Day 18 of Midwinter, Sunrise

Mag Mór, Tir Tairngire

Annwn

Though Cai’s army had been surprised to see some of the Tuatha in Tir fo Thuinn on our way to Mag Mór, I noticed relief on many of their faces as they realized they weren’t in this war alone. It gave me hope.

We stepped out onto the Great Plain to find thousands of soldiers under the different banners of Annwn. Nuada himself led the Falias contingent but was accompanied by a hippie-looking man with a long beard. Lir told me this was Dian Cecht, the healing god. The blue banners of Murias were led by Ogma, another of Nuada’s brothers. Findrias was helmed by Nemain and Badb, and Gorias by Macha and The Dagda.

I had been assured by Lir that Nuada would call for a parlay when he saw that Lir and Goibhniu had sided with the Fomorians, but even so, I felt sick to my stomach at the sight of the armies gathering. Was I really about to go into battle against the very man who had sent for me to stop all of this nonsense?

I estimated each army to have roughly 500 soldiers, with the exception of Falias. The capital had mustered twice as many soldiers as the others, bringing the number of enemy combatants to more like 2,500.

We, on the other hand, had only 1,000. Cai had seemed unconcerned, remarking offhandedly that any Fomorian was worth two of Nuada’s best. But I had noticed that not all of the Fomorian soldiers were the enormous, muscle-bound type I had expected. Many appeared to be the adopted siblings and spouses of natural-born Fomorians.

I cringed. The armies of the great cities had armor and magic. They had the Tuatha and the Ellyllon. They had Nemain’s fiacha. I was afraid we were walking into a bloodbath, and I could feel myself outwardly exuding my dwindling confidence.

Goibhniu stood to my right and Cai to my left on the front line of our army. Between us stretched the barren Great Plain. The smith patted me on the shoulder in a reassuring manner. His tone was light when he murmured, “At least you have your Silverwhite stick.”

He was teasing me, of course, talking about the underwhelming Yang Stick I had constructed in the volcano. I forced a smile, then tried my best to look strong and confident like my suddenly weirdly huge brother. Cai intensely studied the ranks of the other armies, occasionally turning to whisper something to the tall women that he now stood eye to eye with.

Lir and Manny approached, each holding the reins of a horse. Lir had Gaoth, and Manny had a coal black horse that I didn’t recognize.

“Aonbharr and Gaoth are long-standing friends,” Lir said at my questioning look.

“More like sibling rivals,” Manny smirked. “It seems old Gaoth here won’t let Father ride him. Surprise, surprise.”

Gaoth pranced with his front legs excitedly as Lir handed me the reins. “I want you to know,” he said, looking over at his brother’s grand army. “I haven’t forgotten my promise. The strength of the sea is yours when you need it.”

I nodded. I had found Goibhniu, but I now struggled with phase two of my own plan for using the might of the great Wells against the king. Looking over the soldiers ready to kill their own kin, I wondered if I had the stomach to put even more people at risk.

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Before I could come to a decision, however, a great horn sounded, and to our left I saw a cloud of dust and pollen on the horizon. From within the cloud, I began to see a new army slowly coming into view. Shocked, I turned to my brother.

Cai was smiling, and I realized he had likely seen much of what was about to transpire in the Blaze Diviner before he had left the Deep Realm. “The fianna have come,” he announced, his deep voice rolling across the Fomorian ranks. At his confirmation that the arrivals were friends, rather than foes, the soldiers calmed.

“Is that Ruadan?” Manny called out, looking in the direction of the approaching fianna.

“And another 300 men,” Cai said. “Hmm…it appears he has also rallied the fae with the fianna.”

Moments passed as both gathered armies watched the newcomers approach. Soon, it became clear that Ruadan and a second man were leading their men to side with ours. A cheer went up from the Fomorian ranks, growing in volume as the entirety of our armies joined in.

Ruadan thundered up, pulling his horse to a stop immediately in front of us. He winked at me, looking like his usual mischievous self. His companion, a man with a dark, prominent birthmark on his forehead, was more serious. Roo tipped his head to the man at his side. “Diarmuid, son of Aengus Og.”

Introductions apparently over, Roo swung to dismount before our army. “It's been too long, Runt.” I dropped the reins and wrapped him in a hug. He grunted. “But not that long.” He motioned back over his shoulders to a pair that were making their way through the crowd of changelings and fae. “A couple of my traveling companions have been asking about you.”

I caught a breath as Roy and Keely, the adopted púca parents of Jamie, whom I met on the Long Trail in Vermont all those days ago, soundlessly squished me into a tight embrace. There were no words between us; they simply made me into a Bren sandwich. But I didn’t mind. I returned the affection.

Diarmuid’s voice boomed behind me, breaking up the reunion. “So this is Bold Bren the Bare! Somehow, I expected more.”

“We all did,” Ruadan snarked. “But don’t let looks deceive you, he’s almost as slippery as I am.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.” Diarmuid smiled and clasped my arm before turning away to speak quietly with Manny and Lir. In a rush of words, Roy and Keely proceeded to tell me that they and many other fae who had fled to Ériu had heard about an uprising and come to pledge themselves to the cause. Jamie, the boy I had rescued from the Bodach, had not joined them at the front lines. He was safe with the rest of their extended púca family somewhere in New Hampshire.

As our army swelled in number and tried to reorganize itself, another horn sounded from across the plain. Representatives from the opposing army began to approach on their horses.

“The parlay has begun,” Lir said, nodding to me.

Saying goodbye to my friends, I found Gaoth and climbed up. We would follow Lir and whoever else would go out to face the king. An old power rank notification caught my attention as we began our trot out to meet the opposing leaders, and I finally let The Dagda’s voice fill my head with my newfound level and boons.

Name: Bren Búachaill

Race: Síorláidir

Current Power Rank - Level 14

Current Progression Status:

Physical Progression +50

Mental Progression +51

Spiritual Progression +56

Domain: Chaos

Domain Classification: Battlesmith (Enhanced)

You have been gifted with the following boons:

Control Energy

Erratic Agility

Dark Vision

Pain Sponge

Spiritual Augur

Battlefield Forge

Imbas Forosnai

Swell the Weave

Trance Healer

You have one blood-borne curse:

Mark of the Bodach (Permanent)

Innate Racial Abilities:

Rapid Regeneration

Advanced Identification

Magic Sense

Two magic items are in your possession.

You have acquired:

Seolán Neimhe

Yang Stick of Growth

Item abilities unlocked:

The Storm God’s Reservoir- Seolán Neimhe (inactive)

Engorgement (Yang Stick of Growth)