Understanding the Yeti took some effort on my part. They had the ability to change the coloring of every follicle of their fur, and they used that ability in tandem with variances in temperature to communicate. Flashes of words in logographic form flickered across their face and chest. You didn’t so much speak with one of them as read what they were saying.

Without my ability to use illusion, and my connection to Cyronax, I would never have been able to establish a dialog. It took more than a day for me to finally understand their language well enough that we weren’t essentially grunting at each other. And that was only possible because of my high [Intelligence] stat.

“We few,” their Elder informed me, “we move here.

“Hide.

“Plant snow blossom.

“Cold protect. Enemies no come.

“You enemy? We fight?”

I’m not sure why I read his words in such a stilted manner. Perhaps it was the grunts and whistles that accompanied each change in logogram. The Yeti reminded me of giant apes, large white woolly bipeds that used rudimentary tools, hominids that had evolved to meet the challenges of deepest winter. I was ascribing tonal qualities to the words that were flashing across his face and chest that didn’t exist.

The Yeti weren’t caricatures of animals that frolicked with Tarzan, and I needed to stop acting as if they were barely sentient and some type of wild beast. I decided the best thing to do was treat them like another species of Sidhe. The Ettin Sidhe were just as crude in their methods of communication, but they still formed family units, served when called, and were fierce combatants that could be used in our war against humans.

“No esteemed Elder. The Sidhe have no intention to fight or declare war. Instead, we would offer you a place at our home. We would make you Sidhe, allow you to join us, and we would protect and fight for each other when the need arises,” I offered.

“How?” The Elder wondered. “How make Yeti, Sidhe?”

“In the simplest terms, I will conduct a ritual offering to the Tuatha de Danann, the Gods of our people. Specifically, a sacrifice of blood gaining Danu’s blessing, and Cyronax’s generosity,” I answered, the illusions I cast so that he could understand flickering into an out of existence at a comfortable speed for him to understand.

“Danu is the Earth Goddess. The fields, the rivers, the mountains, the forests, everything that is, is because she wills it so. Cyronax is the God of Winter, the [Power] that controls raging blizzards, falling snows, and deepest cold.

“I am a child of Danu and Cyronax. I have spoken with them before, and I would use the connection that exists between them to bring you and your people to their attention. You would gain their blessing and become Sidhe, and we would become brothers and sisters, united against the tides of humanity that seek to destroy us both.”

I had plenty of time to consider how to deal with the Yeti as I learned their language. The offer I was making was similar to what occurred when Changelings were created, just on a more expansive level. I hoped to expand on that ritual to include the entire race.

“What do the Yeti need to do?” The Elder asked.

Now that I had stopped ascribing bestial intelligence and rudimentary communication abilities to the Yeti, it was much easier to have a conversation where nuance and inflection were added to the elementary vocabulary. The context was fleshed out and given meaning.

“I would need the Elder and a mated pair of Yeti to participate in a ritual. All the Yeti would be welcome inside the Sithern and can watch as I make an offering, a sacrifice of blood and sex between the mated pair to gain the attention of the Sidhe Gods,” I answered.

“You would breed and kill the pair of mated Yeti?” The Elder asked in disbelief.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“No, of course not,” I assured him. “The blood sacrifice would be a shallow cut on each of our hands, a small offering from each person. The sexual offering would take place between the mated pair. The Sidhe are creatures of nature. Blood and sex to make the crops grow are as close to an explanation of who we are as anything.

“You might want to select a mated pair that want to have children. Danu will bless this pair if she accepts them with the gift of fertility.”

“If all mated pairs took part in this offering, would all of them be blessed with children?” The Elder asked.

“Not all,” I admitted, “but every Yeti participating will be gifted with the boon of fertility. That will last the entire reproductive life of each Yeti, and one thing to note about that. As Sidhe, the Yeti will gain the gift of immortality. They can be killed, but they will not age, they will not fall victim to disease, and their bodies will not wear out.”

The Tuatha de Danann didn’t offer this transformative gift so widely, often. The last time had been when the Sea Hag had adopted the Selkie as hers and kindled the gift of immortality in each of her children, making them a part of Sidhe. It was an action not to be taken lightly, and I was only considering it because that voice of foreknowledge that I experienced periodically was guiding my actions.

Finding the Yeti in this location, a location selected because I had been guided here by my meager talents with prophecy, led me to believe that it was not only the location that was important but also the Yeti that I was meant to find.

I wasn’t surprised to find the Elder easily convinced his entire tribe to enter the Sidhe and participate. The Yeti were nearing extinction, the thousand or so people that I had discovered the only surviving members of a once-thriving people.

I wasn’t sure what had caused their numbers to dwindle, but some of it could be ascribed to humans. The local aborigines were hunter-gatherers; without access to iron or even metal weapons, they used bone and wood for hunting. They had a respect and reverence towards nature that should never have allowed them to hunt the Yeti to extinction, but something had happened.

The Yeti followed me once their decision was made. The Sithern opened and remained open as each individual filed in. Breith responded to my need, tunnels, and passages rearranging so that I found a glen that would work to host the ritual I was about to perform.

Part sacrifice, part plea. I would invoke the Tuatha de Danann in a place of ice and snow.

Grabbing some of the rarer metal and wood I had stored in my [Ring of Hidden Depths] and some Silinium I always kept on hand, I began creating a gazebo and statue that would serve as an altar, and eventually a temple.

I scattered various seeds, different types of vines, flowers, and berries, making sure to saturate the ground surrounding the gazebo. Once finished, I began sculpting an offering bowl, a sacrificial chalice that would collect the blood offering I would need to gain the Gods’ attention.

I handed the Elder a sacrificial blade crafted from Silinium and Obsidian. A knife of the darkest night that cut easily and absorbed the smallest fragment of blood from each Yeti. I would gift the blade to the Elder when the ceremony was completed. A blessed item that they could use every solstice and equinox to affirm their devotion to the Tuatha de Danann.

I had felt the Sithern watching my actions intently. And as the ceremony continued, it began to aid in transforming the glen I had chosen into something more. The seeds I had scattered were filled with life, spewing forth in cascading waves of color as green stalks grew, buds formed, and flowers bloomed.

Vines and bushes sprouted fruit as the plant matured. Each fruit reaching the peak of perfection. That moment when the berries were the ripest. When the sweetness of summer’s kiss was the most satisfying.

The heady aroma of fruit and flower was joined by the sound of cascading water, as the Sithern allowed a fountain to form and life-giving water to bubble up from some deep aquifer. Water of such purity that it could heal as well as slake any thirst.

The Elder returned the knife and a bowl heavy with blood. Filling the sacrificial chalice and then adding my blood to the mix, the blood offering was complete. I sacrificed more Silinium and Mithral and began heating the metal until it softened, molding the pooling alloy. Once I was satisfied, I began transforming the shapeless mass into a series of statues that represented Danu, Beleros, and Cyronax.

I had created something similar to this before, but this time I added more. Danu was mother to all Sidhe. Beleros and Cyronax were part of my bloodline, the Father’s that had given me and mine life. But I wanted more this time.

And so, I added Arianrhod, Goddess of fertility, rebirth, and fate. The Corona Borealis was Hers. Her domain, a physical manifestation that was as much a part of the north as snow and ice.

I had selected Her aspect to create a sympathetic connection between the Yeti and the Sidhe. They would be reborn, their fate forever changed. They would become Sidhe, and Arianrhod would stand as their totem, their touchstone between the world that was and the world that is.

With Cyronax and Arianrhod as their patron Gods, they would find their niche within the diverse races of our people. There would be a place at the table for these Yeti and their progeny. Danu would Bless it, and the rest of the Tuatha de Danann would acknowledge it.