The Son of Storms 26

“You don’t talk much about your time at Hogwarts,” Hestia said, her voice softly echoing in the glade that she had chosen to meet him in, her fingers running through his hair softly as he laid his head down in her lap. Tapping his chin, her amber eyes stared down at him with amusement as she nodded in the direction of Hogwarts. “Is the school not to your liking?”

“It's…ok I guess,” he answered after a moment, sighing as he felt Hestia’s calming presence wash over him with a wave of warmth and comfort. “There is just not much going on other than each day being a regular experience. Wake up, have breakfast, attend classes, have lunch, study theory, and practice spells. Then in the evening you do the homework, play around, have dinner, and then sleep. All of it just repeats the next morning. I thought I would enjoy Quidditch, but the team has no vacancy yet.”

“And you friends, the twins? Do you not enjoy your time spent with them?”

“They are fun…. Only sometimes though,” he rolled his eyes, but yet, she could see the slight fondness in his eyes for the twins—whom even she had mistaken for sons of Hermes, only the lack of divinity inside them confirming them to be not. Her so-nephew drew her attention, she corrected as she focused back on his bluish-green eyes, a part of her wondering when his eyes had gotten more azure than the shade of blue sea water they had been before.

“But they are children,” he frowned, waving a hand animatedly towards the castle looming leagues behind them, his voice frustrated and exasperated at the same time. “They don’t understand what kind of life I have seen or lived. I am the same age as them, but I have seen so much more. I like the peace, don’t get me wrong and it is nice to eat breakfast or sleep in my bed without alarms going off every third day…but I want something more”

“You want to fight monsters?” She raised an eyebrow, quietly moving her eyes towards the shadows to their east, her eyes meeting dozens of unblinking beads of black and sensing the hostility as well as the fear inside the spiders. In an instant, protective fury the likes of which would have made Poseidon jealous overcame her mind and Hestia’s eyes blazed brightly with a golden fire.

A silent warning.

At once, the creatures skittered back into the shadows, knowing better than to incur the wrath of a primordial creature like Hestia. Satisfied that the men-eating animals would no longer bother Harry, she turned back towards her son, his eyes closed with a smile on his face as he sighed and burrowed deeper into her lap, “Should we arrange for a colosseum to be built to alleviate your boredom?”

“Ha ha ha,” he scowled, giving her an eye roll, before his face scrunched up in confusion, “It's not that I want to fight monsters. But I am not enjoying the peace there as much as I thought I would.”

“You have spent most of your childhood fighting and surviving,” she said, her voice soft and understanding. “It is no wonder that a routine of peacetime would feel awkward. But yet, there is nothing to be done about it, Harry. The Celtic Lands do have their own monsters, but they are fewer and far between owing to them mingling with the magical creatures as well as the wizards culling most of them over the centuries. The only ones left are what you would classify as Class 4 beasts and above, or the smaller ones who live in obscurity and do not mingle with the wizardkind even. I would suggest…you find yourself a hobby, as the mortals now call it.”

“You want me to paint?” he raised an eyebrow at her, bemusement coloring his voice as he flicked his wand to the side, and the dried-up log was suddenly a stark white instead of rotten brown. “How about that?”

“Don’t get smart with me,” she flicked his ear, “You know what I meant. Find something to indulge yourself in. Everyone has something that they find solace and peace in, you just need to find something that can capture your interest and you can lose yourself in. You don’t necessarily even need to be good at it either, just be able to enjoy it and relax. And no, it's not necessarily painting. For all you know, it could be applying makeup like Aphrodite’s daughters.”

“Now you are hurting my feelings, Aunt Hestia!”

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‘Lumos’ 

Light illuminated the forest around him, and Harry focused on the sphere of energy floating at the tip of his wand, willing it to turn a softer shade of yellow as he saw a large centipede pause before his feet. Watching the little critter click its mandibles before it quickly vanished into the dried leaves, he thumbed the ring on his finger and walked into the forest. Eyes turning towards the small beaten path that led towards the clearing where he and Hestia had met yesterday, Harry looked back at the glowing windows of Hagrid’s cabin. He had seen the half-giant make his way into the forest just a few minutes ago, a massive sledge filled with dead animals in tow, and even from afar, Harry had seen the blood drip down the freshly killed animals.

He had heard the tales of this forest over the last year and some, the Forbidden Forest as old and legendary as the castle it bordered. Probably older even. There were hundreds of creatures in the darkness of the trees before him, and he had met a couple of them last year, when he had met Pholus and his clan. After that, he had seldom ventured into the forest, avoiding the Centaur territory entirely. Today he had been planning on taking a look at the northern section of the forest, much deeper into the wilder regions and beyond the beaten paths where the trolls were rumored to live at the foothills.

However, looking at the trail of blood by his feet…it appeared that he would have to find the trolls another day.

Holding his wand aloft, Harry walked deeper upon the trail with his eyes constantly shifting from one bush to the next, his ears peeled for the slightest rustle. Despite his demigod senses being practically non-existent at the moment, Harry could sense the creatures around him, the click of their teeth, the rattling of their tails, and the way they slinked between the leaves and bushes, their gaze trained upon him.

Most of them were too small to do anything to him, and were herbivores nonetheless—but that didn’t mean that the Forbidden Forest was without its predators that could hunt down an untrained wizard. There were rumors of drakes, giant serpents, trolls, giants, and even an occasional dragon nesting in the mountains at the far edge of the jungle. Carnivorous and poisonous plants were present aplenty, and Pomfrey treated dozens of students each year for having run afoul of one of them. That was without counting the infestation of the Devil’s Snare that the Forest had been dealing with for the past month.

“Just what the fuck are you doing, Hagrid?” he muttered, walking deeper into the trees and staring at the broken and shattered branches before him. “Feeding a goddamn city?”

Five minutes and a couple of stunners later, Harry found himself at the edge of a small creek, his eyes locked with half a dozen glowing ambers with his jaw hanging open in surprise and wonder. After all, it was not every day one saw a unicorn, and that too six of them at the same time. Harry made sure his body was as still as it could be as he made eye contact with what he presumed to be the head female of the small herd before him, the large quine staring at him unblinkingly while the other unicorns shuffled about, tossing their mane lightly as one of them pawed at the ground, huffing loudly.

With his time spent around the Pegasi at Camp Half-Blood, Harry knew it not to be a good sign—and considering his demigod abilities were far beyond him, he was in no hurry to get gored tonight. The matriarch snorted softly, her pearly white tail swishing through the air as her amber eyes blinked once, and he saw her gaze shift to the glowing wand in his hand, and his eyes widened in understanding as he cut off the magic to his focus. As the light disappeared into nothingness, the innate natural glow of the unicorns suffused the area in all of their glory, glowing ethereally and illuminating the world around them in all of their splendid beauty. Sloting the wand away slowly so as to not alarm the creatures further, Harry winced as the males growled lowly—and how the fuck were herbivorous organisms growling so terribly?!

“Alright, I am going, no need to be angry,” he muttered softly, making sure to keep his eyes on the hooves of the unicorns as he took a step back, his whole body deathly still. Honestly, it was his fault if they spiked him with their horns at this point, Hestia had fucking told him to stay put. But noooo! He had wanted an adventure, and wanted to play investigator!

“Ah hah, what do we have here? A demigod…are you the Greek child they are letting play house?”

The hair on his arms stood on its end as his whole body froze of its own accord, his eyes flicking up from the hooves of the unicorns to the voice that had spoken, finding two emerald and honeyed pools of amusement and judgment staring down at him, with antlers growing out of the entity’s head. Muted as they may be, his fleeting demigod senses had no trouble in telling him what he was looking at.

He had come out to find a creature…and the worst of them had found him—or best, depending upon the outcome.

A god.

“Well demigod, don’t they teach manners at the small outpost they are running in America?”

“Apologies…milord,” he answered, dropping down to his knees slowly as he looked at the unicorns, unsure if they would attack him still with the presence of a god looming above, only to do a double take as he saw them lowering their heads in deference to the enti-

“Shoo now, go and take care of your children, Leaf,” the god commented, softly rubbing the head of the matriarch, and she instantly trotted off towards the treeline, her herd in tow…with the small pony rubbing its snout against the god’s leg before following its family. As the last glowing tail disappeared amongst the shadows and the crunching of leaves and branches stopped, Harry wheezed as he was forced down to his knees.

A single finger was pressing down on his head, the rough tip seeming to burrow into his skull as he saw two hooves enter his field of vision, the lightly furred but muscles legs making his brain pau-

“Now, what is your name Greek?”

Considering the amount of vitriol and scorn the god had put into his origins, Harry wasn’t really sure that the antle–wait, that antlers! His eyes widened despite the pain as he connected the dots, his gaze flicking to the hooves before his face.

This was Cernunnos. The Celtic god of forests, wildlife, and fertility—and in some cases, hunting too.

“Yes I am Cernunnos, and you are the Greek that has been following these Unicorns for a while now…why?” the god drawled, his voice calm and placid like the evergreen trees filled with chittering animals, but yet, Harry felt the danger beneath, as dark and foreboding as the very woods around them. However, before he could even utter an explanation as to why he had been caught pants down—-or rather wand drawn with those Unicorns, he felt Cernunnos lean down. Cold, foggy breath washed against his face as the god rasped, “Do you perhaps wish to follow in the footsteps of Heracles, thunder-spawn?”

Physically incapable of it, Harry still felt his mental jaw drop open at Cernunnos’ words, before remembering one little tidbit from the dozens of history lessons Chiron had jammed into his head. Heracles had been a hunter for sport, loving to add every kind and creed of creature to his tally…and of course that prick must have offended Cernunnos too.

First Artemis, and now this. Honestly, it was kind of getting repetitive by now. Him getting his ass beat by gods just because Heracles offended them centuries ago.

“N-No milord,” he managed to mutter out, feeling a stinging numbness spread out all over his body as he felt invisible vines wrap around his limbs. Cold and creeping all over his body, the vines wrapped around his throat and pushed his face up as he Cernunnos straightened, the finger upon his head disappearing. His eyes meeting the god’s, Harry did not attempt to hide the pain he was under as he shook his head as much as he was allowed to, “I was following Hogwarts’ groundskeeper into the forest and exploring the woods. I had no idea of the unicorns here, and had been leaving the clearing having just stumbled upon them! I swear on Lady Hestia’s name!”

Instantly, warmth coursed through his whole body, and he felt the vines around him shirk away as Cernunnos too seemed to lose some of his displeasure at the Hearth Goddess’ name, a small golden glow suffusing his body before disappearing. 

“Very well,” the antlered god muttered after a moment of silence, abating on the way his presence weighed down upon his mind and body. “It is the Flamebearer’s favor that adds credence to your words and saves you this night, Thunder-spawn. However, consider this meeting a warning to you. If even a single creature or tree in this forest dies due to your direct actions, then there shall be consequences. And the groundskeeper…you mean that half-giant Hagrid?”

“Yes milord,” he nodded, rising up to his knees and staying there, slowly meeting the Celtic deity’s eyes, “I was curious about the animals he was carrying into the forest.”

“And that is not all you wanted to do was it?” came the sharp but amused reply as Cernunnos lazily turned around, his hands behind his back with much of his body shrouded in shadows. In front of him, Harry saw the imprint of his foot in the soil sprout with fresh leaves and grass, and a sudden draft of wind blew through the clearing as the trees groaned and barks splintered all around him. At the same moment, lightning flashed in the sky above, thunder following a moment later as Taranis’ presence grew tangible in the air around them. In that brief moment of lightning illuminating his surroundings, Harry finally saw Cernunnos in his full, terrible glory. Lithe and spindly, the Celtic god possessed bone-white, moss-covered antlers growing out of his head.

His skin was rough and flaky like rotting, dried bark, cracks splintering up and down his form as bracelets made of gnarled, leafy wood encircled his wrists. A loincloth made of bearskin was wrapped around his waist, and a girdle made of bones fastened it to his body. The next moment darkness returned again, hiding much of Cernunnos from his view—and before he could even think of uttering a prayer to either Taranis or Hestia, he continued. “Given that you have trespassed into my domain without my blessing and authority…I believe a punishment is in order Greek, is it not?”

“As you see fit, milord,” he muttered, making sure none of his anger bled into his voice—but yet, he knew that nothing untoward shall be done to him, not with both Hestia and Taranis watching over the events. Worst case imaginable, it would be just like when Artemis had cornered him like a petulant high-school bully.x

“Kill the half-giant’s pets, or I bury him under these very oaks.”

Wait what?!

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“You had no business tormenting that demigod so,” a very annoyed voice greeted Cernunnos as he appeared in the gardens of Dagda’s halls, the meeting place and home of the Danann. Taranis was seated in front of him, still wearing those dab grey robes as old as time with that bushy mane of grey-white hair all over his face. Stormy blue eyes stared at him with judgment, and Cernunnos barely controlled his growl of frustration at the older deity’s words.

“I don’t owe you an explanation regarding what goes on in my domain Taranis,” he shot back, making to move past the sky god, “and since when do you care about the life of a pesky little Greek?”

“I did not permit you to move child,” a frail hand blocked his path, calmly splaying open on his chest and Cernunnos stared down at the wrinkled, thin fingers as little arcs of electricity crackled along Taranis’ skin. It felt as if the very sky had crashed down in front of him to block his way, the god of thunder still seated upon the rock with his eyes closed. Anger and pride both burned within his chest, yet, he knew not to push against Taranis—both physically and mentally. As if reading his mind, the old geezer cracked open an eye and gave him a look. “I applaud your critical thinking skills Cernunnos yet I wonder…why did you feel the need to trample upon that Greek? You sure behaved a lot like someone you were spitting venom against. If it weren’t for your horns, I would have thought the Huntress to have returned to this land with how you were lauding your godhood over the boy. You certainly were dickless enough for it.”

“I was just warning him. He was stalking unicorns in my land!” he grit his teeth, taking a step back instead of forward as the flowers all around him began to wilt and the stalks began to wither, his anger finally overcoming his control at the barbed words thrown around by Taranis. “What I did was to protect my domain, my unicorns from that thunder-spawn. Nothing more, You may be older than me Taranis, but that still does not give you the right to judge or govern me.”

“I am the emissary of the Danann, Cernunnos. Everything that affects our relationship with our guests and foreign lands comes under my purview,” Taranis calmly spoke back, finally standing up from his seat. Even though he stood three heads taller than him, Cernunnos unconsciously took a step back as the grass beneath the thunder–god’s foot sizzled and burnt away into acrid smoke, “That child may have been sired by a Greek, yet his mother was one of our subjects. You shall not harm a single hair on his head until and unless he commits a crime using his demigod abilities, and the wizards don’t have a handle on the situation. If you have a problem with it, you will shut up and do nothing, because you can do nothing. I would rather not fight the Greeks because you decided to stroke your ego. The Flamebearer nearly burnt down the forest in her haste to get to you.” 

“You know what happened the last time one of them was present in that place,” Cernunnos growled, remembering the darkness that had befallen over the very heavens of the Celts centuries ago, the mortal world too being suffused in darkness as black and malevolent as the very pits of hell, “They know nothing but violence and destruction, ever since the times of the Devourer. What assurance do you have that this one will be any different? It was not you or yours that suffered when the world was doused in darkness blacker than any night we have known! It was my forests, my animals, my very being that was strangled and deprived of life bit by bit! Do you have any idea, any indication of how it feels?!”

“Enough,” a heavy, ancient voice intoned and at once, Cernunnos stopped in his place as his voice died in his throat. In front of him, even Taranis appeared surprised as the old god turned around, bending at the waist in a perfect courtesy as the grand, moss-covered doors at the end of the hall opened slightly, revealing the glowing white chambers for but a moment, “Ní bheidh cead ag Ekrizdis éirí arís.”

The words echoed in the halls like a celestial gong had gone off, and for all intents and purposes, it had…for the Dagda had awoken.

And given his verdict.

The grand entrance to Dagda's personal domain slowly closed off, cutting off the ominous, powerful presence from their senses. Both he and Taranis sagged in their places, a veritable mountain’s worth of weight lifted from their shoulders as they straightened up. All of a sudden, his disagreement with Taranis didn’t even matter to him anymore, as Cernunnos stared into the sky-god’s stormy blue eyes with his triumphant emerald ones. In ene eyeblink, Taranis disappeared with a crack of lightning, and the Wild One stared at the smoking imprints of his feet with a smile spreading across his face, the Eochu’s words making his whole being dance and sing with the joy of the first rains.

Ekrizdis won’t be allowed to rise again.