Deirdre was my assignment, my forbidden love, a witch with whom I wrote a coveted book.
a supernatural creature of any kind, I am now an urban legend. For I am
wandering soul inhabiting various bodies throughout their mortal life.
of the story unfolds, sometimes with torments, but always with a happy ending.
Only that is not how it turned out for us.
better this time. Let’s say, “Twice upon a time,” maybe?
I feel I can speak on Morgann’s behalf, for I’m him and he’s me. We’re one.
its journey. His body was no longer of use but his soul had lived on, intact,
searching for her frantically. Her? Well, that would be Deirdre, a powerful
medicine woman accused of being a witch.
back when I was still Morgann. I, Morgann, a monk working on the now infamous Book
of Kells. Witch or medicine woman, I couldn’t care less because right from
the start I had that gut feeling she was the one for me, even as I had simply
stared at the river of shiny black hair falling down to her back. It was meant
idea but that was how connected our souls were and still are, somehow. What was Deirdre doing there that day in the
monastery? I didn’t dare ask. After that, I was already too involved to search
for more explanation. My fate was sealed and so was hers. When we were
introduced, we grasped at once that we were made for one another as long as we
lived. Too bad we hadn’t foreseen our time together would be shortened by
greedy people. Hopefully she was resourceful and found a way to escape our
love and breaking the vows of celibacy but I did. When you’re a medicine woman,
there is no such thing as engaging in a passionate relationship with a man, and
not just any man but a monk.
medicine involved plants, charms and casting spells as well. Truth be told, she
was a witch. There was no doubt about it.
When exactly? Not sure. Nobody was good at keeping track around that time. For
some reason, though, centuries later I had a dream about the encounter that
changed everything; it happened in the year 813.
paid to write what she knew about strong medicine and spells. I was one of the
chosen script monks who wrote the book in calligraphy with her, for years.
meaningful they ended up referring to it as poisonous when I’d rather call it
visionary. Who were they? The sleeping partners; narrow-minded judgmental
people who started to get scared of her. Of us. They needed to destroy us.
Deirdre didn’t realize their attempt until it was almost too late.
intentions. Their goal was plain and simple, yet we were too blinded by our
love to see it right from the start. They were seeking eternal life. But it
didn’t work that way. None of them ever figured out how to cast the right spell
at the right time on the chosen person.
work. At once, word-of-mouth spread the tale that soon became legendary. Why?
Well…who could believe in our true fate? A soul that lived on until reunited
with its soulmate, come on!
supposedly poisonous book were referred to as the Black Angel Book.
She loves Nutella and Camembert cheese (not together), carrot cake and cinnamon Altoids.
Her favorite fictional characters are Eric Northman (Sookie Stackhouse series, Charlaine Harris) and Sean Bateman (The Rules of Attraction, Bret Easton Ellis).