by Jana LaPelle
She begins to struggle weakly, before uttering, “You can’t do this. I’m a goddess, I’m a queen.”
Luc just looks at her coldly and announces, “No Morríganna, not anymore. You are now one of the Fallen.” No sooner have the words left his mouth than a hideous transformation begins to take place, her once beautiful form twists and contorts to reveal the demon within.
She begins shrieking and crying out as she holds her once flawless alabaster hands in front of her in disbelief, and demands, “What have you done to me?”
Luc’s reply is quick, “That’s just it, I’ve not done anything to you. This is all your doing, and I’m growing bored with this conversation. Bind her. Now.” Much to Morríganna’s dismay they bind her with…
“Where did you? Those binding shackles…” I trail off.
“Let’s just say they come in handy in keeping my brethren in line.” Luc smirks, “I’m the only one in The Underworld that knows the secret of these bindings.”
“You always had the ability to remove them from Alaric.” I accuse.
“And now you know that you, too, have the ability to remove the shackles that bind the gods. Fitting that it would be you, little Keeper that would hold the key. You had to figure it out on your own. I could not interfere.”
“You mean you would not interfere.” Sighing, I know that the fighting must stop, I shake my head and look around us at the gruesome scene before us. Stepping forward, I gesture about, sending a pulse of energy out to gain everyone’s attention, and say to all those that stand below us, “Hear me!!! We are all brethren here today! All of us! The phantom queen has fallen and her wicked ways with her! Already those under her spell are gaining clarity. We must unite to fix all that she has wrought. The veil between the realms must be our priority! Not this fight! Not this battle! We must preserve our way of life! What say you?!” I demand for all to hear. “The Mortal Realm is innocent in all of this! As is The Underworld! We must fix what she has wrought! We must unite! WHAT SAY YOU?!” I demand, and all is quiet as The Morrígan’s followers begin to understand. They begin to step back wearily, not sure what to do or who to follow, their confusion is clear.
I stare out over the downtrodden fields that should be strewn with beautiful flowers but see nothing but the carnage of our battle here today. Blood stands in pools with unmoving bodies strewn about. The day has become dark and ominous and thunder clouds are rolling above us. The dragons and drakes now hover above, along with the war angels of The Overworld, and the imps of The Underworld as the wind picks up, taking the loose strands of my hair away from my face to whip about wildly. It’s at that moment that I feel the power of three thrumming within me, and it is hypnotic in its enticement. I understand now how it could seduce someone to want more power, but it is deceiving in its promise. We must do what must be done in order to end this connection as soon as possible.
All those below move to take a knee, except for a select few that remain steadfastly in Morríganna’s court. I look to what’s left of my guardians and say, “Take them in custody, they are not to blame for what took place here today. We will sort them out soon enough and they will see reason, if not, they will be locked away. We have work to do and not a lot of time to do it.” I’m joined by all those gods and goddesses of the realm that stand with us. Alaric takes my hand, his flaming sword in the other, Lainn by his side. I can’t help but notice that Daerok and his followers have disappeared and are no longer visible on the knoll, as well as Tarron’s father and his followers. They have all retreated to live another day.
Looking over to Jasmine, Lexie and Neamhain, that’s going to take some getting used too, I ask, “How do we fix this?”
Neamhain smiles a sad smile before replying, “Cú Chulainn must die. He was brought back by an unnatural means. We must right,” She pauses, looking remorseful before continuing, “what was wronged on that day.”
“Surely not, he proved himself today. He chose to end Morríganna rather than follow her unconditionally.”
Neamhain’s eyes sparkle, when she replies, “You, Little Keeper, should know better than most that there is life after this one.”
Nodding, I agree, “Yes, I know you are right, but he has been a pawn in all of this. It’s not right for us to stand here and make decisions about what his future holds. That would make us no better than Morríganna.” Turning to the demigod, I ask, “Cú Chulainn, what do you think? What do you want?”
“I need to know… will this death take me to my kindred? Do I need to do more to make sure that we end up together?”
I nod, and say with a soft smile, “Yes, Cú Chulainn, you chose well, you are ready to ascend to The Overworld, where your kindred is waiting for you.”
“Then I’m ready to die, one last time.”
“Thank you, I wish that you could have more time here, but I fear that is something we are in short supply of ,” I say earnestly before turning back to Neamhain and Lexie, I ask, “Besides Lainn having to die, what else must we do?”
“We must travel back to where it all began, we need to go back to his crypt, but we will need all the majic wielders that we can gather, and still I fear that we will need more. The realms have been open to one another for far too long now. Those that dwell in The Underworld and The Overworld must travel back to their realms before we can even begin.”
From the crowd I hear, “Mister, I want to stay here with you.” Pip’s wings beat effortlessly as he gently lands next to us, his mother and uncle behind him. He looks to his mother and says, “I have so much to learn from this realm, I want to stay.” His piercing blue eyes plead.
Paynga’s expression is pained and silver tears appear in her eyes and she asks, “Pipperton, if you stay, I’m not sure if we will ever see each other again.” Her tears course down her cheeks freely, and they remind me of silver mercury, staining her face. A stark contrast to her alabaster skin and crystal blue eyes.
“I know Momma, but have you seen it here? It’s so different, it’s so…” he pauses, before continuing, “I love you Momma, I will find a way back to you and The Underworld, I promise.”
Neamhain interrupts, “I don’t think that will be a problem, he will be able to make his way back. The Overworld and The Underworld are our first priorities. If we can contain the rift, we will more than likely need the services of the Drakon Dragons, they were once the Guardians of The Realms before The Underworld and The Overworld were permanently sealed to the other realms. I fear that we are once again in need of their services. We will not be able to permanently close the realms to one another. The best that we can do is seal the rift and where the veil is thinnest between the realms station our guardians to prevent those who seek to cross over without permission to access the other realms. It’s the best that we can hope for.” She concludes.
I smile, “Which means if Pip wants to go home, he can, with the permission of the guardians.” Then my smile falters and I look toward Dray, “Are you and your brethren up to the task?”
“Aye, we are very much looking forward to being of use again. Most of us have just recently woken from a very long hibernation. It will be good to have a purpose once more and to resume our post as Guardians of The Realms.”
“Then we need to get busy and get this done!” As soon as the words are out of my mouth another shimmering mirage appears between our realm and The Mortal Realm. This time I can see that the mortals are preparing to dispatch their armies to overtake us. They see our ways of war barbaric, and in their misguided shortsightedness, they are underestimating what we will do to them if they invade us. They are amassing tanks and aircraft to dispatch through the veil. That can’t happen! They seek to destroy Faerie, The Otherworld as we know it. Turning to Alaric, I announce for everyone to hear, “We need to do this now!”
Chapter 40
(Ashlinn)
I’ve never been so tired in all my life. The last year and a half are crashing down on me all at once, and I’m beginning to feel the weight of
what has just transpired and all that I have learned. Jasmine sidles up next to me and pulls me into a tight embrace as Lexie and Neamhain begin to organize everyone. I practically fall into her arms and whisper, “I’m so tired, Jaz. I just want this to all be done.”
“I know, Ash. You’re almost there. Then you can rest. We all can.” She holds me close and I clasp her tightly to me, needing her reassurance.
“Thank you for being my friend, my amazing super ninja Tinkerbell.” I smile into her neck as I hold her close.
Her tinkling laughter rings out around me and she says, “By the goddess, I love you too, Ash. Come on, we have work to do yet, before we can rest.”
Pulling back, I nod, “You’re right, we must seal the rift and then we must work on the accords, not just within this realm but The Mortal Realm as well. Let’s do this. I want to get out of this armor and get home to my children. I want to put what happened here today behind me.” Brave words for someone who just realized how very broken hearted I am at all that was disclosed this day and all that transpired on these once beautiful fields.
Alaric is by my side in an instant, he pulls me close and I struggle to keep my tears at bay. I pull away and say, “We have work to do. Only once that is done can we mourn and begin to heal.”
“Then, let’s do this. Your despair is almost more than I can bear, mo grá.”
“I’m sorry, Alaric, I’ll try to mute -”
“Don’t you even dare. Never again, we will always be open to one another. Always. Promise.”
I smile through my tears, “Always, Elf-Man.”
I have a few moments to take stock of all that remain here on these tattered fields. I look again for several factions and they are nowhere to be seen. Daerok and his followers have disappeared as well as Tarron’s father and his troops. Damn, we really should have paid more attention to both of them. My gaze drifts to the west and I see a curious sight. Four horsemen sit astride different color horses, a white horse, a red horse, a black horse, and a pale horse. The riders are cloaked in shadows. They are backlit by the setting sun, but they appear to be assessing everything before them before they turn to walk away from the battle that we fought here today. Who are they? Their appearance here today cannot be some random act. If I have learned anything since my awakening, it’s that nothing is random, and everything has a meaning.
Unfortunately, I don’t have time to contemplate their appearance as we have organized a huge following to trace to the Isle of Tears in the Sea of Hope. We must fix the rift, as best we can and so we will. Turning to Alaric and the rest of my Guardians, I say, “We’ve got this. I want you to take Tolin’s body back to Glenndale Loch for a proper farewell. Please, do this for us so that we can focus on fixing the rift between The Realms. Hopefully, we will be there shortly.” As the words leave my mouth, I choke back sobs as the loss I feel for Tolin ricochets through me. I step forward to Torin and reach for his hand and whisper, “I’m so sorry, Torin.” He pulls me into an almost unbearably tight hug before releasing me. Stepping back, he nods and walks back to where Tolin’s body lies. He morphs into his berserker form and hefts his brother into his arms before winking out of sight.
Everyone else nods sadly and moves to do my bidding, all except Alaric who comes to pull me into a fierce hug, and for one moment I melt into his embrace, before pulling back, “We need to do this. I’m okay, for now.”
“I know you are. Let’s finish this.” Alaric kisses my forehead and we trace to the Isle of Tears to fix what Morríganna wrecked.
Just like before, the island looks tranquil, but flashes of red lights are pulsating from below. I can tell that the rift has grown exponentially and is about to break through the confines of the underground crypt. It’s time to work our majic on this place. We need to put things right. Looking around I see that there are plenty of majic wielders, we have witches, Druids, and those that appear to be wizards or mages, gods and goddesses of Faerie, and a multitude of light and dark fae. All here for the same reason. To fix the rift.
Turning to Luc, Alaric says, “This is where we must part ways, my friend. You and your Underworlders must return to The Underworld before we can continue. Thank you for coming to our aid this day. Your deeds here this day will not go unnoticed.”
Luc smirks, “Why, Alaric… I’m flattered that you think of me as a friend.”
Alaric shakes his head, its barely perceptible, before saying, “Don’t…”
Luc throws his blond capped head back and laughs a hearty laugh, “Honestly, I do like you, Alaric. We will meet again. I expect an invitation to the meeting of The Realms. The accords should be rather interesting. Don’t be a stranger.”
Alaric, grasps Luc’s outstretched hand and leans in, “Take care, Luc. Know this, I will take the utmost care of Pipperton.”
“I know you will.” Luc turns away and rallies his remaining Underworlders and they make their way to the rift. He ushers his demons and drakes through the pulsating red glow before turning back and smirking. He shifts to his demon form, making the last image of the prince of Hell a rather intimidating one. What with the pulsating crimson glow behind him and his impressive horns, not to mention his talon clawed hands, and his reptilian-like wings spread wide for everyone to see, turning he snaps his wings shut and falls backward into the abyss, disappearing from view.
Almost at the same moment, another shimmering rift opens to our left, and at the very same instance a vivacious red head walks through the opening from The Mortal Realm. She looks oddly familiar and I look to Lexie. Her hair is streaked with grey, but otherwise her auburn tresses are a riotous curly mess, and she is smiling from ear to ear. Then it clicks. She looks like what I would imagine Lexie looking like in her fifties. Even with the tiny lines on her face she appears youthful and full of personality.
She looks around, assessing before smiling at both Lexie and me, “I’ve been waiting for this, for almost my entire life. Come on girls, surely you know who I am by now. Let’s fix this, and then we can catch up. I can’t wait to get to know you both and learn more about my ancestors home realm.”
Looking to Lexie, we both just nod as we realize who we are staring at. It’s her great, aunt Nessa. She smiles broadly and we both just nod, words failing us before Lexie says, “You’re powerful. How is that? I thought that your line had no majic.”
“That’s a long story, I think we have some work to do before we can catch up. Let’s get to it then. If I’m right, there is a sacrifice that must be made.”
Neamhain is quick to answer, “Yes, everyone, gather around the entrance to the crypt. Lainn, I suggest you say your goodbyes. This must be done quickly. Everyone, take your positions.”
Cú Chulainn joins his father and the two men stand together, quietly talking to one another before embracing. Lugh holds his son close in a tight bearhug. I can hear him say into Lainn’s ear, “I’m so very proud of you. You did well, my son. I’m going to miss you. I have missed you so very much. I just wish we had more time together.”
Pulling back Cú Chulainn says, “Then come with me, we can catch up.” He looks so uncertain, almost boyish.
Lugh takes his son’s face in his hands and says, “All in due time. I will be with you soon enough. My place is here for now, but the time of the many gods and goddesses in this realm is drawing nigh. Many of us have become obsolete. I will embrace what is left of the time I have here and welcome my ascension to The Overworld when my time comes. We will meet again, my son. I love you. God’s speed.”
Cú Chulainn pulls away and looks down at the weapon in his hand and holds it out to his father. Taking a deep breath, he says, “Before I go, this is yours. It has always been yours. What will you do with it now?”
Lugh grasps the spear in his hands and the spear flares to life and for a moment he appears to be younger than his days, as if we are seeing him in his prime. He smiles, and imparts, “It will need to be hidden away once more before I can follow you home.”
Cú Chul
ainn nods and whispers, “I’m ready. I think.”
Stepping forward, I say, “Alaric and I will escort him personally, Lugh. Cú Chulainn’s soul will be well cared for.”
Lugh smiles at me sadly, “Thank you, Ashlinn.” Turning back to Cú Chulainn, he asks, “Are you ready?”
“Yes, father,” he nods and hesitantly walks toward the gaping hole in the ground.
The red pulsating light appears to be growing and swallowing up more of the chamber below. Neamhain signals that they are ready. Everyone has circled around the crypt opening and all have begun to chant in an old forgotten language of Faerie and the majical folk of this land. Cú Chulainn stands before us as their majic builds. Lexie’s eyes have become the opaque milky white that still freaks me out and I can sense that they are almost ready for the sacrifice, I walk over to Lainn and smile, “I’ll be with you the whole time until your soul has transitioned to The Overworld.”
“I know, Keeper of Souls. Forgive me for not heeding your words sooner, for I could not understand.”
“Shhh, it’s okay.” I can’t help but wonder who is going to take his life.
Before I can ponder on the problem at hand for too long, Alaric thrusts his flaming sword into Lainn’s torso, using the heavenly weapon to do the deed. He catches his form as he crumples to the ground. A look of peace comes over his face and in a few short moments his heart stutters to a stop once more. Lainn’s soul emerges from his limp form and the chanting begins to crescendo and the air is alight with majical energy. As his soul rises, so does his physical form. It drifts over the open chasm and begins to gently descend into the red depths below, back to the crypt that his body once occupied. All the while his soul soars higher.
