Awake And Alive
Chapter 8
Author's Note: Just a quick note here before we began. A new character is described a bit further down in the chapter, so if people wish to see what she really looks like, feel free to PM me for those of you on Fanfiction or ask in a review for those on AO3 and I'll send you the link to the picture. I wish you all a good time reading!
A few days after Kokabiel's execution, down in the Underworld, the Four Maous were meeting each other to not only touch base on matters of governance, but to also take stock of their respective discoveries about Manannan Mac Lir. In their private meeting room located somewhere in the capital city of Lilith, Serafall was the only one pacing around, frowning heavily. The other three kept silent, knowing by now that their female colleague would tell them what was on her mind soon enough. And rightly so, she stopped pacing rather abruptly and told her fellow leaders
«Manannan Mac Lir played us all like a fiddle. He somehow knew that if he showed us too much power, we would be wary of him, reluctant to accept the offered olive branch. But on the other hand, had he shown us too little, we would have taken advantage of him, taking him to the cleaners as it were. That deity was canny enough to prey on our very nature as Devils. He got our attention by acting unlike any of the Celtic deities we have heard about, but in the end, he managed to bypass our guards like it wasn't even there. Such charisma!»
Ajuka stopped fiddling with his tablet only to add his own two cents
«There's no denying that he enjoyed being at the centre of attention. He might not have planned for every single detail, but he was in control from the very beginning. He let us mingle, likely observing us, well hidden behind his magical mist. Then he had fun spooking the kids as he made his grand entrance. Everything was working in his favour. That is, until Hyoudou Issei tried his regular antics on his lover. Good job by the way, Sirzechs, in managing to defuse Mac Lir's temper like that. Otherwise the Geas he put on your future brother-in-law would have likely been far worse.»
Sirzechs openly flinched at that. He honestly pitied Issei and understood his plight; but Ajuka was right, it could have been infinitely worse. And the kid had brought it upon himself to begin with… Maou Lucifer looked towards Falbium to see if there was something he wished to add to this particular subject, but his friend merely shook his head in the negative. The others had said everything that needed to be spoken on the matter at hand. After thinking for a few minutes, Sirzechs asked his closest friends
«So, what do we do about this? Are we going forward with Mac Lir's stated goals or do we continue alone?»
Surprisingly, it was Falbium who took the initiative, a rarely seen fire now burning in his usually apathetic gaze
«I say we take him up on his offer. We literally have nothing to lose and everything to gain. And frankly, the idea of testing myself in a spar against the famed Man of the Sea makes me feel more awake than I ever was in decades. I would love to see Fragarach in action! I would have really loved to see the fight against Kokabiel. I bet it was truly epic!»
XxX
While the leadership of the Devils were hashing things out together, on the other side of the largest continent of the Underworld, in the main Grigori fortress, Azazel and Shemhazai were having a similar, yet startlingly different discussion. Both the Governor and Vice-Governor were sipping some sake and discussing the events that happened on the Isle of the Blessed in low tones. It was Shemhazai who spoke first
«He felt much too young to be as ancient as he's supposed to be. You know better than most how the men of the Old World were, Azazel. There were no traces of misogyny in his actions and his words, he was also dressed in an impeccably modern fashion. He took extensive precautions to not harm the humans around him. The Tuatha Dé weren't as bad as some of the other pantheons were with their worshippers in the old days, but Mac Lir was much more careful than I could have ever expected.»
Azazel frowned and pursed his lips before he answered
«That young man was and wasn't Manannan Mac Lir.»
Shemhazai looked at his old friend and waited for him to explain. This time Azazel wasn't baiting him for his own personal amusement, he was gathering his thoughts.
« He was definitely a god, that kind of power simply can't be faked. Only a high ranked Celtic deity could have brought back all the Knights of the Round Table as Heroic Spirits like he did. Summoning and sustaining just one is murder on the magical reserves for even the most powerful of magic users, but he wasn't showing any hint of strain in sustaining all thirteen of them! That's bonafide godhood right there, my friend. But for all that he took the name and the titles, he isn't the original Lord of Capes.
The Manannan I knew would have never taken a British accent for all the gold in the world. He was much too proud of his thick Irish accent. And he wouldn't have used gentlemanly manners with the ladies either, at least not if there wasn't anything worth his while later on. He was much rougher around the edges than what that young man showed. I only met him twice on good terms and we crossed blades a few more times before he vanished without a word. The young man we met was in fact Mac Lir the Second, I'm almost certain of this.»
Shemhazai was rather surprised at hearing that, but had no intention of disproving it. But now that Azazel was mentioning it…The clues gathered together didn't lie.
«What had he been reciting just before he executed Kokabiel? Some kind of mantra?»
The Vice-Governor was frowning heavily in concentration, clearly trying to remember the exact words, before he was broken out of it by Azazel's solemn voice,
«In the name of Manannan of the House of Lir… I, Harry of the House of Potter… Harry… Potter? That name rings a bell somehow…»
Shemhazai had the answer for that one,
«Harry Potter? The only known survivor of the Killing Curse? He was an important figure in the Civil War raging among the magical community of the United Kingdom. So he became a god? Or was he always a god who disguised himself as a wizard? It wouldn't be the first time a pagan god did something like that honestly.»
Azazel frowned some more at that but answered promptly
«Frankly, I don't have the answer at the moment, Shem. We will just have to ask the right questions the next time our friendly neighbourhood Celtic god pops back up for a visit, won't we?»
Shemhazai gave his boss a dirty look for the use of his much hated nickname, but let it go this time. Azazel was right, they would simply have to ask the right questions the next time their paths crossed each other and hope that the Celtic god would be in the mood to answer them. He wasn't foolish enough to go looking for a Tuatha Dé in their own Domains! The first and last time he tried that, he nearly made a widow out of his wife!
XxX
In a different plane of existence, In the native Otherworld of the Tuatha Dé, existed the isle of Tír na nÓg. That particular isle was the heart of Manannan Mac Lir's kingdom, even if he had been absent for centuries. During his absence, Titania, the Queen of the Faes, had taken it upon herself to be the god's regent. But even here, in this Otherworld, change couldn't be stopped. The sleepy little Hamlet that had sprung up around the Man of the Sea's Keep was now a thriving port town that the locals had named River's End, since the largest river of Tír na nÓg flowed through the town and into the sea. Like any being with a lick of power in the various Celtic Otherworlds, the Fae Queen had felt the return of Mac Lir among the living.
As a dutiful Regent, she had immediately made preparations to put everything in order for the greatly awaited return of their King. Only, the Man of the Sea still hadn't showed up and it had been months! Her patience had limits. But she couldn't just send a messenger to him with a summons. No, no, no. He was their King and she was just his Regent even if she was a Queen in her own right. He was still her hierarchical superior, with her being only a High Fae and him a king of the Tuatha Dé. But it didn't mean that she didn't intend to make him pay her back for her dutiful service during all those centuries. It was with that thought in mind that she ordered the creation of a very specific runic array in the town square. Their people had really taken to Irish tap dancing soon after it was invented, in the early sixteenth century. So the square's renovation where most dances were held would be well received even if there was a not so well hidden purpose behind it.
From there she would proceed to make the Ferryman of the Dead come back Home, come hell or high water. His people needed him. His so-called «vacation» had taken enough time as it was. And what better way to get a god's attention than by prayers coming from his faithful? Titania was simply going to make sure he couldn't ignore them. Not if he wanted to still have a kingdom left when he finally deigned to come back after around five hundred years of absence! After finishing her daily load of paperwork, The Queen of all Faes left her office behind to take a stroll around the Keep. After she came across a mirror, she took some time to look at her reflection.
Her long snow white hair was falling in waves all the way down her upper arms, even if her flower crown tried to hold it somewhat. She had a beautiful oval shaped face with pale blue eyes, kissable rosy lips which contrasted with her pale immaculate skin. Titania knew she was gorgeous, beautiful even, but from what she heard through the grapevine, this new incarnation of the Man of the Sea wouldn't be fooled by a pretty face and a simple show of cleavage. She would have to get crafty and creative to keep him where he belonged, for it was not that easy to fool a Tuatha Dé of his caliber. But Titania relished the thought of finally having a challenge. Leaving the mirror behind, she slowly but surely made her way to her private parlor, where her meal would be delivered. No matter the Realm, paperwork was the bane of every leader worth their salt and she would take advantage of any rest she could get.
XxX
Over the next few weeks, Harry's time was divided between visits to his old friends, visits to see Teddy, exploring the various sites around the British isles and the most entertaining of the lot, testing Ruval Phenex's patience in order to find his last nerve. The Phenex Heir had stumbled upon the Celtic couple during their various excursions at least half a dozen times so far and each of them had him on the backfoot. To be fair to the pureblood Devil, Harry wasn't masking his presence. In fact, he was intentionally broadcasting it just to see who would answer.
Just this morning, Brigid popped in for a quick visit just to say «Hello» and to warn him that Lugh was awake and currently looking for a good fight. Ugh, just what he needed. Having to deal with this particular battle nut. While Harry was now always up for a good tussle, he wasn't so inclined to battle day in and day out for weeks on end! But in Lugh's opinion, a fight wasn't worth his time if it lasted less than forty-eight hours. So at least the daredevil wouldn't challenge random citizens, or at least Harry hoped he wouldn't… Perhaps the Leaders of the Three Biblical Factions knew someone who would be up to entertaining the Celtic sun god? Elsewhere, in the Underworld's Bael territory and in the Dimensional Gap's City of Oz, Sairaorg Bael and Vali Lucifer sneezed at the same time.
All the previous encounters between them had always been short on purpose, Harry not wanting to humor the stuck-up Devil with factual answers to his questions. Scáthach, while looking stoic in public, had as much fun as him giving Ruval and his Peerage the run around. Harry had finally been able to take some blackmail material after he and his beloved lured their tail all the way to a live outdoor concert. Most of their faces had been absolutely priceless when the band currently on stage started to play a remarkably good rendition of «Angel with a Shotgun»!
Buying that high quality camera had been a very good investment. His Grace Lucifer would most likely enjoy those photos. The question remained though: how was he supposed to send them? It's not like he could send an owl to the Underworld or drop them at the nearby post office…could he? And going all the way to Japan just to drop them on the Gremory girl felt rather distasteful… Not to mention that the gods of Takamagahara would be on the lookout for his presence this time around…Oh well, he would figure it out sooner or later.
Back to the matter at hand, It seemed that Ruval and his people didn't particularly enjoy the song. Too bad, it was quite good. Perhaps it was a tad mean to keep switching positions and making them navigate constantly through the crowd? Oh swell, it had been amusing at the time. It wasn't like he owed anything to the Phenex Family anyway, so his conscience was clean. And of course, just as Ruval was closing in, Harry waved him goodbye in a rather cheeky manner before vanishing in a swirl of mist with his lover in tow. Oh yes, there was much fun to be had at Ruval and his peerage's expense. He wondered if all the Pillar Devils were this amusing to mess with? If so, a trip to the Underworld in the near future would be worth the hassle.
XxX
About three weeks later, back to the island of Tír na nÓg, Titania was ready to begin her experiment to call their wayward King home. The runic array had been masterfully etched in the town square and she found no fault in it even after a thorough inspection. The Runemasters had done fantastic work and were adequately rewarded. The dancers and musicians were ready to begin at the Regent's command, all of them giddy to be able to help in getting Lord Mac Lir's attention. They would have likely been ready earlier, but there were so many dances and melodies to choose from, so they had to narrow down a reasonable selection. Once the choice was made and the participants were ready to begin, Titania sat down on the throne-like chair erected in the stands nearby and gave the signal for them to begin.
The music and dance began slowly, since they were testing the waters. Never before had the Sidhe tried to combine music, dance and prayers together. For all they knew, it might not work. The Runic Array worked in theory, but it had never been tested before, since it was one of a kind. Slowly but surely, the music sped up and the performance actually got better. Nothing specific seemed to be happening at first, but without warning, an ethereal green light slowly but surely came out of the runes embedded in the town square. The light seemed to frolic between the dancers and even took various indistinct shapes before shooting straight to the sky and vanishing between the Realms only after the performance had ended.
Titania permitted herself a small satisfied smile. So far, the experiment was a great success. Now they would just have to keep it up every other day to entice their wayward King back home. He would come back, she was certain. If not, well she would just have to go with her Plan B. Not everyone on the supernatural grapevine was enthusiastic about the return of the Tuatha Dé. Some elements wouldn't mind being paid to go cause trouble to those headache inducing deities, like a few surviving Fomorians…
It was rather distasteful, but she was willing to go the extra mile if it meant bringing their King back home where he should be. While Féth Fíada made pinpointing his exact position impossible, the Fair Folk still living on Earth could feel his presence in a general area and report it to her. He was much subtler than before, she had to give him that, but his presence was still leaking. That he was accompanied by the Witch of Dun Scaith almost everywhere he was going was regrettable, but she could adjust her plans. A monogamous pagan deity romancing a god-slayer. Truly unbelievable. This modern era was so strange…
XxX
The energy gathered by the prayers of the townsfolk of River's End had slowly but surely made its way back to Earth. While it wasn't intelligent per see, it was moved by some kind of collective will. Some unknown force wanted it to go to the right deity. Harry wasn't suspecting anything, Scáthach and he were currently having a friendly dinner at Luna and Hermione's place when the light came from nowhere and collided with him violently. Of course, it was enough to send him, with the chair he was sitting on, to the ground. The strange light seemingly purred like a cat, loving itself against the Celt god's chest before it seeped inside his being without leaving a trace. Just before Harry could get up and reassure both his old friends and lover that he was fine, his power surged violently around him without any previous warnings.
Scáthach was quick to act the second she saw that her lover had no control over his power and that it was negatively affecting his all too mortal friends. She put herself between them and used her own considerable power as a crude barrier of sorts, while barking at him
«Harry, put yourself back together! You're going to kill Luna and Hermione if you don't bring your power to heel!»
While trying to deal with the fiery green aura that was erupting from all over his skin, Harry barked back, with a hint of panic
«I'm trying! I'm trying! But the flow of energy simply won't stop! I don't understand what's going on!»
In the end, Harry had to teleport far away from any human settlement, this strange power surge coming out of nowhere wasn't looking like it would be slowing down anytime soon. So absorbed into his trial, he hadn't even noticed that he hadn't used apparition for his quick vanishing act. It took the better part of two hours for the surge to die down and a few minutes after that for Harry to realize that his base power had somehow grown. Not by leaps and bounds by any means, but it was still a considerable difference. Keeping a tight lid on his power to not overly affect the human populace had just become more difficult it seemed. As if it was easy to begin with, ugh. Just as he was considering going back to pick-up his girlfriend, she surprised him by emerging from a shadow nearby. Blinking with clear surprise, Harry spoke up
«Now that's a new one. I thought only Hades and his children could do that?»
Scáthach scoffed derisively at him for the question but answered all the same
«I'm the Queen of the Land of Shadows, Manannan. I could travel like that ever since the Tuatha Dé first settled on the island that would become known as Eire. I don't have much good to say about those fools drunk on their own power and the serial rapists down in what became known as Greece.»
Harry didn't ask for more information. The Hellenistic pantheon in general didn't particularly interest him, except perhaps Poseidon and a few members of his court. He wouldn't mind talking shop with a fellow friendly sea deity in the near future…
In the following weeks, the same scenario happened repeatedly. There was no rhyme or reason to it, but sometimes those power surges had the worst timing ever! One late evening, a surge arrived just when he and Scáthach started to be intimate, killing the mood instantly. Both went to sleep rather frustrated that night. The straw that broke the camel's back so to speak happened while he was travelling to the Isle of the Blessed to go check on the Knights of the Round. The surge of power hit him like a bullet train just as he closed the door back to the World of the Living, making him lose control of his divine powers once more. While his aura was once more visible, Sguaba Tuinne stopped advancing and immediately started sinking towards the sea floor.
This time, Harry had the good idea of sending the extra power he received directly towards the Knights, replenishing their diminishing pools of mana and erasing all traces of fatigue for all thirteen of them. Their contracts allowed them to use his extremely vast pools of energy to sustain themselves and then some, but only Lancelot and Mordred were the kind to draw more mana from him than the strict minimum when they weren't in a fight. It was a good thing he was alone during this trip, or else his beloved would currently be drowning, since even if he had put a dome over his coracle, his sudden loss of control would have made it vanish. He could breathe underwater and endure the pressure of the depths, but not her. After marshalling his powers back under his control with an annoyed growl, the Man of the Sea quickly breached the surface. Once on shore, he shooed the curious Knights further away. He needed answers and the best person to give them to him quickly was…
«Vivianne of the Lake! I summon you!»
Using his divine authority, Harry called for his subordinate. He was satisfied when she answered quickly. She arose from the Sea of Eden five minutes later and made her way to dry land with haste. Once in front of her god, she curtsied in a formal manner and while avoiding his direct gaze, she spoke to him with deference
«You called for me, my King?»
She was no fool, even if she resented being rudely summoned like that, Mac Lir was not in a very good mood presently. Old friend or not, she would most assuredly suffer unpleasant consequences should she start being difficult or insubordinate right now.
Harry started to pace around the sandy beach, his thoughts kilometres away. Then he snapped back to the present and explained the situation
«These last few weeks, I kept receiving surges of energy at the most random of times, making me lose control over my powers and my aura. The last one was minutes ago, as I was travelling from the World of the Living to the World of the Dead. I need your help in finding where those surges are coming from so I can get to the bottom of things. It's becoming harder and harder to not unduly affect the mortals around me while I'm on Earth. I fear that I will accidentally kill one of my loved ones due to an uncontrolled surge if things continue in that vein.»
After being permitted to approach and to examine him, Vivianne's nose scrunched in a rather adorable manner while she was concentrating. Harry might be in a committed relationship, but he wasn't blind for all that. The Fae was a very beautiful woman, with bountiful curves in all the right places. He understood why his predecessor was so obsessed with her. His thoughts veered on another subject. He still didn't know what had caused the bad blood between his subordinate and his lover, since neither wanted to answer his questions. But he knew better than to press either of them. Vivianne, while lacking in raw power, was quite the crafty sorceress. The fact that Merlin was still imprisoned centuries after the fall of Camelot was proof enough. She might find a way to stick an unpleasant curse on him given enough time and motivation.
As for Scáthach, she was a peerless fighter and more than able to fight against him on equal grounds even when he was going full throttle. Her runic magic may lack in versatility compared to other kinds of spellcraft, but she had untold millennia of experience to draw upon. What scared him the most though, were her spears. If she managed to give him a mortal wound with either of them, he was a goner. He knew she had no reason to try and kill him, but with such a woman, you never know. Harry was pretty sure he had her measure by now, they spent the last five years living together after all. So with all that considered, when they both told him to stop nosing around about that particular subject, he chose the safest and most sane thing to do and dropped it.
His musings came to an end when Vivianne was wrapping up her examination. Knowing better than to beat around the bush due to his current mercurial mood, The Lady of the Lake shared her findings without prompting.
«Your Highness, what you experienced was in fact a concentrated form of the energy you would normally receive from individual prayers. I don't exactly understand how it was possible to condense it so much, but whoever did that knew how to work the bond linking a deity and his faithful. It is in my personal opinion that someone is calling you home, since the surges are all coming from Tír na nÓg.»
Harry frowned heavily at hearing that. He had avoided Tír na nÓg deliberately over the past few months, trying to regain missing memories of what it was like before his predecessor left. But to his displeasure, with the merge finally complete, there was a distinct lack of information about the subject. It was like the original Mac Lir had grown so weary and bored of the place that he simply left it in the hands of someone else with the firm intent of never going back. But it seems that someone was trying to get his attention and had succeeded. After his tumultuous school career, Harry had tried to develop his capacity to plan beforehand. To be honest, It was still a work in progress, but he was a bit less impulsive than before...
After a short silence, he said in a more amiable tone of voice
«Thank you for coming so promptly and for finding the answer to my questions, Vivianne. You're dismissed.»
The Lady of the Lake curtseyed once again, then answered
«As you wish, Lord Mac Lir.»
In no time at all, the water faery turned around and walked back from where she came from. After she vanished back to her own Realm or wherever she was before his call, he tore his gaze away from the horizon. Frowning, Harry conjured a simple wooden chair and sat on it to reflect on what his next move would be. His thinking was interrupted after a few minutes by Mordred, who had her helmet off. The diminutive knight was looking somewhat insecure, which was odd since she usually was quite boisterous.
«Hum, Lord Mac Lir? »
Harry blinked a bit refocusing on his Servant and answered her calmly
«Yes? Is there something wrong, Mordred?»
«Hum, I was wondering if we could come with you to Tír na nÓg? I believe I can speak for all my comrades-in-arms that the Isle of the Blessed, while beautiful, is utterly boring. There's absolutely nothing to do here and picking fights with my fellow knights for shits and giggles became dull weeks ago.»
Now that was an entertaining idea he hadn't considered before, Taking the Knights with him. Agravain's spy expertise would be most welcome in figuring out his kingdom's current political climate. And the others' martial skills likely wouldn't be amiss either if things turned sour. Seeing as the diminutive knight was waiting for an answer he told her
«You make a valid point. With Kokabiel gone, there is no need to keep you all here. Very well, all aboard then. I have to go back to pick up my lover though, she would be quite cross with me if I were to leave her behind.»
Soon enough, all thirteen knights climbed aboard Sguaba Tuinne, with the divine chariot having become much bigger to accommodate all those new passengers. Harry lost no time in putting a dome of divine magic over the top of his coracle and mentally ordering it to dive once they were far enough from the dock. The door between the Worlds of the Living and the Dead could be opened on the surface, but it was easier and less taxing to do so underwater. Also it was easier that way to make sure there would be no stowaways looking to flee on either side. Once back in the World of the Living, Harry had his coracle surface on the Thames, well hidden by his magical mist. Harry had just enough time to lower the protective dome and immobilize it near one bank of the river, before his lover vaulted acrobatically on board. After discussing things together, they were in accord that it was time to go look at what was happening in his ancestral kingdom. But beforehand, they would just have to make a pit stop on the Isle of Man.
Harry had promised his dear friends a trip to one of the Celtic Otherworlds and he would keep his word. One quick warp later from the Thames to the Irish sea, they were now making good time towards his island. It was quite a nice day and the breeze was rather lovely, so they sailed on the surface at ludicrous speed. Far too soon, they moored in the marina and Féth Fíada was up to the task to make them utterly uninteresting. From there it was a real whirlwind of activity. As usual, Hermione wasn't happy that Harry's impulsive nature made him spring this trip on her by surprise, but she couldn't deny that going to Tír na nÓg was an opportunity of a lifetime that she would be a fool to miss. Finding Luna while Hermione was busy packing was both easy and difficult. He could feel her just fine but he still had to pinpoint her exact location.
For some reason, she was sitting on the roof of Hermione's bookstore, watching the clouds or was it the horizon? Harry wasn't certain. Just as he was pondering conjuring some water to splash her to get her attention, she snapped out of her trance and waved at him. Before he could do or say anything, Luna recklessly jumped from her perch and it was only his supernatural reflexes that allowed him to easily catch her and the fact that the building wasn't all that high. It didn't mean he wasn't going to give her the stink eye for her stunt though, which he proceeded to do but was entirely ignored. Typical.
Luna was Luna. There were no other words he could really use to describe her. After dropping her to the ground, she zeroed in on Bedivere and started to rain questions on a multitude of subjects, forcing him to answer quickly, much to the amusement of his fellow Knights. Harry let her do as she pleased for a few more minutes before telling her with a fond smile
«Enough, Luna. Leave poor Bedivere alone will you? We're going on an extended trip to my ancestral kingdom, shouldn't you go make preparations for it? You can ask him your questions while on the road, so to speak.»
Luna pouted a bit and tried the infamous puppy dog eyes, but Harry held firm. If his favourite reporter got her way, they wouldn't leave for Tír na nÓg for days if not weeks.
«Oh, poo. You're such a killjoy, Harry. Fine, fine, I'll play the responsible adult for now. But there better be pudding after that or else…!»
Then to mess with her friend, she added more sway to her hips, smiling widely when she heard him groan. Yup, she still had it! Luna wasn't about to get between him and his girlfriend, but it didn't mean she couldn't flaunt her womanly attributes for teasing purposes when she knew he couldn't help but to look.
XxX
It took a while, but eventually the entire group trouped back aboard Manannan's Divine Chariot for a trip to the unknown. They sailed until they were far away from any piece of land before stopping. To open a door to his kingdom, he needed to use Fragarach. His predecessor had long ago separated Tír na nÓg from the Human world after he caught his wife having her way with the Hound of Ulster. Calling his blade from his pocket dimension, Harry simply held it aloft before slashing it across the air. A seafoam green energy blade escaped from the edge of Fragarach, cutting a door between realities. They were just about to cross when a source of powerful demonic energy appeared overhead. From out of nowhere, Ruval Phenex was now «standing» between them and the portal.
The Pureblood Devil was flying through the air with pyroclastic wings sprouting from his back, trying to look formidable and/or intimidating. Before Harry could ask him why he was blocking them, Ruval spoke first, tone somewhat harsh and uncompromising.
«That is quite enough. Kindly close back that portal and turn around. Your lover and you have made a fool out of me for the last time. You will go back to dry land and you will answer my questions or else I will call my entire peerage and we will expel you both from those shores, by force if necessary.»
In trying to back up his threat, Ruval flared out his considerable power, which was much higher than the teaser the Phenex heir had called upon during their first meeting. Not that it was all that threatening to Harry as he was now. Having better things to do than to humor the so-called supernatural overseer of the British Islands, the Man of the Sea commanded a huge wave to form and sent the wannabe firebird into the drink. When Ruval surfaced hacking and coughing, it was to see Sguaba Tuinne pass through the portal only for it to shut down right after. What Ruval hadn't noticed and wouldn't know for a while longer, his fall into the Irish sea was caught on picture. It seems that Tristan's talent for archery could be used for photography as well. The red headed knight had managed to take many shots in a few seconds. The blackmail folder for His Grace Lucifer was growing neatly.
They appeared on the other side, on an eerily calm sea, little to no wind, no waves. The sea was like a mirror. The sky was mostly clear, barring a few clouds here and there. At the North-North-West horizon, they could distantly see the island of Tír na nÓg. The sheer quality of the magic in the air was intoxicating. Here, Humanity hadn't subjugated the World. In fact, the Fair Folk did their very best to live in symbiosis with their Realm instead. All those aboard the Coracle were silent as they approached the fishing port near the river's mouth. Seeing the place deserted was disconcerting, Harry had expected the port to be a beehive of activity since it was such a nice day out there. But it worked for him and his companions just as way they could explore a bit before being roped into any kind of shenanigans by the locals. Their little troupe came ashore one after the other. The Knights took a discreet defensive formation around Hermione and Luna, since among their group, those two were the most vulnerable.
Their contractor and his lover were more than capable of handling themselves against whatever was awaiting them. Luna and Hermione were magical humans, thus more fragile. They took a cobbled path leading away from the harbor, only to finally hear the sounds of musical instruments. Much further inland, they could see a large imposing Keep and closer to the hill they were currently standing upon, they could see a thriving town, one of those that could often be seen in the countryside of Ireland. But what got everyone's attention was first a group of villagers wearing what looked like tap shoes and were gearing up for some kind of performance in the town square. Further away, sitting on a wooden throne like chair on a dais, was a woman with an ethereal beauty observing the proceedings with clear interest. Harry's sixth sense also told him that she was an extremely powerful Fae, so he might be looking at their Queen for all he knew.
The dancers and musicians seemed to be waiting for her signal before starting. Harry had to admit to being curious, so he was in no hurry to move from his spot. But sadly he wouldn't have the chance to stay inconspicuous for long. The Fae had somehow discovered his presence, since now she was clearly looking at him. It was kind of his fault, he hadn't thought of hiding his presence at all. Seeing her expectant gaze, Harry let out a small sigh before slowly making his way down the hill towards the town itself, his hands in his jeans' pockets. As he was passing by, the inhabitants were all staring at him with a strange mix of hope and wariness. Once he was at the foot of the dais, the Fae got up gracefully from her throne and walked down to meet him. She looked at him intensely and silently for a few seconds before smiling somewhat vindictively before saying out loud so everyone would hear her
«Citizens of River's End! Hear my voice! The King Has Come Home!»
Harry was then assaulted by a cacophony of voices, each repeating over and over
«LONG LIVE THE KING!»
«LONG LIVE THE KING!»
«LONG LIVE THE KING!»
«LONG LIVE THE KING!»
Then the Fae spoke again over the cheering, voice light and airy but with a certain tone of schadenfreude barely hidden behind it
«All Hail, Manannan Mac Lir, Lord of Capes, King of Tír na nÓg, God of the Sea and Ferryman of the Dead! Hail!»
The mantra was repeated multiple times by his exuberant people
«Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail! Hail!»
Harry had only one word to say to all that
«Bugger…»