Darkness. Cold blackness. I feel soggy. I open my eyes to muddy, wet fists. I am crouched close to the earth. It's an earth that is wet with rain, but more importantly, an earth at the end of an Ice Age. I look to the sky and see grey. I open my fists; they reveal flint-napping tools. It would seem I have a creative soul! A brief moment of warming recognition is interupted by a noise. I swing around and see an enterance to a kind of shelter. Inside I can make out my dwindling clan. They are tired and the youngsters are wailing. As I swing my body to make towards them my long hair seems to un-paste itself the sides of my head and hang more loosely, but clumped nonetheless. My animal hide covering slowly loosens as well. As I enter the shelter time seems to stop and move forward at once. When the sensation stops I am laying on a stone cot padded with worn furs. My right leg is in tremendous pain. I dare not try to move it; it is splinted and bandaged in bloody rags. My right leg is broken. It wouldn't be the last time. My clan huddles over me. They are crying. Some tears are of grief, some tears are of happiness and relief; for I have fed them. I will die, but my clan will live. I know in my mind and remember without seeing the act that I had slane some massive, wooly beast and it's meat is heeped beyond the shelter. The hunger, the cold, and the dampness passes; as do I, back to thislife.

I soared from Goibban and into the sky. I soared through a tunnel of blue and white; through clouds cracked by light. I kept going and the clouds began to darken. When it seemed it would storm, I burst forth into clear sky. Before me was the sun with a man standing in front. I saw no features of this man besides his powerful stance in a sillouhette against the light. Below him was the greenest land I have ever seen; gilded in ocean. I looked to the man floating against the sun once more I decided that this was Lugh, Champion the Tuatha de Danaan. Closing my eyes I felt warm, strong, and happy- happy that this is where I had come. Feeling this way I was instantly pulled, or pushed, away, back into the clouds. This time it did storm and I plummetted head-first down to earth. Rain, clouds, lightning, and thunder spun all around me.

My first journey brought me to Bronze Age Europe. I was a Celt living with my tribe at the edge of a forest just north of Greece on a shore of a great lake or river. My first glimpse through my own eyes was of my village. It was bustling with traders and merchants. A group of children chased a dog in front of me. They kicked up dust at their heels. It was very dusty and the wind lifted it all up to the sun in the sky. I squinted my eyes against it's brilliance; that being made even greater from the royal blue sky. My mouth was dry from the dust. I could taste the dirt on my tongue. It tasted wonderful! I realized I was half under a tent roof and looked to my immediate surroundings. I lifted my hands to my eyes and saw strong fists gripping a hammer and tongs. I focused my eyes past these and saw bronze tools, weapons, and ornaments hanging from beams, stacked on the floor, and stacked in carts. In front of my waist was my furnace and I could feel the heat warming my bare chest. I began to sweat. I placed my tools on a bench at my side and stepped out to the open. At this time I stepped out of my body and saw my self in the third person. I was a handsome fellow! About six feet tall, I had dark hair and fair skin that had tanned and darkened with heat and dust. I wore my hair long and sported a full, drooping mustache. I wore a leather band around my left wrist and wore loose, plain dark trousers tucked into hide boots. I wore no shirt.

I stepped back into my body and looked to the forest and in an instant was there. It was a spacious forest- almost like a park- with room enough between trees to pass two horses side by side. It had a grassy floor fed by deciduous and coniferous leaf-fall alike. The ground was soft were Earth's stony skeleton did not portrude from her fertile skin. I could smell grass, flowers, leaves, and dirt; always dirt on my mouth. I was not the only one visiting the forest that day. I walked with a woman! She smiled at me as we walked. She was about my height with a lovely shape. She hair that was the color of farming soil and it fell about her skull like leaves in autumn. She had fair skin with red lips. She wore a dark colored tunic that ended above her knees and wore a decorated belt about her waist. The ends of her tunic were checkered white and red. She had on sandals laced above her ankles. We layed down together; she with her head on my chest, and stared at the sun fighting through the tree canopy to reach the forest floor and bring life to young saplings stretching upward for their father's attention. I could feel the woman's hair tickling my nose and could not help to laugh and smile.

I looked again at the sun and left her there... with myself, Goibban the Smith!