Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Fantasy

                 Chapter 8 ● Ronan
                      Ireland, 1915

After lunch was finished and everyone went back to their usual activities, Ronan snuck off to his favorite place. His long legs carried him across the town and woods quickly yet quietly. He walked up a hill and stopped at the edge of a Cliffside. He took in the scenery, the beautiful dark blue Ocean with the gray skies rolling in, slow and ominous. The king sat down with a soft grunt and stared out to the dark sea and observed his land, his icy blue eyes scanning casually. He stopped when he saw Muirgen enter a cave in a cliffside. Ronan arched an eyebrow and made his way towards that cliff. 
   Once he reached the top he laid down on his stomach and listened closely, he could make out his sisters laughter and a deeper voice speaking inaudibly. Ronan pursed his lips in interest, was Muirgen finally opening up to someone? Thank the Gods if she was, Ronan had been flinging suitors in her direction for three years now. Unfortunately, all of them were failures and Muirgen was still as wild as ever. He craned his neck down more so he could try to hear what was going on. That was a mistake. Ronan felt a large hand ball up his shirt from the back, flipped him over and a knife was to his throat. Ronan had raised his large hand, ice had formed around it and resembled an enduring looking icicle, but Ronan stopped when he saw who his attacker was.
    Green eyes filled with electricity stared down at him, a friendly smile was surrounded by an orange beard, the man had an undercut hair style but left the top alone to grow out. Stray ginger locks fell onto the man's forehead. He was as large and muscular as Ronan but much more expressive in his features than the King of the Sea. His eyes always seemed to twinkle with mischief, as if he had just set up a trap and is now waiting for the results of his trickery. The man always wore a cocky smirk and always sauntered more than walked. 

      "Watch ye back, bruv. Never know who's going to sneak up on ye." The ginger snickered. His voice was deep and low but had a faint metal ting to it. Like an incredibly old cow bell, or the sound you make when you hit a fork against an empty pot. Ronan tried his best to keep a straight face, but quickly he felt a small smile creep onto it instead.

      "You should watch who you're sneaking up on. I could have killed you." Ronan arched an eyebrow.

      "Aye, that...but then who'll be here to be devil ya?" The other asked.

      "I don't know, Cúchulainn. Muirgen seems to be beating you in that category." Ronan shrugged and dropped his hand, which was now wet with melted ice. Cúchulainn snapped his head up and looked around.

      "That little wench! 'Twill be tweaking her nose soon, the crater." Cúchulainn chuffed. Ronan snorted and replied.

     "Be waiting to see that, bells on and all." He  sat up and Cúchulainn sat back on the grass with a smile. The two friends stared at each other for a bit until Cúchulainn spoke up.

      "So…I hear you have a new Druid.” Cúchulainn said while ripping grass out from the ground casually.

      “Aye.” 
 
      “I also hear he hails from the East.” Cúchulainn arched an eyebrow.

      “If you heard all that then you already know who he is. Which brings me to wonder why you’re dragging this on so.” Ronan cracked his neck and looked up at the sky. It wasn’t much of a view, gray clouds rolling on endlessly blanketed the sky.

      “Emmet is something else. A child of the Morrigan, son of Aralt, a demon on the battlefield.” Cúchulainn picked up his hand that held the discarded blades of grass and blew them off.
      The blades flew farther than they should have but that was no surprise to Ronan. Cúchulainn is the King of the West and Rí na Gaoithe, he controls the wind to do his bidding. It took years to perfect this power but time was lost to him anyway; not only did the legends about this fearsome warrior state that he fought like the wind, brutal and unpredictable, but he is also ancient. Cúchulainn is the oldest and most revered king of all the clans and not once has anybody been chosen to replace him. Well, everyone but Queen Maeve, however those two always bicker and banter it would be more alarming if they stopped.

      “Tell me about his battle experience, Cúchulainn.” Ronan said. Cúchulainn sighed and shrugged.

      “A demon on the battlefield.” The King repeated. “He’s swift but has a heavy hand. He bounces-“

      “Bounces?” 

      “Aye, bounces. Like a fucking mad man, I tell ya. You know how Crows bounce?” Cúchulainn stretched out his arms and crouched then began bouncing and cawing. Ronan couldn’t help but laugh. “Caw! Caw! I’m a fuckin’ crow! I’ll peck ye eyes out, don’t touch me bread! Caw! Caaaaaw!” Cúchulainn continues. He finally sits back down and chuckles. 

      “Just like that?” Ronan snorts.

      “Just like that.” Cúchulainn echoes. 

      “That’s fucking terrifying.” 

      “I saw him play dead then spring up and impale a man through the eye and show no expression.” Cúchulainn explained. “He’s wildfire but he knows what he’s doing.”

      “Speaking of fire…how is he with magic?” Ronan asked.

      “‘Tis as if hellfire runs through his veins. You have to see it, bruv. The lads mad.” Cúchulainn shook his head. Ronan nods and let’s out a long sigh.
      The two Kings sit there in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, their eyes scan the area in different ways. Ronan scans slowly side by side while Cúchulainn’s eyes dart from one area to another, occasionally he would turn his head one direction and a breeze would pass over them. Seagulls called from above while Ronan hummed a soft tune, Cúchulainn would make the grass sway any way he wanted and tilt his head to the beat of Ronan’s humming. This went on for a while until Muirgen’s voice rang out, shattering the kingdom of casual silence the two kings built. 

     “Well come on! Aren’t you coming down?” Muirgen asked. The sound of cascading water could be heard and Ronan could only guess his sister used the water to land her on the beach safely. 

      “Stop nagging, it makes a woman unattractive.” A male voice said.

      “I will shave off your eyebrows.” Muirgen warned. 
      Ronan and Cúchulainn’s eyebrows shot up. Cúchulainn was the first standing he helped Ronan up and walked to the side of the cliff. Ronan furrowed his brows at the sight of Emmet jumping out of a cave opening, wings of black fire sprouted from his back and he flew down silently until he reached land. The druid shook his shoulders and cracked his neck as Muirgen danced around him in excitement, she clapped and gasped and kept patting his back in amazement. The Kings looked at each other and nodded then turned and looked down at Emmet and Muirgen, Emmet had froze in place as he looked up and noticed the kings while Muirgen paid no attention. 
      Cúchulainn summoned the wind and glided down onto the beach while Ronan used the water as stairs. They stood there on the beach, arms crossed over their large chests, Cúchulainn’s chin was tilted up, a smirk on the gingers face and a crackling spark in his eyes. Ronan tilted his head to the side, lips pursed and an eyebrow cocked as he waited for his sister to notice him. Emmet stared down the kings with a steely edge on his face, Muirgen must have noticed the change in the atmosphere and stopped abruptly and turned to see the new company. She arched one eyebrow at both of them and tilted her head, Ronan couldn’t deny that she was his twin when she looked like that.

      “Oi, who died?” She asked. 

      “Lainn over here came to visit.” Ronan said as he jerked his head in Cúchulainn’s direction, to which the King of the Wind nodded once.

      “Aye, hello Muirgen, love. Happy late birthday, you’re twenty now, ey?” He asked. She nods and brushes some hair behind her ear.

      “Nice to see you again, Cúchulainn. Rí cumhachtach an Iarthair.” She bows slightly. 

      “Hello, Emmet, good to see you again.” Cúchulainn said with a sarcastic undertone. “Light any pastures lately?” He chortled. Emmet’s face turned bright red and small flames appeared on his cheeks and nose.

      ‘Oh this will be fun.’ Ronan thought.

      “That was one time! It was by accident! I was practicing and-“

      “You got more than you bargained for? You let yourself slip and things got out of hand.”  Ronan raised both brows and smirked. 

      “It wasn’t so bad. Thanks to Emmet they had beef for breakfast lunch and dinner for a whole week.” Cúchulainn smiled proudly. Emmet huffed and balled his fists.

      “I’ll see you later, Muirgen.” Emmet mumbled. With a quick bow and a quick side glance to Muirgen he left. The kings watched him until he was far enough away then turned and looked at Muirgen who had put her hands on her hips and scowled at them.

      “What was that?” She hissed.

     “What was what?” They asked in unison. Muirgen’s face scrunched up and shot her hand out where Emmet had gone.

      “That! Emmet has done nothing wrong and you were taking a crack outta him for no reason.” 

      “Why do you care?” Ronan asked with a soft rumble in his voice, as if he was coddling a child.

      “Do you like him, Muirgen?” Cúchulainn cooed and batted his eyes.

       Ronan turned his head to his friend. “Well, they both enjoy magic.”

      Cúchulainn cupped his ear and leans sideways. “Are those…wedding bells I hear?” Both Kings laughed. Their laughs were booming, it sounded like the ocean and the sky during a hurricane.

      Muirgen was blushing but her face showed only anger not embarrassment. Her hands were lazily at her side and he posture was straight but you could tell she was truly angry at the sight of ice that billowed at her feet. Her sharp clear blue eyes burned icy fire at her brother and her lips were in a tight line. The ocean behind her stilled; it was too still. She jerked her chin up in Ronan’s direction to which he jerked his chin back, he didn’t care if she was mad Ronan didn’t care what she must think of him. She was his little sister and she was with a dishonorable Druid, in a cave, alone. He didn’t like Emmet, he didn’t hate him either but this was Ronan’s land. Emmet could have anyone he wanted, but not Muirgen. Not unless he showed appropriate courting, not sneaking into a cave with her.

      “I just wanted a friend.” Muirgen hissed softly. Her voice was like sea foam brushing on the sand, soft white noise that still demanded to be heard. Ronan’s smile disappeared, his expression replaced with shock. Muirgen sniffled and walked off in the opposite direction from where Emmet had gone. Ronan sighed and took a step forward to follow her.

      “Muirgen! Muirgen c-“ Ronan started. 

      “Let her go. She needs to cool down. Let’s go grab a pint, ey?” Cúchulainn asked with a half smile. Ronan looked to his friend then back to Muirgen and nodded.

      “Aye.”