Wintry Fairie Land
Wintry Fairie Land
In the wintry corner of the Mag Mell
The Cailleach plods through the snow of her home side of the Mag Mell, unaware Dian Cecht is close behind her. She enjoys the feel of the blustery cold ice on her bare feet. The infant in her arms shivers. A plaintive whine lingers on his bluing lips. The Cailleach cuddles the baby closer. Her body provides him no heat, though. The child’s sapphire blue eyes focus on her. She smiles at his sweet innocence.
Ahead, the castle rises from the horizon. Made of icy blue stone, it blends into the landscape. Only the brief rays of sun shining off of the metal window frames distinguish it from the background. The Cailleach sighs. She is almost home. Time to decide the little one's fate. How will she hide him away from the world?
Trudging behind The Cailleach barely able to discern figures through the tirade of snow, Dian Cecht stops to establish his bearings. Ahead a sparkle catches his eye. He realizes he is looking at the wintry castle, The Cailleach’s home. He worries if The Cailleach makes it home, she can hide the child anywhere within the confines of her castle and he may never be able to find him. Thousands of years behind a wall of ice may be this innocent one’s fate.
Dian Cecht makes out the figure in front of him. The old hag picks up her pace when she sees the castle. She cradles close what she is holding in her arms. Dian Cecht cannot make out the bundle she is carrying, but assumes it is the boy. Once she makes it into the castle, her magic can keep him from going inside. If they are not invited in, it is nearly impossible for another god to enter a god’s domain. The same does not apply to fae territory though, which is why the gods can move about freely in Ainmire’s castle.
As The Cailleach glides over the snowy surface, still unaware of Dian Cecht trailing her, she ponders the infant’s fate. The baby stares up at her. He wraps his tiny fist around her bony icy finger. Her finger begins to warm and she smiles down at the bundle, distracting herself from the path. A small slip over a dead tree root jostles the baby. The Cailleach struggles to keep him in her arms. With great recovery, she manages to keep hold of the boy, but the slip has stalled her.
Dian Cecht stalks closer to The Cailleach. He takes advantage of her stumble and confirms the child is the bundle in her arms. As she regains her footing, Dian Cecht grows closer to her, resting behind her when she finally straightens and resumes walking.
“I assume the child is not yours, sister.” Dian Cecht calmly states behind her.
His voice spooks The Cailleach and she stops, turning to look at him. “What are you doing here, brother?” she stammers out.
“Taking the child back to his parents, of course.” Dian Cecht steps closer to her.
“I am sure his parents no longer have the capability to care for him.” She gathers her courage and scowls at Dian Cecht.
“And what makes you say that, dear sister?” Dian Cecht reaches out to grab the baby.
The Cailleach pulls the infant closer to her and shrugs away Dian Cecht’s hands. “I am sure Alroy has taken them somewhere they will never be seen again. Well, at least Ciaran. I am sure he has other plans for Quinn.” She looks down at the infant and makes a quiet cooing noise, hoping to still the rousing baby.
“Don’t underestimate Ciaran. He has his father’s brawn.” Dian Cecht tries again for the child, this time pulling him from her arms.
The Cailleach hisses at Dian Cecht, refusing to release her hold on the child. “But his human mother’s weakness.”
“I would not necessarily consider that a weakness, sister. He has fought everything Alroy has thrown at him. I am sure he will win again.” Dian Cecht tries to shake The Cailleach free of the baby, but her hold is firm.
“Alroy is full fairie and my grandson. He has the definite advantage. He will prevail and that weak woman will bear his child. Alroy will have the next Leprechaun King heir.” She wiggles the baby free of Dian Cecht and pulls him closer to her, covering him in her robes.
“Quinn is anything but weak,” he steps closer to her, placing his hands on the material covering the baby. “Remember she is a child of Brigid, dear sister.” He draws the baby through the fabric, burning a hole in the cloth. “And so is this little bundle.” The infant glows red and burns to the touch.
“No!” The Cailleach shrieks. A giant wall of ice erupts from the ground and encircles Dian Cecht.
With the baby in his arms, Dian Cecht draws from the infant’s powers. He places his hand on the frozen dirt and closes his eyes. The ground inside the ice circle begins to thaw and grass grows. The ice wall melts. Dian Cecht stands in the only batch of green grass and sunlight in the frozen tundra of an environment.
The Cailleach screams and curses him. “Give me the child, you insolent asshole.” She flourishes her robe and a mammoth gust of arctic wind roars towards Dian Cecht threatening to knock him to the ground.
Dian Cecht steadies himself against the blast, grounding himself and shielding the child. The gust staggers him back, but when he regains footing, it barely moves his clothing. He laughs at The Cailleach and mocks her, “What a feeble attempt to dissuade me, sister. Do you have anything better?”
“Do not mock me, brother.” She sneers and readies herself for another attack.
Dian Cecht touches the ground again. This time the earth beneath The Cailleach greens and vines begin to sprout. The vines wrap around The Cailleach’s ankles, distracting her from her attack. She cries out as they pull her down to the ground and into the Earth.