The crystal halls of Ériu's palace shimmered with a thousand fractured lights, each reflection a fleeting glimpse of the Otherworld's endless mysteries. Kael walked beside the Sidhe queen, the Gáe Bolg resting on his shoulder, its runes glowing softly in the ethereal glow. The air was thick with the scent of wildflowers and something sharper, like ozone after a storm, and the distant hum of Sidhe magic made his skin prickle. Around him, the palace seemed alive—vines curling along the walls shifted subtly, as if watching, while the floor beneath his feet pulsed with a heartbeat that echoed the land itself. It was beautiful, but unnerving, a reminder that the Otherworld played by rules he didn't yet understand.
Ériu's presence was a grounding force, her golden hair shimmering like a sunrise, her violet eyes holding a wisdom that made Kael feel both seen and small. She led him through a corridor lined with crystal statues of ancient Sidhe heroes, their faces frozen in expressions of triumph and sorrow. "This is the Hall of Echoes," she said, her voice a melody that seemed to resonate with the walls. "Every statue holds a memory of Ériu's past—a reminder of the cycles we endure."
Kael paused before a statue of a warrior wielding a spear not unlike his own, his features sharp and fierce. "Is that… Cú Chulainn?" he asked, recalling his mythology class.
Ériu nodded, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "Yes. He bore the Gáe Bolg before you, and his legend is etched into Ériu's soul. But his path was one of tragedy as much as glory. You, Kael Lughson, must forge a different fate."
Kael swallowed, the weight of her words settling on him. "No pressure, huh?" he muttered, earning a soft chuckle from Ériu, a sound like wind through leaves.
Behind them, Morrígan, Aífe, and Brigid followed, their presence a comfort in the alien realm. Morrígan's crows perched on the statues, their black feathers stark against the crystal, while her crimson eyes scanned every shadow, ever vigilant. Aífe's grip on her spear was tight, her blue eyes darting to every movement, her warrior instincts on edge. Brigid, her fiery red hair glowing softly, seemed more at ease, her hands tracing the air as if feeling the Otherworld's magic, her green eyes filled with wonder.
"This place is… overwhelming," Brigid said, her voice gentle but awed. "The magic here is ancient, tied to the land's very essence. I can feel Ériu's spirit in every breath."
Aífe snorted, though her tone lacked its usual sharpness. "It's too pretty. Makes me itch for a fight. I don't trust anything this perfect."
Kael grinned, glancing back at her. "You'd pick a fight with a flower if it looked at you wrong, Aífe."
She smirked, nudging him with her elbow. "Maybe. But you'd be right there with me, wouldn't you?"
"Always," Kael said, the word carrying a warmth that made Aífe's smirk soften into a genuine smile, her blue eyes lingering on him a moment longer than necessary.
Ériu led them to a balcony overlooking a shimmering lake, its surface a mirror of stars despite the eternal twilight of the Otherworld. The water rippled with faint images—glimpses of Ériu's landscapes, from Ulster's rolling hills to Munster's rugged cliffs, a living reflection of the land she embodied. "This is the Mirror of Ériu," she said, her voice solemn. "Through it, I see the land's heart—and its wounds. The darkness I spoke of grows, Kael. A rogue god, one who turned against the Tuatha Dé Danann long ago, seeks to unmake our magic. Balor is his pawn, but the true threat lies deeper."
Kael leaned on the balcony's edge, the cool crystal biting into his palms as he stared at the lake. "A rogue god, huh? That's… a lot. Any chance you've got a name for this guy? Or a weakness?"
Ériu's expression darkened, her violet eyes reflecting the lake's starry glow. "His name is lost to time, erased by the Tuatha to weaken his power. But his influence seeps through the cracks of Ériu's magic, corrupting the land. As for weaknesses… that is what we must discover, together."
Morrígan stepped forward, her crows fluttering restlessly. "I've sensed this corruption," she said, her voice low. "In my visions, I see shadows that do not belong—whispers of power that defy the natural order. If this god moves through Balor, we must strike at the source."
Kael nodded, his mind racing. "Okay, so we've got a mystery god pulling the strings. That's a problem for tomorrow. Right now, I want to know more about this place—and you." He turned to Ériu, his tone earnest. "You're the spirit of Ériu, but what does that mean? How do you… feel about all this?"
Ériu's gaze softened, a rare vulnerability in her regal demeanor. "I am Ériu's soul, its memory and its hope. Every blade of grass, every river's song, every warrior's cry—I feel it all. When the Fomorians burn our groves, I burn. When our people suffer, I weep. But when heroes rise, like you, I find strength." She placed a hand on his arm, her touch warm and electric. "You give me hope, Kael Lughson. That is why I joined you."
Kael felt a flush creep up his neck, her words stirring something deep within him. "I'll do my best not to let you down," he said, his voice quieter now. "But I'm still figuring this hero thing out. Back home, I was just a guy who liked history and kicking butt in the dojo. Here… it's a lot."
Brigid moved to his side, her hand resting on his other arm, her healing light a gentle warmth. "You're more than that now, Kael," she said, her green eyes steady. "You've brought us together, given us purpose. We believe in you."
Aífe crossed her arms, her smirk returning, though her tone was softer. "She's right. You're a pain sometimes, but you've got heart. And that spear of yours doesn't hurt, either."
Morrígan's lips twitched, a rare hint of amusement in her crimson eyes. "You're a fool, spear-bearer, but a worthy one. Don't let sentiment cloud your focus—we have work to do."
Kael chuckled, the weight on his shoulders lightening with their support. "Thanks, all of you. I'd be lost without you—literally, in this place."
Ériu smiled, a radiant expression that seemed to brighten the balcony. "Come, let us walk the gardens. The Otherworld's beauty may ease your burdens, and there is much I would show you before we face the trials ahead."
They followed her down a spiraling staircase to a garden where flowers bloomed in impossible colors—violets that shimmered like starlight, roses that sang softly in the breeze, and lilies that glowed with a soft golden light. The ground was carpeted in moss that felt like silk under Kael's boots, and small, glowing creatures—tiny sprites with dragonfly wings—darted among the blooms, their laughter like tinkling bells. A waterfall of liquid silver cascaded into a pool, its surface reflecting the group as they walked, their images rippling with every step.
Kael paused by the pool, watching the sprites dance across the water. "This place… it's like a dream," he said, his voice soft. "But I can't shake the feeling it's hiding something. Like it's waiting for me to mess up."
Ériu knelt beside the pool, trailing her fingers through the water, sending ripples that formed images of Ériu's past—heroes clashing with Fomorians, druids weaving spells, lovers dancing under moonlight. "The Otherworld reflects the heart," she said. "It shows beauty to those who seek it, but danger to those who falter. You feel its challenge because you carry the prophecy's weight. But you are not alone."
Kael watched the images, his thoughts drifting to his own world—his college dorm, his friends, the simplicity of his old life. "I don't know if I'm ready for all this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm here, and I'll fight for Ériu. For all of you."
Ériu rose, her violet eyes meeting his, and she placed a hand on his cheek, her touch a spark of connection that made his heart race. "That is enough, for now," she said. "Rest here, Kael Lughson. Tomorrow, we face the Sidhe's trials—and the truth of the darkness that threatens us all."