The Iron Bound

by J. M. Briggs

  “What happened to it?” Alex questioned.

  “Oh, eventually it wore down. Not to mention it wasn’t very useful against the Sídhe so I began to lean much more towards magical combat. Eventually, it was melted down to recast.”

  “That makes sense I guess.” Alex felt an odd hint of sadness at the thought of the first sword that Merlin remembered so clearly. “Did you teach Arto to work with bronze or just iron?”

  “I did teach him bronze working,” Merlin said wistfully. “In the early days of him being in my care, we lived a quieter life. We lived in a small village in southern Wales, not too far from modern Glastonbury to be honest, for a few years and I served as a smith. I wanted to lay low and teach him slowly so that I could keep him safe. He was the first Iron Soul and back then I had no notion that he would be reborn.”

  “You thought he was it?” Alex pressed her lips together as something in her gut twisted uncomfortably. “I suppose that makes sense.”

  “If you wish to try again then I’ll allow it,” Merlin told her with a soft sigh, patting her shoulder gently. “Just be cautious Alex.”

  Nodding, Alex smiled a little but tensed up as she saw the others come around the house. She received a curious look from Bran as she stood up and walked back out to the empty patch of the yard. She unwound the bandage and shoved it into her pocket before reaching back to the dagger secured on her belt. The sturdy leather band keeping it secure flexed a little as Alex wrestled open the clasp and pulled the dagger free.

  Before she could change her mind about trying again, Alex began to slice into the wound on her hand to aggravate it. Then the sounds of something in the forest made her pause and she raised her eyes to look towards the trees. Above their heads, the sun was between a pair of billowing clouds. Nonetheless, she saw violet eyes peering out from the trees and gave a shout to warn the others.

  Sídhe descendants rushed out of the trees, their faces half-covered with hoods and several wearing thick sunglasses. The sight gave Alex pause, but blood was already trickling down the lines in her hand and dripping off her fingers. She gasped as her magic suddenly reacted, feeling as though something had reached up and began to pull it straight out of her chest. Around her, the blood on the ground began to flare bright red.

  Merlin’s hand on her shoulder helped steady her, and she breathed out slowly as she struggled to regain control. As the creatures lingered at the edge of Morgana’s yard and the blood magic flowed slowly around them Alex was too aware of just what Merlin had been warning her about. In the corner of her eyes, she saw columns of red magic flare up from the earth itself and grab the creatures. One turned to dust with an aborted scream and the ache of her magic grew.

  She only distantly heard the shouting of the others as they fought back. The air was shimmering and in the corner of her eye strands of magic were appearing. Alex tried to look at them as the threads spun around the Sídhe creatures, but she couldn’t hold her magic under control. There were screams, flashes of magic and a blood red glow all around them.

  Everything was hazy and her legs trembled beneath her, but Alex could see shimmering lines ahead of her amongst the dark shapes. They vanished in a burst of vibrant red magic from Aiden’s fireball that exploded over her vision as heat washed over her face. Closing her eyes, Alex dismissed the strands and pulled on her magic. She tried to coil it up in her chest and felt her body bending over as she inwardly curled around the spark. The tug of the earth beneath her feet lessened and she could breathe a little easier.

  Then everything quieted and there was another set of hands holding her shoulders. For a moment Alex felt like she was floating as the world just drifted away. Her eyes fell shut and her muscles uncoiled. At the last flicker of consciousness, Alex heard the clank of a chain and a soft voice asking what she had wrought.

  21

  An Old Soul

  115 C.E. Sør-Trøndelag, Norway

  Thor was unsure of what to think as the last of the dust settled and their odd company began trekking back down the mountainside. Merlin and Morgana had created small light orbs that floated at the front and back of the group. He glanced back towards the pile of rubble and the new high scar of the mountain several times before it became too dark to see. Above their heads, the stars were beginning to show themselves and Thor wondered if there were more of the creatures waiting for them in the darkness.

  “Are we returning to the village?” Thor asked, as loudly as he dared. “The dark elf is dead and the tunnel is closed.”

  “That won’t stop them forever,” Morgana said, looking around carefully.

  “It might,” Frea said. “It may not be worth the effort now that they have lost the tunnel. They are not easy to make, and as they can only go so far… at least according to the old stories.” She trailed off and looked between the mages and the Old Ones. “You don’t think so?”

  “The Sídhe are expansionists,” Odin said uneasily. “From my understanding, it is a part of their culture.”

  “You’d be right.” Morgana scowled with anger flashing in her eyes. “They believe that they are meant to rule the whole Tree of Reality.”

  “I see.” Frea adjusted her cloak and pulled up her hood. “I need to return to my people. My absence has been longer than I had planned.”

  Morgana gave her a sharp look but said nothing, which surprised Thor a little. He was unsure as to what sort of history Morgana had with the Sídhe, but it was clearly a haunting, ugly thing. Frea excused herself with a deep nod to Sif and Odin and a slightly more cautious nod to Morgana and Merlin. He watched the Sid woman hurry back into the forest with a hint of curiosity as to just where her hidden village was. Based on how Morgana was watching her, he was certain she was wondering the same thing. The stories of the Elves were diverse, and Thor was now unsure what was true and what was false.

  “I am uncertain of what the Sídhe’s next move will be,” Odin said. They watched Frea vanish from view and Odin sighed. “Yet preparation for an invasion force may be wise.”

  “The Sídhe that come through that tunnel are in no way an army.” Morgana’s lips twisted into a nasty little smile.

  “We don’t know what happens to them after time passes,” Merlin said, seemingly unbothered by her smile. “They may begin to regain their minds or become something even worse or more powerful. They have been exposed directly to the magic of the Iron Gates.”

  “Surely you and your Iron Soul are prepared for open combat by this point?” Odin made a pointed look his way. “He’s clearly a warrior and after so long-”

  “Memories and knowledge are not retained,” Merlin cut in quickly. He gave Odin a warning look. “And this is a matter for the mages of the Iron Realm, not for outsiders. No matter if they are our allies.”

  “Cyrridven is trusted by you,” Sif said. Her voice was calm and soft, alerting Thor to how much Odin and Merlin had already raised their voices. “We were born in your world and have loyalty to it.”

  “I do not wish to be ungrateful for your peace towards humans,” Merlin assured Sif in a rather forced but polite tone. “But Cyrridven stays in the water to hold off the side effects of living in this world. You and your people do not take such protections, and thus I am inclined to remember that you could become an enemy.”

  “A fair point Merlin,” Odin replied evenly. The ravens on his shoulders stiffened and Odin’s eyes darkened. “But we are your help in this matter. If the Iron Soul is indeed a new child with each rebirth, then while his power is useful, he is limited.”

  Thor fought to stay still but caught Sif’s eyes as they widened in realization and surprise. Gritting his teeth, Thor nearly demanded an explanation of Merlin and Morgana right there but fought his temper back. It was an effort that his father would have been proud of in other circumstances. There was a tense moment of silence until Odin nodded to him and extended his hand to Sif.

  “We will depart so that you may return to the human settlement,” Odin said. “May I send Huginn a
nd Muninn to fetch you in the future?”

  “Yes,” Merlin answered before Morgana could say anything. “That would be wise. I do not believe that this is over.”

  “And even if the Sídhe are dissuaded, there is still the matter of the creatures already in our- this world. It is difficult to anticipate if they will adjust as we have.”

  “Indeed.” Morgana raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. “Farewell, Odin. Farewell, Sif.”

  “Farewell, Mages of the Iron Realm,” Odin returned with a respectful nod.

  Thor waited for Sif and her father to vanish into the trees before he turned towards Merlin and Morgana. His expression must have betrayed his question because Merlin held up his hand to silence him.

  “Not here, Thor,” Merlin ordered wearily. “It is dark and we are in a forest that we know our enemies may lurk within.”

  “He’s right.” Morgana brightened the orb of light in her hand and nodded towards the path. “Let’s return to the village before anything more happens.”

  Before he could say anything or press on the subject of this Iron Soul, Merlin and Morgana started down the faint game trail towards the village. Thor stomped after them, glaring at their backs for the first few paces before his common sense won out and he quieted. As they came down the hill he caught glimpses of the low glow of fires in the village and occasional flashes of a torch between the trees.

  It took them far too long to reach the village, and thankfully the guard pulled the gate open for them. Thor lingered for a moment and eyed the wooden structure; wondering just how long it would truly hold up to a large group of the dark elves. He didn’t like the answer his mind came up with and he hurried after Merlin and Morgana.

  Following them towards the small hut, Thor glanced around and spotted his brother heading for them. He paused and waved his brother back, but offered his sibling a warm smile to reassure him. Arvid nodded in return to him and looked towards Merlin and Morgana with a question in his eyes. Shaking his head, Thor followed them inside and inwardly smiled, wondering when he’d suddenly become able to communicate with his brother without words. Perhaps it had always been there, a small voice in his head suggested.

  The thought almost made his smile, but Thor focused on Merlin’s back as he followed them into the hut. His chest was tightening with anticipation: it was almost the same as before a battle, and that realization made his heart speed up. The inside of the hut was chilled from their absence, but Morgana waved her hand towards the pile of dried wood in the fire pit. Silver magic flared and warm flames were suddenly licking at the logs and casting a glow through the small hut. Thor watched the fire catch properly for a moment before straightening up and turning to face Merlin.

  “What is the Iron Soul?” Thor asked calmly, facing the question head on with his chin tilted up. “I think it’s time that I understood what is happening.”

  “The Iron Soul is difficult to explain.” Merlin sank down onto the bench and tented his fingers with a soft sigh. He looked tired and for a moment Thor was tempted to let them delay the conversation, but only for a moment. “It is a creation of the magic and power of the Iron Realm, this world, itself. Our world is connected to many other worlds, many of them very different from the last. The Iron Soul exists to protect the Iron Realm, our world, from beings from other worlds. They have access to the spark of magic that is almost always present now.”

  “It’s the result of so many unnatural creatures living in our world,” Morgana said with a dark glance towards the door. “You need to understand, Thor that while some Old Ones are peaceful and even care to some extent about humans such as Odin does, the fact is that even those born in our world suffer from living in it.”

  “Add to that the descendants of the Sídhe warriors and the descendants of their escaped slaves, and there is always something in our world that does not belong,” Merlin continued. “The Iron Soul was born when these dangers began to grow due to the Sídhe invasions when I was young.”

  “Born from what?” Thor questioned. “Some sort of deity? Is it alive?”

  “Not as far as we know,” Merlin replied. He shrugged and didn’t look very concerned, much to Thor’s shock. “I suspect, due to the things I have seen, that there is some sort of consciousness behind it, but its exact nature eludes us. I would not, however, call it a deity. It has never made itself known to us.”

  “The Iron Soul is human,” Morgana said. “It is born in times in need and does battle with invaders to the Iron Realm.”

  “And I am this Iron Soul, born once again due to the threat of the dark elves?” Thor crossed his arms over his chest and breathed out thoughtfully.

  “Indeed,” Merlin said.

  Thor watched the two older mages for a long moment as he waited for them to say more. They were looking at him expectantly; clearly waiting for something. What, he wasn’t sure. Did they expect him to be shocked? He had power and had discovered it even before they came along.

  “I see,” he replied with a nod. “I suppose that makes sense.”

  “Is that it?” Morgana asked. “That’s all you have to say about it?”

  “It isn’t really surprising is it?” Thor shrugged, uncertain as to why the female mage was so aggravated.

  “He can’t be the reincarnation of Arto!” Morgana spun back to Merlin, her hands shaking with rage. “He can’t be Merlin! We must be wrong!”

  “And yet we are not.” Merlin ignored the irritated look that Thor knew must be on his own face. “He is not Arto and is, therefore… different.”

  Frowning, Thor decided he didn’t like the turn of the conservation. He narrowed his eyes at Morgana and when she swung back to look at him, glared outright at the female mage. She scoffed, clearly unimpressed with him and Thor tried to think of something clever to say. Nothing came and instead he gave in to his churning irritation.

  “You don’t have to like me, Morgana,” Thor said. “You don’t even need to stay if you don’t want to!”

  “Thor!” Merlin began to cut in, but Thor ignored him.

  “I am the Iron Soul; I’m not surprised by it. I’ve known that I was special for a long time.”

  “You are so arrogant,” Morgana all but growled. “You don’t know as much as you think Thor!”

  “Which is why we need to teach him!” Merlin jumped to his feet and gripped Morgana’s shoulders. “Calm down Morgana, you too Thor. You two need to learn how to work together. Today’s journey was just the start of this, I fear.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Thor asked with a frown, looking away from Morgana to meet Merlin’s gaze. “We destroyed the tunnel.”

  “What we said about the Sídhe’s militant nature before was very true,” Merlin assured him with a serious nod as he released Morgana and stepped around her. “I now know that the Iron Gates can be battled against. It will take a major defeat, far more than this, to dissuade whatever warlord is currently in charge.”

  Morgana’s shoulders slumped and her fingers tightened into fists, but she said nothing. Questions as to her history danced on the tip of his tongue, but Thor kept himself in check as Merlin gave him a warning look. As the older mage set a hand back on Morgana’s shoulder, this time to comfort, Thor began to feel like an intruder.

  “It’s late,” Merlin said. “And I for one brought down part of a mountain today and could use some rest.”

  Thor nodded quickly, a shiver going up his spine at the reminder of what this man had done just a short time ago. The notion that he might someday achieve that sort of power himself gave him a heady feeling.

  “Of course,” Thor forced out. “Good night Merlin, Morgana. Rest well. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  Merlin nodded to him, relief clear in the man’s brown eyes. Thor returned the nod as a lump began to form in his throat. Feeling a little too powerless, Thor turned and left the hut. The cool night air hit him and washed over his exposed skin, sending a shudder through him. Nonetheless, it was welcome and Thor turned
his eyes up towards the night sky as he moved away from the hut. Above his head, the stars were bright with only a sliver of the moon illuminating the sky.

  Breathing out slowly, Thor shook his shoulders and did his best to dismiss his irritation. There were things that he was clearly unaware of, but he couldn’t fixate on that. Still, it made him angry, as did Morgana’s reaction to him. Did she expect him to be this Arto? Shaking his head, Thor half-stomped away from the hut only to catch sight of a figure in a very familiar cloak lingering by the gate. Thor wondered why the gate was still open for only a moment before a flash of golden hair beneath the figure’s hood made his feet start moving. As he approached Thor felt his hands becoming a touch sweaty and swallowed thickly as the implications of that settled on his shoulders.

  “Sif,” he greeted. Glancing towards the guard, he found the man staring at him in alarm. “Welcome to my village.”