ADELINE

Today is the day. For the first time in my life, I am traveling to another country, and I couldn't be more nervous and excited. It's such a strange mix of feelings. I've always dreamed of going to Ireland, and now, I'm on a plane headed straight there.

My love for all things Irish is due to my fascination with The Di'an Dulaine and my ancestry. I've often been teased for my obsession with ancient civilizations, especially for someone my age. But you know what? I'm eighteen, a grown woman, and I can travel the world and study whatever I wish.

My grandmother has so many wonderful books about Irish mythology and ancient civilizations. She has always been so enthusiastic and supportive of my love for our homeland. She’s been great, but it's not the same as going to a university in the heart of that country.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be touching down in approximately twenty minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts for landing," the captain's voice informs the cabin over the intercom.

I drum my fingers across my lap as I wait. It seems dreadfully slow, but before I know it, we've touched down, and people begin deboarding the plane.

My hands tremble with excitement as I grip my suitcase close to me. I can't believe I'm actually in Ireland. I could squeal with joy, but a small pit in my stomach makes me nervous. What will it be like? I've never been away from home. Will the people be friendly? Will I succeed at school? Will I make friends?

I brush those worries aside. It doesn't matter. I'm going. I'm here. I was already accepted into the school, and there is no going back. The rest will fall into place. I’m finally going to see Castle Dundoire. I can’t wait; I've only ever seen it in pictures.

Finally, it's my turn to leave my seat, and I walk down the narrow aisle past the empty seats ahead of me.

The flight attendant smiles and bows her head, "Have a wonderful visit; thanks for flying with us."

I give her a beaming smile and say, "Thank you, I will."

I bustle out of the plane and navigate the busy airport before finding my way to the main doors. A line of taxis waits out front, and I flag one down.

"Where are you headed, lass?" The driver looks over his shoulder at me. His thick Irish accent solidifies the fact that I am finally in Ireland.

"Castle Dundoire, please." I smile at him in the rearview mirror.

"Aye, right away." The driver pulls out of the parking lane, and we speed down the road.

"You American?" His eyes flash to mine in the rearview mirror.

I nod. "Yes, sir. I live in Maryland."

"Aye, very nice. And you're headed to that fancy school. You must be a smart lass." He grins.

I blush at the compliment and shake my head. "I mean, technically, I am. I just don't often speak of myself like that."

The man grunts and nods. "Modesty is a virtue. What are you studying?"

I take a deep breath, calming my nerves and excitement to start my new education. "Anthropology."

The taxi driver whistles. "Well, that settles it then. You are a smart one."

I smile, and we fall into silence. Beautiful scenery flashes by as we cruise through the countryside. I see a mix of greens, purples, and yellows as we pass by bluebells, foxglove, and wild irises sprinkled among the rolling green hills.

A rumble of thunder in the distance draws my attention, and I look up at the sky. Dark, rolling clouds are hanging on the horizon. The taxi driver whistles again as he peers out the window.

"It looks like a proper storm is coming." He grins at me in the mirror, and I nod.

He grips the steering wheel as we drive over a cobblestone bridge that crosses a beautiful river. Still, under the darkening sky, the water looks almost black.

Another roll of thunder grabs my attention. I notice a large structure looming on a distant hill like an ominous cathedral. It's cast in shadows from the dark clouds hanging over it.

I gulp and pull my sweater closer to my chest. A slight chill fills the air now that the sky has gone dark. Rain patters on the windshield, and the driver turns on his wipers.

"Don't worry, lass, it's just a bit of rain. We get lots of that here. You'll see." He laughs, and I offer him a wan smile.

“But do be careful about roaming alone, especially after dark. Dundoire Castle has a deep and dark history: vampires, witches, all the things you fear in the dark. People disappear out there.”

I swallow my thoughts and fears. I don’t believe in magic or fairytales.

"I know. I've done my research," I say, and he nods as we draw closer to the ominous shadow on the hill.

“Alright, lass, as long as you know what you’re getting into. Ah, there she is. Welcome to Castle Dundoire," the driver says.

I open my car door and hand him my fare. Then, I grab my suitcase and take in the massive turrets of the ancient castle. I barely notice the driver speed away.

This is my home for the next few years as I conduct my studies on the Di'an. It's an honest-to-goodness castle that was transformed into a university two centuries ago.

I'm so excited. The rain feels cold on my skin, so I clutch my suitcase tighter and hurry into the castle’s main entrance.

Inside, things are much more modern than the ancient exterior. There are plenty of lounge chairs, sofas, and coffee tables filling the main hall. There are even a few TVs scattered around the place.

Ancient, priceless works of art adorn the walls, and the light fixtures and chandeliers must be at least hundreds of years old. Even though I can hear the local news on the TV down the hall, the rolling red carpet gives me medieval castle vibes.

People are kind and offer me an occasional, "Hello," as I walk toward my dorm room. I'm relieved when I finally get there. This castle is vast and labyrinthian, and it's going to take me a while to learn my way around.

I open my bedroom door and enter. It's small, but adequate, and filled with old-world charm.

There's a tall, oval swivel mirror, and I look at my reflection, fidgeting with the buttons on the green sweater my grandma gave me. My red hair stands out against the deep green hues.

I smile as I think of Gram, the only family I have left after my parents died in a boating accident when I was five.

I miss my parents, but I can barely remember them. Gram has worked so hard to keep their memory alive for me. They are what inspired my love for anthropology. They’d been researching an ancient civilization said to have lived on an undiscovered island in the Mediterranean when they were lost at sea.

My grandmother did the best she could to raise me as she believed my parents would have. She busted her butt to keep me well-educated and teach me the myths and legends of cultures worldwide.

The last thing Gram said to me before I left was, "Adeline, I'm so proud of you for going away to school to study not just your ancestry, but ancient cultures. I know your parents are looking down on you with pride."

I turn away from the mirror and pull out an old book she gave me. Ancient Spells and Ceremonies of The Di'an Dulaine. I trace my fingers over the leather cover and flip through the pages.

The book is written in Old Gaelic, the oldest written vernacular of this region, and I stare at it in admiration. I've studied ancient languages, and this is my favorite, because it's that of my ancestors.

I don't believe in the magical nonsense associated with the Di'an culture. It was always the people and their civilization that inspired me. It’s the stories, and even the spells and hymns of ancient worlds, that give us insight into how people used to live.

Finding a spell for peace and success in the book, I glance around my dorm room, take a deep breath, and shrug. "I might as well give it a shot. Just in case. Just for luck."

It's a basic incantation. Fortunately, I know Old Gaelic, so I don't struggle too much with the pronunciation. I murmur the words, blessing myself with peace and success, and close the book.

I don't feel different. There are no sudden changes in the room, no gusts of wind or voices from the goddess, but a calmness comes over me. Is it the spell, or just my mind tricking me? I laugh, tossing the book aside as I unpack my things.

An oddness courses through my body as I put away my clothes. Something does feel different. Maybe I’m different somehow. Everything just suddenly feels strange.

"Adeline, you're getting too caught up in superstition. There's no such thing as magic," I tell myself as I put clothes in a drawer.

I tell myself this over and over, but the strange sensation stays with me. Something is different, but I can't put my finger on it.

Maybe it's this place.

Maybe it's my nerves.

Maybe it's me.