< Bren >

Day 14 of Midwinter, Sunset

At Sea, Well of Wisdom

Annwn

I managed to wrestle the gauntlets off first. From there, I disconnected the belt and shoulder guards. Lir simply watched with an air of amusement, though I noticed he didn’t get any closer during the energy flare-up.

“I’m… Bren,” I tried to say, teetering on shaky legs… and was that burnt toast I suddenly smelled?

Lir looked me up and down. “Are you well?”

“I think so.” I glanced back down at the armor. “Did someone actually wear that armor?”

“Not since the founding of the great cities.”

I thought maybe he was speaking about Falias, Gorias, Murias, and Findrias, but things were still a little fuzzy in my shell-shocked brain. “I want to know more about…what’s-his-name...but I’m having a hard time focusing right now.” My vision swam.

Lir came forward and took the sword from my hands. He gently leaned it back on the wall and led me to a chair. “Taranis was a Síorláidir. Like you, it would seem.”

“Like me…” I chuckled. “Before you tell me anything else about the sky god, can you please start with what Síorláidir means?”

“You don’t know what you are?” Lir's lips twitched. He seemed genuinely amused by my complete and utter confusion. My physical disorientation seemed to only add to his amusement.

“I haven’t really had a chance to learn about my…uh…recent changes. I was saving a long list of questions for Morias for the next time I see him.” I paused, thinking about my friend and caretaker. The last time I had seen Morias, he was unconscious atop the parapet in Gorias. Thanks to my brother, I at least knew he and Fíadan were still alive.

Lir nodded. “You can ask me your questions if you like.”

“No offense, but so far your brothers and sisters haven’t really given me much reason to trust members of your family."

“Hence why I left.”

That statement gave me pause. I hadn’t considered what Lir’s reason for leaving the court of Overking might be until now, but it made sense. Before I could think better of it, I blurted, “You know, your brother is a real dink.”

Lir looked confused. “I’m afraid I don’t know what a 'dink' is.”

I ignored him. I didn’t think I could define it either, come to think of it. “Let’s just say that Nuada locked up his own son just because he admitted to being my friend.”

“My brother does not forget perceived slights,” he said. I raised my eyebrows, letting him know I thought this was maybe a bit of an understatement. Unfazed, he continued, “You asked about the Síorláidir?”

I nodded.

“I once thought that the Síorláidir were the lost powers of the realms. They were the gods of this world before the coming of my family.”

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

“What do you mean you ‘once thought’ they were the lost powers?”

He smiled. “That is what I believed...until a Síorláidir came to visit me at Tir fo Thuinn and nearly exploded himself playing with the sky god's armor.”

“Har de har har,” I muttered, realizing he was talking about me. I waved at him to keep talking.

“Mother Danu was among their number, as was Father Death.”

“Donn?” I asked, trying to remember the Tuatha patriarch’s name.

“Indeed. My brothers and I called them the ‘Greater Gods,’ or the ‘Old Powers.’ They represent the dualistic nature of the realms”

“Danu represents life and Donn represents death. The same duality exists between my brother and I. We are Harmony and Chaos." I had cobbled together some rudimentary knowledge of my own duality in the last two weeks, so I actually knew what he was talking about. Sort of. "What were some of the others?”

Lir motioned to the armor sitting in a heap in front of me. “Taranis was the god of the heavens. His counterpart was Eiocha, the embodiment of the land and sea. Eiocha built this room, as a refuge, when the Síorláidir began to disappear.”

I shook my head as I tried to wrap my mind around a second pantheon of gods in this crazy world. Then I had a thought...was there only one pantheon at a time? It seemed like it. The Síorláidir were the first generation of gods in Annwn. Lir and his Tuatha brothers and sisters came about as the old gods were disappearing. “Does that mean Danu and Donn were the last of the dualistic gods?”

“Until the night of the Cold Moon, yes.” Lir paused, looking away from me. He scanned the room, appearing to take inventory of each weapon, bit, and bauble lying around. “I’ve never been able to enter this gateway before.”

He stood and extended a hand, helping me to my own feet. I staggered at first, as a wave of dizziness came and went, leaving me feeling mostly normal. “You mentioned Tir fo Thuinn. Is that the underwater room I was just in?”

Lir had stepped away from me and appeared to be assessing the various items in the room. His voice was distracted. “Yes. Its name roughly translates to 'The Land Under the Waves.' It is a means to and from Annwn for those in need.”

“A portal room,” I said, pondering his words. “Why haven’t you come into this room before?”

Lir glanced back at me, looking troubled. “The ‘portals’ change and fluctuate according to the needs and the deeds of those across the realms. Though I have seen this gateway before, it has never presented an opportunity for my entry.” As he spoke, he carefully examined weapons and other items, lifting and discarding each in turn, before continuing his circumnavigation of the room.

And me? I found myself eyeing a nearby flask Lir had already assessed and discarded. My thoughts drifted, again, to Morias. He had always carried a flask with him. The last time I had seen that flask, it had contained magic water that he made me drink. Never mind that it was water he had wrung out of his clothing after a swim in the Heart-shaped Pool. I shuddered, remembering, then reached out and pocketed the flask. Clearly, it wasn't of interest to Lir.

I heard a clatter from the other side of the room. “You don’t see this every day,” Lir said. He reached into the cold forge, pulling out a dark staff with a large knot on the end. “A Lustrum alloy shillelagh.” He tossed the staff and I caught it with ease.

I turned the imperfect staff around in my hands, testing the properties. Though it appeared to have been forged intentionally crooked, the length and weight felt...somehow right. The gnarled, misshapen knot on the end made for a great handhold, and also, I suspected, a brutal hammerhead.

The staff had looked black at first, but now that I angled it in the light, I could see a rainbow of colors within the darkness. With a start, I realized the staff was made of the same alloy as the meshmail Ruadan had given me in Gorias. I used my Advanced Identification boon to get more information:

Cast Lustrum Shillelagh

Lustrum is an alloy made from cold iron mixed with smelted Duinnite ore. It contains some of the lightness and durability of grown Silverwhite, but allows the metal to be forged or shaped. This weapon was cast from an ancient Blackthorn shillelagh and retains each thorn scar and knot of the original.

Your domain classification Battlesmith allows you the ability to modify this weapon with little or no equipment. This item is a lustrum shillelagh. Would you like to MODIFY this item?

I mentally focused on NOT modifying the ancient weapon. Instead, I placed the tip to the ground and transferred some of my weight onto the non-wooden, very metal walking stick. It was a weird weapon to want to hold on to, but in a strange way, it felt very me.

“Bren,” Lir called. He stood next to the portal leading back to the large underwater room. “Grab the armor and come with me. There is something I need you to do.”