The Iron Realm (The Iron Soul Book 1)

by J. M. Briggs

  “I don't think it…” Myrddin started to say before his knees weakened and he stumbled forward, his knees colliding with the small rocks of the shore.

  He felt the pain sharply through his legs and a shudder rushed through him. Opening his mouth to speak, he felt choked as the smell of the nearby plants, the nearby animals and his own body filled his throat. The air carried the taste of grass, leaves and stone as it floated across his tongue. Chirping of the birds echoed into his ears along with the lapping of the lake and the shifting of the rocks. Grasping his head, Myrddin groaned in agony, unable to think, unable to separate the sensations flooding through him. He felt the fabric of his shirt too intensely, felt the breeze on his face too harshly and felt the ache in his knees all through his body. Then everything went black, silent and still.

  Myrddin opened his eyes slowly as his mind returned to him, but found only darkness. He was lying on cool ground and inhaled the scent of the earth with caution. This time he was not overwhelmed, but comforted by the scent of moist earth and clay. Flexing his fingers, he felt the dirt give way to his fingers and brushed his thumb across a stone. Then he listened, but there was no sound of Cyrridven or the water of the lake. He blinked to check that he was truly in darkness, keeping a burst of fear in check by focusing on the feel of the earth in his fingers. Feeling by hand, Myrddin slowly rose to his knees and tried to see something in the darkness.

  Then there was a flash of light before him and a small glowing orb appeared before him. It spun softly, wisps of light floating around it like small arms and the glow intensified. He did not look away from the orb of light, not even to see where he was. It radiated warmth and filled Myrddin with a surge of emotions, all coming too quickly for him to identify any of them, but he felt strong after the wave passed and had a lingering sense of joy.

  The light dimmed and the wisps of light curled into the orb, creating a smooth perfectly round form. Myrddin watched in silence as the surface hardened and took on a gray color with a metallic shine, not unlike the one he knew from bronze. The strange metal orb hung in the air before him, still shining with a strange internal light. Red light began to creep over its surface, cracking the metal slowly and Myrddin gasped with shock as the orb turned red hot before his eyes, so bright it almost hurt to look at it.

  Suddenly the orb was stuck by an unseen force, causing a sharp metallic sound that sent Myrddin flinching back. He barely kept himself from rushing forward to prevent damage to the orb. Another blow struck the orb, producing the same sound that reverberated around Myrddin. The orb turned and Myrddin paused as he observed that the side of the orb had been altered and twisted into a new shape. Flame erupted around the orb, heating it back to a red hot lump of metal. Then another blow struck the metal, altering the shape further. Myrddin stood transfixed, watching the flux of the light as the metal was heated and struck again and again. Slowly a new shape began to emerge as each blow was struck. Myrddin breathed out slowly as he recognized the form of a human stretched out in the air, floating and glowing with a soft light. Nothing happened for a long time until Myrddin took a cautious step towards the form, holding his right hand out towards it.

  Gently, he lowered his fingers and the touched the indistinct face of the metal form. The metal was smooth to the touch, but heat still lingered as Myrddin studied the strange thing in front of him with curiosity and wonder. Then he felt it, a pulsing beneath his fingers, so similar to the beat of a heart. The pulse quickened and Myrddin felt something liquid touching his fingers, something warm and sticky. Drawing his hand back, Myrddin looked down at it with alarm. His fingers were red with blood dripping down the long lengths of his fingers to pool in the palm of his hand. Looking down at the metal form, Myrddin gave a shout of alarm as blood flowed over the human figure, covering it in a thick red skin. A flash of light blinded Myrddin and he slammed his eyes shut as a rush of magic forced the air from his lungs.

  “Merlin!” an alarmed voice screamed near his ear as a hand grasped his shoulder tightly. “Merlin!”

  Taking in quick breaths, Myrddin focused on the voice and recognized it as Cyrridven's. He could hear the water of the lake next to him and feel the rocks of the shore digging into his flesh. Forcing open his eyes, Myrddin found himself back on the shore of the lake, collapsed on his knees with Cyrridven leaning over him, one hand on his shoulder and the other gripping her cauldron. When his eyes met hers, she released his shoulder and drew back from him. Her dark green eyes dropped away from his eyes to his mouth and Myrddin felt blood flowing into the crease of his lips. Instantly, he licked his lips, tasting the metallic tang of his own blood and reached up to check his nose.

  “Blood,” Cyrridven whispered thoughtfully as she watched a drop of his blood fall to the shore and be swept into the lake by a small wave. Her eyes returned to Myrddin's as the flow of blood stopped and he lowered his hand, “What did you see?” she questioned.

  “I saw…” Myrddin started slowly before he frowned and looked down at his blood covered hand, “I am not certain,” he admitted. Gripping his staff, still driven into the earth, Myrddin pulled himself up. Ignoring the protests of his knees, he studied the blood on his hand and considered the vision he had been given. “I don't understand what I was shown yet,” he told Cyrridven before tightening his grip on his staff, “But I will.”

  Cyrridven and Myrddin spoke no more on the matter, but carefully poured the remaining potion into the small jars that Myrddin had brought. As the last drop fell from the lip of the cauldron into the third small jar, the cauldron began to crack in Cyrridven's hands. Seeing only her look of alarm, Myrddin reached forward to catch a shard of the cauldron before it fell into the water, but the shard vanished in a puff of mist just before it touched his hand. Holding the cauldron more gently, Cyrridven watched in amazement as the cauldron turned to mist in her hands and faded into the breeze. Exchanging a quick look with Cyrridven, Myrddin closed and sealed the last jar before wrapping it in fabric and returning it to his bag.

  “What should I do with the poison?” He asked her, pulling the bag over his shoulder.

  “Keep it safe,” she answered simply, “A spark of magic is in everything in this world, everything except what is in those bottles.” Cyrridven sighed and looked past Myrddin, “Who knows how it might be useful in the coming days.”

  “Against the Sídhe,” Myrddin observed with a nod. “Very well, then I will keep these safe.”

  “What will you do now?” Cyrridven asked him with a cautious look. “I have done for you what I can. The magic of your world is not mine, not naturally, and I cannot help you any further.”

  “Yes you can and you will,” Myrddin replied automatically before a look of confusion and surprise took over his features. “Uh… I am unsure why I said that,” he admitted carefully.

  Cyrridven considered him and then nodded, “I think that perhaps you speak the truth that even I do not yet know Merlin,” she told him, folding her hands in front of herself. “It has been more than a thousand years since I entered your world. The crossing left me so weak and so pained that I hid myself in the waters of this world. I slept for so long and woke knowing a few truths that were whispered to me, and gifted with a small link to the magic of this world.” A warm smile appeared on Cyrridven's face and she titled her head, “I have tried to do what was asked of me, but I think that now that responsibility has been passed to you.”

  Turning away from him, Cyrridven floated out towards the center of the lake, a peaceful expression on her face.

  “Wait!” Myrddin called after her, “What if I need your help?”

  Cyrridven turned back to look over her shoulder at him and smiled warmly at him. “If you need my help Myrddin you shall have it, but the answers you need I cannot give to you. Only you can find them.”

  He opened his mouth to ask her another question, but she vanished into the waves of the lake and did not return to the surface even when he knocked his staff three times on the shore. Sighing softly, Myrd
din rubbed his forehead and turned away from the water. He checked on the small jars of poison and with a final glance at the lake started for home, more uncertain than ever of what his future held.

  13

  Mages Gather

  Alex kept glancing over her shoulder and into the darkness as they were led away from the Carlson building by Professor Cornwall. Bran was struggling to keep up with Morgana's fast pace as they crossed the lawn between them and the Hamilton building. Nicki and Aiden were just ahead of her and kept looking back at Professor Yates who was at the back of the group. When Alex glanced back, she flinched at the cold and determined look on the Professor's usually warm and open face. Instinctively, she knew that the anger she saw there was not directed towards any of them, but she felt fear at the expression.

  They followed the wall of the Hamilton building around to a side door and Nicki raised her flashlight at Professor Cornwall's command so she could pull out a small ring of keys. The professor looked around quickly before inserting the key and unlocking the door with a quick turn of her hand before shoving it open roughly.

  “Quickly,” Professor Cornwall hissed as she stepped into the dark building and led them straight for the staircase right beside the doorway.

  Nicki's small flashlight gave them just enough light to see by, but Professor Cornwall didn't seem to need it as she easily navigated the stairs to the second floor and took a sharp right at the top. Stopping in front of a doorway near the end of the hallway that had a sign next to it reading ‘history department', Professor Cornwall opened the door and gestured them inside. It was a small office with a receptionist desk and a long row of filing cabinets. Another door down the short hallway from the receptionist area was open with low light spilling into the hallway. Professor Cornwall glanced backwards as Professor Yates stepped through the main doorway and locked it behind him. He gave her a nod and Professor Cornwall gestured for them to follow her into a nearby office.

  The office was reasonably large with a heavy wooden desk dominating the space near the window. Six framed old world maps hung around the window, stacked on top of each other as decoration. Bookshelves lined two of the walls, stuffed with a variety of books some new and some old and many small antique items. Most interesting however, was the source of the soft light that filled the room. Jack-o-lanterns of varied sizes sat all around the room, two on the desk, several on the bookshelves, one by the doorway and three more tucked into corners of the office on the floor. A long sword lay on the center of the desk beside a strange polished metal disk.

  On the desk within arm’s reach of the two chairs were two cups of teas, still steaming.

  Alex glanced towards Aiden who gave a tiny shrug and moved further into the room so that Nicki and Bran could join them. Professor Cornwall and Professor Yates stepped in after them and locked the door. The professors moved around the students and sat down in the chairs that Alex supposed they had vacated when rushing to the rescue. Professor Cornwall picked up her tea and took a small sip before setting it back down to look at them. Professor Yates on the other hand, took a sip and settled back in his chair still holding the cup between his hands.

  No one spoke, Alex stood completely still between Bran and Aiden with Nicki on the other side of Aiden as all four of them gaped at the professors, all at a complete loss. After waiting a few moments, Professor Cornwall reached over to pick up the polished metal disk and held it up near one of the jack-o-lanterns on her desk. She studied it carefully before nodding to herself and saying something to Professor Yates in a strange language. Nicki perked up at the language, tilting her head curiously as she listened to the quick exchange. Professor Yates sighed and Professor Cornwall set the metal disk back down on the desk.

  “What happened out there?” Aiden sudden asked, “What were those things and how did you stop them?”

  “Let us start with who we are,” Professor Yates suggested with a soft smile. “Ambrose Yates is not my real name. The name of my birth is Myrddin, but I am much more famously known as Merlin. My associate Morgana Cornwall is better known as Morgana le Fey,” he told them, watching their faces in interest.

  Alex couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. Her lungs ached as her ability to breath deserted her and she leaned back against a bookshelf, nearly shaking it with the force of her laughter. A nervous giggle erupted from Nicki, quickly followed by a frantic chuckle from Aiden. Only Bran remained composed, looking at the rest of them with mild alarm and then back at the professors.

  Neither Professor Cornwall nor Professor Yates said anything else as they waited for the nervous release of fear to pass. Alex recovered first, gulping in air and studied the two carefully and as casually as she could manage.

  “Merlin and Morgana?” Aiden repeated when he had caught his breath. “Really? That would make you hundreds of years old.”

  “Those old stories are more than a bit displaced,” Professor Cornwall answered with an elegant shrug, “We are both closer to three thousand years old, born during the bronze age of the British Isles.”

  Raising an eyebrow at the strange response, Alex glanced at Aiden for guidance in the strange situation. He blinked at them both with surprise, but took a small step forward. Curiosity was evident on his features and Alex hoped that he wasn't leading them into even more trouble due to his fascination with magic and myths.

  “Let's say that is true,” Aiden suggested, “And that the two of you are Merlin and Morgana from the King Arthur legend… just earlier than most stories. I'd still like to know what those things were and why they attacked us.”

  “Those were Sídhe hounds,” Professor Yates answered gently with a glance to all of them. Nicki let out a small gasp of alarm that made Aiden turn to look at her with worry.

  “She hounds?” Bran repeated with a confused tone. “Like girl hounds?”

  Professor Yates shook his head and turned his eyes towards Alex. “Miss Adams, you referred to the Sídhe in your worksheet earlier this semester, did you not?”

  “Uh,” Alex glanced at the others, uncomfortable being the center of Professor Yates' attention. “Sídhe is an older Irish word for the Fae… it means people of the mounds,” she answered hesitantly.

  “Correct,” Professor Yates told her with a kind smile. “I am afraid that those hounds were sent out to scout for their Sídhe masters. I suspect their orders were to track any humans with magic that they found. To them we would have been far too dangerous to attack, but four young people all together would have made far too tempting a target.”

  “Magic,” Alex repeated with a soft exhale. “Shit, this is really about magic.” She looked at the two professors with wide eyes, “Are you really Merlin and Morgana?”

  “Yes,” Merlin answered gently, setting down his tea and meeting Alex's wide and frightened eyes. “I am Merlin and she is Morgana, but the lives we have lived are quite different from the medieval stories that you are familiar with.” When Morgana snorted behind him, Merlin added, “Especially Morgana's story.”

  “So when we first met and had those… visions,” Nicki asked in a strong voice that quivered only the tiniest bit before she said the word visions, “That was magic.”

  “Yes,” Morgana answered, “When two people with similar magical ability first meet or see each other after being apart for some time their magic reaches out to each other. It is often the first magical thing that a mage ever encounters. Mages have a special purpose in this world and the Connection, as we call it, serves that purpose by identifying mages to each other and giving them some basic information about each other.”

  “Wait,” Bran interrupted, holding up a hand and giving it a small wave. “I get the feeling that there is a lot to go over, but you said that mages have a purpose. Let's start there and go onto the … Sídhe from there.”

  “Very well,” Morgana agreed with a nod of her head, “Magic is a defensive system of this world.”

  Holding out her hand, Morgana curled her fingers slightly. A moment late
r a burst of light appeared, twisting in strange shapes in the palm of her hand. Alex drew up slightly from the sudden display, her mind returning sharply to the whip of light that had been used to strike down the hounds. Morgana's light grew brighter and brighter before it burst forth, long twisting lines of light filling the room above them. They moved, grew and turned around each other until they settled into the form of a large tree growing from the professor's hand with the branches spanning above them.

  “There are many worlds, each different and separate with its own properties,” Morgana explained softly, her voice piercing the awed silence that had taken over the room.

  Merlin now raised his hand, palm down and made a small graceful gestures. Tiny orbs of soft blue light appeared on his fingertip and he waved them towards the tree. He repeated the gesture as the orbs began to settle on the branches of the tree and a few in the trunk, creating glowing points of blue amongst the golden light of the branches.