Ciaran lay flat on his back, looking up at the storm. The wind was gone from his lungs, and he cried. He felt failure at preventing the loss of Celthair again. He had seen her lift the sword and plunge it into the ground.

Gradually the storm went off to the north and the sun began to set. He did not know Celthair was watching the same setting of the two suns from the tops of the distant mountains. So, he cried some more, got up and walked back to Dom and Mags who were and brushing their horses as they grazed.

“Where is Celthair?” asked Mags.

“Gone,” Ciaran replied. “She just disappeared. I have called out for her, but she is not here.”

“Let’s keep trying at least,” said Mags, looking alarmed.

They mounted the horses and rode to the spot where Ciaran had last seen her.

“See here.” He pointed to a spot on the ground where the sword had hit the ground. There was a shallow hole and a black residue fanning outward from it.

“This is where she stood, she was talking to someone. There was lightning on this spot and her and the hooded one, just disappeared.”

“You mean walked off?” asked Dom.

“No, one moment they were there, then they were gone in the next.” Replied Ciaran.

“How could that be?” said Dom.

“I have stories of the Dark Lord being able to use elemental power to do this. I think it was Buadach that used it to kidnap her. She is alive but somewhere else.”

Ciaran’s heart rose. “She is alive, and she is strong. She will be okay, I am sure.”

“We must continue on to Imchad,” said Dom. “There is nothing more we can do.”

They all dejectedly agreed. Ciaran picked up the reigns of Celthair’s horse and they left, looking for the road they had strayed from, that led toward Imchad.

It was very late in the night that they came upon the camp of the Anakim and Emim they were following. After the guards confirmed their identity, he gave them the warm meaty soup that was being kept warm for them then after they had eaten, showed them their beds which had been set up in case of their return. For this they were all grateful.

Ciaran slept fitfully, Celthair’s disappearance had unsettled him. He missed her and constantly chided himself for not doing more.

A few days later they arrived in Imchad, city of the giants.

Every flag was flying, and the city had come out to welcome them. The three friends felt small in the middle of the large buildings. They felt as if they were in a valley with mountains each side of them, the giants were like trees in proportion. Ciaran was welcomed by Queen Ariadne as he arrived at the top step of the royal palace. He marvelled at its grandeur. Not even Celthair’s description did it justice.

The gates were not of wood but of marble. Stacked and bound with iron bands holding it together. It rode smoothly on iron tracks and opened at the slightest push.

Celthair had told him of Queen Ariadne and her description was perfect. She was not as tall as the other giants and her face was beautiful and gentle. Which was very different to many of the other Anakim.

“Greetings Ciaran, son of Aillel. I have known your father and can see his likeness in you. I look forward to spending time with you and hearing of your father.”

Ciaran bowed low, as Celthair had taught him.

“I see you have learned out ways,” she said, smiling.

“Celthair taught me,” replied Ciaran.

“I know that name,” the queens eyes widened. “You know of her, is it Celthair of Athlethan, son of Tuatha and Laegaire?”

“It is, she was with us but disappeared. We do not know where she went, but we know it had something to do with Buadach.”

“The wizard?” she growled. “He is not welcome in these lands.”

“I know she is alive,” said Ciaran.

“This we hope, I wish to see her again,” said the queen sadly.

She looked up and Ciaran saw her countenance change. He stepped aside because she was looking beyond him. He turned as saw Queen Darya walking up the steps of the palace.

He looked at Queen Ariadne. Changing emotions passed across her face.

Queen Darya arrived before Queen Ariadne. She fell to her knees and bowed to the ground. Her head at Ariadnes feet.

“There is no need,” said the queen, “rise to your feet sister.”

Darya rose and Ariadne put her arms around her, and they hugged, tears in their eyes.

Those who witnessed it, cheered at the sight. Anakim patted the Emim soldiers on the back and there were smiles all round.

“Why were they fighting?” Mags asked Dom.

“It’s a long story, ask one of them.” Dom said dismissively, not looking at her. He walked away from her, leaving Mags alone and sad. Missing Celthair dreadfully, no longer wanting to be there, despite the festivities.

Stolen story; please report.

Many giants came to talk with her, some asked her if she knew Celthair, Tuatha and Laegaire in her own language, but it was hard to tell them. She battled on, exhausted from the past days’ events.

It was the last giant that approached her that provided relief. He was shorter than any of the others. He bowed low and spoke to her in her own language clearly and well.

“My name is Grost, I was a friend of Celthair. You look exhausted my dear, come with me I will show you your lodgings.”

Mags burst into tears, finally able to release her feelings. The friendly Anakim translator ushered her quickly away from the crowds and allowed her to sob into his waist. This was where her head was in proportion, and he patted her head. “There, there,” he murmured.

When she was done, and she had a left a good size wet patch on Grost’s shirt. They walked to a house, more like the houses in her own part of the world.

“This was Tuatha and Laegaire’s home for many cycles,” he told her.

He left her and she bathed and lay down in a bed and slept, she didn’t know for how long, but it was longer than usual.

She awoke to hear Dom and Ciaran arrive. Typically talking loudly and without regard for her. She thought of Dom and began to cry quietly. She heard them go past her door which was open. They saw her in the bed and suddenly they went quiet. She cried but smiled, picturing their realisation that she was there asleep, and the stupid expressions on their faces.

Dom had hurt her badly. She had told him of her feelings when they were above the cliff face, and they had stayed behind to explore their feelings with each other. He had kissed her and suddenly pushed her away. He had not said a word after that. She saw revulsion in his eyes, and he left her alone on the top of the stairs. The way he had told her he had no feelings for her burned deep in her heart. She still admired him but this side of him she despised. They had only spoken politely since about trivial matters. She thought he would apologise at one stage, but he rudely walked away from a question she had asked him. He had ample opportunity to apologise but had not.

Once it had gone quiet, she got up and met them in the main room. They were half asleep and she felt some compassion for them, knowing how tired she had been and realising they had been out for hours after she had gone to sleep. She found food and made three bowls up, taking it out to them. They gratefully ate the food and Ciaran smiled at her thankfully.

Dom did not raise his eyes to even look at her and her heart ached for his friendship.

Ciaran left to sleep but before he left, he took her hand and kissed it.

She looked at Dom, expecting him to follow. But he sat there dejectedly looking at the floor.

“You should go and sleep,” said Mags.

He glanced up quickly but looked back at the ground.

“What is wrong? She asked. “Did I say something or do something that revolted you for you to treat me this way? I would be happy if we were good friends.”

She knew he was tired and that it was probably not the best time, but her heart ached, and she knew she would not sleep, and he would not sleep, unless this was resolved between them.

He sighed and shuffled up into a straighter position.

“That’s a good start,” she thought. “He at least is trying to be respectful.”

“I miss Gretta,” he said. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Everything became clear. He did not need to say anything else. He had kissed her and felt guilt. It was nothing to do with her. The distaste he had shown was guilt. The shame of how he had treated her was the rudeness. They were adults, how could he not see it, how could she not realise it?

“I forgive you.” She spoke.

Dom looked at her hopefully and then gratitude.

“I am sorry.” He spoke. “I felt like I was cheating.”

“It was too close to her loss when we kissed. I understand. I want to be your friend and help you through this hard time.”

“I have thought about it since then,” he said. “Gretta made me promise something. She asked me not to mourn her too long if she died and to find another like her. I dismissed it at the time as nonsense because I did not believe she could ever die, not Gretta, so full of life and love. She would punish me like I punished you these last few days if I let you go again. She would want you for me!”

These last few words made Mags heart burst. She felt weak and helpless.

Mags jumped up and fell into the chair alongside Dom hugging him hard.

She pulled her head back looking at him in the eyes. He was grinning.

“I didn’t think that would work,” he laughed as he spoke.

“It didn’t,” Mags said, slapping him on the face slightly too hard. “I’m doing this for her.” Then she kissed him on the lips.

Dom closed his eyes, feeling the pressure of Mags against his chest and fell asleep.

Mags smiled to herself and got up, placing a rug over Dom’s snoring form. Then she went back to bed to sleep for the rest of the night.

There were no major events that happened over the following weeks. Ciaran had endless official events and debriefs to go to. He spent a lot of time with the two queens. He told them of Athlethan and Esclarmonde, how they had progressed in the last few years of peace. How Tuatha and Laegaire’s son Aillel had married Dreya, the daughter of Conail and Freysia of Don Cluana. Ariadne was delighted to hear all these things.

One day, they were all reclining in the sunshine on a balcony, looking toward the East over the hazy countryside. Suddenly the alarm bells sounded from the east side of the city. Horns were blown and people began to hastily run back to their homes and families.

Ciaran rose and looked hard to the east. It the sky there was a bird flying toward them. He realised then that it was big, and not a bird. As it got closer, it got bigger and bigger.

“It’s a leviathan,” said Mags, who had the best eyes. “What is it doing here?” Eventually it was over them and its shadow darkened over them for a moment. It looked silhouetted against the sun, black and ominous.

It flew in the direction of the palace and disappeared behind the large buildings. It roared loudly and some giants cried out in trepidation.

Ciaran, Mags and Dom ran as fast as they could for the palace.

“I can’t be sure but its possible,” panted Ciaran as they ran. “But I think its Dray Goen.”

When they arrived the palace guard were around the leviathan their long staves pointed at it. It bellowed and roared again.

Ciaran ran between the guard and into the circle standing in front of the leviathan. Now he was certain, it was Dray Goen. He saw movement at his feet and looked. Standing there in all her beauty was Celthair. Ciaran sobbed and fell to his knees. He could not believe it. He got up and ran to her, lifting her high and dropping her down into his tight embrace. She laughed and pushed him away.

“Not in front of everyone!”

“I don’t care,” he said. Grabbing her hand and pulling her close.

The palace guard instantly raised their lances, stepping back from the huge beast that dwarfed even them.

Dray Goen settled into a non-aggressive pose.

The palace gates slid open, and Queen Ariadne stepped out, walking down the steps towards Dray Goen.

When Celthair saw her, she walked quickly to meet her. The Queen was awed by the sight of the Leviathan. They knew of their existence, but she had never seen one this close. So, she did not notice the arrival of Celthair, until she spoke.

Ariadne saw before her a young woman, white hair and the likeness of Laegaire, an old friend.

“My dear little Celthair,” she said with affection. She leaned down and picked up Celthair like a parent picks up a young child and held her to her chest in a warm and not too tight embrace.

“Dear Aunty Ari,” she said calling her by her child pet name.

It took a long time for Celthair to recount her time with Buadach and her self-reflection.

“I was so wrong to think I could control the elemental powers this sword offered.” She spoke. “But now, it is just a sword. My father told me how important my lessons on Riangbra were. I learned but did not feel it was important till now. Riangbra teaches another way. A better way. One of patience and trust. Not the path a was on of pride and arrogance. The love all of you offered me, never left my mind,” she said, looking around. “I love all of you for that”. Her eyes finished on Ciaran and her heart thumped hard in her chest.