By the time Kali returns, unnoticed amongst the crowd, Padma is absolutely soaked with blood, her sari irretrievably ruined, and her stomach empty. Yet still the followers come, and sacrifice animals to her, almost like word has spread through to the other temples and villages in the area.
Padma jumps when Kali says, "You'll get used to it. And you'll be thankful for it when you start feeling the bloodlust."
"Why do this to me?"
"Would you rather be dead?"
"No, I…"
"Life, death, anger, sadness, rage, tranquillity, they are all part of the cycle of life. Calling on your goddess, though she was weak, saved everyone here."
Padma shakes her head, and a man who was about to sacrifice a cockerel looks alarmed and hurries away, "That's Dora, one of Morgana's chosen."
"I see. Whatever is the case, what ever form of transport she, and then you, used, brought me out of my bloodlust enough not to kill you both."
"What about the other people here?"
"I would have been sad afterwards, but they would still be dead. Such is life, the sun rises, and the sun sets, the tide comes in, and the tide goes out, life begins and life ends. When Parvati cleaved the darkness from her domain, she also cut off a little light. It is the only thing that stops us from being Asura's. If you survive your training, you will learn that it is the only thing that keeps you of the light, even as the light can scour your flesh. I will speak to your family now, and get the fawning and fear out of the way. Tomorrow, I will find you and start teaching you to dance. You will join me here on Tuesday's and Saturday's as they sacrifice animals to appease my bloodlust."
"But what about school?"
"Would you rather slaughter your way through the school? We can do that if you wish."
Padma shakes her head vigorously, causing a few more devotees to look at their sacrifices and then flee. As Kali leaves Padma, the first man who left with his cockerel returns with a goat.
═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════
As they walk off the ferry onto Björkö island, Morgana looks distracted, as if there are other concerns weighing on her mind. While Harry and Marianne both run off to look around, Kate walks over and places her hand on Morgana's forearm.
"Morgana, is everything alright?"
"Oh, what, hmm, yes, everything's alright. I just found out that Dora was almost killed fighting another god. Obviously I need to increase her training if that's going to become a regular thing."
Kate looks horrified, "How can you look so relaxed about it?"
Morgana shrugs, "She's still alive, any battle you walk away from is a win, even if you've lost. Undoubtably, it was less destructive on the landscape than it would have been if I was there." She looks up and around, "This is the place, I can still feel the magic anchored deep underground."
"What would you have done if it wasn't here?"
"There's some places in Finland that seemed promising, and also Iceland."
It takes Morgana another hour to find the right spot on the island for what she needs, and another 30 minutes for her and Kate to corral Harry and Marianne, who have found some other children and are finally behaving like the children they are by playing games.
As the three of them gather around Morgana, she sends her magic deep into the earth. Seeking out the array that has been carved deep inside the bedrock. She knows as soon as she's found it, as there's suddenly a massive draw on her magic, and the entire area starts to glow with scintillating light.
As suddenly as it started, the draw shuts off and she has just enough time to look around before a pillar of rainbow light rises from beneath them into the sky and they are no longer on Earth.
═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════
"Welcome to Vanaheim Morrigan, and welcome to your clansmen and the mortal that travels with you."
Harry looks around as he blinks the spots from his eyes, off to one side is a beautiful woman with ankle length blond hair, unbound except for a braided leather band around her forehead.
Morgana bows her head, "Well met, though I confess that I do not know who you are."
The woman smiles, "That is unsurprising, as I only know you by reputation and description. I am Freyja. I'm sorry that our menfolk are not here to welcome you, however, the few we have left of both the Æsir, and Vanir are guarding the borders of Vanaheim."
"I have salt and mead, maybe we could discuss the state of your people once we have become more accustomed to each other."
Freyja laughs, "Salt we have aplenty, though the mead will be a welcome addition to our table. Come, there will be a feast tonight."
Kate leans down to Marianne, "What are they saying?"
Marianne looks up at her mother in surprise, then remembers that she doesn't have magic, "The lady with the blond hair is Freyja, and she recognised Morgana from descriptions. Apparently, much of their menfolk are gone."
Freyja looks over at the two of them, "My apologies, for being unable converse with the mortal, I do not have the gift of all speak."
Marianne frowns, "I thought it was just because my mother doesn't have magic."
Freyja smiles at Marianne, "Nay child, those of the Æsir have a gift that allows them to communicate with all living things that have a language. We of the Vanir do not have that gift, though instead we are far more capable with our magics."
"What happened to the men then?"
Freyja laughs and ruffles Marianne's hair, "That is a tale to be told at the feast, and by one who was there. For the moment, let's just say that Asgard has been given over as a memorial to the fallen and leave it at that."
═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════
Susan startles as Mac Lir leans over her and grabs her hands, "Your hands are in the wrong place. Move this hand backward so the spear is balanced in that hand. Now move your other hand to the end of the spear. Can you feel how the tip is easier to control?" Susan nods as he guides her hands in motions, "Good, this is a warriors hold rather than a hunting hold."
Susan drops the spear and spins around, "But I don't want to be a warrior."
Mac Lir looks at her with a confused expression, "You are being taught by The Morrigan herself, and you do not wish to be a warrior?"
Susan shakes her head, "No, Harry's teaching me, I think someone said he's Brigid. I just want to be able to defend myself."
Mac Lir steps back in shock, "But your aunt is a warrior."
Susan nods, "She is, and maybe when I'm older I'll want to be one too. But at the moment, I'd rather do something like healing or spell research."
"Truly, what of Hannah?"
"Fashion designer, last I heard. She is right there if you wanted to ask." Susan indicates at the other side of the garden where Hannah is doing her own spear practice.
Mac Lir slumps backwards, "But, why seek training from me then?"
Susan shrugs, "I don't know, ask my aunt, you're dating her after all."
"I'm a warrior, a king, and a fisherman, what do I know of the hunting arts?"
"Again, I don't know. But maybe I can teach you about some wizarding games. I think we have a spare broom here, so we could try a three-way game of quadpot."
"You have games played with cleaning implements?"
"No, these brooms are for flying. Hannah! Grab some brooms!"
Somewhat later, after Mac Lir has had a crash course on riding a broom, he shakes his head, "Truly, if my people had learnt to make these, they would have ruled over many Tuath's."
"Maybe it was better that they didn't then. What was life like back then?"
"It was glorious, most of my people lived on the coast and sailed the sea in search of fish, or raided other kingdoms for boats and fish. Our warriors were nearly unmatched, and our lands were full of cattle. The only thing that prevented our expansion was an alliance between the surrounding Ruiri, though the Ruiri of my kingdom never lost the allegiance of the rí túaithe below him."
"I meant for the normal person."
Mac Lir looks confused, "What of them, they farmed the land, the lived they died, and maybe died earlier if cattle raiders were especially vicious. Of course, this was before the Christians arrived, and I needed to be more active. That's when I took control of the other kings of my people."
"Isn't that callous?"
"What? There are others in the Tuath Dé who looked after the concerns of the peasants. I was a king, I didn't concern myself with how they lived, only that my warriors protected them from raiders as best they could. The likes of Goibniu looked over the craftsmen, while females like Flidais and Brigid looked after the cattle and peasants."
═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════
"Auntie."
Amelia looks up from some paperwork she brought home, "Yes Susan?"
"I don't think I like your boyfriend."
"Why's that?"
"All he seems to care about is war and fishermen. When we started playing quadpot, his first reaction was about how it would have allowed his people to take over more land."
"How is that different to people like Malfoy, Nott, or even the Longbottom's?"
"Surely they care about the people working for them."
"Some do, and some don't. It's why I've asked him to teach Sue and Rosie from Imber. Come to think of it, you may want to take Hannah to Imber, as the dressmaker I met last month keeps a stall there."
"Oh, wicked. I'll do that."
Amelia frowns, "The dressmaker isn't evil."
"No, auntie, when you say something is wicked like that, it means it's great."
"That doesn't make sense to me, but I'll take your word for it. Now, where do you think would be a good place for a date?"
Susan looks worried, "Why are you asking me?"
Amelia laughs, "Well, I can't exactly ask anyone else, 'Madam Umbridge, do you have any thoughts on where I can take an ancient Celtic god out on a date?'"
Susan giggles, "That's the woman that looks like a pink toad, isn't it."
"It is indeed."
"I have no idea, but you could just walk out the Leaky and see what there is to do around there. I know the Science, Natural History, and British Museums are somewhere in London, as Morgana took us in March."
"I'll ask Scotts next time I'm in the office. Now, how have you been getting on at school?"
"I'm doing ok I think. It was harder than I thought it would be. But Harry and Marianne make sure we keep practicing everything, and I think that might have made some of it easier. I wasn't expecting the Celtic magic classes to help, but they really have. Especially in getting around the school. It only takes a few seconds to get to class now, rather than the 15-20 minutes it could take."
Amelia laughs, "Potions to Transfiguration?"
Susan shakes her head, "No, potions is at the clinic in Hogsmeade. I was thinking Transfiguration to Herbology."
Amelia nods, "That would do it. Though I hope you're keeping your exercise up."
Susan groans, "Part of mundane studies is something called P.E. and Morgana has decided that we need to learn the sword or spear. That's what your boyfriend tried to help me with earlier. Apparently we're learning the spear the hunting way rather than the warriors way."
Amelia nods, "That's good, I know you're not a fighter."
"Thanks auntie, but that's hard. Especially because none of us want to have a personal lesson after McMillian put off his training to get more study time in, and Morgana spent the next lesson correcting his footwork, grip, and even strike angle, and telling him that they were all things she'd corrected last time. She's scary."
Amelia pales slightly as she remembers the ceremony, "She is indeed."
═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════
"Dr Peterson, please come in."
Peterson walks in carrying a box full of paperwork and takes a seat at a desk. Arrayed in front of him is the director and the grants review panel.
"Good afternoon everyone."
The panel all nod, and the director speaks up again, "As you are probably aware, this meeting is usually just a formality. However, in this case we need to discuss your proposed project in a little more detail."
Peterson gulps, as this is usually a bad sign, "I understand, I have some paperwork here that should show what I hope to achieve, and the timescales we think it will be achievable on."
"No, no, we, the board, initially rejected your application. However, someone at MI13 reached out to us, and has offered to pay your grant, and more, if you can expand your work to cover more than your original paper outlined."
Peterson's eyes widen, "The military is interested?"
"It seems so, now I'd like to outline the things they want you to add to your project. Once that's done we can go over them in more detail."
"I can do that."
"Firstly, they want you to run four of these experiments around the country, all synchronised together."
"What would be the aim of this?"
"The second item is to determine the direction that whatever effect you're measuring is coming from."
"I see, is this some sort of tracking process?"
"I don't know, you'd have to ask your liaison. The last item is one we want you to investigate, that is why the far more accurate laser experiments haven't been showing up the same data."
Peterson looks alert, "Wait, they haven't?"
The director shakes his head, "No, they haven't. There's a couple of long running experiments that various universities use to illustrate what led to the discovery of special and general relativity, they have shown absolutely zero results with a laser, yet your experiment using a gas lantern has."
"But that shouldn't be possible, light is light."
"That is something for you to discover later, for the moment we need to talk about your budget, what you think is needed for your experiments, and initial timescales."
"Before we move on, will there be any restrictions on publication?"
"Not at all."
═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════
In the headquarters of the East India Company pandemonium has broken loose, as the entirety of the Nepalese detection grid has just gone offline. The director starts to put together a message for a long distance owl to the ICW requesting technical assistance, as they can't trust the locals to restore the grid properly. Initially it looked like Kali had been roused, and suddenly it was like an Asura had appeared out of nowhere and obliterated their ability to know more.
═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════
In Scandinavia, the local Auror office triggers an emergency response as most of Sweden, and some of Norway disappears from their detection grid. The head auror digs through his paperwork looking for the ICW article on how the British have been recovering from this sort of disaster.