Day 9 of Midwinter, Midday
Caisleán Corrán, Findrias
Annwn
After stepping through the green-tinged rift in the world, I was surprised to find myself alone again. Both Fíadan and The Dagda were nowhere to be seen. Though I was in a very dark hallway, my Minor Cavern Vision boon allowed me to see perfectly.
There was a familiarity with the narrow stone hallway. The doorways looked more like the backside of sliding panels, and the bright light streamed through small spy holes in the walls. I suddenly knew exactly where I was. This hallway was the one I had stood in only 11 hours ago. Had it really only been this morning that Ériu offered me a way back home? It seemed so long ago already.
I was back in Cloudfair…more precisely, in the secret passageways of Cloudfair, only this time I did not have a guide. Though I could see in the blackness, there were no discernible landmarks. Stepping up to the wall, I looked through the nearest set of holes. There was another hallway on the other side, one that was ornately decorated in the green heraldic colors of Findrias.
Before I could make any additional observations about my location, I heard The Dagda’s voice in my head…
Name: Bren Búachaill
Race: Undetermined
Current Power Rank - Level 9
Current Progression Status:
Physical Progression +11
(currently bound by Power Rank Level)
Mental Progression +6
(currently bound by Power Rank Level)
Spiritual Progression +11
(currently bound by Power Rank Level)
You have been gifted with the following boons:
Control Energy
Erratic Agility
Minor Cavern Vision has evolved into Dark Vision
Four magic items are in your possession.
You have acquired:
The Rings of Identification
Urias’ Meshmail of Adaptation
The Dagger of Transmogrification
Fernawen’s Shell of Promise
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You have one bound minion:
Monty, oilliphéist (out of range)
You have one blood-borne curse:
Mark of the Bodach (Permanent)
I must have raised my Power Rank in the fight with the Bodach. The Dagda had told me I couldn’t level outside of Annwn, but now that I was back in Annwn, I seemed to be reaping the boons and curses from that encounter. But…the “Permanent” marker on my curse wasn’t a good sign.
I looked from left to right down the passageway, trying to recall my earlier trip through these hallways. I had no sense of where I was and also no sense of where I should go. What I did know was that I didn’t want to go back to the locked confines of my room. But would Monty still be there? I wasn’t sure, given the “out of range” notification for my minion.
Out of ideas, I started walking. I turned at random through what began to feel like a labyrinth of Grecian proportions. Eventually, I came to a spot that seemed to let in more light than the other hidey-holes I had walked by. The spy holes revealed a large, empty room facing a grand set of windows. I slid the panel to the side and stepped into the room.
The room appeared to reside on the highest point of a rectangular coliseum. Back in the (good ol') U.S. of A., it would have been called a skybox. I looked around and confirmed that I was, indeed, back in Findrias. The clouds flowed in and around the windows and the air was cool.
I stepped closer to the windows and the scene before me nearly took my breath away. Below me was a huge field full of hundreds of men and women in armor. They stood at attention in clusters.
At the head of the army, I saw a figure I recognized. She was wearing familiar black leather and her long black hair whipped in the wind. It was Nemain, The Morrigan… or at least one-third of The Morrigan, as I understood it. I didn’t get the tri-part divination of the three sisters. Celtic goddesses, am I right?
She rode her black and white horse back and forth in front of the army. As she rode, she called out to the soldiers, and though I couldn’t hear her actual words, I got the feeling whatever she was saying was Braveheart-esque. Periodically, crowds of what looked like changelings would let out a cheer. Near the front were a handful of Ellyllon soldiers who did not wear the Findrias green. Instead, they had donned the Morrigan’s black leather and had one side of their heads shaved, just like Nemain.
The scene was frightening to behold. By herself, Nemain was intense, but in front of an army, she was beyond fierce. I felt a fire in my chest as I thought about Flamebright and Morias. Anger and resolve found purchase in my mind as the heat pumped throughout my body.
The goddess of frenzy turned her horse again, glancing up in my direction. She gave an imperceptible nod. She couldn’t possibly see me up here, could she? No, I realized. Despite my distance from her army, I had emotionally tied myself to their fervor and she must have felt it.
I stepped back from the window, trying to cool the heat in my blood. Hearing the sound of footsteps approaching from outside of the room, I ducked back into the passageways and slid the panel closed. From there, I continued exploring the seemingly endless hallways. After a time, I began to get a sense of Caisleán Corrán from the inside.
Hearing the sounds of familiar voices, I stopped. Looking through the spy holes, I saw the council chamber where I had been sentenced. Badb, Macha, and Ériu sat, listening intently to the raised voices of Ernmas and Cian.
Badb’s eyes slowly moved to the panel that I stood behind. The corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. Did she know I was here? Wait…of course she knew. She embodied the fate aspect of the Morrigan, after all. Prophecy and fortunetelling were in her wheelhouse. Surely guessing that I would come back to the Otherworld wouldn’t be difficult for her.
My attention turned back to the conversation taking place in the council room. Cian seemed to be addressing Ériu directly. “Why did you allow Bren to return to your realm?”
She sat silently before him, her posture regal, without a trace of worry on her brow. Ernmas came to her daughter’s aid, though I could hear an overtone of annoyance in her voice. “She has always had a soft spot for those from the mortal realm.”
“But he is no mortal,” Ériu said gently. “He is a child of the Cold Moon, the first to be born of the Pool in thousands of years.”
“He does not have a domain, and therefore is not Tuatha,” Macha said in a flat voice.
Badb nodded thoughtfully, then turned her attention to address the room. “Not yet… but Bren is our kin.”
The room fell silent. I imagine her family had learned a long time ago that arguing with the goddess of fate was an unproductive endeavor.
Ériu turned to Ernmas, perhaps recognizing an ally in her mother. “Bren was pulled between the two worlds. He needed the opportunity to choose his place in this world and in this war.”
“This war…” Cian shook his head. “We need to find OUR place in this war.”
Ernmas banged her fist on the table. “Gorias has been taken. Something must be done!”
“Nemain will see justice done,” Cian responded to his sister.
“As will I.” Badb and Macha spoke in unison.
Cian rolled his eyes. “Of course you will. But we can’t have the whole of our armies riding to war with the Slaugh protesting outside our gates.”
“The Slaugh, brother?” Ernmas shook her head at him and turned to her daughters. “Despite his use of antiquated terms, I agree with Cian. We mustn’t leave Cloudfair defenseless. Ériu, I would like you to remain here as well.”
“That makes three companies of Findrias troops dispatched to Gorias.” Cian appeared to be doing some sort of military math in his head as he spoke. “Led by Badb, Macha, and Nemain.”
Badb glanced back in my direction. “You are forgetting someone.”
So much for free will, I thought as I slid the panel open and stepped out to face my fate.