It's 2020 A.D. and after spending almost 500 years trapped inside a Hellish realm, designed to torture. A group of mysterious people with supernatural and unique powers are found and awoken by two teenagers.
Join the Cambrian Sect as you experience the first ever adventure of Ceidwaid. Learn about their foes, parts of their history and their goal.
Issues: 5
Author: Aron Preece
Click the 'Read' button in order to display the chapters.
The Sun took centre stage on this cool, spring day, raised highly over the peaks of Snowdonia. Chatterings of Choughs flew past the snow dusted mountain faces of Y Lliwedd, Crib Goch, Yr Wyddfa and Garnedd Ugain. The sun bounced off their polished coats, shimmering like black diamonds in front of a bright and homely log fire. Faint traces of steam and smoke rise up from the railway as the train chugs heavily up the side of these giant, great wonders. The meadows of flowers bloom in fanfare, from the rare and young Snowdon lily to the common yet elegant daffodils. The plethora of lakes and reservoirs that dot the wild range of mountains light up to accompany this spring morning. The calming, deep blue aura rises up and glows all around. Spring has arrived and so has nature.
"Come on Brother, it wasn't that bad." the girl attempts to reason with her brother, who is becoming even more bitter about the subject. "Easy for you to say. I almost nailed that poor squirrel to the tree." the sister giggled and retorted quickly "Well it was the middle of December, he should've been bloody sleeping!" the brother refused to reply and just sighed with desperation. Their struggle up the mountain was painful enough without dredging up moments from the past. "Sis, a heads up. The ground's a bit shaky up here for some reason." the boy shouts down, his voice quivers with traces of nervousness. The sound of an ice pick being slammed into the side of the mountain echoed up, along with the cry of the sister shouting back. "I told you to take the regular path, but noo. You had to go be all Mr. Explorer about it." the picking sound continued.
The Sun's bright, warm embrace eases the tension of the siblings as they take time to rest on a relatively flatter, smoother and safer part of the mountain. The brother still fretting about unstable patch of ground, but put it to the back of his mind. Why should a few bits of loose rock ruin such a perfect and rare time, after all, this mountain has stood for thousands upon thousands of years, why would it tumble down and fade into the memory of the Earth now? "I'm glad you convinced me to come here, brother. I've never seen just how beautiful our country is." the sister says, awe-struck as she gazes at the peaks of the surrounding mountains, looking at the gaps in between the mountains reveals plush, thick forests of ash and pine trees that have stood for millennia. "Which one's that?" she asked, with powerful curiosity, using her finger to guide her brother's eyesight.
"Looks like... Hmm.. Coed-y-Brenin. King's Trees." he replied to his sister's question with vigorous confidence. His sister smiled to herself and turns to look up at her brother. "How do you know all these?" she asks. "Oh come on Sis. I know you rarely take your headphones off but surely you can remember me telling you my aspiration in life!" he says, slightly annoyed at his sister's supposed ignorance. "I'm just pulling your leg. I know why, Dad's still not pleased with your choice though, is he?" she says with a sympathetic tone. Her brother looked down at the floor and chucked a small stone down the side. "No..." he grumbled, knowing full well that his goals in life drew a line between him and his father. Domestic conflicts are always something he sought to avoid. As he leaned back into the snowy mountain rocks, he felt at peace, the serenity of the mountain is one he sought to enjoy for a long time. But something still didn't feel quite right...
A deep growl came bellowing out of the earth. T'was the rocks of the mountain crumbling beneath his back, the shaking intensified tenfold and soon became violent. The siblings rushed to get a hold on the line but it was too late for the brother, the ground behind him had all but sank down. His haunting, wailing screams fill the air, louder than any geological activity that was currently ongoing. "HOLD ON!" his sister cried down, she shakes with fear. As she tried to get herself detached from the rope her brother laid down, the ground stops abruptly. A brief moment of silence before the crows and the choughs start chattering and flying once more. The audible whistle of the train is heard. She looks around and is shocked, nothing had changed apart from the gaping entrance. As she finally severed her connection to the rope, she peered down into the dark, haunting, depths.
She broke out a few, neon green glow-sticks and snapped them, sending them tumbling down the hole. They roll for what felt like a life time, down the gritty slopes of the interior. The bright colour beamed up through every crack, crevice and gap before hitting the pile of stone that gave way from the surface. "B-brother?" she asked, quietly before an ethereal groan is let loose. "I'm.. not okay." the boy responded. His sister quickly slam her own ice pick into the solid rocks around the entrance before threading some spare rope through it. She descended into the bowels of the mountain, using only her phone for light. She must get to her brother, she must! After carelessly staggering down the entrance lining, she dashed over with Olympic speed to the body of her brother, lit up by the glow-sticks.
She leant over the limp, battered and bruised body of her brother and looked frantically in her backpack for anything to help, painkillers, bandages, but alas, she found nothing of use. Suddenly, the room became enthralled by light, it bounced off the phone of the sister and shone directly at a crystal, balancing in the middle of this room. This was neither cave nor shaft nor pit, for this was a tomb. The siblings eyes widen, pupils dilated with a hybrid of horror and shock, their chests vibrate as their hearts beat in synchrony. The gaze upon, almost drooling from the fright at not just the crystal, but what was behind it. The light being beamed into the crystal stops abruptly. "What... What was that?" the brother asked, with extreme confusion. Before the sister even has chance to squeak out a reply, the crystal activates by itself.
The crystal, now spinning fiercely in the centre of this unnatural, damp and cold tomb. With every gyration, it gained speed. It now lost its visible shape, it was a mere blur in the eyes of the siblings. It began to screech like an eagle, hurtling down towards its unsuspecting prey. It now glowed with the brightness of the Sun, it had reached its apex. The tomb was now as bright as the icy wastes of Antarctica. In the far recesses of this tomb, seven sarcophagi stand tall, 9ft in height, basking in the glow of the crystal. Each sarcophagus was detailed with fine markings on the edge, each a different colour; from the brightest blues to the darkest purples. This is not just remarkably strange, it defies everything one should expect about burials in this part of the World. At last the crystal began to trigger the next stage of its purpose. It made a hum, equal to that of a thousand migrating flies. Subtle yet irritating.
Seven lengthy beams of pure, unfiltered energy are shot out of the crystal, each piercing the exact centre of the sarcophagi. They began to rumble, the ground once more starts was shaken with fury, the light slowly withdrew from the room as the tombs slowly begin to disintegrate, but there is no one inside, not even any form of pottery, clothing, coins or datable relic. The beams finally reach the back of these sarcophagi, causing something truly magical to happen. A quick flash of white light stuns the climbers, now incapacitated from fear, shock and physical pain. A portal, no less, has arrived. One by one, all the other tombs follow suit. Each one now stocked with it's own portal. Where does it go? The siblings wonder, they would not wait long for the answer.
A bloodied, scarred fist pushes its way through the portal, shortly followed by a well dressed arm. The second arm, followed by the legs emerged from this otherwordly contraption, a man finally surfaced from this bright, angelic, white portal. He fell to his battered, bruised knees, covered his eyes with his stained fists and inhales sharply. Upon closer inspection, it appears the man wore a cloak, ripped at the bottom, fastened with a strange, mysterious yet comforting sigil. He lowered his hood and reveals his hair, blacker than the darkest night in the cosmos and slicked back. But perhaps the most disturbing physical feature of this strange man was his cheeks, they were decorated with a deep, embedded crystalline pattern. This pattern appeared to be some form of a dark, grey shadow.
Suddenly, without warning, a second person rushed out of his portal, spinning a long, majestic sword around before striking it deep into the damp, stone floor of the tomb. He let out a bellowing scream, it plunged the room into a state of fear. This man was taller than the previous one who stepped out of the portal but he also wore the mark upon his cheek, this time however, it was a fireball, glowing the most passionate, alluring red. He dressed differently to his compatriot, above all else, he wore a peculiar set of polished brass glasses. "Gethin, are you alright?" The second figure asked, dusting off his short, childish blonde hair who slumps into the wall. "As well as one can expect. What year is this? Who even managed to free us?" the man known only as Gethin said, fretting about the room nervously.
"Patience is a virtue." The latter said, staring at Gethin. "Haha" said Gethin, staring up. "See you've still got your wrinkles, Cystennin." Cystennin quickly furrowed his brow and sighed. "Damnit... Why do you always notice? You're worse than Fychan." he muttered, causing Gethin to chuckle. "Lighten up. It's been a while!" Gethin quickly mentioned before the rest of their comrades leave the portal. They ranged from several heights, the tallest appearing before them as 6'3ft, quick as a falcon, he unsheathed his lance and twisted the handle, revealing a small, primitive folded knife which was tucked away in the cone of the lance. "Is something wrong, Elisedd?" one of the newcomers asked. One by one they all slowly drew their weapons. As they came closer to the light, it was becoming clear that each member had their own unique, pattern that's sealed upon their facial cheeks.
The light got brighter and brighter around the wounded brother, his sister knew that it was only a matter of seconds before these strange, alien-like men would stumble upon them. She huddled up to her brother and hoped for the best, a pray for mercy that these men did not bring with them sick intentions, suddenly she was forced to open her eyes, the tallest, Elisedd, pointed his dagger at her and asked in a calm and strict manner "Who are you?" the sister could merely stammer in shock and fear, she pointed repeatedly at her brother, whose wounds are beginning to leak blood upon the cold, grey rubble pile. "Bedwyr! There's two of them, one appears to be bleeding." Bedwyr, dressed in simple, rustic, dyed cloth dashed over, quickly opening his bag of medical supplies.
"Get clear! I need room!" Bedwyr demanded. "He's passed out, blood loss is high." the fearful anticipation flooded the cave like a thick, swampy wave of water. "Cystennin, I need to borrow a knife." Bedwyr asked before being given a small, stainless steel precision knife. He lifted up the incapacitated brother and puts him on his stomach. "Sixteen points of impact, roughly 4 inches deep." Bedwyr quickly analysed the bloodied condition of this poor child's back. He rummaged around in his bag and pulled out a primitive tweezer. "Dewydd, I need some water." Bedwyr asked, a man with a thin, pencil-y moustache and the most unique and eccentric toga walks over, he holds his hand over the bloodied back of the young boy and suddenly, a wet mist begins forming at the edge of his fingers, it quickly turns into a gush of clear, deep ocean water, cleaning his back of blood. This was clearly unnatural and highly magical, what was noticeable above all else however, was his cheek markings glowing a deep, azure-blue.
Bedwyr had no time to thank his friends, there was work to do. With precision of a hunting, hungry Lion, Bedwyr plucked the stone fragments vigorously, one by one. He quickly unwrapped part of his sleeve and ripped it off, using the knife to trim it down to fit the back. "This should hold. He'll be conscious again soon, little one." he finished with, helping the sister up. "Thank you!" she said with excitement, quickly hugging Bedwyr before detaching herself, looking at the small band of men. "Oh! Yes, I should introduce myself. I'm Cynthia." she announces before taking off her hat, revealing black hair, which formed a braided ponytail. "Why has it gotten so... Hot in here?" she asked before her eyes locked onto the fireball that was in Cystennin's hands, it was perfectly round and blazingly hot, to which he bluntly remarked "I was cold." Slowly the brother woke up, staring at the feet of these strangers and asked slowly "W-who are you?"
"We are the Ceidwaid; keepers of the Earth, guardians of the realm." said one, taking centre stage. "I am Aelhaearn. Leader of this sect. Now who are you?" he asked, making eye contact with the brother, who remains isolated on the floor from agony. "Felix." he spluttered out, with groans of pain in-between. "The pain will subside soon, Felix." Bedwyr said, offering Felix a hand. He graciously accepted and asked curiously "Thanks, but how do you know?" Felix clutches the side of the wall before Bedwyr answered his question with a tone of pride. "Because I am the one who patched you up, may I suggest that you do not partake in any dancing or twisting, your muscles have been badly bruised and will cause more pain." "Now, I must ask a question, young ones. What year is it?" "It's May the 12th, 2020." Cynthia replied, quickly picking up her phone. Aelhaearn is shocked, devastated.
"That means we've been imprisoned for 487 years, Ael." a voice pips up, a man in a monk like outfit stepped forward. "Fychan, you were the last of us to be caught... Did King James even make a 'release'?" Aelhaearn asked, curiously. It doesn't make sense, why be imprisoned with these powers and have a release. It was a slow death sentence to the outside world. "No. The only possible explanation I can think of is that perhaps one of our kind came back and built some form of escape." Fychan answered, before turning to the siblings. "When you disturbed this tomb, what did you see? What broke us free?" he asked as Cynthia spoke "There was a crystal in the middle, it lit up when the Sunlight bounced off my phone. I think it's gone now." Fychan walked over and looks around, there was nought to look for.
Elisedd stuck his head out of the cave opening. "Looks clear, sir." he turns to Aelhaearn, clearly looking concerned. "No idea where we can go though." Felix manifests an idea, quickly he limped himself along to Aelhaearn. "You can come home with us. It's a farm cottage an-" Felix is cut off by Cynthia, who dragged him back into the corner. "We can't bring them home. What if Mum or Dad finds out?!" Her concerns are well reasoned, their father rarely approves of even close friends coming over and their mother uses anything as an excuse to become violent. "They down in Cardiff for the week. That agricultural show or whatever." Felix replied, determined to help these guardians. Cynthia sighed and rubs her face, trying to decide. "Fine. But if they find out, you're taking full responsibility!" Felix grins as he walked up to Aelhaearn. "You can come with us."
Aelhaearn smiled to himself, him and the rest of the Ceidwaid's have seen years upon years of human brutality, corruption, treachery, but nothing will ever surprise him as much as the kindness and generosity of a young child. "Thank you Felix. We accept your offer of sanctuary." The long trek down the side of Y Lliwedd begins, from the snow capped, grey mountains, through the fields of blooming, scented daffodils and fording streams, whiter than any cloth and filled with salmon. They eventually reached the farmhouse, coated with stones and topped with a roof of hay, this was truly a rustic retreat. Felix opens the door and invited everyone in. "Please make yourself at home, just mind the ornaments." he said, ceremonially holding the door open and extending his arm. Whoever these people are, whatever their powers, Felix and Cynthia knew, deep down, their world will never be the same from here on out.
The warm, log fire lit up the living room which was adjoined directly to the front door. The room was decorated with various knick-knacks, the house felt lived in and old, a generational home. The strong, mid day sun shone brightly through the Tudor-era glass windows and lit up the dark crevices on the house which the log fire could not. The black and white rugs dotted the floor and a strong scent of roasted beef left the kitchen archway. Aelhaearn stepped through the threshold, the floor creaking with years of stress as the heavy footed men entered the room. "Young Felix, may I ask where I can catch up on a few hundred years of history?" asked Fychan, stroking his long, brown and bushy beard. Felix snapped into action, eager to help these mysterious men who saved his life. "The study!" he quickly said. "Follow me, I'll take you there!" Fychan followed the teenager, who darts with energy, disregarding his injuries.
"You should slow down my friend, life is not something you should rush through." Fychan said, finally catching up with him outside a stained oak door, with a black cast iron lock. Felix tried to unlock the door but it wouldn't move. Dust from the gap above sprinkled down. "Let me try, young Felix." Fychan said, slowly moving Felix to the side before cracking his knuckles softly. "It's been a while..." Fychan thought to himself before stretching his fist outwards, palm facing the lock. His eyes slowly close, his cheeks glowing a deep, royal purple as the door latch vibrated quickly. "Whoa..." said Felix, shocked from this magic. The door stops abruptly and the slow, spring breeze nudges it open. "W-what did you do?" Felix asks Fychan, who took a step into the study. "I have the power of Psionics. I can manipulate physical objects. It's a long story." Fychan replied as the pair enter the book filled room. In the centre, a grand wooden desk stands with a sole computer.
"Okay so... It isn't much but this is the best I can do, I'm sorry." Cynthia said, gesturing the six men towards a collection of hastily put together duvets, pillows and blankets on the floor, resembling small beds. Around the room stand several boxes of miscellaneous items from the family's long past, the light was forced through a small, round window in the middle of the wall, barely escaping the ramped roof, for this was the loft. "We've slept in worse, we thank you for your hospitality." Aelhaearn spoke smoothly, speaking for the group. "It's nothing, really. You saved my brother's life, I am in debt." Cynthia speaks before Bedwyr corrects her. "It's our job to protect, to save. There is no debt." Cynthia smiles before speaking once more. "I'll leave you get comfortable. I'll knock once dinner's ready." she left the room and shuts the rough, unfinished door. Finally alone, the group sit in a circle and start talking.
"So.. Sir, what now?" Gethin asked Aelhaearn, with worry. He stares off at the cold oak floor before replying "I don't know. For the first time in my life I do not know. For now, try and keep your powers to yourselves, we must wait for Fychan to obtain some information before we make our next move." Elisedd spoke up. "Sir, with all due respect... Is there any point? We were fighting a lost war before we were banished - do we even have a chance anymore?" Aelhaearn shook his head. "Never give up hope, Elisedd. We must persevere. What chance does this world have without us? We must fight. We must save these people from the fate that we failed to defeat. Have faith. Fychan will find the Starstone and then we can make our next move." The room filled with agreement. There is no more room for doubt, the world they were forced to leave behind was on a collision course for an overdue doomsday.
Fychan stared at the computer and slowly navigates it. "How do you know how to operate this?" Felix asked curiously. "Well... I shouldn't tell you this but, where we used to live, this was invented three-and-a-half thousand years ago. You should see the Seren Gw-" Fychan stopped himself mid sentence, realising that Felix should not know the secrets that the world holds just yet. "The what?" Felix asked, his head crooked. Fychan quickly became flustered. "Uh.. uh nothing. Don't worry." he said while browsing several history websites. "All this suffering... We could've prevented half of them." He spoke solemnly, reviewing the horror and pain of Man before progressing. Faster than any machine, Fychan scanned the internet to find the key to their survival. "Young Felix, tell me. Why are there so many websites dedicated to fornification?" Felix only stammers as Fychan simply shrugs it off.
"This... This looks interesting." Fychan said, finding a website that contains a series of articles of stones that are shrouded by myth. "I've found it! I must tell the others." Fychan said, storming off the computer, leaving the website opens. Felix peers at the monitor and upon the monitor was the word "Starstone". He quickly ran after Fychan. "Excuse me, young Cynthia?" Fychan asked, standing by the archway into the kitchen. The kitchen was full of various utensils and fresh vegetables, bread, cheese and other goods. Cynthia stops stiring the pot and replies, slightly distant "Yes, Fychan, can I help?" "I need to talk with the rest of the group, have you seen them?" he asked, in a hurry. "Yeah, they're in the loft. Is everything okay?" Cynthia asked, sounding worried. "Never better." Fychan says, dashing off upstairs. He bashed the door open, it slammed violently against the light grey walls of the loft. "Heavens above, Fychan! Could you be any louder?" Dewydd said, almost screaming, eyes diluted from the shock of his comrade's entry. "Forgive me, Dewydd. But what I have found goes above being quiet."
Aelhaearn looked puzzled, Fychan is normally very mild mannered and slow. Something must be terribly out of place for him to charge in with the force of a stampeding herd of Bulls. "You have the floor." Aelhaearn said with an eyebrow perked towards the thatched roof as Fychan revealed a small, polished silver disc with a bright blue light radiating from the core. "You all remember this, correct?" Fychan asked, rotating his right arm around, clutching onto the disc. The group nodded in agreement. "I should remember that." Said Cystennin, "I built it after all." he continued. The blue light begins to solidify and project a map onto the ceiling. The map slowly begins to form a rough outline of the island of Britain. It focuses on one part in particular, close to the mouth of the Severn. "Gloucestershire." Fychan said. "Home to the cave of Slaughter Stream. Also home to the Starstone, according to some sources."
The group gasped with shock. "Impossible." said Elisedd. "How could it have ended up there?" Bedwyr asked, confused. "I do not know, nor do I wish to know. What matters is that we obtain the Starstone. How reliable is your information, Fychan?" Aelhaearn asked, to Fychan's dismay. He stuttered, barely able to split out an answer. "Is that really important, sir?" Fychan asked, trying to escape answering the question - how could they take him seriously if they knew it was from a website dedicated to conspiracies? "Yes. You know it is." Aelhaearn said, colder than the winds of Antarctica. He was adamant that he would receive an answer. "Not very, sir. I gathered the information from the 'internet'." Fychan said, with his head tilted down to the ground in shame. He was the group's historian and a fountain of knowledge, yet he resorted to a primative communications network to find a priceless object.
"Very well. It is our only lead, however. How far is this cave, Fychan?" Aelhaearn asked. "You can't be serious, sir. That can't really be the loca-" Gethin protested, but is cut-off. "What I choose to investigate is my choice, Gethin. Now then Fychan, how far?" Aelhaearn spoke, causing tension with Gethin. "Four hours by motor transport." Fychan said, raising his head from the floor. "Bedwyr, Fychan. Pack some supplies. We're going to these caves. The rest of you stay here. Cystennin however, I need to see you outside." Aelhaearn was ready to move, organising his men like the old days. Him and Cystennin stepped outside, into the plush, vibrant green fields. "Aye sir, how can I help?" Cystennin asks, always eager and cheerful. "My gut feeling is telling me that there is a danger unlike anything we've faced before lurking in those caves. I require a Cross." Aelhaearn asked, his face looking unconfident - worried even. For him to feel fear, it must be something grim.
"Consider it done. I shall gather timber and forge a Cross, sir." Cystennin said, leaping into action. He walked over to a small collection of logs for the fire, expertly swinging an axe into the stump. Aelhaearn watches on, the proficiency of a master craftsman is awe inspiring. His diligence was a gift like none-other. Bedwyr and Fychan step out of the house and waddled through the thick grass towards their leader. "Sir. I need to fetch an object. Would you allow me ten minutes leave?" Bedwyr pleaded with Aelhaearn. He nodded with acceptance. "Of course. I assume you require Fychan too?" Fychan quickly pipped up to respond. "Actually sir, without me it will take not only an hour to get there but an incredibly longer time to perform the task." Aelhaearn rolled his eyes and smiled. "Anything for an adventure, ey? Go on then." He said, directing his arm towards the mountains of the Snowdon ranges. "I know what you need, Bedwyr. Say hello for me."
Fychan spread his arms and summons a portal. It glistened with a mesmerising purple, as it swirls inward, little lumps of snow begin leaving the portal and onto the feet of Bedwyr and Fychan. "Onwards, my friend." Fychan said, as the pair walked through the portal. Suddenly they found themselves teleported on the banks of Llyn Glaslyn - the blue lake. "I hope she's still here." Bedwyr muttered as he knelt on the cusp of the lake. He closed his eyes and stretched his arms out towards the still waters. "Nynniaw. Rise once more to greet the noble warriors, bring forth the bounties of fallen Kings and mourned knights." Fychan spoke loudly. The water begins to ripple as a mossy stone circle penetrated the lake. Beautiful harp music tinkled out across the mountains and a young woman lifted her head up, untouched by the water. "You summoned I. How may I help?" Bedwyr stepped aboard the now shallow water and bowed before the woman. "Nynniaw. I request the weapon. The one of myths."
"Bedwyr." Nynniaw muttered, she opened her eyes and gazed upon the tattered cloth of his tunic. "You seek Caledfwlch, do you not?" Nynniaw asked, rising slowly from her rock throne before gracefully walking over to the centre pillar, a small, waist high pit that goes down deeper than any eye could see. Shrouded in darkness, only few know what awaits at the bottom of this shaft. "I'm afraid so." Bedwyr said mournfully, filled with regret. "Do you not remember the pain it brought last time? The curse of the wielder?" Bedwyr nodded slowly. "All who clutch the handle shall fall." he mumbled with fear. "It is the price of glorious power." Nynniaw said, quietly. She gracefully lifted her arms up and the sword rises from the centre piece. "Take care, dear Bedwyr. For not even you can escape death." Bedwyr graciously retrieved the sword from the stone and bid Nynniaw good day. "Good luck in your quest." Nynniaw says as Bedwyr hops off the stone island, the lady sat back on her throne and closed her eyes once more as the island sank.
"Ready?" Fychan asked, as he openned another portal as Bedwyr adjusted his sword. "As I'll ever be." The duo stepped through the portal and stand next to Aelhaearn, who is holding a cross. "Ready, men?" Aelhaearn asked, as Fychan goes to open another portal. "Wait, Fychan. Are you strong enough? Opening two portals is a daunting task for someone who just got out of Tirhedu." Aelhaearn asked with concern, Tirhedu was not only designed as a prison, but as torture too. "I haven't succumbed to my injuries yet." Fychan said. Bedwyr pondered as the portal opened "What injuries? He isn't marked at all. No blood nor bones broken." There was no time for a medical assessment, there was a job to do. Bedwyr shook his head, clearing his mind and stepped through the portal. "What a vile stench." Aelhaearn exclaimed, looking around the dark, dusty cave. The smell of death and decay was ever present and the wind spat through each crack, howling as if a thousand tormented souls were present.
"Do you feel the darkness that rests here, Bedwyr?" Aelhaearn asked as he raised his hands, summoning a ball of wind in his hands, Bedwyr followed suit by raising his sword to face level and side steps over the cracked, stone floor. "Yep..." He replied, quietly and cautiously. His sword hitting the lanterns on the roof above, causing some of the light to go out. "Here's where the website said there was a strong f-feeling." Fychan said, stuttering and shuddering, fear had taken him. "What's wrong, Fy?" Bedwyr asked, crouched down by him. Fychan's eyes turned black as the pits of a mine before flashing red. His speech became slurred as he got up, walking limp. His arms droop down like an aged willow tree and he shouted "Leeaaavee usss!" He went to strike Bedwyr but is punched down to the floor by Aelhaearn who scrambled for his crucifix. He stretched his arms out and displayed the cross towards Fychan. Fychan's eyes go snow white, the creature inside hisses and leaves.
"Unf!" Fychan said, slamming against the stones. "What happened?!" he asked, shivering with cold. "Nothing. You slipped." Aelhaearn said, before placing his finger by his lips as he looked to Bedwyr. "Lies? He's never lied. Why now?" Bedwyr's mind was becoming increasingly distracted from the task, dangerously so. "The chamber is through... here! Apparently.." Fychan said, looking around the dark cave, using his powers as a guide. The trio descended deeper into the cave system, the lanterns swung with gusts of winds, the crudely craved stone steps are soaked with water that oozes out of the mossy walls and a strong stench of death fills the chamber. "Here." Fychan said as he pressed his hand against a locked gate. A small sign made out of rusted metal reads "Admission - £10" "Well. Does anyone have any modern currency?" Fychan asked jokingly. Aelhaearn pushes Fychan aside and summons a strong blast of air in his hand, it bashed the door wide open.
"Remind me to send a check on behalf of us." Bedwyr said sarcastically while he hopped over the rusted iron gate that now lies in the beige, cracked rocks. The small, narrow passage slowly slithered into a pool of dark red water. The stones became increasingly cracked as the watery passage opens up into a bigger cave. "Across that back wall there. Can you see the indent?" Fychan pointed, stepping forward a bit too much. Crunch. Fychan looks down with a worried expression, a pile of bones stood in front of his feet. "Looks like a Dog." Bedwyr expressed, sliding over to the side. "Watch yourselves," Aelhaearn warned the group. "I feel as if we are in a web of perverse evil." Fychan walked up to the indent and examined it. Three holes aligned in a triangle with a fourth, larger one in the centre. "No problem." Fychan muttered to himself, summoning three purple rods, equal to the size of the holes in the cave wall, when suddenly...The bones of the deceased dog rose! They floated around before spinning into the position of the dog's former body, covered in dirt and cracks along the ribs. Two menacingly thick red blobs rest in the skull, taking the place of eyes and spit off a trail of red vapour. To add to this chaos, the cavern walls fell apart that revealed a series of old minions that the group used to fight - the Carbywau. Synonymous with the Golems of the East but built with one purpose - to slaughter. "I haven't seen a Carbyw for almost a thousand years." Aelhaearn muttered, once more creating miniature tornadoes in his palms. Fychan turned around and creates a pool of crystals, while Bedwyr dropped his rucksack and adopted a strong stance. He curved his arm towards his back and unsheathed one of the most legendary weapons known to man, Caledfwlch. "I've not seen that in quite some time." Aelhaearn said. "I've missed this." Bedwyr replied with, getting used to the weight. "We've got work to do." finished Aelhaearn.
Like clockwork, the Carbywau begin popping out of the wall, horrible, giant beasts. The moss drooped from their face towards the ground and their arms are smashed and stained with the blood of many a good men. Clicking into position, they finish assembling and turn to the trio. "Just like old times." Fychan said with a grin, levitating his crystals, spewing them from one hand to the other. The dog limps towards Aelhaearn, the mist still flooding out of the skull. "Yooou should've leefft long. Now yooou will be destrroyyed." the Dog spoke in an sinister tone. Aelhaearn swings out his Cross. His face, smug and confident. However the presence of the Cross does not affect the dog. "Hahaha." The Dog cackled in an ghastly fashion. "That ornament won't have an effect on me." The Dog and the Carbywau step closer and closer. "No. But this might affect you." Bedwyr shouted, dashing across the wall of the rocks before diving downwards.
Crash! Caledfwlch slammed into the neck of the reincarnated dog, sending the skull flying towards the feet of Aelhaearn. "Clearly you chose well." he remarked before sending a Carbyw into a tornado. Bedwyr plunged his sword into the centre of the swirling tornado, exploding the Carbyw and sending stone lumps everywhere. Fychan opened his palm and it spat out hundreds of crystal fragments into the chest of one of the attacking Carbyw. Embedded in the chest, the Carbyw opened his chiselled mouth and let off a gurgling laugh, he swings towards Fychan but missed. Fychan grinned and flicked his wrist, the embedded crystals explode, killing the Carbyw instantly. All the Carbywau were dead and the remains of the dog just grinded across the floor, back into the resting position. "There's only one person we know who could've orchestrated this diabolical molestation of the dead." Aelhaearn said, bitter at the fact someone would disturb the dead to perform such a twisted task such as killing.
"Ælfric." Aelhaearn finished with. Fychan walked over to the indent and summons one final crystal. He inserted it into the circular hole and steps back. The wall cracked and crumbled, dust spat out upon the floor as the wall separates, the entire chamber shook with vigour as the second layer of the wall peeled away, revealing a bright, milky blue light that bathes the chamber in its light. Both walls now rest apart. "Is it over yet?" Bedwyr complained, taking his fingers out of his ears and opening his eyes. "Whoa." he said, following Fychan and Aelhaearn who seem to be drawn to the centre of this new chamber. In the middle of the room stood a marble pillar with a small hole in the middle, around the room rested several artificial waterfalls. But there was something else. Something bothered Aelhaearn deeply. "Fychan. Can you open this?" He asked with concern - it would be a tragedy if they had to resort to alternative measures.
"Cracking it open now, sir." Fychan reassured Aelhaearn. "Good... Excuse me." He asked, scuttling off to the back of the room, to where the light shone the brightest. It began to dim with proximity. "What are you?" Aelhaearn asked himself, walking ever so cautiously towards the light when he sees the source. A crystallised coffin, draped elegantly over a marble plinth with a small, silver commemorative plaque that read "Cadwaladr." A legendary guardian, now lost to time. One of the original water guardians too. "How will I break this to Dewydd, this is his own father." Aelhaearn thought before picking up a note and heading back into the lobby. "Got it?" he asked Fychan, who nodded in response. "Good. Open a portal please. I cannot stand to be in here any longer than we must." Aelhaearn ordered. A portal ruptures infront of the trio. The stone walls slowly slide shut as they walk into the portal. Emerging in front of the house of the children, they heard intense yelling. Trouble was ahead.
Aelhaearn stepped closer to the door, it was already open. The shrill shriek of a hysterical woman filled the ears of all around, the sound was reminiscent of a hundred starving chickens. Bedwyr grasped the handle of Caledfwlch and nudged the door open, there he gazed upon a woman with blonde, corrugated hair and a male sat on the couch, adorned in farmer paraphernalia. The woman's voice became clearer. She barked towards the children in a slurred, strong Mancunian accent. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?! Inviting some weirdos to stay in OUR house!" Cynthia wells up, her eyes dripped with tears. "But Mum.. They saved Felix's l-" she attempted to reason with her mother. Suddenly the smell of strong liquour is present, alongside her slurred manner, it's wise to assume that the mother is intoxicated with alcohol. She drags Cynthia by her plaited hair up the stairs, her crying heard throughout.
"Are you just going to sit there?" Aelhaearn says to the man sat on the couch, his eyes fixated on the floor. "What can I do?" he says. "She's a violent drunk and I can't do anything to help, I've failed!" he continued, his voice dripped with self pity. Elisedd looks at the stairs, disgusted with the echoing slapping sounds. His fists tighten sharply, causing his knuckles to whiten. "Excuse me, sir." he said to Aelhaearn, almost shoving him aside. His heavy footsteps pound the oak staircase as he walked up, Ceidwaid aren't supposed to feel anger, but his wroth was so thick it almost drowned him. He arrived to the source of the sound and kicked in the door. The gust of wind caused the woman to seize her slapping and slowly turn around. "And what do you think you're doing, freak?!" she spat out, hand held high ready for another strike upon Cynthia. "Stop." Elisedd said bluntly. This was not a situation for manners. "You're not the boss of me!" she said, slurring her words again.
"I think you need to cool off." Elisedd said, sarcastically, as his cheeks glowed a strong, fierce Egyptian Blue. "Wha..?!" the mother slurred out as thick ice rods go from her mauve, flower print dress into her elbows, rendering her unable to strike the child. Elisedd lowered his hand down to the floor and freezed her feet to the aged, pine floor. "Be free, Cynthia." he said, looking at the abused girl with a tone of relief. "Don't you DARE touch MY daughter!" her mother barked at Elisedd, who promptly turns around and glided his fingers over her lips, causing a pattern of ice to form, silencing her. He walks downstairs to see the father hugging Cynthia, who just blankly looks at the floor. "Thank you." the father whispered. "Be at ease now, Tegid." Elisedd replied, sympathetically. "How.. Do you know my name?" the gang disperse into the kitchen as Fychan said "Oh you know, magic." Felix is quick to follow.
"Did you hurt her?" he asked, staring at Elisedd. "I would never harm a mother of children, Felix. I merely demonstrated that she should not abuse her progeny." Elisedd reassured. "I'll thaw her out before we go." Cystennin said, fleetingly as he focuses on Fychan's work on opening the Starstone. "Hey! It's what you were looking at on the computer." Felix inquires, pointing at the stone, his finger narrowly missing it. "Yes it is, please don't take this the wrong way but, uh, no touching." Fychan said, pushing Felix's finger back down. "Should he be watching?" Gethin asked Aelhaearn, cautiously. "He's seen what we can do, this will be nothing he can't handle." Aelhaearn stated, confident in the child's ability to understand the power and technology that Ceidwaid possessed. With delicate movements, Fychan guided his fingers over the panels of the Starstone.
"That outta do it." Fychan said as the final piece is activated. The top of this hexagonal bipyramid contraption opens, much like a flower in bloom during the Spring season. Faint dust particles drop to the floor as a strong green light is emitted. An old, dry male voice spoke out in a robotic tone. "Name, sect and number." Aelhaearn scoots forward and replied, clearly and slowly. "Aelhaearn. Cambrian Sect, one-four-zero-zero." the Starstone beeped twice before the voice returned "Welcome back, Aelhaearn. Connecting to network." thousands upon thousands of data files pop up in a holographic reality around the group "Starstone, access location of the Seren Gwyn." Aelhaearn asked, his voice heavy with anticipation. A map of the Earth appears and began rotating. "Seren Gwyn located. Current location: Aberdeen, Scotland." the voice said before Aelhaearn sighed. "Looks like its off to Scotland..."
The dim flames of the row of candles light up the dark, deep Victorian-era basement. The cold stones that make up the wall seemed to be ready to fall onto the dusty brick flooring. Beams of thin light shoot out of the boarded up planks of damp, mouldy wood. This basement is cut off from the outside world, with good reason. In the middle of the room stood a dark granite table. Cracked thrones from deposed Kings and Queens, fixed with precious jewels such as citrine, emeralds and cornelian, amongst others. At the rear of the basement stood a sacrificial altar, made of clay and decorated with a red, velvet cloth with golden trimming. On the side of the altar, faint streaks of blood are smeared down, leading towards a collection pan. Attached to the backwall, was the most obvious and disturbing item in this basement. The Sigil of Baphomet carved in pure obsidian.
A figure walked down the stairs, his face hidden by the shadow of his hood. His head seems elongated and distorted compared to his body. Behind him are six others, also draped in long cloaks carrying a hogtied man. The man's suit is stained with sweat and his muffled cries can't be heard. The light shimmered off his balding head as he's thrown onto the altar, these hooded men strap him down with strong cord, used for ship anchors - there was no escaping this. "Proceed, Eadwig." one of the men said, sweeping his hand away from himself towards the altar. Eadwig stepped forward and removed his hand out from his robe. His earth red fingers crack and bulb up, forming a hard, brown claw of a beast. This inhuman claw dangles above the altar and onto the chest of this man. In a mere tap, the claw went into the chest cavity and ripped the heart out from its place, the man was dead.
The blood slowly dripped into the collection pan as one by one, the hooded men submerge their hands into the pool. One of them lurched back up and shuddered. After he regained his composure, he scuttled over to one of the thrones and slums down into the slowly rotting fabric. He pulled his own hood down as the light reveal two magnificent goat horns, protruding from the skull of this man, upon closer inspection however, this was no man. His skin was red and laminated with warts, boils and other gross conditions. He prized his lips open, his breathing was sharp. Branded on his forehead was an odd symbol, it appeared to be a stick with two flicks coming off the top, like wings of birds. This symbol was lumpy, black as coal and appeared to have been burnt into the skin long ago. Another man marches up to this slumped Demon and crossed his arms and sternly stares down.
"What's the matter with you then, Eadwig?" this Demon asked, in a hollow, uncaring tone. "I have felt such pungent anger, it's insatiable!" the slumped demon barked. "You felt a similar disturbance when your little pooch in the cave was picked apart, didn't you Ælfric?" Eadwig asked. Ælfric lowered his hood and sat next to Eadwig, he bore the same skin tone and skin lesions as Eadwig but with a few differences, his horns were swooped downwards, like a Ram and his head was marked with a symbol representing an F but with the spokes slopped downwards. "There's only one set of 'people' who would be foolish enough to proceed into that cave." Ælfric said bitterly, almost expressing sadness over the destruction of his reanimated hound. "They couldn't have possibly escaped the dark land." Eadwig said, his forefinger places on his lip as he began to deeply think. "It is possible." His mind told him
"Can you track this anger?" Ælfric asked, to receive a gurning look from Eadwig. "Don't treat me as nothing more than a sniffer dog!" He shouted, causing the others to look over in attention. "Apologies," he replied begrudgingly. "I just want to find them quickly." he continued. "And what makes you think that we can defeat them?" Eadwig asked, skeptical of his consociate's desire. "I like to think that we know them better than anyone. Plus, they've been trapped for almost five hundred years, they'll be weak, exhausted. Ripe for the picking." Ælfric replied, his voice echoed with lust, whilst comparing them to nothing more than summer fruits. Eadwig rose from his ill-gotten throne and dropped his cloak onto the cracked back rest. "Shall we start then?" he asked, clicking his neck into position. "Why not." Ælfric replied while getting up. They stand near the doorway of the basement, arms extended, they exhale before their skin starts bubbling up. By their Demonic power, they change into the bodies of Fychan and Gethin respectively and leave the building.
A familiar purple portal rips open, a few yards away from the Aberdeen Airport. The stars danced around the midnight sky as the Moon shined down, providing the gang with the light they need. Aelhaearn and Bedwyr stepped through first. "I can't see anyone out here, sir." Bedwyr said, scanning around cautiously. While they carried with them no evil intentions, everything about them gave off a paranormal illusion, and with it - fear. Fychan came stumbling through the portal, sweating and paler than a corpse. "Are you feeling okay?" Bedwyr asked with concern, grabbing Fychan's arm and assisting in steadying him. His forehead was now beeding up with sweat. "It's the exhaustion. He's gone without replenishing for a while, the strain of using psionics all the time has taken it's toll." Bedwyr quickly concluded, reaching into his tattered rucksack. "I hope I've still got some.." he said, muttering beneath his breath.
After chucking several bits of tools out, he finally reached a black, silk bag. He undid the lace and reaches in to grab a crystal. He pulled out a small lump of Kunzite and makes a fist. With a quick flash of brown light from his cheeks, a loud crunch is heard. He opened his palm and the former light purple crystal is now a small pile of dust. He brusheed his hands quickly into a small decanter and passed it to Fychan. "Down the hatch." he said soothingly. Fychan barely grabs hold of the decanter and opens the top, in a few seconds he necked down the powder. "Blech!" he cried, "I forgot how nasty this stuff tastes." Bedwyr laughed as he packs his tools back into his bag. "Just be glad I remembered." he followed up with, rising to his feet. Fychan's skin quickly reverted from a pale, sickly yellow to the normal, Caucasian skin tone. "You all good to proceed?" Aelhaearn asked, to which the group nods. "Very well, let us proceed."
Cystennin unhooked the Starstone from his belt. "Starstone, directions to the Seren Gwyn." he asked. The green light shoots up into the sky and provides a directional arrow. The group walk through the thick, tall shrubs. "That airfield looks awfully primitive." Cystennin remarked. "I could make at least.. seven improvements to make it bett-." he continued, before looking back and seeing his group look at him with a desperate face. "Right. The mission. My bad." he ended with, his face red from embarrassment. Several minutes pass "Just a few metres further..." Cystennin said, his voice thick with agony. "We've been walking all bloody night..." Dewydd moaned. "Why can't we swim?!" he continued. Gethin turns around and snaps. "Because what are the odds its going to be near a river?" seconds later however, Cystennin's voice bellowed out. "IT'S HERE!" the group rushed over to see Cystennin standing next to the River Don.
Dewydd looked at Gethin, remarkably smug. "What the odds?!" he said, in a sarcastic, almost mocking voice. The Starstone then proceeded to hover in the air, shooting out strong beams of green, alluring light onto the ground. Following this, it then stains the grass, leaving a rather odd shape behind before deactivating. "I guess this is where we dig." Cystennin remarked, picking up the Starstone. Bedwyr walked past and remarked "Dig? Pfft." He's then accompanied by Aelhaearn and Dewydd. "Ready?" Aelhaearn asked, glancing at the duo alongside him, to which they nod. "Bedwyr, begin." he said. Bedwyr stuck his arms out and activated his powers, within moments the ground beneath them begins to shake rapidly. The earth in front of them is then ripped out, revealing the roots of plants and the holes where Moles and Rabbits have traversed from. Dewydd unfurled his Trident and aims it towards the river. "I've got the water under control." he said.
The river water simply ignored the gap that's being left by the levitating dirt. "Sir that's as high as I can take it." Bedwyr said, straining a bit. "That's fine, good work." Aelhaearn said, before creating a gust of wind in his palms. He stretched his arms out to control the air around the hole. Within a few seconds, a beautiful, majestic star ship rises up from the pit. Dirt clumps just roll off as Aelhaearn glided it down into the field. Bedwyr lowered the earth back down into the hole and Dewydd lifted up his trident. "Nice work!" Aelhaearn said, congratulating his companions. Cystennin walked around the hull and examined it. "Remarkable. Not a single fault." he said to Aelhaearn, gleefully. "Gentlemen, the White Star. The Seren Gwyn." Aelhaearn said, turning to his friends. The group filled up with murmurs and appreciation - it had been far too long since they've seen it. Cystennin almost ran at the speed of light to be in first and sat down in the pilot's seat, admiring the chrome features and polished surfaces, it was time to return.
The roar of the engines filled the surrounding area. "Engines operational. Roll, pitch and yaw responding. Orders, sir?" Cystennin said, performing flight checks. "Take us to the house. We owe it to them to say our goodbyes." Aelhaearn said, sitting down in the central seat. He looked around and sees everyone strapped in, eagerly waiting. "Aye aye." Cystennin said, opening the shutters and revs the engines. The ship began gaining momentum and soared over the river. Within a few minutes they were over the Irish sea, closing in on the small, rustic retreat in Gwynedd. "I see the house, setting us down now sir." Cystennin said, pressing a button to reveal the landing gear. The ship landed in the front garden of the house. Steam gushed out as the group leave the ship. "Felix?" Fychan asked through the letterbox. "Could you please open the door?" he followed with.
The door quickly opened. Felix eyes widen at the sight of a starship in his front garden. "Is.. That what I think it is?" he enquired. Aelhaearn smiles. "Yes, yes it is." he said. Elisedd walks past. "Excuse me, I believe I have something to do." he walked upstairs and into the room to witness Tegid holding a hair dryer to his frosted wife. Elisedd laughed. "That won't work." he said, waving his hands across the mother, quickly defrosting her. "There? I told you he'd thaw you out, Anne." The father said, trying to control the woman's vehement behaviour. The pair quickly left the room and shut the door on her. "Thank you again, stranger." Tegid said, shaking Elisedd's hand. "If you excuse me, I must go see my children." Tegid followed with, walking down the hall. Elisedd smiled and leaves the hallway, walking down to the rest of the group. Tegid entered into the children's room.
"You okay?" he asked his children, Cynthia nods, still in shock and disturbance. Felix entered the room. "Dad? Is Mum okay?" he asked. "Yes son, the nice man defrosted her out." Tegid said, quickly detaching himself from the conversation to absorb what he just said. He quickly shook his head and sat Felix down. "I know I haven't always been very approving of what you wish to be. An explorer, a frontiersman... But now I realise that you have the opportunity." he said, his eyes turned red, his cheeks looked like a thunderstorm. "What do you mean, father?" The son asked. "I'm saying... pack your bags. Adventure awaits." Tegid said, smiling through the heart pain. "It's not safe here, not with her. Go with them, they'll take care of you." he finished with. "I'm not leaving without Cynthia, father." Felix said as he stared at his sister. "You can both go. I only want your safety." Tegid said before leaving the room. "No matter what, we'll love you."
The children packed their bags and walk outside their room, hugging their father. "I'll miss you." Cynthia said. "So will I." Their father replied, as he walked downstairs to ask one final favour. "Um, Mr... Uh, Aelhaearn, sir?" he stammered with. "Yes?" Aelhaearn said, quickly turning around. "Could you please... take my children and look after them for a while?" The request shook Aelhaearn - he was not a child minder, but he felt a responsibility towards the children, he did owe them something after all. "Sure." he said, "C'mon you two. On the ship." he said, looking at the empty staircase as the brother and sister rush down. "Thanks!" they said, dashing outside. "One final thing, Tegid..." Aelhaearn said, reaching in his bag. "Take this. You'll need it more than we do." he said, offering Tegid the wooden cross. "Thanks." Tegid replied with, taking it from his hand and placing it on the mantelpiece. Tegid walked outside to accompany the Ceidwaid.
Tegid held back tears, watching his children depart. He might never see them again, he waved them off. Inside the starship, Felix and Cynthia settled down in the bunks. "It's a long journey, so you may want to get some sleep." Fychan said to the pair before shutting the door and sitting down. "You do like those two, don't you?" Gethin said, sitting next to Fychan. "Well, you know I've always wanted children. I've always been good with young ones." he replied back, pondering about the possibilities. "Well there was that time in Nottingham..." Gethin said, with a mile wide grin. "Let's not talk about that." Fychan said quickly, his voice a flutter with regret and his face wore an embarrased smile. Cystennin began the launch. "Destination, sir?" Aelhaearn looked through the screen, smiled and said "Chadeirlan." The ship roared into the star scattered sky and blasted through the atmosphere. "Engaging the transit drive now." Cystennin said. The ship flashed with energy and shot off into deep space.
A lone asteroid against the abyss of space dangles precariously, looking out of place. For there was no sun nor moon. The asteroid remained still, covered with insignificant craters and large pits. A dark, earthy brown colour and four hundred kilometres in diametre, chunks of this intergalactic rock remain dotted around, spinning slowly as they twinkled away, deeper into the void of space. Continually spinning, the asteroid then reveals its beauty; its jewel in the crown. Embellished on the highest peak was a city of white marble, bright as the mid day Sun. The light that radiates from the central tower replaced any need for a sun, as it filled the rock with a warm, glowing light that embraced all. The city contained many towers that rises up. White, shining marble gothic spires alongside golden gilded pinnacles. Around the rock was a bubble, protecting this city from any astronomical bombardments and preventing any inhabitants from suffocating.
The lone silver starship spat out from Earth and roared towards the asteroid. The light overwhelmed the crew as it bathes Cystennin in its soothing light. "Chadeirlan." said Cystennin in awe, looking up from his helm to see the city. "Let's see if I still remember the access code." Fychan said, muttering at his position picking up a crude headset. He punched in some numbers on the dusty, black and red click board and holds the earphone to his ear. "This is the Seren Gwyn, requesting permission to land." Fychan said, concerned that after being missing for nigh on five hundred years, that the ship would no longer be on the register. Quickly a reply came back. "Seren Gwyn, state your affiliation and sect." the voice said, rather distant and distorted, as if it was being cloaked. Aelhaearn made a gesture for the headset, Fychan quickly complied, handing it over at a quick pace, they can't stall here.
"Chadeirlan, this is Cambrian Sect one-four-zero-zero. Requesting permission to land." Aelhaearn said enthusiastically. The voice came back, clearer and without distortion. "Cambrian Sect, you are clear for landing." A small hatch tube opens on the underside of the asteroid, Cystennin whizzed the ship in through the seemingly endless dark, rocky catacombs that rest beneath the city floor. A second door opens, leading into a large hanger bay. "Landing sequence set, sir." Cystennin said, squeezing past the rather cramped cockpit. "It's been a while, huh?" Bedwyr said, extremely casual to Aelhaearn. This was a moment of happiness, once again their eyes were cast upon the city. Faintly heard were the klaxons, blaring as the secondary door slid shut. The hydralics steadily turned on as the service arms latched onto the hull. The steam hissed out of the vent as the door slides open. "I shall alert the children that we're here." Fychan stated, practically half way to the door.
"Children, we're here." Fychan said, looking at the siblings who are in shock of where they are. "How far are we from home?!" Cynthia said, with her jaw almost scrapping on the bottom of the floor. "Give or take forty-five thousand light-years." Fychan said, rather unimpressed at the number, he's travelled larger distances, this is the Ceidwaid equivalent of a Sunday drive. "Please watch your step and stay close." Fychan bent down and spoke, "This is not a place to go wandering off in." "Yes sir." the siblings speak, they realised that ignoring his advice would be foolish in a place like this. The group walk out of the ship and onto a steel gangway. This gangway wraps its way around the entire hanger cavern and provides access to all ships. A vast network of ladders and hydralic arms rest in the gaps of the path. "Please excuse me, I need to go see our overseer." Aelhaearn said. "We'll head to the Chadeirlan." Fychan said, overcome with excitement.
After several minutes of walking and bustling past others, the group finally reached the Chadeirlan. A grand cathedral, stretching up as far as the eye could see. Giant pillars commemorating deeds of heroes and saints split up the wall of stained glass, depicting Biblical scenes in full glory. Choir songs and tunes can be heard, bellowing out of the grand doors. Inside stands a large, pure golden cross, shining brightly as the light catches off it. Inside the marble dome was a giant crystal, glowing intensely. "What's that?" Felix murmurs quietly. "That's the Yssor, a crystal that powers this place, divine in nature." Fychan said, admiring it from afar. "It's beautiful." Cynthia and Felix say, in awe-struck synchronicity. "It is." Aelhaearn said, appearing behind them, startling all but Gethin. "Pfft, three thousand years you've known each other and you still get scared?" he said, rather smug. Disregarding that, Felix asked the group. "What are you exactly?"
"Well, as you know we're Ceidwaid - keepers. But it's more complex than that," Aelhaearn said, pacing by the arched entrance of the Chadeirlan. "We're three thousand years old and immortal. We've given our lives in service to the Lord to protect against evil in this part of the galaxy." "Are you alien?" Cynthia asked curiously. "I mean it would explain the powers and the starship." Fychan chuckled. "No child, we're just as human - and Welsh - as you. We've seen the rise and fall of the Temple of Solomon, the building of Rome and the birth of Buddha." he answered with. "Our mission is to protect against evil and ensure there is always balance in the world... Sadly not all agreed with our views." Aelhaearn said, his voice trailing off with specks of sorrow. "How do you mean? What happened?" Felix asked, curiously. Slowly everyone starts leaving the Chadeirlan but Elisedd provides an answer. "We lost."
The group arrived at a plaza and sits down on a bench. "Aelhaearn, do you want to play the story teller or should I?" Fychan asked, preparing to tell the tale of the most tragic loss. Aelhaearn merely nods towards Fychan who cleared his throat. "March 22nd, 537 AD. Eifionydd..." Fychan said, beginning the tale. The thick, wide river of Camlann spans the horizon. Fields of thick, green grass, previously being worked on by serfs lay abandoned, tools scattered. In the distance, marching over from the church in Abererch was the pennant of the white dragon. The Saxons come. In the near by village of Pwllheli, two men in armour look across the lake. "How's the hand treating you?" the first man asked, sounding concerned. "It's fine Cystennin, you really did wonders making a replacement." the second said, revealing himself to be Bedwyr. "How many are there..." Cystennin said, his voice trembled in fear. "At least two thousand. We better tell the King." Bedwyr said, as the two walk back to the near by tent.
"I'll go in myself, Cys." Bedwyr said, walking through a field filled with tents. The biggest one dressed with red and green trimming, this was the King's tent. Bedwyr pulls the flap to the left and walked in. "Sire." he said, bowing his head, a man in golden armour, black hair and a long silver sword on his waist turns to greet Bedwyr. "Sir Bedwyr, how may I help?" the man in armour asked. "You don't need to bow before me, we're all equals, remember? And stop with that sire nonsense, please." he continued. Bedwyr sharply raises his head and releases himself from his stiff position. "Arthur, there's over two thousand of them. There's four hundred of us." Bedwyr voiced his concerns to King Arthur. "So this is it then. My own Son, Medrod decides to side with the Pagans who have no compassion for life." Arthur said bitterly, putting on his helmet. "Peredur's hunting for the grail and Myrddin's making preparations if this goes wrong. As per your word, Arthur." Bedwyr said, stepping out the tent.
Aelhaearn stood in his own armour, next to the rest of the group. "Is it time?" Bedwyr asked as Aelhaearn nods, he accompanied them to a shaded wall near the back of the village. "Now, Bedwyr, do you have the position of Arthur's men? We mustn't interfere with the main army directly." Aelhaearn stated before proceeding. "Yes Sir, they'll be crossing the river and leaving a contingent of archers by the trees." Bedwyr said, pulling out a rough map and pointing on it. "Very well. Let us begin." the group formed a circle and close their eyes. They chant in a language not known to man as a white aura drains from them, creating figures in front of them. The group open their eyes and witness the spectral forms before them, Aelhaearn asked. "Do you know your purpose?" a collection of ghostly moans are heard as the word "Yes." is heard, they slowly take a physical form. "Very well. It's time to begin." Aelhaearn said, as the group march on.
The penant of King Arthur sways boldy in the noon sky, the red dragon marches onwards. The armies march over the river and onto the fields to do battle, while the copies of the Ceidwaid snuck off to damage to flank of the Saxons. In the midst of their ranks, however, an old man sensed deception. He pulled out a small crystal ball, chipped and cracked, it starts to glow red. "Sssso.. They ssseek to ussse deception." The Seer muttered, slithering off to hide behind a small mound of grass, slowly but surely the copies appear. The Seer pulled out a small glass vial filled with some awful concoction, red liquid and black chunks of some organic material. As the copies get closer to the camp, they continue to become more organic, no longer being fully spectral. Now was the chance for the Seer. "Foolssss!" the Seer shouted, throwing the vial with a vigorous throw. The copies of the Ceidwaid hit the ground unconscious. "Now what to do with you?" the Seer said, laughing as he packed them onboard a cart and escaped the battle.
The armies of the Britons clashed quickly against the Saxons. Ravens and crows circle the field, overcome with anticipation to scavage the remains of the brave men. The clash of steel against steel echoes through the field, the sound of arrows flutter through the air like buzzing gnats in the summer time. The battle went well at first for the Britons, taking out a third of the forces fairly quickly. But as time loomed on, the battle was slowly becoming lost. The sound of war horns filled the plains as the Saxons rushed forward, across the river. "Now Dewydd!" Aelhaearn shouted as the water level rose from the river, crashing into the chainmailed ranks of the Saxons, it sent them fleeing. "Nice work." Aelhaearn said, dashing past Dewydd, sending arrows into the retreating Saxons. "Elisedd, where's the charge?" Aelhaearn said to Elisedd, who is looking out across the battlefield.
"I do not see them, nor their corpses." he said, worried. Their copies should've arrived by now on cavalry. The battle raged on, it was becoming apparent that the Saxons would unlawfully win. But Arthur was not one to be defeated easily. As the hours ticked by, his men held out but surely the Britons were to be eventually defeated. Aelhaearn ripped his helmet off. "We must break our code. We must intervene directly." those who followed his word mimicked him, one by one the feathered plumes atop of the polished, silver helmets fell into the bloody mud. "Onwards!" he cried, rushing across the bridge, with sword, trident and bow in the air. The Ceidwaid's true appearance gave the Britons a morale boost, pushing up to the mound to which Arthur was fighting on. As the Britons got closer, it was apparent that who it was exactly that the King was fighting.
A ring formed around Arthur and Medrod while they fought. Although the Britons and Saxons continued to fight. Their numbers wore thin, thanks to the intervention of the Ceidwaid, it was now an even battle. Swords inched closer to the skin, one blow knocks Arthur's helmet and it rolls towards the Ceidwaid, jostled in the crowd, as they slaughteed any Saxon who denied them passage. However it would be a futile effort. The clanging of steel gets louder, when suddenly Medrod dodges an otherwise fatal blow and impales Arthur in the stomach, he quickly ripping his sword out. The crunch of steel being bent hollowed out throughout the air, along with the squelch of blood and flesh. Medrod turned around to celebrate to his men, but Arthur, in his dying strength picked up Caledfwlch one last time and swung at the legs of his illegitimate son, depriving him of walking. Unlike Arthur, Medrod died almost instantly. One by one the soldiers die, leaving only the Ceidwaid.
Bedwyr rushes over to Arthur. "I-I failed you! Damnit!" he cried out, mournfully. "Do not weep for me, my friend. I just have one last favour, brave knight, take me to Afallon." Arthur asked, his eyes fading from this world. "I can open a portal." said Fychan. Aelhaearn helps Bedwyr carry Arthur. "Do it." he said as a portal erupts in front of them. "Me and Cystennin will stay behind, to look for survivors." Elisedd said, waving them off. On the banks of Llyn Glaslyn, a small boat with the rest of the knights known to Arthur and one additional man sit on the boat. "This is my father, Cadwaladr." said Dewydd. "He's an exceptional healer and will take care of you all." he continues. "Peredur.. Di-did you find it?" Arthur asked his compatriot, who recently returned. "I did indeed." Peredur said, who then revealed a golden chalice before hiding it again. "This boat shall take you to Afallon." Bedwyr said, helping Arthur in. "I couldn't have done this without any of you, but Bedwyr... I'll return in the darkest hour of Prydain..." Arthur said, hauntingly as the ship sails away, down the river.
"Are you okay?" Aelhaearn asked a distraught Bedwyr, as he tosses Caledfwlch into the lake and walks through the portal, quietly. However as they exit, they're greeted with Elisedd and Cystennin, holding a short-ish man with dirty skin in chains. "Who's this?" Aelhaearn asked examining the man's face, noticing several cracks on his cheeks. "I have no name, sire." he groaned weakly. "We found him amongst the dead on the Saxon side. Yet he does not talk like them." Elisedd said, holding back the struggling slave. "Slave?" Bedwyr asked, patching the newcomer's injuries up. "Yes." said the slave. "Yourself?" he wheezed out. "Oh, you'll know soon enough." Aelhaearn said with reservations. He drags Bedwyr back. "So? Is he?" Aelhaearn asked. "He bears the markings, yes. But the Saxons seem to have converted him to Paganism." Bedwyr said "Not exactly a good place to start." He follows with. "Slave, to your feet. Your name to us shall be... Gethin." Aelhaearn said, as he smashed the chain with his power over air. "Now, you may run away or follow us forever more."
"So that is the story on our darkest hour." Fychan said to the children. "Wow... I didn't even think Arthur was real." Felix said, in awe. "So, Gethin, you were a sl-" Cynthia asked, quickly getting cut off. "A slave, yes." Gethin said, his head low in shame and his voice slow. "What happened next?" Felix asked as the group gets up to walk around. "We spent a few hundred years fighting around the world, trying to right our wrongs, until eventually we were caught. I lasted the longest." Fychan said, "Even found a way to update Aelhaearn while he was in Tirhedu." he continued, walking through the lush gardens of this metropolis. "And what of your copies?" Cynthia said, quickly having a hand placed over her mouth. "Shh. You can never talk about them." Cystennin said, releasing his hand. "Why not?" Cynthia asked, curiously and splashed with shock.
"After the battle, we discovered they were kidnapped by a Saxon Seer, then they were taken to the capital of Mercia - Tamworth." Fychan said. "There they were broken, reduced. They only have half our strength so they didn't last long. Then they were... corrupted. Mutiliated." said Fychan, as he opened a door to the archives. "The seer broke them down and infused them with their own power. We never saw the seer but rumours had eventually surfaced he was some form of Satanist." Fychan ended with. "So what are your powers, exactly?" Felix asked in curiosity, looking around the splendor of the archives. Bookcases as high as the ceiling, information kiosks all around and stainless steel vault doors down each aisle. "Well, each of us get our own power. It's either decided at birth or created through immense training." Gethin said, looking at the weapon cases. "So we could possibly gain powers?" Cynthia asked with a large grin on her face.
"If you're devout enough." Gethin said with a smile. "My personal power is the ability to control the shadows and the dark." continued Gethin, rarely turning his head from the glass cases. "Mine, as you know, is the ability utilise Psionics; meaning I can move objects and teleport." Fychan said as Elisedd pips up. "I have power over snow and ice. And I can ski pretty well." he said. "Forgetting that time in Italy, Elisedd?" Cystennin said before turning to the siblings. "I have the power of fire and to a lesser extent, magma." he ends with, getting a scour from Elisedd. "My power is over the earth itself. I can control rocks and the greenery." Bedwyr said, causing a plant to pop out of its pot. "As if the trident wasn't enough to tell you, I control water." Dewydd said as Aelhaearn enters the room. "And I have the power over air and can fly." "Yeah but, you still can't teleport, sir." Fychan said, assuredly.
Dewydd looked up at a painting on the wall. "Who's that?" the children ask. "My grandfather, Llŷr." he said, taking his trident out. "This belonged to him, it's been passed down through three generations..." he said, admiring the golden prongs. "Wanna hold it?" he said, offering it to the siblings. "If you don't mind!" he hands it to Felix and noticed Aelhaearn summoning him across the hall. "Excuse me, please don't drop it." Dewydd said, walking over to Aelhaearn. "What's up sir?" he asked. "It's about your father." Aelhaearn said, hesitantly. "What about him sir?" Dewydd asked, concerned. "He's... Dead." Aelhaearn replies, regretfully. "I found his coffin in the cave with the Starstone. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. There was also this." he said, handing over a tattered, worn piece of paper over to Dewydd. "I'm so sorry." he finished with, leaving him be to read the letter alone. He rips the seal off and unfurled the beige, stained paper.
"Dearest son, if you are reading this then I have probably joined my Fathers. I want you firstly to know that, Arthur and his men are still safe at this time of writing and I have instructed someone more confident in their abilities to look over them. I cannot say where Ynys Afallon for there is a danger you will never see this, Dewydd. This is the year 1872 - century of the British Empire. I have found the Starstone in my five year period of wandering aimlessly throughout the world and have enclosed it in this cave, it will be safe here, this cave that'll be my tomb. For I am dying, my only regret is that I could not see who you have become, but I do know this. Whatever you are, wherever you are, I will be eternally proud.
- Cadwalader."
A single tear drop rolled from Dewydd's eye and dripped onto the paper.
Dewydd wipes away the tears forming on his cheeks, this is not the time to get emotional. He had to remain professional. He flicked the small droplet off his father's letter and folded it back up to tuck into his pocket. Coughing once or twice to clear the catch in his throat, he walked out of the room and walked up to the siblings. "Pretty good, isn't it?" he said, pointing at his trident before making a gesture to have it returned. "Yeah!" they said, in childish glee while passing it over. He takes the trident off them and slides it into the holster on his back. "That reminds me, I need to go I'm afraid. Something we need to do. You'll be okay here, won't you?" he asked, slightly distracted from the situation, staring off into space. The children look to each other, with eyebrows perched. "Sure." they said hesitantly and prolonged. "What could it be?" they pondered.
"Great!" Dewydd said, quickly snapping back to the moment before running off down the hall to a thick, titanium door with all sorts of cogs and steel threaded track to the side, barely visible. Out of breath and visibly exhausted, Dewydd slumped against the door, trying to catch his breath. He reached for a small box, with black highlights around the edges. After applying some pressure onto the edges, it pops open and swings to the side, revealing an futuristic keypad. He gazes upon the twelve red buttons, each with a number or a symbol on it. He pressed six of them in a random sequence. A few seconds pass and a loud hiss echoes out throughout the library and a few lights above the door start flashing in red. The door pops forward and slides over to the right. He steps through the threshold of this vault and looks around, the lights quickly turned on.
"You took your time." Gethin said, quickly uncloaking in front of Dewydd. Dewydd reply to him, just pushed him gently to one side. "Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?" Gethin quickly asked, concerned he offended his friend. Aelhaearn's arm sticks out in front of the pursuing Gethin, he does not speak, merely shakes his head before closing his arm again. This wasn't the time to go annoying Dewydd. Everyone sat down on a silver pew, finished with black cushions. "Nervous?" asked Bedwyr, who slided close to Aelhaearn. "Why? That our boss is about to give us a right old bollo-" he doesn't have time to finish his sentence, the interior door opens. The clanking of a walking stick pounded the reinforced floor with every step followed by the faintly audible sound of a suit shuffling. The walking stick reared its head out of the dark doorway, wooden and finished with gold. This was a high status cane, fixed with a dragon head.
A man in a snow white suit steps out of the dark with medium length white hair and a blue eye patch. "Took you long enough." he sneered in a gruff, almost gravelly voice. "Sorry sir.." Aelhaearn said, his head fixed to the ground, bowing in front of the figure. "So, I read Fychan's report. That explains why nearly everyone else on Earth went missing at that time." The light catches the man's head and quickly flashes upon cheeks, revealing his brifen. A strong, thick bunch of vines, for he was the Ceidwaid of Lystyfiant - Vegetation. "But that's not why I called you here and you know it." he continued, pacing back and forth. "First things first. The children. You know you aren't meant to bring mortals here. But, given the report. It's understandable. You're still in the dog house. Make sure you take them home soon." he said, giving a particular stare at Fychan.
"The second - and more important - reason I've called you here is the Hadle. You say you think you've encountered a machination of theirs?" he asked as he halted his pacing and standing in front of the pew. Aelhaearn rose up to speak, being dwarved by their boss. He had forgotten just how tall he was. "Amaethon, sir. We found one of their favourite toys, a Carbyw, in a cave guarding the Starstone, they lured us there." Amaethon looks worried. "And what became of their little toys?" he asked, his voice trailing. "We destroyed them, but they were modern. The clay was fresh." Fychan said, stood up also. "So they ARE planning something. We've had our eye on Earth for a while, making sure that the Lord's paradise wouldn't get too infected by the weeds." he said, his voice now thick with zeal. "Ceidwaid. You've got one objective. Return to Earth, occupy it and start cleansing it." he said, a smile forming at the tips of his mouth. "Yes sir!" they shout, now all standing.
The group walk to the set of lockers behind them, this was their dormitory in a previous time. They were different to the lockers here on Earth however, these were locked with biometric finger print scanners and the volume was thrice as large. Aelhaearn pulled out a polished, golden helmet, with his brifen shape cut out in the cheek areas. "It's been a while since I've seen this." he said to himself, putting it to one side as he stepped in the locker, alongside the rest of this majestic golden armour. A few minutes pass and as one, the group step out of the lockers. Their armour shined brightly in the light from the overhead lamps. "Now that's the men I remember sending off." Amaethon remarked, still standing at the other end of the room. "Good luck." he said, lifting his cane to face level and dips it towards the group. He turned around and walked back into the shadows. The Ceidwaid lined up and march out of the door, holding tight to their weapons.
The door slides open and the eavesdropping siblings slammed down on the floor. "Uh... It's not what it looks like." Cynthia said, redfaced and nervous. Elisedd picked both of them up, displaying his flawless strength. "Sure." he said, putting them upright. "You need to come with us now, I'm afraid." Fychan said, sternly. "All we did was listen in! We couldn't even hear much!" Felix pleaded, believing he's in deep trouble. "Relax. We have to return to Earth and you have to come with us." Aelhaearn said, reassuring the anxious child. The siblings breath a quick sigh of relief before following them back to the ship. "So what's up?" Cynthia asked, trying to drill for information. The group remains silent, focused purely on the mission ahead. They reach the Seren Gwyn and assume their positions aboard the ship. "Cystennin, you know the location." Aelhaearn said as leant forward in his chair, dripping with trepidation. The ship blasted away from the station.
Upon the banks of grass opposite the house of the sibling's family however, stood death and darkness. Two men, each in a black silk cloak with red trimmings marched across the wheat fields, getting closer to the house. It was dusk, the Sun was eclipsing behind the smoke gushing chimney, an average late spring evening. "Don't mess this up, Ælfric." Eadwig said, full of hostility. They reach the door and knock heavily on the door, so heavily it causes the letter box to shake. The door swings open and a tired Tegid looks up. "Oh. Hello Fychan, and you Gethin!" he said, none the wiser to the trickery and invites them in. Their cloaks drag across the wooden floor and they stand side by side. "How are the kids?" Tegid asked, concerned for his children. The Hadles hadn't expected this. Ælfric let's out a strained groan. "They're... fine." he said, unconvincingly. Tegid raises an eyebrow as Eadwig sits down to his side. While they make small talk, Ælfric shuffles over to the cross. "Pathetic." he said with a voice of disgust, crushing it into pieces as he turns around.
"So, Eadwig. Shall we?" Ælfric asked, causing Tegid to get up and look at the duo. "Who?" he asked, slowly reaching for the bottle of wine to use as a club. Ælfric and Eadwig laugh and laugh as their skin ripples into their true, demonic form. "AH!" shrieked out Tegid, his heart pounding from fear. "That's it. Scream!" Eadwig demanded as he grasps Tegid by the throat and tossed him against a support beam. "You tie him up, I'll get his wife." Ælfric said, storming upstairs and smashing down doors. Eadwig quickly tied up the overwhelmed Tegid, moments later, Anne was dragged downstairs, practically kicked down the last few steps. Blam! She falls to her knees, bruising them instantly. "Keep screaming!" Ælfric shouts, tying up Anne. "I'll get the fuel." Eadwig yelled, shouting over the screams. Eadwig walked into the kitchen and starts throwing things out of the cupboard. "Finally." he grumbled to himself, pulling out a jerry can. He walked towards the hostages, the can sloshed with every step.
He flipped open the cap and starts pouring a trail at the bottom of their feet. He walked around the kitchen and the living room to maximise the burn before going up stairs. The pale yellow liquid drips down the stairs and begins to form puddles. A few minutes pass and Tegid and his wife's screams just fall silent. "Come on Ælfric, let's wait in the fields. Those fools always rush to the rescue." Eadwig said, striking a match and tossing it behind him. "Hwyl fawr." he laughed mockingly, shutting the door behind him. The flames licked the feet of the hostages. It seemed as if a grim future awaited them. Ælfric and Eadwig perch down in the wheat field near by, going over the plan. "Just remember, Fychan's the strongest. If I take care of Gethin, you sneak up behind Fychan and deal with him. A quick bash to the head will do." Eadwig said, using rather crude terminology. "Just don't mess it up, Eadwig. You've never been good at stealth." Ælfric said bitterly.
The ship was quiet. The only sounds were the heavy breathing of an anxious crew and the various bleeps and chirps of the computers. "Let us begin." Aelhaearn said, almost in a trance like state. Cystennin pulled himself back from the pilot station and pulls out a small, light brown twig, wrapped in a red coating. "What's that?" Felix asked curiously as Fychan answers, also in a monotonic voice. "Dragon's Blood incense. The Pagans believe it brings strength and courage, along with potency to their 'spells'" Fychan informs Felix while closing his eyes. "Wouldn't that be considered blasphemous?" Cynthia asked, becoming intrigued in the matter. "Not at all. It's merely a tradition and a fragrance." Fychan replies back, taking a deep breath. "Now, I don't wish to offend but we require quiet now." he continued. Felix and Cynthia bow respectfully before walking out of the cockpit.
Cystennin holds the stick inbetween his index and middle fingers and stares at it, in a few mere seconds it ignites and the smoke fills the cabin. In perfect synchronization, they all close their eyes and place their hands together. Felix and Cynthia peer around the corner of the cabin door and watch with an insatiable curiosity. The group begin chanting in a strange language as their brifens glow in their respective colours. The chanting goes on for what seems hours, they were in a deep trance. When one chant seems to have finished, another quickly flared up! "They must be deep in pray or something." Cynthia remarked, quiet as a mouse under her breath when suddenly she turns. "Felix!" she squeaked. "Your face... It's bleeding!" Felix hand shook violently, it was uncontrollable, his body was no longer his own. He managed to reach up to his cheek and touch it. "It's hard as a r-rock." he splutters, trying to keep as quiet as he could.
The chanting finished, in perfect harmony they lift their heads up. Cystennin slides back into the pilot chair and extinguished the incense and everyone goes back to their duties. Too shocked to even ask for help, Felix kept shaking in the corner of the door, his pale blood turned dark. It dripped continually on the floor, leaving a strong, metallic smell. Bedwyr's face scrunched a bit as he inhaled. "I can smell..." he mulled, sniffing the air. "Ichor." he span around in his chair, looking out the back to see the trembling feet of Felix and Cynthia, weakly holding her brother up while shaking herself. "Fychan! Quick!" Bedwyr said, pouncing out of his seat and almost throwing Cynthia back. "I'll take Felix to the medical bay, you guide Cynthia!" Bedwyr demanded, his status as the team's medic gives him immunity from having his authority challenged in these matters. "What's happening to us?!" Cynthia said, her cheeks slowly breaking up too.
They quickly entered the dusty medical room. "I hope you guys don't have asthma!" Fychan jokes, pulling his undershirt up to cover his nose. Quickly reaching into the cupboards, Bedwyr looted around the room, ripping off sheets of cloth and opening bottles of water. He quickly wiped the blood away from Felix's face, revealing it had swollen up. He glances over to see how Cynthia was doing only to see the same reaction. "Bedwyr, what is it? Allergies?" Fychan asked, carrying serious concern in his voice. "This is no allergy I've seen!" Bedwyr replied back, squelching out dollops of anti-inflammatory cream on bandages. "Put this around Cynthia, please." he hands it over. Quickly wrapping up the siblings, Bedwyr makes a hasty decision. "Put this mask on." he said, dropping down two plastic masked, the siblings comply, gasping in pain with each movement. "I can feel fear.. so much of it, it's intoxicating!" Felix cried out, placing it on his face. Quickly gas gushes out and puts them out cold.
" 'I can feel fear' " Fychan reflected. "What can that mean?" Bedwyr asked as a worried look creeps on Fychan's face. "It can't be... No, no. Hasn't been for nearly 1,500 years. What drugs did you give them?" he asked, cutting around the question. "Nothing that would make them 'feel fear' - what's going on Fy?" he said, sternly answering the question and continuing to demand information. Fychan wouldn't provide. "Nothing, I'm sure there's a logical explanation will appear to us soon." he tries to leave the room but is blocked promptly by Bedwyr's arm. "Another thing. Back at the cave, Aelhaearn said you had injuries. I need to see." he states, making a swivelling gesture with his spare arm. "Well, unless you're going to crack open my skull, you won't see it." Fychan replied back, curtly. "Hm?" Bedwyr said under his breath. "When I was in Tirhedu, as you know it's customised to the inhabitants. I learnt... so much. I learnt everything there was, is and to be. I saw the end of time and the rebirth, I've seen suffering and pain. It broke me. My wounds are burnt into grey matter, my friend." Fychan said, slipping out of the room. "It broke me." he finished with.
"Final approach sir. We're Earthbound in ten." Cystennin said, looking back and seeing Bedwyr and Fychan, stained with sweat and blood. "Is everything okay?" Aelhaearn asked worriedly. "They're stable, but I don't think everything is alright." Bedwyr said dramatically, looking out of the viewport. Cystennin begins to twitch, his eyes water. Deep inside his head, a screaming voice resonated. "Go to the house!" Cystennin felt that he had lost control of his body, his arms became mere extensions of a puppet. He lost the ability to talk. A slight nudge of the control stick put the starship on a different course, subtle enough that the crew would not notice. Cystennin felt a great whooshing sound as he regained full control. However, despite knowing full well he was used as a tool of this voice, he didn't make a single effort to tell his comrades or alter the course. They must be needed at the house. "In the atmosphere now." he alerted the crew.
The Seren Gwyn shines brightly as it hurtles through the thick clouds of Earth. Spat out in the cloudless sky above the fields near the house. "Uh, Cystennin? We're off course." Aelhaearn said, leaning towards him before looking out of the viewport, witnessing the burning house. "Nevermind, quick landing!" he shouted, rising from his seat. "They must be here!" Aelhaearn said, grabbing his bow. The ship lands abruptly, dragging the dirt and the crops up. "Sir I'll stay here and guard the children in case something happens." Gethin said, drawing his dagger and spinning it around in a clockwise fashion. The hissing of gas vibrates around the ship as the the hatch is lowered. One by one the Ceidwaid march out, clutching their weapons as they stomp through the fields. "Dewydd, Elisedd. Put out the house fire. Cystennin, you're with me. Bedwyr, Fychan, watch our flanks." Aelhaearn states, continuing the quick march.
Elisedd kicked down the door, flames gushed out. "I see Tegid! Right by the door. Stand back!" Dewydd quickly rushed to the door. "I'll extinguish, you ice it. Got it?" he asked as he pulled out his trident, quickly extinguishing the flames with violent gushes of water. "Now!" Dewydd shouts above the roaring fire, a giant wall of ice skirts around Dewydd, holding off the flames. Elisedd froze the basin of the wooden pillar as Dewydd's trident pierces it. "We can carry them back to the ship." Elisedd said, carrying them backwards. "Bedwyr! With us!" Dewydd shouts, rushing past him. Bedwyr complied, lives are on the line. However, a single man lurks out from behind the burning house, he pulled out a knife and lurks up behind Fychan, however he cloaked too late and is spotted. "Oh no you don't." Gethin mutted as he jumped off the roof the ship. His power over the shadows allows him to see shadow lurkers. "Oi! Over here." he shouted with a whistle, summoning an orb in-between his arms. "Oh cra-" Eadwig, the cloaked man said to himself.
Wham! A giant orb of darkness propelled Eadwig backwards, thrown into the house timbers "Ælfric damnit! Do it now!" he pleaded, pealing himself off the wall. Suddenly Ælfric pops up holding a sword, he charged at Cystennin who reacts, quickly burning the wheat, forcing Ælfric back. "At last we meet again." Aelhaearn said, stirring the wind around him. "I've gotten more powerful since last we met." he mocked, spitting acid at the feet of Aelhaearn, missing spectacularly. "Bravo(!)" Cystennin said, swinging his hammer. The roar of powers, the molestation of the natural order takes place. Acid, fire, wind, darkness coliding in a spectacular fight alongside the clash of steel and the bravado of men. Suddenly, a screech is heard. The screams of Eadwig fill the ears of all around, causing the battle to stop from the agony of his yowling. He was on the floor, almost ripping what hair he had out. "Make it stop!" he pleaded. Gethin stumbled over, holding his dagger towards his throat. He wasn't orchestrating this. Who was? He turned around sharply to see the siblings, in some anger-filled trance with their arm extended, their cheeks glowing black.
"No. It can't be." Gethin said to himself, witnessing this strange power. "Felix? Cynthia?" he asked, eyebrow perched as he approached them. The mention of their voice forces them out of this trance. "Gethin? W-we're home?" Cynthia mumbled. "Yes, Cynthia. You a-" Gethin said, before being cut off "LOOK OUT!" Felix cried out, Eadwig stumbling behind him with a rock. However this was indeed, a futile effort as he is struck down by several purple crystals. "Thanks Fy." Gethin said, turning his shoulder and head. "No problem." Fychan said, kicking the unconscious body of Eadwig. Ælfric looks on in dumbstruck awe before snapping back to the reality. "Gah! We'll meet again soon, Ceidwaid!" he shouted, throwing down acid behind him to stop them following him. "What now sir?" Cystennin asked. "Target practice." grinned Aelhaearn, turning around and pulling out a sole arrow. "The wind after all," he said, pulling the string back. "Is perfect." Fooh! The string let back and the arrow soared through the air, impaling the fleeing Ælfric. "C'mon, let's get that Saxon swine." Aelhaearn said, hopping over the acid.
However by the time they had got to the site, Ælfric was gone. Eadwig however, wasn't. "We'll take care of him. Unfortunately our boss is a bit of a bureaucrat and loves his paperwork. It'll be a while before we export him to the dungeons." Fychan said, looking down at the unconscious Eadwig. Bedwyr steps out of the ship with Tegid and his wife, Anne. "I'm so, so sorry I misjudged you." she said with a quiver in her voice, looking at the now reorganised Ceidwaid. Her house was still standing, her children safe and her and Tegid's life intact. "It's fine. We're used to it." Aelhaearn said, before looking at Felix and Cynthia, his eyes widen at the sight of their cheeks. "Excuse us. Uh, Dewydd, Cystennin, take these two fine people into the ship. Take their.. blood pressure or something!" Aelhaearn stumbled, looking for a valid excuse. "What's... Wrong with them?" he asked Bedwyr and Fychan, completely untactful.
"Well sir... It's pretty obvious." Fychan said, glaring at their familiar, deep, embedded crystalline pattern. "So... Is this what you were getting in a state about earlier, Fy?" Bedwyr asked, trying to make the moment light hearted before turning around. "Uh.. Guys? We've got a problem." he said, his heart beat audible from shock. They turn around to see several red fire trucks and a camera van with nearly all the personnel staring in disbelief. Fychan just waves, trying to break the awkwardness but quickly adding to it. "Back in the ship." Aelhaearn stated, grabbing the siblings. We need to inform their parents. Fychan dragged Eadwig aboard before shutting the ramp. "So, you see Anne and Tegid... Your children have been chosen to carry on the torch of our kind. They've been blessed but they need training." Fychan said, nursing a small drink as the camera crew continued to bash on the ramp with pleas of "Let us in!" and "We only want to talk!"
"Will they... be okay in training?" Tegid asked. Fychan pondered, it's been over 1,500 years since the last recorded appearance of a new Ceidwaid, times have changed, the training has too probably. So he lied. "Yes, a strong pair of children like the ones you've produced will have no trouble." he finished with. "Produced? They're not a factory." Cystennin said, walking past and taking the helm. "We'll be sure to write!" the siblings said, in eagerness to go to training. "Alright then." Anne said, going in for a hug. At first, the children shy away, knowing the past experiences with her, but eventually lean in. "I'll change! Just like you have!" she stated, trying to win back the trust of her children. "I think it's go time. Come along Anne." Tegid said, waving to the Ceidwaid. "Uh, how do I?" he mumbled, trying to find the opening button for the hatch as Aelhaearn pressed a button and it lowers. "Oh thanks." they quickly ran off and Aelhaearn shut the hatch - don't want any pesky reporters breaking in.
"So who will train us?" Felix asked, sitting down in a chair. "There's a small group of priests in Pembrokeshire. They've been around for thousands of years." he exaggerated. "We'll be heading south anyways. Our job isn't done." Elisedd said. "Where will you go?" Cynthia asked. "The Lord Rhys said we'd be welcome any time at the castle of Dinefwr... I imagine it's in disrepair since this was some eight hundred years ago. We'll find a stone mason. Or twenty." Gethin said, taking his seat. "So, are you ready to give your lives for the service of the Lord Almighty?" Aelhaearn asked, looking at the siblings. "Yes... Sir!" they say, saluting as if they were in the army. "No saluting." Aelhaearn chuckled. "Cystennin, to Tyddewi." Aelhaearn asked, strapping himself in. "Yes sir." he complied, everyone took their seat. The roar of the engines scared away the reporters as the ship blasted off. Their mission far from complete. Thus ends this chapter of the Ceidwaid.