Day 11 of Midwinter, Sunrise

Lower City, Gorias

Annwn

He carried a pail of water in each hand, and clean towels under one arm. There was no mistaking him. I had never seen him before, but if ever there was a god of Love, it would be him. He looked nothing like his mother, but his golden-red locks had a curl to them, the way I would have imagined his father’s would if his hair were longer. His beard was as beautifully curled as his hair. His face was soft, and his look was regal, though he couldn’t hide his surprise at finding us in the street.

“Da? Ma? What are you doing here?” Aengus set the pails down and handed the towels to a curvaceous woman nearby. The sultry woman was striking, though not quite as striking as Aengus. He came to his father, pulling him into an embrace. His gaze turned to his mother, but Nemain remained an arm's distance away from him. She gave a conciliatory half-smile.

The Dagda embraced his son with both arms. “Never have I been so happy to see you outside the walls of Saighead. Tell us… what has happened here?”

“Forgive our rush,” Nemain interrupted, pulling Aengus from his father. She turned him to face her. He only then appeared to notice the rest of us, his eyes falling upon the Fiacha flanking Nemain. “Your father tells us there is a way inside of the castle.” Aengus looked confused for a moment, but then he took a deep breath in understanding.

As I watched the trio fumble over their awkward family reunion, I caught a glimpse of something strange—a silver cross around Aengus’s neck. The heavily tarnished cross was simple in form, lacking any knot-work or decorations. It contained four similarly sized lines and a circle in the middle. What was a clearly Christian cross doing here in the otherworld?

I must have been staring because Fíadan elbowed me in the leg, though when I looked down, she, too, was staring at the man. Her cheeks were flushed pink. I kicked her back, gently, and she dug her nails into my hand in response.

Aengus looked back to his father, as if for permission, then escorted us farther up the block and away from any listening ears. “The Fomorians came in quietly, appearing to know that you, sister, and little Roo were away.”

“Is Cai here?” Fíadan asked suddenly, flying up to where Aengus could see her. He smiled and took one of her small hands, kissing it softly.

“Dearest Fí,” he murmured. “I had no doubt that you would come.” Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly and her cheeks flushed a darker shade of red. Her eyes found the ground.

“Son…” The Dagda said, looking toward the sky. It looked as though it would begin to lighten at any moment.

Aengus released Fí’s hand and signed. “Yes. I know why you are here. The ‘Last Redort,’ father used to jokingly call it.” He paused thoughtfully. “I never thought we’d actually have to use it… But he and I should be able to open it together.”

“Redort?” Nemain asked. “What is a redort?”

“A door that is a last resort?” The Dagda quickly added, a slight smile on his face.

Nemain just stared. “Forget I asked… Where does it bring us into the castle?” She was visibly antsy, looking about half a second away from dragging Aengus to the castle herself.

Fíadan answered for them, having shaken off whatever effect Aengus had on her. “Uaimh an Bhróin… The Cave of Sorrows. It is the lowest room in the castle, even lower than the vault and the prisons. It is where they keep the Duinnite ore from the fallen Ellyllon who served under High King Bres.” Her small face was pale and more sober than I had ever seen it. “It is…not a place I wish to go.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I watched an expression of deep sorrow and compassion flit across Nemain's face before it returned to its usual stern expression. Still, her eyes were soft as she said, “Unless you know of another way in, I’m afraid this is our last option.”

“What will you do once you are in?” Aengus asked. No one seemed surprised that he seemed to be excluding himself from those who would enter the castle.

“We find Morias!” I blurted before anyone could prioritize anything else.

“Son, this is Bren Búachaill. He is…” The Dagda paused, apparently not knowing where to begin.

“…here to help,” I said, trying to speed things along. “Morias is like family to me.”

Aengus looked troubled. “I did not realize the sage was here in Gorias. They will likely be keeping him in the prisons, two levels up from the cave.”

We all started moving then. The Dagda began to lead us toward the castle. He called over his shoulder as he jogged. “There may be Fomorians blocking our path, as the vaults are just above the cave. They will likely have emptied the vaults of weapons and armor.”

“And magic items,” Nemain said.

A dark thought entered my mind. “Speaking of magic items,” I began as we stopped behind the corner of a tavern. The Dagda peered out from behind the corner. I used the moment to emphasize my point. “Morias had this clasp of magic rings. If they have truly taken him prisoner… or worse, then they likely have access to all of those rings.”

“That prize would have gone to the highest-ranking Fomorian in their army,” The Dagda responded. From our position, we could see the base of the castle, and dark figures walking atop the walls. The sky was just beginning to lighten.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, feeling adrenaline begin to course through my body.

“You should split up,” Aengus said in the silence that fell over the group. “If you can open the gates and let in the townsfolk, we will assist you.”

Something about what Aengus said made sense, yet there was a nagging feeling that splitting the party might be a bad thing. I was about to say as much when Nemain nodded in agreement. “We have three objectives. We open the gate. We free the Queen’s Guard. And we save Morias.”

I saw nodding heads around our small group. Maybe they were right…To achieve all three goals, we would need to split up.

Nemain continued speaking, appearing to be formulating the plan in her head as she went. “I will create a distraction on the wall as Aengus and his father open the secret entrance. Fíadan, you will go to the gate and attempt to open it.”

The Dagda appeared to realize his likely role. “I will take Bren to the prisons and search for Morias and the Ellyllon.”

“Take my Fiacha with you,” Nemain said. “They will protect you. We will meet again in the central courtyard.”

The group took one last look around at each other. The Dagda looked as if he was about to say something, but chose to stay silent in the end. I wondered if he was thinking about Ruadan like I was. But it was past time for those thoughts.

Nemain stood and I watched in awe as her body broke apart into a dark flurry of moving shapes. Within seconds, the shapes had transformed into a swirling mass of Ravens, like those I had seen in her initial fight with Cai and Tethra. The birds flocked up and away from us to the wall.

I looked back to the group only to find that almost everyone else had already begun running to the base of the castle wall. Only Fíadan remained. I instinctively almost bolted, but the look on Fí’s face stopped me.

“Not all of us will make it back,” she said, her eyes searching mine. I nodded to show I understood. “I’m prepared to die here. It would be a fitting end for me, protecting the first place I ever called home.”

“But you aren’t going to die,” I said, coming close and cupping her little head in my hands. She was so small compared to me, but I knew in just a few moments, her tiny frame would be gleefully carving through the Fomorian warriors, leaving only death behind her.

She allowed my gesture of affection for a brief moment, peering up at me with her glitter-filled eyes. “You are where you belong now, Bren.” She had never called me by my first name before…not ever. Just hearing my name escape her lips made my stomach churn. I didn’t know what to say.

“But, even still, it's a large burden he has placed on you, whether you realize it or not. It never was fair.”

I didn’t know what she was talking about and I didn’t have time to ask her meaning. The Fiacha, The Dagda, and Aengus had already reached the bottom of the wall, and judging by the distant sounds of pure chaos, the murder of ravens had reached the top. We were out of time.

“Go,” she said, with a sad smile. “It’s time we earned our glory. Give 'em hell, shorty.”

As the moment passed, something changed in her face. It was like watching the second set of eyelids close over a Great White shark’s eyes. She had flipped some sort of internal predatory switch. Fíadan my friend was gone from me, and Fíadan the hunter was about to draw blood. I reflexively pulled my hands away from her face and she flew away. There was nothing else to be done.

It was time to storm the castle.