Mohun sits bolt upright next to his wife, Akshara, as their guest Kali, sips some freshly brewed Chai. Padma, looking far more relaxed, sits in the place of honour beside her, while Parvati is visibly shaking as she sits next to Padma.
Kali looks over at Parvati, "Parvati, I like your name, it's the same as my mothers. It suits you. Do try not to lose that light."
Parvati stammers out, "Yes Sura."
"This is a nice house, I haven't been inside one as a guest since my Lord Shiva was crippled."
Mohun has to reach backward to support himself on the floor, lest he fall over, "Lord Shiva is crippled?" Beside him, Akshara is not so lucky, and faints.
Kali nods sadly, "He was, almost 600 years ago now. He and Lord Brahma sought out the source of the religions of the book, and attempted to destroy it. Instead, they ran into an impenetrable fortress, and clever traps. Lord Brahma was trapped, and most of my Lord's power was also trapped, even though he himself managed to escape the trap. I myself tried to destroy the prisons he brought back, but to no avail."
Padma looks at Kali, "Is that when you went to Nepal?"
Kali nods, "Without my Lord Shiva to calm me down, I chose a remote location and sent the nearby king a dream."
"Is that why the statue is different?"
Kali nods, "That's the first time I did that to my Lord, it was so embarrassing. Of course, the second time was somewhat more public, Vishnu never let the two of us forget it."
Parvati nervously ventures, "How comes you're so…"
"Calm? As I told your sister yesterday, when your namesake shed the darkness in her power, she also shed a kernel of light. It is that kernel that allows me to be the primordial mother, and is all that keeps me from being an Asura. I also fed long and deeply after the fight, so the madness is satiated for the moment."
Akshara comes around and pushes herself to her feet as Mohun nods thoughtfully, "Truly our fates have changed. May I interest you in joining us for dinner?"
Kali shakes her head, "The taste of flesh brings on the madness. I really just came to ask your permission to teach Padma to dance until she needs to return to school. She may even survive the experience if she remembers to use her unique ability to travel when she sees the madness coming over me."
Nobody seems to notice the alarm on Padma's face, as they're all staring at Kali.
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Kate sits, bored, at the feasting table as everyone around her speaks in their own language. A couple of women helping to support a young man to a seat next to her catches her eye. But only for a moment.
As the food is brought to the tables, the man speaks to her, "Fair lady, may I have your name?"
Kate responds automatically, "Kate."
"A lovely name, you come from Midgard yes?"
"I do. How can I understand you?"
"Forgive me, I am Loki, and I am from the Æsir. I have enough magic left to allow me the gift of all-speak, though I have been trapped in this body. Much to my wife's delight, but it does get tiresome."
"What do you mean trapped?"
"My dear, I am a shapeshifter. Though that portion of my power is trapped in this gem, along with much of my physical and magical ability. Alas, I was unable to retrieve the gems that trapped the others, as it was only my knowledge of the paths between the branches that allowed me to escape."
"Is that something like the otherside? Where Morgana has her domain?"
"Nay, we call that the void, and for most it is a death sentence to even step foot in there. I myself am skilled at travelling the paths that travel through the void, where reality is still solid enough to walk, but the void is an ever present threat."
"That sounds like a fascinating ability, I can't imagine how hard it was to learn."
"It was not easy, that is true. But neither was choosing to learn the art of magic either."
"Does that mean you know runes?"
Loki laughs, "My fair lady, you jest. I am no smith who can carve the symbols of power into things. Nor am I Woden, who hung from the world tree until he received wisdom and the runes. Indeed, I am but an Æsir who sought to tear down the gods when they bound my son out of fear." Tears stream down his face as he continues, "But now my sons are dead, as are many I once called friend. Their magic and power used to protect the temples of that accursed religion."
Awkwardly Kate pats Loki on the arm.
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As a large hand gently lands on her shoulder, Marianne startles from where she was listening in to the conversation between her mother and Loki.
Looking up, she cranes her neck to see the face of the woman standing behind her. Far taller than even Hagrid, she looks down at her with a solemn expression, "Might I have a word?"
"Um, sure?"
"If you will come over here, you may be more comfortable."
Marianne looks over where the woman is indicating, there is a massive chair with a raised platform next to it that holds a normal sized chair.
As the two sit down next to each other, the giantess introduces herself, "I am Hel, and you are almost a death god."
Marianne's eyes widen, and Hel nods, "Indeed, it is a big responsibility, and one that I have shouldered alone for far too long. Though I will suggest that you do not leave it too long to take up the mantle completely, as your intended is carrying a partial soul in his forehead."
Marianne's eyes widen, "Can you not remove it?"
Hel shakes her head ponderously, "No, for I just care for the dead, I do not reap their souls. I have heard that the Greek and Roman gods had ones that could, though they have not existed in my lifetime. Those that may have been able to help amongst our number are no longer with us."
Their brief conversation comes to a close as the mead is passed out and Freya stands to introduce the guests.
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Daphne watches her sister as Astoria hums a tune while she sorts out bundles of herbs. There is something else to her, a depth that children her age shouldn't have.
"Astoria, are you ok?"
Astoria stops humming, but keeps sorting out the herbs, "I'm fine, why?"
"It's just, you aren't, erm you?"
Astoria stills before looking over at Daphne, "Are you talking about the fact I haven't woken you up yet?"
"It's not just that, you were… less serious last time I saw you."
"Daph, can you speak Celtic?"
Daphne grimaces, "Badly."
Astoria smiles, "Badly's good. We just need to avoid English, as there's lots of TV cameras where we're going."
"What do you mean?"
"Go and get changed, and I'll show you."
"Changed?"
"Celtic garb."
"Oh."
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As Daphne and Astoria are standing on the edge of the mist, Astoria says, "The first time I came here Mum was looking after me, and was summoned by a prayer. The only thing that protected my identity is this veil that she made quickly. I watched as she healed the leg of a girl the same age as me. Come on, and no more English."
Daphne follows, her spear held over her shoulder.
As Astoria steps out, there it's almost like a shockwave spreads out, as the people in the area turn towards them, and some children shout in joy before running over. It doesn't take long before Astoria has been pulled into a game of tag while Daphne watches with a smile on her face while leaning against her spear.
As she's watching, a humble man walks over, "Excuse me, are you goddess?"
Daphne smiles but shakes her head, and almost forgets to speak in Celtic, "No, she is my sister. Goddess healed her, and made her daughter as well."
"Ah, she brings much joy to the children here. Sometimes they forget we fled our homes."
"Is this not your home now?"
"Look around, we have no place to build without rubbish, and no machinery to move the rubbish."
"May I try to help?"
The man laughs, "Only if you think you can clear that rubble."
Daphne looks over at a concrete building that may once have been a tower block, but now it's just a large pile of concrete with the occasional still intact wall or window visible in the rubble. Squaring her shoulders, she takes her spear in one hand and points the bronze head at the rubble before casting the same animation charm they were tested on only a few weeks ago.
As a block of concrete sprouts legs and antenna, she looks at the man, "Where do you want it?"
The man looks agog as the block skuttles down the pile of rubble under Daphne's direction, and wordlessly points to an area near the border of the sanctuary. Over the next couple of hours, Daphne directs rubble away from the area over to where she was shown. Once the refugees get over their shock, they descend on the pile of concrete and twisted rebar, pulling out any of the smaller pieces they can while she manages the large slabs. Every so often, they come across a putrid and mangled body, and everyone stops while a couple of people carefully wrap the body in a white sheet and carry it off to a red cross post.
By the time she's exhausted, and leaning on her spear for support, they have cleared less than a quarter of the rubble. Though in the area that they were working, the foundations are now visible, as is the hard packed dirt of what used to be a grassy area around the building.
The man comes over again holding a chipped and broken mug full of water, "Come, you have done too much and you need rest. Do you have a name?"
Numbly, Daphne nods, and wracks her brain for something to say, instead, what comes out is, "I am Aoibhgreine."
That statement is instantly beamed around the world for thousands of people to see live, and millions to see later on their local news.
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Hermione looks out the car window at the Kent countryside going past as her parents sing silly holiday songs while they're driving. Running down the length of the car, and between the driver and passenger seats, is her spear, why they wanted her to put it in the car she's not sure. Her second clue that this isn't just a normal daytrip is when they pull off onto a dirt track and make their bumpy way through a small wood.
"Well here we are honey, when we heard you were learning to use a spear, we looked up the local HEMA group, and signed up for it. Come on, the instructor wants to see your spear."
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Dora is practicing with her sword and shield, when she feels a faint tug of prayer. Frowning, she summons her shield before disappearing into the mist. It only takes her a few minutes to locate the source of the prayers, and as she's trying to determine if it's safe, an explosion goes off nearby. Hastily stepping out of the mist, she raises her shield and transfigures the ground in front of the woman that's praying into a steel covered granite wall. As debris and shrapnel bounce off the shield, she casts a muffling charm with her other hand, "You called?"
Startled, the woman looks up, "You're not Morgana!"
Dora grimaces at the name, "I know, she's on holiday with her children at the moment. I'm one of her chosen, and I'm answering prayers."
The woman points behind her, "A mile that way is a village full of Croat refugees, and the Serbians want to wipe them out."
"Ok, so stop the Serbians, and protect the Croats. Wasn't it the other way around a few months ago?"
"That was in Bosnia, we're now in Serbia."
"Right, at least I'm not being stabbed by a black goddess this time. Well, as you don't have an army, I'll supply my own."
A wave of her shield opens up a small hole in the barrier through which she can see a force of around 100 men cautiously approaching the barrier with jeeps and armoured vehicles following behind them. Meanwhile a tank is drawing a bead on their position. Letting her magic run free for the second time in as many weeks, she waves her sword around in an arc pointing it at the ground. As she does humanoid golems made of rock and earth rise with stone clubs in their grasp.
She almost falters there, when she sees just how many golems she was able to transfigure, but she's able to rally enough to point at the tank and turn the barrel of the gun into a massive snake, which immediately attacks the tank it's attached to. Almost immediately, the men start fire wildly at the approaching golems, to little or no effect.
Unlike Morgana's one woman against an army, Dora's approach is no less terrifying for the enemy, while keeping her far safer behind her shield. For each golem that they succeed in shooting down, she just raises another two, and they continue to trudge inexorably towards the enemy soldiers. Slowly, the Serbian soldiers start to retreat, though a couple of them chose to stand their ground, only to be pounded by the first golem to reach them, with sickening results.
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Mihaela looks on with horrid fascination, over her headset the commander of her unit calls, "Mihaela, are we seeing things?"
"No Sergeant, my prayer was answered. I still can't believe it."
"You've made a believer out of me, and everyone else here is agreeing. Fall back once she's done there."
"Rodger."
Cautiously, Mihaela lifts her head to peer through the opening that Dora made, and sees the men and vehicles leaving as fast as they can, "Erm, do you have a name so that I don't have to call you Oi!"
Dora looks down at her, "You can call me Dora, I'm one of The Morrigan's crows."
"I see, um, I think you've won, so would you be able to put them away."
Dora looks out at the army she pulled out of the ground, and shakes her head, "Yeah sure." With a wave of her sword the golems return to the earth, as does the shield. The snake turns back into a twisted barrel that is chewing on the tracks of the tank.