There was a place of the fairy folk. It had been their domain, their fort, a redoubt against the modern world. But then came two humans, a man, a woman, who had plans.
They wished for gold. They believed that new dwellings, for people from afar, would bring them that gold, without fail. So they sent in the machines of man, the ones with the feet that have no end. The machines that driven, have no tiring. They might work ceaselessly, by day or night, for they have the glowing eyes like the cat.
Under the guidance of these two, the mechanical modern beasts moved and tore away the sacred fabric of the Faeries, to make way for the modern Ireland.
Yet one wise woman who had lived with the older ways, knew the old ones, counselled them, ‘Stop! This is not the place for these doings, only displeasure and ill-doing must come of it. Please, I beg you, stop! The two withheld not their commands and the toiling reaching arms of their servants. So, in this time not long ago, the abode of the Aos Si came down mostly into dissaray and disharmony. Only when it was too late, a fate sealed in the ripped earth, did they stop. The land was moved, the stones were moved, ready for the new, ready for the house building.
As the seasons come and went, without relent, some was given to the land, some taken away. This, life and death, as is the way, maturely. Yet just two years on, two people, a man and a woman, ambitious and lively in their way, no longer walked, strutted, upon our earth. They had passed over, beyond; somewhat early some would say, considering the vigour of their erstwhile endeavours, on the land of the faeries.
They are gone at less than three score and ten of age. The wise woman who counselled them is gone, but not her clarion message – that sought to save the souls of men and the souls stood in the land, for millennia.
I came here, found this tale of the daoine sídhe, and while I sat, with the remaining stones, in silence. I am not a healer of particular note, there are persons I know, for that service. I am the teller, the carrier of the story to you only. I bare witness and simply reflect that it is perhaps wise to listen to the stones, guardians, lore . . . or pay a price for the land higher than you might have bargained for!