CHAPTER 100: SIBLING TROUBLES

"Easy, Heimon." Somner’s voice said. His hand pressed gently against Hermes’ shoulder. "You gave us all a scare."

Hermes licked his lips, throat dry. "What... happened?"

Somner shifted uneasily, glancing at the others before answering. "The Norse tried to cut Glasán down, and you stepped forward to shield him. You took the blade instead."

His voice wavered, but steadied again. "Glasán did the rest. He turned the hall into a grave for every last raider."

Aphrodite, seated nearby with a book clutched tight against his chest, leaned forward.

His voice was quiet, hesitant. "We arrived just in time, Heimon. Ailbe and I. We saw it all. Glasán’s voice carried through the hall... and none of the Northmen left it alive."

Hermes turned his head slowly toward Glasán, who stood a little apart, shoulders bowed as if he were ashamed of his own strength.

"I lost myself," Glasán admitted, eyes fixed on the floorboards. "When I thought you would leave me forever, rage took me whole. I gave no quarter, no mercy. I sang their deaths and watched them fall."

He lifted his gaze, sea-green eyes trembling. "But I could not do otherwise, not when your life was slipping from me."

Hermes’ heart tightened at that. He sat up with effort, hand brushing over his unbroken skin, and spoke softly.

"You did what you thought was right. But listen to me, Glasán. You must never let anger carry you past reason. If you kill, do it swift. Do it clean. A death given in fury is cruelty. A death given with purpose... that is justice."

Silence followed, until Apple’s monotone broke it like cold steel against stone.

"It is cruel."

Hermes turned to him. "What?"

Apple stood in shadow with his arms crossed. "Cruel for you to expect him not to want vengeance. These men came with knives for his back. They came to strike without honour. Why should he not make them suffer? To hold back is not kindness. It is weakness."

Hermes’ blood ran hot at the words.

He shot upright, his face flushing red. "You are heartless, Apple. Do you hear yourself? Speaking of weakness when men’s lives are nothing to you?"

Apple’s expression did not change. He simply stared back with that same blank calm.

Before Hermes could lash further, Glasán stepped between them, his hand raised. "Heimon. Do not be angry with your twin. You are alive now because of him. It was Ailbe who closed the wound. His power spared you."

Hermes froze. His fingers pressed against his stomach, and he realized there was no blood, no tear in the flesh.

His garments were clean, as if nothing had ever pierced him. Yet he remembered, if faintly, the strange ticking sound and the blur of gold behind Apple’s face. A beast he knew from another time.

His anger broke into shame. "You are right. Forgive me."

He looked to Apple, voice quieter. "Forgive me, brother. I should thank you."

Apple gave no answer, only lowered his eyes.

Somner stepped forward, offering Hermes a hand up. "Come, Heimon. Best you stand and breathe fresh air again. The hall has turned foul with blood. We should call back the folk, settle them, let them know it is finished."

But as they moved toward the doorway, an advisor of the High King intercepted them, bowing.

His tone was respectful, yet fearful still. "Is the Ridire na Mara finished with the punishment of the Northmen?"

Hermes spoke firmly. "Yes. It is over."

The man turned, lifted his voice, and called to the people. "It is done! The Ridire has cast the Northmen to the ground!"

A wave of clapping, cheering, and stomping filled the ruined hall. The same folk who moments ago cowered in horror now raised their drinking horns again, praising Glasán’s name as if he were a god among them. Their eyes were bright with admiration, not dread.

The High King himself strode forward, seizing Glasán’s wrist and holding it aloft.

"With the Ridire na Mara at my side, no foe shall ever claim this land! He is more son to me than my own. Were it within my power, I would name him my heir this very night!"

The hall roared its approval.

Hermes tugged at Somner’s sleeve. "We must go, before any notice that I am no longer bleeding."

So the four of them slipped quietly from the hall.

Behind them the feast resumed, as if death had been no more than spilled ale. Folk spat on Norse corpses, some trampling their limbs, others tearing brooches and arm-rings as trophies.

But outside, the night air was sharp with salt and silence.

Waiting for them, hands set on her hips, was a girl of flame-red hair and proud bearing. Muirenn. Her eyes flashed with the fire of curiosity.

"So it’s true." She said, not bothering with courtesy. "This man is one of the Aos Sí. And my brother... I saw it with my own eyes. Power flows in him. The power of my merrow mother."

Hermes, Somner and Aphrodite looked at each other, not knowing what to do. They don’t know if this was meant to happen or if they had caused a shift in destiny by having Muirenn witness all this.

But they do know one thing.

Hermes spoke in hushed tones. "Lass, do not speak of this with any soul or we would all be in peril—"

Muirenn continued to be ecstatic, jumping up and down. "I shall be a hero! The Second Ridire Na Mara! I must find the cave and receive our mother’s gift at once!"

Suddenly....

Glasán’s voice cut like frost. "Muirenn, hush. Speak not of such things in the open. Do you know what danger you court, saying such words aloud? You cannot guess what it is to live with a secret as heavy as ours."

She scoffed, tossing her hair. "You just want the glory for yourself. But I will find the cave, brother. With or without you."

Glasán’s jaw tightened. "I will tell you its place when your mind is grown, when I see you ready. Not before."

"It is unfair!" Muirenn cried, stamping her foot. "Unfair that only you may meet our mother, only you may bear her gift! You would keep her from me."

With that she spun and ran into the shadows, her voice echoing back, bitter with tears.

Glasán closed his eyes, his shoulders heavy.

Somner laid a hand upon his arm. "Speak with her, cousin. I too had a sister, and she thought it unjust that I was given what she was not. If you do not ease her heart, it will grow hard against you."

Glasán nodded slowly. "You are right. I must not let her stray too far."

Hermes, watching, felt the weight of kinship between Glasán and Somner. He could see plainly how the winter months had woven a bond, and how Somner now carried true pride in his ancestor.

Somner then excused himself to try and talk sense to Muirenn. "Perhaps she would listen to me better. I am quite persuasive."

Glasán nodded. "Thank you, Somhairle."

Meanwhile, Apple stood apart, silent as stone.

But Aphrodite’s eyes lingered on him, wide with sudden understanding. The scholar’s face paled, as if...

He had read his usually incomprehensible mind using Mindbloom.

A/N My 100th Chapter! I have never released this much Chapters in sucha short amount of time before. Thank you for all the support. And if you can, please leave golden tickets, gifts, reviews, comments and powerstones!

And as a fun way to mark this milestone, create a power user character of your own! What rank are they? What is their ability? What is their appearance? Are they a hero or a villain? Comment down below, I’d love to know all your ideas. I might even include them as a cameo in future Chapters ;)