Epilogue
County of Antrim, Northern Ireland, 2013
The morning light still produced anxiety to Nuada as soon as he woke up and was conscious of the sun rays on his skin and eyes. Those few seconds back to reality, still half asleep, he had to remind himself that all windows and glasses of the royal palace of Bethmoora were made with the highest technology for UV blockage. The brightness blinded him even through the thick wine-red and sheer curtains. He pulled the comforter above his head, achieving a much-needed darkness and searched for Loreto on the bed. He clung to her naked body, glueing himself to her back and embraced her in his arms. He caressed her bulgy abdomen and buried his nose in her hair and neck, intoxicating himself with her aroma. The Queen roared, cuddled against him and turned her head to steal a kiss from his mouth. They laughed and greeted each other good morning between snuggles and kisses.
The day began specially busy that morning in the palace. It was five years since its construction commissioned by the Irish government, the EU, WHO and UN authorities along with the B.P.R.D. The representatives of Northern Ireland had bid the Bethmoora clan welcome back to their land with open arms, having immense pride and honor to have such a selected group of millenary beings living in their lands as they always should have been. The human authority's commission spared no expenses. The cancer-healing Elven medicine opened the doors ajar for their return to the surface with dignity and claim their original land. The exodus of Bethmoora from the New York sewers to their native home in Antrim was a delicate operation carried out in the dark of night hours and moved to their new residences spread all along the county built simultaneously with the royal palace. Today would be the first time Bethmoora opened its doors to the human authorities in an official reception. The elves in charge of the grand dinner scheduled for that evening were diligently coming and going as they exchanged orders and instructions in their native Gaelic.
After the wedding between the now King Nuada and Queen Loreto celebrated in the original royal chamber of Bethmoora surrounded by the Elemental's descendants and officiated by one of the Elven druids, she began taking private daily lessons with one of the millenary wise elves to master the native language of her husband and his people. Its grammar presented just as big a challenge as also her new role as the Queen of Bethmoora did. She still hadn't gotten used to being treated and described as such. The birth of their first-born, Prince Éon, Goldenspear, had motivated her even more to study the roots and culture her son was the heir to. From his father, he had inherited his original opal and emerald eyes and his birthmarks on his temples and cheekbones; whereas from his mother, her light brown wavy hairs and her pale rosy complexion. A little over four years old, the prince had already begun his training to follow his father's steps. Nuada himself took him to ride every day after sunset and trained him in the art of combat with lances, spears and swords. Loreto tried to oppose for, the single idea her little one resulted injured in a fighting lesson shrunk her heart with anxiety, yet soon she realized it was the tradition of the royal family of Bethmoora and Éon's destiny as the King's first-born to follow his steps. They still didn't know whether their son had inherited Nuada's immortality. Beyond what was expected from him, for Loreto he was a beautiful boy growing up happily surrounded by love and protection. His cousin, Princess Celestia, Seawhisper, was born almost a year later. Her parents, Princess Nuada and Prince Abraham, lived in the left wing of the palace. The little girl inherited the bluish skin and sea eyes of her father whereas from her mother, her original long straight blond hair, her birth marks on her temples and cheekbones and her features. At the short age of three years old, the little girl barely spoke because her mental powers were so strong, she could communicate with fluency and clarity without uttering a single word with those around her. The King had ordered telepathic and psychic instruction for his niece as soon as they realized of her capabilities. Regardless, she played with her cousin Éon, running along the palace aisles and stairs like two normal children. Their laughs and screams gave even more life to the superb building.
Days went by filled with activities for Their Royal Highnesses. Nuada and Nuala were in conversations with human authorities of the UN and also with scientists and doctors specialized in climate change. Alongside the Elven druids, they were developing a hybrid tree between the Elemental's descendants and the European Maple tree to reforest areas with demographic density. The UN experts and legal advisers redacted a regulation for international protection for the new forests to save them from all cutting and that punished with strong sentences those who damaged them or started an arson. On his end, Prince Abraham, once Agent Sapien, continued helping the agency in New York whenever his experience and capabilities were required. They picked him up with a private jet and spent weeks in the agency working side by side with Agents Hellboy, Sherman and Krauss like in the old times. Loreto divided her time between Éon's upbringing, her Gaelic lessons and her brand new music studio built in the large basement of the royal palace. She continued making music, yet she had decided to cut all strings with the record label and become an independent singer songwriter like in the early days of her career. Her concerts were scarce. Five years after the events of that fall of 2008, the press continued to step on her heels, now as the Queen of the magical kingdom of Bethmoora. The few opportunities she had to meet again with her audience were intimate events with a limited pre-selling and reservations to ensure her safety. Rarely did she ever fly to the United States, and when she did, she remained anonymous and travel with the private jet placed at their disposal by the Northern Ireland government. The successfully synthesized cure for cancer by the WHO scientists was already available for the world population in the format of drugs and vaccines and could be obtained at every drugstore and public health center. The reaction was massive. Thousands of videos on the Internet with moving stories of survivors who between tears thanked the elves of Bethmoora for a second chance to live. Many traveled to the County of Antrim in Northern Ireland and left flower bouquets, candles and letters against the tall protective walls like totems of gratitude.
The stronghold where the dormant soldiers of the Golden Army were once kept, was now the home of the vigorous forest of the Elemental's descendants. The Elven druids and Their Royal Highnesses were the only ones who could access the royal chamber of Bethmoora. The goblins hid the golden soldiers in their passive state deep into the guts of the chamber to make space for the flora that now thrived. The goblins also opened cracks through the walls to allow the ground water to filter through and feed the forest. On their end, the elves slowly began to expose themselves to weak amounts of sunlight and heat every sunrise and sunset for a few seconds. Every day their skins and eyes seemed to resist it for a little longer, however the treatment left them exhausted and hurting. Nuada and Nuala also joined their fellow elves in this practice, yet their organisms still could not resist the sun.
Both the royal palace as well as the residences built in its surroundings on the large grounds of the Antrim County counted with an underground space as an inhabitable basement. The magical creatures of Bethmoora still didn't rely on the windows with UV blockage technology and so they spent most of the day in their underground chambers. Night remained their natural habitat. The sea and its dramatic coast against the cliffs of Antrim had become their new source of food and playground. Every time they could, King Nuada and his brother-in-law Prince Abraham joined them and swam for hours in the high tides under the moonlight. The Irish government wasn't very content about the multitude of orcs, goblins and a variety of paranormal creatures wandering freely through the County at night yet King Nuada had been clear that the return of Bethmoora to Antrim was to be secured for all members of the clan. The local humans kept their distance from the County and still weren't used to their new neighbors. Regardless, the interest for them increased as time passed by. Both national and international media treated the news as a historical event and crowded against the tall protective walls of Bethmoora for days and weeks at a time trying to photograph or film some creatures, or to capture with their lenses the elusive and discreet elves. Who they also badly wished to catch a glimpse of was the human queen of Bethmoora.
The story of her disappearance, cancer, recovery and wedding engagement with the crown prince to the Elven throne of Bethmoora had captivated the entire world. For months, the media of all countries tried in vain to get an interview with her. There were many reports about her diagnosis and the real significance of Elven medicine, they speculated about the future of her music career and predicted her life as the queen of a magical and millenary folk as the only human among them. Many joked that her engagement to the then Prince Nuada had rendered any other royal wedding in human history meaningless. Both the public statement and the conference press were done along the director of the B.P.R.D. hadn't counted with Nuada. In private conversations, Loreto had tried to make him understand people simply wanted to see him to know to whom they were indebted for the gift that was the definitive cure for cancer. She also attempted to explain the growing interest people had for their wedding. Her then fiance set the rules right there and then. He would not give interviews, he would not allow pictures or videos of him to be made, he would not speak to anyone other than the authorities involved in the return of Bethmoora to Antrim. He was no exotic being to pose for the humans' morbid eyes. Loreto respected his position, and she barely referred to him during the conference press. Their secrecy had the opposite effect as the one they wished. The public opinion's interest in her and her wedding with a millenary magical being increased to stratospheric levels. The only humans besides Loreto's parents who attended their wedding was the B.P.R.D. director, Tom Manning and Agent Sherman accompanying her partner Agent Hellboy. Having explained the situation to them and what happened during the fall of 2008 had also been challenging. Their initial reaction was of horror and panic. Afterwards they felt an almost childish curiosity for Nuada and his people. The birth of Éon finally won them over. Loreto had made them grandparents and there was no way to top that. They visited Bethmoora frequently and stayed for weeks at a time.
The King finished buttoning up his coat and adjusted his sword belt to his waist. Loreto corrected his mandarin collar, divided his long hair with her fingers in two halves that fell over his shoulders and adjusted his incomplete crown to make sure it wouldn't move. Nuada leaned his forehead against hers and with closed eyes he sighed slowly. Loreto cupped his face in her hands and rose on the tip of her toes to softly kiss him on the lips.
"It's just a few hours, then they'll go away," she whispered and tried to sound casual and cheerful.
Nuada caressed her abdomen through her dress and looked her in the eyes.
"Do you feel all right? If during the dinner you feel tired, we can end the reception earlier and you can retire to rest," he said, frowning and with his open hand on her belly.
Loreto suddenly jumped. She placed her hand on his.
"Did you feel that?," she asked with a smile on her lips.
The King nodded and stole a kiss from her mouth.
"She's been very restless today, she knows we'll have guests," she said amused.
"She?"
"It's a girl, I'm certain of it. I'd like Éon to have a little sister. Wouldn't you like to have a daughter?," she said as she caressed his cheek and chin.
Nuada hugged her tightly, hunching over her and hid his face in the space between her shoulder and neck.
"I'd love to," he whispered against her skin and placed a kiss right there.
They separated. Nuada adjusted her crown and combed her hairs as if erasing the consequence of his embrace.
"I'm fine. You just want an excuse to cancel today's commitment," Loreto joked.
Nuada took her face in his open hands and kissed her deeply. The floor trembled under her feet and her knees threatened to surrender to her weight and let her fall. She clung to his back and hung from his neck, devoted to the caress of feeling him completely hers. They broke the kiss sighing in each other's mouths and smiled as they locked their eyes.
"I won't be able to kiss you later before strangers, not like this at least," Nuada panted against her mouth and bit her lower lip.
"Yes you can, nobody will judge you wrongly for a kiss. We have a son. What do you think they think? That he was born out of the Earth like your parents?"
Her husband cracked up. He tried to reclaim his composure. He stood up proudly in his stature and adjusted his coat. He offered his arm to her.
"My queen?," he said with a cheeky sparkle in the corner of his amber gaze.
"Your Royal Highnesses, wise druids, elves, and humans gathered today," the Secretary of State of Northern Ireland began, standing in his place at the dinner before the hosts and guests. "It is with great pride and honor that today we can again declare Northern Ireland as the home of Bethmoora, as it always was and will be. How much wisdom and knowledge amass the beings that since thousands of years live on our planet? Which discoveries and inventions will we be able to achieve in an alliance with them for everyone's benefit? How much history have they witnessed, how many highs and lows of mankind have they witnessed and suffered from? Such were some of the questions I asked myself as I learned of the actual existence of the elves and their magical members of the Bethmoora clan. As a simple human devoted to the service of my country, I never questioned the mythological nature of the legends that spoke of millenary beings originally from this beautiful region of the world. In the last five years, I've taken the time to study the history of the folk that today welcomes us here in their home. A word comes to mind and an answer naturally manifests from the heart. Shame. Forgiveness," he looked to the King and his fellow elves. "History between our races is tainted with blood on both sides of the spectrum, however, while our ancestors could keep on living on Earth, benefiting from the truce offered by Your Majesty's father, King Balor, Bethmoora had to escape underground to survive. The damage has been immeasurable and the wound that divides us is almost impossible to heal, yet today we have a unique opportunity to recover some of the time wasted and learn to live in peace."
The applause all along the grand table was unanimous. Delegates from all corners of the world and of the international organizations actively involved in the return of Bethmoora to Antrim were among the guests.
"I've proposed to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II of the United Kingdom to suggest the original royal chamber of Bethmoora here in Antrim as a candidate for UNESCO's World Heritage Site and I got her support for the motion." The applause resounded strongly again through the high-roof hall of the superb palace. "I propose a toast for peace and a multi-species society where all races can live with respect and dignity."
Everyone stood up and raised their glasses simultaneously. The guests took their seats again and focused their attention on King Nuada, who remained on his feet.
"You and I may be essentially different, Secretary of State, yet deep down we want the same for our people: a life of peace and dignity. The incomplete crown I carry on my head is a constant reminder of the road that of thousands of years I thought was the only solution for Bethmoora: the total extermination of the human race," the guests opened their eyes in shock and adjusted themselves uncomfortably on their seats. The Northern Ireland Secretary of State continued focused on the King. "It is this crown that my son will wear, knowledgeable of the bloodshed road that ended up today. History mustn't be forgotten for it is its scars which prevent us from repeating it, however neither should we allow it to dictate our road ahead. The future looks hopeful for our societies if the motto continues to be respect and dignity for all creatures, human, animal, normal and magical who inhabit the Earth. There is however something I must disagree on with you. Bethmoora's royal chamber cannot be a World Heritage Site. Not only because it wasn't built by human hands, but also because it doesn't belong to Humanity, but to us, the Sons Of The Earth." The general mutter filled the air with tension above the large table. "I accept the gesture as a symbolic one, yet my refusal shall prevail. The real bond that will strengthen our new pact is sitting at the right of Queen Loreto," he pointed to Éon.
The little prince was at that moment eating a pea with his bare hands, unaware of the situation. Everyone voiced their collective endearment. Loreto caught her son's attention between laughs as she wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. Éon ran the length of the table with his big opal and emerald eyes and, as he saw himself the center of attention, he clung to his mother and cried. Everyone laughed and were moved with tenderness. Nuada couldn't help to chuckle at the scene.
"What better bond between our kinds than family?," he said, his voice moved by emotion as he watched Loreto at his right sitting Éon on her lap to comfort him. "See him there, in whose veins runs Elven and human blood, my son, prince Éon, shall be the harbinger of our new peace. He shall be the heir not only to the throne of Bethmoora but also he shall hold the delicate balance of the human race in his hands. He won't allow any threat to his mother's race as much as he shall defend the autonomy and honor of his father's. It will be my mission to ensure to ingrain in him the best values of both worlds so that his descendants follow his steps to guarantee the continuation of our alliance."
The ovation was unanimous. The guests were still focused on the little prince while others observed with growing curiosity his cousin, Princess Celestia, who sat in front of her mother, Princess Nuala. King Nuada rose his glass and looked above the table, awaiting his guests to join him.
"For Mother Earth, one mother, powerful giver and destroyer of all life on the planet who embraces us all equally. For the return to the light."
"For the return to the light!"
THE END