In the first book of Selkies' Skins reference is made to how Thomas Harper has a name that is difficult for people to recall well despite it being an extremely common name. This is something that went into his initial design thoughts. I knew there would be a reason for it, and that it was some sort of curse, but I did not have the full story. I played with it anyway though, I don't always have every character's stories for generations back and forward when I start with them. The way I write they are very much living beings.
I pay for this sometimes, such as when they team up to gain indignant retribution. What follows was supposed to be a simple jotting down of the specifics of the family curse. Then it turned into an encounter between Ally and Thomas' deity. Brigid in my universe is friends with Cerridwen. Brigid also happens to be the deity that the O'Drake clan of the Dragon Shaman series serves. This turned out to be a crossover point for the Selkies' Skins and Dragon Shaman series.
*Ryu and BlowingWind in the background paying off Brigid with an offering for getting a bit more of their slice of the world exposed. Ryu still looks pretty disappointed considering he's still not gotten any progress on his track, and B.W. looks pretty amused about making him wait.*
What follows is a bit of lore about Thomas and his ancestor. However for all except one person this also contains a couple spoilers as this is set far in the future in the last year of school for Kirsty and her friends, but before The Big Showdown with Astereth (who has different names and guises for each of my three series, and is making nice little holes in the Tapestry for each. Think of him in some ways as a hungry moth, but not as nice.). Or it might not be that much of a spoiler and could be an alternate track of events. Time's funny like that.
Fire and Shadow
Ally turned the carved carnelian ring over and over in her hand, blushing just as she had when Thomas got down on his knee on the train to school. His sand-blonde hair had kept falling in his eyes, taking the thunder from what she knew he’d intended as a romantic moment. The fire witch actually somewhat remembered hearing the pounding of his heart and hitches of breath as if something Sacred had been in the room too and magnifying everything. Or, perhaps, it had been her own nervousness doing it since there was only one reason he would go down on his knee to anyone.
Then again, her now fiancée was indeed Thomas Harper, a confirmed Priest or Companion to some deity. He still had not told her which of them. All she had to go on was the bardic garb that he wore for the High Day moots, that she went along for to serve as his Anchor and provide him a way home back to the world of Man. His lute was important, and though he loved talismanic and amuletic magics his real gift seemed to be in music and speech. This juxtaposition vaguely reminded her of how her best friend seemed to always be fighting what she was obviously meant to be in order to pursue her love of potion making.
Ally sighed and sank down on her bed, drawing the drapes. Kirsty wasn’t up yet, so she was alone. Still, she wanted privacy. Once more she slipped the carnelian ring, etched heavily in runes in such a way as to produce one connected flowing pattern, and closed her eyes as her hand came to her heart. There was so much about Thomas she didn’t know or understand.
Ally prayed to God, her God, the Nameless, that she had answered correctly. It wouldn’t be right to convert any of her loved ones or friends, they all had their own paths in whatever tapestry Creation dictated. She felt ashamed to pray such a thing to someone so busy, so soon turned her inner monologue to Mary and the Angels. They always listened, even if they didn’t answer. Part of her was glad that they didn’t. To be God Touched, to be Claimed, seemed to her more like a curse than a blessing. Soon her thoughts turned to yearning to know more about Thomas and his family.
Unnoticed by Ally, the night grew late and Kirsty was later than was usual. Her left hand to her heart, she twirled her flaming hair around her finger as she went over and over every detail she knew about her love. Kirsty knew more about David than she herself knew about Thomas, and she’d even gotten to marry first. How they were going to manage this year with the more stringent restrictions on interaction had she had no idea. She didn’t know how she was going to manage this year herself without being able to picnic down by the loch while Thomas practiced. With these thoughts whirling in an increasingly fiery condensation, Ally fell asleep.
“Perhaps, Allison, I can help you somewhat. I’ve been watching you for a long while child.” The voice was warm and bronze as it caressed her ear. “We both have.”
In her dream Ally opened her eyes to find two women sitting on her bed with her, their hair matching her own and both in green, though one dress was crenellated with bronze and the other gold. She began to start, but the other put a hand on her shoulder. “Not yet, stay calm or you’ll burst it. You’ve been praying, I heard and have come. You know me as Saint Brigit, but I really prefer just plain Brigid.” She pronounced it Bride, in a very old style and with a tired smile. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of Cerridwen and I, I’m afraid.”
“I will?” Ally settled further back into the dream, still looking at the women in confusion. “Brigid? Cerridwen? Why? This has to be a dream.”
“Yes, it is, Child. You would also see a lot more of me anyway since you’re marrying my-” she paused a moment, holding back the information she nearly bubbled over and then continued. “My Harper. You’ll have quite a bit to learn when the two of you are ready to set up house together, especially if you’re to have any offspring that are of the child variety. Brigid is here though because there is something that might, likely will, happen in a few months and she will need your help with one of her own.”
Ally looked between the Goddess and the Goddess/Saint with confusion. “What’s happening in a few months?” She couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her gut or the cold around her heart that made her breathing difficult. “What can I do?”
“There, now you’ve gone and scared our firewitch, Cerridwen.” Brigid sighed and rubbed her head, chastising her friend. “The O’Drakes come to me with enough fear for their daughters and their mate-guardians in all this Spirit World jockeying.” You can do a lot because of the love you hold for your friends. For mine own I am hoping that you will serve to rekindle some hope. Cerridwen and I share different facets of creativity, so we overlap a little, and I am hoping that that also help with you now falling under her Claim.”
Ally sat up carefully, the dream holding firm and her eyes going wide. “Of course I’m scared. It doesn’t take Kirsty looking into her crystal to know something really bad has been happening over the last several years. You all have different spheres and can’t just take care of things yourself?”
“Of course not.” Cerridwen answered her, adjusting herself more comfortably. “That’s why we have intermediaries and avatars. Just taking care of something with all our abilities is cheating in the games we all play with each other, no matter how much we love those that are ours. But sometimes there are reasons such as there being even more danger if we act directly. Additionally, humans have free will and it is wrong to impinge too much on it. We created your kind. Most of us.”
Brigid nodded her head, watching the young woman and noting the resolve formed within her heart. “Thank you Allison. I’m sure that when it’s time you will get on very well with BlowingWind and Jewel.” A wistful look crossed her face for a moment as her gaze flicked toward where Kirsty’s bed was outside the drapes, then hidden swiftly by the shifting light of her being. “You might even end up healing a bit more than I’ve just asked of you, depending on what happens in the coming months.”
Ally opened her mouth to speak, but Cerridwen’s finger crossed it. Her tongue stilled, and her vocal cords relaxed from their tenseness. “Too much knowledge ages one before their time. I have seen this happen before with some that have drank from my cauldron. How about I just answer the questions you prayed over so hard, little Allison?”
Ally nodded and Cerridwen removed her finger, laying down next to the young woman and pulling her down again with her in a motherly fashion. Ally’s head landed on her shoulder and she found herself snuggling in as the deity of inspiration began her tale.
“Thomas and his family came to me long ago, around the time that the Makays began to share being influenced by Brigid with Mara and her sister. Time flows strangely for immortals though, so I could be wrong as to the exact timing. It was in France, under a different one of my aspects, much as how your friends David and Floyd serve different facets of the same deity. You have likely figured it out by now whether or not they know each other enough to have done so.”
Ally nodded slowly; she had noted some peculiar similarities, although they also had vast differences.
Pleased, Cerridwen continued and the scene began to form in her mind’s eyes. “Alain was a young man that attracted my attention because of his ability to sing a tale and turn nearly anything into some sort of musical instrument. He was handsome enough, and more than suitably respectful when I visited him in the guise of an old, diseased beggar woman asking for his last bit of bread on his travels within a forest I... enlarged a bit. I really didn’t expect him to give it to me.”
Brigid snorted. “The bread wasn’t what she really wanted.”
“I got that too.” Cerridwen huffed, then clarified when she felt the heat in Ally’s cheeks. “His soul, child. I got his soul after I revealed to him who I really was and offered to grant him neverending inspiration in return for his kindness. He gave me his service, which came with his soul. He still serves me in fact and if you listen carefully some day you might hear him play. Especially at weddings. He helped Thomas at the last wedding you went to in fact.”
Ally opened her mouth, but Cerridwen closed it again. “Alain got to be quite famous for quite a few reasons. For quite a few reasons he was well loved by the ladies anywhere he went. The poor boy found it increasingly difficult to get any alone time so that we could be together for me to inspire him. Even his sleep routinely got disturbed because of rocks thrown at windows, forward and desperate lovestruck women sneaking into his room. You can imagine the lengths my poor bard-mage went to in order to preserve at least some privacy, and sometimes it was males too. The interruptions and lack of sleep began to drive him made and weakened our connection some due to my not being able to feed him my inspiration. He already held the title of Harper by this time, and this over time became his surname. Sometimes, in some areas, they called him Calderon, and this was equally valid.”
Brigid nodded at Ally’s gasp. “It was a mess. Ven’thrith found it all highly amusing. We still suspect that he had some hand in ‘inspiring’ all of those would be suitors since they were so preternaturally adamant. There’s a reason the moon causes madness... and it’s called boredom.”
Cerridwen nodded. “Oh yes, quite the mess. All this attention also caused quite a few hard feelings, so then he had spurned lovers and jealous beaus his devotees had left, some more violent than others. Notoriety, you see, made some rather dangerous times. And so after a while I went to another deity, from another realm for help in protecting my devotee from his devotees and enemies. The deity of secrecy received me, on a night that the Moon went to comfort Mara below the sea. In the darkness he gave me a cloak to hide my beloved. He said it would help, at a price, but that it was the best way he could think of.”
“What was the price?” Ally finally managed to speak, yawning and finding herself snuggling closer to the deity. There was something about her voice and warmth that drew her, and she wanted to curl up with this goddess. Strangely, it was like she had known Cerridwen all her life, just as for some reason Brigid felt so familiar to her.
Brigid laid down beside them and put her arms around both of them. Ally noticed then that there was copper platemail over the dress she wore. How had she not noticed it?
“His musical achievements, his face, his name... Shadow would cover him and these things would be lost to history as if he had never been. The achievements remained, but the credit slipped away. In some ways it was a boon and in other ways it was a curse.” Cerridwen smiled, but it was threadbare. “He went town to town and country to country, playing to pay his way, always well paid and well kept, but when he left he would be forgotten, leaving only the strains of his music, his poetry, and townsfolk dancing and singing songs that they could not remember the origin of. Suiting enough, this gave him a different sort of immortality. Brigid has a few that serve her still in similar ways.”
Brigid nodded an affirmation of the statement with a worn smile of her own. Cerridwen continued while Ally listened, rapt. “He ended up spending quite a lot of time on the coasts when he could bear that no more, to heal and recharge. They seemed to be the only ones that would remember him because I give my gift of soulsong to them, and selkie song is something that is well used to heal soul wounds. However his own name none of them could keep, so they gave him a new name they used for him. Alain Harper became for them Shadecloak Caulderón.”
“What became of him then? He obviously must have had a kid or two along the way.” Ally couldn’t help asking in the natural pause.
Cerridwen smiled, stretched somehow and with a sheen of water in her eye. “He eventually joined the Our Lady of the Sea Abbey after a long life that included losing his wife, two in fact, watching his children grow but be under the same geas that the use of the cloak placed on him, and discovering that his aging was... slowed. He and Father Ronan eventually came up with a method to preserve some selkie history in case something happened to prevent them from passing it on themselves. Father Ronan had visions and it wasn’t an easy time for halfbreeds even then. Alain had a knack for enchanting anything that had to do with storytelling, information, music, which shows true even today with Thomas and his amulets and talismans. They had similarities that made them good companions for each other.”
“Is Tomtom aware of his ancestral history?” Ally shifted a bit in the bed, fidgeting at all the information.
Cerridwen giggled. “Tomtom. You two are so cute. He called you Alal before I came to you, when I told him I was going to be telling you. Did you know she is one of the moon goddesses and called the princess of hearts?” The Deity tapped her nose lightly while Ally blushed... He’d never called her that to her face. “He knows. And now you know too. And you know what he’ll be dealing with as he lives his life, and what you too will be slipping under, and any children you might have. Are you still willing, knowing that any great achievement he makes will survive, but will be one of those things no one remembers who came up with, and knowing that the same will go for you? Only we deities will remember, and we are horrid with dates save for those who are deities of History.”
Ally nodded resolutely. “I’m still willing. I don’t need fame. I just want Thomas in my life, to have a nice little family that we can keep tended. I’m a butcher’s daughter, nothing great or noteworthy.”
“Good then. I approve the match and mark you as one of my own. I think you’ll do well with tending my fires and being his Anchor.” Cerridwen kissed Ally on both cheeks and the forehead. Unseen by Ally a similar glow fell over her face to what Kirsty normally saw from Diana, but more copper-gold than The White Lady’s silvers.
“You do not know how noteworthy you may be. Those that are truly great become so on their own, and usually do not think of themselves as great. You have a role to play, Allison, in many stories you are not aware of.” Brigid murmured, nearly forgotten. “Your time is yet coming and all threads in the Tapestry are needful.” Just as Cerridwen had given the Three Kisses, so too did she, and the glow became brighter.
Between the two Blessings of the fire goddesses Ally felt the fire inside herself grow stronger. Though she was unaware of the glow she did feel the sting and burn as fire licked and danced around her left wrist. She hissed and looked down to see it twining two intricate tongues, similar in some ways to what she saw on Kirsty’s wrist, but henna-colored stylized flames that reached for each other and whorled in imitation of living flame as it died down into just an immobile tattoo. “I’ll remember that... Thank you...” Ally rubbed her wrist with misgiving about what that tattoo might bode as she replied to the deity of the Forge and Well, though she was unaware of all that Brigid was known for. To Cerridwen she couldn’t help but ask. “Um, before you go... I hope I’m not overstepping something... Did you really give birth to Taliesin after eating Gwion as a corn?”
“I did. He’s more well known as Merlin.” Cerridwen answered. “I am glad, after all that happened, that I did so and that I did not kill him as was my first thought. His story though has become distorted. In a way his fate is very similar to Alain’s, now.” The further into the reply she got the further away the goddess sounded.
Soon, Ally was alone in her bed. Her eyes opened and she sat up. There was breathing in the room and she opened the drapes. Kirsty had thrown herself on her bed without bothering to change from her school robes and clutched her pillow as if someone would snatch it away. Ally sighed and got up, pulling a blanket over the selkie-priestess. “Not going to dream well like that...”
Rubbing her eyes, the fire witch rummaged in her chest and pulled out a carefully carved bead in the shape of an owl that someone had strung on a red string. This she hung on the headboard over her friend before laying back down. “What a dream I had... I’ll write that down in the morning... I’ll just get a little more sleep first.”
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This one also has an accompanying "Selkies' Skins" short story set when Kirsty was a very tiny baby that you can read either at the 
