The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 2

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Still a long introduction wit no action, but a picture of a hot man at the end. And I added Niall's portrait at the end of the previous chapter, those who didn't see it, come and look!

UPD: I still want at least 10 votes on this chapter before I post the next one!

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Niall Mac Nechtan, Lord of Lightning, Steward of the North of the blessed realm of Mag Tuired, and lord of Sliabh Mis Castle, never liked stating his full title. But in order to transmit a message through the dolmens, this was necessary.

It wasn't even that the title was excessively long and pompous, it was that it consisted of rather empty words without much meaning.

Take, for example, the 'Lord of Lightning'. All the Elemental Lords had their magical gift from birth. However, in order to fully master it, one had to spend not mere years — tens of years, hundreds sometimes. At one hundred and twenty-two, Niall was as far from controlling real lightning as the blessed kingdom of Mag Tuired was from Erin, home of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Even his father, Nechtan Mac Ethliu, could summon a lightning bolt from the sky only in a state of battle rage and with the sacred Sword of Lightning in hand.

Nechtan's sword Caladbolg was lost in the Battle of Ath Luain. But even with his father's magical sword in hand, Niall doubted he could throw a lightning bolt beyond the distance of five paces, call more than two or three lighting balls at a time, or maintain shock-armor for an hour.

After all, his braid had only reached his waist. The Elemental Lords achieved the peak of their magical powers when their braids reached their heels. It was said that Nechtan Mac Ethliu's braid, braided in three strands, was thirty paces long. Therefore, Aife, Niall's mother, blessed be the agile skill of her fingers, braided his braid in thirty strands, and then it was only knee-length.

Whenever Niall compared himself with Nechtan Mac Ethliu, it had never been a favorable comparison. Only Cumal, perhaps, was in worse situation, because his father was Ruadh Rofessa, a beautiful and formidable king, a powerful Lord of Fire, a warrior with a magical spear Gae Assal, who sacrificed himself to close the wormhole to Anghaine. Niall's father, Keeper of the North and lord of At Luain Castle, had only fought by his side and died a hero's death. If not for him, Niall would have never been born. He was then in his mother's womb, and only that kept the noble Aife from taking up arms and fighting next to her husband.

The elements predicted a glorious future for Niall. On the night of his birth, Emain Macha was shaken by a thunderstorm the likes of which had not happened in five hundred years. He was born with snow-white hair, the color of a blinding thunderbolt in the night, just like Nechtan Mac Ethliu's. However, neither before adulthood, nor after Niall showed any miraculous talents or great aspirations. Otherwise, he would have long ago received his father's castle, and would not have been a Seneschal, but at least a Steward.

'Steward' was also a ridiculous title, devoid of meaning. In ancient times, a steward helped a master of the keep to prepare for war, equip the army, and arrange defenses. He distributed supplies, collected tribute, laid roads, built defensive walls. But for a hundred and twenty-two years the blessed kingdom of Mag Tuired had known no war. Morrigan's Shield protected the Tuatha Dé Danann from the Fir Bolg, the demons of Anghaine, and even from the cold breath of the mountain glaciers. In the kingdom of Mag Tuired, eternal summer reigned, and everything here was in abundance. Cows carried calves in their wombs for only two months. Peasants collected a sack of grain from each furrow. The rivers abounded with salmon, and there were simply not enough dishes in the house to collect the milk that a cow gave in a day.