Ansel Feirmeoir’s Escape from the Wild Hunt
Long ago, according to Áes Camáir folklore, Ansel Feirmeoir was a young farmer who was about as average and ordinary as one could be. One day, he saw something fluttering in a briar bush. Taking it for a small bird, he went to rescue it, only to discover that it was a tiny pixie. She kissed him on the forehead before disappearing, leaving behind a slight glow that soon faded.
Thereafter, Ansel was gifted with extraordinary luck. At night, he could always pick out the correct path home even when the clouds blocked the moonlight. When dicing with his friends or playing cards, he always chanced to win just enough to come out ahead, but not so much that his friends wouldn’t play against him anymore, especially when he bought rounds of ale with his winnings. When a potato blight struck one year, he happened to have switched to growing turnips and carrots that season. When all the lads started to woo the miller’s daughter, it was Ansel she chose to be her husband. And when she gave birth to three healthy children over the next decade, the midwives all said they had never aided with such easy childbirths.
Many years later, when Ansel was now a grandfather, he was visiting an ailing friend two towns over. He lingered with his friend, and it was therefore much later than he planned when he finally set off for home. Though there was no moon out that night, he could still make out the path easy enough. Then suddenly he heard a terrible howling in the distance. Across a meadow, he saw a man with an antlered helm riding a black warhorse. The man was surrounded by black mastiffs that belched fire, and they had picked up his scent. It was the the Wild Hunt, and they meant to take him with them.
Terrified, Ansel meant to flee, but his legs were as if turned to pudding. The Hunt was so close he could smell their sulfuric breath when suddenly a glowing light appeared. It was the fairy again, the same one he had rescued so many years earlier when he was just a young man. The fairy kissed him on the forehead in the same spot when she had kissed him when he had rescued her. He blinked and found himself safe on his own doorstep, far from the danger of the Wild Hunt.
Thereafter, his uncommonly good luck disappeared. He was now no more likely to win at dice or cards than anyone else. When the occasional blights came, his farm was affected with everyone else’s. And at night, he had as much trouble as anyone in finding the path home. But though his special luck was gone, it had served him when he needed it most, protecting Ansel from the Wild Hunt.