A year and a day after the fiery blast, it shuddered into consciousness. Hidden in the undergrowth, barely alive, it could not grasp its name nor even its nature. There was only the memory of blinding light and the searing pain that came in its wake. Then a fall into darkness.
But now as it woke, it began to move.
She stepped through the spinney of tangled trees that crept over the back of the small mountain by the sea. The green hem of her gown brushed the damp grass; the earth felt cool underfoot. Stopping to press her ear to the bole of an old hawthorn, she closed her eyes to listen. With a smile, she sang the refrain that coursed through the tree's veins.
Tá grian gheal an tsamhraidh ag damhsa ar mo theach.
The summer sun is dancing on the roof of my house.
She left the spinney and came to a cliff that plunged down to cold waters. Her smile faded. A confusion of memories clouded her thoughts; shadows of another self, another life. She gazed down at the waves that struck the rocks in a fury of white spume. Why had she come here? What had drawn her to this place? Her skin shimmered faintly with a tint of gold. Her hair was wreathed with white blossoms. She stared around her, lost.
Then she froze.
It was like a wound in the earth: a gash of red mist like vaporized blood. Writhing through the grass, it trailed over the stony summit and into the mountains beyond.
She let out a cry.
The wind caught her cry and cast it through the air like a net, a summons. Out on the sea, a gray seal broke the surface. From overhead came the skirr of bird wing and the screech of gulls. A robin landed on her shoulder. Small animals scurried from their hideaways to form a circle around her—foxes, hares, field mice, badgers. On the slope above, a horned goat and a wild deer emerged from the dark of the mountain.
"A demon has entered the kingdom. A shadow of the Destroyer."
Her words were met with noises of dismay and terror. She herself was undone. Trembling, she struggled to keep her voice firm.
"Be of good courage. I will bear this news to the King. You will not be forsaken."
Deep in the mountains, the giant stirred. Something had entered the kingdom that did not belong. He tried to rise but couldn't. All around him was darkness. Were his eyes sealed shut? The smell of earth and stone was suffocating. A great weight lay upon his chest. What enemy had laid him low? What battle was lost on the plain that saw him defeated and entombed? He could hear a song spinning around him, words twisting like cords to bind and restrain. Whose spell enthralled him? He struggled like a wild man, striving to break free, but it was no use. He was blind and powerless. How did this happen? Even as he sought answers in the shadows of his mind, the words pulled him deeper into the darkness, where he drowned in layers of storied memory.