There is quite a bit revealed here about the direction the story is taking, but there are really no spoilers. There’s history, an antagonist is introduced, there are guys who can manipulate fire and water, and a very 80’s William Zabka-esk bully appears. You know, the usual. I’m still digging into this supernatural fantasy, but it hasn’t been easy. But I’m more than halfway through and I’m going to see its end (not final because it has to be a series). Any constructive feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading!

Do I call them people? Maeve wondered. People don’t have the supernatural abilities kids read about in fairy tales and comic books. Even though they all possessed awe-inspiring skills, they did look, speak, and interact like regular people, like everyday youth found in a mall or skating rink. 

They made their way out to the back patio, a wide open space that was almost the width of the house. Some people we’re playfully sparring. Others lounged around fire pits. Maeve stared at a few young men who made balls of fire rise from one of the pits. As if that wasn’t impressive enough, they morphed the fire balls into different shapes, one being a hand making a peace sign. Once Maeve could pull her eyes away from that magic, she noticed a luxurious swimming pool complete with a stone waterfall. Quinn, in his orange and blue trunks, used his hands to shoot thick cylindrical streams of water over the heads of a swarm of pretty girls jumping in attempts to catch them.  

“As you can see, Quinn can manipulate water, but he’s a damn good fighter too. We all have telekinetic abilities but moving water is a rare find amongst our people.” 

“So, I guess that’s how he gets the girls, huh?” 

“He likes to think so. Personally, I think he can manipulate minds, but only if they’re wearing mini-skirts.”

“Stop it,” she laughed and pushed him playfully. 

“Maevey!” Quinn yelled with his arms in the air. The water snakes he created splashed down on the girls who whined about their hair getting wet. 

“Oops, sorry ladies,” Quinn pushed himself out of the water and sprinted towards her.

“Maeve, it’s awesome to see you up and about.” Quinn wrapped her in a big hug, forgetting he had just come out of the pool. “Welcome to our crazy world. I told you we weren’t lying.”     

She wrapped her arms around herself to block the chill. “I’m trying to process everything. Slowly, you know. Make sure I’m still on Earth. That’s a cool water trick by the way.”

“Aww thanks. Yep, we all have our own little blessings and curses around here.” 

“Curses?” 

“Sure, most of who you see here are good folks, trying to play the hands they’ve been dealt. Others, well..” Quinn gestured toward the back of the property that went uphill. Massive, plateaued boulders served as platforms for fierce fighters. The men and women on the rocks separated themselves from the rest of the backyard camaraderie, and Maeve noticed how hard they fought, with little mercy towards each other. “Practice” or “training” didn’t seem to be in their vocabulary. 

“They’re a little overzealous when it comes to the whole warrior thing. They have to play it up because they’re really not as powerful,” Quinn dried himself off with an E.T. towel. 

“I see.” 

“MAEVE!!!” 

She looked up to find Kyler on the roof of the mansion waving down at her. 

“Check this out!” He waved again before disappearing from view. 

“What is he doing?” She waved back. 

“Oh, I have a feeling he’s going to do something stupid, but it’s always fun to watch.” Quinn looked up in anticipation. 

“Don’t encourage him,” Cayden pleaded. 

“You’re the one who used to let him swing from tree to tree when we were kids.” 

“He wanted to be in the Jungle Book and wouldn’t shut up about it.” 

“Never say die!!!” Kyler jumped from the three story building and sprinted through the air. She watched and marveled at his ability to defy gravity, not just hang from ceilings. After what seemed like several long minutes of flailing and flight, Kyler made a running landing onto one of the rock platforms, plowing into two guys getting ready to spar. Quinn laughed hysterically.  

“He does it all the time. No worries,” reassured Quinn. 

“How am I not dreaming?” She whispered to herself. 

Shouting and shoving ensued on Kyler’s landing spot. She didn’t get the sense a full on riot was about to happen, but Maeve could see the serious fighters were not happy about Kyler’s stunt. 

“Great. How much do you want a bet Aodhan is going to throw a fit now?” Cayden asked Quinn. 

“Well, a whole twenty minutes of peace has gone by. Can’t have anymore than that can we?” 

“Cayden!!” A kind of gangly, platinum blonde gentleman, followed by Kyler and several other fighters trudged down the hill and stomped their way towards the eldest Knight. . 

“Can’t wait to hear this,” Cayden whispered to Maeve. 

“Why does he look so upset? Kyler didn’t mean any harm.” 

“Aodhan likes to pretend he’s the drill sergeant from Full Metal Jacket.” 

“Those are the best parts of that movie,” Maeve tried to lighten his darkening mood. 

“Only that guy was funny. This guy is just a pure douchebag,” Cayden added.

“Donnelly, tell this flying skidmark you call your brother to stop interrupting our training sessions!” 

“Kyler, stop interrupting Aodhan’s training sessions,” Cayden replied flatly, without looking at his younger brother. 

“I thought they were dick measuring parties?” asked Quinn. Cayden looked annoyed at first but then had to stifle a laugh. 

“No one asked for you to chime in, shit for brains,” Aodhan approached Quinn, trying to look intimidating but the loud mouth Knight didn’t budge. 

“Why don’t you and your pals go back to playing Ninja Turtles. I promise I won’t interrupt again,” Kyler cut in. 

“One of these days you’re not going to land on your feet,” Aodhan turned his attention to the leaping Knight, “and I hope I’m there to see it happen.” 

“Well, that’s not going to happen if you don’t get off your mama’s tit already.” 

Aodhan attempted to lunge at Kyler but was stopped by Cayden and a couple of Aodhan’s cronies. 

“Guys, can we for once remind ourselves that we’re supposed to be on the same team here? None of you acted this way when we were kids!” 

“Just keep him away from our work, Donnolly. Or you’re going to have a lot more to worry about besides your headaches.” 

Cayden scowled at the tall brute than looked at a puzzled Maeve.  

“So, who’s this?” Aodhan pointed towards Maeve who stood securely next to Quinn once Cayden had to assume the role of mediator. 

“A friend that needed our help. That’s all you need to know,” Quinn answered. Aodhan came within two feet of Maeve. 

“Jeez, I thought the all mighty Sleepless Knights knew they had to rescue the damsels in distress not rough them up,” he pointed at the bruises on her face and her cut lip.  

“They didn’t do this to me. The creeps they saved me from did this.” She realized it was the first time she acknowledged Cayden and the Knights as her rescuers. 

“Aww, you mean the great Cayden Donnelly couldn’t save you before you got beat up?” 

“Go to hell, Aodhan,” Cayden’s fury grew. 

“Hey, I’m just pointing out the obvious here. Seemed to be a semi-successful mission if you ask me. But what do I know? I’m just a lowly carnie, right?” 

“If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck,” Cayden moved into the space between Aodhan and Maeve. 

“You’re pushing it, Donnelly.” 

Maeve felt compelled to interject before things got uglier. “For your information, if it wasn’t for these guys, I would have been beaten, raped, dead, or all of the above. I would say that’s a win. May I ask you what you were doing on Friday night besides dick measuring with your disciples.” She couldn’t believe her own reaction, which earned her some laughs from the small crowd watching the conflict unfold. She knew a bully when she saw one, and that guy had no right to question how indebted she was to the Knights. 

“I hear you, sweetheart. I hear you. Just let me know when you’re ready for some real protection, okay.” With that, Aodhan earned himself a hard shove from Cayden. 

“Come on, pretty boy, show me what you got!” Aodhan took a fighting stance which Cayden refused to reciprocate. 

“Enough!” A booming voice emerged from the house before Quinn and Kyler could grab the obnoxious carnie. “If I want to see 3rd grader behavior, I’d go to a Chuckie Cheese! But I know I helped raise sensible and cooperative men and women here, so act like it. What a display of nonsense in front of a guest. Aodhan, go back to the rocks and cool off. Cayden and Maeve you stay where you are, please. The rest of you, as you were.” ‘Yes sirs’ rose from the crowd before everyone walked away to carry on with their activities. 

“I’m sorry, sir. It appears your Knights have come to the mountains with the goal of starting trouble.” 

“Aodhan, now is not the time to channel William Zabka. We have a guest, and I’m sure you have plenty of teenagers waiting for your excellent guidance,” Corbin gestured for him to leave. 

“Yes sir,” Aodhan replied flatly before scowling at Cayden and walking away. 

“This has been quite the introduction to Fian’s Hallow hasn’t it, my dear?” Corbin smiled warmly at Maeve. 

“I guess so. What’s that guy’s problem anyway?” 

“Oh, he’s truly a fine young man underneath the Napoleon complex. Don’t take anything he says to heart. More importantly you are well enough now to be up and about. This is wonderful to see.” 

“Yeah, I mean, I guess I’m feeling a bit better, but I can’t say I feel any less certifiable. This is all just hard to process.” 

“Well then, why don’t you join me and Cayden in my study, and we can tell you the whole story. Perhaps not the whole story. I am sure you’re going to want to get home some time this year,” Corbin chuckled. 

Corbin led Cayden and his bewildered guest into the house towards a wide spiral staircase with brass railings. On the way, they were stopped by more curious Fianna looking for an introduction to the mysterious young woman. Silently they climbed to the second level where a green carpeted hallway stretched before them, both sides lined with ornately carved wooden doors. Corbin pulled a brass skeleton key out of his pocket once they stopped at the eighth door on the left. 

“Ms. Wicklow, welcome to my domain. It’s really an open space for all, but I’m as much a fixture in this room as the bookshelves.” 

Corbin unlocked the door, and for a moment, Maeve questioned why the hell she agreed to enter this man’s room despite having Cayden right behind her. But once Corbin opened the door, the sight before her shattered that thought entirely. 

The walls were lined with floor to ceiling, redwood bookshelves. The color patterns suggested the newer hardcovers occupied most of the reachable spaces, whereas the earth-toned and sun bleached older books required a rolling ladder to reach. The top shelves served as homes to books so old they needed tan strips of heavy duty tape to keep them together. Wall space that wasn’t covered by shelving held paintings in gilded frames that Maeve would expect to see in a museum. Portraits of mighty and intimidating warriors, both male and female, seemed to peer at her. A massive marble table with green and gold upholstered chairs sat in the center of the room. Scattered about on the smooth surface were open books, various papers, photos, and vases full of eucalyptus, mint leaves, and aloe. Bright flames flickered in the tall fireplace, and leather chairs sat invitingly in front of the fire. The space overwhelmed Maeve, and she couldn’t imagine a warmer and more tranquil room outside of her own in that little garden apartment in Jersey. 

“Wow, just when I think I have seen it all. This is incredible.” 

“Thank you Maeve. I had a feeling you’d like it. Cayden tells me that aside from the artwork, you’re quite the reader and writer.” 

“Well, I know I do a lot of it. There’s no better way to wander and lose yourself without having to go anywhere. I could literally stay in this room until I died. How long has this house been here?” 

“Longer than any of us have been alive,” Cayden handed her an obsidian palm stone he had been rolling around in his hand. “What would you say, Corbin? At least five generations back maybe?” 

“Perhaps in this home, but Fianna have brigades and home bases all over the world that date back centuries.” 

“Right, the Fianna. Now who are you guys exactly? Personally, I keep waiting for Tom Cruise to pop out of a closet with a little gnome or a fairy.”

“Hahaha, isn’t that a delightful film? I’m glad to see that after all you’ve been through, you’re reputed humor is still in tact.” Corbin earned a warm smile from his guest. “But you’re right. I promised you answers and a Fian never breaks his or her word.” He motioned toward the chairs in front of the fireplace. He and Maeve relaxed into the two leather chairs as Cayden made himself at home on the chaise lounge. Even though he sensed Maeve had become more relaxed, Cayden wouldn’t take his eyes off of her. Every one of her looks of wonder made him feel like flying, but every look of distress felt like a kick to the gut. 

“Simon, bring us some tea, please,” Corbin called over to his assistant sitting at a small desk by one of the windows. 

“Certainly sir. Would you like milk and sugar, miss?” 

“That would be great. Thank you.” She watched as the hunched over old man left the room. Maeve never put milk in her tea. Her grandmother did, so for the longest time she assumed it was something that older and more mature adults did. 

“I would never be able to find my cuff links without Simon. Good man, he is. Now, how much do you know about what the rest of the world calls Celtic legend and lore?” 

Maeve wasn’t a bit surprised by that question. 

“Not much, I guess. Maybe a few fairy stories my grandmother used to tell me when I was little. She knew my favorite was Tir Na Nog.” 

“Ah yes, it’s all of our favorites, dear. But what if I were to tell you that what you and the rest of the world believe to be fairy stories or folklore is mostly true. And there is quite a bit the story books don’t tell you.” 

Maeve twirled pieces of her hair between her fingers as she thought about her answer. 

“I guess I would have to say that makes sense, maybe. I don’t know. A couple of days ago everything in front of me was so black and white. Now I barely know what to believe anymore.”   

“Well, believe me,” chuckled Corbin. “You are still very much on Earth. You are still the same Maeve you were before you arrived here, and to tell you the truth, we’re not all that different from everybody else.” 

“You shapeshift and Kyler can basically fly. I think that might be something a little more Disney’s Fantasia, don’t you think?” 

“True, but just because we’re demigods, doesn’t mean we don’t go through the same rhythms of the human experience. We eat, sleep, laugh, cry..love, hate, and bleed just like everyone else. It’s our lineage that sets us apart and makes us have to hide in plain sight.” 

“Your lineage?” 

“Yes dear. Everyone here is a descendant of the original Fianna. Some are even the descendents of many different deities. But as the generations filter down, most lose their immortality. Some don’t reach their full potential. However, we all carry at least one unique ability that has to manifest at the right time, in the right place, and that’s why we are here. We use our powers to defend those who cannot defend themselves, the ones who suffer from the wrong doings of a select few.” 

“We only wish there were a few evil-doers,” Cayden added. “Then again we wouldn’t have much of a purpose if there were only a few.” 

“And who were the original Fianna exactly?” 

“The greatest band of brother and sister warriors the world will never know, miss.” Simon returned with a silver tray of steaming tea cups and finger slices of warm bread swirled with raisins and spices. Maeve wasted no time devouring some of the bread, remembering how hungry she was. 

“Oh Simon, always flattering us in front of guests, huh old friend,” Corbin took a sip of his tea. “Fianna have been around since the early Middle Ages. At that time they were bands of wandering hunters and warriors, not rootless per se, but they had not yet inherited land nor gained the skill set necessary to be deemed part of old Irish society, known as the Tuath. However, a young Fian’s goal was to be recognized as part of the Tuatha De Danaan – the folk of the goddess Danu – supernatural men and women serving as kings, queens, poets, storytellers, healers, warriors, musicians, and heroes.”

“So you’re all from Ireland.” 

“Not all. The Knights are from Massachusetts. I’m from New York originally. Simon over there comes from the UK. We’re all over the world.” 

“For a while we had pretty normal lives, like you saw in our photo albums on the bus,” Cayden added. “Once they thought our parents were ready to accept having children with..unusual abilities, guys like Corbin, Ethan, and other Fian leaders began training us to use our powers in the best ways possible. Plus, we learned fighting moves that would make Chuck Norris look like Mary Poppins.” 

“Now Cayden, you know the most important part of what we do is help people in need of our assistance. The fighting is only a fraction of what goes into Fianna’s missions.” 

“So how many other rock stars are actually supernatural warriors?” Maeve asked. 

“Not many with the popularity The Knights have been gaining. But Fianna take on many different identities. We have athletes, artists, traveling theater actors, carnies, circus performers, musicians – anything that requires a great deal of travel. We want to be able to spread out and help as many people as we can. Come look at these scrapbooks.” Corbin rose from his spot in front of the fire and motioned for her to follow him to the table. 

“Here you’ll get a bigger picture of how we’ve circulated over the years.” 

Maeve took a seat and flipped through the distressed pages of the leather bound book. Photos, newspaper clippings, letters, journal pages, and other ephemera painted a picture of the warriors’ long history. Vaudeville performers, magicians, soldiers, singers, acrobats – some recognizable, some not – filled every page. Everything intrigued Maeve, but she knew there was much more to learn and understand. The scrapbooks provided more proof of how real the Fianna were. But she wondered how much she’d be willing to accept, and what did Cayden mean when he said there was a purpose to her presence in this bizarre world. 

“You still haven’t told me your abilities, James.” 

“James?” Corbin’s brow furrowed. 

“It’s a nickname I gave him when we first met, and in a way, aren’t you all rebels without causes? Or I guess you do have a cause, huh?” 

“Nothing specific, Agatha,” Cayden winked at her. “We just want to do what’s right. Like Corbin said, we’re still pretty human despite the whole demi-god thing. Who better to help humans than semi-humans who seemed to have leapt out of a comic? And we have to stay incognito, just like a Batman and Superman.” 

“Yes, absolutely,” Corbin interjected. “The world certainly isn’t ready to know who we really are, and it most likely never will be.” 

“So wait, you guys are like half gods, half humans, right? Does that mean you’ll live forever?” 

“We’ll age and weaken like any other mortal, but the likelihood of dying from natural causes is slim. But it has happened. Our bodies have frailties just like everyone else’s. We can be killed by external threats. Immortality weakens as we move from generation to generation.” Cayden handed her another scrapbook to peruse.  

“And that’s where our biggest mission of all comes into play, my dear.” Corbin retrieved Maeve’s tea from the end table and placed it in front of her. “A prophesier, with abilities our people haven’t seen in centuries, is the one who can help us, not only regain our immortality and strengthen us, but weaken the power the Moridhans have over this world.” 

“The Moridhans?” 

“Yeah, you can kind of think of them as rogue Fianna,” answered Cayden. “They’re just like us but they get off on using their power to wreak havoc and perpetuate fear and hardship. Some are worse than others, but they’re all pretty much douche bags.”  

“Cayden, that is unfair.” Corbin lightly scolded. “Many of the Moridhans are simply misguided or grossly immature. Then many others are under Andreas’ manipulation.” Corbin handed her an old sketch of a burly, intimidating man with ratty shoulder length hair, wearing a combination of cracked leather and chainmail, cradling a crossbow as if it were a child. 

“Well, I guess you’d never want to call him a sissy,” Maeve replied. 

“He is our most substantial threat. He has powers I’m sure we are yet to see, and he’s after the same thing we are. They have even more to gain from finding The Prophesier.” 

“Yes, who is The Prophesier again?” 

“No one really knows for sure-” 

“She is the one who can change what we know of the light and the darkness, Maeve.” Corbin swiftly interrupted the eldest Knight. Mauve noticed Cayden looking away defeated and slightly annoyed. “Not only can The Prophesier draw and document future travesties with more quickness and accuracy than any Fian with clairvoyant abilities, she’s also the one who can lead us to The Book of Tara. A text, if found and read aloud by the demigoddess, can give us back our immortality and forever weaken Andreas and his peons.” 

“Like I was saying,” Cayden interjected, “No one is one hundred percent sure of her existence or how much power she has. She would be a descendent of hundreds of generations of seers. Even if she is found again, becoming The Prophesier is a huge demand,” he stared stoically at Corbin. 

“Yes, son, you are right about that,” Corbin added. “If a seer is found once again, she will have to make the decision of her own free will to become part of Fianna. Her head and her heart would have to be focused on learning how to use her abilities. It takes strength, confidence, and faith to achieve prophetic power.” 

“Okay, this may sound like a stupid question, but is there still, like, a God and Jesus and all that? All this makes is seem like you guys and the Moridhans are the only higher powers at play here.” 

“Not a stupid question at all, dear,” Corbin moved to sit in the chair next to hers. “Like I said, everything you knew of the world before you were brought here is the same. We are certainly not the highest powers of the universe. There are many above us. The God and Jesus you’ve known are two of many, and we can’t see or hear them any better than you can. But we know they are there. We are merely..what would be the best comparison? We are the Jedi Knights to the Force.” 

Maeve couldn’t help but laugh as Cayden face palmed and shook his head. She felt less doubtful but more confused at the same time. It helped that Corbin turned out to be less of an intimidating figure, not too dissimilar to Cayden. Though he was older and a bit more serious, there was a softness in Corbin’s voice and demeanor – like a Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, she thought. Darcy was her grandmother’s life long imaginary husband and Maeve smiled sadly at the memory. 

“So what’s going to happen if you never find this Prophesier, or if the Moridhans get to her first?” Maeve continued to flip through the scrapbook, each page unraveled the mystery of this new world that existed before anyone created time. 

“We don’t have to worry about that. She’s sitting right here in this room.” 

“Corbin, come on!” Cayden got up from his seat. 

“Wait, what?” Maeve rose from her chair and looked back and forth at the two men. “What’s going on? And what the hell have you been smoking? You can’t possibly think I am anywhere close to being this Prophesier. I can’t even help my Mom balance her checkbook.” 

“This is not the time, Corbin, and it’s certainly not the way. At least give her time to heal and process everything a little bit more,” Cayden pleaded. 

“There is no easy way or hard way to reveal to a lost soul what they’re truly capable of. You are a man of truth and action, as am I. You’re either going to lay it out on the table or stay silent.” 

“Look, I think you guys have read your tarot cards wrong because I’m not your girl. Now if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I’m going back to the bus. Whenever you’re ready to get me home, please let me know.” Maeve headed towards the door. 

“Wait, I’ll walk you,” Cayden followed. 

“Your grandmother was a descendent of one of the Muses. That’s why she was able to remember everything she read, not just Pride and Prejudice, and she wrote so beautifully. Brilliant woman, she was.” 

Though her hand was on the brass knob, Maeve didn’t open the door once she stopped dead in her tracks. She turned to face Corbin, completely spellbound. 

“How did you know that? How did you know my grandmother?” 

“I didn’t exactly know her, but we do have record of her and her lineage. Yes, Abigail Wicklow. She helped Fianna from time to time, but she was never truly part of the society. There were Fian that tried to convince her, but her place was with her grandchildren. She could not be swayed. Brilliant but also stubborn. I’m not surprised her granddaughter is just like her.” Corbin smiled warmly and approached her. 

“I can’t believe this,” she whispered and let tears fall down her cheeks. Cayden wrapped his arm around her, a simple act of comfort that sprung a twinge of uneasiness in Corbin, no matter how badly he tried to push it away. 

“I did not tell you this to upset you or further confuse you, my dear. I’m simply asking for a chance to prove to you that the world may be the same world as it was yesterday, but your purpose within it is far different from what you thought it was.” 

Maeve stood with her feet bolted to the floor. After several moments of silence, she slowly returned to her seat at the table. 

“Okay, so what do you have to show me?”