Chapter 9: The Battle of the Boyne

The dawn sky over the River Boyne was streaked with crimson, as if the heavens themselves bled for the battle to come. Kael stood on a ridge overlooking the river, the Gáe Bolg in hand, its runes glowing with a steady blue light. Below, the Ulster warriors—bolstered by Brigid's healing—had taken their positions along the riverbank, their bronze armor glinting in the early light. Conchobar had implemented Kael's plan: archers hid in the trees, warriors formed a shield wall at a narrow bend in the river, and a small contingent waited in reserve to flank the enemy. The Boyne's swift currents churned, a natural barrier that would slow the Fomorians.

Aífe stood beside Kael, her spear and shield ready, her blue eyes sharp with anticipation. "Your plan better work, spear-bearer," she said, her tone teasing but tinged with trust. "I'd hate to die because of a bad 'story.'"

Kael grinned, adjusting his leather tunic. "Trust me, Aífe. I've played enough strategy games to know this'll work. Funnel them, hit hard, and flank—classic."

Brigid, her fiery red hair glowing like a beacon, stood on his other side, her hands shimmering with healing light as she blessed the warriors below. "Your heart burns bright, Kael Lughson," she said, her voice warm but firm. "But Balor's eye is a darkness even my flames may struggle to pierce. Be cautious."

Morrígan materialized nearby, her cloak swirling with crow imagery, her crimson eyes scanning the horizon. "They come," she said, her voice a low growl. "Prepare yourselves."

The ground trembled as the Fomorian army emerged from the morning mist—a horde of hulking brutes, their barnacle-crusted bodies towering over the trees, their single glowing eyes casting an eerie light. At their head loomed Balor, his massive frame dwarfing even the largest Fomorians, his eye a furnace of malevolent power, half-lidded but radiating death. His presence sent a chill through the Ulster ranks, but Kael's resolve hardened. He'd trained for this, bled for this. He wasn't about to let Balor win.

Conchobar raised his sword, his voice booming. "For Ulster! For Ériu! Hold the line!"

The Fomorians charged, their roars shaking the earth, and the battle began. The river slowed their advance, their heavy bodies sinking into the muddy banks, making them easy targets for the archers. Arrows rained down, felling dozens, but the horde pressed on, their numbers threatening to overwhelm the shield wall. Kael, Aífe, Brigid, and Morrígan joined the fray, each a force of nature in their own right.

Kael moved like a whirlwind, the Gáe Bolg a blur of death. He thrust the spear into a Fomorian's chest, the curse erupting in thorny tendrils that shredded it from within, then spun to block a club strike from another, countering with a strike that dropped it instantly. Aífe fought beside him, her spear flashing as she pierced Fomorian eyes with deadly precision, her shield absorbing blow after blow. "Keep up, Kael!" she shouted, her braid whipping as she ducked a swing and retaliated with a thrust.

"Always!" Kael called back, vaulting over a fallen Fomorian to strike another, their teamwork seamless after Red Branch.

Brigid stayed near the wounded, her hands glowing as she healed gashes and broken bones, her voice rising in a poetic chant that bolstered the warriors' courage. Morrígan unleashed her crows, a storm of black wings that clawed at Fomorian eyes, forcing them to flail blindly, her longsword cutting down enemies with ruthless efficiency. "Balor approaches!" she warned, her eyes locked on the Fomorian leader.

Balor strode through the river, the water steaming around him, his eye opening wider with each step. A beam of fiery light shot from it, incinerating a group of Ulster warriors in an instant, their screams cut short as they turned to ash. The shield wall faltered, fear rippling through the ranks, but Kael stepped forward, the Gáe Bolg blazing with the Sidhe's blessing.

"Not today, ugly!" Kael shouted, charging at Balor. He dodged the first beam, his superhuman speed a blur, the heat searing the air as he rolled to the side. Balor roared, swinging a massive fist that could crush a boulder, but Kael's reflexes—honed by Scáthach and amplified by Lugh's power—kicked in. He leaped, using the Gáe Bolg to pole-vault over the strike, landing on Balor's arm. With a surge of divine strength, he drove the spear into Balor's shoulder, the curse erupting in a burst of thorny energy that tore through the Fomorian's barnacled flesh.

Balor howled, the sound a thunderclap that shook the battlefield, and swatted at Kael with his other hand. Kael jumped back, landing on the muddy bank, his sneakers slipping but his balance unshaken. "You'll have to do better than that!" he taunted, his green eyes blazing with defiance. He channeled his Sidhe magic, a trick Brigid had taught him, and summoned a gust of wind that whipped the river's water into a blinding spray, obscuring Balor's vision.

The Fomorian leader snarled, his eye glowing brighter, and unleashed a sweeping beam that carved a trench through the battlefield, forcing Kael to dive for cover behind a boulder. The heat was unbearable, singeing his hair, but Kael's mind raced—modern tactics blending with his divine power. He grabbed a fallen shield, using it to reflect the next beam, the bronze glowing red-hot but redirecting the energy into a group of Fomorians, incinerating them instead.

"Nice try!" Kael shouted, sprinting forward as Balor reeled from the unexpected counter. He tapped into Lugh's mastery of all weapons, his body moving with an instinctive grace as he hurled a discarded Fomorian club like a javelin, the projectile striking Balor's chest with enough force to crack the barnacles. Balor staggered, but retaliated with a shockwave of dark energy, the ground erupting in jagged spikes that forced Kael to leap and dodge mid-air, his superhuman agility keeping him just ahead of the deadly terrain.

Aífe joined the fight, her spear striking Balor's legs to distract him, her movements a blur of precision. "Kael, now!" she yelled, her voice fierce as she dodged a retaliatory swipe. Morrígan's crows swarmed Balor's face, clawing at his eye, while Brigid chanted a protective verse, her fiery red hair glowing as she shielded the Ulster warriors from Balor's next beam.

Kael seized the moment, his body a conduit for Lugh's power. He sprinted up a fallen tree, using it as a ramp to launch himself into the air, the Gáe Bolg glowing brighter than ever. "This ends now!" he roared, his voice echoing with divine authority. He thrust the spear downward, aiming for Balor's eye, but the Fomorian reacted, grabbing a massive boulder and hurling it at Kael mid-air. Kael twisted, his superhuman strength allowing him to shatter the boulder with a single strike of the Gáe Bolg, fragments raining down as he continued his descent.

Balor's eye unleashed another beam, but Kael was ready. The Sidhe's blessing flared, a shimmering shield of blue light that deflected the beam just enough for him to land on Balor's shoulder. With a primal yell, Kael drove the Gáe Bolg into Balor's eye, the curse erupting in a cataclysmic burst of thorny light that spiraled through the Fomorian's skull. Balor screamed, the sound a deafening wail that shook the riverbank, and staggered back, his eye dimming as he clutched his face, black blood pouring from the wound.

The Fomorians wavered, their leader wounded, and Conchobar seized the moment, ordering the reserve to flank. The Ulster warriors surged, driving the horde back across the Boyne, their war cries echoing through the valley. Balor retreated, his massive form disappearing into the mist, but his parting roar—a guttural promise of vengeance—echoed in Kael's ears.

Kael panted, leaning on his spear, the adrenaline fading to exhaustion. Aífe clapped him on the shoulder, her grin fierce. "You blinded Balor's eye, Kael. I'm starting to think you're worth keeping around."

"High praise," Kael said, managing a tired smirk, his body aching but his spirit soaring from the display of his power. Brigid approached, her red hair glowing softly, her hands healing a burn on his arm, her green eyes filled with concern and admiration.

"You fought with the heart of a true hero," she said, her voice warm, her touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. "Your power… it's a marvel, Kael Lughson."

Morrígan's crows settled around them, her expression unreadable but her tone approving. "A victory, spear-bearer. But Balor lives—and he'll come for you now."

Kael nodded, the weight of the battle settling on him. They'd won the day, but the war was far from over. With Aífe's fiery loyalty, Brigid's nurturing light, and Morrígan's shadowed guidance, he felt ready to face whatever came next—even Balor's wrath.