In the lush, emerald hills of Ireland, where the mist clung to the ground like a veil of secrets, lay a fairy fort. Known to the locals as “Cnoc na Sí,” or “Hill of the Fairies,” this ancient earthen mound was said to be an entrance to the “otherworld,” a realm where the “Good People” dwelled in eternal feasts and magical revelry.

The fort was a circular earthwork, its grassy surface unbroken by time, its secrets guarded by the whispering winds and the watchful eyes of the leprechauns who lurked in the nearby glens. The locals spoke of it in hushed tones, their voices filled with a mix of awe and fear, for they knew that to disturb the fairy fort was to invite the wrath of the Good People, and with it, a cascade of misfortune that could shatter a life.

One summer’s day, a stranger arrived in the small village nestled at the foot of Cnoc na Sí. His name was Finn, a young man with a thirst for adventure and a mind filled with the tales of ancient magic and hidden treasures. He had heard whispers of the fairy fort and the wonders that lay within, and he was determined to uncover its secrets.

Finn approached an old woman, her face deeply etched with the lines of a life well-lived, as she sat on a stool outside her cottage, shelling peas. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, his voice polite and inquisitive. “I was wondering if you could tell me about the fairy fort on the hill. They say it’s an entrance to the otherworld. Is that true?”

The old woman looked up, her eyes sharp and knowing. “Ah, you’re a curious one, aren’t you? The fort, you say? Well, it’s a place of power, that’s for sure. The Good People live there, and they don’t take kindly to outsiders poking about. You’d do well to leave it be, lad.”

Finn thanked her and continued on his way, his mind racing with the possibilities. He was not one to be deterred by warnings, and the allure of the otherworld was too great to resist.

As Finn made his way towards the fairy fort, he stumbled upon a small, bearded figure sitting on a toadstool, polishing a shoe with a cloth. The figure looked up, his eyes twinkling with mischief and a touch of warning.

“Well, well,” the leprechaun said, his voice a raspy whisper. “What have we here? A young man seeking the otherworld, is it? I’ve seen your kind before, always chasing after what they can’t have.”

Finn approached cautiously, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation. “I mean no disrespect, good leprechaun. I only wish to see the wonders of the otherworld with my own eyes.”

The leprechaun chuckled, a sound like the rustling of dry leaves. “Ah, the wonders, you say? They are wonders indeed, but not for the likes of you. The Good People have their ways, and they don’t take kindly to those who disturb their peace. You’d do well to heed the warnings, lad.”

Undeterred, Finn continued his journey to the fairy fort. As he approached the circular earthwork, he felt a strange sensation, as if the very air was charged with an ancient energy. He knelt down, his fingers brushing the cool grass, and in that moment, he felt a connection to something far greater than himself.

The fort was imbued with Druidic magic, a power that had been woven into the very fabric of the land by the ancient ones. Finn could sense it, a pulsating heartbeat that resonated with the rhythm of the earth itself. He knew then that he was standing on sacred ground, a place where the veil between worlds was thin, and the otherworld lay just beyond his reach.

With a deep breath, Finn stepped forward, his foot crossing the threshold of the fairy fort. The world around him seemed to shimmer and shift, the colors blurring into a kaleidoscope of light and shadow. He felt a tug, a pulling sensation that drew him deeper into the heart of the fort, and then, suddenly, he was standing in a place that defied description.

The otherworld was a realm of eternal twilight, where the sky was a canvas of purples and golds, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the distant melody of flutes and harps. Finn found himself in a lush valley, surrounded by towering trees and shimmering streams, their waters sparkling with an otherworldly light.

As Finn explored the otherworld, he stumbled upon a grand feast, a banquet laid out on a table that seemed to stretch for miles. The Good People, resplendent in their ethereal beauty, danced and feasted, their laughter like the tinkling of bells. Finn watched in awe, his heart filled with wonder and a touch of envy.

He approached the table, his eyes wide with amazement as he took in the array of delicacies before him. There were fruits that glowed with an inner light, meats that sizzled and steamed, and wines that sparkled like liquid gold. Finn reached out, his hand hovering over a plump, juicy berry, and as his fingers brushed its surface, he felt a jolt of energy course through him, a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Suddenly, a figure appeared before Finn, a woman with long, swept-back hair and eyes that held the wisdom of the ages. She was one of the Good People, a guardian of the otherworld, and her presence commanded respect and a touch of fear.

“Welcome, traveler,” she said, her voice like the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. “You have been granted a rare privilege, a glimpse into our world. But know this: the otherworld is not a place for mortals to linger. It is a realm of magic and mystery, a place where time has no meaning, and the laws of your world do not apply.”

Finn nodded, his voice barely a whisper. “I understand. I mean no disrespect. I only wished to see the wonders of your world with my own eyes.”

The guardian smiled, a soft, knowing expression. “And you have seen them, but now it is time for you to return. The veil between worlds is thin, but it is also fragile. Disturb it, and you risk bringing chaos and misfortune upon yourself and those you hold dear.”

With a heavy heart, Finn bid farewell to the otherworld, his mind filled with the memories of the wonders he had witnessed. As he stepped back through the veil, he found himself once again standing at the edge of the fairy fort, the cool grass beneath his feet and the familiar scent of the Irish countryside filling his nostrils.

He looked back at the fort, a mix of gratitude and awe in his eyes. He knew then that he had been given a rare gift, a glimpse into a world beyond his own, and with it, a responsibility to honor and protect the magic that lay within.

Years passed, and Finn became a respected elder in the village; his tales of the otherworld were passed down through generations. He spoke of the fairy fort with reverence, reminding all who would listen of the power and the danger that lay within its circular walls.

***

And so, the legend of Cnoc na Sí lived on, a testament to the magic and the mystery that lay hidden in the heart of Ireland, a place where the veil between worlds was thin, and the Good People danced and feasted in eternal revelry, their secrets guarded by the whispers of the wind and the watchful eyes of the leprechauns.

*****

And, you know I mustn’t neglect the obligatory shameless self-promotion. New Yesterdays is available through the following links: Books-A-Million, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon as well as your favorite bookshops. The Audiobook is available from Libro.fm, as well as Amazon.