Oein awaited the Witch on the grounds where his slaughtered army lay.
She promised him their return in exchange for his daughters.
The Witch appeared from the shadows, her face the color of the moon.
She took the girls’ hands, leading them towards the darkened woods; her purpose for his children, Oein did not know. Eir, his youngest, looked back- her cheeks flushed with worry.
An owl cried, and his risen brothers stood amongst the fog. Their eyes were milky-white, with rotten jaws hung slack. The Witch’s voice caught the wind: “I return the bodies. I cannot retrieve the souls.”
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