Ruarc Aonghus MacKay

.... became Chieftain of their Clan upon their father's death after sending them off to survive. It was not a position he wanted and even less to lose his father. A man he had looked up to and respected. A man he emulated taken from him and his siblings. The loss was felt greatly. It was the situation around his death that held something even more deeply menacing for ancient lore. One that was becoming a reality.
 
Through Druid abilities and ways known to him, he kept track of each sibling left in Eire until they could reach Heathfield lands. It was Trevet that was sent by their father, Afton, before his death to discover as much as he could about all the lore connected with the Fomhóire. More than that which could be found in books written. The information they needed would have to come from the heart of Eire herself. Ancient lore and the best source would be the hermit Druids that hid in the hollow hills throughout the Emerald Isle. Ones who saw the lore passed down for thousands of years from the very Source by word of mouth and teachings. They could only hope there were some still alive who knew what they now needed to find out to survive. It was with this in mind that Ruarc lingered in Eire as long as he could, traveling from county to county keeping the Fir Bholg at bay and trying to find his brother as they lost connection with him. When his father told Ruarc to leave, he had to obey, Aedan, Mikhail and Kaylea eventually catching up with him leaving Eimear, Trevet and Kynan still in Eire.

The storm rage that faithful night that forebode his own leaving of his home, his soul, his Eire, his Family - his heart. They would survive and it was time to give up the chase of the Fir Bholg and reunite with the others. He could hope that the others, now scattered, already left for that was the plan even if they got separated. Dark hooded cloak billowed around him as horse and rider became one in a gallop. He looked much like the Fir Bholg that followed him in his wake, never quite catching up with the one they were bent on destroying. Like his father and his father before him they pursed Ruarc. He felt his father in his heart giving him the strength and courage to persevere. One focus, one determination, to keep his family alive and race against time to defeat their ancient enemy. The torrential rains soaked both man and beast even with the cloak worn and hood up. The steady fall of hooves displaced the puddles of water to shoot from beneath as they made contact. A ship was setting sail in the direction he needed to go. He was wise not to set up the fare beforehand and be discovered of his intent. Instincts were on high as shadows shifted not far up the road tangling with the density of rain. He reared around his steed in a split second in taking a new direction. Even they were out this treacherous night.

Lightning streaked the sky illuminating for that fraction of a moment the form of a dark hooded rider barreling through the woods. Once more Ruarc geared the stallion away and into the other side of the forest amongst the trees to obscure him. He would need circle around as time pressed if he was to be able to leave this night. A realization trickled that there were only two after him. The implications were not good for there should be more. If they were not after him it meant they were after another of his family. There was no way to find out or tell for certain. Silent prayers were recited in his mind for each of them and their safety as he ducked under a low reaching branch in passing. He let the stallion have his head. One that was his father's given him as a gift and now Ruarc held that rapport with Dubh Sgail, who was not your ordinary equine. They lost the Fir Bholg just in time for him to ride his stallion right up the plank of the ship and to the captain right where he stood as a last minute boarder. It took a good purse in convincing but certain names were dropped and his passage accepted.

The rush of water was greeted by the ship as Ruarc dismounted and saw to his stallion below and his own accommodations. It would be a good week or more, depending on weather conditions, before The Puffin stopped at any ports. There were a few on its schedule and the least likely to be followed to was one of them. One that was more a merchandise trading port than disembarking. Three weeks and a half later they ported in Heathfield. For the first time since leaving Eire he felt the weight of the Fir Bholg lift from his shoulders. There was something about these lands that felt like Eire did to him even if so far away. The undercurrents a soothing balm as he stood there at the pier watching the various ones mingle through the shops and taverns. He would need find a place to stay. He would need to find his family. The Yuletide decorations reminded him of the season and the realization he had not even thought of it with his family scattered. Ruarc didn't have any presents to give them except himself in reunion. He wondered as he idly stroke Dubh Sgail's nose and words in Gaelic spoken that which was on his mind. It was time to stop in the shops and taverns and gain the information he needed. The moment was here. He would find Hazel, a matriarch cousin of his father's

In a Druid ritual he became one with the Lion

The Making of the Lion

Ruarc sat before the fire in the solitude of their office. The flames in their continual dance had him scrying in as the past opened up as if he was standing there again. First he was trained by his father to wield a sword to perfection but his father's words rung in his ears still. "Thar bae mooch tae yea mae laddie tae on' day bae as mae. As yea bae grow'in an' yea should'rs broa'in, th' weigh will bae mooch fer yea tae carry. I bae send'in yea tae on' tae train yea eve' mor' tha' mae. Tae mooch thir bae give', mooch will b' expect'd 'n retur'" Ruarc wanted to protest that day but he was not one to ever go against his father's words nor demands of him. It was not only instinctive but respective. At the age of thirteen he didn't wish to carry the weight of his family, his clan on his shoulders one day, the weight of the world it seemed to him at the time. He didn't feel worthy, didn't feel he would be up to such standards as his father. He didn't want to accept there would be a day his father would no longer be with them. More of his father's words came through for he was not to forget them. Ever. "Yea will bae hea' an' bae tae yea tae keep ou' family protect'd an' aliv'. Yea will nee' tae carry 'em 'n yea strengt' yet allow'in 'em tae use thir gifts a' th' sam' tim'. Yea will fee' alon' many a tim' fer yer respon'bilty." He could feel the pressing grasp of his father's hand to his shoulder even now. "Hav' hear' fir I wil' nae ever really leav' yea."

In the years to follow his shoulders broaden physically as well his height soared as he filled out. The Hermit Druid Mitalach was well chosen by his father but Ruarc didn't expect anything less of the great man. Mitalach first taught him how to scry the fires and let Fate show what she would gift him to see, never forcing. What was more important was he taught Ruarc how to interpret what he saw. It was then he first saw the Fomhóire, darkened shadows that loomed over the Keep of their family. They were hazier then but they seemed to pour out of a point in time that wound far back. He asked Mitalach on them but the wizen man could only shake his head. There were things beyond him and only learning the legend would be his guide along with his gifts. His task was to train him the best he could. He was taught how to control the rate of his heart and in turn the very energies that made up his life's force. Heightening them he became as the shadows and could walk the astral planes. They were dangerous as well as using this ability too much could drain him far beyond repair and take him there permanently. He would be taught many things such as this. There were ones far more skilled than him but all would be enough if he used his abilities wisely. Once Mitalach felt he had reached a certain level he brought Ruarc to the ritual field. A sacred place for it was time for him to find his totem and become one.

On summer's equinox he stood naked in the center of the field as Mitalach started the circle of fire around him. One that had a circumference of twenty-five feet. It was a clear night that held the stars to shine above in witness of the invocation below. A special mix of incense was burned and Ruarc drank of specials herbs prepared by the Mitalach to open his mind and body while being protected by the fires. Ancient words of the Druid followed in chanting as he walked the outer perimeter of the fire. Incense burned in the container hung from a chain that swung at his side rhythmically. The flames leaped higher as the smoke spiraled heavenwards enticing nature's sprits to come alive and one to choose upon the man that stood within. A roar split the night echoing from the mountains that surrounded as smoke took on the spirit of the Lion, forming his likeness above the fires. Mitalach's chants increased, encouraging the strength of this spirit to become one with Ruarc. Great jaws opened up as the fires were consumed taking the man down to a crouched position. For a moment the lion stood in Ruarc's place before melting back into his own form. He collapsed unconscious that took him three days to recover. So his training continued as time was spent with Mitalach and split with his family. Gradually more time with the latter but the Druid was seen still to continue honing his skills and keeping them there. It was in his mid twenties while scrying he saw those dark shadows more predominant to gather where his family resided.

The Fir Bholg came like locust with their minions attired for battle. He could see the dust of their trail rising in a dark cloud and the Fomhóire with them guiding in a dark hold over them. Ruarc didn't wait to see any more as he was quick to grab his sword and attire himself for battle leaving the Druid with barely a word. "The' com'." Knowing he would know what he meant and where he was going. Home to battle and in his heart he knew it would be the last time he saw his father. He still had to try to get there in time as his horse raced on. By the time the battlefield was reached he was slashing his way through, at times nearly being taken down when a Fir Bholg blocked his path. He charged and as the one would strike, knowing the blade would be poisoned to their own dark forces, Ruarc became invisible for that moment steel would slice sending his own blade through the black cloak and a mind piercing scream to follow. Mitalach in turn was alerting the Fae to amass and come to the aid of the MacKay clan in this surprise attack.

Unfortunately in playing some of his hand that day in battle, the Fomhóire became aware of Ruarc's training. Aedan and Mikhail were there fighting fiercely but gradually being separated as the force would have it to drive them apart and away from their father. Ruarc charged through just in time to rescue their father but not before he was badly wounded. Wounds that would keep him in Eire when he sent his children away so they could survive. Staying until the last to ensure their survival out. The Fae came in from the flanks scattering the minions with their magical ways. The Fir Bholg fled with the changing course of battle. It was at this time their father told them of lands they could seek refuge to when the time came, one of ilk and protected until they were ready. Where Hazel MacKay, a matriarch cousin, resided and would help them being close to the family. Ruarc and Aedan sought the Elders and were instructed in how to get there. A year later another battle came that showed the growing strength of the Fir Bholg as even the Elders were reached and killed. The decision was made for them by Afton to leave immediately.  The plan to go  separately so the Fir Bholg could not keep track and best chance of escaping safely under the danger posed.
 
The Fir Bholg needed to keep taking down the chieftains and keep the family without leadership, without strength, so they would become easier prey. He and Aedan in charge to protect the others. Two years in passing with three of their siblings still missing, yet hoped alive. Trevet assumed to still be in the Hollow Hills learning from the Hermit Druids there. Eimear and Kynan's fates unknown.

Afton MacKay - Father - 56 - Clan Elder/Warrior  - deceased
Maryann MacKay - Mother - 49 - Died shortly after Kynan's birth in complications
Ruarc Aonghus MacKay - 32 - Clan Elder/Warrior/Druid
Aedan MacKay - 29 - Warrior/Druid
Mikhail MacKay - 28 - Seer, Warrior/Druid
Eimear Rachel MacKay - 25 - Mystical Arts
Kaylea Sophia MacKay - 22 - Animal Affinity/Warrior
Trevet Conley MacKay - 20 - Druid/Historian/Warrior
Kynan MacKay  - 18 - Warrior/Druid

Background History:

From the mists of time came the story of Clan MacKay. In Ireland from ancient times several tribes lived in the northern tier, which was once part of one of the ancient Scottish kingdoms known as Dal Riata. While most of the clan followed two brothers who were deported to Scotland after a battle lost for kingship, their Clan remained. A young man of the Clan fell in love with a girl of the Tuatha Dé Danann and took her as his wife. Tuatha Dé Danann means 'the race of the gods of Danu', Danu was the mother of all the ancient gods of Ireland. They were the powers of light, life and warmth. The children of the couple were strong in the energies of nature and followed the ancient gods.

In time, another son married a woman who was also descended of the Tuatha Dé Danann. This only strengthened their bond with the gods of old. The family drew the wrath of the Fomhóire, which means 'from the sea' and is the name given to the divine powers, or gods of night, death and cold. They were served by the Fir Bholg, or Men of the Builg. They are human but with one difference - their eyes glow with a strange reddish light during battle.

The descendants of the Fir Bholg began to attack the Clan members whenever they could. In particular, one clan, MacEirc, seemed to hold a deep hatred of the MacKays, often employing members of other clans to attack the MacKays, making it seem as if there were many against them. Finally, in desperation, the head of the clan, Afton MacKay, sent his children away from Ireland in different directions. He hoped they would all find one another in the land of Heathfield where a cousin matriarch was known to be by the name of Hazel MacKay. Their mother died long ago, not long after the birth of Kynan. So far, Ruarc,  Aedan, Mikhail, Kaylea, and Adara Giles, Ruarc's fiancee, have made it to Heathfield. Eimear as well the two younger brothers, Trevet and, Kynan have yet to arrive. They have also received word that Afton has not survived the latest attack and are worried their sister and brothers are captives of the MacEirc.

Ban - Meaning "Wife of"
Ni -    Meaning "Daughter of"
Mc -  Meaning "Son of"
O -     Meaning "Grandson or Ancestral"

The Hollow Hills: Dagda, Dahgdha, The Father God

The father god of Irish mythology, his name means 'The Good' he is master of all arts and knowledge, and can be seen as one of the most powerful gods in the Irish Celtic pantheon.

His symbols seem to have been the cauldron (inspiration and wisdom), and the club (probably primal power). His cauldron also has the power to restore life, and was always full, providing endless nourishment for his peoples. The cauldron appears much in Celtic mythology and becomes amalgamated into traditions of the grail in the later Arthurian Romances.

In mythology he is the chief of the Tuatha de Dannan (The people of the goddess Dannan), and was a key figure in the overcoming of the Formorians, the misshapen race who inhabited Ireland before the Tuatha became dominant.

Later, according to the Irish myths, the Tuatha de Dannan become the fairy races under the hollow hills, when Ireland is invaded by the Milesians, so the Dagda becomes a fairy ruler.

The Dagda is also associated with the bardic tradition, and has a magical harp in his possession, which flies into the hands of its true owner when called. The Dagda had sexual intercourse with Morrigan while she straddled the river Unius, she gave him a plan for victory against the Formorians in exchange for his lovemaking.

His prowess as a lover appears many times in the Irish tales, which may link him to fertility; in any event he is the progenitor of many of the Irish pantheon.