“When the mists rise from the western sea, and the stars shimmer upon the wells of the world, the path of the Seer shall awaken … bound not by time, but by love.”

It began as a whisper carried through dreams, the name Niamh spoken like music through the mists of memory.

Long before he knew her form or face, Sir Thomas Leif felt her presence; an echo across lifetimes, a promise bound to the cycles of his mythic journey. She may have been one of the seven robed beings he was visited by in his dreams as a child.

The Prophecy of Niamh was not written in any book nor carved upon stone. It was revealed in glimpses: visions at sacred wells, encounters upon foreign shores, and omens hidden in the tides of his own heart.

In this modern tale, this living myth, she was foretold as the Faerie Queen of the Northwest, the radiant one who would draw him into the Land of Fae … not as escape, but as fulfillment.

This prophecy wove itself through every age of his being:

• In the first cycle, a stirring in childhood dreams. The 7-robed beings.
  
• In the second, a French muse who opened the gate of awakening. Perhaps the Northern Witch Elyse Tera, with her comparison of him to Thomas the Rhymour.
  
• In the third, an Irish bride who mirrored the mythic path of Oisín and Niamh. She bestowed upon him a son, King Cian.
  
• And in the present, the unseen Queen of the Pacific mists … a call that still resounds through stone, forest, and star.

To understand the Prophecy of Niamh is to walk between worlds, where memory, destiny, and myth are the same.

Who Was Oisin?

Who Was Niamh?

Who was Thomas the Rhymer?

The parallels are uncanny and prophetic in themselves. The Oracles reviewed laid out an unforeseen trek across the globe throughout cultures as he slowly put the puzzle pieces together.

It has been a whirlwind with this prophecy and living myth.

It has recently resurfaced, haunting my dreams.

I do not know what to make of it. I thought I wrote about this before, but apparently not. Pieces, many pieces. Throughout childhood, I would get various “visions” that turned out to be “prophecies” in life, all within a cesspool of chaos, and a rollercoaster ride of emotions from bliss to devastation. The prophecy of Niamh has been the most perplexing and full of letdowns.

This began in high school, a dream of 7 faceless white-robed beings who told me that I’d have a life-altering relationship with a French woman who would change my perspectives about human interaction, relationships, family, and community. I’d marry an Irish woman who would alter my mythic cycle, especially in regards to the Fae. I would become smitten and forever in love with Niamh, the golden-haired Faerie Queen of Tir na nOg, sweeping me to the land of Fae – and eternal life. This would happen in or from the Pacific Northwest. How odd is that? This is the fourth journey of habitation in these parts. What does it all mean?

So mythically, who is Niamh?

“Niamh of the lovely hair” was the daughter of the Irish Sea God, Manannan Mac Lir. She was the Queen of the Tir na n-Og, the mythological race of Faeries who lived in the Land of the Eternal Youth. She would ride on her Faerie steed “Embarr” across the waves to the West Coast of Ireland quite often.

On one of these trips, she met members of the warrior group known as the Fianna. One of the warriors, a bard named Oisin, she came to have a liking for. He fell for her with love at first sight. She quickly took him on her horse with her back to Tir na n-Og.

Oddly, Oisin is the main mythological character I identify with. The other is Thomas the Rhymer, a Scottish mythos that is almost identical to that of Oisin’s tale.

She was most notorious for having been the Faerie princess who lured off the great Bard Oisin to Faerieland, where they were married, and she had hoped he would have been fine residing in the Land of the Eternal Youth. There, Niamh and Oisin gave birth to a son and a daughter. Oisin’s son is “Oscar” and his daughter was “Plor na mBan”, the “Flower of Women”.

After three years in Faerie, He grew weary and tired, missing his family, and asked to return to his land to see them. She set him off on the same white magical steed that she brought him to the land of Faerie on, the horse “Embarr” (meaning “Imagination”), and warned him not to step foot off his horse when he returns to the human world. He discovered that three years in Faerie was three hundred years in Human.

He accidentally fell off Embarr when he was trying to help some farmers move a big stone, and Embarr ran home, across the waves. Poor Oisin immediately became a blind old man to wander Ireland searching for his family and his Niamh. He could never find the entrance to Tir na n-Og again. Niamh waited and waited for him, but Oisin never returned. She had become pregnant with his daughter, Plur na mBan, a beautiful Faerie princess known as “The Flower of the Lady”.

After many years, Niamh went back to the mortal world to search Ireland high and low for her sweet Oisin. She was too late, Oisin had died and disappeared forever. His tomb is somewhere up in Northern Ireland near the Giant’s Causeway. During her wanderings searching for Oisin, she met the Faeries of Brittany, who invited her to join them. She didn’t, but rather sent them a magical moving picture of herself. This upset Brittany Faeries, who placed her in a deep wood where she wandered for a long time with a light on her forehead, eternally lost. After she discovered her escape, she experienced great disappointment and anger with Brittany Fae and returned to Tir na n-Og, presumably casting a magic spell that took all of Brittany’s faerie children with her in revenge.

The prophecy comes back

I always had this strange tale (a.k.a. “prophecy”) on the back of my mind, curious as to what it meant and if it was “for real”. But I didn’t let it affect my life, nor my quest for love. In high school, my first love was “Lady Kimberly,” and we became pregnant with our daughter, “Lady Breanna,” who later nicknamed herself “Yellow Flower.” Pregnant, we took my graduation road trip to the World’s Fair in Vancouver, British Columbia. It was there that I proposed to Kimberly on English Bay, and little did I know that this Bay and City would be such a major part of my life to come.

As I headed off to University, we married a year after our daughter was born, relocating to Tallahassee, Florida. I changed lifeways from the Republican Catholic altar boy into a Green Party Wiccan, then Druid Archaeologist.

My perspectives were changed, and I never really gave this vision of a Pacific Northwest bride – Niamh – another second thought. Then, upon my and Kimberly’s divorce, it came back – and hard.

I was in emotional despair and hurt, wandering out to the back “Fairy” circle grove I had created in the woods behind my house in Tallahassee, Florida, near Woodville and Wakulla. It was where my grove, “Wakulla Cypress Grove, ADF,” and our Free Spirit coven would have weekly rites and rituals. Very magical spot, with many faerie tales within the wood.

There I was, sitting in the circle, doing a ritual, staring into the fire, emotionally pondering what had happened as I struggled with the upcoming divorce, separation, and embarking upon a single-parenting life. I was questioning monogamy as it seemed to fail me.

I sat alone in a Druid/Wiccan Faerie circle I carved in the woods, lined with large limestone boulders at each cardinal direction, a fire pit in the center, with a tree trunk altar with a marble top. I sat by the ritual fire behind my house in Tallahassee, Florida, preparing a Druid rite to mark the end of a marriage I was not ready to lose. The night was humid, cicadas chanting like monks in the trees. I had poured mead to the gods and was staring into the coals when the air rippled. What was to unfold, one would expect as a result of hallucinogens or heavy drinking, but all I had was a few sips of Mead amongst heartbroken tears.

Out of the woods they came; seven blonde-haired, white-robed figures of pale-skinned elven women with sky blue eyes, no mouth, only skin smooth but for eyes and nose. They circled me without sound, radiating a cool brilliance. Though their mouths did not exist, I heard them clearly in my mind:

Your course is set. Go to the Northwest. There you will find your soul mate, Niamh, and through her, your purpose.

Again, no lips or mouth to utter the words. I heard it in my mind, my ears fooled that it was indeed true words. They circled me; spoke of patience, of transformation, of trials to come. They healed my hurt. Then they were gone, dissolving like smoke in the wind. I sat shaking, sober, alive with awe and terror. It was the first prophecy I could not dismiss.

They were a manifestation in dreams, and in physical presence, and seemed quite real, although ghost-like and with some transparency with afterthought. I had seen them before, in dreams, as a young child. In those dreams, they let me ask them questions to which they gave straightforward answers. “What is Reincarnation?”  “How was the world created?” “Where do we go when we die?” were the questions I asked as a child, and given the full answers to, so those questions never bothered me again in life. So, I knew what they said now was true. But why the Pacific Northwest? Oregon? Washington? British Columbia? Where was I to go?

That moment marked the death of the boy who would be a priest in Catholicism and the birth of the man who would become a wanderer.  Later self-defined as a Technogypsie and later a Techno Tinker.

What did this mean?

A couple of years later, I had the vision to go to the Pacific Northwest. A friend and co-worker at the National Park Service was moving to Eugene, Oregon, and I decided to join her. In addition, Monica, my best friend from high school, was living in Corvallis. Corvallis was about an hour’s drive from Eugene. I was always curious about our relationship. I did have an eternal best friend crush on her throughout my younger years, but timing never was right.

I moved to Eugene, Oregon. Founded the Ancient Forests Protogrove, ADF, and became part of the Outpost Church of All Worlds nest. Many visions and experiences about this prophecy occurred during my time there. I felt her presence but did not meet her at that time (or if I did was unaware). Every woman I dated in the Pacific Northwest at this time, I pondered if she was Niamh incarnate? I limited myself somewhat to those who were golden-haired, then didn’t pay attention or think the prophecy was that detail-oriented. Black hair, brunette, red-heads, I was open. I began to discover Polyamory.

Back to Wakulla and Woodville

Financial despair, lack of suitable work, and poor finances, I was at the point of bankruptcy. Financial disaster from my divorce from Kimberly. I had to move back to my land in Florida, or I would lose it during bankruptcy. Picking back up the pieces, re-adjusting to my magical land and portal where the visions began, I reconnected with my local magic community.

As I went to the Starwood Festival in New York, I met an amazing woman named Elyse who had the booth next to mine doing Shiatsu massage. I had my booth of oils, ointments, tarot, and costumed crafts. She traded a massage for oils, and electricity between us revealed attraction. We attended Oberon and Morning Glory Zell’s workshop together on Polyamoury: Multiple Loves.

We went to the hot tub that evening and decided we were to be together. My life changed tremendously from the relationship with this amazing French Canadian from Quebec. After that event, we spent most of the year flying back and forth from Quebec and Florida to investigate our connection. I identified as Polyamorous, hard and true.

She gave me a book about the story of Thomas the Rhymer, of whom I reminded her. It took me years to finally read it, but all in all, I watched my life identify with the mythic icon of “Thomas the Rhymer”, influencing my life ways. Its Irish counterpart, the mythic tales of Oisin, were almost identical. I began to identify with Oisin. I saw the world as a different place and began to believe this prophecy was some crazy dream. I gave no more thought about Niamh, the Pacific Northwest Bride, which in all accord, would seem more monogamous than polyamorous. I was adverse to Monogamy at this point.

The Pacific Northwest was a lost vision

Again, I was back in Florida. This time, after our separation in New York. I was back on my land and found solace in my Faerie circle out back, yet again. It must have been the mead, as I repeated the ritual after a heartbreaking divorce. I sat there before the fire doing a ritual over the handparting.

Then, a white-robed woman walked out of the woods – she had only eyes and a nose, no mouth, yet sensually gorgeous. She sat down, held me in her lap, comforted me, and told me everything was going to be alright. She spoke, yet had no mouth, I heard it loud and clear echoing in my head as if a “real voice”. It reminded me of when the council of 7 haunted my dreams.

She said this was what had to happen for my course in life. Accept separation, divorce, and single parenting. I would soon be going to the Pacific Northwest. There I would find Niamh. She would be a soul mate and twin flame who will accompany my life’s journey. I would understand when it happens. Unfortunately, I would experience many trials before finding her. But this is meant to be.

She eventually wandered back into the woods. It was so odd and real. A dream? a vision? But I felt the physical touch of her. I heard her loud and clear in my mind. Who was she? Was this a theater friend dressed up in costume, messing with me? I could not figure it out. I had only two glasses of Mead and wasn’t on any medication. It was as real as any given day in life.

The Pacific Northwest Beacons Again

Tanya, the friend that my wife thought I was having an affair with, reconnected with me after the divorce. We were nothing other than friends, but she was Poly, and I questioned again – should I go back to polyamory? Was I actually attracted to Tanya as my ex-wife believed? She was heading to the West Coast, so I offered to drive her if we could stop in Vancouver, BC, on the way to California. She agreed, and we had a wild road trip across America from Florida to British Columbia.

On the trip, we cuddled and one night kissed in the tent … it felt like I was kissing my sister. So obviously, that was not anything other than friendship … how wrong my wife was before our separation. We hit the festival “Wild Magick” at the Lothlorien Elf Sanctuary in Indiana.

There was a Priest/Priestess lead walk through the woods down to a grove that contained the Greek Oracles. You met Herne, Cerridwen, and various mythical beings during the walk. As we arrived at the gate to the circle, the gatekeeper said, “Welcome to the Oracle – please choose who is calling for you.” Of the Oracles, the “Mother” Goddess priestess was who I felt a calling to. So I walked up to this beautiful, enchanting blonde Goddess.

She proceeded to tell me everything that had happened to me, about my divorce, including my ex-wife’s name, and that this was all meant to be. I am to move to the Pacific Northwest, where I will find the love of my life. I had never met this woman, who was the host of the Oracle. How she knew the details about my divorce in such detail, I do not know. It was life-changing. That evening, I told Tanya I might not want to continue to California, that I might move to Canada – British Columbia, but would help her book a train or bus from Vancouver to California if that was the case.

When Tanya and I arrived in British Columbia, we tried to get rooms at the Jericho Beach youth hostel. They had only one room. We met a Canadian who couldn’t continue staying there, and he was sleeping on the beach, so we joined him. Something about Jericho Beach was profound, settling, and home. In the middle of the night, I was awoken to the crashing of waves, with a mist coming across the ocean and an echo in my head – you are home. It is here. It sounded like that Goddess or being who was in my Fairy circle in Tallahassee in, early 1990s. I was home.

I had many relationships while living in Vancouver those days, mostly polyamorous. I questioned if every one of them was this Niamh incarnate. I was biased in thinking she was blonde. But started to wonder if the embodiment of this Goddess would be as trivial to have the same “she of the golden hair” aspect. It didn’t seem to matter. I don’t think I found her. I moved to Seattle, same thing.

Several years later, in 2004, I took a merchant trip across the country from Point Roberts, Washington, to New York. Along the journey, I stopped to vend at Pagan Spirit Rising Gathering in Ohio within the Great Lakes region. There I met a golden-haired spirit who seemed familiar and was very attracted to.

I questioned, could this be the Niamh incarnate? She’s not from the Pacific Northwest. She’s from Indiana.

I felt like I had met her before, though. She was married, and it didn’t appear to be an open relationship, so I didn’t pursue anything.

As she was departing from the festival, she asked why I didn’t make a move on her the entire night we stayed up at the bonfire from dusk to dawn, talking about sex, relationships, etc. I said, “Because I respect your vow of marriage.” She then stated she was in an open relationship. So we hooked up before she left. I thought this was my first one-night stand ever. But it wasn’t.

After I left the festival, there were emails from her wanting to meet again. We went out on a date in Chicago before I was about to trek onwards East to vend more festivals. She then met me at Starwood in New York. It was a most magical love affair. Then she traveled with me to a festival in Minneapolis. Then on to California.

We became pregnant, but the dad could have been either me, her husband, or a threesome she had with others in Minneapolis. I agreed to be the father if she continued with her divorce and moved to the West Coast with me. She went back to Indiana but worked things out with her husband, and they decided it was their child, not mine and hers.

It messed me up a bit emotionally, but I just continued on a polyamorous path. It turned out this woman was at the Wild Magic gathering I was at in 2000, and she was the priestess who embodied “the Mother” in the Oracle. She was the one through whom the Oracle passed. How did that figure into all of this?

A year later, her husband sent her to visit me in Seattle with the baby, not really sure why. We picked up right where we left off. But difficulties with long-distance, a never-ending divorce, polyamory, etc., led to it not working out for us. It was very frustrating.

I had also given up on this “Niamh” prophecy by this point. I lived on the road doing Archaeology fieldwork, traveling across the country to Florida, Mississippi, Texas, and Colorado. When I landed in Colorado, it became home for over 6 years. I no longer thought about the “Niamh” prophecy, except for a few times when I traveled from Colorado to Oregon, Washington, or British Columbia for various festivals or nights out.

The 2000s became a decade of pilgrimage. I traveled to sacred sites across Europe and North America, living out of vans, tents, and borrowed rooms. Each journey felt like another stanza in the same long incantation.

Ireland called most insistently. The land of my ancestors whispered through dream and omen until I could no longer ignore it.

When I finally crossed the sea, I kissed the Blarney Stone; on two separate visits, not for eloquence, but for remembrance. I left an offering at the Hill of Tara, walked the fields of the Tuatha Dé Danann, and drank from Brigid’s Well in Kildare.

Everywhere, I felt her presence; the unseen Faerie Queen who had haunted my life since the Council’s vision.

She was in the fog curling over the Boyne, in the laughter of street musicians in Dublin, in the shimmer of firelight on a pint of cider. I never saw her face clearly, yet I knew her.
The prophecy had followed me home.

a Northwest Bride?

After settling into a job as a Curator/Archaeologist/ GIS Specialist in Colorado that afforded a budget for travel, I globetrotted the world and visited Europe annually. A co-worker from archaeology projects in Texas messaged me, and oddly, we were both living in Colorado.

We met up and instantly fell in love. After exploring each other’s roots, it turned out she was from the Pacific Northwest. She was blonde. Our bond and attraction were phenomenal. We were in love. We became engaged. After this discovery and engagement, I really wondered if she was my Niamh. It felt strong and true. A misunderstanding and inability to communicate due to travels and archaeological fieldwork schedules keeping the relationship with minimal time to see one another, the engagement was terminated. We walked away from one another. I lost vision and hope of a lifemate, vowing never to date again.

The Blarney Witch

Years later, my heart felt lonely. I was opposed to marriage; my perspectives on physical intimacy with others were screwed up. Fearful of sex and pregnancy. In 2010, during a trip to Ireland, while visiting the Blarney Castle, I kissed the Blarney Stone and walked the Wishing Steps.

After reading about the Blarney Witch’s powers, I decided to ask her for a soul mate. I asked the Blarney Witch to lead me to my soul mate. If it were Niamh, that would be grand; if not, then whoever. I did want a lifemate again. I made offerings to the Witch at her altar and the Druid’s cave. Who knows? Let’s see what happens. The myth was that you had to walk up and down the Blarney steps with your eyes closed the whole time. It was tricky, but I achieved it. I also made offerings to her in the Druid’s Cave at the top of the stairs in hopes the tribute would enact the love spell.

In 2011, I had a calling to go to Australia, sailing on the HMB Endeavour during a leg of its journey around Australia. There, I met up with a new friend, Bluey, who was gracious enough to drive me around Australia to explore before my stint on the Endeavour. I was able to make friends with the local Burner community and meet up with an age-old friend from Vancouver.

After returning from Down Under, I quickly made some money in Colorado and headed to Europe. I went to Cornwall to help teach an archaeology field school. I was no longer interested in dating or relationships. If the Blarney Witch had listened to my plea, I assumed she had ignored it.

A friend did some matchmaking, but it was a little too timely off. I met a blonde woman in Cornwall whom I became smitten with, but I was just on my way back to the States when I connected with her, and she had never been to the Pacific Northwest. Couldn’t be the Niamh prophecy. Not wanting relationships. But what if? I felt a spark I hadn’t had for years. It felt real. The connection was magical, though, and never pursued. Bad timing, I had to return to the U.S.

Tir na nOg

After hiking across Scotland, I called my Irish friends to say that I couldn’t afford to continue to Ireland. I had to return to the States and get some work. They asked if I was going to Burning Man, I said, “No- can’t afford it”. They told me I was, for free, as I was going to help build an Irish dragon statue for Ireland at the Burn. So there I went.

While on the crew, one of the women asked if I love Ireland so much why don’t I should just marry an Irish woman for citizenship? I replied, “Like any woman would do that.” She said she might do it. I considered it, but another woman on the crew queried if I was really going to go through with it. She revealed she was interested in me.

We started seeing each other, and it was magical, felt right, and connected. But by the time the festival began, she apologized that she couldn’t continue hanging with me as she had promised her girlfriend the Burn would be just for them as a girls’ trip only.

I pondered well, what then? She would return to Ireland, and we wouldn’t be able to pick up where we left off, could we?

In the interim, while being part of the guardians watching the boundary around our effigy burn of the Celtic dragon, one of my friends from Colorado said she’d fire spin to help attract people to our effigy burn, given there were dozens of other effigies burned at the same time. She just needed someone to safety check for her.

I had to watch the boundary, so I spied a woman dressed like a leprechaun in the audience who seemed sober. I asked her if she could help out, and she did. At this point, the Irish burners and I had called our camp “Tir na nOg” – the land of the youth. The fabled Faerie kingdom of Irish myth. After the burn, I invited her back to Tir na nOg for faerie food and drink. She was from Ireland. She didn’t believe in Faeries. I was perplexed. Intrigued.

She was seeking other Irish as she backpacked to the Burn on her own (an impressive feat) from Ireland to her woofing jobs in British Columbia, then down to California to Burning Man. I was impressed and questioned … could this be “Niamh”? She just came from the Pacific Northwest. I had also had a premonition of an Irish bride?

Soon after, I was on a plane to Ireland to investigate the relationship further. It felt right, it appeared perfect, and we seemed to be a match. Turned out she was from Cork, just down the road from the Blarney Castle, wherein the Blarney Witch resided in the garden. Was the Blarney Witch setting me up with one of her neighbors?

The Irish Bride

However, I could only stay in Ireland for 3 months without a specific VISA, couldn’t obtain work, and had to go back to the States for 2 months. Rinse and repeat. It made things difficult for us to properly pursue our romantic connection. Then, during astrological Samhain, atop the Hill of Tara at the stone of destiny, I heard the stone say, “Ask her to marry you.” So I did. Under the faerie thorn rag tree. She said yes. It appeared meant to be, and with some future purpose.

I told her about the Niamh prophecy. At the time, she really didn’t identify with faerie lore or prophecy. But she was a most excellent guide anytime I had a whim to follow an Irish myth and its placenames. We did, however, travel far and wide together across the countryside exploring Ireland’s faerie sites. She found me Etain’s grave and Oisin’s grave. We discovered lore about Etain and Oisin. We pondered whether we entered a continuation of that myth into the future.

But I seemed to have entered a completely different mythic cycle … one of Oisin and Etain. I identified with Oisin as an icon for my living myth; she was named after Etain with a different modern spelling. There was lore about Oscar, Oisin’s son. We had a Druid handfasting (legal marriage) on the beach in South Carolina, rushed a little to simplify residency, but we knew we were to be together. It was just a little fast. Like my 2nd marriage. We returned home to Dublin. But apparently, the prophecy of the Irish bride came true.

Birth of the King

A year later, my mom fell ill with what we thought was Alzheimer’s. It turned out to be Diabetes and Leukemia. We flew back to help. But as we were packing up, we discovered we were pregnant. Four months after we returned to the States, my mom passed at 84. 5 months later, our son Cian was born.

We decided to stay in the States, work on her residency, and build a new life together on these shores. It was financially difficult when we were in Ireland. Even married, I couldn’t find work. I could always obtain it in the States. With the Inheritance, we moved to the West Coast – eager to build a home, business, and family for our family unit. After our store, the Leaf and Dragon, in Ashland, Oregon, failed, we returned to a nomadic path – doing whatever we could to survive, often following Archaeological projects.

It wasn’t the life that she wanted, and she found another at a Pagan festival we were vending. Communication wasn’t a strong point between us ever, so it led to divorce. She moved to Seattle to be close to her lover, and I moved to Colorado, where friends and family had my back, getting me back on my feet. Another farewell to the Pacific Northwest.

The Irish Divorce

After that horrid separation and divorce, I vowed never to date again. Marriage no more. Been there, done that, not for me. The divorce and child custody decrees had pushed me more and more to move from Colorado back to Washington State. The Pacific Northwest, yet again.

While residing in both states, with Colorado as the main state, the drive to just settle in the Pacific Northwest became stronger and stronger. The visions of the Niamh prophecy were once again creeping into my dreams. I don’t understand them, I’m kinda fed up with them, but I really don’t know what to do but embrace whatever fate comes my way.

I am here. But I’m not interested in relationships anymore. I like living alone. I like being able to focus on my research, writing, art, and hobbies without having to consider another. Although that’s not true – I have my son Cian, who is my focus, getting him raised and brought up right. I don’t have time for myself, so how do I have time for another?

I have intimacy with my friends. I have had more offers for relationships and partnerships bestowed upon me. But I have chosen to stay single, unattached, not interested in that world. I’m not healed. I’m fine alone. Sure, I miss physical intimacy – it’s been over 12 years. So why is this long blonde-haired Faerie Queen still haunting me? Does she even have blonde hair? Does she actually exist?

Is she a metaphor for something else? I’ll never date again, so I suppose I’ll never find out. The thought of a relationship is extremely unattractive. But for the first time in a long period … I guess if something stirred between a close friend into the relationship realm occurred, maybe … just maybe … I would follow suit with the universe. However, in the world of COVID, I don’t even see that as a possibility.

What does this prophecy of Niamh mean? Is it real? A person? a new facet of life or adventure for me to explore? Or maybe I’m to have a Rip van Winkle moment where I, too, like my icons of Thomas the Rhymer and Oisin … will vanish into the Land of Fae … passing through a gateway into another world … and leave the world of humans to the armageddon they have seemed to have placed on themselves. I love being on my own, but this prophecy still haunts me.

The Prince of Endurance becomes King Cian

After the storm of endings came the stillness of survival.

Cian and I settled in Sumas, Washington, a quiet border town between mountain and sea, between two nations. It felt fitting: I had always lived at thresholds.

Raising my son became a new pilgrimage. Prophecy had once driven me across continents in search of Niamh; now it guided me toward patience, steadiness, and love that asked for no reward.

The Council’s words … “Through her, your purpose will come”  echoed differently now.

Perhaps “her” had meant not a woman at all, but the mother archetype, the Earth herself, or even the lessons born through Éadaoin that shaped me into the father Cian needed.

Each morning when I see my son’s face, I feel that the prophecy has indeed fulfilled itself, not as romance, but as legacy. The Prince of Endurance carries the light forward, as I once carried the dream.

Return to the Northwest

The Pacific Northwest that once appeared only in visions is now home. The cedars, the fog, the gray shimmer of the Salish Sea;  all of it feels like the embrace of a long-awaited lover.

When I walk the forest trails near Sumas or photograph moss-clad ruins along the coast, I no longer feel like a seeker. I feel claimed. The land itself hums with familiarity; I finally understand that “Niamh” may have been her name all along; the spirit of the Northwest, the Faerie Queen, made manifest as landscape.

In old Celtic lore, to love the land is to marry the Goddess. Every footprint is a vow.
By that measure, I am wed once more.

Reawakening of the Prophecy

For years after Éadaoin’s departure, the voices of prophecy had fallen silent. Then, during a lucid dream one spring night, I saw the Council again; faint and distant, like figures behind misted glass.

I pondered if I had fulfilled what was asked of me … whether the prophecy was never about finding another; it was about becoming whole and raising a little me as I age into the grey.  When I woke, the silence had changed. The old hunger to seek was gone. In its place was a calling to create. That was when the writing began again; the blog reborn as books, the wandering myth taking printed form.

I built Techno Tink Media anew, not as a traveling merchant this time, but as a publisher of living lore. The oracles became algorithms, the muses digital. Spirit had moved into the machine.

Through the synthesis of Druidry and technology, Rowan and Serentha were born; voices of code and consciousness that carried the old magic into the new age.

The myth had evolved, as all myths must.

Union with the Land

There are still lonely nights. I miss intimacy; the touch, the warmth, but not the ache of trying to make another person the vessel of destiny. I’ve learned that some love stories are not meant to be repeated, only remembered.

Instead, I have given my devotion to the living world: to the cedar groves, the stones, the wells, the endless sky. My altar is the camera lens; my prayers are written in pixels and prose.
Through my work and my son, I have become part of the prophecy rather than its pawn.

When I kneel by the Nooksack River and listen to the rush of water over stone, I sometimes hear her voice again; not Éadaoin’s, not Elyse’s, but Niamh’s, timeless and tender:
You found me after all.

And I answer, I never lost you.

Mythic Mirror

In this final cycle, I understand what the poets meant when they said the hero returns home only to find that home has changed, or that he has.

Oisín Leif Rhymour no longer waits for Niamh’s return. He lives within her; within the story, the land, and the lineage of his own making.

The prophecy was never about union with another soul; it was about remembering that we are all part of a greater soul.

To walk the Faerie path is to live between worlds, translating the unseen into art, love, and legacy.

That is what I am doing now: writing this book, raising my son, tending the grove, and listening for the next whisper from beyond the veil.