Good to be Home

April 5, 2025. Location: Doras Dhagda, Scottish Highlands. Memory Perspective: Robert MacCallum.

The gates of Doras Dhagda stood firm in the fading light, their stones glowing with quiet magic. Ancient runes pulsed along the frame, sensing our approach. It was hard to believe we had been in there for over four days, Earth time. Time really moves oddly when inside the sanctums. It seems like sometimes we've only been gone minutes. Other times, like this time, it felt like a day trip, but time on Albion was moving faster.

It really makes no bloody sense. Like everything that connects us to Albion is warping time perhaps? I can't help but wonder what's happening on that side. If we are entering different sanctums at the same time, does that mean different parts of Albion are aging slower or faster than other parts? It left me with a lot to think about on the walk back. Time stuff never made sense to me.

I lifted my eyes to the welcome sight of home. Past the gates, the settlement bustled with a mix of Celtic heritage and glowing enchantments. The air itself felt charged with anticipation. From a distance, one could occasionally see streaks of pinpoint light shooting off into the sky. Almost like fireworks, all different colored streaks of thin light, as if the city was shooting off sparks. Moira let me know that this was just the ley lines releasing excessive charges to maintain their flow.

Whatever that meant.

As we approached, watchmen kobolds on the walls spotted us and shouted a signal. Their calls echoed from one guard to another, growing into cheers.

By the time we reached the entrance, the gates swung open, and a surge of familiar faces rushed forward, smiling brightly with welcome.

Lillia darted out first, her green eyes shining with relief. Dark curls bounced as she ran, silent joy lighting her features.

She hurled herself into my arms, her expression saying more than any words. Without hesitation, I held her tight, warmth flowing between us.

The way she leaned against me felt like returning home after a long storm. She pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, and the small gesture left me breathless. I could feel her soft form pressing against me as we embraced, and I knew I had missed her more than life itself.

Before I realized it, I spun her in a light arc, surprised at how easily she glided in my arms. Her silent laughter sparkled in her eyes, stirring a fierce longing in my chest.

As Lillia stepped back, her fingers trailed on mine for a moment, a silent promise. Interrupting, Rauri, her brother, stepped forward, his usual energy charging the moment like a bright flare.

"There you are!" he called, seizing Hamish's arm in a solid greeting. "You've been gone almost a week. We were about to send a search party."

He turned to Chaucer next. "And you, Rat Assassin. I was sure you'd come back in one piece."

Chaucer put a hand to his chest in mock offense. "One piece? I'm the star here! Let it be known the Fairy Queen herself fell by my hand."

This made those nearby laugh as though he'd delivered the best punchline. Then he hurried to the kobold patrols, who greeted him with cheers and playful roughhousing. The mouse-like kobold men stood shorter than Chaucer, but he was their hero. They were obviously extremely proud of him. Especially since he got to be invited with the major players of Doras Dhagda. Hearing that he did indeed deliver the killing attack on a terrifying foe, they hoisted him up onto their shoulders, many little furry feet bouncing as they tossed him up and down in the air. The humans laughed amusedly at their furry guardians.

As the crowd began to enter into the city, Chaucer spoke to his friends, "Wait, wait! This is super fun! But I need to tell the whole story!" They finally and respectfully lowered him to the ground once more, many paws patting him on the back.

Springing onto a crate, he launched into a vivid tale of our exploits, his voice carrying cleverly, exaggerating everything, but it delighted all who stayed to listen. It was mostly correct.

Smiling, Snow made her way through the crowd, staff tapping gently against the stones. She found Sorcha near the hearth, where flames danced like they were listening in. Snow's words spilled out quickly to her friend. They had quickly grown close in their time training and visiting together. Snow respected her greatly.

"Sorcha, you won't believe what we discovered! Her sanctum, her treasure, everything. It was incredible. And terrifying. I learned so much!" She clutched her staff, traces of frost still at her fingertips.

Sorcha nodded, calm and watchful. She encouraged Snow with small smiles, letting her recount every detail. Her wise eyes reflected the firelight, as though she saw even deeper truths behind Snow's story.

We started to settle, the clan slowly gathering around. Soon, Moira's voice filled our thoughts. It was both kind and commanding, like a guiding hand placed gently on our shoulders.

"You have served Albion well, my chosen," she said, her tone echoing through our minds. "The west was unknown to us, and now its secrets are revealed. For your bravery, you are granted fresh wisdom and a token of Albion's power."

A golden light enveloped each of us, warm as morning sun. Our thoughts felt clearer, as though new knowledge had been woven into our minds.

Tangible gifts appeared in our hands, each bristling with promise. I turned over a fine silvery sash that had runic patterns stitched into it all along its length. It gleamed in the moonlight. As I analyzed it, it became clear to me that it was the Tiger Prince's Royal Sash. It provided me sudden bursts of speed when melee attacking, a twenty percent chance to occur. One in five strikes, it would seem, would happen with blinding speed.

A fascinating treasure, though my focus was on magic, there are times bonking a creature on the head is simply more effective. "This will be a great help," I murmured, slipping it on.

Hamish flexed his fingers in brand-new Radiant Gauntlets. Runes glowed across the backs, a steady light pushing away shadows.

"These babies are stunnin'," he said, voice soft with respect. "I think they'll prove handy against anything polluted with Dark."

He clenched his fists, and a pulse of light rippled across them, sending a few startled kobolds scurrying.

Snow's new Orb of Perpetual Frost hovered close to her chest, gently chilling the air.

"It fits right in with what I've been practicing," she said, storing it in a pouch at her belt. Tiny flakes swirled around her wrist, a playful glimpse of the frosts she could conjure.

Chaucer swept a Cloak of Shadows over his shoulders, the fabric shifting like living shade.

"Well, if I wasn't sneaky enough before, I am now," he joked, winking at the onlookers. He pulled it tight, disappeared for a second, and reappeared several feet away with a dramatic bow, amusing those nearby.

Langston stood off to one side, staring at the strange bracelet he'd taken from the fairy queen. Its metal surface caught the firelight, runes pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. The crowd mostly remained polite with him, but cold. They didn't trust him yet. Neither did I, for that matter.

He lifted a hand, and the veins on his wrist glowed blue when they neared dense magic. The bracelet seemed to respond to something in his blood. During one battle, I saw it release spinning threads that siphoned magical energy to form electric blasts. Very much like the Taser he had used. Could that thing learn from his technological toys and emulate them?

Now, he studied it with a mix of fascination and fear, jaw set tight. I decided to head over to him.

"What do you think it does?" I asked, keeping my voice calm.

Langston's eyes never left the device. "It's beyond what I expected. Advanced. And dangerous."

I noticed a dim glow under his skin. "You should let Sorcha look at it," I offered.

"No," he snapped, cradling it protectively. "I'll handle it myself."

His words were sharp, but the way he held it spoke of alarm as much as anger. In response to his emotion, the glove sparked and made clicking noises, as if it was reacting to a threat.

Hamish's voice cut through the tension. "Oy, Langston! Your new partner's acting up again. Maybe sweet-talk her a bit?" There was rough humor in his tone, but also concern.

Langston glared back, muttering something I couldn't hear.

Finally, he strode away, leaving the rest of us to the clan's welcome and the feast that followed. I watched him for a moment, aware how careful we must be with him. He could either turn on us all, or simply leave with his new treasure. Hopefully, he'd just leave on his own to seek out his fate.

The gathering soon came alive with the clan's best fare: fresh bread, roasted meats, and richly spiced stews. The flavors could've been simple talent, or they could've been boosted by a touch of magic. Either way, they warmed me to the bone.

Chaucer also declared himself the best dancer, leading a swirl of spins and dips that even the kobolds tried to unsuccessfully copy. Rauri and Hamish spiritedly bantered with each other, trying to vie for the attention from a group of clan women. They were quite happy to oblige the handsome warriors.

Eventually, I went looking for Lillia again. I snuck up behind her and slipped my arms around her waist. She leaned back against my chest, sliding her hands on my arms, fully welcoming my presence. I nibbled her ear, just a little, and I could feel her shiver with delight, when she abruptly turned to me and pulled my hands, leading me off to some other place.

Lillia and I found a quiet spot, letting the music lull us into a gentle sway. We danced slowly and sweetly. Her silent laughter matched the soft instruments on the other side of the tents.

I drew her close, the pulse of music fading as my blood raced in my ears. Without thinking, I kissed her. A light brush of lips. "I have so missed you, Lillia."

Pulling back, I saw her cheeks color at first, then brighten in a smile that could have lit the entire grove. She looped her arms around my neck and kissed me again, passion flaring like a spark in dry leaves.

Her warmth ran through me, stronger than any campfire. I let myself go for a moment, heart settling into a new harmony with hers.

Then Moira's gentle whistle sounded in our minds, a soft nudge that shattered the spell. Lillia huffed wordlessly, her face flushing. She held my face in her palms. Her magic whispered to me. "She said we should go back. We can 'play' later."

Sighing, I shrugged and we returned to the party, hand in hand. The fact she could communicate to me by touch would never grow old. Her spirit voice, as I called it, held a musical quality to it that swept me off my feet.

She brought me a cup of sweet mead, the honeyed taste matching her grin. Nearby, Snow held off a series of polite suitors, each attempt bolder than the last. She responded with kind gestures, sending them away disappointed but respectful. She would only shake her head amusedly at each boisterous boast and attempt to win her affections.

Later, I noticed Langston sitting at the edge of the celebrations, an outsider in his own mind. He watched the singing and dancing with a distant stare, as though he wanted to join but didn't know how. His eyes flicked to the bracelet on his wrist, confusion and longing in his expression.

He'd always trusted science and logic. Now he was face-to-face with a world that neither obeyed nor cared about those rules.

I recalled telling him, "Magic's only limit is imagination." Judging by the storm behind his gaze, those words had stayed with him.

He brushed a hand across the device, the runes lighting up faintly. Doubts and questions seemed to weigh on him.

Quietly, he muttered something about imagination being wider than knowledge, sounding as though it made him feel lost.

As the feast drew to a close, clan members drifted to their tents, laughter trailing off with the smoke. The air stilled, carrying the warmth of shared stories and the promise of tomorrow.

Lillia and I exchanged a lingering look before she returned to her family, leaving my hand cold where hers had been.

Though it was late, I still felt drawn to the fairy sanctum core. I reached into my pocket dimension, retrieving the relic we'd taken from the queen.

STEVE's loud voice boomed in my ear, trying to deliver the week's reports and criticize Ewan MacEwan's leadership style.

"Inefficient," he declared in that dry tone of his. "Too focused on worker morale."

I hushed him, promising to review it in the morning. My mind was already on the core and its lingering menace.

Inside DAVE's sanctum, the cheerful crystal greeted me with eager light. It was quiet here, compared to the music and dancing outside. It was a welcome relief.

"Ah, My Lord! Finder of secrets, master of possibilities! How may I serve?" So much for the quiet.

"You can start by easing up on the compliments," I said, holding out the fairy sanctum core. Its surface rippled with dark energy, remnants of the queen's power still active within.

DAVE's light dimmed instantly. "This is worse than anything we've absorbed before," he said, voice suddenly serious. "That hatred still lives inside it."

I placed a hand on his crystal surface. "We'll go slow. If it becomes too risky, we stop. But we have to see if there's anything useful in there. And I trust you."

DAVE brightened a bit at that, though worry still colored his glow. "I'll do what I can, My Lord," he said, filaments of light extending from his form.

Each strand reached for the dark core, starting to pull in its power a little at a time. The air crackled with unseen energies as DAVE's light touched the darkness.

Each strand trembled when it contacted the core's surface. I channeled steady flows of light and earth magic, creating a barrier between DAVE and the corrupting influence.

DAVE latched on to my aid, pulling the power out of me. I could feel the effort it took him to resist that first touch's influence. The strain made my vision blur at the edges.

Even with our precautions, the core pulsed with increasing strength. "My Lord," DAVE's voice wavered slightly. "I'm detecting unusual patterns beneath the surface. This corruption feels purposeful."

Even then, concern gnawed at my insides. This core was a vessel for something we barely understood, taking the form of an Unseelie Fae queen. Its representation of its power. Even though we had defeated her, she still lived inside this core.

I risked losing DAVE to it if something went wrong. But I held my ground, channeling energy into him, determined not to let the fairy queen's final curse remain unchecked.

The core pulsed again, stronger this time. DAVE's light flickered, just for a moment.

"There's something else inside," he whispered. "Something angry."