The Magic Ring of Brodgar
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“I definitely don't have any gift, which I'm quite happy about,” Megan said, laughing.
“Well, that's good. It's probably hard to live with such a thing. To be honest, I don't believe in it. In my opinion, it’s just fiction to give a mystical aura to the clan's history and elevate its importance. Maybe Margaret did brew concoctions that actually helped people, but all that can be explained medically. Back then, there weren't many medicines, and she was known as a good doctor and pharmacist, choosing the right herbs for treatment.”
“And what about her communication with animals?” asked Glenn to her husband.
“Maybe she fed and trained them… set up a zoo next to the castle. And as for reading thoughts, someone probably embellished that part, and thus a legend was born. Most likely, she was just a regular woman with a talent in medicine and a love for animals.”
“And what about the other women in the clan? They had the gift of clairvoyance!” insisted Glenn.
“Perhaps there was only one such person in the clan – Mary. After all, clairvoyants exist all over the world, even today. We only know of Mary McKenzie, who truly had the gift. She lived in the castle from 1632 to 1679. It's said there were others, but no specific names can be given. Mary could see the future and could tell everyone what was, had been, and would be. So, I believe if anyone in our family ever had a magical gift, it was Mary.”
Megan, who had been listening to the couple with interest, asked, “And what do your grandfather and brother think, Warren? Do they agree with your opinion?”
“Yes, they also support this version.”
Glenn seemed a bit disappointed, “You can think what you like, but I believe in all of it. Megan, will you join us for the fern flower festival?”
“Definitely, I'm eagerly looking forward to the day. But I really hope we won't go searching for the fern flower at midnight. Those are the kinds of things I'm afraid of, even though I don't believe in them, you never know… what if…” the girl answered, laughing.
“Don’t worry; we won't be going after the flower. We'll just be enjoying the atmosphere and having fun.”
“Great! Warren, Glenn, thank you for taking the time to share all these stories with me; I truly found them very fascinating. To be honest, I didn’t expect such warmth and hospitality. My sincerest thanks to you both.”
“Come on, Megan! It was our pleasure. As I said earlier today, I hope with time you’ll see that we truly are your family and that you can count on us,” Warren replied, and Glenn added, “I’m also very glad you’re here. Being the only woman among three men, I’ve been missing having a female friend around. I really hope to find one in you.”
“Thank you, Glenn. I think we’ve already become friends. Overall, I’m very grateful that you both agreed to stay with me for a while. I can’t imagine what it would have been like for me alone in such a huge castle.”
Megan set aside her empty whiskey glass, wished everyone a good night, and went to her room. In her bedroom, she listened for any sounds, but all was quiet. She approached the window to see if the mysterious man in the kilt was on the hill. It was empty. With a peaceful heart, Megan took a shower and went to bed. Tonight, she was not troubled by irrational thoughts.
7. Sufferings
Despite Megan going to bed without any worries, her night was tormented by nightmares. Margaret, whom Warren had spoken about the day before, sat in a chair by the window in Megan's room, half-turned with her legs pulled up to her chest, crying, and occasionally pressing a handkerchief to her face. She wore a mourning dress, and her black thick hair was spread over her shoulders. The girl's face was in the shadow of the dimmed light.
Then Megan dreamt of the crypt. She was running through its corridors, hearing behind her, “You can't escape from the past.” This cry echoed from the tomb where Margaret's remains lay. And at the exit from the crypt, Mary, whom her cousin also mentioned, opened the door for her. She appeared to be about fifty years old and must have been a beautiful woman once. Mary said, “Go, it's still possible to change everything.” On a large stone by the chapel sat a black raven, watching Megan. And at the castle's door stood her grandfather Malcolm, who told her, “Thank you for coming, I'm very glad. Now I know you need to be here. It had to happen; the time has come. Mary is right; everything can still be changed. Go forward through life without fear, no matter what and in spite of everything. I will protect you, my girl.”
At these words, Megan woke up. It was six-thirty in the morning. Good thing it's light, she thought, or I would have gone mad with fear after such a dream. Regaining her composure, she noted that the window was closed, and everything was in its place.
Leaving her room, Megan attempted to recall where her grandfather's office was located. She stopped in front of one of the doors, feeling that Gregor had pointed her here. Upon entering, she realized it was Malcolm’s bedroom. Her heart clenched with sorrow. She caressed the pillow on the bed.
Looking around, Megan noticed another door. The manager had mentioned that the office was next to the bedroom.
Indeed, a few seconds later, she saw Grandpa’s desk at the center of the room. To the left there was a lancet window and a bookcase filled with various folders. Behind the chair, on the wall, hung a large canvas in a frame, at the top of which boasted the family coat of arms, and beneath it, the genealogical tree of the McKenzie clan. Sitting at the desk, Megan began to examine the contents of its drawers. In one, she found a bunch of keys mentioned by Warren yesterday. In others, were various documents, seals, and writing instruments. She opened the folder she had brought with her, and for the next two hours, she meticulously studied the affairs of the distillery and all matters related to the upkeep of the castle.
Suddenly, a slight movement at the window caught her attention. Megan froze. Then she turned her head and saw a black raven.
“Oh no! You again! What do you want from me?” she exclaimed with anger and fear. She didn’t like this bird at all. “How much more will you harrass me? Can birds even stalk people?! It’s just surreal!”
She grabbed the folder and dashed into the corridor. Glenn was heading towards her, “Megan, hi. I thought you’d gone somewhere. I knocked on your bedroom door, but there was no answer. I thought maybe you’d gone with Warren to the distillery. Why do you look so scared? What’s happened?”
“Glenn, this might sound silly, but there is a bird that’s driving me crazy – a black raven. I’ve been seeing it every day since I arrived. It’s either by the window where I am, or near me in the field, by the shore…everywhere. It scares me! Aren’t there any legends related to black ravens here?” The girl desperately fought the urge to break into hysteria.
“It’s the first I’ve ever heard of a raven. Take it easy, Megan. I presume, because of the stress you've recently experienced and the legends you've heard, your nerves are on edge. It's just a bird, don't pay any attention to it.”