Kael had never been one for heights, but standing on the cliff's edge overlooking the battlefield below, he felt a strange mix of dread and exhilaration. The valley stretched out like a painting gone wrong—hundreds of warriors in bronze armor clashed with grotesque Fomorians, their single glowing eyes cutting through the twilight. Swords sparked against clubs, and the air thrummed with war cries and the stench of blood.
"Welcome to Ériu," Morrígan said, her voice dripping with dark amusement. She stood beside him, her cloak billowing in the wind, the faint outline of crows woven into the fabric seeming to shift and caw. "Your first test, spear-bearer."
Kael gripped the Gáe Bolg tighter, its runes pulsing with a faint blue glow. "Test? Looks more like a massacre. Those guys down there are getting slaughtered."
The Tuatha Dé Danann warriors were holding their own, but barely. The Fomorians were relentless—towering brutes with barnacle-crusted skin, some wielding crude weapons, others using their sheer size to crush their foes. Kael's modern brain screamed run, but something deeper, something tied to the spear, urged him forward.
Morrígan's crimson eyes glinted. "The Tuatha are my kin, but they're not your concern yet. Prove you can survive this chaos, and I'll take you to Scáthach. Fail, and I'll leave your corpse for the crows."
"Wow, motivational speaker of the year," Kael muttered, adjusting his stance. His gym clothes felt absurdly out of place—sneakers, a hoodie, and track pants amidst a Bronze Age warzone. But the spear in his hands felt right, like an extension of himself. "Alright, let's do this."
He charged down the hillside, Morrígan trailing behind at a leisurely pace. The first Fomorian to notice him—a hulking beast with a jagged axe—roared and swung. Kael's instincts kicked in, his body moving faster than he thought possible. He sidestepped, the axe missing by inches, and thrust the Gáe Bolg into the creature's side. The spear's curse activated instantly, thorny energy erupting inside the Fomorian, tearing it apart from within. It collapsed with a gurgling scream.
"Holy—okay, that's still broken," Kael said, yanking the spear free. He glanced back at Morrígan, who raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "What? That was awesome!"
"Child's play," she called, her voice carrying over the din. "Try a dozen."
As if on cue, a group of Fomorians broke away from the main battle, their glowing eyes locking onto Kael. Twelve of them, each uglier than the last, charged with a mix of clubs, spears, and fists. Kael's heart raced, but a grin spread across his face. He'd always loved a challenge.
The first two came at him together. Kael spun the Gáe Bolg, its blade slicing through the air with a hum. He parried a club strike, then thrust the spear into the first Fomorian's chest, downing it instantly. The second lunged, but Kael vaulted over it, using the spear as a pole, and landed behind the creature. A quick stab ended it.
The remaining ten surrounded him, growling. Kael's mind raced, his martial arts training blending with the spear's instincts. He moved like a whirlwind, dodging and striking with precision. Each thrust of the Gáe Bolg dropped a Fomorian, its cursed power making every hit lethal. Within minutes, all twelve lay dead at his feet, their bodies shredded by the spear's magic.
Kael stood panting, adrenaline pumping. "That… was insane," he said, wiping blood from his cheek. He turned to Morrígan, expecting at least a nod of approval.
She clapped slowly, her smirk infuriatingly smug. "Adequate. You didn't die. But your form is sloppy, and you wasted energy showing off."
"Showing off?" Kael gestured at the pile of Fomorian corpses. "I just took out a dozen monsters! What's it gonna take to impress you?"
"More than killing foot soldiers," Morrígan said, stepping closer. She reached out, her fingers brushing a cut on his arm—nothing serious, but her touch sent a shiver through him. "You're strong, I'll give you that. But strength without control is a liability. Scáthach will fix that."
Kael pulled away, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks. "Yeah, about that. Who's this Scáthach, and why do I need her?"
Morrígan's gaze softened, just for a moment. "Scáthach is the greatest warrior of the Tuatha Dé Danann, a queen who trains heroes. She taught Cú Chulainn, the last bearer of the Gáe Bolg. Your power is raw—too raw. Without her guidance, you'll lose yourself to the spear's curse. Or to the Ríastrad."
"The what-now?" Kael asked, but a distant roar interrupted them. A massive Fomorian, twice the size of the others, emerged from the battlefield's edge. Its single eye glowed like a furnace, and it carried a jagged boulder as a weapon. The Tuatha warriors scattered, their lines breaking.
"That," Morrígan said, pointing, "is a warlord. Balor's lieutenant. Deal with it, and we'll talk."
Kael groaned. "You're the worst tour guide ever."
The Fomorian warlord charged, its footsteps shaking the ground. Kael braced himself, the Gáe Bolg humming in his hands. He dodged the first boulder swing, the impact cratering the earth where he'd stood. The warlord roared, swinging again, but Kael was faster. He leaped onto the boulder mid-swing, using it as a springboard to launch himself at the creature's face.
"Eat this!" Kael shouted, driving the Gáe Bolg into the Fomorian's glowing eye. The spear's curse erupted, thorny energy spiraling through the warlord's skull. It screamed, clawing at its face, before collapsing with a thunderous crash.
Kael landed in a crouch, the spear dripping with black blood. The Tuatha warriors stared in awe, some whispering "Lugh" under their breath. Kael stood, trying to look heroic despite his ragged hoodie.
Morrígan appeared beside him, her expression unreadable. "Better. You might survive Scáthach's training after all."
"Gee, thanks," Kael said, catching his breath. "So, where's this warrior-queen at?"
"Her fortress lies in the Shadowlands, a realm beyond the mists," Morrígan said. She raised a hand, and the air shimmered, a portal of swirling mist forming. "Step through, spear-bearer. Your journey has only begun."
Kael hesitated, glancing at the battlefield. The Tuatha were regrouping, their morale bolstered by his victory. He felt a pang of responsibility—something he wasn't used to. Back home, he'd been a lone wolf, focused on his own goals. But here, people were counting on him.
"Will they be okay?" he asked, nodding at the warriors.
Morrígan's eyes softened again, a rare crack in her icy demeanor. "For now. You've given them hope. That's more than they've had in years."
Kael nodded, then turned to the portal. "Alright, let's meet this Scáthach. But if she's as charming as you, I might be in trouble."
Morrígan laughed, a sound that sent a flock of crows scattering into the sky. "Oh, spear-bearer, you have no idea."
Together, they stepped through the portal, the mist swallowing them whole. On the other side, a new realm awaited—a land of jagged cliffs and endless shadows, where a fortress loomed like a crown of stone. And somewhere within, Scáthach watched, her blade ready to test the new hero of Ériu.