Eithne the Banshee

Stories and Legends

The Myth of Eithne and the Feather of Arawn

Long ago, in the verdant lands of ancient Ireland, before the coming of men and their cities, the land was ruled by powers both seen and unseen. Among the most feared and revered of these was the banshee, the wailing spirit that foretold death. Yet there was one banshee whose beauty and power eclipsed all others. Her name was Eithne, and her story was one of sorrow, courage, and the search for a legendary feather - a quest that bridged the mortal world and the shadowed lands of the dead.

The Curse of Eithne

Eithne had not always been a banshee. She was once a mortal woman, renowned throughout the land for her breathtaking beauty and her voice that could charm the birds from the skies. Born to a noble family, her father was a king who ruled with kindness, and her mother was a healer, known for her wisdom. Eithne had suitors from every corner of the land, but her heart was given to a warrior named Fionn, who was as brave as he was gentle.

Their love was deep, but fate was cruel. On the night of their betrothal, a dark figure emerged from the mists. It was Arawn, the lord of the Otherworld, ruler of the realm of the dead. Drawn by Eithne's beauty, Arawn offered her father untold riches and power in exchange for her hand. Her father, tempted by greed, accepted, and Eithne was taken against her will to the shadowed lands.
In a cave illuminated by a mysterious glow, Flidais, with fiery red hair and a chic black dress, stands amidst enchanting darkness, embodying the essence of mystery and allure.
Meet Flidais, a stunning vision in a black dress, standing in a cave where light dances around her, illuminating her fiery red hair and adding to her enchanting presence.

In Arawn's cold, twilight world, Eithne was made queen, but her heart was filled with despair. She resisted Arawn's advances, mourning for her lost love, Fionn. Enraged by her defiance, Arawn cursed her to become a banshee, one of the wailing spirits who would wander the mortal world, forever separated from the living and the dead, doomed to foretell death but never escape her own sorrow. Her once-melodious voice became a mournful wail, and her beauty became both a blessing and a curse, for though she remained fair, she could no longer touch the world she loved.

The Quest for the Feather of Arawn

Though Eithne was bound to her fate, hope flickered in her heart. A prophecy, whispered by the ancient druids, spoke of a feather from Arawn's own sacred beast - a mythical creature known as the Gwylthyn, a colossal bird that roamed the skies of the Otherworld. It was said that whoever possessed one of its feathers could break the chains that bound them to the land of the dead. The feather had the power to undo curses, to restore life where death had claimed dominion. But to obtain it was no simple task. The Gwylthyn was fiercely protected by Arawn himself, and none who had sought its feather had ever returned.

Yet Eithne knew that if she could find the feather, she might free herself from her cursed form and reclaim her mortal life. Desperate, she set out on a perilous quest to retrieve it.

The Journey to the Otherworld

As a banshee, Eithne could pass between worlds, though the journey was treacherous. She crossed into the Otherworld under the cover of a storm, her silver-white hair whipping around her as she moved through the endless mist. The shadowed lands were filled with twisted spirits, the remnants of those who had failed in their quests for redemption. They whispered to her, offering false promises and luring her deeper into despair, but Eithne pressed on.

For many nights she traveled, following the ancient path that led to the mountain where the Gwylthyn nested. She was guided by memories of the land she had once walked as queen, though time had blurred the edges of her recollection. At last, she reached the mountain's peak, where the air was thin and the sky darkened by eternal twilight.

There, high in the clouds, she saw it - the great Gwylthyn. Its feathers were the color of moonlight, and its eyes burned with a fierce, otherworldly fire. Eithne approached slowly, her heart pounding, for she knew the creature could sense fear. But just as she reached for a fallen feather, the air grew cold and a familiar presence materialized behind her.

The Confrontation with Arawn

Arawn appeared, tall and shadow-cloaked, his eyes glowing with malice. His voice was as deep as the grave. "You dare seek the feather, Eithne? You, who spurned my love and chose exile instead of glory?"

Eithne, though terrified, stood tall. "I seek not your glory, but freedom from this curse. I will no longer serve as your herald of death."
In a misty landscape, Idony stands gracefully with her arms outstretched, embracing the enveloping fog. Her blue dress sways gently in an unseen breeze, evoking a sense of freedom and connection to nature that draws in the viewer to share her serene momen
With arms wide open, Idony invites you into the heart of a foggy realm, where her flowy blue dress harmonizes with the ethereal mist, suggesting a dance with the spirits of nature and the unknown.

Arawn laughed, a sound that echoed across the mountainside like thunder. "You are mine, Eithne. You belong to the dead now, as you always have."

But Eithne was not without her own power. Over her centuries as a banshee, she had learned to command the wind and the night. She summoned a gale, her mournful wail filling the air, as she reached for the feather. The Gwylthyn, sensing her determination, let out a mighty screech and flew into the sky, its wings blocking out the stars.

In the chaos, Eithne grasped a single feather, its radiant light filling her hand. Arawn roared in fury and lunged at her, but as soon as her fingers closed around the feather, a surge of warmth spread through her body. The curse that had bound her for so long began to unravel.

The Return to the Mortal World

With the feather in hand, Eithne fled from the Otherworld, her spirit no longer bound by Arawn's curse. As she crossed the veil into the mortal realm, she felt her body begin to change. Her wailing ceased, and the sorrow that had weighed her down for centuries lifted. Her hair turned golden once more, and her voice, once mournful, returned to its original beauty.

Eithne stood once more as a mortal woman, free from the shadows of the dead. The land, too, seemed to recognize her return. Birds sang, and the wind carried the scent of flowers long forgotten.
A figure stands resolutely in a fog-laden city street, her hair dancing in the gusts of wind. Clad in a sleek black dress, she captures the essence of solitude, surrounded by a misty atmosphere that enhances her ethereal presence.
Bathed in the mysterious embrace of fog, she stands tall on the street, embodying strength and grace. The gentle breeze tousles her hair, hinting at untold adventures and moments yet to unfold in the ethereal night.

But though she was free, Eithne knew that the cost of her freedom had been great. Fionn, her beloved, had long since passed, and her family was but a memory. Yet she did not weep, for she had reclaimed her life and her voice. She traveled the land, singing songs of hope and loss, reminding the people that even in the face of despair, there was always a path to redemption.

The Legacy of the Feather

The feather of Arawn, it is said, still holds great power, hidden in the mortal world. Eithne, though free, never revealed its location. Some say it was buried with her, while others believe it was passed down through the generations, a relic of a time when mortals and the spirits of the Otherworld walked side by side.

And so the story of Eithne became legend, her name whispered by those who sought hope in the darkest of times. Though she had been a banshee, a harbinger of death, she became something more - a symbol of defiance, of courage, and of the unbreakable will to be free.

This is the myth of Eithne and the Feather of Arawn.
Author:

The Legend of Eithne, the Banshee of Lough Mara

Long time ago, far away, in the misty glens of ancient Ireland, where the emerald hills embraced the shimmering waters of Lough Mara, there lay a tale that intertwined love, loss, and the ethereal beauty of a banshee named Eithne. It is said that long ago, during a time when magic and the mundane coexisted in harmony, Eithne was born to a noble family in a quaint village overlooking the lake. Her beauty was unparalleled, with raven-black hair cascading like a waterfall over her porcelain skin and eyes that sparkled like the stars above.

Eithne was renowned for her kindness and compassion. She spent her days tending to the sick and helping the poor, earning the love and admiration of the villagers. Among them was a young man named Fionn, a humble fisherman whose heart beat only for Eithne. He would often cast his nets in the waters of Lough Mara, dreaming of the day he could win her affection. However, the path of love is seldom smooth, and a dark cloud loomed over their destinies.
Selene, dressed in a costume complete with horns, appears ethereal as she gazes into the distance. The haunting atmosphere surrounding her, combined with the intricate details of her attire, invokes a deep sense of wonder and otherworldliness.
Selene stands in her horned costume, an air of mystery and elegance surrounding her, leaving a sense of awe with every step she takes.

One fateful evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, Fionn summoned the courage to confess his love for Eithne. With the shimmering lake as their witness, he professed his feelings, declaring that he would brave any storm for a chance to be with her. Eithne's heart fluttered, but she hesitated. "I am bound by a curse," she whispered, her voice trembling. "My family is destined to lose a loved one each time the moon is full, and I fear the cost of my love."

Despite her warning, Fionn's love burned brighter than any moonlight. He vowed to break the curse that held her family in its icy grip. Together, they sought the wisdom of the ancient druids, who lived in the heart of the forest. The druids, wise and enigmatic, told them that to break the curse, Eithne must perform an act of true sacrifice, giving up something of great value to her.

Days turned into weeks as they searched for a way to save Eithne's family. Finally, one night, they encountered a shimmering figure in the woods - a spirit of the lake, the guardian of Lough Mara. The spirit revealed a path that led to the heart of the mountain, where a rare flower known as the ‘Lúnasa Bloom' grew only under the light of a full moon. This flower possessed the power to alter fate but demanded a price: a vow of eternal solitude from the one who sought its power.

Eithne's heart ached at the thought of losing Fionn, but she knew the weight of her family's curse. Under the silver glow of the moon, she made the difficult decision to pluck the flower, whispering her vows of sacrifice as she did. In that moment, a brilliant light enveloped her, and the curse shattered like glass. However, the price was steep. Eithne was transformed into a banshee, a spirit bound to the shores of Lough Mara, destined to mourn the loss of love eternally.
Amidst the tranquil embrace of a majestic forest, a figure with flowing long hair adorns herself in a sleek black shirt, surrounded by towering trees that whisper tales of nature's untouched beauty in soft hues of green.
Set against a backdrop of towering trees, the allure of Eithne resonates as her long hair dances in the gentle breeze. Clothed in black, she embodies the spirit of the forest, a guardian of nature's secrets wrapped in serenity.

Fionn was devastated by the transformation. Though he had freed her family, he had lost Eithne forever. Night after night, he would stand by the lake, calling out her name, longing for her presence. As the moon waxed and waned, the villagers began to hear Eithne's mournful wail echoing across the waters, a haunting melody filled with sorrow and love.

One night, driven by despair, Fionn ventured into the depths of the forest, searching for the spirit of the lake. He pleaded for her return, begging for just one glimpse of his beloved Eithne. The spirit listened, touched by his devotion. She revealed that true love never dies and that Fionn's unwavering heart held the key to their reunion.

With the first light of dawn, Fionn gathered his courage and returned to the shore of Lough Mara. He stood upon the rocky cliffs, his heart pounding, and called out for Eithne once more. "Eithne! I love you! I will always love you!" As his voice pierced the stillness of the dawn, a figure began to materialize from the mist rising off the lake.

Eithne appeared, more radiant than ever, her banshee form shimmering like the moonlit water. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and for a brief moment, time stood still. Their eyes locked, and in that instant, the bond between them transcended the boundaries of life and death. The spirit of the lake, witnessing their love, granted them one final wish: to be together for just one night.
In a winter wonderland, a striking figure exudes elegance in a dramatic black dress, her long hair framed by delicate horns and a soft scarf as she stands gracefully against a backdrop of pristine snow and glistening flakes.
The enchanting Eithne captures winter's essence flawlessly. Her dark attire contrasts beautifully with the surrounding snow, while her horned silhouette and gentle scarf evoke an otherworldly charm that enchants viewers from every angle.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Eithne and Fionn embraced, lost in a world of their own making. They danced under the stars, their laughter echoing through the valleys, weaving a tapestry of memories that would last an eternity. But as dawn approached, the magic of the night began to fade. Eithne whispered, "My love, you must promise me one thing: do not mourn my absence. Celebrate our love, for it is eternal."

As the first rays of sunlight touched the earth, Eithne faded into the morning mist, leaving Fionn alone on the shore. Though heartbroken, he honored her request. From that day forward, he became a guardian of their love, telling the tale of Eithne to all who would listen. He carved their story into the bark of ancient trees and sang songs of her beauty by the lakeside, ensuring that their love would echo through the ages.

To this day, the villagers of Lough Mara speak of Eithne, the banshee whose mournful wails are but a reminder of the love that transcends the boundaries of life and death. On nights when the moon is full, it is said that her spirit wanders the shores, searching for her beloved Fionn, forever intertwined in a dance of love, loss, and the eternal beauty of a heart that knows no bounds.
Author:

The Parable of Eithne, the Banshee, and the Celestial Map

Once, in the quietest hours of the night, when the wind howled through the peaks of the ancient mountains, a banshee named Eithne lived in the forests of the Emerald Isle. Unlike the other spirits of her kind, who were bound by grief and sorrow, Eithne had long shed the burdens of mourning. Instead, she found herself captivated by the mysteries of the heavens above. She was no longer the wailer of doom, but a seeker of knowledge, of the hidden rhythms that pulsed in the stars.

Eithne's heart, full of sorrow from her past, had been healed by her fascination with the stars. Every night, she would sit beneath the canopy of the universe, her silver hair shimmering in the moonlight, and she would trace the constellations with her fingertips. She had a deep yearning to understand the order and meaning behind the celestial patterns, and she believed that a map of the heavens would hold the key to unlocking the mysteries of life, fate, and the future.
In a red dress that mirrors the intensity of her aura, the Wailing Woman’s long hair cascades down as she wears a demonic mask. The dark makeup on her face enhances the sinister atmosphere, making her presence undeniably formidable.
The Wailing Woman’s fierce expression is hidden behind a terrifying demon mask, her red dress swirling as her presence emanates dark power, sending a chill through the night air.

But Eithne was not alone in her quest. Far across the sea, in the kingdom of the gods, there was a great celestial mapmaker named Oisin. Oisin was known for his intricate charts, which mapped the ever-changing positions of the stars and planets, and he alone held the knowledge of the constellations' ancient names. Oisin was a solitary figure, a creator whose work had transcended the mere beauty of the stars and had delved into the very fabric of the universe itself. He understood the language of the cosmos, and his maps told stories - stories that connected the past, the present, and the future in ways few could comprehend.

One fateful night, as Eithne sat by a quiet stream watching the stars twinkle above her, she heard a voice - a distant whisper, yet familiar. It was the wind, but not the wind alone. It was Oisin, speaking to her from the other side of the world. The voice was gentle but firm, as if the stars themselves were speaking through him.

"You seek the map of the heavens," Oisin said, his voice echoing in the wind. "But what would you do with it, Eithne, if you were to hold it in your hands?"

Eithne, startled yet deeply moved, answered softly, "I would understand. I would learn the secrets of the stars. I would know why we are all bound to this world, why fate sometimes laughs and sometimes weeps. I would help those who suffer, guide them through the dark moments of their lives."

Oisin was silent for a long moment, as if contemplating her words. Then, he spoke again, this time with a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Then come, Eithne, and I will teach you the language of the stars. But beware, for the path to understanding is not an easy one. The stars are not mere lights in the sky; they are powerful forces that have shaped the world since time began. To map the heavens is to understand not only the cosmos but the very heart of life itself."

With those words, Eithne's heart leapt. She knew her journey had just begun, but she also understood the weight of the task ahead. And so, she set off on a quest to meet Oisin, the celestial mapmaker, in a place where the earth met the sky.

It took many moons before Eithne reached the island where Oisin resided, a hidden realm that existed between the world of mortals and the realm of the gods. It was a place of eternal twilight, where the skies were always aglow with the light of distant stars. The air was thick with magic, and the ground trembled with the power of the heavens.
Daera stands majestically in a pristine snow-covered landscape, her blue dress contrasting beautifully with the glistening white. The flowing veil atop her head flutters gracefully in the wintry breeze, embodying a captivating scene of elegance and tranqu
Daera's graceful figure against the snowy backdrop captures a moment of serene beauty, as her flowing dress and veil harmonize with the pristine landscape, inviting thoughts of mystical winters.

When Eithne arrived, she found Oisin sitting atop a great stone table, his hands covered in ink as he worked on a vast celestial map. It was more beautiful than anything she could have imagined - a sprawling chart of the stars, constellations, and planets that stretched across the table like a living thing. The map shimmered with an otherworldly glow, as if the stars themselves were embedded in its surface.

Oisin looked up when Eithne approached. His eyes were deep pools of knowledge, and there was a calm wisdom in his gaze. He stood and motioned for her to sit beside him.

"You have come to learn," Oisin said softly. "But learning is not the same as understanding. To understand, you must walk the path of the stars, listen to their whispers, and feel their power. Are you ready for this?"

Eithne nodded, her heart beating fast. She had never been more certain of anything in her life.

For many years, Eithne and Oisin worked together, mapping the heavens, studying the constellations, and unraveling the ancient stories written in the stars. Oisin taught her the sacred language of the cosmos, the intricate patterns that connected all things. Eithne learned that the stars were not static; they were living entities, each with its own personality, its own power, and its own story to tell. Some stars were warriors, fierce and bright, while others were wise sages, glowing softly in the distance. The constellations themselves were the great tales of the universe - tales of love, loss, betrayal, and redemption.

As they worked, Eithne's bond with Oisin grew stronger. Together, they forged a friendship that transcended time and space, a union of spirit and intellect that brought them closer to understanding the deeper truths of the world. They did not simply create a map - they wove the very fabric of the universe into something that could be read, understood, and followed. They became a pair of celestial artists, painting a picture of the stars that would be passed down through the ages.

But as they approached the completion of their map, something strange began to happen. The more Eithne learned, the more she realized that knowledge came at a price. The stars, with their infinite wisdom, began to reveal the darker aspects of the universe - the pain and suffering that lurked behind the beauty of the cosmos. Eithne saw the fates of countless souls, trapped in cycles of despair, lost in the vastness of time. She saw the suffering that was hidden behind every star, every constellation, every world. And she knew that, though she had gained knowledge, there was no easy way to escape the burden of understanding.

One day, as they completed the final touches on their map, Oisin turned to Eithne and said, "You have come far, my friend. The stars are no longer distant to you. You understand their language, their stories. But now you must ask yourself: what will you do with this knowledge? Will you continue to bear the weight of the stars upon your shoulders?"
A hauntingly beautiful Banshee figure with long flowing hair and piercing red eyes stands amid a dark, fog-laden forest, her ethereal presence captivating all who dare to enter her mysterious domain.
In a shadowy forest, this captivating Banshee weaves an enchanting story of legend and mystery, her otherworldly beauty evoking awe and fascination from the surrounding gloom.

Eithne, gazing at the celestial map before her, knew that the journey was not over. The map was complete, but the true challenge lay ahead. The heavens had spoken to her, and she had listened. Now, it was up to her to decide how to use the knowledge she had gained - to guide others, to heal, to protect, or to simply live in harmony with the universe.

And so, Eithne, the Banshee who had once been a wailer of grief, became a guardian of the celestial map. She traveled across the lands, sharing her wisdom with those who sought understanding, offering them a glimpse into the eternal dance of the stars. She had learned that true wisdom came not from knowing the future, but from accepting the beauty and tragedy of the universe as it was. And through her friendship with Oisin, the celestial mapmaker, she had found the peace she had long sought.

And thus, the story of Eithne and Oisin lives on, a reminder that even the darkest of spirits can find light, and that the stars, though vast and unknowable, are always within reach for those who dare to seek.
Author:
Relatives of Eithne
Banshee
10
10
60
2
Banshee
Banshee
17
3
18
0
Banshee
Morrigan
13
3
18
1
Morrigan
Liath
36
3
18
0
Liath
Aisling
19
3
18
0
Aisling
Banshee Queen
9
3
17
0
Banshee Queen
Caillech
18
3
18
0
Caillech
The Wailing Woman
31
3
17
0
The Wailing Woman
Ban-Shee
0
3
17
0
Ban-Shee
Keening Banshee
7
3
17
1
Keening Banshee
Lian
18
3
18
0
Lian
Eira
26
3
18
1
Eira
Grimhilde
24
3
17
0
Grimhilde
Maeve
11
3
17
0
Maeve
Seraphina
25
3
17
0
Seraphina
Angharad
25
2
12
0
Angharad
Rhiannon
17
3
18
1
Rhiannon
Gwen
12
3
17
0
Gwen
Gwyneira
21
3
18
0
Gwyneira
Isolt
9
3
18
0
Isolt
Macha
20
3
16
0
Macha
Scáthach
19
3
18
0
Scáthach
Catriona
25
3
18
0
Catriona
Eileen
21
3
18
0
Eileen
Niamh
27
3
18
0
Niamh
Elara
29
3
18
0
Elara
Brigid
3
3
18
0
Brigid
Clíodhna
14
3
18
0
Clíodhna
Orla
26
3
18
1
Orla
Morag
9
3
18
0
Morag
Róisín
5
3
17
0
Róisín
Selene
23
3
18
0
Selene
Talia
8
3
17
0
Talia
Lila
12
3
18
0
Lila
Neve
63
4
27
2
Neve
Sorcha
28
3
18
0
Sorcha
Ethna
26
3
18
0
Ethna
Morgana
16
3
18
0
Morgana
Eirlys
22
3
18
0
Eirlys
Beatrix
10
3
17
0
Beatrix
Adara
30
3
18
0
Adara
Lunaria
6
3
17
0
Lunaria
Siofra
12
3
18
0
Siofra
The Pale Lady
32
3
18
0
The Pale Lady
Ysolde
24
3
18
0
Ysolde
Melisande
13
2
12
0
Melisande
Carys
14
3
18
0
Carys
Calista
7
3
18
0
Calista
Faelan
13
3
18
0
Faelan
Siobhan
7
3
18
0
Siobhan
Fionna
12
3
18
0
Fionna
Alana
13
3
17
0
Alana
Mairead
6
3
18
0
Mairead
Dervla
13
3
18
0
Dervla
Flidais
20
3
18
0
Flidais
Nessa
6
3
18
0
Nessa
Clodagh
10
3
18
0
Clodagh
Eimear
16
3
17
0
Eimear
Emer
16
3
18
0
Emer
Breena
12
3
16
0
Breena
Roisin
9
2
12
1
Roisin
Banshee of the Hollow
5
1
6
1
Banshee Of The Hollow
Ailbhe
4
3
18
0
Ailbhe
Aoife
5
3
17
0
Aoife
Muirenn
3
3
17
0
Muirenn
Elowen
11
3
18
0
Elowen
Imogen
15
3
18
0
Imogen
Darina
19
3
18
0
Darina
Orlaith
13
3
16
0
Orlaith
Gormlaith
16
3
18
0
Gormlaith
Alayna
0
3
18
0
Alayna
Liora
5
3
18
0
Liora
Caelia
4
3
18
0
Caelia
Idony
20
3
18
0
Idony
Faerie Queen
5
3
17
0
Faerie Queen
Zinnia
2
3
18
0
Zinnia
Cyra
7
3
18
0
Cyra
Marwen
6
3
18
0
Marwen
Guinevere
25
3
18
0
Guinevere
Freyja
0
3
17
0
Freyja
Niadh
4
3
18
0
Niadh
Daera
9
3
18
0
Daera
Thalia
6
3
17
0
Thalia
Inara
12
3
18
1
Inara
Lysandra
8
3
18
0
Lysandra
Sylvana
5
3
18
0
Sylvana
Arwen
17
3
18
1
Arwen
Lyra
0
3
18
0
Lyra
Myrrh
8
3
18
0
Myrrh
Liara
8
3
18
0
Liara
Ailinn
15
3
17
0
Ailinn
Briony
8
3
17
0
Briony
The images on this page (and other pages) are the fan fiction, we created them just for fun, with great respect for the creators of the stories that inspired us. The images are not protected by any copyright and are posted without commercial purposes.
Continue browsing posts in category "Dark"
You may find these posts interesting:
Baphomet
10
3
17
0
Baphomet
Althea
12
3
6
0
Althea
Gorgon
3
3
18
0
Gorgon
Fiachra
10
3
3
0
Fiachra
Kurl
49
3
18
0
Kurl
Naga
11
3
18
0
Naga
Skag
17
3
18
0
Skag
Altarion
16
3
18
0
Altarion
Home
Terms of Service
Contact Us

© 2023 Snargl.com