned her, but even he said she was always different. And same with Heath. He has purple eyes too. His father was a vampire but went insane, even before he took his own life, abandoning his very young son, so Blaine raised him, and nobody even knew who his mother had been. I like Heath, but you gotta admit he is strange. And all the children have those eyes—their twin boys, the grandbabies, and ours. My eyes are brown; theoretically at least one of ours should have inherited them, but all three of our kids have purple eyes. Like Gwydion said, dark eyes are normally dominant, but not here. It checks out, babe.”
Connell looked shocked, speechless.
“Ask thy grandfather. Cesare will confirm it,” Gwydion encouraged, calmly.
“I will ask my mother once she is back. After the drama with my father, she needed time away from here, can’t say I blame her. My grandfather isn’t the kind of grandpa you can walk up to and ask about eye colors…” Connell muttered, as Emmy ran the back of her hand across his cheek.
“I am sure Cesare would tell you that though, it goes a lot deeper than just an interest in family genetics. I’ll go with you. I kinda wanna know now too. I thought I was all out there falling in love with a vamp back when, guess I didn’t even know the half of it. You were magical babe, even then.”
“I am a vampire, and that’s all there is to it! They’re married, Emmy,” he deflected back to what was likely weighing heaviest on his heart, pointing directly at the mage’s face, which, once more, Gwydion allowed with stoic patience. “Married! Our little girl is married. And I never even got to walk my little girl down the aisle or give her away. Not that I would have wanted to give her to him …”
“Yes, I understand that. Connell, I have stayed with them for a few days now. I hated him too—sorry, no offense, Gwydion,” Emmy smiled apologetically at him, which he acknowledged with a nod. “But he came here, knowing you wanted to kill him, not to mention your father going bonkers when someone only mentions his name. He took a great risk, because Emmy needed me, she wanted me there. They had midwives and servants, but she wanted her mom. He has been nothing but courteous and kind to me, and I watched them together, Connell. She loves him. It’s real. And he loves her and their daughter. I have no doubt. And if you come at me now with anything about him controlling my mind I will kick you in the shins! I am her mother, Connell! I can feel my daughter loves this man. We don’t have to—again, nothing personal,” she smiled at the mage, who just shrugged. “But Fi does. Look at her. When she moved back home after the Lukas debacle, she was a bird with broken wings. We tried so hard, Damon tried, Jaymie tried, but she couldn’t get over the heartbreak. Gwydion not only mended her wings, he made her soar. Be a dad. Support her choice, even if it’s not what you wanted for her. And no offense, but screw your dad. I don’t even care if he will have a fit if he ever finds out. He’ll get a lecture from me, and a lesson what Mama Bear really means!”
Connell stared at Emmy tensely, then at the mage, but said nothing, so Emmy continued.
“I wasn’t going to bring this up, but I think thou might need the heavy artillery to jolt thy brain and heart back from demonic hatred and back to the Connell I love. I remember once upon a time, when a 15-year-old girl from a small suburb found an injured young vampire in the fields behind her family’s home… Vampires, dangerous bloodthirsty monsters. Yet, the girl helped him. She knew someone, who knew someone, who knew a vampire and she saved his life. And then that vampire came to her window almost every night…” she smiled, knowing she won the argument already.
“Stop! Enough Emmy. Fine. All right. Now what? So I am to surrender my child and grandchild to him? How are we to ever see them now? We don’t even know where you live, you and your magic gimmicks and force fields and whatnot!”
“Fiona can see thee as oft and whensoever she desireth now. I forbade her from porting, as ’tis known to have ill effects on unborn children, but she may journey on her own now, even with the infant. I hold her not captive. Thou, thy wife, and Fiona’s siblings are welcome, yet I beseech thee to keep mine location hidden from thy father, for his grudge against me is insurmountable. I can trust him not. If Caelan shouldst even attempt to show up at mine home, he will meet a swift end, with no mercy granted.”
Connell took a deep breath, his features softening slightly. “Okay. I get all that and thank you for allowing Fiona to visit and offering to have another wedding for us all to attend, that is very considerate. I don’t know if we need a full wedding since you apparently already had one, but I think I speak for my wife and children that we at least would like to see where Fiona now lives, considering this appears to be permanent, so how about maybe a small reception. I agree about my father, he can be… difficult, and I think we should keep the group small. You have my word as an honorable man that our visit will be peaceful. But did you really have to make her a mage? Seriously? Wouldn’t unturning have sufficed? I get it, you’re uncomfortable with a vampire in your home but … did you have to go to such lengths?”
Gwydion met Connell’s gaze steadily, his expression unyielding yet compassionate. “It was upon Fiona’s plea to me. I once may have overstepped mine own bounds, compelling her to acknowledge her true nature, and whilst she did surprise me with her reaction, it did mar her. It was clear as fresh Spring water to me that she is not made to drink of the blood, though she was born to it. Yet, I would not grant her that wish to become like me, especially not whilst she carried mine own child.
Not until upon mine return from a brief absence, I found, to mine astonishment, that for once she had not dissembled mine home but had breached mine private study, sealed by magicks—heavens know how she managed it—wielding an ancient wand which only activates for those with magick within. Curiosity did compel me to test it further, and Fiona became determined, beseeching and pleading until I did grant her wish. I could not teach true magick to a vampyr, thus I had to cure her vampyrism before her ascent to the powers of the Arcane Order. She hath lost the immortality of the vampyr, but gained mine own. She is a natural, learning swifter than any I have encountered in all mine years.”
Connell stared at him, then looked at Emmy, who shrugged, then closed his eyes. “Great,” he sighed. “Just great. One daughter married to a wet dog, the other to a…” Connell gestured vaguely, searching for a term, “…to a… well… you. Cesare will have a fit. Not to mention my father. You have turned me into the laughingstock of the entire vampire community, and I am meant to instill respect, maybe even fear.”
Gwydion inclined his head respectfully. “I would expect no less, vampire, but their disdain changeth not the truth. Thou still seemest to think I am here to take, when I am here to give unto thee. Thy daughter, thy granddaughter, and any future grandchildren there might be. No magick, no nefarious ideas. Just from one father to another.”
Connell stood, torn between his lingering distrust and the realization of what he stood to lose. Emmy, noticing his hesitation, nudged him gently, smiling. “Just snuggle the baby already, I can see you are already addicted. And for heaven’s sake just roll with it, I’ve come around, so you can too. You’ve done it before with Jaymie’s son; if you can love a werewolf, you can love a little mage, can’t you?”
Damon chimed in with a snarky remark, “Yeah, Dad. It’s not the end of the world, and she kinda looks like you—drooling when asleep and all. Before her diaper change, she even smelled like you after returning home from one of your long missions.” He grinned, and Connell twitched as if to give chase, sending a laughing Damon running.
Connell turned back to Gwydion with a wry smile. “You might have dodged a bullet not having a son who grows into an insolent bigmouth like mine.”
Gwydion chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Verily, ’tis true, but daughters do oft cause their fathers equal woe with their choice of husbands.”
Connell nodded in reluctant agreement, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true.”
He then turned back, reaching for the infant. He held her close, kissing her gently, allowing himself to fall in love. Emmy winked at Gwydion, who nodded at her in silent understanding, recalling their conversation after the birth when she assured him her husband would come around. Emmy leaned against Connell, both snuggling their new grandbaby, eventually joined by Damon.
Gwydion, observing the tender family moment, turned to Fiona. He took her hand, bringing it to his lips in a gesture of reverence. “My heart, thou art the light that guideth me,” he whispered, his eyes filled with love and devotion. Fiona smiled, her eyes reflecting the same deep affection, leaning against him, as they shared a quiet, intimate moment.
Once Gwydion left again with Fiona and the baby, Damon remained in the doorway with his father, staring at the point where they had vanished into thin air. He then patted his father on the shoulder.
“Chill, Dad. It’s not the best thing ever, but not that bad either. Fi loves that dude, and my niece isn’t half-bad—for a girl.” He grinned at his father, who turned his head to face his son, before grabbing his son’s jaw.
“Joke all you like, kid, but if you EVER dare to come home with a girl one day and she is anything but vampire or maybe mortal, I will spank you so hard, your great-great-grandchildren will still be sore from it!” With that he released him roughly and walked off into the house.
Chuckling, while rubbing his jaw, Damon shut the door.
“Yeah, right, sure. Whatever, Dad. Or I could just remind you I am 21 years old and just date whomever the heck I want and just go to mom with it first if she happens to not be part of one of those categories and you’d be overruled anyway,” he muttered, when Connell’s voice sounded from one of the rooms.
“I heard that!”
“Good! Maybe I’ll go visit Fi and find myself a nice hot witch. Or I hang out with Jaymie and see how doggy style is with an actual doggy, aka Werewolf. Or maybe … hey Dad, where did you run off to? I am not done brainstorming here …”
Laughing, Damon went to torture his father some more.
Author’s Note:
I realize that ancient languages and spellings are not everyone’s cup of tea/coffee, so here’s some general help:
O Galarwybr would sound like “oh GAH-lar OO-ber.” Galarwybr means Mourningvale and essentially signifies “from Mourningvale”
Aeronwen would be pronounced as “EYE-ron-wen.” Aeronwen was an ancient mage-priestess whose powerful rites of unity and love have been used by mages ever since to form unbreakable bonds. Her spirit is said to bless these unions.
Gwydion ap Aberffraw would be pronounced as “GWID-yon ap AH-ber-FROW.” The “ap” in Welsh means “son of,” so this name indicates that Gwydion is the son of (late) Aberffraw.
And the chapter title Elysian Dawn: This title symbolizes the emergence of a new, idyllic beginning filled with beauty and promise. “Elysian” refers to Elysium, a paradise in Greek mythology where virtuous souls dwell in eternal peace. Paired with “Dawn,” it conveys the start of a transformative, harmonious era.
Clannad Keep (O’Cavanaugh family home in Forgotten Hollow): Meant to evoke a sense of familial legacy and stronghold. “Clannad” is derived from the Irish Gaelic word for family or clan, emphasizing unity and heritage, while “Keep” denotes a fortified place of protection and strength. Together, they suggest a place where family ties are preserved and safeguarded.
EchoesOfLegacy 