Glenn McConnell
Stories (4)
Filter by community
Smighean
In the early days of the British Isles, the witches and warlocks of legend could be found in every village from John O' Groats to Landsend, as healers, court viziers, soothe-sayers and local wisdom keepers. These druids of the ancient world were well respected and honourable, but like all people, and the gods of pagan pantheons, they were selfish and fickle in nature; Prone to bouts of passion and fury if their loyalties and boundaries were ever betrayed. Smighean was a healer and prophetic priestess of the warmer climes in the South of Great Britain. An olive skinned black-haired maid borne from the union between a traveling Mediterranean potion-master and a Cornish white witch. Her affinity with the Sidhe and Fae's magic realms was exceptional, even when the veil between worlds was entirely unthinned by the celestial cycles. Having been raised entirely by her Mother, schooled in the magic arts since she could draw runes, she had no time for grand ideas and lived a very humble life, despite her obviously exceptional abilities, in a shelter woven from the myrtle plants of the forest itself, by a forgotten ancestor of her matrilineal line.
By Glenn McConnell2 years ago in Fiction
New Worlds
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. That didn't stop Cersei from using her last breath to raspily whisper "Marek" as her mind collapsed unconscious, floating exposed in the cold and dark of interstellar space. The debris of the colony fleet danced and flickered, twinkling like the stars in the night sky, illuminated by the sparks and fires that now scattered and consumed the remains of the refugee flotilla she had stood on, desperately trying to repair, just moments ago. Surrounded by the demolished ships and the millions of other departing souls that had been her fellow crew-mates, crossing the void for the hope of a new world, She could have sworn, in her final moments, that she heard her the sound echoing off a nearby surface. Was that a voice of the afterlife? Had losing life in her corporeal form opened her up to hearing psychic messages through the ether of space? Perhaps, although she was certain it had been the sound of that faint whisper of her final utterance of her brother's name. But the vacuum couldn't carry sound, could it? With this puzzle and the strange vision of a great leviathan of the void intercepting the asteroid cluster that was disintegrating the rest of the Antediluvian fleet, she let go of the mortal coil and passed out of consciousness.
By Glenn McConnell3 years ago in Fiction
