Rebirth And Second Chances 100 Closing The Dungeon - Part 2

Winter that had claimed the lands of Switzerland had been held in abeyance for the entrance safe zone the Dungeon had created. As the Dungeon was deactivated, Winter's grasp roared in fury, hungry to reclaim the island of spring that had been artificially allowed to ignore the elements of snow and ice.

Earth's ambient magic was just as dense as it was before the Dungeon was destroyed, the difference was in the G.o.d Particles. The G.o.d Particles that had been flowing and streaming towards the Dungeon exit quickly adapted and found new channels to follow, easily becoming part of the ebb and flow of the planet's life cycle.

Most of the particles found a synergistic confluence when merging with the planet's ley-lines that were bulging with energy and magics. Ley-lines that were not being tapped and had swollen with acc.u.mulating energies until the constraints of pathway and channel were breached.

I didn't understand how the Planet and the population had not made use of those energies. They were the perfect renewable energy. The endless mana rivers flowing in crisscrossing interconnected potential.

The changes, as the G.o.d Particles found new pathways, would be unnoticeable to the local population. Except for the shift from spring to winter that had been localized, there was nothing noticeable. But to me, they were energizing.

The potent magic and energies flooded my mana channels. Magic that was untainted and formless was absorbed and increased and solidified the structure of my meridians and mana network. Earth's magical field was as pure as it was at the moment of creation. Untainted by spells, free of the weft and weave of array and enchantment.

Earth may have a mythology of G.o.ds, but none of them had harnessed these energies in eons, the magic was unstructured and formless. Any G.o.ds that may have once drawn upon this energy pool had abandoned this world long ago.

Which made a certain sense. Even in those Religions that were most practiced, Divine intervention and interaction had not been rampant for a millennium. Certainly, there was the occasional miracle, but most of the Pantheons of G.o.ds had been discounted as the attempts of the ignorant to explain the world around them. Long abandoned, the belief and worship for those G.o.ds were minimal and sketchy at best.

For those religions that still drew numerous worshipers, Divine intervention was rare. The maxim that G.o.d helps those that help themselves had been transformed into a Universal Paradigm. A limitation placed on worshiper and worshiped alike. Judgment waited for those that believed, but G.o.d would not interfere in the Kingdom of Man.

Realistically, by this point, He didn't need the energies of magic. Mankind's faith was enough to sustain Him.

Strangely, that connection, that essence of G.o.dhood that linked me to Beleros and Cyronax was stronger than ever. In fact, the blood that connected and defined my heritage seemed more. More there, more solid. I'd thought that that intangible thrum, the background noise of sanguine fluid, the constant reminder of lineage and pedigree would diminish once I was no longer within the sphere of influence for the Sidhe G.o.ds. Instead, I felt a deeper connection.

The enchantments that hid the Dungeon entrance were destroyed when Cedric closed down the opening between realms. I needed to move quickly before I was discovered, it would be hard to explain an almost seven-foot-tall Sidhe bathed in fire and ice. I could cast a glamour to deflect prying eyes, still my presence alone would be sure to draw attention.

If I CERN wasn't highly cla.s.sified and protected, it might not matter. But the middle of a field, in Geneva, Switzerland, owned and administered by CERN? My position relevant to CERN would be a security nightmare.

I knew d.u.c.h.ess Wynne and her people had established a base of some sort, but I wasn't sure where or how to find them. It couldn't be too far from the Hadron Collider and the computer systems that ran it; she would need a way to access and infiltrate those sub-systems and mechanics if she was going to be able to understand and process how the machine worked.

Extending my perception, I filtered out the ambient magical energies and G.o.d particles, searching for that magical signature that was unique to Sidhe. Normally safeguards would be constructed to obfuscate those magics, but the people of Earth were blind and unable to understand any strange phenomenon those energies might produce. At best, they would rationalize any discrepancies they noticed as user error or unexplained by-products that operating the Collider produced.

They may decide to study and formulate theories to explain any fluctuations their machinery might measure, but chances are they were not adroit or adept enough to doc.u.ment any meaningful inconsistencies Sidhe magic may produce. They would have better luck employing the services of mediums or psychics, even if these professions were mostly charlatans and con artists.

Ferreting out those magics that had the taint of Sidhe magic, I felt somewhat like a bloodhound must. Straining senses to follow even the smallest whiff of 'other'. My hunt was eventually successful, and the trail d.u.c.h.ess Wynne and her people left behind blazed like a beacon that I was able to follow with no difficulty.

The reason the trail had eluded me at first became obvious. I finally realized what the trail was not fully of this world, it folded upon itself creating a noticeable disruption in the displacement of time and place. A crack between the world with the aid of magic that was problematic.

The Sidhe had a unique inheritance they could call upon. As part of the ability to claim Lands, those highly enough Ranked could open pa.s.sage to Underhill. A dimension that was just slightly skewed of reality. Not the Summerlands, this area could be accessed by those who knew how and where to cross over.

d.u.c.h.ess Wynne and her people had made use of that racial trait and opened a Sithern under CERN. Another world Underhill and had retreated to the safety of that construct, establishing a base of operation.

Sitherns were once thought to be part of the Summerlands. Areas of lands and territories that could differ in size and environment. A further study had determined that these lands were instead cracks between worlds and realities.

Tied to the location they were created; people could only enter and exit in that one spot of creation. They were an offshoot of Wild Magic, and because they were related so closely to the child-like innocence of those magics, they were able to retain some of that magic and innocence. More importantly, fully formed and grown, they possessed an intellect and devotion to those that sheltered within.

The buildings, lands, and walls were able to shift and evolve as the Sithern developed a symbiotic relationship with those that created and inhabited them. Often conforming and shaping to meet exigent requirements. Providing what the Sithern deemed appropriate, not always in line with the host or ruling Ranked thought necessary.

The secret to entering a Sithern was one of perception and confluence. Each entrance was created using a unique signatory vibration. A phase shift, that could be emulated by those that would enter. For those unable to manipulate their magical signature to coincide with the entrance, the pa.s.sage was only possible if their aura was enveloped by a personage who could synchronize and traverse the opening.

Before 'opening' the pa.s.sage to Underhill, I embraced the elements that were reclaiming the faerie rings. Enhancing the power of winter, I funneled winds and snow to scour the grounds of the last vestiges of enchantments and magic, before finally directing the snow to gather and acc.u.mulate.

A localized blizzard, winds fierce and angry, fighting the leash that I would command as I directed those powers under my control. Winter was mine. And no matter how those elements fought, they were unable to ignore the constraints and will that I could marshal.

Slowly, the snow gathered, returning the lands to sleep. To conform to what is and what was meant to be, awaiting the heat the melting Sun distributed as winter gave way to spring.
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