[st.patrik]

Freedom comes hard-fought. Violence can be the shield of peace.

War with those who seek our destruction cannot be avoided.

Yet long we dwelt, in hope that war would not be forced upon us on every side. I know not the inscrutable ways of the silent god. Mayhap he knew better what the turn of years would bring than even we did, who measure our years by many lengths of men’s lives. But of the devastation there is not doubt. Of the loss of our people no one can remain silent. Yet our vengeance is even more certain.

The beasts that walk like men slowly destroyed the other races our scouts had seen on the eastern side of the mountains. The proud giants of the ancient north, the Atlanteans of whom our allies were a lost tribe, perhaps many others, all were not seen any longer, and in their stead came the beasts, drenched in blood, with crazed eyes and evil intent.

We set a watch on the passes through the mountains. In the south we raised a fortress as a bulwark against their might. The land seemed to sleep.

Our people grew. Poetry and song rang in our halls. Great understanding was gained of ways to control the wild power of the wind and sky, and even the very earth yielded up its secrets. We grew strong in lore and thought ourselves invincible. In the north I was the silent god’s sure hand, destroying our ancient enemies, in the south we waxed strong against the monsters in the depths. Even Lugh of the long hand returned from his wanderings to serve the silent god.

Until they came.

When the sun set on the lonely fortress in the widest pass in the mountains the land all about seemed at rest, and yet morning brought a different picture. The sun rose sickly red, at the back of an army many hundreds strong of crazed beasts. A messenger was sent west to the capital, and those who could bear arms girded themselves for battle against impossible odds.

Many brave warriors shed their blood that day. The creatures wielded great maces or wicked curved swords with frenzied strength, and behind them hordes of archers sent a rain of arrows. Yet our warriors donned illusions by their arts, and went to battle. They earned honour, fighting an implacable enemy who traded them ten blows for every one they gave. In the space of a few minutes they were a few islands in a sea of bronze-armoured animals. Slowly they were overwhelmed. Slowly the islands grew smaller until they sunk beneath a sea of flailing maces, striking with animal rage.

Two of our sorceresses called mighty lightning strikes down upon them, but it was not enough. Wounds that would kill a man only enraged them. At the last the ever-young tasted death, falling to the rage of lesser creatures.

Yet some mind was behind them. Some cunning directed their actions. Among them were ghostly apparitions who you could see through. Also warriors who seemed to have died and yet were walking, wielding their armaments with deadly strength. Hordes of smaller beasts attended them, throwing stones and clamouring. Recognizable in their midst were a battalion of human archers, forced to fight for the beasts who were obviously their masters.

The siege did not last long. The bulk of our strength had died in the initial assault, and those few left inside the walls were not warriors but sidhe women, in study and contemplation. Relief was sent from the capital but the assault was so fierce, and the strength of the enemy so great that scarce had a month passed that a breach was made in the walls and the enemy poured through. They cut down our people without mercy. They left nothing but carnage.

And so as I returned from the far north I found that the ever-young had suffered defeat and despair at the hands of mere animals. My rage burned within me, and I rode east, towards the mountains, to ride from one length of their land to the other, cutting out their black hearts. People fear me. May they try to resist rather than fly from me. They will find a stronger foe than the day they cut down our women. They will find a nightmare who will haunt their last living hours and the eternity beyond. They will find the rage of the silent god.