Note: all characters are over 18, as set out in the story. This series is for those who enjoyed "The Good Master" type of approach to mind control.
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Master of Elements: Chapter 1 - Fire
"No man or woman born, coward or brave, can shun their destiny." ― Homer, The Iliad
I wondered for the thousandth time what I was doing here. Most likely it was a fool's errand and I was wasting my time. But if it turned out that I wasn't ... then that, in most ways, was even worse. I was a Londoner after all, a child of the big city. The west coast of Ireland felt a long way from home, a wild and windswept place; although in truth it was late summer and the weather was being kind. With the sunshine sparkling on the rollers of the Atlantic and dappling the green hills sweeping down to the ocean, this was a place of fabulous beauty.
I was about as far west as it was possible to get in the old world. Nothing lay beyond save thousands of miles of water until you reached the shores of a continent unknown in ancient times; which, I thought, was a point of curious significance as to why I was here.
I looked back to the layby where I had parked the car I had hired in Dublin and then down at the tiny fishing village that lay on the bay below the headland where I stood. The road down from the clifftop was narrow and scarcely suitable for vehicles. I decided to leave the car and walk down to the village. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes and at least it would delay the embarrassment I faced when I got there.
As I wandered down the steeply sloping road I thought of the ludicrousness of my task. I was here to find someone who I had never seen before and had no idea of their name. All I had to go on was certain physical characteristics I had been told they would possess. I knew she had to be close because the amulet hung round my neck was telling me so, just as it had guided me to this remote place from London, and this being a small community should help, but I still trusting a lot to luck.
I entered what passed for the main street of this tiny settlement which ran on down to a small harbour in which a couple of fishing boats could be seen tied up at the dock. The village didn't possess much in the way of civic facilities, just a small church on higher ground to my right and, nearer the harbour, a pub. I headed for the latter determined to speak to the first person I met.
This turned out to be a burly and thickset man who I guessed was maybe two or three years younger than me, so perhaps about 25. From his dress I guessed he might be a fishermen and he was heading from the direction of the harbour to the pub. I intercepted him just before the entrance and asked my dumb question.
"Umm .... Excuse me. Apologies for stopping you, but I'm looking for someone I think might live near here. I'm afraid I don't know her name but she would be a young woman, very pretty and with flaming red hair. Do you know anyone who would meet that description?" I had anticipated surprise, perhaps confusion, even suspicion at my question, followed by the answer 'no'. I got the latter part but otherwise the reply was not what I expected.
The man started in surprise then his face assumed a hostile expression. "No. There's no one like that here. I suggest you leave now and go look somewhere else Englishman." He said it truculently and for one moment I thought he was going to hit me but instead he just brushed past and disappeared into the pub.
I stood for a moment slightly shocked by his response. One thing that was clear to me was that I was in the right place. He had known from my vague description exactly who I was talking about and clearly was not keen on my asking about her. I rallied my courage and, after a pause, followed my antagonist into the pub.
Glancing round I saw he had taken a seat in the far corner where he was talking to another man. I ignored the hostile stare he gave me and walked over to the guy behind the bar. He was middle-aged, mid-forties I guessed, and I surmised he was probably the owner or tenant of the place. I ordered a Guinness - it seemed best to try a fit in, and anyway I quite like the stuff although I can rarely manage more than a couple - and tried again with my search for information.
"If you don't mind, I have a question," I said. "Only when I asked it to that man over in the corner I thought he was going to punch me. Any idea why?"
"What, Sean?" replied the publican glancing over at where his two customers were sitting, "Well I suppose it depends what question you asked. Are you a tourist? Need directions to somewhere?"
"No, I'm looking for someone in particular but I only have a description not a name."
"Really," said the publican with mild interest. "I'll help if I can."
"I'm looking for a woman. She would be young - say between 18 and 22 - exceptionally good looking and she would be a redhead. You know, really distinctive flaming red hair."
The publican laughed, "Oh you mean Brigit. Brigit McCarthy. She lives on her parents' farm just outside the village. And that explains why Sean was angry with you. He's sweet on the girl - I guess we all are a little - but he's wasting his time. She's too good for him. In fact she's too good for this backwater. A girl as beautiful and talented as that should be in Dublin becoming famous ... or New York maybe."
Brigit, I thought. I should have guessed, of course she would be named Brigit. The Celtic goddess of fire; it fitted perfectly. But also a goddess of poetry and healing I recalled, which sounded nice.
The publican was still talking, "I always knew someone would come and take her away to the bright lights. So what are you? Music producer - she's a fine singer - film agent, recruiter for a modelling agency?"