Day 16 of Midwinter, Nightfall

Uisneach, Tech Duinn

Annwn

The Bánánach came in fast and straight for me. I instinctually focused on the forge in front of me and all that wonderfully hot lava running beneath it. Using my Control Energy boon, I rapidly raised the temperature of the lava around me, causing a great explosion from the forge as the Bánánach passed overhead.

A shrill, multi-octave cry that reminded me of The Exorcist movie came from the specters that had been blasted by the heat and rock. Huh, I thought. Fíadan had said that the most effective weapon against them was cold iron, but the molten rock seemed to be at least weakening them. Maybe it was the extreme heat, I wondered. They did seem to flourish more in cold environments.

I didn’t even try to count the shrieking Bánánach as I ducked out of the way of the spray of lava, swinging the shillelagh. I felt the possessed staff score hits on several targets as I swung, but it was impossible to tell how much damage I was doing. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ Novᴇl_Fire(.)net

Something grabbed the shillelagh and began trying to pull it from my grasp. Ice-cold claws raked across my side, and I heard the bearded man behind me cry out in pain. This was getting out of hand quickly. I needed to find another way to hurt these creatures.

Despite my enhanced strength, the shillelagh was wrenched from my hands. It sailed across the room to fall, ignored, to the floor. Glowing amber eyes swirled around me. If I had done anything to impact their number or potency, it didn’t show. Even worse, I had lost my weapon.

Rapidly thinking through my boons, I considered my options. I didn’t have long to contemplate how the magic-rich environment might impact my energy magic…not that I ever did much contemplation before acting. I thought back to the success I had had against the fachan with my creative energy barrier. I was pretty sure I could outdo myself.

I focused on the overabundant weave energy swirling around me, much like the accursed specters, and worked to turn the magic itself solid. Great, sharp crystals of magical energy coalesced from thin air in wide arcs around me, imprisoning nearly all the Bánánach within the unmoving magical shards. The high-pitched wailing grew in volume as the spirits tore huge rents into themselves in their attempts to escape.

“Who are you…” The man behind me gasped before I heard the thunk of him collapsing. Great, now I was going to have to carry him out of here.

I forced myself back to my more immediate problem. Luckily, my control energy boon seemed to take almost no effort in this space. Unluckily, though the creatures were mostly trapped, a few looked like they could escape at any moment. Modifying the magic of my boon slightly, I increased the size and jaggedness of the crystals. The wails suddenly cut off as the amber eyes blinked out of existence. The room fell silent.

“That wasn’t too bad,” I said aloud, then cringed, looking around as if something might jump out at me. Nothing did. But now that the battle was over and my adrenaline began trickling away, I could feel the slashes on my left side. They were oozing blood and…whatever that white stuff was. I stepped over to retrieve the shillelagh, which had landed in one of the large urns.

As soon as I touched the weapon, I received a strange notification.

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Your domain classification, Battlesmith, allows you the ability to modify this weapon with little or no equipment. This blade is a lustrum allow shillelagh. Would you like to REPAIR or SHARPEN this weapon?

I mentally dismissed the notification, but was surprised to immediately receive a second one.

The water of Uisneach has unlocked an additional option. Would you like to unbind this weapon?

I paused. “Unbind?” Afraid of what that might mean, I dismissed the notification and fully pulled the hammer end of the shillelagh out of the liquid in the urn.

I wasted no time in finding the keys to the cage and removing the bearded man from his confines. His skin was badly lacerated by the claws of the Bánánach, and beneath the new wounds were too many scars to count. How long had they been keeping him here? And had they intentionally kept him alive? If so, that would present a new aspect of the Bánánach that I hadn’t expected. Was it possible they were sapient, rather than the mindless killers I had assumed they were?

With that frightening thought, I placed an energy barrier over the passageway leading out to the weird pool area, which, according to my boon, was called Uisneach. I paused long enough to appraise the still unconscious god.

Name: Goibhniu Deoghabha

Race: Tuatha Dé Danann

Current Power Rank - Level 70

Current Progression Status:

Physical Progression +90

Mental Progression +79

Spiritual Progression +82

Domain: Smiths

That confirmed my suspicions. The badly injured man was indeed Goibhniu, Lir’s missing brother. But I wasn’t sure he would be able to make the trip back to Tir fo Thuinn in his present condition, and I had no healing magic or súg. I did, however, have a slightly unorthodox idea. Surprise.

As an energy manipulating extraordinaire, I was lucky enough to be able to enter a trance like that of the fairies. And though I hadn’t quite mastered it, I had managed to plug myself into the flow of magical energy such that I would be able to restore both my health and my endurance. It was an essential skill for me now, given that the boogeyman guarded the entrance to actual sleep.

Over the next few hours, I experimented with the trance and the flow of energy. In the past, I had manipulated my place within the trance, not the actual flow of energy itself. I was now wondering if I could somehow plug the smith into that same flow and heal his body. This would be the first time I attempted to jimmy rig a trance, not just for myself, but for someone else.

That was the hardest part, actually. Attempting to manipulate Goibhniu’s energy without his help or consent proved problematic. Even so, the room was so saturated with energy that I had some mild success. Opening my eyes, I saw the smith god staring back at me, his new wounds already scabbing over.

“I don’t know who you are,” he began, attempting to sit up. “But I have never seen anyone manipulate the weave like that. Not even The Dagda.”

“I’m Bren,” I said, knowing that wasn’t going to mean much, if anything, to the god. “Your brother Lir sent me to find you. There’s a war brewing between your brother and my brother.”

He looked confused.

I continued, “My brother is Cai Maccán…and that makes me another child of the Cold Moon.”

Lir considered what I had said. “That doesn’t explain why you are doing Lir’s errand.”

“Truthfully?” I asked. “We’re looking for allies.”

He scoffed. “And you think I would align myself with the Fomorians over my own brother?”

“I don’t know what you are going to do,” I responded with a shrug. “I didn’t even know you existed two weeks ago. But I do know that your brother killed Bres with one of the Treasures and is keeping Brigid as his prisoner in Hightower.”

His eyes narrowed, though I noted a lack of surprise. That was…telling.

“I have sensed a change in my brother,” the smith god began. “That is why I have braved the dangers of the mountain once again.”

“To find Duinnite?” I asked.

The smith nodded. “The realm needs more Silverwhite protectors.” So, he DID see how messed up everything had become!

“Can I help you?” I leaned forward. “Can you teach me to make Silverwhite weapons?”

He looked at me like I was crazy.

“And while we are at it,” I added, holding up my shillelagh. “Any chance you can explain what ‘unbinding’ means?”