undoing. We have managed to keep them busy, and all the while, my plan has been forming.”
Mulling over the words, Lugus pondered them. When he spoke, doubt laced his words. “We’ve been in this realm a long time. Our world has been all but destroyed by your epic battles with the war goddess and her followers. Our people have sought refuge in other realms. The warriors may be embattled, but they will not rest until they’ve fulfilled their oath and restore the balance.”
Mikel began to walk, Lugus fell in step. “All that is true, and though I would have enjoyed remaining in our realm as ruler, the vast pool of energy that earth has to offer was hard to ignore. These foolish mortals have no idea. They muddle with things such as Ouija boards, and séances. They throw themselves into ancient rituals like the Shamhian, and the solstices, with carless abandon. Gods are still worshiped, offerings are given. Some mortals are even bestowed great gifts by these same Gods. And they live out their pitiful lives without even knowing. Museums house great relics of power that have been shrouded in layers of folklore; a folly that I myself had fallen victim to before uncovering the truth.” Coming to a stop, Mikel gazed out over the bustling sidewalks.
Lugus came to stand beside him, not seeing what his lord saw. He knew of what he spoke of though. The vessel of the ancients had been their people’s greatest myths. Stories of its creation, and the magick forged within it, had had many searching for it—never knowing that the ancients had devised legends in order to safeguard it. Yet, Lugus couldn’t help but wonder why they were here, in this particular city. “But why choose to come back here—to this city?” Lugus made sure to keep his tone and the question light lest he incur Mikel’s wrath.
The query amused Mikel. “Throughout earth’s history, this metropolis has beckoned to the desperate, the dreamers, the drifters and the opportunists. It has a way of weeding out the weak.” He once again began walking. “The mortals have a saying: if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere. Those who survive it, are the strong, the determined; and they step on those too scared to take what they want. It’s a well oiled system. Somewhere, in-between the two classes are those who believe in the unbelievable. They hide amongst the shadows this city casts; their oddity is their camouflage. They have secret clubs and meet under the cover of night. New York, at its very core, is tolerant.” Pausing, Mikel took a moment to scan the streets of the city; he took in the sounds, the vibe. “This city conceals more than these mortals can fathom. A Fragment is here, Lugus, and thanks to my little insurance policy, it is waking up.”
Lugus watched the mortals with distain. With daylight fading, they resembled insects scurrying to find places to hide. He hated being here amongst these filthy beings. It did not matter that they were under protection of various gods and goddesses, Agrona herself being one of them. They were fodder, nothing more. There had been a time he didn’t always feel this way. He once held the same beliefs; that mortals needed protection. However, tragedy changed even the most faithful of beings, shaking the foundation of the very thing that was your centre. The Light that you defended so fiercely, dimmed, and you began to question why you believed it in at all. “How do we find them?”
“Agrona has managed to weave an intricate spell, but it is waning.” Waving a hand, Mikel faded all but the female mortals from sight. “She chose to hide the Fragments within women. In our world, the fairer sex is regarded as our equal, in some cases, our superior. Yet here on earth, they are seen as weak. However, they cannot be treated as such. Agrona was counting on this. As her former teacher, I must give a nod to her—imagination. Severing the Star and having the fragments reincarnated as mortals took