The year is 1846. It is neither the beginning, nor the end. Or perhaps, it was the beginning of the end, as it later came to be. The crop has failed again, and death has come to Saol. Aoife is still a child by almost all accounts. A child with only a father, and neither friends nor relatives to call her own. The few there are shun her for a reason unknown to her. She should be unremarkable, but somehow, to the otherwordly beings watching her, she is anything but. History meets the myth in this tale of tears and hope, where bonds of friendship and love are forged against the odds.