The day of council arrived. The city had calmed down, people were subdued and seemed to watch behind them a little more than they used to.
Council consisted of the elected elders of the city, chosen by the people. There were four elders of the healers, four of the people and four of the royal court. The queen always attended and always had the final vote on decisions that were discussed and made.
Visitors and requestees were given special seats and people from the city were given limited seats. Once they were full, no others were allowed in.
“Court is in session,” said the president.
After a few decisions were made in the running of the city, the queen stood and introduced Celthair, stating her status and position also giving her a glowing reference. Most of the elders knew her anyway and nodded at the Queen’s words, agreeing with her without and disagreement.
The president motioned to her to rise and speak.
Celthair bowed and spoke in their language.
“Lords and ladies”, she began. Celthair recounted to them her journey and how she had come to them. They listened in silence, how she had made the mistake of letting elemental power go to her head. That because of her, the people were dying. She ended with a humble plea to be shown how to heal her people using the gifts of the Anakim.
The four healer elders looked puzzled at her question.
One of them rose and asked her a question.
“Why do you ask how to heal, you have been trained in Riangbra and you also have a Scatach sword which is able to access the light. Your own father did it using Salchah.”
Celthair suddenly laughed.
She had gone looking in the wrong direction.
The elders continued.
“We do have healers, but their ability lies in accessing the light from the stars. They imbue their poultices and medicine with this light which has the healing properties that derive from the very creation of this world. We call it Shekinah light.”
Celthair drew Mac Roth and held it up before them. “This sword is not pure Scatach metal. The maker was not able to perfectly replicate Salchah. It is corrupted and has only ever accessed elemental power. “
Another elder rose and spoke. “It can access both, it is about balance. If you access both powers at the same time, there will be enough power to heal many at once. Because it is balanced, it will not age you.”
“I do not know how’” said Celthair.
“We will show you after council,” said the elder. “We do not want to hide our secret because many of your people know it already. Bring the sword and the Leviathan Dray Goen, he will be needed as well. Meet us at the golden tower. Mags and Dom must remain here, this is not for their eyes.”
Celthair could not hide her excitement from Ciaran. They both ran to see Dray Goen and ask him for help. Dray Goen agreed. He offered his neck, and they climbed on.
The golden tower was the highest building in Imchad. There was a large platform on the top and from there they had a commanding view of the whole city and the country beyond. Soon the four healers arrived. In the centre of the platform was a black rock.
“Place Mac Roth and the scabbard on this rock,” said an elder.
“Now we must meditate and await the night.”
The leviathan leaned their heads close over the table, beneath them kneeled Ciaran and Celthair, around the table. The leviathan began to chant a song, deep, ancient and full of meaning and power. The words were in the ancient language of Emain. The Solais seemed to fall as it set and the sky went red and then dark. Time seemed to move fast, and the voices of the elders grew louder as if coming to a crescendo. The effect on their mind was almost overwhelming yet pleasant at the same time.
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Finally, the eternal words of Riangbra, powerful words of prophecy. Also spoken in ancient tongue but translated as “Riangbra is and will be, as always it has been, forever in life, never in pain, the cycle continues till it is broken, death, never again. The Leviathan rises, hope and deliverance, the fifth son of the good and the daughter of evil, united to bring balance and life.”
This was spoken six times. After the sixth Dray Goes stretched and walked over to the black table. Looking down on the sword.
The elders began to speak the words again, the seventh time. All went dark around them as a star, the brightest star in the sky grew brighter and brighter as if it was coming closer to them.
“Riangbra is and will be, as always it has been, forever in life, never in pain, the cycle continues till it is broken, death, never again. The Leviathan rises, hope and deliverance, the fifth son of the good and the daughter of evil, united to bring balance and life.”
As they spoke the last words a beam of light came down from the star. It had been seen before travelling through Salchah in the last great battle of the Third age. Then Dray Goen roared, and his mouth glowed, suddenly from his open mouth came fire, the heat was immense and Celthair, Ciaran and the elders took shelter behind large stones set up near the edges of the platform.
After a few moments the stars beam of light quickly withdrew; Dray Goen stopped breathing out fire onto the black rock where the sword lay. All that was left was a white-hot sword, glowing bright and white.
“This sword is no longer Mac Roth; it must be renamed for it is reforged in dragon fire and the star of Riangbra. That honour lies with Dray Goen, the oldest among us.”
Dray Goen bowed his head, humbled by the honour. “The name will come. Grant me time,” he said.
The Elders nodded. The sword must not be used till it has a name. Use that name when Riangbra is invoked. You must use both elemental and the star to heal. You must memorise those words we spoke.
“I know them,” replied Celthair. “They were written on Salchah. My father made me memorise them. And I must pass them on to my children also.”
“Wise words!” said an elder. “They will bring you help at the hour of most need. We wish and send with you Riangbra’s blessing on you and your people, Celthair, daughter of Tuatha. Now…” the elder pointed at the sword, which was now shining brightly, no longer black. “Take the sword and do not allow anyone else to touch it. It is now cool enough.”
Celthair picked it up and it was cool to the touch, yet it still glowed as though white hot.
“Where is the scabbard?” asked Celthair.
“It was not worthy to carry the sword. Have a new one made, it will take on the sword’s qualities once it is inserted.”
Celthair picked up the sword, it was warm and light, no longer did it hum malevolently. Rather it sang as it struck the rock slightly. A happy sound that carried and continued for some time.
Dray Goen cocked his head listening to the sound thoughtfully.
“Sìth gheal,” he said suddenly on old tongue.
“White peace?” Said Celthair, translating it into the common tongue. “What is the meaning of that?” asked Celthair.
“The sword, when it rang out, it awoke memories of my younger days. Flashes of visions I saw when the world was young. It was peaceful then, no need for swords and weapons of war. The future I could see, frightened a young one like me, but then after those wars a feeling of peace and the visions would fade to white. This sword led my mind to these feelings of peace and the white future. From now on this sword will be called Sìth gheal.”
Celthair held up the newly named sword and it rang again. This time it glowed and as she looked writing appeared that had not been there before.
“It is a new prophecy, send by Riangbra,” said Dray Goen. “Do not read it yet. It will be revealed to you when to take the knowledge.”
Slowly the writing faded. The sword had joined Salchah as a sword of prophecy.
***
Far to the southeast, Tuatha sat on the throne of Athlethan. As a councillor droned on about policies, his mind wandered to his daughter.
After the news of her abduction, his trust in Riangbra had been severely tested. After gathering his army of Riangbra warriors, he had planned to go after her and raze the Black city to the ground once and for all. But Cathabad had reminded him that it was at her age, he had left home and travelled north.
When news arrived back, months later, he heard of her rise to power and could only hope that their parenting had been strong enough to teach her not to go the way of her grandfather.
Beside Tuatha, leaning against the throne, was Salchah, bane of Sennol.
He heard something strange. A ringing sound and from a gap in the top of the scabbard, bright light could be seen. He picked it up and pulled the blade out slightly. The blade was indeed ringing and shining.
The ringing sound was now loud enough to be heard by everyone in the court and they stopped to listen.
Tuatha drew the sword fully from the Scabbard and the sound was now so loud all other sound was drowned out. The brightness of the blade was such that no one could look at it for long.
Cathabad could hear it, and his head rose, his face shining with excitement. He ran as quickly as an old man could, to the throne room. It was a sound he had not heard for many years.
He arrived breathless and Tuatha looked at him questioningly, holding the sword out.
“Another sword has been forged by Leviathan fire and star light,” said Cathabad. “All we need now is the third and final sword to be revealed. White Eternity is closer than we realised.”
“There is a third sword?” asked Tuatha. “Has it already been made?”
“It was written in the Chronicles, and I have been studying this for many cycles, it was a very old text, buried and unread, but I found it. When Emain came through the vortex, he saw beings of light. They showed him a sword giving him prophecy that was unwritten and forgotten. He somehow believed it would be found one day in the far future.”
Tuatha looked at Cathabad, his eyes shining. “It has been found already,” he smiled, I was told not to say anything to anyone, but I feel the time is right.”
There was a moment of silence as Tuatha wrestled with the implications of telling Cathabad. But the moment seemed right.
“The sword is named Klau Solas.”
***
“We must leave now; we cannot waste time; we must get back to the people.” said Celthair. “First we will farewell the Anakim.”
Dray Goen flew them back to the palace where they said their goodbyes to their new and old friends.
With tears in everyone’s eyes and much cheering and waving, Dray Goen lifted off the ground with his four passengers and flew off to the south-west and over the Chalice Sea back to the Black city and her grandfather’s people.