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Description: SCP-6078 is a small island located in the Atlantic Ocean, roughly 300 km off the west coast of Ireland. SCP-6078 has been depicted on maps of Europe dating as far back as the tenth century, where it has been identified variously by names such as Bracile and Hy-Brasil. Archeological evidence suggests that SCP-6078 was first colonized by Gaelic settlers at some point during the first millennium BCE, and is currently populated by approximately 40,000 non-anomalous humans.
SCP-6078, depicted on a seventeenth century map of Europe.
SCP-6078 generally occupies a self-contained pocket dimension, only surfacing in baseline reality at regular four-year intervals (hereafter referred to as a Manifestation Event). These consistently occur on the calendar date of February 29, and last a duration of twenty-four hours between 00:01 and 23:59 GMT.
From the perspective of its inhabitants, the dimensional barrier surrounding SCP-6078 appears as a thick, impenetrable mist. In this state, travel to and from the island is impossible through conventional means, with the area occupied by SCP-6078 instead replaced with open waters. Despite its extradimensional status, the island is nonetheless affected by local meteorological and seasonal patterns. Notably, during transitions to baseline reality, the skies directly above SCP-6078 will invariably appear clear and bright, regardless of weather conditions in the surrounding region.
The inhabitants of SCP-6078 speak a previously unknown Goidelic language1 (structurally similar to Old Irish), and the island has been politically unified under an absolute monarchy since at least the fourth century CE. Despite numerous attempts at Christianization between the sixth and tenth centuries, the inhabitants of SCP-6078 continue to practice a distinct variant of Celtic polytheism to the present day.
Due to its isolation, SCP-6078 has experienced little social or technological progression beyond a roughly Iron Age level of development. Since its discovery however, the Foundation and the Global Occult Coalition have been steadily introducing its inhabitants to modern medicine, and provided limited information regarding the state of the wider world to indigenous scholars.
Historical records suggest that SCP-6078's anomalous properties first manifested at some point in the late tenth century, following during a cataclysmic event known colloquially as the Day of the Ravens. The inhabitants of SCP-6078 celebrate the date of each manifestation event as Dyrmud's Day, a holiday named in honour of a semi- mythical king who features prominently in local balladry and folklore. This date is typically marked by the island's inhabitants with music, dancing and feasting.
Addendum-1: The following is an account of the life and reign of King Dyrmud, provided by the Foundation's Department of Mythology and Folkloristics. All details herein are derived from native SCP-6078 scholars, as well as local religious and historical texts.
Dyrmud the Ageless SCP-6078's royal coat of arms, depicting a black rose2 against a red backdrop.
The mythical King Dyrmud is identified as the final king of Brasil to reign prior to the Day of the Ravens. Sources consistently describe Dyrmud as a fair and just king, who was born on a leap day and as a result, aged only one year for every four that passed.
Dyrmud's epithet of the Ageless is two-fold, referring both to his supernatural longevity and the enduring nature of his legacy.
Dyrmud is recounted as having had seven wives throughout his reign, each of whom he wedded seven years apart. The first of these was Uma, an elderly sorceress who was deeply in love with the ever-young king, although knew that he would never accept a bride as old and grizzled as she. Uma concocted a magical potion that allowed her to appear young and beautiful in the eyes of others, thus winning Dyrmud's hand in marriage. However, on the occasion of their first anniversary, the couple were gifted with an enchanted mirror, which to Uma's horror reflected her true, decrepit appearance.
Infuriated by his wife's deceit, Dyrmud demanded an immediate separation, causing Uma to die from a broken heart. Before passing, Uma placed a curse upon her former husband, ensuring that none of his later marriages would outlast the one they had shared, and condemning all of his future brides to die within a year.
Dyrmud's second wife was the youthful and spirited Ida, who is remembered for her love of dance, riddles and all manner of merriment. Two months into her reign, Ida died from hysterical laughter brought on by the antics of her favourite courtroom jester. The mirthful maiden was buried with lips curled in an ever-beaming grin, while the jester, in his shame, retired to the life of a hermit. There next was Tiona, who loved her husband second only to her youngest brother, Devlin. As a child, Tiona had once fallen into a rushing river whilst playing, with none of her brothers save for Devlin being bold enough to swim to her rescue. When Devlin fell deathly ill from fever, Tiona discretely visited her bedridden brother, and as a final show of gratitude planted a single kiss upon his cheek.
While Devlin himself would make a miraculous recovery overnight, his sister was dead from the same wasting affliction by sunrise - thus, it was said of her that she left no debt unpaid.
Dyrmud's fourth wife was Arienn, renowned for possessing the sweetest voice in all the land. While singing by a lakeside, the queen's song was overheard by a hungry fox, which was certain that such an enthralling melody could not possibly pass mortal lips.
After catching glimpse of her fine white robes fluttering through the bushes, the fox thought itself in the presence of a swan, singing its fabled dying song. The ravenous creature tore deep into the queen's thigh, leaving her mortally wounded. Realizing its tragic mistake, the remorseful beast then drowned itself in the lake's waters. Arienn's successor was the poetic and curious Cianate, who held the shortest reign of Dyrmud's queens, their mayfly marriage lasting only a day. Cianate died while returning from the temple, falling from her horse after becoming distracted by the sight of a beautiful rainbow stretching over the distant hills.
Eithna, Dyrmud's sixth wife, had perhaps the most tragic demise of all. Five months into her reign, Eithna was abducted by the hunchback Grannan, who plotted to escape with her to Ireland and make her his bride. While preparing her captor's supper, Eithna spotted a poisonous black rose growing from the earthen floor, which she furtively plucked and placed in his broth. Upon completing his meal, the hunchback noticed a single stray petal in his dish, and knew he had been tricked. Before succumbing to the flower's toxin, Grannan strangled Eithna, leaving her unable to speak. Undaunted, the young queen seized the dead hunchback's cloak and spear before setting out for home.
That night, Dyrmud, who had sent his men forth in search of Eithna, heard a knock upon the door. He demanded this visitor identify themselves, although received no response.
Peering through a window, Dyrmud saw an armed stranger clad all in black, and cautiously drew his sword. With a fierce cry he struck the intruder, but upon removing their hood was met with the lifeless face of his lost beloved.
There was finally Caomha, who was the longest reigning of Drymud's queens, second only to Uma herself. Unable to bear children through natural means, Caomha sought the counsel of a witch, who offered her a solution in the form of a silver seed. Caomha was told to plant this seed on the night of the next full moon, provide it with three drops of milk, and eat but one petal from the flower that grew in its place. Caomha did as instructed, although found the first petal so delicious that despite the witch's advice, she decided to consume all twelve at once. By the following month Caomha had become pregnant, her belly growing so large as to leave her bedridden. She ultimately gave birth a total of twelve daughters, one for each petal she had eaten, before dying from exhaustion. Dyrmud did not wed again, and having endured the tragic loss of seven lovers, remained fiercely protective of his daughters, refusing to marry them to any of the island's myriad suitors.
Years later, King Dyrmud, who was by now well over a century old, although physically still a man in his twenties, went hunting alone in the woods. Upon returning he found his fortress empty, ransacked by a race of barbaric attackers, described as hailing from a mysterious northern land where the sun does not rise, the stars cannot shine, and the Moon is too frightened to show her face3. This date is remembered in local literature as the Day of the Ravens, as it is said that every crow in the land was perched atop the hill of Sliobráth4, silently heralding the carnage to come. With his daughters missing, his soldiers slain and his subjects hopelessly outnumbered, Dyrmud set out for the nearest temple to pray before the gods, imploring them for the strength to defeat the invaders.
After witnessing the king's plight, the gods bestowed a small spark of divine energy into his body. Immediately, Dyrmud underwent a transformation as glorious as it was hideous, growing five times in size and ten times in might, his mere touch capable of melting flesh from bone. After single-handedly slaughtering countless waves of inhuman warriors, Dyrmud spied the departing vessel carrying his twelve daughters, soon to be sold into slavery. He caused the ship to erupt with unquenchable flame, although not before turning each of the girls into swans, allowing them to fly to safety. While his domain was safe once more, the gods' gift had taken its toll on the young king's body, for the essence of the eternal was not meant to reside within the fragile mortal framework.
As the last of the ships retreated from Brasil's shore, the Ageless King was close to death, his flesh now so warped and contorted that even the swarming ravens refused to touch it. With what remained of his strength, Dyrmud threw his cloak into the air, which became a vast mist encircling the island, sealing it from the wider world and protecting it from all future peril. As Dyrmud lay dying, his dozen daughters, still in the form of swans, flocked to his aid. They held his body upright so that their father might die standing, and when breath at last left his lungs, carried him to his eternal rest. Every four years, the late king's daughters dutifully raise this mighty veil for a single day, allowing the light of the sun, moon and stars to shine upon his adoring subjects.
Addendum-2: In 1910, members of His Majesty's Foundation for the Secure Containment of the Paranormal (HMFSCP) conducted an archeological dig in SCP-6078's northern province. The remains of a large humanoid entity (since designated SCP-6078-1) were discovered in a small cave in the vicinity of the hill of Sliobráth.
SCP-6078-1 measured an estimated 4.5 meters in height, and exhibited severe burns and cancerous growths across much of the body. Although in excess of nine hundred years old, the corpse showed no signs of decomposition, and was described by researchers as being warm to the touch. Efforts to remove the body for further study were unsuccessful due to the spontaneous manifestation of roughly a dozen swans, which proceeded to attack all personnel present, causing one death and multiple injuries.
By order of the Overseers Council, no further attempts to excavate SCP-6078-1 are to take place.
Footnotes 1. A group of Celtic languages found in Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man.
2. A species of highly poisonous flower indigenous to SCP-6078.
3. Descriptions of these beings have been found to vary significantly across Brasilic texts. They are typically imagined as possessing unnaturally pale skin, with six digits of equal length on both hands, and inverted feet.
4. Tallest peak on SCP-6078.
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