The Draoidh have a distinct feature that isn’t widely shared. Gold flecks appear within their eyes as their curiosity grows. Curiosity is at the heart of wisdom, and wisdom is the Draoidh’s greatest virtue.
~Dagda, the All-Father, Chief of the Gods
Crow activated his Ghost Steps, Ghostly Aura, and his Three-Headed Crow sight before jumping. All to ensure he didn’t die on the way down. He ignored the boat, too, because he felt the impact would probably kill him. The only chance was landing feet first and hoping Ghost Steps dispersed the kinetic energy.
Bloomp!
Ghost Steps helped part the water, and it slowed him down enough that the worst of the pain was in his feet, arms, the bottom of his butt cheeks—all the places that protruded from his body some. Yes, even the thing dangling between his legs wasn’t spared. His flesh hitting the water felt like being slapped by a giant.
Seconds after that, his legs slammed against the bottom of the pool, and his knees buckled. Crow’s momentum didn’t slow down as his head banged against his knees. Stars and blackness filled his head as he started to lose consciousness. Shaking his head, he tried to expel the darkness. Tried to push it back, and all the while, his lungs burned fiercely. Desperately needing the air that was forcibly expelled from him as he entered the water.
Crow’s hips, ankles, and knees were throbbing from the impact. It took all his willpower to shove upward from the ground and attempt to reach the surface. On second thought, he summoned the boat and grabbed on tightly. Before it could shoot upward, he wedged himself under the crossbar, fearing he might suffocate before rising to the surface.
He didn’t make it. The lungs burned, and he swallowed water before he blacked out. No, he died. It was a strange feeling, death. It was like the container for his soul was a crudely fashioned vessel, unworthy of the complexity of his very essence. It was something all cultivators realized at some point. Their bodies were weak, crude, broken, and dirty. Crow felt like his soul was a gemstone shoved into a pile of shit.
Soft lips pressed against his, which was an odd sensation when he wasn’t even in his body. Feeling what he did now, he wondered if most people died because they’d rather give up the fight than climb back into the skin suit only deserving of a base creature. Sighing in his heart, he felt the tug returning him to his body. It was possible to resist it but now was definitely not the time.
Waking up once again, he sat up and leaned over the side of the boat. Water spewed out of his throat in a grand torrent—his own personal waterfall. When he was finally breathing normally, he laid back down and felt Nin cuddling up to him, shivering.
“Never do that again, you idiot,” she growled low in her throat. Her voice filled with fear, anger, and sorrow. Unexpectedly, she bit his shoulder so hard that her teeth tore through his shirt, and blood seeped out of the wound. Crow didn’t cry out and could only hold her tighter to himself.
She was the strongest and wildest of his group, but she was by far the most sensitive—well, Song Xue might be close, but she wasn’t as expressive.
Crow was sure there was something more to Nin’s choice of a husband that affected her. He wanted to ask about it but never felt like it was the right time to question her. He didn’t want to pry, but he’d have to talk to her about it, eventually.
Thinking about what just happened, he never really felt at risk of dying from drowning. During his out-of-body experience, Crow knew he could have re-entered his body and forced the water out. It was why he put himself inside the boat. As long as Crow could reach the surface, then drowning was no real threat. It was just that he hadn’t had time to explain it all to Nin.
A cultivator could substitute mana for a lot of things, like food and water, if necessary. That also included air. But mana regeneration required the natural intake of those three things. It actually came back to the issue from before—his body was garbage. Eventually, his body would improve, and he could subsist on mana alone. For now, if he didn’t eat, drink, and breathe, his mana would eventually dwindle until he died. Real death. Deader than dead. Besides, it wasn’t safe to subsist off mana at this stage of his cultivation as it could severely damage his Source.
“Nin?”
“Hmm?”
“I won’t leave you behind.” Crow’s words were one of those instinctual things he trusted. Hearing her small gasp, he knew it was the right thing to say, which made him wonder how much her mother impacted her life. He couldn’t help draw correlations to his own.
Nin kissed his neck, cheek, chin, and finally his lips. Her tongue darted into his mouth, and she held his head so he couldn’t escape. It was just a kiss, but it was mind-blowing how much emotion she packed into it. Crow felt it physically and mentally—it shook his very soul.
His arms wrapped around her waist as he pressed his body against hers.
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“Mmm-hmm,” she moaned. Before they could go any further, a bolt of lightning struck her. “Aargh! Lily!”
Crow winced as Nin bit down on his lip when the lightning hit her. He could taste the coppery flavor of blood in his mouth and recalled the earlier incident with a similar outcome. This little Fae was getting more and more feisty.
“Lily?” He called out, but she gave him an indignant look and pointed over his shoulder. Turning, he forgot all about his lip. They were on a massive lake that disappeared over the horizon, and they’d already left the shoreline behind. In the center was the monolith rising toward the sky. The island surrounding it was distant enough that he couldn’t make out the details. Looking back toward the river they exited, he could see Daemons camped out close to the water.
Upon seeing prey, the Daemons clambered into their small canoes and tried to give chase. Crow moved to take his seat while Nin picked up the paddle to row them toward the monolith. As soon as any canoe came into range, he peppered them with arrows. It didn’t take long before he discouraged them enough to turn back to the shore. These were just generic-looking imps, which is why they put little resistance. There was a semblance between them and the Caorthans—Fire Spitters.
It was odd because the Fire Spitters wouldn’t have turned back. Only an inordinate amount of fear would prevent them from giving chase. Crow was sure those little beasties weren’t afraid of him. While thinking this, their boat lurched, and suddenly, they were moving through the water as if flying. Their speed was many times greater than the fastest speeds they reached going down the river. Nin’s paddle wasn’t even in the water anymore.
“What…?” Nin asked, and Crow looked over the side of their boat. The water was semi-clear to a certain depth, so all he could make out was a tentacle that had latched on to them. That appendage disappeared into the depths. He couldn’t make out the attached creature, but it was definitely hauling them along. Crow just hoped it was taking them toward the island on purpose and not because it lived nearby.
Not even an hour later, it released them. Crow and Nin hurriedly paddled the rest of the way to the shore, both thinking that if they became its prey, there was no avoiding death. The moment their feet were on land, he took away the boat and climbed up the steep sandy bluff to escape the shore and the reach of that massive beast.
Once they climbed up, he stopped. His feet came down onto a smooth, wide road, but brush and weeds overgrew it. From a distance, he saw the plants but overlooked other structures beyond the monolith. However, hidden among the trees—more Fireheart Oaks, old stone buildings could now be seen. Most didn’t have roofs and were long abandoned. Everywhere he looked, he could make out broken stone bricks showing almost the entire island was once paved with these cobbled stones.
There wasn’t any exploration necessary as he could see the road they were on cut directly through it all and directly approached the monolith. Crow’s curiosity was too high, so he explored buildings and side streets when he found them. There was nothing much left of whatever civilization once lived here. Still, he had to admit that the building design, cut of stones, and impressive craftsmanship were a notch above most current cities he’d seen. Oiche aside, since it had an exceptional quality as it was primarily crafted from Mugna’s roots.
It was almost sunset by the time they reached the final plaza surrounding the monolith. The area was clear of debris and plants, but a woman stood there with her back to him. Her finger dipped into a working fountain and swirled the water around. It was a scene that he’d never expected to see when he approached this place.
Inexplicably, Crow was drawn to her. An invisible force bound them, and he stumbled forward, refusing to take his eyes off her. Hearing his shambling steps, she slowly turned, and he could see her ageless beauty. It was hard to describe, but there was an ancientness to her that could not be dismissed even if she looked as young as he did.
The woman held a staff at least three meters in length. The top of it looked like the roots of a tree as the claw-like end grasped a pulsing green crystal. It radiated health, vitality, and life. Just basking in its glow stripped away all of Crow’s pains, exhaustion, and worries.
Emerald-green hair, like vibrant grass, swayed against her back like a satin curtain. A few braided strands wrapped around her head like a crown, and woven into her crown were more of those pulsing green crystals. If he didn’t know for a fact that it was her hair, he’d have thought it really was a crown or tiara.
Her golden eyes filled him with the warmth of the sun during Alban Eilir–Spring Equinox.
She wore a white robe that exposed a lot of flesh around her shoulders and the top of her breasts. The gossamer fabric hugged her chest tightly, but past the golden rope that cinched around her waist, the robe flowed like pure snow. From the bottom hem of the robe, he could see a pale foot sticking out, which was unadorned. Her bare feet pressed against the dark soil as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
While the two observed each other in silence, Nin and Lily held back. They both recognized the solemnity of the moment. At that moment, the three-headed Sluagh appeared and landed on top of the woman’s staff. Its heads turned to watch everyone all at once.
Caw-caw-caw.
Crow recognized its mirth. The woman turned to look at the Sluagh, and the way her head tilted, Crow was sure the two were communicating. Time seemed to hesitate until she finally turned her head to reassess Crow.
A few steps put her within an arm’s length of Crow, and she stared deeply into his gold-flecked irises with curiosity. Her warm smile was so bright and wonderful that he responded with a smile of his own. It was like within his eyes, all his secrets were laid bare, and he was the first to avert his eyes.
Her hand reached out and caressed Crow’s cheek before her fingers slid under his chin and lifted his head, so they once more locked eyes. He didn’t resist because there was no ill intent in her gesture. It shocked him because it was something his mother did to him on more than one occasion.
“You are a curious child. So much resolve and angst. So much love and hate. Even if you are selfish with women, you treat each with care and tenderness.”
Crow coughed and felt heat rising off his face.
“M-may I know who you are?” Crow had not stuttered like that in ages and knew a simple fact. This woman was beyond powerful. With a breath, he knew this woman could erase his existence. Who cares about the secrets in his soul when he was an insect under the scrutiny of a god?
“I believe you know who I am, do you not?” She giggled and tousled his hair.
“You are Danann?” Crow asked, and she winked at him mischievously.