I missed my mark and hurtled out of the ground with all the grace of a drunken ox tossed by a giant and landed in the middle of a pond. The suddenly overwhelming pressure of emotions that weren’t mine and were so loud in my mind I could almost hear the thoughts behind them, while at the same time feeling them as a physical weight that pressed against my mind, kept me from concentrating enough to save myself. I barely had enough time to draw in a gasp of air and then sank like a lead brick. My armor was intended to be durable and relatively lightweight for the protection it offered but it was still on the far side of eighty pounds and was never intended as swim wear. As I sank, I focused on my heart rate slowing it down to something around fifteen or twenty beats a minute. I fell back on an old exercise to control emotions regardless of if they were my own or foreign. I began by imagining a brick building, then focused on forcing each emotion into it one at a time until I couldn’t feel any of them. Then gradually let them leak back out identifying the ones that were mine and allowing them to stay and forcing the ones that felt like someone else’s back into the brick building of my imagination. While I held my breath and waited, I hoped that I hadn’t landed too far from wherever Khan ended up at, or that someone had spotted my inexplicable appearance and would come to investigate.
I’d fought off at least thirty creatures out of a nightmare while traveling to the far side of another universe and survived only to drown in a pond practically in my own backyard, and I hadn’t even gotten to the risky part yet. Of course, I wasn't sure if I was going to drown before I froze to death first. I felt someone grab my belt and opened my eyes and looked through the murky water to see a small boy tugging me out of the water. I did my best to try and swim keeping myself as buoyant as possible until he finally pulled me up on shore. I spit out a lung full of rancid pond water and focused on breathing in the clean air for a few minutes.
“Good to see you again Gramps. You know you should really take the armor off before swimming, wouldn't want something that good to rust.” I tried to wring the water out of my hair as best I could and looked at my rescuer. The boy looked to be about eleven or twelve with nearly white hair and pale blue eyes. His impish smile was the sort that would make any parent immediately peg him as a troublemaker, his slightly too long arms and legs that reminded me of my own ungainly awkwardness in puberty didn’t hide the toned nature of muscles that were the result of spending far too much time climbing and running. His white t-shirt and simple blue jeans were marred by grass and dirt stains and his sneakers were even more dirty and ragged adding to the impression of a troublesome teen more interested in playing outside and pulling pranks than listening to his parents or teachers.
“You know Jackual, one of these days you’re going to make fun of the wrong person and you won’t be able to talk your way out of it.” He grinned and twirled his fingers making a small stiletto shaped shard of ice appear in his hands.
“Isn't that why you taught me how to fight?” I frowned at him and gestured towards a stand of trees that would give us a bit of cover from passerby.
“We trained you so you could protect yourself from our enemies not so you could avoid paying for the trouble you caused.” I pulled off my jacket and worked my shirt out from under the armor, ringing it out before hanging it over a branch while I emptied the jacket pockets. I ignored the whistle of admiration from the boyish spirit behind me. “I need to speak to Gwynn ap Nudd as soon as possible, think you can behave long enough to act as my guide?”
“Hey! It's still protecting myself, I can't be blamed if nobody likes my jokes.” He reached for a tennis ball sized sphere of obsidian and I knocked his hand away as I set about the delicate work of coaxing the water out of my clothing. “Fine. I can take you gramps, but I don't think he's gonna be happy about you bringing this much firepower with you.”
“Stop calling me that or I'll start using your embarrassing names.” I waved as I saw Khan's form crest the gentle slope across the lake from us and he broke into a run. “Ap Nudd is going to have to deal with it. I've been attacked once this week already and nearly killed, I don't plan to be caught flat footed. Now show me where to get into Arawnn at, I want to get out of this area as quick as possible.” I managed to pull on my now only slightly wet shirt and got my coat back on and the items put back only having to take a few back from the other ice elemental present.
Jackual Frost was an anomaly, his energy had the same undeniable feel that marked a pure ice elemental that mine did, but he couldn't remember anything about his origins. I'd asked Khan and apparently the two of us had dedicated several centuries in the distant past to determining his parentage and come up short, somewhere along the line though he'd decided that since I was the first elemental of ice and he definitely wasn't my son I was his grandfather. It was unnerving as hell to have a figure out of myth call me “gramps” though. Jackual had the mind of a trouble-making prepubescent teenager, a frighteningly lack of comprehension of morality, and an unfortunate case of kleptomania. Somehow those personality flaws rarely got mentioned in the few myths about him, though.
“Hey old man I got a question for you. I've been catching a whiff of your energy around the Dorset area occasionally for a while now but any time I try getting close to it the trail vanishes. You want to tell me what that's about?” I sighed and ran a hand over the wire and crystal band on my arm. This close it was impossible not to feel the bundle of emotions from the mental beacon even with them boosting my mental defenses. I swallowed and nodded as Khan came closer.
“As far as I can figure I accidentally forged some sort of bond with someone in the area. I keep wandering into her dreams on accident and haven’t figured out a way to block it. I tried sending some stones to her to keep me out but I don’t know if she’s not keeping them with her or they just aren’t working.” I heard Khan let out a hiss at the comment and pointedly ignored the flash of disapproval I felt from him. He didn’t believe I’d created a bond this strong accidentally and thought I enjoyed randomly tripping into a woman’s mind and dreams.
“Hey Khan, you won’t like it, but the only way the King's going to let you in is if you give him your real name. Ever since the Christians came to the land he's been a bit touchy about letting people in and will turn away petitions if they don't show a sign of faith.” I glanced at Khan hoping he could come up with an alternative. Just using my true name in any setting ran a risk of drawing unwanted attention, what Jackual was proposing would mean declaring my identity openly and practically painting a target on my back for every soul since the dawn of time that had a grudge against me.
“Jackual, if we declare Cathal's true name it will mean a fight. You and I would be safe but Gwynn will need to settle for flesh and blood from him.” Old things like the Fae of any flavor and even gods would take blood as payment in place of a lot of things but it didn't really make it any more pleasant to have to open a vein. At least I could count on the rules of hospitality to require them to heal it afterward.
We followed Jackual back to the ancient ruins and soon ended up back at the remains of what had been Castle Narbreth's western gate. I didn't want to consider where the sandwiches Jackual gave us had come from, some deli was probably wondering how its inventory had vanished. But hey at least the food tasted good and I needed something to replace at least some of the energy I'd used holding my mind and body together traveling through the leylines halfway around the planet. Jackual also surprised me by producing a beautifully crafted if unadorned long bow carved from yew and a quiver of arrows that he handed to me. While we ate Jackual alternated glances between a silver pocket watch and the sinking sun.
“Stupid farmer's almanac said sunset was supposed to be twenty minutes ago.” He slipped the pocket watch away and stepped up to the edge of the ruined Castle gate.
A small flute made of ice appeared in his hands and he played a short melancholy tune on it before setting it down. I slid a knife out enough to draw a quick shallow slice across the back of my hand letting my blood drip on the ground as he and Khan both let out a litany of titles that identified them. Everyone thinks true names are something mystical, when really it’s the first name you ever used as a soul and the titles that are bound to it. For most people, calling their true name isn’t a big deal because they don’t do enough to make it known and forge a link with it. For someone like Khan it wasn’t just a major source of power from him and over him, but it took a long time for an introduction. We could and did use a short version for most things; the last time I’d heard someone use his full true name it had taken us over a month with pauses for meals to get through it all.
When both of them finished speaking their names, Jackual raised his arms to the sky and his voice carried out over the hillside filled with the silvery ring of his power. “Gwynn ap Nudd, lord of Arawnn, three travelers seek audience with you! Gwynn ap Nudd, Leader of the wild hunt, three souls seek entrance to your realm! Gwynn ap Nudd, Lord of the Tylwyth Teg, we three wish to meet with you!”
There was a slight shift as if the whole world had taken an abrupt step to the side without us and we were standing on an empty hilltop. I immediately felt the pressure of someone else’s emotions vanish and heaved a sigh of relief before looking around. The nearest trees could just barely be seen on the horizon to the east. Off to the west there was an enormous castle that an unpracticed eye would have called needlessly flamboyant due to the amount of marble and silver that liberally decorated it's crenellations and parapets. After a moment's inspection, I noted from the way the sun hit the stone that the walls had been smoothed and polished to prevent a climber from gaining any purchase and that the outer layers of defensive walls were shorter to allow archers positioned farther back to shoot over their allies’ heads. Even from what must have been half a mile away I thought I could see movement in the water of the moat.
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At the sound of hounds baying the three of us spun toward the source of the sound and I had my sword drawn and was set in a low fighting stance before the pack of Cwn Arawnn, the blood red at the tips of their tails and ears contrasting sharply against the pristine white of their bodies, ran towards and then past us at a panicked run. That gave me a moment of pause, there were very few things that could make even a portion of the wild hunt, let alone the infamous Hell Hounds, ignore potential prey in favor of running away. None of those things were something I was particularly interested in facing with only Khan and Jackual at my side.
“Run or fight? I doubt we can out pace a pack of hell hounds.” Khan nodded and pawed at the ground, his claws digging furrows in the soft earth.
“We're on a slight rise and the footing’s good here. I'd rather fight here than on flat ground with anything the Fae lands could throw at us.” I noted and looked at Jackual who simply nodded and conjured two daggers of ice from the air.
I sheathed my sword and pulled the bow Jackual had given me earlier off my shoulder and notched an arrow. A moment later the cause of the hounds’ panic came into sight. Fifty-five dark furred shapes moving in a tight arrow formation. I drew back on the bow, gauging the distance and then angling the bow to get the most range when the front of the line raised their heads in unison and released a deep wolf like howl of anticipation. Right, an entire battle pack of therianthropic wolves, yeah that would scare off a pack of hell hounds. Heck, I was starting to wish I had run away with them now, either this was the kind that was a little stronger than human with canine senses or, well honestly the level of how bad just got depressingly worse till it reached the point of wiped out with a thought bad. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled to calm myself, and released. The shaft arched into the air and came down at a sharp angle driving itself into the group and breaking the ranks up as the injured warrior faltered in its run. I drew the next shaft and released again, the arrow falling short and landing in the ground.
“Khan while I try to slow them why don't you and Jack see about prepping this little hillock of ours for a defense? Anything is better than nothing and even a sheet of ice will slow them down.” I was running on empty for energy. True, what I'd drawn from Cassandra that morning had been enough to qualify me as a demigod, but after mending my gear, fixing my head after an influx of memory, and then a major leyline walk I was tapped out metaphysically and if I didn't get a solid bit of rest soon I might physically collapse as well. On the other hand whoever was coming for me probably had a full night’s rest and a comparatively short jog to warm up on their side.
I drew and released another shaft. Hollywood makes a big deal about master archers being able to hit the eye of a charging target from hundreds of yards off, but it's a tricky sort of shot. Maybe some of the greats could do it with a little help but frankly arrows are pretty picky as ranged weapons go, a gust of wind will blow them off course, a slight irregularity in the shaft can make it wobble and if the fletching is too soft or too rigid it won't fly right either. And firing them in rapid succession, even with training, is a good way to wear out your body fast. Well it would be if I didn't cheat, I loosed shaft after shaft as fast as I could and kept the energy in my shoulders, back, and arms constantly circulating with a minor bit of concentration. I couldn't throw around arctic gales, freeze my enemies, or conjure weapons of ice like Jackual was without spending the energy keeping me alive but it barely took any energy to keep my body in prime condition.
Fortunately, I wasn't trying to win a target shooting competition. When you’re eight-hundred pounds of muscle wearing at least a hundred pounds of armor, carrying another forty in weapons and running at a full charge, an arrow piercing anything is going to ruin your day. For example, the two charging wolf men that got tangled up by a pack mate taking an arrow in the hip. A few shots fell into the ground between running bodies and some simply struck armor and broke but most managed to inflict damage if not casualties. By the time I'd exhausted my supply of arrows I'd taken down ten of the approaching targets, the ones that should have been wounded though had already caught back up to the main group as it slowed and spread into a line to sweep out and surround us. I slung the bow back over my shoulder and drew my sword again. I started digging through my pockets to find what I wanted with my free hand as the group formed into a collapsing ring around the base of the hill. My fingers finally brushed across the four-inch length of wire wrapped crystal I wanted. I settled into a balanced stance, my sword arm out with my back a few inches from Khan and Jackual's and waited. The circle finally collapsed down to the base of the small hill and a squat barrel-chested looking wolf man sniffed at the air for a few moments before pointing to me.
“Bring him, kill the others.” I shifted my stance. If they wanted me alive, they were going to be less likely to aim for killing strikes which would be in my favor. The first wolf man rushed forward and the ground erupted in narrow spikes of ice several inches long through his foot pitching him forward and causing more of the delicate spikes to spring up as he hit the ground. I let out a low whistle of appreciation.
“That looked painful, beautiful work you two.”
“Thanks. Modeled it after those Vietnamese punji traps.” One of Jackual’s ice daggers flicked past my face and sprouted out of the injured warriors leg making the rest take a few steps back from the frost covered ground. The apparent leader of the group reached forward and pulled his man up and back behind himself and the others.
“Pull yourself together Iapetos you’re disgracing me. I am pack leader Séaghdha, you murdered my brother’s pack, for that I've declared blood feud with you human.” Which meant he wanted to kill Khan and Jackual and drag me home to kill me in front of everyone personally one on one. I needed to stall him on some chance the Tylwyth Teg knew we were here and Gwynn ap Nudd was likely to send someone out once he found out what was out here from the hounds. Taking down one or two more people would help appease the local nobility anyways.
“Well sorry Shay old boy, but if your brother was leading the last pack that came after me you should probably go get some help and come back later. After all I have help this time. I wiped the floor with him and his whole pack alone without help last time and walked away with barely a scratch and a few dents on my gear, I barely had to polish my sword afterward.” The wolf shuffled forward cautiously and squatted down at the edge of the frost covered ground and eyed me.
“Careful with your words, mortal. I smelled the Æsir that helped you on the battlefield, no human warrior could take out a pack alone.”
“I'd reconsider that then puppy. Tyr and the tiger here just held the door open while I stretched my muscles.” I glanced at the unfortunate Iapetos and noted that most of his bleeding had stopped already.
Crap stronger than me and healing to make comic book characters envious, I'd have to aim for major injuries and killing blows. “Your brother’s pack was a joke. I've had yearling units that performed better, hell we haven't even started fighting and already you've got casualties. So think long and hard before you pick a fight with me or the next person I talk to may be standing in front of a battalion. Your tribe lost one pack leader already don't add another to the pile.” I didn't even look before bringing my arm up, my thumb snapped the first wire wrapped around the crystal I was holding and an ax aimed at my head bounced harmlessly off a faint shimmering teardrop shield that appeared on my arm.
“Oh I really wish you hadn't done that. Khan, Jackual, make it messy.” I flicked my sword and knocked another ax out of the air. I ducked under the first sword swing driving the point of my shield into the wonderfully sensitive paw in front of me as I snapped my sword up around the shield’s edge and under the edge of the breast plate before jerking the blade back out and splitting the armor open. I raised the shield barely a second before a second sword took my head off. I pushed back on the shield and snapped the crystal’s second wire ring and the energy around my arm transformed into a Scottish targe in time for the center spike to pierce the wolf man's heart. I took a half step back and fell into the formation with Jackual and Khan again. I leaned into the blow of another sword deflecting it wide and drove the tip of my blade forward and into the wolf man's head cringing as another warrior’s blow slammed against my arm only to be stopped by my armor.
I was moving too slow to counter them all and not only were they slowly working themselves into a frenzy but I wasn't even taking the brunt of the attack. I snarled as I sliced the arm off another attacker and closed my eyes letting my awareness of the energy around me expand and take the place of my sight. At the same time, I let my energy flow into the blade in my hand and then back into me and lashed out at the well of dark energy that approached me. The targe was too cumbersome, I saw the wave of bloodlust focused on my friend and grandson behind me and needed more than a single blade. I snapped the last two wire bands on the crystal and the targe transformed into a sword. I stepped forward into the press of darkness and sank into the part of my mind I avoided most of the time.
I think everyone has a place like this somewhere in them. It's where we put our darkest urges, where all the things that scare us about ourselves are locked away. I didn't like the fact that I was capable of some of the things I could do. I didn't like to admit even to myself that a part of me reveled in fighting, that part of me enjoyed throwing my skill and power against another's and leaving a mangled corpse behind. I hated that sometimes I wanted to drain all the energy from something instead of just enough to get by just to see what it would do to a person when I ripped all the life from them. Not many people had to consider what would happen to the world if they cut loose and decided to reshape it as they saw fit, there was a small part of me that sometimes wondered if it wouldn't be better if I did that. I didn’t want to admit that any of that was in me. At my core I took pride in creating and building things, but you can't create without destroying and right now I needed all the destruction I could manage so I let out every dark impulse I had and gave it free reign.
On some dim level I felt sorry about what it meant for me to let that part free. Then again battle packs like this would do any job for whoever could meet the price and they tended to work for some very unsavory people and do the kind of things that would make hardened career soldiers run for the latrine. The shimmering phantom sword met its first target and slid through the armor without resistance bringing a wave of energy with it as the crystal that anchored the construct pulled in the warrior's energy and filtered out all but what I could use. I sunk farther into my mind letting my memories of countless battles and hours of training dictate my movements and focused my mind on the task of moving the energy in my body, keeping it flowing in the two blades and my limbs, making me stronger and faster as each strike against an enemy let me drain a bit of their strength. A slow cadence of movements started running in the back of my mind; duck, slash up, thrust, step forward, deflect, follow through, kick, thrust up, swing down, sidestep, thrust, spin, block… Each time I drew blood I drew more power into me making me swifter and faster, and healing the minor wounds I took as quickly as they were inflicted. The cycle of feeding as I fought created a steady pace for the battle that I knew I could maintain indefinitely as I pushed aside thoughts of Khan and Jackual trusting them to protect each other.