The ride to Saor began uneventfully. I did bend and allow Gil to assign a small guard to join the Duchess, Aspen, and Pine. Jennie insisted that she was needed, and I saw no reason to refuse, but I insisted they ride skimmers.

Most of the terrain was prairie, unending vistas of grass and lavender. There were the occasional herd grazing animals, but they ignored us as readily as we did them. The animals were vaguely buffalo shaped. They had four horns instead of two as well as the six legs that seemed to be standard for the planet.

Other than the occasional bird or wisp we encountered no other signs of life. If the surrounding area for Saor was similar to what we encountered as we rode, it would make access to the city one less consideration I would need to worry about. It didn’t make sense to me that an area that was so unspoiled and unexplored seemed so devoid of animal life.

We had settled into a routine, after hours of riding with nothing to see. It was the barking that drew our attention. Three barks. Each the same frequency and length. The sound reverberating and giving nuance to those barks. There was a message contained, something our hindbrain was able to translate, a children’s tale that spoke of danger and warning.

The Cu-sith, Unseelie dogs that legend warned were harbingers of danger and change. To hear their bark was to invite disaster. There was nowhere to escape, no way to mitigate whatever calamity their bark foretold. If you heard a Cu-sith bark, seek safety before the resonance from the last bark faded or prepare to confront that danger.

As we crested a small hill, I saw them. Dark as night, silk coats as polished and shining as the deepest onyx. They moved like shadows, darting in and out, as they defended their young. Their alpha almost impossible to identify as he flickered, teeth and claws worrying and working to find purchase at the beast that had stumbled across the pack and would make a snack out of the pups.

I wouldn’t classify it as a dragon, certainly a lizard, but it didn’t appear to have wings and without the ability to fly it was a salamander at best. It turned out it was a fire salamander as it blazed with heat, scorching the Cu-sith that were attacking.

The Cu-sith were considered Unseelie now, not exactly Sidhe, but companion beasts, and they shared the regenerative abilities that all Sidhe were gifted. The fires that burned, the lost fur, and scorch marks were healed almost as fast as they were made, which only worked to anger the giant lizard further.

Angered beyond reason, it drew in a breath and released a gout of towering fire that burned hotter and faster than the dog caught in the path could heal. It had drawn first blood as well as first kill, and flicked its tongue towards the Cu-sith remains, gulping down the residual meat, crunching bones, ignoring ash and char.

Aspen and Pine reacted before me. Summoning the power of nature and storms they began blasting the salamander with lightning. The stun effect allowing the Cu-sith to attack mercilessly, attacks becoming coordinated as the Alpha released pheromones to direct the pack.

Cu-sith had to evolve a new method of communication between pack members when their bark was System limited. They were bound by rules that allowed them to voice for warning. Our party came within range and triggered the conditions that allowed them to emit those three barks.

Three barks as a warning was all they were ever allowed, System bound them to silence otherwise. They had learned to produce pheromones, layered, and nuanced to communicate. Their sense of smell heightened even more than normal. A special gland embedded in the ruff around the neck was able to manufacture and release pheromones coded to smell and communication.

They could ‘speak’ using pheromones as quickly and effectively as they could when using barks, whines, and whimpers. The Sidhe considered them symbols of good fortune. Even though their bark presaged danger, a warning, the time to marshal forces to confront that danger was often the difference between a win and loss.

The use of shadow as the Cu-sith faded into and out of even the smallest pool of darkness allowed the animals to maintain a constant attack, their style more assassin in type than a warrior, they made use of the ability to fade and strike from concealment frightening.

I was pleased with Aspen and Pine’s decision to aid the Cu-sith. They had no point of reference, no way to know that the Sidhe considered them almost sacred because of their ability to forecast and warn of danger. The Cernunnos could have just as easily decided to defend the salamander. Their interference was timely enough to allow the Cu-sith to prevail.

Coordinated attacks, first hamstringing the lizard, then tearing at throat and belly until it was bleeding and frenzied, the animal attempted to escape. By this point, it was impossible. It could barely walk, escape only made the Cu-sith more frantic to finish the kill.

Once Aspen and Pine had entered the fray the outcome was decided. Once the salamander was dead, the pack ignored the remains, choosing to turn and assess our combat abilities and intentions. Having a Cu-sith focus its attention on you was disquieting. They seemed to be able to measure your soul, certainly your intentions.

A quick lick between the Alpha and another of the pack was the only signal required before they tore into their prize. Feeding on the remains, opening the soft underbelly for the youngest pups to feast. Judging by the age of the pups, it must have been the end of this breeding cycle for the Alpha. They were on that edge between juveniles and adults. Not combat capable, at least not on the same level as their parents, but large enough and old enough to savage the unwary.

The Alpha spent a few seconds tearing at the inside of the salamander before claiming and freeing his prize. Snout dripping with blood, he had the creature’s heart firmly clenched between teeth. Instead of enjoying his meal, he approached the Cernunnos, laying the heart at their feet, a gesture of appreciation and respect.

I had thought they would refuse the gift, but they hadn’t. Dividing the heart into three sections they returned one to the Alpha. Sharing the other two sections, they began eating the still dripping heart muscles, honoring the Alpha’s gesture with consideration and respect.

I hadn’t paid much attention to Aspen and Pine’s diet as we traveled. Meals were pretty much make do, and they had expressed an opinion on what was served, nor had they voiced concerns about dietary requirements. But they were stewards of the forest, children of Danu, so it made sense that heart's blood and meat could be included in their diet.

The three of them entered into a staring contest after the meal was finished. A twitch of the ear, a wag of the tail the only hint that something I was not privy too was going on. It was interesting seeing the same body language from the Cernunnos who had remained in their stag form.

“He is thankful for our help, and wonders if we would accept three members of his pack. Juveniles, but he believes they will soon mature into fierce protectors,” Pine said breaking the silence.

“We have explained to him that you are the pack leader and that you wish to combine all the tribes of Sidhe under one banner. He wonders if you would meet with the Cu-sith. A sharing of smells, a way for them to remember and pass that memory on to others.

“He promises to share the knowledge of the new leader that has claimed the land and would rule in the manner of the pack. Strength and ability over treachery and deceit,” she finished.

The Sidhe Monarchs hadn’t had Cu-sith companions for eons. They had abandoned both Seelie and Unseelie so long ago that most forgot that they were once symbols. A ruler that hadn’t gained the trust of a Cu-sith pack was to be feared and mistrusted. By accepting those companions, the Alpha offered, my entrance at Court would have even deeper repercussions.

I wasn’t sure what instinct the Alpha relied on to place his trust in me. Pine and Aspen, I could understand. They were children of Danu and protectors. But I hadn’t intervened. I could only reason that they were able to judge my character in that earlier appraisal, and they had found something they could trust in.

The process of sharing smells was akin to wrestling. Each of the puppies that spent time rubbing against me, marking their territory. Although only three would be joining me, the dozen or so juveniles still jockeyed for position, snapping and nipping at each other and me to find the best spot to mark.

For my part, there was a lot of petting, their coats as soft and luxurious as the sable or mink. A few of the more adventurous pups used their ability to move in shadow to gain positions and places to mark that the others hadn’t reached. It was these pups that were the most curious, and the ones that I found myself drawn too.

The Den mother watched patiently as her pups frolicked until the decision was made. A release of pheromones that I could neither register nor translate sent most of the pack leaping away. The remains of the salamander all but stripped of meat. One last glance and the Alpha sprung away, leaving behind the three pups that had adopted me.

We resumed our travels, paying more attention to our surroundings, our laxness dispelled by the presence of the salamander. Where there was one, there was sure to be more.

When Uron, Cedric, Lohne, and I had been discussing site selection for a future Capital we had three criteria that we thought vital for selection; water, farmland, and military applications. As our journey ended, having caught and passed the skimmer to lead the way, we crested the top of an embankment that led down into the valley the city would be built and located in.

I was pleased with what I saw.

I had placed the Sithern here pretty much on blind faith. No one had scouted the area to make sure it was suitable, we had only known that the valley abutted an inland sea, was somewhat protected nestled at the base of hills, hills that were sequestered and smoothly transitioned from the prairie. And that there was a convergence of ley-lines.

It wasn’t until you got to the top of one of those hills that you discovered the unspoiled landscape. The Hills, eight in total, formed a half-moon of protection blocking some of the fierce storms that can form over prairies. The viability and variety of Hill placement made a perfect foil for the Sithern. It would be, in truth, located Underhill.

The system had placed the Sithern, but activation and development were waiting for my input, instead, it had given me a template, a design that was yet to be constructed. Until I completed the ritual that had been started on Earth, the Sithern would remain only a possibility.

Oh, it existed. It had form, function, and magic. It took up space and had a doorway between. But it wasn’t awake yet. Still, in that state of hibernation, it had entered when I accepted the seed. And like a seed, the embryo was more potential than actual. It was the sum of those dreams and hopes that the Duchess had cast when first establishing a place to protect and hide her and her people, and the balance of life and death that I had introduced when I introduced Silinium as well as the domains of Summer and Winter.

Because the Sithern structure was still in flux, I had a small amount of leeway as far as where the opening would be placed. The door existed, but it hadn’t been anchored. The system had placed the opening in the dead center of the valley. If this were a normal city, that would make sense. The Monarch’s castle in the center with businesses, properties, homes, and infrastructure radiating out from that point was a common theme for Sidhe architecture.

It would be even advantageous for the construction and placement of a harbor and port authority if I left it where System had placed it. But I was determined to place the Sithern Underhill, if for no other reason than that placement called to something deep inside. Almost a biological imperative that demanded that Underhill be opened and the knowledge that Sithern safety and defenses would increase exponentially by honoring the history, the symbiotic relationship between Sithern and Hill that had existed since the first Sithern was born.

Of the locations I might have selected, I found the expansive hill to the north most suitable. It was the largest of those that ringed the valley and the eastern slope had sheared off leaving a cliff that the sea pounded against relentlessly.

Magic made things like potential flooding and groundwater ignorable. The Sithern would be placed Underhill, but that was simply placement. The Sithern itself would exist between the here and there, the intelligence of the life form capable of creating vast and numerous spaces. Depending on need and magic, an entirely new world may be born.

It was the other reason I’d selected that hill for placement. It had the deepest ley-lines of those converging nearby. It wasn’t the Nexus itself. That confluence of waypoints met where the shore and water met. But the Sithern would be placed on the very edge of the Nexus, so would have access to the converging energies from most of the rivers of magic.

Once I had decided where I wanted to place the rift that would become the doorway between the world of Sithern and Talahm and was about to complete the ritual, Aspen asked me to wait. Confused, I watched as she and Pine were quartering the area. They seemed to be looking for something, their senses fully deployed as they searched.

They were meticulous segmenting one area of the hill after another. They worked in tandem, one would move north to south, the other east to west. It was obvious when they found what they had been searching for, both paused at the same time. Turning to face each other they shifted into their avian form and took wing.

“What do you think they are doing?” I asked Duchess Wynne, she had been patiently observing just as I had been, coming to stand beside me as we watched their antics.

“I’m not sure,” she replied, “but they started as Volar-fey. If they retained any of the abilities of the Demi, then it may have something to do with their sensitivity to magic.”

The Duchess was almost correct. The two were making use of a Volar-fey ability to discern the ebb and flow of magic, but they had been gifted with new abilities, one of which was the ability to order and channel those flows. It was part of the gift of healing the land that Danu had bestowed.

When the Seelie and Unseelie had created dams to harness and diverge the natural flow of magic, they had done more than starve the land of vital energy. Their actions had leeched the land of vitality, slowing poisoning and decimating those areas where the ley-lines were blocked. The small trickle of energy that the land had been forced to subsist on was simply not sustainable.

Aspen and Pine were correcting the dearth of life that had been accumulating. It wouldn’t solve the entire territories issues, the land had been starved too long for that, but this Nexus of lines was fortuitous in my choice. The dams had been destroyed and energies rushed to flood those areas with fresh energies, but it was unstructured, more tsunami than spring rain.

They changed forms, taking flight, seeming to grasp some structure, as they wove and flew with each other. Danu gifted them with the knowledge to restore the poisoned and raped lands of Earth, and those abilities translated well here. Their flight, the wind currents that formed as wings beat, and bodies glided caught at the flotsam of loose energies.

As they accumulated more and more of that unstructured and unclaimed magic, they would swoop towards one of the multiple ley-lines, casting the accumulated magic like a fishing line, the hook set, and allowing the ley-lines to be diverted.

Aingeal Geamhraidh was mine. Rightfully claimed. It was like an itch you couldn’t quite reach, a word that you were trying to think of that was on the tip of your tongue. I was aware of the land; I felt the cry of happiness as they cleansed long-neglected areas, flushing out the pustules of corruption that had formed.

As intricately tied to the Land as I had become, I had had to try over the past few hours to learn to suppress that awareness, to recognize where the land and I differed. But the ability to truly know my territory allowed me to grasp what Aspen and Pine were attempting.

The Celtic people could trace their roots to the Sidhe. And one of the talents that these people had mastered was that of knot-work. Celtic knots were more than intricate designs that were woven into fabric, metal, or ornamentation. The knots had their roots in magic and mysticism. Created to acknowledge the interconnection and balance between life and death, there were levels of complexity that determined the power of a knot.

What Aspen and Pine were creating was master craftsman's work. A Celtic knot that hearkened to the beginning and end of creation. An homage to eternity. A knot that was enduring and would last until the planet was bereft of magic.

Completed the knot pulsed, funneling those ley-lines that had been caught and reeled in, those ley-lines becoming the well-spring that fed the threads that made up the body of the knot. Settling into place, the entire valley became more ordered, the Nexus more powerful. It was as if they had bound a geas into the rivers of magic commanding them to flow in an orderly manner, to restore and nourish starved lands, and to never again be constrained or bound.

And as the knot settled, one spot flared, not on the Hill I had originally planned to open the rift between Talahm and the Sithern but on the opposite side of the valley. A southern facing hill, gently sloping, the change in elevation barely discernible. It was here that the Celtic knot that had been created formed. Branded into the bedrock of this Hill as old as the Planet itself.

It was here that I released the final energies and completed the ritual that opened the Sithern that had been born of Earth but would become more. A Sithern that would become the home for the Tuatha de Danaan faction and the capital of my kingdom.