It all began with Feena, my mentor, when she had the strangest vision on the night of the solstice. She recounted her vision to me.

"I saw nine scrolls, in the darkest reaches of the earth, in a place where water cannot reach, at the altar where fire cannot burn, in a place where not even a breath of wind is to be found and no earth felt, where only darkness reigns; and yet I saw the scrolls shining like a beacon of hope and knew them for what they were. The long lost scrolls of Danaan."

~The Scrolls~

They are ancient, older than the first Aisling, fragile parchments of a long lost time of our history. They are written in a strange and ancient tongue from a lost race that came to our shores. We are attempting to translate segments of them so that all would know the truth, but alas, I feel my efforts are a poor vessel through which the words may pass, I can only guess at the meanings of many of the words and others just baffle me totally.

I have asked the other followers to aid me in this task, and it will take time as we are few, but we will grow in numbers and so one day all nine scrolls will be translated for all to see.

Please forgive my first attempt at the translation, I know it is incomplete but I thought it best to have some history rather than none. As time goes by the story will be revealed further.

~The age of Danaan~

It was at the end of the of the year 32092, the last year of the Grinneal, the beginning of the sixth Aeon. The mundanes, having lost all arts or curiosity of what was around them other than their immediate needs, saw the arrival of the immortal beings called the Tuatha de Danaan. They landed upon our shores from an enchanted vessel which came out of the southern mist. The vessels were themselves as insubstantial as light, for they were made of fairy magic of spun gold spider silk and mist. When all had left the vessels they disappeared like an illusion, a trick of light never to be seen again.

A new race had come and forever changed the balance of our known world in so many ways that the ramifications were not to be understood even by Danaan until it was too late.

In their coming, it is said that the elements danced in joy of recognition, for once again they were known, and in the knowing grew the power of their being. All marvelled at their infinite grace, all were hypnotized by their beauty. Their wisdom spread to all the four corners of the world, and merged with the few arts and lore of the Aosda that had survived. A time of Harmony settled on the land, all were in a hypnotic stage of blissfulness and joy.

The spell of Danaan's children was such that even when unusual things began to appear, like groves of trees appearing overnight where none had been the day before, none questioned it. This alone should have been a warning for Danaan and her children, for the mundanes had not been a trusting folk in the times before her coming but non took heed , and as her children wielded various enchantments and acts of natural magic, they grew more elaborate and wild.

But like all magic, wild or controlled, when you spread it too thinly and use it too often, the spells hold less and less wonder, the mind becomes accustomed and adapts to its new environment. So passed the age of Grinneal into oblivion so that no thought was given to the past except by a few, and thus a new order was established. The age of Danaan was born and reigned in harmony, but like all dreams and enchantments, they disintegrated like mist in the early sun and eventually led to the unleashing of darkness for the second time upon our land.

The unleashing of the..................This part of the scroll is as yet unclear. The tongue used is so old, and the text so faint, as if the hand that wrote it was afraid of the words.

Her love was...................and so again the text is not easy to read. I fear I am but a poor translator, and my mind is tired. I will have to seek the aid of the fellowship to aid me in this task. It is late and my candle is burning low. I will seek sleep now and pray to Danaan for guidance.

~Last segment of the scroll~

Danaan realised her folly. Her coming to this land had been the catalyst and now what was done could not be undone. The dark was slowly advancing each day, and soon would reach her kingdom here in the heart of the woods. Time was getting short in a realm where time never held any meaning before. Her people had shared their wisdom freely with all the mundanes that would listen, and never thought that they would misuse that knowledge, but she realised that they were but pawns in a bigger game, a game which she had unwittingly entered when her people first came here

Her groves were dying, her people were in pain, and she could hear their cries across the land. The north was already in darkness in her mind, and each day she could hear fewer and fewer. As the land was poisoned with its nothingness, the Darkness was steadily marching its way south and would not stop until all was obliterated.

She was a creature of the light, her essence pure and bright, but even she in her immortal state could do nothing. She was powerless. For how can you fight nothing, a thing without substance, that has no start or end? Where do you start?

Such was the power of darkness, such was its hold that with nothing to hold it back all hope would be lost forever. And so she did the only thing left to do -- she sacrificed her immortality and her individuality so that her essence, her light, would break free from its restraint and fill the world to become the balancing force to the dark. And so began the greatest balance of all times, that of light and dark, in an eternal battle dependant upon each other to fulfill each others destiny.

So great was her sacrifice that all the gods mourned her passing, and stood against the dark for a single moment, for a beautiful and precious sister had been lost. But like all gods, they soon lost that unity, except for Deoch. For Deoch was Danaan's lover, and he still mourns her to this day.

As he carried her body, her blood spilt on the ground. Such was his sorrow and love for her that from that moment sprang the first Aisling soul.

The souls of these Aislings are forever flawed to feel the joys of love, only to have it end in its sorrows, forever to exist in a state of flux, to live from one day to the next never knowing the future, always striving to be better, and ultimately forever damned to fail. The gods, seeing this, performed their last act of unity. They took pity on the new souls and said "We will each take some, and help them where we can," and each cast a boon onto the new souls so that all would have hope, a chance to grow.

In the first spring of her death the first Galanthus (Snowdrop) flower grew, a simple single white flower, where her blood had fallen. That fall Deoch came back to the grove to gather the plant, so that he could have a reminder of his love by his side, but as he pulled the first plant out of the ground there appeared the first Aisling. And so as he pulled more and more plants from Danaan's grove, so appeared more of her new children.

The age of man was upon us.