Once she had verified that her powers were restored, that the magic she had controlled so long ago was as potent as ever, she turned her attention towards me. I was the unknown in this equation. My presence. How my actions had anything to do with the changes.

She knew who I was. Sergeant Rhea had already reported my intervention concerning the Fomorian attack. She knew of me. But she didn't know me. She hadn't been present when I had restored [Fairy] and re-established access to the Summerlands.

I watched as the prodigious intellect that any Queen of Sidhe had to possess began making connections, weaving together the scattered clues and circumstantial evidence about my actions and the changes that had happened since my arrival. That spark of awareness that coalesced into an epiphany blazed forth, her eyes drilling into my own as she made the mental connection that answered a few of her questions. I watched as she realized that I must have affected the changes to magic and that something I had done had changed destiny for her and her people.

"Who are you?" She demanded, the weight of words reverberating with a power that was echoed across the M-AI device. It impressed me that she had enough presence of will that her power was able to travel through the ether and across the ethereal connection of scry and hologram.

Most Sidhe would have been forced to answer as they were lashed by that will. A great number would have been prostrate, forced supine under the weight of her presence. I barely noticed it. I responded by deactivating the M-AI device. I refused to countenance rudeness. I had been King too long for that. Her attempt at intimidation was laughable, considering I had stood before a Senate composed of gods.

It was only seconds before my device informed me that I had an incoming call. The app I had kludged together, and that the AI had tweaked and debugged working to detect the attempt she was making to scry. I left the Queen stewing for a moment before allowing the connection to form.

I knew that my actions were a bit juvenile, but she started it. And Sidhe could be petty, if nothing else. And I was both Seelie and Unseelie. We could take offense at the most rudimentary provocation.

"It has been a while since someone ignored you, hasn't it, Morgan?" Gwydion asked once the connection had resolved, and her image had once more formed.

His words did nothing to cool her temper, but I doubted anything would at this point. The blush of red that painted her cheeks with rage suppressed was impossible to hide. Although she did make the attempt to keep her anger to herself. Her anger enhanced her looks, the emotion a striking image as her pale skin blazed with that blush. It did much to bring life to the almost plastic perfection of beauty that she had been gifted.

Hair deepest black to reflect the darkness she controlled, and eyes smoky gray ringed by charcoal and black sapphire. The rings of her pupils drilling with full fury at Gwydion for his remark. Her eyes were unlike most Sidhe. Each pupil formed an infinity symbol, the double loop noticeably different from the tri-centric pupils, which was more common.

With the striation of gray, charcoal, and black sapphire curving and defining the contours that gave the pupils the infinity shape, it made for an interesting effect. A cascade of movement as the light seemed to flow across the boundaries of each symbol.

I'd never seen anything like it, but it enhanced her beauty, mesmerizing in its intensity. Not that she needed it. But there was something compelling about looking into depths of infinity and seeing an intellect and determination looking back. I wondered if [Time] might share the same silhouette within his eyes. If he didn't, he should.

Her eyes did allow me to understand one more thing about Morgan. She had the gift of foresight. No Sidhe would be blessed with such an obvious link between themselves and infinity without some amount of sagacity. It may have been why she hadn't accepted Lleu Llaw's offer and escaped from Underhill.

She may have had a prophetic vision that included my arrival to Urt, and the return of Sidhe magic to this world. If she did, that wouldn't change her bravery and intransigence in refusing Lleu Llaw. Prophecy was not immutable. And she must have informed him of what she had seen. That he didn't believe her or wouldn't risk the Sidhe on a vision that might be misinterpreted gave even more weight to her decision to remain.

"I was rude," Morgan admitted. "Gwydion, if you would introduce us?"

Her words were as much an apology as she was able to offer. It wasn't that Sidhe didn't or couldn't apologize, we could. But by doing so, we opened ourselves to a kind of moral debt. An apology was an admission that we owed the aggrieved party, and Sidhe were well versed in exacting payment when a debt was owed.

"I would if I could, Morgan, but whoever this is, he hasn't introduced himself," Gwydion replied.

"Then perhaps I can introduce him to you," Morgan said, her anger replace by pleasure. "I believe him to be Teigh, a Sidhe that foiled a Fomorian attack a few days back."

"I am Teigh Mac de Beleros y Cyronax," I admitted, confirming Morgan's guess.

"Beleros and Cyronax?" Morgan wondered. "The mythic Tuatha de Danann mentioned in the Bard's tales?"

"Beleros, God of the Sun and Healing. Cyronax, God of Ice and Void," I replied. "I'm not sure what the Bard's have sung bout the Tuatha de Danann, but they are real, I have spoken with them. Been blessed by them. And gained the favor of the Goddess Danu.

"The return of magic, the rebirth of fey, the promise of Summerlands fulfilled, all made possible through me because of my connection to Them."

"You expect us to believe the Tuatha de Danann Gods are real, and that you are a child of those Gods?" Gwydion demanded.

"Are the Sidhe sunk so low that they can lie so easily?" I asked.

"I have not couched my words using trickery or nuance. I have stated emphatically and without prevarication that the Gods exist, that I have spoken with them. Further, I tell you they have forged me in the crucible of exigency, to be reborn as a direct descendant of those two Gods."

The Sidhe did not lie. At least on Talahm, we didn't. We could talk until the truth was so obfuscated that there was no way to tell truth from lie, but we did not lie. The Sidhe of Talahm had the Wild Hunt to call upon to punish those that would attempt a lie or be so lost to idiocy to be named an oath-breaker. That ability to give challenge and call on Gwyn ap Nudd kept us honest.

In this world. Without access to Gwyn ap Nudd, perhaps the ability to prevaricate had become a weapon the Sidhe used and embraced. If that were the case, they would need to learn quickly that words had meaning now, and that lies could be and would be punished.