Page 18 of Rise of the Morrigan
"I cannot say that you are the only one who felt it. But we cannot entertain such feelings... I am here for one reason, to help you master the ríastrad."
"My love, your grace has quelled my rage."
"I am not your love. I cannot be your love..."
Sétanta sighed. "I was under the impression that it was the bards, here, the troop... they were to teach me the bardic arts..."
"And they shall," Fand said. "Once I've attuned the ríastrad to your soul, that it might be one with you... in harmony with your spirit."
"If you could do that, of what use are the bards?"
Fand smiled. "My magic will unite your spirit with that of the ríastrad. But thereafter the beast within you will respond to the dominant condition of your soul. Should anger prevail, the ríastrad will act in kind. But should your spirit know serenity and peace, the ríastrad will emerge as an instrument of valor, of justice, as a guardian of peace."
Sétanta reached out his hand. "Take my hand, kiss me again."
"I desire it... but I cannot... please, you must receive my gift that I might depart before you are found."
"Before I'm found?"
"The bards... they are the ones who brought you here..."
"They brought me to you? Then why must you leave?"
"They brought you here... but they do not know of my presence. If others knew what we could do, how we could influence the ríastrad... your enemies would come after us..."
"Why would my enemies attack fairies?"
"Because in our presence, the ríastrad knows only calm... our magic pacifies the beast within you. It is also why we can never be... were we to be together..."
"I would be vulnerable, perhaps. But I do not need the ríastrad to survive, Fand. I do not wish to be a warrior at all. Allow me to be your lover and I will do more than survive, I will live!"
Fand shook her head. "You cannot escape what you are... I only hope you can find the happiness you seek in my absence. All of Ulster depends on it."
"Fand, please..."
The faerie extended her hand—a wand appeared and as she waved it over Sétanta he felt something inside him change. The ríastrad... it was now one with his soul. He felt, for the first time since the ríastrad had first emerged, something akin to peace. But this peace... it would not endure. Not even the bardic arts compared to this desire, the passion he sensed in Fand's presence. She had been his cure, but if she leaves and returns to her betrothed, he feared he'd never find the peace he required.
Leaping to his feet Sétanta reached to embrace Fand... but as his arms enveloped her she disappeared in a cloud of golden dust.
Sétanta sighed. "Until we meet again... wewillmeet again, my love..."
"My love?" a smooth, deep voice said from near the tent's entrance where Sétanta stood. He turned, and there stood an older man, dressed as most bards tended to dress. Yes, he wore a pair of brógs, fancier than the pair Sétanta had brought with him. He had a long, red beard, untangled and well-trimmed. His shirt had more frills than Sétanta was accustomed to seeing the men of Ulster wear—warriors and hunters, which most of Ulster's men were, dressed with more simplicity. Still, this was a kind man.
"My love..." Sétanta chuckled. "That wasn't meant for you."
"I should hope not!" the bard released a deep-bellied laugh. "But if you have love on your heart, you already have an ingredient that has made for many great bards before you."
"And your name?"
"You may call me Iolo, Sétanta."
Sétanta cocked his head. "You know my name, already?"
"Of course," Iolo said. "Taliesin sent word of your impending arrival."
Sétanta shook his head. "How did he send word? I came here straight away after he told me to see you out.""He sent us word many cycles ago of your arrival, Sétanta. He's not like any other bard. While we learn to tell the tales of old, Taliesin can tell tales still to be told."
"How is that even possible?" Sétanta asked.
