"Well, this was surely worth getting out of bed for," Ciaran muttered as he peered out from the tree. Blake grimaced in agreement as he watched the strange iron hearth, shimmering in a green light as the fire flickered.
The glade seemed to be empty, but the air was thick with dark magic. The ground was dark, the grass dead and the trees were only mere bones of what they once were. No spirits resided here anymore, only ghosts of what they once were. Shades twisted from the ground and trees, ready to devour anyone who comes closer.
As they had gathered all the people and split up, Blake went with Ciaran, much to Jaxon's dismay who went with Aeron. They had searched the woods, close to the witches who were too focused on the shifters to notice two hedgewitches walking among them but they saw nothing. Then Blake had gotten an idea. The image had flashed in his mind to the point that he couldn't ignore it and he had suggested Ciaran follow him.
Woe and behold, where the entrance of the dark temple Alex and Hadrien had once visited, stood the Hearth of Ire.
"Any reason why you knew it was here?" Ciaran asked.
Blake shook his head. He seriously had no idea. He just pulled out the phone and sent a text to the rest, telling them where the hearth was but Blake ignored the incoming order to wait for them. The hearth was unguarded. A chance like this might not come again.
He pulled out the box he had hidden in his bag, hearing Ciaran whistle. "Is that wise?"
"I'm not sure wisdom will help us fight an archon," Blake said, pulling out the khadga from the box. He frowned when nothing happened. He felt nothing. Not even a small hint of the dark magic that should fill the steel. Maybe he needed to use it for it to activate? " Can you locate Nemain?"
Ciaran pulled out a small dagger, cutting his finger. He made a fist with the cut hand and whispered something inaudible into it. An array of small fireflies came out from his hand, floating around him for a while before moving into the glade. As they came closer to the hearth though, the fireflies one by one started to flicker before they finally faded into oblivion.
"The good news is that they didn't locate Nemain," Ciaran said.
"And the bad news?"
"The area is filled with amalgamation circles. They drain all magic that enters them."
"I see no circles," Blake said with a frown as he concentrated on the blackened area.
"They are most likely hidden underneath all the dead grass. It is a trap. I also fear that there might be some siphoning spells or shades around the area who will drain the life of anyone who gets close," Ciaran said. "Jaxon won't be able to get close to that, anax or not."
"But I can," Blake mumbled.
"What?"
"I can see the shades and avoid them. They seemed fixed in one area like they cannot move."
"They are summoning circles. Some shades have the ability to drain life, trying to revive themselves. These can be summoned and bound in one area. A good, if not nasty, security system," Ciaran explained. "There are still the amalgamation circles."
"Well, people tell me that I have a lot of magic. Enough that I have never been fatigued by the lack of it. Let's see if it can get me to the hearth," Blake said with a grim expression, he turned toward the hearth but Ciaran pulled him back.
"This is insanity. Let's wait for the others."
"They are here any minute now and Nemain might arrive before them. It will take time walking around the shades and we lack time," Blake reminded him, pulling himself free. He walked slowly towards the hearth. Avoiding every dark hand reaching for him and slowly but surely closing in.
Ciaran had started to make circles on the ground, trying to put up protections though Blake was unsure if they would be effective against an archon, but maybe they could at least slow him down in case he suddenly showed up.
"How is it going?" Ciaran asked, not looking back at him as he continued to put spells on the ground.
"Slowly. The shades are very eager to get their hands on me but I cannot feel anything draining my-" Blake let out a gasp as he sensed it then. His magic was forcingly being pulled out of him like air leaving his lungs. The ground lit up in one giant circle. Ciaran grimaced as he backed away, avoiding touching the symbol.
"Blake?!"
Blake inhaled deeply, it felt nasty to have his magic being drained but he was not fatigued. Actually, he felt very little from the pull except that something was leaving him. He continued, not even noticing when the rest of the group entered the glade.
He could hear Elliott shout at him, but he was too focused on the hearth. Biting his underlip, he reached out for the hearth, feeling his fingers nudge the hearth.
Cold, but strong fingers gripped his wrist.
Blake felt chills run along his skin, giving him goosebumps as he looked up into green eyes, glowing in the same color as the fire of the hearth. The red tunic, looking Celtic in its design, stood out against the green aura coming out of him. The eyes peered at him from long brown hair, wild and flowing, as power seeped from every nerve of this man. There was no smile on the bearded face, no emotions as he pulled Blake away from the hearth.
" I didn't expect you to leave Ahriman's side. I should have been more careful," Nemain said, not even glancing at the people shouting at him as he pulled Blake into an unbending grip. "Only three people in the area could enter the circle I had drawn up, as only three people had unlimited magic. I should have kept an eye on the other two."
Wiggling to get his arm free, Blake lifted his arm to slash at Nemain with the crescent moon-shaped sword. The wind whined as it was cut while two glowing emerald eyes turned to the blade and their expression went from uncaring to fierce in the blink of an eye. Gripping Blake's wrist with tremendous force, Nemain tried to twist the khadga out of his hands but Blake refused to let go.
"Why do you have that thing?" Nemain hissed between his teeth. "Don't you know what will happen if you use it?"
Hesitation hindered Blake's movements for a second before he went for the next best thing he knew he could do. He bit down on Nemain's hand holding his wrist. Nemain didn't even flinch, much to Blake's dismay, but he didn't let go.
"You truly are a child," Nemain muttered, reaching out towards Blake with his other hand. From thousands of little lights, suddenly showing up out of nowhere, Coney jumped up and bit his other hand. Nemain stared at the fluffy little rabbit, now letting out cute but angry noises as he gnawed at his hand.
"Let Blake go, you vile creature," the rabbit shouted between the clenched jaws. Nemain stared at the two, no fear or pain rippled his face, and he just rolled his eyes.
"You two are really-" Nemain's eyes went suddenly wide, and he slammed Blake against his chest, shielding him from an incoming arrow. The arrow was glowing and burning anything in its path and a loud explosion echoed when the arrow reached its target. Blinding light followed in its wake. Blake let go of Nemain to look up, his eyes going wide when he saw that Nemain's arm that had been hit had turned to stone.
Nemain grimaced, green fire coming out of his eyes, and his stone arm started to crack. Pieces of the stone fell off his arm like a second skin to reveal Nemain's arm completely unharmed.
Gasps and shouts came from the audience. Jaxon was ready to throw himself onto the scene but was held back by his brothers, while Cainen was trying to erase the circle on the ground. Nemain barely paid them any attention and was looking up at the hill. Between the trees was a sight that made Blake stare in awe.
An Indian woman in traditional clothes was aiming a giant bow and arrow at them, a third eye on her forehead helped her aim while a terrifying creature stood beside her. A giant body, four arms, red skin, and long black hair adorned the creature's body. All of his three eyes were glowing red while his underjaw was adorned with long fangs almost reaching his eyes.
Both of them looked so out of place that Blake wondered if he was imagining things, but the woman looked familiar. "What-"
Blake didn't get the chance to ask his question before another arrow was sent their way. Nemain let green fire rush along his arms, shaping it into an ancient bronze spear. With one flicker of the spear, a fierce wind destroyed the arrow and sent leaves and twigs twirling in the glade.
"This is not your land, avatar of Shiva," Nemain said, his voice booming in the glade.
"But it is my artifact. Stolen from my country by your British pigs," the woman shouted back aiming the bow at Jaxon and the others instead. They froze in place while Blake slammed his fist into Nemain's chest.
"Let me go!"
Nemain's eyes fell onto Elliott. Blake notices a flicker of emotions entering his eyes and before Blake could react, he was free. Nemain threw himself into battle, aiming his spear at the woman only to be interrupted by the demon-like creature. Clangs echoed as spear met claws, while a golden arrow was sent to the sky, turning trees into stone but Jaxon was alright.
Glancing at the Khadga, wondering what they have let free, Blake threw it away and then rushed toward the hearth. Adamant to destroy it now that Nemain was distracted. He heard shouts behind him but ignored them as he grabbed onto the hearth, gasping as he felt the heat. Gathering whatever power he could muster, he pushed the hearth over. The glade seemingly darkened as the fire went out and a sigh followed the fading hearth.
"Blake, look out!" it was Coney's voice that reached him. Blake looked up, his eyes going wide as a straying arrow flew straight towards him. Letting out a shout, he lifted his arms, trying to shield himself but knew it was already too late.
He reached out, wanting safety. Feeling something reaching out for him, without thinking he opened a portal when piercing pain hit him in the chest. The arrow burrowed itself into his heart and he let out a piercing scream before he was sent through the portal and into oblivion.