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Cold Iron (ToT for J)

A board dedicated to fan written work about Pandect. Includes poetry, original song lyrics, and short and serial stories.

Moderators: Sihaya, Metanaito

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Joined: Sun Jan 20, 2008 5:02 pm
Location: Belgium, Europe

Cold Iron (ToT for J)

Post by Sihaya » Fri Nov 01, 2013 6:47 am

Happy Hallowe'en, dear Kor :)


“This is Germany all over again,” Noah said. Edgar rolled his eyes.

“It isn’t,” he said.

“And everyone has red hair!”

Edgar valiantly resisted the urge to strangle him. “It’s Ireland,” he enunciated, “of course people have red hair.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t have it wrong?”

“She never has it wrong. Will you stop whining? You’ve been at it for over an hour!”

“I’m going to call her to make sure,” Noah declared, and produced his phone. Edgar slumped down and let his head hit the bar. The barkeep promptly served him another measure of Guinness.

“I know why you’re calling me, Noah,” Venus’ tinny voice said over the phone, “and you’re full of it. You know I’m right. You know an exact timing is never included. You know you’re driving poor Edgar insane – again! Sit your taco down on that bar stool and wait for it.”


“No buts! I’m the best psychic there is, and I didn’t even have to be one to know you’d be calling right around now. Your medium has told you that loads of people are going to die at Eightercua, sometime around Samhain. That’s tomorrow. You’ve only been in Waterville for two days. Suck it up and do your bloody research!”

“She hung up on me,” Noah pouted.

“You deserve it,” Edgar said, still muffled by the bar.

“We’ve turned the local heritage society upside down looking for what it could be, but those stones are supposedly nothing more than some queen’s grave and aligned to the sun or moon or whatever. There’s nothing here! And she says it’s not a haunting, so what the hell.”

“This is Ireland, we’re close to an age old landmark, close to a bog, a forest and a lake, and it’s Samhain. The Aes Sídhe are going to be all over this place. I’ve been telling you that for the past week,” Edgar said.

“No way. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, banshees, no problem. But fairies? Never seen anything to prove those were real.”

“Banshees are Sídhe, technically speaking,” Edgar scoffed. “For a hunter you have a surprisingly narrow mind.”

“We can’t all be nerds,” Noah said, and raised his pint in salute. Edgar glared daggers at him.

Another gaggle of teenagers came in, talking and laughing loudly and ordering soda’s like they were supposed to.

“Is there a boarding school near here, or something?” Noah asked the barkeep. “There seem to be a lot more kids around this village than I would have expected.”

“There’s a rumour going around that the greatest hallowe’en party ever is going to be held around these parts, tomorrow. They’ve travelled in from all over the country, I hear. There’s an impromptu camping ground just outside the village, over by Kenmare Road.”

“On the way to Eightercua,” Edgar said under his breath.

“Any idea where the rumour comes from? We haven’t seen any flyers or posters put up.”

“I guess these days it’s all social media,” the man shrugged, and left them to their thoughts.

“Let’s head back,” Edgar said.

They’d found many references to the festivities on facebook, tumblr and twitter, but they hadn’t been able to find the actual source – if there was any. They’d gone on to try and find a definitive source on whether or not the original mound of Eightercua had actually been removed by road workers long ago, and if there had been more mounds surrounding it, but Edgar’s theory was that they used to be fairy mounds, and that the Aes Sídhe were making the time to have a little revenge this year. Either way, they were following the hoard of people, most of them teenagers or early twenties, down Kenmare Road towards Eightercua, armed with iron rods and bags full of iron shavings, and wearing iron bracelets and collars.

“Is this really going to be enough?” Noah asked.

“We had less than this when we went after that knudde in Brughes, remember?” Edgar shrugged. “We had to improvise. Venus hasn’t called back, so we’ll be fine.”

“That’s one way to look at it, I guess,” Noah said. He slid his free arm around Edgar’s waist. “Hey, sweets, when we get back to the B&B, do you think we can…”

Edgar elbowed him. “Head in the game, Noah.”

“Alright, alright. Are we there yet?”

Edgar went back to rolling his eyes.

There were lights in the distance and the excitement of the crowd around them grew even more. People were dressed up as everything even slightly supernatural and were carrying torches and candles, so the lights in the distance had to be at least bonfires to be noticeable from here. Noah and Edgar made their way forwards, until they made it to the head of the column. No one paid them much heed, they were all too buzzed.

They rounded a bend in the road.

In front of them were five enormous mounds, the gaping openings inside lit up with a thousand candles, and in the open space in the middle were bonfires and fire pits surrounded by tables laden with food and drink. Waiting by the first bonfire were four men and a woman of unearthly beauty in gowns and robes made of the finest fabrics, trimmed with gold and fur and leather – Edgar didn’t want to consider what animal had provided the latter.

The column of partygoers came to a halt, overwhelmed by the vision. Noah and Edgar hurried forwards.

“I’ll try and distract the Sídhe, you pour iron over the thresholds. If we can be quick enough, that might even be enough. They’re trying to lure everyone inside, so I don’t think they’re preparing for a fight,” Edgar whispered.

“We’ll have to hope so,” Noah said.

“Come closer!” one of the Sídhe said, “Eat! Drink! Celebrate this night! The harvest is in, the new year is starting, and the night is young! Inside you will find the most wonderful surprises you have seen in all of your lives.” Her voice rang across the land and seemed to hook itself into your mind, made you want to run to her and do everything she asked of you. People started to move forward again.

“We have to hurry,” Noah said, moving away from Edgar to go to the first mound.

“Be glad the collars worked against her glamour,” Edgar grumbled. The Sídhe had noticed something was off about him and moved towards him. No one else was coming outside, so either they were still sure of themselves or they were the only ones currently on this side of the veil – and they were never that lucky.

“My Lady,” he said, bowing slightly, “My Lords.”

“What are you doing?” she demanded, turning the glamour all the way up. He staggered. She reached out to steady him and put a hand on his wrist – over the bracelet. She hissed and for a moment he could see her true face. The glamour broke and he whacked her aside with the rod, striking at the men accompanying her in his backswing. They screeched when he hit them but recovered too quickly for Edgar’s liking.

“Noah!” he yelled.

Noah just finished pouring a line of iron shavings across the threshold of the first mound. It shimmered back beyond the veil immediately.

“It’s working!” he yelled back.

Some of the partygoers began to get nervous: one of the hills in front of them had just vanished into thin air and a fight had broken out in the clearing. On top of that they were still high on the glamour. If they took too long, they’d have a panic on their hands.

“Hurry up!” Edgar growled, and doubled his efforts. He hit the woman across the face and got her with the bracelet. He’d managed to break a leg on one of the men, but two of them had drawn swords and it was all he could do to manage. He’d thrown a handful of the shavings in his own bag in their faces and they were pretty evenly matched now, but there was no telling how long it would be until they recovered. They were all the way into this world, unlike the mounds which were only gateways.

Noah closed the second one. “I’m going to need your bag, too!” he yelled.

“Come and get it!” Edgar yelled back. “I can’t do everything for you!”

“Such a gentleman!”

“If you’ve got enough breath to sass me, then run faster!” Edgar yelled. “I don’t think I can hold them off much longer!”

“We’ll switch!” Noah offered, hurrying to pour the third line.

People were calling the police. Edgar had no idea if the reports would be taken seriously, but they would have to get out of here and away from Waterville as soon as they were done here.
“Looks like you’re going to have to make new plans for the evening!”

“I never get to have any fun,” Noah said. “On my way.”

Three mounds had been closed off and Edgar had managed to incapacitate two of the Sídhe. Noah jumped into the fight and together they managed to take out one more. Noah even got his collar around the woman’s own neck and she started screaming in horror. Her flesh sizzled.

“Go!” Noah urged, and Edgar rushed off to pour the last lines. People were starting to run back towards town, now. No doubt they’d taken pictures before leaving. He could only hope they’d be unrecognisable in the low light.

“Are they going to vanish too?” Noah yelled, trying to keep the last swordsman away.

“God, I hope so,” Edgar muttered, and poured the last ten centimeters. The fifth and final mound shifted back to its own world. The woman was still screaming and the swordsman kept attacking – so much for that theory.

Edgar rushed back and rammed his rod through the swordman’s back. He slumped to the ground next to his compatriots. Edgar upended the rest of his bag of iron shavings over them and they finally stopped moving. The sudden silence seemed eerie. The tables of food had vanished along with the last mound, and the bodies were already turning to dust. The crowd had run back to Waterville.

“Well, then,” Noah said.

His phone rang.

“Venus,” Edgar said.

“Hey, doll,” Noah said.

“Well done,” she said over the phone. “Get your tacos out of there.”

“Thanks, doll,” Noah said.

Edgar felt like he could sleep for a week. “Let’s go then,” he sighed.

“Not so fast,” Noah said, and tackled him to the ground to kiss him silly until they heard the police sirens.

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