This post offers an alternate view on the death of the god Miach, as interpreted from the lore. It picks up after part one which you can read here.

365 Days of Discovery – Conclusion

Morrigu: “Some Gods have existed here since the beginning, such as Lir and me, to name a few. Others have come into being at a later time and while we, as Gods, can speak their lineage, we know that there was a time when they were not here but existed only as potential as “that which will come to be”. In this preliminary stage, we cannot speak of them and at that time before they walked with us here, we could not speak of them because they were not here yet.”

Morrigu: “So, there then comes a time when they are no longer here yet we have the added advantage of being able to speak about them, of remembering them, and of celebrating not only what they were, but looking forward in anticipation to what they will be. When a God leaves this mortal plane, they do not vanish into nothingness and vapour, but instead reform, renew, and redirect all that which was into something new, something unexpected, and something rarified. I suggest that this is the case with Miach as well. This one is not dark and cold; this one is not scattered and disembodied; this one is in fact on his way to something more. This much I can tell you and it applies to more than just your brother: when a God leaves this material plane, they may yet manifest again on this plane as themselves, as something new, or as a combination of the two. The energy that permeates the Gods is multiversal in its nature and is capable of many things. See yourself, my child, not as one entity in one place, but one entity in many places, extending in many directions, with the ability to not only see through your own eyes, but to see and experience yourself in a detached yet vibrant manner. This cairn is not the end, no, never. It is a place of rebirth and everlasting. Who knows what wonders await us next from Miach? Wait and see, child.”

The wings retract and the raven takes to the air and heads west, over the great ocean

Airmid: “Let me look deep into this place, deep into myself, deep into the words that the Mother has given to me. I cannot see past this moment, but if she promises me transformation, then I will look to that moment, that day, that time when such an event will come to pass.”

The sun breaks over the horizons until the rays of the sun reach Miach’s cairn

Airmid: “What magic is this? What can this possibly be? What is happening to Miach’s body? As the sun’s rays reach across the land to caress this sacred cairn, filaments of herbs and grasses are growing up through my cloak. Small heads peek through the material and as the sun rises, they push forward more and more and raise themselves up to the very sun that has given them life. Dare I look under my cloak that covers my brother’s body? Dare I look to see what can be possibly happening? Do I? Something altogether unusual must be occurring for herbs and grasses grow quickly but surely, they cannot grow so quickly through earth, through a body, and through a cloak, all in the matter of a few short hours. For I just lay his body to rest here yesterday and today this is happening.”

Airmid: “What was it that Miach said? ‘Because I have greater things to bring into being and I also will continue my work, whether I am on this plane of existence or not’, well this assuredly must be so! I cannot bear to look under the cloak, but I know, in the core of my existence, that these plants are growing from Miach’s body himself! Are these the greater things of which he spoke? Is this continuing his work, from wherever that might be? What could this work be?”

Airmid: “As I look upon his body, I see that these plants are herbs, every one of them and that they are growing from various parts of his body and I wonder if this has some significance. These particular herbs are only growing from where his head would be and – mysteriously enough – I recognize some of them as being herbs that affect the head like feverfew, valerian, and lavender. How very odd! I must take a closer inventory once the herbs have stopped growing. I pray they grow to full maturity and perhaps maybe to seed.”

Airmid: “I marvel at this miracle of growth and of magic – for the plants keep sprouting, one after another, after another. Not just everywhere, but in very selected places. I will note all of these plants and each one of their locations because in this magical and sacred act, nothing is random, and nothing is left to happenstance. As the rays of the sun increase, the growth and density of these herbs continues to proliferate. With the passage of time and the ticking of seconds, I begin to see that more and more of the herbs begin to take the shape of this man, this brother, this God. I am enchanted by the diversity and great number of these herbs. A veritable herbarium has grown from where he once lay. No, this is no longer a funereal cairn; it is the living embodiment of this God, the next step in his evolution wherein he has gone from the direct instrument of healing to the very means to heal others and to heal oneself. He has surpassed us all, once again, and gone one step further in his healing journey.”

Airmid: “The sun no overhead, the growth seems to have attained it fullest magical height and it truly is a man-form made of herbs. But how many herbs are there? It is difficult to say. Let me take the time to examine them all and count them as well. There are one, two, and three…thirty…ninety…one-hundred eighty and more…two-hundred seventy…three-hundred sixty-five. By the mighty Gods! There is one herb for each day of the year, this is magic indeed! Oh, my brother, the miracles that came from your hands, O Great Surgeon and Leech, have now manifested themselves in ways we could never have guessed! Perhaps, just perhaps, your untimely end at the hands of a jealous father was not as inopportune as perhaps it was destiny. Oh, my goodness, such as bounty as the likes that healers have never seen. This great harvest – and the knowledge imparted thereof by the precise positioning of these herbs on the very spot where they will do the most good – will take time to catalogue and time to disseminate, like seeds. Three-hundred sixty-five days of discovery will be the cycle of learning for all healers. These new healers, armed with a body of knowledge like never before assembled will be like Gods in the miracles that they may present to their people, all made possible by the greatest healers and leech that the world has ever known, my dear brother, Miach.”

Airmid: “So, dear brother, let me be the one to gather your great harvest, as this has always been my calling as the Goddess of Herb craft. Let me gather them all and put the neatly in mounds where they grew to best recall what the benefit most. Then, for those that are new and have no name, I will give them a name, based upon their qualities and their locations. This will be one harvest that will go down in the annals of this green earth as one greater than them all. Let me spread my own cloak on the ground, next to you, dear brother, so that I may arrange them all.”

The cloak is now neatly arranged with three-hundred and sixty-five different herbs

Airmid: “Now that they are all separated and placed near where they benefit most, let me thank you once again, Miach, for this bounty of earth, magic, and healing. You always gave throughout your life on this plane and you continue to give as you always did. Let me not put down to memory all that is here and then I will tell all healers everywhere so that the knowledge will carry forward forever. Your name will be known on this plain forever!”

Diancecht: “What madness is this? What are these things here gathered and what is this density of herbs growing out of that cairn? How do these herbs grown in this form, in the form of a man, in the form of your brother who dare challenged ME, the greatest of all healers, first healer of the Gods and first healer of this people?”

Airmid: “Father, you were the cause of this great healer’s demise, yet he has surpassed you once again by bringing forth from his broken form a magic far greater than you could ever hope to present. Three-hundred sixty-five herbs, one for each day of the year, all the herbs needed to heal the creatures of this world from this day hence are now assembled and properly arranged on this, my cape. With this knowledge, healers of our rank and of this world alike will be able to cure any malady that arises. It is truly the greatest magic!”

Diancecht: “Never! I will never allow these seeds to be the seeds of my undoing. People and creatures need me, need Diancecht, the Greatest of Healers, not some common grasses that have been sprouted and sprung, gathered and organized by trickery or some lesser ways. They shall never surpass me!”

With this, Diancecht grabs Airmid’s cloak and scatters all the herbs to the arising winds

Diancecht: “Be gone!”