Rebirth and Second Chances

I had Gwydion teach me the scrying spell he used to communicate with others. It was more skill than a spell, which explained why it was still functional when the Sidhe had lost most of their magic. Talahm was a much more technologically advanced world than Urt, the name the people had for this world, and I wanted to see if I could use my M-AI to create something similar. The skill was simple enough, requiring no real talent to activate.

It required a user to have a source of water to serve as a base for the structure when we use our power of illusion. The water particles, able to form into a solid, liquid, and vapor, allowed for a medium the illusion could solidify around.

Illusion was a unique ability, one that all Sidhe had, but unlike glamour, it was intangible, a mental seeming created by intent. The Sidhe were also gifted with glamour, and unlike illusion, the constructs we created using this ability had a component of reality to them.

The reason you could touch them and be touched by them was that glamour we crafted solidified the air, water, and earth we used to create an illusion that became more. Twisting reality to conform to our images. The building I could use when traveling as a camp expanded and became real because we supplied definition and realism to the illusion using glamour.

Those definitions required arrays and a runic script for uniformity. It was possible for me to create a building using just illusion and glamour, but there would be slight differences each time I did. And the spatial storage aspect that could be included with the right enchantments would be impossible for something that was entirely created using glamour.

Water, air, even earth were always in motion. Even a bowl of water that seemed still was engaged in that motion. Evaporation and condensation happen on such a microscopic level that only the most sensitive instruments could measure the actions taking place.

But scrying made use of the water molecules, the vapor that permeated the air to create illusions based on reality. The images a person was attempting to scry began as fog, but cleared and became substantially detailed as a connection between two scrying pools was established.

Illusion by itself would have been worthless. But combined with intent and the enchantments scribed on the scrying vessel, real communication became possible. The bowl Gwydion used for scrying had been enchanted for that purpose.

They had crafted it using an interesting runic language that limited and directed the enchantment. They carefully etched the symbols for distance and sound into the bowl. Gwydion activated the device by injecting those runes with his intent. It was these runes that allowed the scry to establish a sympathetic relationship, a kind of ritual that was as potent as magic if applied correctly.

Symbolism was part and parcel of the method they had developed. That allowed him to speak with anyone that had their own scrying device, as long as he knew who the person he wanted to speak to was. Intent allowed him to connect to the specific person he was attempting to reach, with no risk of a misplaced call or wrong number.

To complete the process, they bound the scrying device using blood. For the Sidhe, it always came down to blood or sex. But without that binding, the device was inanimate, a nice bowl, but nothing else. For Gwydion, bound as it was, it would notify him whenever it became active, alerting him to an incoming scry.

By binding his blood with the enchantment, it formed a tenuous connection between the device and him. Similar to the bond that I had formed between Ag, Tia, and me. The biggest difference was that there would be no damage to his soul if the scry vessel were destroyed. Perhaps if he found a living vessel to bind to, that might change.

It was enough of a connection that he knew when someone was attempting to communicate with him, or when someone was attempting to use his vessel to spy on him. There were no ring tones, no voice messages to be saved, but when someone was attempting to contact him, there was an awareness, a connection between vessels that was possible, an opportunity to acknowledge or ignore that connection.

I thought it an ingenious solution to the lack of technology and believed I could easily integrate the process into my Magical Artificial Intelligence, the M-AI I wore on my wrist. I wasn't the most accomplished enchanter, and my programming skills were at the novice level at best, but the M-AI came with an app that allowed me to use plug-and-point programming to create something that should work.

The scry interface I came up with was kludged together, took up more memory than it should have, but it worked. I had the memory to spare, the device I was wearing the latest in magic technology, so I wasn't worried about efficiency so much as performance.

The artificial intelligence that had been installed into my device was cutting edge, intelligent enough to be able to fix any issues that cropped up with the hack job program I managed to cobble together. The largest problem the AI needed to fix centered around the use of the embedded holographic technology the device came with.

I'm not sure how it worked, my knowledge of programming and the technology that allowed the M-AI to work was not advanced enough. Instead of illusion to create the images that scrying required, the M-AI made use of holographic features that were powered by embedded mana crystals.

I tested the app that the AI had tweaked, contacting Morgan le Fey, the reigning Queen for the Sidhe that had not retreated Underhill, in the process. I hadn't had a way to contact her until now. Sergeant-at-arms Rhea had reported the events of my fight with the Fomorian, but she hadn't included me in that conversation. I had realized that I had missed an opportunity to connect with the ruling Sidhe after I had left, but it was too late to do anything about it by that time.

With the information Gwydion had shared, that would change. And he could serve as a local figure that Morgan knew to introduce me.

I made sure he was in the range of my M-AI when I activated the app. My intent to connect with the Queen activated the device and was filtered through the programming the AI was working to streamline the process. A magical connection was opened, the hologram slowly forming to show the Queen looking into her scrying device with confusion.

"Gwydion?" Morgan said in shock at his presence, completely ignoring my own. "How have you managed to escape Underhill?"

"The [Geas] Lleu Llaw placed on me and the wards protecting Underhill are failing," he answered. "Something changed a few days ago, something that not only affected the [Geas] and wards, but gave me back my magic. Whatever it was, it has restored my ability to perform spells long lost."

He demonstrated what he meant by casting a spell. It wasn't anything earth-shattering, a burst of life that gave substance and intellect to a rock formation. Morgan and I both watched as the rocks tore themselves from the hill, joining together to form an earth elemental.

"How?" Morgan asked in disbelief before casting her own spell. We watched as shadows gathered and formed, cloaking her in armor, a sword of shifting darkness springing from her hand. It transformed her look of disbelief into one of wonder and pleasure. Her magic returned and restored her control over darkness, a formidable weapon of fear and horror.

All creatures feared the night. It was why Man feared the Sidhe so much, why they spent so much time learning how to control fire. That fear was instinctive, something ingrained and genetic. They feared the night because they had learned, as they evolved, that there were monsters hidden in that darkness.

The Sidhe could be those monsters

The changes to Morgan were noticeable now that she had regained her magic. It was more than just a newly gained confidence. There was a new gravitas to her that had been missing. She was a Queen, but that hadn't been reflected in her body language. She had become disillusioned and had an almost fatalistic belief that the Sidhe were going to be defeated.

That belief had been evident in her posture and how she presented herself. Now she had gained a new sense of poise, a depth of conviction that had rekindled her belief in herself and the Sidhe.

Her eyes, which had been tinged with traces of fear and despair, now blazed with a presence of fiery determination. She was Queen Morgan le Fey writ large. She had not turned her back on her people like the High King. She had not escaped to Underhill like the Twelve Kings. And with her magic and power restored, she would have a chance to turn the tide of battle and do what those who had fled hadn't dared.

The Sidhe may still suffer defeat, but the war was not lost. Gwydion and I watched as a new sense of purpose-filled this Queen. The danger and fear that all people had when confronted with darkness were hers to command once more, and she was well versed on how to expand on those horrors.

I was pleased as I watched her newfound confidence restored. She was only one woman, but a woman that could control the dark was more daunting than an army of armor-clad Sidhe.