The Frewyn Herald: Home of the Haanta Series

We all feel like this at one point or another. A little moment between Karla and Aodhgan:   Karla sat and hugged her knees. She watched Darryn getting on with a few of the villagers, the farmers asking him about the best wood for building a fence. “Aodhgan?” said she, still watching Darryn. Aodhgan turned. “Hrm?” “What do you do when people are mean to you?”   He gave her a curious look. “You mean when people accuse me of being a monster?” Karla nodded and seemed distressed. “When people don’t like you for no reason.” Aodhgan watched her follow Darryn across the field, but he sensed that the question was meant more about herself. He moved closer to her and looked thoughtful. “When I was young, all the unpleasantness from other people I experienced would happen whenever I left our kingdom.” “So, you stopped leaving?” “For a time, but there were times when I had to go to other kingdoms to do things for my father. My father is really my uncle—his brother, my birth...

 Finngeal makes his momentary return: Information was worth the risk of visiting Aith Cliath again, and though he had feelings about returning to the place where he had been imprisoned, his situation was different now. He had training and he had his wolf; no longer was he the young boy unable to fend for himself. He was now what others feared, the white ghost with the silver mane, keeper of stern looks and stone hearts, guardian of the home he once lost, and he no apprehension about seeing those responsible for his imprisonment. They were all dead. His only anxiety now was trying not to kill anyone else. He left early, hoping to reach Aith Cliath by evening. He went through the woods, travelling northeast against the sun, pausing in Cill Chuilinn to send a message home by a spy there, and reaching the main gate of the walled city by sundown. An argument over imported goods broke out at the southern entrance, and Finngeal used the commotion to slip into the city, ricocheting a rock ...

Myndil's adventures take him all over Erie, but what happens when the fae send him northward? To read the full novella, visit HERE The people in the village were still huddled in their homes, peering out windows, waiting for the beast to go away, but even if Aodhgan should hunt enough deer or boar to keep Krampus out of their homes and in good standing with Gryla, the people in the village would only be in danger again a week hence. There was no time, however, to think of a better scheme: the raucous footfalls told them that Gryla was returning, and instead of hunting, Aodhgan had another idea: he was going to let Myndil happen to her. Gryla had never seen him before, so it was only fair. Everyone ought to have Myndil happen to them once in their lives, especially if their lives were hundreds of years long. She was owed at least three happenings by now, and could borrow a few from the abbot if she felt short-changed.            ...

 Aodhgan and Eochaid grew up in Osraige with only their family as friends. Their fortune with regard to friendship changed once a certain someone came along:                 The evening was soon approaching, and the king’s residence was alive with animation, the thrum and bustle of preparation overtaking the main hall: the cook and her assistants brought out the meats and encouraged the fire, the windows were hung round with fine festoons, and all the little cousins were scampering about, running in and out of legs while the tables were being arranged and chairs setting down. Myndil watched and cooed in the elation of what was coming, standing on his toes and clapping his hands at his heart.                 “This is going to be my very first feast,” he declared, “--well, not my first feast ever, because we do have feasts for holiday...