Children Of Myths, Act One: Scotland

After the storm

Brendan was dragged into the church with his niece where Aidan had moved all the pews to lay down the wounded and, unfortunately, the fallen. The first were laid on sheets, the second, covered with those.
The priest felt the girl's forehead and tried to hear her breathing. He sighed with relief when he heard it, along with her heartbeat.

"She's alright, Brendan."

"Thank the Lord" the man nodded to the crucifix and let himself fall back onto the sheet.

"Rest now. I'll take care of it" Aidan ran to the sacristy pantry where he kept the few herbs he knew could be useful for creating medicines. He made his way through jars of dried leaves and potted plants.

He grabbed a jar full of dried tormentil and began to crush everything in the mortar with water to create enough ointment.

"Whoever can still stand and doesn't have to break ice, give me a hand!"

Every citizen or soldier in good condition worked to apply the mixture on wounds to prevent bleeding and then bandaged them. With the little left, Aidan made a decoction to drink gradually to whoever was conscious first.

"God bless you, Father"

"I do what I must"

He then went to examine the dead, pale, stiff and cold as statues. And not from rigor mortis. Their skin was furrowed by strange black veins.

"Dear God..." he traced the black marks with his fingertips "What is this curse?"

The only creatures capable of creating blizzards were the ancient Beira Cailleach and her court, as demonstrated by Artica, but black ice?
He'd had to work hard in order to study it properly, along with the symbol on the robes of the sorcerers who laid dead in the middle of the streets and square. He went out and tore a piece of cloth from one of these on which the strange symbol was embroidered: a black and white oval divided in half by a line.
He had never seen it before, perhaps he would find an answer in one of his older tomes...

His thoughts were interrupted by the clatter of a horse's hooves. He turned and saw Connor McFadden and Safie Neivers flying out of the saddle and running inside. Fergus had only one arm grazed by an arrow, but he ignored the pain to hug his son and so did Brendan with his daughter.

"Dad! Thank the Lord!" Safie hugged her father through tears and then crawled to look at her unconscious cousin.

"What happened?" Connor pointed outside.

"Your future wife lost her temper." Fergus pulled his ear "Idiot. You were supposed to stay safe"

"Sorry, she ran away and I was afraid she would get hurt"

The innkeeper shook his head, smiling "I'm not angry. I'm glad you're fine, go to her"

Connor walked to Safie, sat down next to her and stroked Artica's hair.

"You're a blockhead. Harder than marble" but he kissed her forehead anyway "Thank you..."

Brendan struggled to sit up and leaned against the wall

"How did she get here? She doesn't know how to ride"

"She flew... If you can call it that" Safie wanted to spare the detail of throwing herself out of a tree, to avoid a worse dressing down. She would give it to her in private.

"Our house?" she asked then.

"Still standing, only the stable is partially collapsed. I wonder where the cattle went..."

"We'll look for them later, now lie down, Dad" Safie covered her father and cousin with a blanket. Then she was distracted by voices outside the church.