Fionnuala And Oisin

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic


Fionnuala -- Fin-OO-la Oisin -- Osh-een Tir Na Nog -- Tear Na Noag

Submitted: February 05, 2018

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Submitted: February 05, 2018

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Fionnuala And Oisin

Listen hard! Can you hear it? There it is again, that faint sound of music on the breeze.

There is something about the notes, the way they flow together. You can almost believe that there is some kind of magic involved. But you’re a rational person and know that there is no such thing. And yet you find yourself trying to follow it, to get a chance to hear it that bit more clearly, even though by doing so you know you will be late.

For a moment it seems to disappear. All is quiet apart from the sound of birdsong, the rustle of bushes. You are even aware of the sound the water makes as it trickles its way down the stream. Have you ever known it to be so quiet before?

And then the music starts again, a sad and melancholy tune that drags you slowly along towards it. You are getting nearer, close enough now to pick out the notes; you are no musician but that music fills you and draws you onward.

Strings! You are not sure of the instruments until you round the corner and can see the musicians. Two of them on the stone steps. Strange how you’d never noticed that they were there before because each on looks old, weather-beaten and covered in moss. Perhaps the steps had been covered in grass or something for you have been here many times before.

At the bottom of the steps sits a girl, cello held firmly between her knees as the bow travels back and forth across the strings. Such a sad sound you can feel tears begin to form in your eyes. She is quite beautiful with her pale skin and her long red hair, her dress the color of emerald green.

A cough from the top of the steps and you look towards him; a man, quite short, a bit on the plump side. His hair is white, as is his moustache and thick, bushy beard. He holds another instrument but has not yet started playing.

“She’s quite a sight isn’t she, Fionnuala, my daughter. And quite the musician too. It’s in the blood, the music. Let me introduce myself. The name is Oisin!”

Even talking his voice has a lilt to it, a sing-song quality. You know he is going to be a fantastic singer. And just as that thought enters your mind, Oisin begins to play his lute and to sing.

You stand there, as though mesmerized. Tears are flowing unchecked from your eyes as the woeful sounds surround you. When you think you can take no more, the tempo begins to pick up; your feet start tapping a beat as they play, getting faster and faster. You find yourself beginning to dance, complicated steps that you’ve never seen before. Where do they come from?

Magic!

It’s all becoming such a blur, the colors, the sounds. It’s just like you are being sucked into some rainbow colored mist. You are under some strange spell, have lost all control over your movements and your mind. You belong to them.

Then suddenly it stops. The veil lifts and you find yourself.....where? Not somewhere that you have ever been before and certainly not where you were. Look at the place, the colors, the people. Think of their names, Fionnuala and Oisin.....

You know where you are now, Tir Na Nog, and you know that you can never go home again.

 


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