by Jake Adler
With his sword drawn, he gingerly approached the opening in the ground and peered down. Inside, he could see nothing but blackness and he heard footsteps behind him to find Gizurr approach with a lit torch, “Throw it in the pit,” he commanded as stared once more into its dark depths.
It bounced upon the ground, briefly spitting out sparks of orange as it illuminated the pit, revealing the twisted body of a troll. The creature had fallen badly and had many of the sharp stakes puncture its body and legs. It blinked up at him in pain, causing his anger to lessen as it was clearly in immense pain, “Answer my questions and I will help to get you out of there,” he said in a neutral tone.
“What do you want to know?” it gasped in short breaths.
“Why are the Northern supporting the Demons?”
The troll coughed, “They are our saviours.”
Axcil frowned in confusion, “From what?”
“You.”
Lady Cillina knelt down at the edge of the pit, “Why do you believe such a thing?”
The troll winced as it attempted to shift its body, only to find that it was pinned against the bloodied ground, “Without their help we can never fully close the tear inside ‘the veil’. If an attempt is made to close the ‘second seal’ on Earth before the aberration of the portal inside the Thirteenth Tier is sanctified, then it will cause an apocalypse. My people tried to warn the High Dragon of this danger, but he would not listen. The Demons are at war with themselves inside their own world and there are some inside that world that seek peace and want to help us.”
Lady Cillina glanced at Axcil, “If what he says is true, then this Ethan Palladino is about to destroy everything.”
The troll had been asked the question by surprise. Axcil realised that it was in too much pain and did not have the time to fabricate such a fantastic story. Fear gripped him as he knew that the creature believed that what it was telling them was the truth. They were, rightly or wrongly, acting to help protect the kingdom of Nemedia by slowing down the allied forces and preventing a premature closure of the tear inside ‘the veil’ on Earth. They had tried to warn the High Dragon but he had rejected their concerns and refused them an audience at the Grand Council. To receive such a response by a senior leader of the Tuatha Dé Danann would have been taken as a gross insult. Furthermore, his failure to respond to their concerns would have forced their hand. In an attempt to save the kingdom from its ultimate destruction, they declared war on the Tuatha Dé Danann and on their allies in the Southlands.
“What lies inside Cave Mirin?” asked Lady Cillina.
The eyes of the troll flickered open as its lifeblood continued to spill. It knew now that it was dying, “Bury me with honour and I will answer your final question,” it whispered in a voice that was faint.
Lady Cillina nodded as tears filled her eyes. The troll sighed in resignation of its fate, “The witch promised to force the High Dragon to see the error of his ways. She was to show him the source of the magic that feeds the entire kingdom before punishing his arrogance and stupidity by putting him to death.”
“Thank you,” Lady Cillina said as a single tear fell into the pit, splashing upon the cheek of the troll as its eyes closed for the final time.
True to their word, they lifted the troll out of the pit and buried him according to the customs of his people. A large rock, left blank as they had never learned his name, lay atop the mound of stones of his cairn. They then turned to their own fallen comrades, burning the bodies of the three Dwarves and two young human males upon a make-shift pyre, before spreading their ashes to the four winds.
The troll’s revelation had changed everything. The war with the Northern Clans could be put to an end, but only if they could prove that the High Dragon had been at the root of its cause. To achieve this, they had to find a way to persuade the witch to release him from the spell that had imprisoned him. Then, and only by his own confession at the Grand Council, could the claim made by the troll be verified.
The Grand Council would then immediately issue a formal apology to the Northern Clans and an order would be given to locate Ethan Palladino and Princess Talina and prevent them from closing the ‘second seal’ prematurely. The problem remained in how to gain the compliance of a willing Demon to help them sanctify the portal that existed inside the Thirteenth Tier, but if what the troll had told them was true, the Northern Clans already knew of someone who would help them.
CHAPTER NINE
The dark waters swirled around him as Ethan struggled to reach the surface. He felt his body being dragged down, deeper and deeper as his lungs began to burn. He exhaled the last of his air and knew that he was only moments away from dying when something happened. It was as if a barrier had broken deep inside him then he heard a strange voice speak the words ‘Spiritus Aqua’. Some part of him knew that it was Alexon. In a desperate bid to save him, his spirit ring had formed an unbreakable bond with his body. It was then that his lungs failed him and he inhaled sharply, sucking in the cold water to find that he could now breathe.
He blinked in surprise as his fear dissipated. As he stared into blackness that surrounded him and breathed in deeply, his feelings of shock were replaced by anger. He had come to Mahon Falls with Talina to ask for the help of the Fairies. Instead, they had responded by trying to drown him.
‘It is me that they despise Ethan, not you,” said Alexon in a deeply timbered voice as he sensed Ethan’s anger. Ethan felt momentarily felt unnerved by Alexon, who no longer communicated to him by the use of images, emotions, and visualised words, but now spoke to him as if he was physically present, “I was the one who prevented the Fairies from joining their brethren in the kingdom of Nemedia. They have never forgotten nor forgiven me.”
A distant glow of white light appeared above him and Ethan realised that there was no time to discuss the matter further as he immediately swam towards it. As he broke the surface, he tentatively scanned his surrounding and found that he appeared to be inside a magical glen. The Mahon Falls had disappeared and Talina was nowhere to be seen.
Oaks, beech and maple trees stretched up towards a violet sky as Ethan stared with a sense of wonderment. The ground was carpeted in a blaze of colour, with flowers and plants of many different shapes and sizes as he breathed in its sweet scent. He saw no sign of the Fairies, so he made his way towards the shore and clambered up its embankment.
His transition from breathing water to air had been painless and he smiled momentarily before remembering the sensation of a barrier that been broken between him and Alexon. He recalled his conversation with Cara many weeks ago about the differences between Enacters and Channelers and he held a growing suspicion that he had somehow evolved into a Channeler. He had realised from the beginning that he had been granted access to the knowledge and powers of Alexon, but he thought that he would be in control of them and was becoming increasingly aware of how the relationship between them was beginning to change.
As his gaze swept across the glen, a fallow deer briefly popped its head above a rainbow of flowers before turning and bounding away into the depths of the forest. Bees and butterflies flew sedately by, clearly unaffected at his presence as a gentle breeze caressed his face. He stood silently for a moment, captivated by the beauty of the place and he was filled with a deep sense of calm.
Time passed as Ethan stood amongst the flowers, “Now what?” he asked quietly.
“They are listening, talk to them,” Alexon replied calmly.
Ethan frowned, unsure of whether or not to state his anger at being almost drowned. Then he recalled the images he had seen when he knelt by the pool, of the Fairies fleeing in terror as their homes were being destroyed by the humans. He thought also of what Alexon had done to them. For reasons unknown to him, Alexon had forced upon them a terrible fate.
He sighed as he stared at the breath-taking beauty of the glen and then spoke, “I do not know why Alexon forced you to remain on Earth, but what I do know is that Earth and Nemedia need you
r help. I need to locate the great treasure of the Tuatha Dé Danann on Earth that will enable Talina and I to enact the ‘second seal’. Without it, all life will end.”
A silence descended upon the glen. Even the bees and butterflies settled upon the flowers as the clouds slowed in their journey across the violet sky. It was as if everything had paused to reflect upon his words.
Suddenly a Fairy flew from behind a tall oak tree. As with others of his kind, he was no taller than the span of a man’s hand. His face held an androgynous beauty, with eyes and hair that matched the colour of the summer skies. His wings flapped at such great speed that they almost looked as if they were standing still as he approached Ethan and came to rest upon a bright yellow flower.
The Fairy stared at Ethan with an expression of curiosity, “Do you speak of the apocalypse?”
Ethan nodded and remained silent.
The Fairy chewed his lip then nodded towards the undergrowth. Ethan was soon joined by thousands of Fairies as they flew out from behind every kind of flora and fauna. They came from both above and below him, from the highest branches in the forest skies to the blooms that covered the ground. Now that they considered it safe to reveal themselves, they openly settled upon the many flowers and low-lying branches that surrounded him. Ethan marvelled at their diversity of colours, noting though that blue, pink and yellow were the most dominant of colours that he saw amongst their race.
“My name is Arthfael,” continued the Fairy, “I must apologise for what happened but we had already sensed the presence of Alexon, and when you mentioned his name, well, we thought that he was in fact, you.”
Ethan shook his head, “He is my spirit ring.”
The eyes of the Arthfael widened, “May I see it?”
Ethan held forth his right hand as his spirit ring sparkled in the light. Arthfael flew towards it and touched it briefly before settling back upon his flower once more, “Perhaps what has happened to him is a fitting fate,” he saw Ethan frown, “he may be able to choose to return to the Creator at any time, perhaps not, but his options are now limited, as are those of my people.”
“What do you mean?”
Arthfael sighed as his gaze lowered, “We have been forced to live inside this magical sanctuary for over two thousand years to protect ourselves against the humans. Alexon did the bidding of the Seer when she commanded that some of my people must remain on Earth to protect two of the great treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann. It has been a curse on my people and we have sworn vengeance upon Alexon and the Seer for our imprisonment.”
“I think that you should at least apologise to them,” Ethan demanded angrily at he glared at his spirit ring.
“No,” replied Alexon calmly, “I did what I was asked to do to protect all creation and I will not apologise for that.”
“He said-.” Ethan began.
“I heard him,” interjected Arthfael, “so he is powerful enough now that he is self-aware and can speak with his own voice?” the Fairy looked concerned, “be careful young human, or one day you may find that he has control over you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Alexon yelled, “I have no intention of doing such a thing. I am, and always have, done nothing but serve for the protection of Nemedia.”
“And you will do anything that you consider necessary won’t you, no matter how wicked? Arthfael snapped.
Ethan blinked as his mind raced. He had never sensed anything malevolent from Alexon, but it was clear that had done something terrible. It was also the first time that he had learned that Alexon had a direct connection to the Seer. He recalled that Master Bedwyr always carried her book and he would often catch sight of him seemingly communicating with it. He wondered for the first time, if he had truly been offered a choice of spirit rings by Master Bedwyr.
“What happens now?” Ethan asked Arthfael.
For a moment he wondered if the Fairy had heard him as he saw him staring up at the violet sky, “We shall help you,” Arthfael responded as he gaze fell towards him after a long pause, “but in return, I must have your promise that my people will be granted the ability to travel to and from Nemedia whenever we wish.”
“I have a scroll and I can show you the words of magic to get there,” he felt Alexon shift inside him in anger, “Alexon will tell you how to return to your magical sanctuary here.”
“Good,” Arthfael nodded, “we are quite attached to our home now, despite being abandoned here with nothing in the beginning. However, as we are about to accomplish the task that had been forced upon us, at the very least we should now be free to visit our brethren in Nemedia whenever we want.”
Arthfael rose off from his flower and beckoned Ethan to follow him, “Your friend is waiting for you where you last saw her,” he turned briefly towards Ethan as his wings hummed gently, “we have already told her that you are safe and shall return shortly.”
Ethan nodded as they travelled through the glen. The air was once again full of birdsong and butterflies and bees busily rested momentarily upon various flowers as they secured some of their precious golden nectar, before setting off again to explore new scents and colours. Ethan’s gaze was then drawn to the skies above. He had expected to to see the deep azure blue that he had often seen in Nemedia that signalled the colour of magic, but found it to be a light violet, “Why is the sky this colour?”
Arthfael continued to flap his tiny wings, “Magic on Earth tends to be this colour, I’m not sure why.”
After a short amount of time they reached what Ethan assumed to be their city. Thousands of tiny white mushroom shaped dwellings lay nestled in perfect harmony amongst the branches of a huge oak tree. Although he was not entirely sure, it seemed as though they had been grown in place, rather than built and each house had a series of holes cut inside it, with a latticework of dried grasses that served as shutters and doors.
They moved past the oak tree towards a small hillock, where Arthfael gently flew to the ground. He mumbled some words in a language that Ethan had not heard before then stood expectantly as if waiting for something.
Slowly, a small opening appeared at the base of the hillock, barely large enough for Arthfael to fit inside, “Wait here a moment,” he said as he went inside.
Ethan sighed and carefully looked around him, so as to not to accidentally step upon a Fairy then sat upon the ground amongst a plethora of blooms. He resisted the urge to pick one of the sweet-smelling flowers, mindful of the need to respect the sanctuary of the Fairies. It was clear to him since his arrival, that the Fairies held a deep love and affection for nature. To them, life, in all its forms was sacred.
After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, Ethan felt himself drifting towards sleep when Arthfael suddenly reappeared. The Fairy seemed to be holding something in its hands, “This is what you seek,” he said as he sombrely held forth the miniscule item, “the Spear of Lug, no one who wields it can ever be defeated in battle.”
“But it’s tiny!” Ethan said in consternation as he squinted at the spindly stick.
“How else do you think that my people could keep it safe?” Arthfael replied as his eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Well, no offense,” Ethan whispered, “but I wouldn’t dream of going into battle wielding that cocktail stick and bet on coming out of it either victorious or alive.”
Arthfael sighed and looked at Ethan as if he was a simpleton, “It may be small now,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean that it will stay small. It changes according the size of its user and will change only when it is needed.”
“Oh I see,” Ethan replied as he felt his cheeks blush.
Ethan carefully took hold of the spear and placed it inside the left front pocket of his jeans. It felt surprisingly heavy, given its small size and he realised that it was because it was not what it seemed to be, “So what do I do with it and where should the ‘second seal’ be enacted?”
Arthfael shrugged his shoulders, “We were just forced to keep Lug’s Spear safe,” he che
wed his lip, “oh and we were asked to instruct its user to say, ‘Ibar’ when they launched the weapon it so it would always hit its target and ‘Athibar’ to get it to return to them on command.”
“Like a boomerang?”
Arthfael frowned at him in confusion.
“Never mind,” Ethan shook his head.
The Fairies had completed their task and in return, he showed them the words of power on the scroll that Master Bedwyr had given him, so that they could travel to Nemedia. Alexon begrudgingly taught the Fairies an incantation that would enable them to return to their magical sanctuary. Ethan realised that Alexon had already lost his battle to keep the Fairies entrapped, as once inside Nemedia, they could swiftly find a way from their brethren of returning to their sanctuary by themselves.
Ethan’s arrival back at Mahon Falls was surprisingly swift. Arthfael led him to a swirling portal close to the city that returned him dry land, close to a jagged outcrop of grey rock next to the Falls. It was with a great sense of both relief and excitement that Ethan met with an incredulous princess as he told her of all of what had befallen him.
CHAPTER TEN
Deadwood and fallen vines littered the ground as the companions scrambled through the tangled forest. They had left the Eastern shoreline behind many hours ago as the Grand Mage guided them along secret pathways known only by the most senior members of the College of Mages. The sky had now turned almost black, although slivers of moonlight managed to briefly peek out from behind the blanket of thick, swirling clouds above to illuminate a break in the treeline ahead.
“This way,” the Grand Mage pointed towards a barely discernible pathway, “be careful, the ground is treacherous and the drop very steep.”
The group moved forward cautiously as the pathway dipped down sharply towards a darkened valley. The soldiers of Manannán made light work of the narrow path, their night vision equipping them with all that they needed to ensure a safe footing. However, it was a different matter with the mages and many a time, a swift arm or helping hand from the soldiers was all that stood between many of the humans from tumbling over the edge to their deaths upon the rocky ground far below.
