The Fomorians

The Greek gods battled the Titans. The Norse gods, the Aesir, had mortal enemies in the Jotunn. Not to be left out, the Irish gods, the Tuatha Dé Danann, had the Fomorians, demonic giants whom they battled for possession of Ireland.

The origin of the Fomorians is open to interpretation. If you break down their name -- Fo means below or beneath -- Mo means sea. This could mean they came either from the sea or some form of underworld. Or maybe both. After all, they are connected to Domnu, a primordial goddess commonly known as "The Queen of the Dark Places." Who's to say those dark places exist both underground and in the ocean depths?

The Fomorians are mentioned early on in the Book of Invasions, which chronicles the different tribes that called Ireland home, before and after the Tuatha Dé Danann. In the beginning, the Fomorians weren't depicted as being demonic giants. Instead, they came off more like pirates from some unknown land. 

As a writer, I took some liberty with the Fomorians' origins for my Colin Caulfield and the Irish Gods series. I portray the Fomorians as originally being human pirates who worshipped Domnu. They tried to take over Ireland multiple times. After constantly failing, their egos broken, they looked to their goddess for help and begged Domnu to give them the power to defeat their enemies and take over Ireland. Domnu listened and turned them into the monsters they are today.

Fomorians appear grotesque and misshapen. Some even have animal heads or missing or multiple body parts. I shouldn't say all of them. Some Fomorians are born human-looking and even considered "darkly beautiful." It reminds me of how the Frost Giants on Norse mythology were said to have incredibly beautiful daughters -- for no discernible reason whatsoever. 

There is one Fomorian I want to focus on in particular, because he is set to make his presence felt in the second installment of Colin Caulfield and the Irish Gods -- The Fifth Cycle: Lost Gods.

His name is Balor.

He is the greatest leader the Fomorians ever had and is described as a grotesque giant with one bulbous eye in the middle of his head. That eye remains closed most of the time. For good reason. If he opens it, anyone he stares at dies a tortuous, horrifying death. 

In addition to being a heavy-hitter for the bad guys, Balor and Colin share a very personal connection. It starts with a prophecy, many centuries ago, where Balor learns he will be killed by his grandson. To prevent this from happening, he locks his only -- and very gorgeous daughter, Ethniu, in a tower so no one can reach her. Or least that was his plan.

Cian, one of the Tuatha Dé Danann, learns about Ethniu and the prophecy. He's angry about Balor stealing a prize cow, and out of revenge uses some magic to sneak into Ethniu's tower, seduces her, and impregnates her with triplet boys. 

This prophecy is similar to one involving the Greek Titan, Cronus. In it, he hears how one of his children will grow up and kill him. To keep this from happening, he killed his children -- specifically he ate them. However, at the last second, his wife swapped a stone in place of the youngest child, the boy who would become Zeus, king of the Greek gods. She hid him, and Zeus was raised in secret by his grandmother, Gaia, until he became full-grown, killed his father, and took his place. Before Cronus died though, Zeus made him regurgitate his siblings, who were somehow still alive.

When Balor learns about Ethniu's pregnancy, he makes a similar choice as Cronus. Instead of eating his triplet grandsons though, Balor chucks them into the ocean. Only one of them survives. He is rescued by Mannanán, the god of the sea, and whisked away to the Otherworld where he's raised in secret. This boy grows up to become Lugh, the god of light, the greatest warrior, and master of all crafts. 

Not to mention Colin's father.  

Like Zeus, Lugh grows up to face off with Balor during an epic battle between the Tuatha Dé Danann and the Fomorians. He fulfills the prophecy by killing Balor. In some versions, he uses a magical weapon known as the Invincible Spear. In some others, he uses a sling -- which makes this story comparable to David and Goliath.

At this point in time, The Fifth Cycle: Lost Gods is still a work-in-progress. All I will say is that Balor is set to make his grand appearance -- or reappearance near the end of the book, in what I hope will be a surprising manner. He will continue to make his presence felt in later installments of the series.

Until then, if I plan on releasing The Fifth Cycle: Lost Gods in time for St. Paddy's Day 2024 (I hope, I hope, I hope), I best get back to writing.

The Werewolves of Ossory

         

        I am crazy about werewolves! Wolves too for that matter. The wolf is my totem. It is such a complex and misunderstood animal. They’ve gotten a bad rep over the years and have been portrayed as brutal killers who prey on humans. In reality, they’re not. 

    When I wrote Welcome to Harmony, I wanted the werewolves featured in that book to be as misunderstood as wolves. I also wanted them to have some of the characteristics of wolves such as they are family oriented, mate for life, take excellent care of their young, and actually protect the balance within their ecosystem.

I’ve covered werewolves in the past, in some of my first blog posts. This month though, I thought I’d focus on werewolves in Ireland – since I’ve begun introducing Irish myth and folklore into my books.

A long time ago, wolves were a fundamental part of Ireland’s landscape. However, in the sixteenth centuries, mass wolf exterminations began. From what I’ve been able to tell, this was because wolves were found feasting on the dead following some epic battles. In the seventeenth century, the most extensive anti-wolf legislation and exterminations began, thanks to one Oliver Cromwell, the King of England’s appointed persecutor – I mean, “protector” of Ireland. 

Wolf exterminations continued long after Cromwell’s reign, and as of the 21st century, other than some wolves living in the Dublin Zoo and some on a special wilderness preserve, wolves are extinct in Ireland.

In ancient times, the kingdom of Ossory was the home of werewolves in Ireland. There is no more Ossory. What was once Ossory is now part of County Kilkenny and part of County Laois. There was a legend of a warrior named Laignech Fáelad, who was known to go “wolfing” which meant that he would take on “wolf shape.” Other members of his family would join him, and they would raid local livestock herds as well as hunt in the forest. 

Fáelad and his family were mercenaries and in high demand. They never accepted gold for their services though. Instead, it was said, they took their payment in newborn baby flesh. Yikes! This could be due to their connection to Crom Cruach, one of the ancient deities of Ireland, whose followers practiced human sacrifice. 

Fáelad and his family gained their shapeshifting ability by being cursed back in the 5th century. Saint Natalis was trying to convert the Irish to Christianity. Fáelad and his family were having none of it and howled like wolves while Saint Natalis tried to preach. He became furious and cursed them, turning them into actual wolves. Apparently, at some point, Fáelad and his family must have learned to shift back and forth between human and wolf.

Not all of Fáelad’s family were werewolves though. He was said to be the brother of Feradach mac Duach, the king of Ossory, and the ancestor of subsequent kings who ruled Ossory until the invasion of the Normans in the 12th century.

In that time period, one of the most famous stories about the Werewolves of Ossory surfaced. Gerard of Wales, a priest and historian, wrote a book titled Topographia Hibernica (Geography of Ireland). In it, he told the story – he claimed it was true – of an unnamed priest who encountered a talking wolf in the woods. The wolf begged him not to be afraid. He promised he wouldn’t hurt the priest and then went on to tell him his story.

He and a woman were natives of Ossory. They don’t mention whether or not they were descended from Fáelad or not, but they do reference the curse laid on their family by Saint Natalis (In a later version of the story, he was replaced by Saint Patrick). The talking wolf said that every seven years, a man and a woman in their family were forced to abandon their human form and live like wolves. If they survived, they were allowed to return to human form, and a new man and woman were chosen to become wolves for seven years. 

The talking wolf said that the woman, his mate, had become fatally ill. The talking wolf asked the priest to perform the last rites over his dying mate. In order to convince the priest he would not be committing blasphemy, he pulled back the female’s wolf skin to show she was human underneath. The priest delivered the last rites as he promised, and in return the wolf shared prophecies about the future of Ireland and its English invaders. I couldn’t find any details about what those prophecies contained though.

This is all good stuff and fuel for future stories. The great thing about being a writer and working with material like this is I get to change what I want and make it my own. Since stories about the Werewolves of Ossory didn’t become widespread until the 12th Century, I honestly feel that Christian authorities might have demonized them the same way they did witches. Also, Gerard of Wales' story about the priest and werewolves seems to promote the idea of Christianity over pagan belief. 

        But like I mentioned already, if you have read Welcome to Harmony yet, you know I love dealing with misunderstood werewolves.

The Changeling

 

    This month I shall focus on one of the most popular figures in Irish myth and folklore next to the leprechaun and the banshee. I'm talking about the changeling. In most stories, it is a fairy infant that is sickly and dying. In others, it's an elderly fairy that is approaching a similar fate.

    Fairies have an attraction for all things beautiful, especially humans -- babies, children, and adults. Some sources say that fairies aren't able to reproduce at the same rate as humans, and if they find a desirable child they will swap it out with a fairy that doesn't have long to live. A bit of illusion casting aka a glamour spell and no one knows the difference.

    You can imagine, long ago, when these stories were first told, that infant mortality was pretty high. Children were stillborn or simply got sick and died. It would probably bring some consolation to these distraught families to believe their child was still alive and enjoying that life to the fullest in a magical kingdom. 

    Abductees weren't limited to children and babies either. Human men and women were said to be taken away by fairies too. These were exceptionally beautiful men and women who often had some sort of special talent. Human-fairy offspring were supposed to be pretty common. These hybrids were able to reproduce much easier than pure-blood fairies.

    In my research, I did come across a very famous and very "true" story about an Irish woman who was supposedly kidnapped by fairies. In 1895, in County Tipperary, Ireland, 26 year old Bridget Cleary was murdered by her husband who had claimed she wasn't Bridget at all. Instead, she was a changeling who'd replaced his stolen wife.

    Bridget's husband, Michael, worked as a cooper, constructing barrels and other items, while she worked as a dressmaker's assistant. Bridget also took care of local family members, often delivering food and essentials to them. Her husband did not like this very much, especially since on one of her routes she had to pass by a known faerie circle (or faerie mound). These were ancient stone structures, usually circular forts that had long been abandoned by humans and were said to have been taken over by fairies. Legend had it, if you got too close to a faerie circle or a faerie mound, you might get kidnapped -- especially if you were a beautiful and talented young woman like Bridget. Their replacements were supposed to be noticeable, because they displayed strange behavior at times, fell sick, or had some slight difference in their appearance that was only discernible by someone very close to them. 

    One day, Bridget returned from one of these deliveries and fell very ill. She could not stay warm and complained of a raging pain in her head. This went on for days. Bridget's family came to help. They brought in the local doctor (and a priest to deliver last rites, just in case). The doctor diagnosed Bridget as suffering from “nervous excitement and slight bronchitis” and prescribed some medicine for her.  However, the medicine did not work. Michael, Bridget's family, and their neighbors began to suspect there was more going on.

    Michael believed that the Bridget that had returned to him was two inches taller now and much "finer looks" than his wife. He came to believe Bridget had been kidnapped by fairies and replaced with a changeling. 

    Back in those days, there were people actually known as "faerie doctors" who were called in to handle such cases as this. Michael and the rest of Bridget's family brought in one to examine Bridget. He performed some sort of examination and declared that, instead of being a changeling, Bridget was possessed by a faerie. He force fed her an "herbal cure" that would drive it out of her. Witnesses described Bridget as acting "wild and deranged," but she eventually settled down. She then appeared to have returned to normal. That was until she declared she had a powerful craving for fresh milk. Apparently, fairies loved fresh milk.

    Michael was then convinced she was, in fact, a changeling, and killed her. He buried her in a shallow grave a quarter mile from their home then camped out by the local faerie circle, where he believed Bridget had been abducted. He waited for three nights, thinking she would be returned. 

    But, well, I think we can guess what happened.

    Michael was arrested for Bridget's murder. The story made international news, and scholars and medical experts are still trying to understand what actually happened. The power of belief is strong. We want answers to things we don't understand. When Bridget fell ill, Michael originally called a doctor, which is something someone who believed in the supernatural wouldn't do -- at least at first. When medicine didn't work, maybe Michael was desperate enough to believe that fairies were real. After all, the belief was still widespread especially in the rural areas of Ireland, and like many others Michael was most likely indoctrinated with stories their antics all his life. 

  Mental illness might have been an issue too. Michael might have suffered a delusional condition somehow triggered by how distraught he'd become when Bridget took ill. 

    Or maybe it was a cover-up for an intentional or accidental death. 

   Bridget was a woman who defied social expectations for that time period. She was married but very independent. She didn't seem to want to be a homemaker. She had her own job and didn't bend to her husband's wishes. 

    Perhaps Michael got fed up with this. Maybe he was even teased and ridiculed by other men over not being able to "keep his wife in line." He and the other men in the community decided to punish her, using "faerie magic" as an excuse. In the end, Michael and his friends were only charged with manslaughter instead of murder. Maybe the story they told saved them from the gallows.

    It's still a mystery. And possibly the basis for a future story.         

            

        

    

The Merrow

           This month I’m focusing on the Irish version of the mermaid – the merrow – and she is a far cry from Princess Ariel. In some stories, merrows resemble the sirens of Greek myths in that they sing a song that lures sailors to their death. In other stories, they are more like the selkie, another creature from Irish myth and folklore that I covered in a previous post. 

           The merrow is a gorgeous woman from the waist up and fish-like from the waist down. Her lower body is covered in greenish-tinted scales. She also has green hair which she grooms with a comb. She has a delicate webbing between her fingers which is supposed to resemble the skin between an egg and its shell. It’s interesting that her lower body is described as “fishlike.” In some sources, and popular culture, she has a fish tail. In other stories, she has two legs with feet like fins – which could resemble a fish tail, I suppose, if they were together.

            In most stories, merrows are gentle and affectionate and have been known to marry human men. There is a case of such a marriage taking place in Bantry, in southwestern Ireland, that resulted in hybrid children who were covered in scales and had webbed fingers. Merrows were also supposed to be in possession of a garment that allowed them to take human-form and live on land, much like their selkie cousins. In some stories, it’s a cap – probably like a diving cap. In others, they literally remove their skin to take human form then put it back on when they’re ready to return to the sea.
            Like the selkie, if a human man takes the merrow’s cap (or skin), they can control the merrow. After years of such captivity though, instincts give out, and the merrow will return to the sea. Although , without their cap or skin, I can’t help but think this might be a form of suicide. In some stories, the merrow will take their human lover with them. Perhaps, this is a punishment. The man would most likely drown without some sort of magical intervention.
            Then there are stories where the opposite is true. The merrow will actually kidnap a human sailor and force him to live with her underwater – with the help of a magical enchantment. Unfortunately, in these stories, the merrow is possessive and will go into a jealous rage if their human suitor tries to flee. They might even eat them.
             The merrow appears to have been taken very seriously by the Irish. Many human men were supposed to have been seduced by them over the centuries. It’s believed that men and women with the last names of O’Flaherty and O’Sullivan in County Kerry and County Clare are supposed to be descended from these marriages. I’m assuming the webbed hands and scaly skin was rather subtle or perhaps disappeared over the generations.
             The female merrow or merrow-maiden definitely preferred human males to their male counterparts, the merrow-men, who were supposed to be quite hideous. Descriptions vary, but they sound like something out of an H.P. Lovecraft story. They aren’t very fond of human men, jealousy no doubt, and have been known to abduct sailors and force them to live underwater, through magical means, as slaves.

             I’ve got a couple ideas on how I want to use merrows in future stories. In fact, while researching them, a whole slew of new possibilities came to mind. I will keep you updated on what develops next.

The Selkie

         

    My first young adult novel centered on the banshee. My next one will be about the selkie, and because of that, I decided the selkie would be the focus of this blog post. In a nutshell, the selkie is a shape-shifter that turns into a seal. I’ve been to Ireland, and there are indeed a lot of seals around the coast. The myth of the selkie actually started in Scotland but found its way to Ireland. I have to note the selkie has counterparts in Iceland and some of its surrounding islands. 

    Selkies can be either male or female. They are born in the sea and are able to shed their “seal-skin” and become human when they are on land. That is when they are most vulnerable, especially the females. There are many stories of human males discovering female selkies in their human form on a beach, usually basking in the sun. These men are taken by the selkie’s beauty and will steal their seal-skin. Once they have done that, the selkie cannot change back to seal form and return to the sea. They are also bound to that human male as long as they remain in possession of the seal-skin and end up marrying them.  

    These selkie wives will bear children and seem to live happy lives with their on-land families. However, they secretly yearn for the sea, and if they ever find where their husband has hidden their seal-skin they will take it and return to the sea. This seems awfully cruel for their children, but not always. According to some stories, the selkie will return to visit her children once a year. In other stories, the children are often visited by a large seal who is very friendly toward them. It’s assumed that is their mother. Sadly, there are stories where the children never see their mother again. 

    Selkie men are supposed to be just as handsome as their female counterparts and very seductive. They tend to set their sights on lonely human females who are dissatisfied in their marriages. There are, in fact, a number of families who are said to have selkie ancestors, such as the Lee family in Tralee and the Coneely (later, Connolly) clan in Connemora. 

    Selkies have been the focus of movies and books. The Secret of Roan Inish is an American/Irish   independent film and based on a novel, Secret of the Ron Mor Skerry, written by Rosalie K. Fry. It is about a young Irish girl, Fiona Coneely, who uncovers her family's selkie ancestry and its connection to her lost brother. 

    While I have not read the book, I have seen (and own a copy of) the movie version, and it is indeed quite excellent. The same can be said about Song of the Sea. It is an animated movie from the same team who created the equally amazing Secret of the Kells and Wolfwalkers, which are also based on Irish folklore. Song of the Sea is about a young boy, Ben, who discovers his mother was a selkie. His little sister, Saoirse, has inherited her mother’s shapeshifting ability. She is mute, and Ben must help her find her voice and sing a song that can free the faeries creatures who have been captured by the evil goddess, Macha. 

     I have my selkie story mapped out. However, I will be working on the second book in The Fifth Cycle series next. There has also been some new interest in my Growing up Supernatural series. That might mean another trip to the town of Harmony. If that wasn’t enough, I have plans to write another middle-grade fantasy novel. I will go into more details on that in my latest newsletter.

Dearg Due

                                    

    This week, I decided to focus on the Dearg Due (pronounced DAH-ruhg DU-ah), a lady vampire from Irish mythology. I had used the dearg due before (two of them to be precise) in a previous story but without doing any research first. Now that I have done that research, I have discovered that the Dearg Due is a very rich and complex character and a rather tragic figure. Her story reads almost like a dark fairy tale.

    Dearg Due translates as “Red Thirst” or “Red Bloodsucker.” She was the daughter of a Waterford nobleman that lived two millennia ago. She was beautiful with long silver-blonde hair and red lips, smart, and kind and loved by all the villagers and common folk that lived in the area.

    In what could be considered a bit of a trope, the girl (who would become the Dearg Due) loved a peasant boy, who was kind and pure like her. Their love was strong and passionate. Unfortunately, her father had other plans. He would not waste his daughter’s nobility on a mere peasant and instead arranged a marriage between her and a local chieftain.

    The girl’s husband-to-be had a reputation for being as cruel and violent as she was kind. He was also very rich, which was her father’s focus. They were married, and the girl’s new husband abused her mercilessly. He mocked her in public, often beat her senseless, and used her for pleasure whenever he felt like it. Some versions of her story state that her husband cut her just so he could watch her red blood drop down her fair skin. What made matters even worse was that the girl’s father knew all about the abuse his daughter was being subjected to abuse and did nothing to help her.

    The girl was not allowed to leave the tower her husband had locked her in and could only sit there and wait for him to visit her every night. She also hoped her beloved peasant boy would find a way to save her. Unfortunately, Irish folklore rarely has happy endings. As much as he may have wanted to, there was simply no way the peasant boy could rescue his love. It was beyond his power.

    The girl’s hope vanished little by little. It became replaced with rage. In her final days, the girl felt nothing for anyone and hated everyone. She decided that death was her only means of escape, so she starved herself, hiding the food her husband’s servants brought so they would not suspect anything.

    It was a long painful process, but the girl ended up passing away. When her husband found out, he was barely fazed. Her burial was quick and modest, more befitting a commoner than the wife of a powerful chieftain.

    According to the traditions of that period, when a person who had an “evil” life died, there was a risk they would return from the grave as a monster. Those graves were covered with stones so they could not rise up and wreak havoc. But everyone in Waterford loved the girl and remembered as being a kind, beautiful woman. Little did they know how much rage and hatred lay in her heart at the time of her death. Her grave was shallow and covered only with soft dirt.

    One year later, on the anniversary of her death, the girl rose from her grave. She was now the Dearg Due, an undead monster consumed with rage and hatred for everyone who had done her wrong. Her first target was her father.

    In one version of the story, the Dearg Due killed him in his sleep. In another version, her father was awake, and the Dearg Due had to be invited inside by her father before she could kill him. This would become part of modern vampire lore.

    Her father invited the Dearg Due inside, perhaps out of guilt. She killed him quickly then went after her former husband. In some versions, she attacked him in his bedroom while he was in the midst of an orgy with several women. In other versions, she caught him late at night on the way home from the pub. She drank all of his blood, leaving behind nothing but a shallow husk.

    The Dearg Due then paid a visit to her former peasant lover, bitter and enraged that he didn’t save her – even though there was no way he could. But she found out she still loved him, enough that she spared his life.

    Killing her father and husband created an insatiable hunger for blood inside of the Dearg Due. She roamed the lands of southeast Ireland at night, attacking men who had made the mistake of being out late at night. Many of her victims, she killed on the spot. There were some that she simply drained enough of their blood to make them pass out. They would eventually recover.

    The people of Waterford were desperate to correct their mistake. According to legend, and this also became part of modern vampire lore, it was believed that the Dearg Due returned to her grave before sunrise. Believing she was in her grave, they covered it with a tall pile of stones, hoping to keep her imprisoned. Two thousand years later, the grave can still be found in a churchyard in Waterford under what people now call Strongbow’s Tree. Visitors like to chuck an extra stone on the Dearg Due’s grave to make sure she does not escape.

    Only was she really in her grave when it was covered with stones? Did she have another place to hide out? Did she continue killing but keep it on the down low?

    I do plan on bringing this character to life (pun intended) in a future story. I love the attention that is given to her seeking revenge against her male tormentors. I imagined this appealed to many women during that time who were similarly mistreated. I wonder if it would be popular with women today.

The Pooka

I can’t believe it! The Fifth Cycle has a “connection” with the pooka (No Spoilers.), and I haven’t written about this creature yet. Oh, well. Better late than never. The pooka is a shapeshifter. It takes on all sorts of forms. In fact, its appearance varies with whatever county in Ireland you might encounter it. In County Down, the pooka looks like a short, disfigured goblin. In County Laois, it’s a monstrous giant. In Counties Waterford and Wexford, the pooka looks like a giant eagle, while in Roscommon, it takes the form of a wild goat. A horse is another popular form the pooka is known to take, so is a hare, dog or a young bull. They take human form, too, on occasion. What all of these different forms have in common is that they have black hair, feathers, or fur.

Pookas are mainly known for creating mischief. Their favorite trick is to lure a hapless human into climbing on its back and taking it for a wild ride through the forest. The reluctant rider always survives. They just end up a bit bruised when the pooka tosses them at the end of the ride. 

Pookas are known to be very chatty and helpful too. People were known to seek them out for advice. Pookas were also known to predict the future too. It’s doubtful that the pooka wouldn’t help humans without something in return.

Pookas are typically associated with the harvest-time. When the harvest is brought in, it’s tradition for farmers to leave a few stalks behind. That is known as the “pooka’s share.” If a farmer did not leave the pooka its share, they could expect trouble. The pooka would destroy the farmer’s property, breaking down fences, terrorizing livestock, and destroying crops when it was time for them to come in. They were not without their benevolent side though. If a farmer regularly leaves the pooka its share, it becomes a sort of guardian. The pooka would also use its ability to see into the future to help these farmers, warning them if some sort of natural disaster was approaching. It would also protect the farmer against any kind of threat, human or supernatural.

A few pookas just seem to be helpful by nature. The famous Irish poet Lady Wilde once related the tale of a pooka that took the form of a young bull that secretly aids a farmer’s son with milling corn into flour, ultimately making the farmer very wealthy. If a pooka takes the form of a hare, it will most likely be helpful, wise and even humorous.

The title character in the play/film Harvey is identified as a pooka. The mysterious rabbit character in the movie Donnie Darko, who guides Donnie throughout the movie has been called a pooka as well – or at least serves that purpose.

The pooka is a tremendous character. I’m looking forward to using this new information I’ve learned in continuing installments of The Fifth Cycle. A pooka (or two) might end up appearing in other stories as well.