For the Sidhe, there were two ways to create children. The usual way of insemination, pregnancy and live birth, and the magical way from combining a person’s essence and [Fairy] to almost ‘wish’ a child into existence.

This second method was how the Demi-fey were able to propagate in such great numbers and breed with the larger species of Sidhe. The resulting offspring would have been much too large for any of the smaller people to bring a child to term, but by magical intervention, anything was possible.

The Azi-fey that now populated Breith Sithern was a byproduct of this method. The magic of creation that was released as the Sithern was born was powerful enough that [Fairy] combined Huig’s essence and Balfour’s to form a new species. The result was a Goblin/Azi/Fey hybrid that inherited the racial memories of each species.

The Azi-fey were born knowing who they were, their status, and their rank in comparison to each other of this newly created race. They were born with memories of what it meant to be Azi, Goblin, and Fey. They didn’t have memories from growing up to guide them. Instead, they were given the memories and experiences of Balfour and Huig.

The memories they received were complete enough to understand the world they were born into. The implications of the war the Sidhe were fighting and how their unique abilities would give them an advantage when spying and sabotaging.

My powers of foresight were negligible in comparison to someone like the [Oracle]. I rarely had strong enough flashes of prescience to change course consciously as I did with the placement of Breith Sithern. Most of my moments of insight allowed me to act instinctively, decisions made subconsciously, which often resulted in actions that may not be the smartest but were pivotal in hindsight.

It had taken me a while to understand that. For years, I thought some of my decisions were a result of System prodding or quests. It was only when I had time to reflect that I realized that there were moments of action that had nothing to do with my connection to the System. There were subtle cues I was processing that triggered foresight, a skill that any [Ranked: Duke] would receive because of their prodigious [Mental] and [Soul] attributes.

The very moment I had arrived in Talahm, for example, was the very first time this flash of insight must have guided my actions. I had made an enemy of the Lord and his son by killing his son’s friends and humiliating the son. My efforts were ill-conceived and placed me on a course of hostility where there could be no other outcome than to kill or be killed by Lord Kel and Thom.

At the time, I’d thought I’d acted as I did in outrage at their murder of Caraid and how he had been treated his entire life. But I’d known him for all of a minute, that minute only possible because of System intervention. The way I reacted was out of proportion for our brief acquaintance, and it was only with hindsight that I realized that there was prophecy involved. A flash of insight, a look into the future that I hadn’t consciously processed that guided my actions.

That power of foresight, no matter how weak it was, was the only way to explain the birth of Caraid’s son. I had included him in this [Ritual] when I had excluded him every other time. I had included him this time because of a brief flitter of thought. An idea that it would be nice if he had a child to pass on his legacy.

When Breith was given life, Caraid’s essence was accepted by [Fairy] and merged with another Sidhe. A merger that resulted in a son. The Tuatha de Danann had blessed the [Revel], there would be a substantial influx of children in a few months, and the explosion of joy that those Sidhe gifted with children released was a foreshadow of what was to come.

That joy resonated and grew amongst the Sidhe as they recognized that more children would be born. More life in addition to the creche full of children that had been given life immediately. A blessing of new life that was rare for Sidhe made even more poignant because of the many lives of Sidhe sacrificed by the armies of Man.

Children were precious to the Sidhe.

We were slow to reproduce, a race of Immortals having no fundamental imperative or drive to perpetuate the species. Why rush when you have all of eternity? But the war with Man had decimated our ranks, and that longing for renewal and birth had been felt across the width and breadth of Sidhe culture.

Perhaps it was that longing that explained the number of children that had been born that night. The creche filled with dozens of new lives, each child genetically linked to one of the participants of that night of frenzied orgy, a single person who [Fairy] recognized as the sole parent.

Caraid would never know whose essence was added with his to give life to his son. It didn’t matter. He would stand as father and mother. He would teach and guide this gift that only his temporary body afforded. And when we returned to Talahm, his son would come with us. When we returned, I would stand as Ghoistidh, Godfather for his son, allowing Caraid to interact with the child. To see him and speak with him using my body.

It was the least I could do for a man that had sacrificed his own existence to become a rider of the Hunt. A vessel and instrument of Gwyn ap Nudd’s will, subsuming his own identity as a Huntsman.

I left Caraid to get acquainted with his son. They needed this bonding time even more than a child born normally. Sidhe women had time to form a relationship with the unborn fetus, to sing to it, to talk to it, to create that emotional bond the child needed to thrive. For children conceived and born of magic, those moments that would form an emotional connection happened in the first few weeks after birth.

It was vital for their health and stability that they be given that time to bond. Even the most monstrous of us understood that imperative.

I stepped outside the Sithern once I was satisfied Huig and the Sithern were meshing well, the same as I had at Cuimhneachan to get a lay of the land and a perspective of the surrounding territory. The Sithern was hidden, for the most part, only a small aperture allowing egress for those that knew how to see. But it often could and did make changes to the surrounding landscape, making it even harder to find if nothing else.

I had had a brief glimpse of the area when we’d exited the [Portal] but had been too intent on the [Ritual] to pay any real attention. The land had been blanketed in snow; a storm was underway when we arrived, making it even harder to access the surrounding area.

The [Revel] had lasted an entire day, and today the weather had cleared. The sun was reflecting off the snow, blinding in its intensity. But a quick flex of magic, a tiny creation of glamour to shield my eyes from the glare, solved that issue and gave me the first look at a world blanketed in winter.

A world of wonder and magic.

A world that was not as devoid of life as it should have been.

On Earth, the North Pole was a barren place. A place that couldn’t support life. That wasn’t the case here. At first, they were hard to detect, but Yeti and snow leopards abounded, and they had noticed me.

Noticed and acted—the Yeti intent on attacking, the leopards on hiding.

They should not have survived in this place. Even the Yeti, creatures of legend, needed food to survive. They were not an illusion, either an evolutionary adaption of this planet or a gift of life from Mother Nature. They should have found it impossible to survive in such a desolate environment, but the impossible was made possible in a world ruled by magic.

And the fields of snow that should have covered a barren landscape were instead sprinkled with plants. Snow-blossoms were vying with the crystalline perfection of snowflakes to draw the attention of any who noticed them.

A plant that thrived within this harsh environment. A plant that was brimming with a type of bean/fruit hybrid that could serve as a food source for the Yeti and snow hares. The bunnies were abundant enough to provide a food source for the snow leopards.

I did not want to kill the Yeti; there was no need. They were creatures of magic, but magic made physical. I controlled magic and illusion, and it was only a matter of seconds before I created a glamour giving rise and life to a construct that would cowl them.

A giant snowman.

My creature roared at the approaching Yeti, causing them to pause, reconsider their actions, and take a step back.

I enhanced the illusion I’d created by forming a whirling vortex of snow and ice, a halo of winter that radiated out from the snowman and moved in concert with the snowman’s movements.

The Yeti’s reaction was interesting. Instead of running as I’d expected, they began prostrating themselves, lying flat across the tundra. Their bow was one of respect, not of fear. I was a child of the God of Winter, and I think I had just created a God of Snow and Ice for the Yeti to worship