Chapter 297: Suppressed
Gwydion fab Don was the only member of the new council of Twelve not to be blindsided by the strength of the attack that Morgan had launched. They had had a few days to reacquaint themselves with their magics, enough time to be if not adept as they were at one time, at least practiced enough to knock the rust off skills and spells long forgotten. Her magic, fueled by her anger along with her frustration, were enhanced. That rage made her more powerful than what any Sidhe had been capable of for eons.
Her attack didn't kill Lleu Llaw, he was too powerful for that, but it certainly damaged him. Each tendril of shadow that she controlled inflicted a scathing attack, leaving behind gaping wounds that bled profusely. The rest of the Twelve watched in stunned disbelief as each lash of [Shadow] left behind wounds that quickly healed.
The Sithern allowed this attack, content to simply absorb the blood that was spilled, drinking King's Blood as tribute. That tribute added an additional dimension to the Sithern's structure.
Lleu Llaw had been High King of Sidhe for too long to be truly damaged by Morgan's attack. His ability to heal was as powerful as any Sidhe, and even if it had been thousands of years since he last had access to his magic, the memories of those spells were deeply ingrained. There was a type of muscle memory to spell casting. It was similar to learning to ride a bike, once learned you never forgot.
His power was related to and concentrated around the ocean and its waters. He was most powerful when near the world's oceans, but even on land, even within the pocket dimension of the Sithern, he was a Power. He proved that when he counter-attacked, flooding the room with water and utilizing the pressures found at the deepest level of the oceans he made home, forces that made him so feared.
A pressure that was so overbearing that it forced the entire room to struggle to remain upright. Most lost that battle. Besides Morgan, only Fionn, Nimue, and Merlin managed to disregard the attack completely. Fionn was too connected to the earth, his foundation rock solid and rooted too deeply to succumb.
Merlin was Slaugh while Nimue was Hag. They were as much a creature of water as they were of air and were able to ignore the pressures only found in deep waters. Their physical body structures evolved to survive comfortably on sea, land, or air.
Morgan was a creature of shadow. It was impossible to constrain shadow using the pressure Lleu could release. Light was the natural enemy of shadow. Belgara would be well suited to constrain her, her magic resonating with light, allowing her to transmogrify the spectrum into concentrated energy. She could shape that energy to create attacks that were lazar-like in intensity and precision. Her control allowed her to warp the electromagnetic spectrum.
Belgara might have been persuaded to aid Lleu Llaw if he hadn't been so overbearing in his response to Morgan's attack. The two women had formed an enmity over the years, a feud fueled by the clashing energies of their magic. Lleu Llaw Gryffes' position as High King had instilled in him a sense of entitlement and expectation. With none of the Tuatha de Danann known or active in this world, he was the most powerful Sidhe, the most powerful individual in the world. His hubris was the equal of Zeus's and Odin's. It was the reason for Morgan's attack in the first place. He had become accustomed to imposing his will on any he considered lesser.
And he considered everyone lesser.
That would have to change.
There were more important considerations to worry about. Zeus and Odin have initiated a pogrom against the Sidhe people. They meant to kill us and would not be satisfied until we were extinct. Why they decided to focus on the Sidhe made no sense.
If it was the first step to co-opt the Divine spark from all other Gods, then they should have focused on a Pantheon that was active in this universe. The Tuatha de Danann were in [Sleep] and had not followed the Sidhe as they immigrated to this universe. Sublimation of the Divine was possible and would cross the multi-verse, but there had to be an established Pantheon before you could weaken them by destroying their followers.
Perhaps they chose the Sidhe, because our Gods were in [Sleep] and hadn't filtered into this universe to influence or protect us. The use of death as a pool of entropy. An energy that could be used as a springboard for their next attack. In the end, it didn't matter their reasoning. There would only be the two of them, battling for supremacy of a multi-verse flicking on the verge of annihilation.
"Enough," I said, entering the room, forcing the waters to part as I did. I allowed enough of my connection to Beleros and Cyronax to resound throughout the room as I entered, enough of my heritage to suppress both Lleu Llaw and Morgan's spellcraft, my aura lashing out as a reflection of my will and intent.
Each of these people was a Power, but I was the only one to have a real connection to the Tuatha de Danann Gods. My bloodline was the purest of any Sidhe alive, thanks to the transformation I'd been granted at my rebirth. And although my bloodline may have been manufactured and granted by the System, that didn't make it any less real.
I was a direct descendant of Beleros and Cyronax, acknowledged by both Gods.
I had spoken with and walked with those Gods that had gifted me with my blood and talents. And just as important, Danu had blessed me and my actions directly. And although my powers seemed reduced on this world, they were still proportionally equivalent to the skills and abilities I'd enjoyed for decades.
"There is too much we need to do to worry about without assigning blame. You can debate how far the Sidhe have fallen, or the reason for that fall, later," I continued speaking as I moved to claim the thirteenth throne. It was raised slightly higher than the other twelve, but that was the only difference between it and the other thrones present.
Morgan and Lleu hadn't ceased their contest of will, each continuing to attack even as I entered the room and made their actions moot. I did gain their attention, but only once they found their abilities ineffective and their spells suppressed. Fire worked as well to disperse shadow as light, and my control of ice was related to the void. There was no greater pressure than that found within the void.
My aura continued to pulse in response to their casting, negating the magic of shadow and ocean. The rest of the Twelve regained their feet as the pressure Lleu Llaw was releasing was nullified, some thankful for my intervention, some wary of a Power great enough to contend against both Lleu Llaw and Morgan le Fey.
"Who are you?" Puck asked.
I wasn't surprised that he was the one to demand an introduction, at least if his personality was close to what Shakespeare had depicted. He was a trickster, always getting into situations and schemes that would upend expectations for the rest of the Royals. And because he had always been able to escape any repercussions for his actions, he was filled with a sense of bravado.
I thought he was more Goblin than Knocker and wouldn't be surprised to find he had deep connections to those Sidhe.
"I am many people," I replied. "Most have no bearing on the here and now, except that I was instrumental in giving this Sithern life and restoring the World Tree. Because of that, Seastan Deireanach had chosen me to act as Voice for this council."
"And what is a Voice?" Diarmuid asked?
"A tie-breaker when needed. A person who serves the Sithern and Sidhe, ignoring politics and faction. A guiding light when required, and a restraining hand when forced to act. A High King to blame when the Sidhe needs a scapegoat or a hero.
"You Twelve have been selected by the Sithern to rule, but your positions as council members are transitive, probationary. The Sithern will continue to test your suitability, and if it finds you wanting, you will be replaced.
"Mine will be the hand that forces you to step down if necessary. The Sithern will decide, but if you are judged to be unacceptable, you will cede the throne you have been awarded and make way for someone better suited to not only rule but to save the Sidhe from extinction.
"This Sithern is named Last Stand for a reason. It is from here that the Sidhe will rebuild everything you have lost.
"Your magic has been restored because [Fairy] has returned. The Sithern will serve to protect our people in a way that no other place can. It has created connections to every instance of Underhill, above and beneath, to allow for escape when necessary. Our defenses here are impregnable. Not even the Gods can force their way in or destroy this place.
"But this bastion of safety comes with a cost. Hiding or refusing to defend our land will no longer be foisted off to those you have considered expendable," I warned.
"Each of you has your part to play in saving our people. You will help, or you will be cast aside," I warned.