"𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬 r𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚" -- White Winter Hymnal, Fleet Foxes
Cael
I watched my hot breath twirl in the snowy air as I breathed, like a dragon's fiery breath. Only six more trunks to go, I think, starring at the currently chopped wood for the fireplace. How else will Father make his famous beef and vegetable soup? I heaved up the ax in my right hand and mercilessly brought it down on the wood, severing it in half. I've been doing this for easily half of my young life, so it's almost like clockwork. I start on the next. Chop, slide. Next. Chop, slide. I repeat this a few more times before I shoot out of my skin and almost chop off my hand.
"Cael, sweetheart." A small, comforting and familiar hand placed itself on my bare bicep. "Its time for the solstice. I brought you your cloak." My Father was already cloaked, with his tunic and tights hidden beneath with a pair of comfortable boots. His forest green eyes that mirrored my own shone with pride, his brown hair messy and hidden by the cloak's hood. "Thank you." I murmured, dropping the ax onto the chopping table, a larger tree trunk. I stuck my arms through the wool-lined sleeves as I pulled on the cloak, letting the hood crush down my snow-covered fiery red hair that I got from my other, unknown father. I know nothing of the mysterious man, other than his own fiery hair and cruel blue eyes that I saw on the small photo my father keeps in his locket.
"Airell, Cael, I hope you're all ready!" My uncle, Aiden smiled cheekily from the doorway, in a deep purple tunic and black tights that led into matching black boots. "My favorite time of the year," he mused, leading us to the secret path to the enchanted part of the local forest, where we hold our solstice party every year. "I do hope we get presents! I know I brought our own offerings."
Our solstice parties were a tad...unusual. Aiden, a practicing witch, would take us deep into the forest where we would pay tributes to our Irish patron Gods, Cernunnus, the God of fertility, wealth, and wild animals, Arawan, God of death and magic, and my father's creator.
The youngest of all gods, and possibly the most terrifying.
The earth became scorched as he arrived. Clad in black, as always, with his daunting and downright evil lavender eyes that could kill you in a single glance, his snow-white hair tied up in a small ponytail.
"Lucifer," Aiden whispered, running into Lucifer's arms for an embrace. They held each other for a long minute, before releasing, kissing each other's cheeks. "Aiden, my favorite spellcaster." His deep and threatening voice matched his wicked smirk. He turned to my father. "Now, Airell, don't be shy." My father also embraced the intimidating man and held a hushed conversation that led to my father's quiet tears.
My eyes flickered to Lucifer's ever quiet and scary bodyguard, Belial, the demon of wrath and the very snake that led to the sinning of Adam and Eve and the slaughter of Abel by his own brother. "Cael." I jumped once more as Lucifer approached me. "You don't need to be fearful of me, child." he chastised, pulling me into his arms. "You are of my own blood and powers. These very horns you have prove it." He mumbled, tracing a long fingernail in the same spiral pattern as my horns, causing an uncomfortable shiver from me.
"Lucifer, Belial, will you be staying in our home for your stay? I know you don't fare well in cold temperatures." My father squeaked out. Damn his hospitality. Lucifer looked back at the shivering Belial. "What do you say, Belial? Would you like to take up on Airell's hospitality?" Belial's eerie red eyes flickered up from the snowy ground. "Yesssss, pleasse, Sssire. It iss awfully cold out here."
I cursed in my head as the men followed us back into our heated home. Father served everyone a piping hot bowl of soup and an equally hot cup of tea. We all sat on various pieces of furniture, where father and Aiden were at Lucifer's mercy, doing whatever he dare utter. I, however, chose to relax with Zain, Aiden's familiar. A grouchy man with a silver tongue who was at the wrong place at the wrong time when Aiden decided he would make for a great familiar. He twirled his spoon around in his soup boringly, head resting against his fist. "Its really sad, what they do to you, keeping you thousands of years in the past just because they don't enjoy the marvels of the modern world. You probably don't even know what Google is, do you?"
I paused, setting my spoon down. "Google? Is that a new god?"
He rolled his eyes. "I want to show you something, but you must swear on your very heart you will never tell those two, alright?" I looked back at my father and Aiden, who were too busy attending to our guests' every whim to even acknowledge Zain and me. I looked into his stormy gray eyes.
"Swear on my heart and hope to die a thousand deaths." He grinned devilishly. "Follow me."
YOU ARE READING
Prince of the Celts
RandomCael is different. Standing six foot two with a hundred and ninety pounds of pure muscle, he is as shy and submissive as they come. Raised deep in the heart of Ireland, he lives with his other father, Airell, an incubus, his 'uncle', Aiden the witch...
