by Mary Morgan
Conn halted. “That’s absurd!”
“Aye, I ken, but ye have to consider that ye have not returned, if only for a year. These are your people, too.”
Ignoring his Fae brother, Conn continued to make his way down the hill. How dare they whisper behind his back—a great Fenian Warrior. Did he not do everything that was required of him? Repeatedly, he had walked into battles, rescuing those in need. Steering a course of a human life when needed. He clenched his jaw as he strode more quickly.
Conn could hear Ronan shouting, but he gave no care. His Fae blood boiled. I will show them all!
In a brilliant flash, Conn appeared in his chambers within the crystal palace. Stumbling forward, he landed against his writing desk.
“Shit!” he bellowed. Twisting around, he lunged at Ronan. However, the warrior vanished and reappeared on the other side of the chamber.
Ronan’s eyes flashed, and he held a hand up in warning. “I will not fight ye, my brother.”
Breathing heavily, his hands shook. Great Goddess, what was wrong with him? Anger surfaced so quickly, it blinded him. When he had regained his composure, he asked, “Did it not occur to you that I wanted to walk back?”
The Fae angled his head. “Seriously? Do ye ken how long it would take?”
Conn’s mouth twitched in humor. “Months?”
“Aye.” Ronan chuckled. He waved a hand in the air. “The council has not stripped your chambers of magic. Therefore, ye can move around freely and do what ye must to appear presentable.”
“How kind,” he replied dryly, glancing around.
“Ye will find food and drink on your terrace. I will return for ye in one hour.”
Conn was tempted to ask if the hour was human or Fae. “Thank you.”
Ronan smiled and vanished.
Rubbing a hand over his chin, Conn slowly made his way into his private bathing area, which consisted of a huge garden. A waterfall cascaded down into a pool surrounded by lush foliage. Smells of lavender, honeysuckle, and roses drifted by him. Hummingbirds flitted about, their presence soothing. He had forgotten how peaceful the Fae realm could be, especially his own chambers.
Uncertainty had become his companion in the Room of Reflection, slithering inside him and draining him all those months. The stench of the human world cloaked him, and he shook his head in frustration. Perhaps Ronan was correct. He had stayed away far too long from his own people, albeit his own decision.
But why had he? A question without an answer.
Stripping free of his torn tunic and pants, he descended down to the pool. Diving in, the warmth of the water seeped through his tired bones and flesh, cleansing the grime from a battle fought many moons ago. Taking his time, he stroked lazily to the other side, enjoying the caress of the water on his skin.
When he reached the other side, he climbed on top of a polished boulder to warm himself in the sunlight. Crossing his legs under him, he glanced around and closed his eyes. Inhaling deeply, he held his breath and then let it out slowly. Releasing all thought, Conn allowed his body to drift—becoming one with the realm once again. The rich earthiness of the land filled him, and he took what she had to offer. As his body and mind adjusted to the Fae realm, he absorbed the power, but only taking what he required in his healing.
“No matter your path, you are a Fenian Warrior. You are Fae. You are of my blood—far more ancient than the land you sit upon. A new day dawns within you. Though you may not be human, they are to be respected, as well.”
With one last shuddering breath, Conn slowly opened his eyes. The trees swayed back and forth, easing all tension from his spirit. “Thank you, Mother Danu.”
Slipping back into the water, Conn made his way back to his home. Quickly drying his body with a wave of his hand, he reached for an apple on the table and took a bite. The tartness of the fruit exploded in his mouth, and he let out a moan. Food in the Fae realm was sweeter—another fact he had forgotten in the human world. He wiped away the juices and stepped inside his chambers.
Entering his inner chamber, a haven just for him, he strode over to his giant armoire. Conn traced his fingers over the Celtic spirals etched in maple wood. He had worked tirelessly for months trying to fathom why the humans were fascinated with carving. Soon, he’d found pleasure in creating pieces from any type of wood. However, he would only take from the dying trees and never a living one.
Opening one of the doors, he pulled forth his royal tunic and pants. Quickly dressing, he wandered around the rooms, touching a book or admiring a quartz crystal, until he found himself back on the terrace. Tying his hair back with a leather thong, he opted not to wear shoes. He wanted to absorb as much as he could from his homeland. Lifting the pitcher, he poured some water into a goblet. Sipping the cool liquid, he stood and gazed outward. He filled his mind with every detail, as if fearing he would never return to this place.
Sensing the return of Ronan, he opened the door to his chambers with a single thought.
“Are ye ready?” asked the Fenian Warrior.
Smiling, Conn picked up another apple and stuffed it into his pants. “Yes.”
As he made his way out of the chambers, he glanced over his shoulder one last time. “I don’t think I’ll be returning,” he stated quietly.
“Ye are spouting nonsense. The Fae council will most likely suspend your powers for a thousand years, and ye will remain in the realm to oversee training of new Fenian Warriors.”
Conn blinked and looked at the Fae incredulously. “Considering what has transpired, they will not be asking me to train anyone, for fear I would taint them.”
Ronan placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “I shall always be with ye, brother.”
“I walk this road alone, my friend.”
They proceeded to make their way along the corridors of the castle. Quietness settled within Conn as he passed along the many rooms and passageways leading to other areas of the great castle. Too quickly, they approached the hall of the Fae council.
Pausing before the closed doors, Conn turned to his friend. “Have you any news regarding Liam and Rory?”
A frown marred Ronan’s features. “None.”
Conn snorted. “I suppose my sins are far worse.”
The warrior crossed his arms over his chest. “Ye assume—”
“No. I merely state what I already know. It is a path I have chosen. Right or wrong, I shall own the choices. But know this, my friend. Those who seek to condemn me, have yet to venture far from this realm.”
Giving his friend a reassuring smile, Conn turned and strode inside the chambers of the Fae council to meet his fate.
Chapter Two
“When truths are revealed, you must bear the burden of the words.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
Conn stared into the faces of the nine council members. Clasping his hands behind his back, he waited to be called forth. Before his powers were stripped, they would have acknowledged him within his thoughts. However, he now stood waiting for them to summon him forward by spoken words.
In addition, they deemed to make him wait even more as the golden leaflets with information passed from one member to the next in silence.
He had never stood before the council, and his view of the members had only been in passing. These Fae were chosen at a young age to learn the wisdom and laws of their people. Their training was lengthy, lasting decades. Their knowledge also consisted of learning all laws relating to the Fenian Warriors. Only when they had been deemed worthy, and passed numerous tests, would they become one of the nine who would serve for the next ten thousand years. Or until death claimed them first.
The room was unknown to Conn. He had never required their guidance. It was a place where other Fae sought out advice, wisdom, and at times, judgments. Thick, green ivy covered a long wooden table and wrapped around the legs, the only color in the stark room. The Fae realm was full of many colors, but this place held none. Even the floor was one of gray stone.
He glanced at the white walls and angled his head upward. Even the circular ceiling held no light from the outside. Letting his gaze settle once again on the members, he tried to process what form of defense he would be able to present. How could those who had never ventured far from the realm understand what he had done? They had never encountered the evil druid, Lachlan—a force only he and his other two brothers helped to destroy.
They will not be able to comprehend, so you are doomed. Conn almost barked out in laughter, so ridiculous to think they could, but instead, he smiled, and continued to wait.
Slowly, a female council member stood. “I am known as Seneca. You may come forward to the truth stone, Conn MacRoich.”
As he made his way toward the council, Conn glanced down at the massive polished quartz embedded within the stones. He paused. “And may I ask what I’m about to step onto?”
“Since we are unable to read your thoughts, we have only the words you speak here today. The truth stone will ensure that you give us the most accurate account of your transgression.”
Conn’s fury rose as all humor fled. “Might I remind you, the Fae have stripped my powers. Therefore, if you can’t read my thoughts or trust my words, this is your problem. Not mine.”
Seneca arched a brow. “Might I remind you, Conn MacRoich that you are on trial.”
“I am a Fenian Warrior, bound by honor, here in this room to divulge all truths.”
“All?” another questioned. The Fae rose. “I am known as Tulare.” He waved a golden leaflet into the air. “Are you ready to start at the beginning of your misdeeds?”
Resentment and frustration clawed inside Conn. “If the Fae council deems it’s necessary to pick apart the life of one of their oldest warriors, so be it.”
“Are you a fool to not realize what you have done?” Tulare spat out.
Confused, Conn replied, “I am fully aware of what I have done. Fae and human realms are at peace. Evil has been destroyed.”
Tulare started to utter a retort, but Seneca held up her hand. “Enough.” Turning her gaze to Conn, she said, “Do you refuse to stand on the truth stone, Conn MacRoich?”
He took a step back. “Yes. I have given my vow as a Fenian Warrior to speak truthfully.” He gestured to the stone with his hand. “If my word as a Fae is not good enough, then sentence me now.”
“Let him give his account without the use of the truth stone,” replied a voice within the shadows of the room.
Conn narrowed his eyes. He knew that voice.
“It has never been done,” argued Tulare.
“Do you challenge my decision?”
Hushed silence descended in the room.
The Fae appeared forth from the shadows. “You have not answered my question. Does the Fae council challenge or object to my decision?”
“No,” stated Seneca.
“If you are all in agreement, you must state your voice in front of the accused. As one.”
Each member stated their affirmation of approval, though some murmured the word in disgust.
The Fae smiled. “Good. If you would permit us some time, I would like to confer in private with the warrior.”
Seneca gave a curt nod, and the members vanished.
He turned to Conn. “Welcome home, though I cannot say it is a joyous return.”
Conn swallowed. “Loran? By the Gods!”
“What? You assumed your friend was dead?” Loran chuckled. “I was ancient when you left and far older upon your return.” He tapped a finger to his head. “Though at times, a bit forgetful. Though as an elder to the Fae council, I have no wish in informing them of that bit of information.”
Conn embraced his dear, old friend. Stepping back, he gazed over the features of the ancient elder. Lines marred his forehead and gray etched his temples. At the least, Conn believed his friend to be older than the earth they stood upon. “Why are you here?”
Loran rubbed a hand over his chin. “Word traveled the realm quickly when you sealed the doors to all worlds—past, present, and future. The uproar struck a fierce blow to the king and queen. They felt it keenly.”
“I was not alone,” interjected Conn.
Two chairs materialized, and Loran gestured for Conn to sit. “No. We understood Liam and Rory were there as well. However, yours was the power that locked the realms. They merely closed the doors. Your power is the greatest, Conn. It was a gift given to you specifically from the king on your initiation into the Brotherhood. Did you not consider that they would feel the sharp blade of betrayal when you turned the key?”
Conn leaned forward. “Yes. I knew the moment I locked all within that night. It was the only way.”
His friend nodded. “Are you so sure?”
“Yes.”
“The Dragon Knights might have succeeded,” countered Loran.
Conn arched a brow. “So my trial is not because we brought the MacKays through the veil? It’s because I locked the realms?”
Sighing, Loran looked away. “You—your other Fenian brothers never gave us a chance. They would have stood beside you. Your King—”
“He silenced my pleas when I requested assistance the last time the Dark One attempted to enter the human world a thousand years ago! Or have you forgotten?” Conn stood and paced the room. “A terrible battle was fought and many lost their lives.” He glanced over his shoulder at the Fae. “This time, I deemed what I believed was necessary for the safety of two worlds.”
“When did you become king?” protested Loran. “It was not your decision. Furthermore, your actions through the centuries have been rife with interferences. You bend the law to suit your needs. Some, the king and queen have chosen to look away from—granting you free will. But no longer.”
Conn pinched the bridge of his nose to temper his fury. “Are they afraid of what I might do?”
Sighing, Loran stood. “They would never fear their own son.”
“I am no longer their child,” snapped Conn. “When I took an oath to become a Fenian Warrior, I gave up my rights to inherit the throne. I became one of the Brotherhood. I would never seek to take Abela’s claim to the throne, either.”
“Sweet Mother Danu,” muttered Loran. Rising, he walked over to Conn. He grasped his shoulder. “You have been away far too long. Your sister is now a Fae priestess. She has no wish to become queen.”
The blow of Loran’s words struck like a knife, tearing into his heart. Stumbling back, Conn rubbed a shaky hand over his face. “Why?”
“It is not my story to tell, Conn. You will have to ask her.”
“She has passed the ten years of seclusion?” His question was one of shock.
Loran nodded. “Abela has been a priestess for almost one hundred years.”
The moment Conn had pledged his life as a Fenian Warrior, he walked away from his Fae family. The years of training and traveling the Veil of Ages had become his new way of life. He never had a wish to stay locked within the walls of the crystal palace, as he had often shouted to his father. No, he was born a warrior, something he and his father did agree upon.
Now to learn his twin—his sister had chosen a path of isolation within a deeper part of their world, shocked Conn. Her love and spirit of life always infused others, and he believed she would have made a kind and loving queen. He would have honored her until the end of his days.
But now…
“Can I see her?” uttered Conn softly.
Loran shrugged. “It’s entirely up to her. I can pass along a request.”
Conn stepped away. “No. If Abela wishes to see me, she’ll send the request. I’m sure she’s aware that I have returned.”
“She dwells deep within the caves,” admitted Loran.
Conn’s smile was sad when he replied, “We are twins. I felt her brush of power within my mind the moment I returned. I might not be able to communicate with any others, but I shall always have this connection with her.”
“Ahh…” murmured Loran.
Fisting his h
ands on his hips, Conn shook his head. “I cannot believe my parents would allow her to leave the light of the Fae realm and seek such isolation.”
Loran crossed his arms over his chest. “Why? It is a great honor to be chosen into the holy community. To be one at times with the land, seeking and learning its knowledge—a great gift, indeed. You chose your path and Abela her own. Your parents were stunned in the beginning, but they have since given their blessing. She is a light among our people, especially during the great fire festivals. They revere her and the other priestesses more than our own king and queen.”
Conn glanced at his friend. “Is she happy?”
Smiling, Loran nodded. “Abela’s beauty is enhanced by her love of the world below and her people. She is extremely happy and understands the purpose for what she has chosen on this path.”
Sighing deeply, Conn made his way to the council table. “Then I am happy for her. Now, tell me what can I expect from this trial?”
Loran brought the chairs over to them with a flick of his wrist. Sitting down, he motioned Conn to the other chair. “You have several choices. The first, charges will be read and you will be given time to give your account. The second, you waive a trial and proceed to the Hall of Remembrance to witness your offenses through the mirrors of your life. With each, a judgment will be decreed.”
Conn snorted. “Those are my only options? You make it sound like I’m guilty no matter if I give my account or not.” He leaned his forearms on his thighs. “They may as well pass a verdict, since none of them will listen.”
When his friend remained silent, Conn blew out a frustrated breath. He wanted no part of the Hall of Remembrance. His memories were clearly as vivid within his mind. There was no need to have them flash in front of him.
Loran closed his eyes. “They are returning.”
“Good. I wish to end this.”
As both Fae stood, their chairs vanished. Loran took hold of Conn’s arms. “Whatever happens, know you will always have friends here in this realm.”
“You honor me with your words, Loran, and I thank you.” Embracing his friend, Conn went and stood behind the truth stone.