A Date With Faet - 125. Educated

I had another sip of juice, then my attention returned to the old book I was reading. I was alone in the study today, with a small stack of books on the table in front of me. A full week after returning to the castle I finally had some time to relax and read.

I thought after I got rid of Niall and Colm we’d all have ten days to relax and take it easy, then I’d take us to the other Duma Dé and prepare for our meeting. And maybe if I’d put my foot down and made it an order or something, we would have.

Instead, Siobhan decided we should take the opportunity for some rigorous training and drilling. So for the past seven days, dawn till dusk, we were out in the courtyard practicing with sword and bow and dagger. And to be fair, Kelly and Keira and I all actually needed the training. Especially me.

Siobhan knew it too, and she made sure my training was intense. Now I had the callouses on both hands to show for the week of heavy practice. I was still nowhere near ready to get in a sword fight, but the captain was satisfied I wouldn’t embarrass myself if I actually had to draw my weapon.

And she was mildly pleased with my archery skills, considering I had less than two years of experience with the bow.

Laoise and Merryweather weren’t excused from the exercises either, though they both had very different regimens. In the few moments I had to spectate, I was impressed with the ex-lieutenant’s skill with her crossbow. She was deadly accurate with it of course, and she had a technique for loading it that didn’t strain her right arm at all.

She utilized a peculiar metal claw thing on her belt. She’d slip her boot into the crossbow’s stirrup then crouch and hook the claw on her belt onto the string. Then when she straightened up, it meant she was using her leg muscles to draw the bow. Then she’d raise it up with her left hand, while her right hand slipped the bolt into place.

She was also pretty ferocious with her dagger in her left hand, and of course she was an expert with fire magic. As much as I hoped we wouldn’t get into an actual battle, I was confident if we did Laoise wouldn’t let us down.

Merryweather was another surprise. On the one hand you wouldn’t expect a four-inch-tall person with a two-inch sword to be all that effective. Their sword looked like something you’d expect to see holding an olive or two at the bottom of a martini.

On the other hand, there’s a reason why some fae are scared of pixies. The little enby revealed why when they demonstrated their skills and technique.

I already knew they flew rather slowly and erratically, at least when they were visible. But pixies could turn themselves invisible and when they did, they could fly like a hawk rather than a dragonfly. And the little sword was less like a cocktail skewer and more like a pointy razor-blade.

Their small size meant they could easily find the gaps in even the best armour, and they tended to go for the most-vulnerable areas like eyes and throats. Merryweather demonstrated on a row of a dozen targets. They left my shoulder and vanished in a burst of speed only to return seven or eight seconds later, and in the interim all twelve targets received a slash at throat level.

Siobhan and Padraig were almost over their fear of the tiny enby but after that demonstration they were both a little wary again. Laoise and the twins and me were just as impressed, but we all knew Merryweather was a friend and an honorary clannmate.

One other interesting detail I discovered was when Merryweather turned invisible I could still see them if I used my sight. Or rather, I couldn’t see them but I could see their aura, which was a bright indigo colour.

So the past week had kept me very busy, but this morning I’d finally put my foot down. The others were all at it again, but today I needed to do some research. And I had plans for tomorrow as well.

I was finally reading up on fae mythology, to see what I could find out about the name Ruad Rofhessa. I’d already gone through three books and was partway through the fourth. I wasn’t reading them cover to cover, I mostly just glossed them and only stopped to read slowly and carefully when I found sections or passages relating to my great-great-grandfather.

What I’d found so far had me feeling a mix of awe, anxiety, and wonder.

Ruad Rofhessa was known as ‘the mighty lord of great knowledge’, and he was said to be the God of druidry and magic.

That sort of fit of course, considering the manifestation of his gift was Taralynn’s famous magical talent, which I’d inherited. And he appeared to Saoirse in robes and holding a tall wood staff, which sort of fit my mental image of a druid.

He was depicted as a large, tall man with red hair and a red beard, and that matched how he looked in Taralynn’s story. It left me questioning where my great-grandmother got her purple hair from. It didn’t come from Saoirse, she was a blonde. I’d been told purple hair was rare among fae, and I’d never even seen anyone else who had it.

I also wondered about our family’s stature. I had no idea how tall Saoirse was, Taralynn didn’t mention that in her tale. And while Taralynn was probably as tall as my girlfriends, Aisling was a few inches shorter. And my mother and I were both tiny.

It was probably nothing, but the height and the hair were a couple details I was curious about. I’d originally assumed they were long-standing family traits. I was surprised the first time I met Taralynn to find she wasn’t small, and now I’d been surprised again to discover our purple hair seemed to come out of nowhere four generations ago.

As I continued looking through the fourth book, I finally found the next big revelation. In Taralynn’s story, Saoirse knew that the name Ruad Rofhessa was an alias, she knew who he really was. Now I knew as well, and with that knowledge came another dose of awe and anxiety.

Ruad Rofhessa was one of many names that were attributed to another fae God known as The Dagda.

Apparently The Dagda was one of the strongest Gods in the mythos. He was considered a king among the Gods, and was a father-figure or perhaps actually father to several other Gods. He was supposed to be incredibly powerful, and his name was supposed to mean ‘The Good God’ or ‘The Great God’.

As I read on, I learned he was married to a Goddess called The Morrigan. And she was said to be a jealous wife. That made me nervous, I didn’t like the idea of some Goddess having it in for our family because her husband slept with my great-great-grandmother.

I decided to look her up next, and what I found did not make me feel any better.

Apparently The Morrigan was a triple-goddess, she was sometimes described as one woman and sometimes she was referred to as three sisters. She was associated with war, fate, and sovereignty, and her symbol was the crow. I came across a couple particularly ominous things about her that seemed relevant.

She was said to be able to foretell either doom or victory in battle, and some stories suggested rather than just predicting those things she actually took an active role in combat to make sure her predictions came true.

And as a Goddess of sovereignty, she was thought to be involved in the affairs of kings. Though the stories didn’t say she would always be on the side of kings, just that she could get involved.

I finally sat back in my chair and had a few gulps of juice as I thought through what I’d just read.

Assuming all the legends and stories were true, my great-great-grandfather was a God of druidry and magic. He was also king of the Gods, and many other Gods saw him as a father, or at least a father-figure.

And his wife was potentially a jealous woman, and was Goddess of war, fate, and sovereignty. She might be on King Cathal’s side because of his royal heritage. And she might consider me and my clann as enemies because her husband cheated on her.

Or maybe she didn’t care about her husband granting a mortal woman’s prayers, and maybe she’d be neutral in regards to King Cathal’s rule. Best-case scenario, she’d be like a friendly great-great-step-mom or something, but I sure wouldn’t count on that.

In the end I decided I wouldn’t try and invoke or call upon any Gods.

Taralynn suggested a Duma Dé as the venue because the Gods would want to witness the meeting, but she didn’t say anything about them getting involved. And now that I knew what the Duma Dé really were, I planned on using that to my advantage.

I wasn’t sure yet exactly how I’d do it, but I had some ideas. I had a bit of a reputation for breaking magic and doing the impossible, and I wanted to capitalize on that in such a way as to make a lasting impression on the King and everyone else present.

I continued working through the last couple books but none of them added anything further to what I knew about the divine branch of my family tree.

After finishing my juice I put all the mythology books back where I’d found them, then started searching for history books next.

What Taralynn told me about the Duma Dé surprised me at first, but the more I thought about it the more sense it made. I knew I wouldn’t find that information in books, but I was curious to learn what the fae had to say about our ancient past.

I knew every culture on Earth had some kind of origin story, some way to explain or describe where they came from. I figured the fae would have something like that too, but I hadn’t heard it yet.

For a race with a thousand-year lifespan I originally thought they’d have some detailed historical records that went back almost forever, but to my surprise they didn’t seem that interested in the subject. Most of what they called history was what humans would call tradition, and the fae didn’t seem to care about when their traditions started or why they began.

The fae I’d asked about the subject over the past six years all seemed to view ‘history’ as a subject that only covered about four generations. Stuff that happened when their great-grandparents were in their prime was history, and whatever happened before that was too ancient to contemplate.

That translated to about two thousand years, if you counted generations as being about five hundred years apart. It varied of course, but most fae children were born when their parents were between three hundred and six hundred years old, so it was a fairly good approximation.

Thinking of it in human terms, it felt especially odd.

If humans were like that, ‘history’ would be whatever happened a hundred years ago and anything older than that was just forgotten. That kind of mindset would leave people believing the airplane had always existed, along with automobiles electricity and the steam engine.

In the end I didn’t find any books about fae history. It seemed odd, but also fit with the theory I’d been developing since my meeting with Taralynn.

Combining the truth about the Duma Dé with various other clues and random facts I’d come across over the past six years, I figured I had a pretty good idea where the fae really came from. And why we had such an aversion to that subject.

I sat back down at the table and poured myself another glass of juice as I thought about everything I’d read, and what I hadn’t found. I put my theory aside for now, it was a curiosity but wasn’t actually helpful at the moment.

What I’d learned about The Dagda and The Morrigan was more pertinent to our current situation. I wouldn’t be trying to summon or contact them, but if I could avoid accidentally angering either of them that would be a good start.

Finally I turned my thoughts ahead to my plans for tomorrow.

I’d lost track of the days again, but I knew it was at least three weeks since me and the twins left Earth. I needed to check in and make sure Elise and Susan were ok. So at dawn I’d cross back over for one day so I could follow-up with them.

Kelly and Keira were a little unhappy about the fact that I’d be going alone. It would just be twenty-four hours though, and I promised to stay out of trouble.

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