Nelag had the same ability to regenerate and heal as any Sidhe. And if I had given him time to use those abilities, he would have lived. But I didn’t. With Lleu Llaw and Diarmuid still out of commission, frozen in ice, I was able to focus my full attention on him instead.

The ice bullets that I cast and released were wrapped around my own version of Greek Fire. Once the bullet impacted Nelag and exploded, the liquid within would splash the opening he had created, allowing it to coat him an ever-widening pool of liquid fire that burned with the same explosive energy as cesium when mixed with water.

The Sidhe had had long understood the nature of cesium. It remained liquid at low temperatures, with a melting point close to room temperature. It was the interaction with water that Wynne had helped me understand and master. The metal reacted violently when introduced to water, and unlike other metals that react by fizzing, the reaction of this metal was much more explosive.

I had replicated that volatility with my version of exploding bullets and pillars of ice. It allowed me to establish a barrier between fire and ice and infuse my fire with the same volatility when it came into contact with the ice. Ig made it possible for the finite amount of fire essence within each bullet to transform into a slurry that contained the destructive power of fire, fueled by the volatility of the reaction to water.

Sidhe anatomy was primarily composed of water. Like the vast majority of life forms, our organs, cells, blood, even bones use water as a substantial part of our body’s system. We had denser bones and muscles as well as a network of channels, meridians, and nodes that served to conduct magic, but those differences meant the amount of water that made up our bodies was smaller than other species.

The bullets that shattered expended enough fire that there was enough for Nelag’s body to burn. Each new splash of fire would adhere to skin and begin to burn its way inward. The resulting conflagration of fire and flesh was horrific to see. Nelag’s screams as he was burned alive reverberated past the battle sphere barrier that protected those from watching the dual. Those watching the duel were forced to listen as his screams reached a crescendo.

Watching as his flesh burned and healed might be considered repugnant, but torture was a mainstay of a Sidhe’s life and death. We knew that most of us would not go gentle into that good night. No matter the reason or intent, this was not the worst thing a Sidhe might experience. A Sidhe being consumed in a blaze of fire was a painful reminder that those with the strength ruled.

Those who faced great pain could do nothing but rail against the light. Our Immortality, at times, was more a curse than a blessing, and Nelag’s body demonstrated that point as it burned. He tried to withstand the onslaught of my magic, but that only prolonged the inevitable.

The screams slowly died, becoming nothing more than whimpers and desperate pleas for forgiveness as Nelag accepted his fate and embraced the inevitable. Once his mind and spirit had been broken, and he had realized there was no escape, the fight seemed to drain out of him, and the prodigious healing abilities of his body simply stopped.

The fires continued to burn, even past the point where his bones had been reduced to ash. The Summerlands should have opened to accept him at this point, but Gwyn ap Nudd had given his word. No one would be allowed to accept the Summerland’s healing embrace until my [Condition] had been redeemed, and truth had been satisfied.

Lleu Llaw and Diarmuid hadn’t been completely contained this entire time. For Diarmuid, that meant little more than futile struggling. Her magic and power were poison and venom-based, nothing that would free her from her coffin of ice. She should have focused more of her attention honing her martial abilities than suborning treason.

She had built her talents around a strategy of assassination, striking from behind and hiding in the shadows. Unlike Morgana, who had true mastery of [Shadow], she was forced to rely on illusion and glamour to fade into the background. That ability would do nothing for her.

She was simply not a factor in this battle, even if her talents made her a formidable woman. She had enhanced her control over poisons by ingesting them at some point. It allowed her body to break down the DNA structure of each and recreate it using magic. She cannibalized the materials needed to reproduce the poisons from the minerals and elements that her body used to function.

With her freedom restricted, she was helpless. But even if she had been free, I doubted her powers over illusion would have been strong enough to work against me not now that I had embraced and incorporated [Illusion] and [Glamour] as integral to my [Domain].

Still, the [King’s Regalia] I used and the [Diadem of Focus] would be of no use while inside the battle sphere. Belisama allowed no artifact of power to be employed. This was a test of our personal skills. There would be no use of items to exploit while fighting within Her [Domain].

And the battle arena was a [Domain]. A construct of the Goddess that forced the participants to conform to a set of Her rules and laws.

The ice that had trapped Diarmuid and Lleu Llaw had continued its assault even as I ignored their presence to deal with Nelag. The slow creep of eternal sleep that those lost to the cold would eventually face had progressed as their struggles to free themselves grew less frantic.

Just as someone caught in a blizzard would eventually succumb to the inevitable, to sleep, to enter the endless dream of death. The ice seeped relentlessly forward, freezing so slowly that their bodies were unaware of the dangers until it was too late.

Lleu Llaw was more effective at withstanding the cold. His command over water allowed him to push the boundary of his ice coffin away. The water reacted, the pressure increasing in response to his will.

It became a test of will at this point. The water’s pressure slowed the creep of the slowly encroaching ice that cocooned him as we fought for control, our fight stymied until we were forced to enter a battle of the psyche.

Each of us casting mental bolts of power. Each of us wrestling for control. If I had only one person to contend with, the fight would have been over in seconds, but this psychic battle of attrition was coinciding with my battle with Nelag.

For those watching from the beginning and a few Sidhe that had stumbled into the area as the battle commenced and continued, the sight of battle must have been strange. The four of us simply stood in one place. If not for the continuing explosion of my ice bullets, it would have seemed like we were nothing more than an elaborate, life-size snow globe.

They only realized the duel was over, and I had won when the battle sphere collapsed, and the remains of those I had challenged were left dead or near dead on the ground.

“Ask your questions,” Gwyn ap Nudd commanded me as he exerted his will and [Domain] to force the spirits that yearned to enter the Summerlands to stay. Their escape into peaceful oblivion halted until [Oath] was satisfied.

“Why?” I asked simply. The question took on a weight and heft much deeper than the one word suggested. It encompassed everything I wanted to know.

Why attack me?

Why was Nelag gifted with the Divine?

Why would they support a Sidhe that had been blessed by and claimed as a son of Zeus?

Why would they conspire against their own people?

And as that question resounded across the field, the forces of [Fairy], the Wild Magic, and Gwyn ap Nudd combined into a tornado of intent. A magical force of nature that could not be ignored or escaped from.

An intent that forced [Truth] for those gathered to hear.