Mark Paren
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The afternoon had settled into the kind of easy quiet that Aiden had stopped noticing he was enjoying until he found himself not wanting it to end. They were on the sofa, shoulders pressed together, Aiden’s phone between them with a playlist running through the small Bluetooth speaker Rowan had left on the coffee table before disappearing with suspicious convenience into his office. He’d handed them two glasses of cold lemonade on his way out, said something about quarterly reports, and clo
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I must confess that I don’t read much poetry. I should definitely read more. This has given me something to think about.
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Life can sometimes feel perfect when you’re fourteen. You tell yourself it will last forever, but you always grow up. Thanks for the comment.
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A little bit more about the vial in the next chapter, though you’ll have to read between the lines. Thanks for commenting.
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Advise accepted. I’ll delete the cliffhanger. Just be warned, there will be conflict in the next chapter. Thanks for commenting.
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I wanted this to be a “breather” chapter. Maybe I should have skipped the last few paragraphs. Thanks for commenting.
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The morning of the third day arrived gray and still, the kind of stillness that felt less like peace and more like waiting. Aiden was downstairs before seven, which was unusual enough that Rowan looked up from the Aga with mild surprise. “You’re up early.” “Couldn’t sleep.” Aiden dropped into his chair at the kitchen table and folded his arms on the surface, staring at nothing in particular. Rowan turned back to the stove without comment. The kitchen smelled of coffee and butter b
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In some way Father Michael’s heritage and religion are aligned. He and Declan are descendants of the Milesians, though they have taken different paths. Glad you liked the chapter. Thanks for commenting.
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“blood boil…an ignorant pile of human filth and excrement with a bad case of oral diarrhea…..” is that from ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas?’
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They left Trinity College in the early afternoon, the weight of the Long Room and the glowing pages of the Book of Kells still lingering in the air between them. The city felt louder after the hushed reverence of the library, but Cianán moved more slowly than usual, his steps measured as though each one cost him something small and unseen. “I’d like you boys to see Newgrange,” Declan said as they reached the car. “Carrowkeel has more tombs, but none of them match the size and grandeur of Ne
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Cianàn has a connection to the vial, but it is only a hint at his true nature. Thanks for commenting.
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Those familiar with the Mythical Cycle of Ireland , may have a pretty good idea. Thanks for commenting.
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Right the “family” was an ruse for Cianàn to join Aiden on the trip to Dublin.
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They left the UCD lab just after ten. The vial was now sealed away in a secure cabinet, logged into the system and no longer in their hands. The morning felt strangely lighter without its weight, yet heavier in other ways. Aiden walked beside Cianán toward the car park. Something felt slightly off. Cianán’s steps were a little slower than usual, his skin slightly paler. Aiden glanced at him sideways. “Do you feel okay?” Cianán gave a small smile. “I am fine. I’m just a little tire
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I can’t say much, but the vial is a harbinger of something to come.
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I’m trying to to keep the pace measured, but it will pick up soon. Thanks for commenting.
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Good points. Declan definitely has his suspicions, but it is so incredulous, he’s unwilling to admit it to himself. I also think Cianàn sees the world differently than 21st century people and didn’t think to give Declan more information on the vial. To him, the vial ‘just is.’ We will learn more about the vial in a future chapter.
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I thought the nature of the story lent itself to a more lyrical style. Thanks for noticing.
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I’m happy you are enjoying the story. Thanks for commenting.
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The late afternoon sun slanted low over Donnybrook, turning the stone walls gold and the leaves on the lime trees a soft, burning green. Declan led the way, hands clasped behind his back, pointing out small details with the quiet authority of someone who had studied the city’s layers for years, even if he only visited occasionally. They started from Donnybrook Hall, strolling down the residential stretch of Donnybrook Road. Declan nodded toward the old granite gateposts of a Georgian house.
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We’ll delve a little deeper into the vial in the next chapter. It isn’t a central character in this story, but hints at something significant to come. Thanks for commenting.
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Aiden and Declan know, but won’t admit it to themselves. Thanks for commenting.
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Declan, Aiden, and Cianán returned from Castlebaldwin in the late afternoon. The SUV hummed along the narrow road toward the farmhouse. Rowan had stayed behind to get some work done. Declan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. Aiden sat in the back seat beside Cianán. The windows were cracked, letting in the cool scent of cut grass and distant lake water. Declan glanced in the rearview mirror. “Cianán, can you join us for dinner tonight?” Cia
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You’re so right.
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It’s all around us, both now and in the past. All our stories are built around those tensions. Thanks for commenting.
