The God and the Healer - RP

Lochlan was standing at the grill, Davinas birthday party was today and the family decided to rent a beach house off Malibu. He drank a margarita that Niamh had made a batch off, thinking hell beer is good but damn this is getting me drunk. He hears adds more burgers, chicken, steaks, hot dogs...whatever to the grill. They are having a feast!

He checks his phone, no reply from Cillian. He was bringing his girlfriend, he wouldn't lie and say he wasn't excited to see her in a bikini. Chuckles to himself, he puts the phone away. He finally joins the family on the beach area, it's just steps down from the house. Their is a table spread with food, Lochlan sets a plate down. Davina suddenly appears, she was given the address to this house by Luke of all people. Everyone was caught up trying to do last minute stuff, they were thrown off guard but Davina smiles and says "You guys..." Lochlan kisses her, whispers theirs a swimsuit for her in the master bedroom, the house is massive. Big enough for everyone in attendance. You had Caius and his new lady, Niamh an Silas, Rowan, Ryan and his family, Luke and his family. Liam of course and the twins, Liam was allowed to bring a friend and they ran past throwing a ball to each other. Lochlan looks at Davina, "Good idea..." She smiles and kisses him, excusing himself Lochlan goes to make another batch of those margaritas. He goes into the kitchen and does so, not hearing anything outside. Music is blaring, laughing. But he doesn't notice how quiet it soon will get.

He comes back out, setting the jug down and he sees down the beach a blonde hair girl, Amy he was pretty sure. He heads to her, he sees also Davina, Ryan, Silas, all around her as well. As he gets closer, this feeling...this feeling of doom suddenly took over him. He felt it earlier, Caius did as well, the demigod perhaps? Niamh steps up to him, she is saying something about holding him back, Lochlan can't make it out, he could make it out enough a strand of hair. Amy sees Lochlan and she looks like she remembers him, she suddenly screams and screams and something falls from her hand. Lochlan looks down to his feet what it was.

Cillian, his son, his head with eyes open staring back at him. He stood quietly, just kind of staring while Amy was screaming uncontrollably. Davina put her hand on Lochlans arm, he didn't feel it. Shock, utter shock, his mind didn't even think. This was too much, too much to even take in. He fell to the ground and sat there near the head of his son, Ryan pulled Amy away. Niamh and Davina sat with Lochlan, crying, tears. He couldn't make it out, it was like fog noise.

Despite the news of the demigod's arrival, the family had been hellbent on having a party for Davina. Just in case, Caius had set up a shield around the beach. He told them he wasn't sure it would make a dent in anything, but it was all he could do. If he was no match for Niamh, he certainly wouldn't be able to take down someone older and stronger than her. Nia had merely been sitting and reading, enjoying the sun alongside Caius, Ryan, and Luke when the blonde-haired girl approached, her hands behind her back, a smile on her face.

Ryan set down his beer and hopped up to dust the sand off of his trunks. "Almost forgot. Apparently I'm Cillian's dad today. I'm off to meet the girlfriend."

Luke's head snapped back to get a look at her. "Fuckin' hell, that's Amy?"

Ryan squinted against the sun's rays to get a better look at her. "When I asked for a description, he texted back Baywatch. I'd say she fits the bill."

Luke snorted. "My man. I'll join you."

As they jogged toward her, Davina caught up alongside them, clearly eager to meet her stepson's new beau. "Where's Cillian, anyway?" she asked.

"Probably grabbing bags," Ryan answered. "Luke, if she asks, you're his... much older cousin."

"Ha. Fuck you."

As they approached, Ryan started to feel uneasy. What was with that same wooden smile? Was it nerves? And what the hell was she holding?

Ryan caught up to her first. He pulled off his hat, tucked it beneath his arm, and extended his free hand. "You must be Amy. I'm Cillian's dad."

Amy blinked, still smiling that creepy smile. Luke and Ryan shared a look.

"Is that a bag behind you?" Ryan asked. "I'd be happy to take it and show you to your room."

That was when he heard her scream. Niamh, right alongside Silas, their mouths open in horror. "No!"

Caius caught up to them in seconds and Niamh was still screaming when they materialized in front of Amy. Whatever she'd seen, it wasn't good.

Ryan and Luke were both pushed to the ground by Silas while Niamh jumped before Davina, spinning her to face away from Amy. "Don't look," she pleaded, but it was too late. Amy held out her hand, her voice saccharine sweet when she spoke. "Special delivery for Niamh!"

She held up Cillian's head, his face blooded and eyes wide open, and though Niamh and Silas tried to shield them, Ryan saw it first. The scream that followed was unlike any sound that had ever escaped his lips, one of pure grief, pure horror.

They barely had time to process it when Lochlan emerged from the house, saw the commotion, and came running. The group all stood as one with tears in their eyes, shaking their heads desperately and trying to shield him from seeing, but he saw. He saw everything.

Once Amy saw Lochlan's face, the face of the only man she recognized, she snapped out of whatever spell she was under and looked down at the head in her hand in shock. She let out the shrillest, most terrible scream and dropped Cillian's head into the sand, her hands going to her face, her body nearly collapsing before Ryan caught her.

He dragged her away, her cries nearly destroying his eardrums as she burrowed her head against his shoulder. He had to physically pry her away just to ask her what he needed to know.

Tears in his eyes, he shook her to bring her back to earth. "Who did this? What was his name, Amy?" He looked around in paranoia. "Is he here?"

Amy sobbed and shook her head. "I don't know, I swear! I don't know how I got here!"

Ryan cursed under his breath. "What's the last thing you remember?"

She stared past him, at the head in the sand, at Lochlan and Davina and the rest of his grieving family. "Oh my god!"

He'd never wanted to hurt somebody so badly in his life. It wasn't her fault, none of this was, but he needed something to work with. Anything. "Focus! What's the last thing you remember?"

She trembled beneath him, her knees pulled up to her chest as she rocked back and forth. "A guy, he showed up. A guy. I didn't even let him in, he just... appeared."

"Did he give a name?"

"Um, I don't..." Her eyes widened. "Logan. He said he was a friend of Cillian's."

The mere mention of his name had her breaking down again. Caius stepped in, then, and placed his hand against her head. "I'll comb through her memories, wipe them, and drop her off. The children are in my dimension."

Ryan nodded. "Okay. Okay. What now?"

Caius paused, looking just as terrified as Ryan was. "I don't know. I'll take you all there. I cannot guarantee your safety, but it's better than here."

Before Ryan could answer, Caius' hand was on his shoulder and he, too, was in the middle of Caius' castle with the rest of the party. Davina stood hugging Lochlan, Silas held Niamh, and Caius collapsed into the chair in the corner while Cillian's head lay on the beach, his killer's powers once again hidden from detection.

Over thirty years in captivity -no matter how much of a paradise the dark gods made it seem- was still, in every sense of the word, captivity. It didn't really matter how many men and women were sent to his home for his own pleasure, how many prisoners he practiced his powers against and killed. How good the food was, how ample the opportunities. Logan knew there was an entire world out there, yet all he was told was that he was the golden ticket. Only he was strong enough, only he would save them.

He trained. For years, for decades, he trained. From the moment he started walking and forever onward, he was taught to slay the enemy, yet remain hidden from those who didn't know of his existence. It was one of the very first things he'd been taught, in fact. How to hide his powers. For years he stayed camouflaged. For years he trained. He tapped into every power he'd ever dreamed of and a few that didn't surface until later. Days upon days, hours on end, he trained.

He trained, and he fucked, and he ate, and he trained.

The gods brought him everything he desired and then some. It was a cushy life, all things considered, but he wondered what the humans on Earth were up to. Wondered just who the enemy was. Who was this other demigod who posed such a threat? Why was she so arrogant, so sure of her own powers that she'd venture out into the world wherever, with whomever? Why hadn't he heard of but a few battles she'd joined and won?

If she was such a threat, she surely didn't seem like it. Seemed to him like her mere existence was an affront to him and all the work he'd done to hone his own strength. Where was her pride, her thirst for more? Why the fuck did she even exist if not to be a soldier?

He hated being hidden. For what? From a child who didn't know her own strength? His dimension had taken a hell of a hit during her ascension and it had actually given him hope. Finally a worthy challenger, he had thought. And then fucking radio silence.

Captive for what? Lied to and used for what?

The boredom was doing dreadful things to his own mind. He lay in bed at night practicing without realizing it. It was how he'd learned he could tap into every memory he'd ever had since his own birth. This was the one power the dark gods had never meant for him to discover. It was obvious why. The second he'd exited that birth canal, it had all gone to shit. Baby Logan crying and squealing. His poor, exhausted mother doing much of the same. Panting and sobbing atop a bundle of sheets on the floor of a run-down house covered in graffiti and cocaine-dusted furniture. They'd kidnapped and raped his mother and taken her to a junkies' den, of all places. Forced her to give birth to the most powerful, angriest baby in existence and then burned her alive in thanks.

So much for being found in an alley somewhere. How kind they'd been to take in the poor child, they'd reminded him. Yes, Logan, you're so special. Who'd give you up? You're a gift. You're our secret fucking weapon. You're family now.

His mentor, Atticus, arrived in the doorway to his bedroom. His eyes were wide in shock. "Logan, my boy. It's nearly time."

Logan shook his head, uninterested. "No, thanks."

Atticus laughed. "I'm afraid you misunderstand me. The girl has gone mad. She's lost her husband and she's destroying every dimension in sight. Looks like you'll finally have your battle."

Okay, he was interested. His brow lifted in question. "She's coming here?"

"Certainly. It's a thing of beauty, friend. She's sending floods and fire. It's quite biblical."

Logan rolled his eyes. "It's weak and uninspired, Atticus. The girl's had no training. It wouldn't even be a fair fight."

Atticus looked confused. "It was never going to be. You're older. Stronger. I thought you'd be pleased."

He shrugged. "Maybe. For a time. But I realized something recently, old friend."

"What's that?"

Logan stood, towering over the portly bastard in front of him. He tapped a finger against his temple and grinned. "A new power. Did you know I have access to every memory in my life? It's strange because I don't recall being rescued. In fact, I came into this world rather violently. If I cast my memory even farther back, I can even see your fat fucking face staring into my mother's gash as you forced her to push."

Atticus began backing away slowly, his excitement turning to terror. Logan matched every step until he had him caged in the corner of his bedroom. "The twisted thing is, I'm not even that upset about it because, well, I never fucking knew the bitch. But I've known you, my good friend, for every miserable second of my existence. And you lied to my face. Now, that. That is what upsets me."

Atticus shook his head, his jowls moving from side to side as he did his best to shrink into himself, away from Logan's righteous fury. "Logan-"

"I've heard enough out of you." He brought his hand up to cup Atticus' chin, forced his mouth closed, and then ran a thumb across his mentor's lips. His touch was pure fire, effectively soldering his lips shut as smoke rose from the fresh wound. Soon all he could hear were muffled screams of agony, but he wasn't quite done yet. "You lied to me. You used me and kept me hidden and you thought I was too stupid to figure it out. All those years, wasted. So I'll tell you what I'll do."

In the background he could already hear the dark gods shouting. He felt the rumbling of thunder, smelled the searing bodies of those he'd once considered family. He felt Niamh's power, her anger, her grief. His cousin had finally arrived to destroy the only home he'd ever known.

He leaned in closer to Atticus and smiled. "I'm going to watch as she torches our brothers and sisters. Maybe take some notes. Enjoy the show. Maybe head down to Earth and entertain myself for a while. And then, Atticus, when their guard is down and I'm so fucking bored I can hardly stand it? Then and only then will I avenge you."

Amidst the screams and the chaos going on right outside his door, Niamh hovered in the air like a true goddess, a fearsome fire in her eyes. She struck down every god who tried to flee. It wouldn't be long before the entire dimension was engulfed and scorched to nothing.

He yanked a squirming Atticus through the doorway, gave his backside one forceful kick, and watched as he fell into the flames.

As promised, he enjoyed the show. Looked on with arms crossed and glee in his eyes as his family was massacred, as towers crumbled, as his mansion turned to dust. It was impressive, surely, but the girl was an amateur to the core. Coddled since birth. Ignorant of her own strength.

One day he'd show her what she could've become. What she should've become, had her caregivers not utterly and completely failed her.

When the hole in his dimension opened up, he took the leap and headed for Earth. Freedom at last.

---

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Silas paced and worried while Niamh sat despondent, staring off into nothingness. He asked her if she needed anything, begged her to give him something to do. Anything, he'd do anything. He'd rip his heart from his chest and serve it to her on a platter if that would make her happy. He stood feeling useless, powerless, stupid. There was nothing he could do to fix this. He could only let her grieve.

It took the whole family to talk her down from doing something reckless. She didn't listen until they mentioned her brother. How he hadn't even been buried yet. To wait until Cillian was laid to rest. To plan and regroup and come up with a way to defeat the seemingly undefeatable. Now she simply sat in shock and denial. She didn't respond to his embrace, his words of comfort, didn't even shed a tear.

When she told him to go, he left. Now she was the one pacing. She paced one of the many bedrooms in Caius' castle, her mind working a mile a minute. Her only thoughts were ones of ripping Logan limb from limb, slowly and painfully. She'd skin him alive and cut out his insides. She'd have him begging for death.

She stopped in front of the bed when a piece of paper came floating down from the ceiling. She caught it in her hand to read the writing on the Polaroid picture, dreading the image she knew she'd find on the other side. In neat and perfect cursive, she read the words addressed to her:

Dearest Niamh,

I'm just getting started.

Condolences,

Logan.

She flipped the photograph and screamed when she saw it. Her brother's headless body was sprawled across the floor of his dorm in a large pool of blood, surrounded by suitcases and a half-eaten donut. Her screams grew louder, more frantic. She dropped the photo and swung at the mirror on the wall, glass embedding into her fingers and sending her blood raining down to the floor. She tore apart the bed, scorched the furniture, her anger shaking the very foundation of the castle in which she stood.

"Come and face me, you fucking coward!"

She seethed at the air around her, turning every which way, hoping to sense him. Hoping to sense anything that would give her the slightest clue as to where he could be.

"I'll fucking kill you! I'll rip you apart, you fucking piece of shit!"

Soon the family was gathered in the doorway. Silas appeared at once, his arms wrapping tightly around her, caging her against his body. She dropped to her knees and he dropped with her, never once letting go.

He'd disappeared long enough to warn Ulrich. To gather an army to take Logan down.

And for the first time in his life, he'd seen fear in his father's eyes.

Lochlan was sitting on a chair, drinking from a whiskey bottle. It had been at least a day by now. No one said anything to him, he didn't know any to say back. Caius came in to join, he had his own bottle knowing full well not to share Lochlans. The man sat in the chair across from his friend, the man quietly drank. Lochlan just stared at his hands, hunched over in the chair.

Caius opened his mouth to say something and Lochlan glanced to him but then the warlock closed it again, drinking some more. Lochlan drank some more, "Is everyone here right now...all the family, even the humans?" Caius nodded, Lochlan nodded happy at least about that. Lochlan gets teary, "I planned a party...instead of taking this threat seriously, we couldn't sense him and then we did, we ignored it. Pathetic..." Caius looks at him, "This is a very powerful being.." Lochlan nods, "Right, and I just..live on some dimension playing hide and seek with children. I was a warrior, a General...I changed, I decided on a family and nothing good has come from that. All of this could have been spared." He finishes the bottle. Caius looks at him, "You would regret not having your children..."

Lochlan stayed silent, that is the most he has said since it all happened. Lochlan finally thinks on something, "Did you look into Amy's memories? I didn't think about it, but I'm sure you did..,you could see what happened, what the guy looks like even." Caius went silent, Lochlan looks at him, "You did do it..." Caius gives a look of yes I did. Lochlan now puts his bottle down, "You are showing me, I want to know." Caius looks at him, "You don't want to see what I saw..." Lochlan looks at him, a bit annoyed "I have helped you, whenever you ask me too...and still you play this authority over me. You are not my father, you have a useful power and you're going to show me what happened to my son." Caius looks at him, he stands up "I refuse to do it, this is my house." Lochlan stands as well, both men are close to each other and Lochlan looks at him, "Then everyone else can stay here and I'll leave. What good are you...when you can't do what I ask." He stayed true to his word, finds Davina and tells her he's leaning the dimension and for her to stay here with everyone else, it's safer. He leaves without arguement and goes home, not his true home...wishes he could.

Logan watched curiously at Lochlan sat in his study, devoid of any emotion. He'd expected more tears, more screams. More of what he'd gotten from Niamh after she'd found the photo. It amused him that Caius had even attempted to ward his dimension. For the most powerful warlock, he'd expected something better. A measly shield? Logan had simply strolled on through, invisible to every eye in the mansion.

Was this shock he was seeing? Emotions had never been an easy thing for Logan to comprehend. Anger, he understood. Fear, when confronted by the most fearsome being of all time? Of course. He'd invoked quite a lot of that. But shock, sadness, depression? Genuine love and heartbreak? Nah.

Logan had to admit he was a little disappointed in the once revered General. He sat at his desk with no distractions, no television, no book, no music. He simply... stared.

Bored of lingering, Logan materialized and sat in the chair across from him, his legs crossed as he reclined. Lochlan jumped, startled, then sneered. Oof, he was angry. Finally.

He waved. "It's just me. Don't lose your head."

He couldn't help it. Lame joke indeed, but he cackled. Lochlan's nostrils flared, his muscles tensed for battle despite how futile it would be. "You must be my uncle. I'm Logan. Sorry I had to cut the family reunion short, but the idea of turning your wife's birthday beach party into trauma central was too good to pass up."

He got his digs in wherever he could. He was going to save Niamh for last. He'd savor each moment until he reached that point.

"Amy was a nice touch, right? She's a soccer player. The fun we had with your boy's head, I mean, holy hell. I should've taken more photos."

Lochlan looked at the man in front of him, a kid no less...to him anyways. "Uncle by marriage really, lets make that correction. I see you think you're funny. One of those psychos."

Logan shrugged. "I think I'm a hoot, but that's neither here nor there, is it? I didn't come just to gloat, Uncle Lochlan."

He pressed his hands together and intertwined his fingers, then leaned forward as if they were having a business meeting. "I have a bit of advice. Great in hindsight, but now? Not so much."

Logan noticed an array of knickknacks lining the edge of Lochlan's desk. He eyed a little circular clay disk with a tiny handprint inside of it. He picked it up, feeling as Lochlan's fury grew by the second. He read the inscription on the back.

"Cillian's handprint, age three." He grinned. "So stinkin' cute." He flipped it around to show Lochlan. "Baby hands. So tiny."

He placed it back on the desk and sighed. "Listen, Uncle Lochlan, the first thing you need to do is tell Caius there's no spell that'll hide you from me. That shield was pathetic. I see everything. Another bit of advice? Don't be too mad at your friend. You strike me as an emotional guy, and those memories are pretty fucking grisly."

Lochlan wasted no time in trying to pin him to the wall, Logan easily tossed him to the wall instead. He hits it hard and crashes to the ground. Lochlan stands up," So what is the sobstory, your reason for all of this...choosing to ignore a family who had no idea you existed? Niamh will end you, it doesn't matter who you kill to get to her.." He stands in front of the guy, "She will win, even you know it deep down...you can feel her power. It's bigger than yours and you're too much of a little bitch to admit that. So go on, rip out my fucking heart...it's dead already."

Logan laughed. "No fun in killing a dead man. And forgive me, but your sheltered Miss Priss of a daughter, stronger than me?"

He shook his head. "Right. No sense in hiding it now, is there? Hang on."

One snap of his fingers and his power was radiating once again. Just the same as Cillian had been, Lochlan was knocked back by the sheer strength of it. "You really only have yourself to blame, Lochlan. You see, I was training as soon as I could walk. I've practiced every day for over thirty years. Unlocked powers you couldn't dream of. Niamh, on the other hand?"

He knelt until he was eye to eye with Lochlan. "I thought you had something there for a second, buddy. I felt her ascension and thought I'd finally have a good fight on my hands. But did you let her fight? Train? Fuck no! Daughter of the General? Nah, too good for that. Too precious. And when your wife died? Forget about it. Magic was a big, fat no-no, wasn't it?"

He threw up his hands in exasperation. "Fuck's sake, man! You coddled the kid. Let her head get too big thinking she was the big man on campus. All that power and she fucking wasted it!"

Logan tapped Lochlan on the chest and sighed. "Niamh has potential beyond your imagination and yet you, daddy dearest, refused to let her use it. She could've been a match for me, Lochlan, but you royally screwed the pooch on that one."

"You'll get a front row seat when she kicks your ass, she didn't need to train or work hard like you did. She is naturally powerful, and yes she is too good for it. What are you looking for me to say or do? I can't kill you..., just looking to torment me, I get it. Think you're the first one to do this tactic? Do it, piss her off more and kill me...you want a fight, push her more." He pushes him, Logan doesn't even look affected at all.

Logan shook his head. "I'll let you stew in it. Why don't you make yourself useful and be a father for once? Train your kid. Don't send me a boring opponent."

Just then, he turned his head to see Davina walking into the room. Or the image he'd conjured of her, rather. It was fake for Logan but all too real for the former General.

Lochlan had no idea what Logan's plans were. Had no idea -not truly- what was really happening just now. And so he shouted at his wife in terror.

Logan sighed dramatically and rose to his feet, then rolled his eyes toward Lochlan. "Don't you just hate being interrupted?"

Lochlan sprang at him, screaming for Davina to leave, to run, to do anything, but he was too late. Logan plunged a fist into her chest and wrapped his fingers around her heart. With one quick tug, her body collapsed and her heart remained in his hand, blood dripping from his arms to his elbows and then pooling on the hardwood floor at his feet.

Lochlan screamed bloody murder. Logan had never seen such intense grief up close in his life. Lochlan didn't know whether to attack Logan or run to his wife, however useless each option would prove to be. His eyes were wide, mouth twisted in terror as he ran to kneel by her side.

With one wave of Logan's hand, it all dissolved. Davina, the blood, the heart in his hand. None of it had been real. It had only been real to the man who sat crying and confused on his office floor, clutching at nothing.

In walked the real Davina, scared shitless by her husband's anguished screams. Logan laughed at the irony, reveled in the look of dismay on Lochlan's face, and then he was gone from sight.

Lochlan stands up, Davina tried to help but he shook her off. Then looks at her, he grabs her and feels that she is real. They hug but then he breaks off, "I told you to stay in your fathers dimension, not that it's any help...he can go there too. Davina, he won't stop. I have fought my fair share of enemies,,,their is nothing remotely good about him at all, I can't do anything to protect my kids." He sits on his chair defeated, Davina kneels before him, "I am going to be with you, if I die coming to see you then so be it. I know you want to protect them but i think it's time you see one of them can protect themselves."

Lochlan looks at her, "You're asking I have her fight this guy...?" Davina looks at him, "She can do it..." Lochlan stands up and grabs some whiskey "I actually asked him to kill me, I begged for it almost...I've never begged an enemy for death. I can't do this anymore, I can't make these decisions...I didn't have her fight all this long, I denied her from her destiny..., none of it mattered. They are all still in danger."

Davina had never seen her husband so defeated, she looks at him still with determination "She is our only hope, she has to do it Lochlan. Support her like you supported Cora. This is how you protecf them, you push your daughter and give her what she needs to succeed."

"We don't have a dimension...we don't have an army." He starts to say, but then hears a familiar voice "But I do" Ulrich comes in behind Davina.

Ulrich walked up to Lochlan, his eyes sad, the usually professional demeanor slipping into something more like he'd used to be ages ago. A friend.

"Silas paid me a visit. I cannot put into words how sorry I am for your loss."

He stopped, not knowing whether to extend a hand, to embrace, or simply stand. It had been a long time since they'd interacted without bitterness. "You are my oldest friend, Lochlan. My army is yours. My dimension is, too. Anything you may happen to need, you shall have."

Before Lochlan could respond, Niamh materialized, prepared for a fight. She looked around with crazed eyes only to find that Logan had already left.

Her shoulders sank. "I felt him! I felt him but I had Rowan, and I couldn't fucking-"

She stopped when she saw her father, Davina, and Lochlan standing there giving her looks of apprehension. Her anger was shaking the room.

Silas appeared next, a sleeping Rowan in his arms. Niamh whipped around, pissed off again. "Why would you bring him here?" she snarled.

Silas lifted a hand between them to keep the peace. "Baby, you're the only one he's safe with. Not me, not your father, not Caius."

She had nothing to say to that. He was right. "Davina can keep him calm and put him to sleep if things get crazy, but he's not leaving your side."

Lochlan looked at Niamh, "You're going to fight him, it's what he wants. I want it too. I am going to train you, we will leave to Conway right now." It did not take much convincing. They appeared in Conway, the dimension itself had a strong army. It was the dimension that did decide everything, they ran the prison. Caius was back with the humans, Lochlan frankly didn't care. He wanted to train his daughter, his focus had to be on that.

They got settled into rooms at Ulrichs mansion, heavily guarded itself and Lochlan meets up with Niamh in a training room. It's grand, their are stands all around it. Weapons on the wall, Niamh walks in and he smiles, she's wearing Cora's uniform. He looks at his girl, "Where did you find that?" Niamh stood close to him, "I kept it, always has a place for it...I can do this Daddy, I know it's gotta be hard to watch me...but I'll be okay, I'll come back. I promise."

Lochlan looks at her, "If you're going to win, this sappy shit will have to stop..." He grabbed a weapon of his choice, looks at her to do the same, "We start with the basics...fighting, show me what you've got. You won't hurt me, you know I heal. I'm also you know...pretty bad ass with a sword." He holds that in his hand right now.

Niamh didn't want to hurt her father. She knew she was strong, but clearly she had untapped powers of every kind hidden away. Hell, Logan had made Lochlan live through a scenario that ended in Davina's death, and it hadn't even happened. If he kept toying with them like that, they'd lose their sanity, never knowing what was real and what was fake. The possibilities scared her.

"What if I hurt you without meaning to? I don't-"

Her father didn't give her a chance to finish. He slashed the blade before she could blink, aiming for her midsection. She quickly skirted his attack and dove to the side, wide eyed and breathless. "What the fuck?!"

He'd achieved what he'd wanted. She was mad. She dove for him and picked him up as if he weighed nothing, then slammed him down on the ground. In her hands she held the sword he'd brought with him. He was on her again in an instant, fingers going for her throat. She twisted, locked his arm beneath hers, and then spun and bent until he was flying over her shoulder.

"This is useless!" She threw the sword down in frustration. "I don't need strength training, I need access to whatever fucking powers I have! How do I even know what's what?"

Lochlan was back to her, "Learning to fight with a weapon takes skill and concentration. You don't always need magic to win in a fight. You need to know all aspects of being a warrior. The sacrifice, the long days you can go without a meal. Your body is trained in ways you can't even imagine, now do you want me to train you or not? Because you have exactly 2 days before your real test and no one....can show you, what I can show you. I know how to push you...to be what I need you to be. Keep going."

They fought back and forth and trained hard for twelve hours straight while Silas took care of Rowan. Eventually, while the child was sleeping, he joined them right alongside his father. He could hear Niamh's frustrated screams, the sound of weapons slashing through the air, the snapping of bones, and smacking of bodies against the training floor.

As much as he wanted to kiss her and hold her and assure her that everything would be okay, he couldn't. This was the reality. No one knew what tomorrow would bring.

Niamh turned to him when he entered. "I can't do this."

He laughed. "Bullshit."

Her jaw dropped. "How about a little fucking support, Silas?"

He strode toward her and shrugged off his jacket, then his shirt. Looked like he'd be the next one getting into the ring. "Boohoo. You're looking for someone to hold your hand and kiss it better. Your enemy isn't gonna do that, and neither will we."

He hopped on up and danced around her, waiting for her to make a move. "You're soft, love. Can't be soft in battle."

She narrowed her eyes at him and readied her stance. "I fucking hate you right now."

Silas nodded. "Good. Use it. You're sexy when you're angry."

She went for him, but he moved to the side and wagged his finger at her in disappointment. "He's trained all his life for this. Whatever move you make, he's going to be ten steps ahead. Think outside the box. Use your brain."

Niamh was way past feeling rage at this point. She was damned near homicidal. "I am!"

He looked back at Lochlan and shrugged, still bouncing on his heels and making circles around Niamh. "Are you really? I'm still standing."

She rushed at him and grabbed him by the waist, then squeezed. Bones snapped. He groaned for only a second, then smirked down at her. "Thanks for the hug. Come on, babe. Outside the box, Niamh!"

Then she did it. Focused so hard that the building trembled, the windows shattered, the floor itself began to split in two. They all watched as the ground opened up and exposed the fire and the screaming, writhing skeletons trapped in the hell dimension beneath.

Ulrich cleared his throat, having stayed silent until now. "Impressive, but it won't hold a demigod. Think harder."

Lochlan had her go through incredibly hard scenarios, it was impossible to make her like himself. He's trained since childhood. The guilt of not training her, he was foolish to think his children could have a normal life. He came alive when he met Cora, it was more than wars and planning tactics. He never had that sense of freedom till her, no one came close. Not even Davina.

It was the night before bed real test, Niamh had no idea what it was. She was on a strict diet of limited food, she was starving but she had to learn how to push through it. Her victory she would be given her reward. The next morning she was awake, barely slept and she was brought to the next level of her training, they arrived at the opening of the prison world. It was dark, gloomy, nothing about it made you want to stay. The security to get in was intense, Ulrich being the boss waved that aside and they made their way in. They get to a stadium area, people can be seen filling the crowds. Niamh looked at this and then to her father who was watching her, "I have to fight a prisoner?" Lochlan nods,"They merely pawns for you to practice your abilities on. Don't show any sympathy. "

She looked to him and everyone else, they announced her in and then her opponent. It was an average man. Lochlan watched from where they stood, it was very hard to do it. He watched as she used her weapon, the other person was not holding back and then he went to swing again as she was on the ground, it would go right into her head. It's her first time but Lochlan couldn't stand anymore, suddenly the man had a spear go through his gut and he fell dead. Lochlan stood above him.

Lochlan looked at that and then to Niamh, who is like what the hell and she was about to use her magic but she stalled. Lochlan looks at the scene before him, he trained her but he can't watch, he's weak he will admit it. "Don't hesitate next time..." he walks back to stand with Ulrich and Silas. He looks at them to dare they say something, they don't.

A new opponent comes in to face next.

Niamh looked back and forth from her people in the stands to the massive man on the sidelines standing next to the speaker. He looked more like the end boss in a video game than the man calling the shots.

Behind him stood a line of prisoners. How many had been there during her father's sentence? Did any of them know Cillian? Connor? She shuddered and tried to push the thoughts from her mind.

"Ready?" the man asked, and though she wasn't, she nodded. She hoped her father wouldn't jump in this time. The man shared a look with Ulrich, then gave him a thumbs up.

"Calling in the next five prisoners!"

Niamh paused. Five? They'd skipped from one to five?

Before she could prepare, they were in the ring. Two females, three males, all of them clearly experienced. Not a single one was lanky or nervous to be there. Their faces were hard and weathered, their muscles tensed and ready to fight. Niamh stretched and bounced on the heels of her feet, then pounced. The first one was easy to take down, but hand-to-hand combat was difficult when she could so easily turn them to dust with a mere thought.

Couldn't do that, though. Couldn't cheat. Logan would, but here, now? This was all about practicing the things she hadn't done before. So she picked up her dagger and swung, burying it into the throat of her next challenger.

One man jumped on her back while another pulled at her feet, hoping to bring her down to the ground. She shook her foot free and slammed it down onto the woman's head, splattering her brains onto the bloodstained mat. Then she bent forward and tossed the man who'd tried to wrangle her from behind. She slashed her dagger into his chest on his way down, then finished him with a chop to the neck. His head joined the bodies at her feet.

Then she stood as still as a statue, dazed, her gaze trained on the severed head. She thought of Cillian. She tried not to, but she remembered the beach. The photograph. Her little brother.

Silas and Lochlan watched from the stands, knowing exactly where her mind was at but powerless to help her. The fifth prisoner circled her but she barely paid her any notice. She kept seeing the images in her head, tried to shake it out, slapped at her temples and pulled at her hair. Anything to pull herself out of her own trauma.

Silas was so close to rushing in and finishing off her opponent himself. He risked a glance at his father. "Sir-"

Ulrich raised his hand dismissively. "Let her finish."

The woman struck while Niamh was facing away, tears in her eyes. Her head was yanked back violently, her long dark locks of hair twisted around the woman's fist. She snapped back to reality quickly, and in a panic, she saw the woman's blade coming toward her neck. She grabbed onto the woman's wrist and began to twist, bones bending and breaking, until the blade was pointing right between her eyes. She plunged backward with all her strength and turned to see the prisoner fall, only the handle of the knife sticking out from her flesh.

Niamh was angry, broken, scarred. She wanted out. She wanted to pause time and get all the training she'd ever need before Logan came back around. She wanted to reverse time and tell Cillian she forgave him for Connor. Really tell him.

She wanted to hug her brother. She wanted her mother. Connor. Every fucking person she'd ever lost because of the dark gods.

Fire in her heart and murder on her mind, she dropped to her knees and pulled the knife out of the woman's head. Then she plunged it back in. She stabbed, slashed, screamed, splattering her face and clothing with blood with each push of the blade. She continued until the auditorium was dead silent, until her opponent's head was mush. And then she stood, her chest heaving and out of breath.

"Next," she growled.

Lochlan was at bar area Ulrich had in his mansion, it is in a library type study, books around and a small bar in the corner. He helped himself to some whiskey. Niamh, his sweet baby girl, she was none of that today. She ripped apart her opponents quite literally. He won't lie and not say it was hard to watch. She was vicious, honestly it was like watching himself in battle...

"She was extrodinary" he heard someone say, he looks to see Ulrich come in and he asks if he can join him. Lochlan extends the stool next to him as he sits at the bar. Ulrich sits, Lochlan pours him a drink without a thought. Ulrich smirks and pushes it aside, Lochlan looks at him surprised "Since when?" Ulrich shrugs, "I chose to have a more clear mind, apart from a glass of wine at dinner..."

Lochlan takes the glass back he filled and downs it no problem, "Yeah, after Cora died..I became controlled by it. I was an asshole, and then I cut back when I felt more serious about Davina. She deserved better and still does most of the time. Now I laugh because...fuck it's good." He downs another drink and Ulrich laughs.

Ulrich looked at his old friend, "You and your family are welcome to stay as long as you need..." Lochlan nods in thanks, "I actually had a favour to ask..."
Ulrich looks at him, "Another? I've already gotten over hating you for a decade..." He smirks, Lochlan looks at him "Jealousy is a bitch..." Ulrich laughs, "Jealous...? You think that was my problem?"

"I screwed over your sister, were you really mad about that for this long?" Lochlan asks curious, Ulrich looks at him, "It is a tad. Ire complicated..." Lochlan looks at him, "Tell me, all you did was show up and punch me in the face.. You tried to do more but we all know I won that fight. Why did you hate me?"

Ulrich thinks on it, "my sister did love you and I have a loyalty to those I care for, you know that. I had this idea you would be true to her and we would actually be brothers through marriage. It is in the past."

Lochlan nods, "Yes it is but felt like asking, I'll stop." Ulrich nods, "You have spent too much time with humans, you share too much," Lochlan laughs, "Yeah, well I was married to a healer as well. He stops, getting upset but doesn't want to cry next to his friend. He's a man. He just hurriedly drinks down his drink.

Ulrich sees the tears in the corners of his eyes and quickly says, "What is the favour?"
Lochlan looks at him, "My mother, I want to see her."
------------------------------------------
Next day

Lochlan was getting dressed, just finishing with putting on some socks Davina walks in. She looks at him and takes a seat next to him on the bed, "Nervous?" She runs her hand up his arm, he looks at her "About seeing the woman who tried to sell me out, the list goes on and on..." Davina looks at him, "Why do you want to see her?"

Lochlan looked at her, no answer, deep down some times you need your mom. Davina just nods in understanding, "Would you like me to go with you?" Lochlan shakes his head, "I'll be fine...., Marit has been living a cosy life here thanks to her being my mother. Ulrich was impressed with her taking Cillians place and mine, she's been living in comfort."

Davina looks at him, "He is a good friend..." And Lochlan nods and it's silent. They don't discuss the elephant in the room, how Lochlan refuses to see Caius. He stands up and she looks at him, "He's shielding you, do you really want to see how your son died?" Lochlan looks at her, "I wanted to see the man who killed him, yes. I should be given the option. Your father dictates what to show, what not to show...he spent so long knowing he could let me speak to Cora and didn't tell me. He thinks I can't handle it or he makes the decision I can't..., am I that predictable?"

Davina goes up to him, her hands up his arms "You are not like the Warriors from your dimension. You know that..., you feel and have compassion." Lochlan looks at her annoyed, "Exactly why my kid is dead, if he trained like I did...he would know how to fight." Davina starts to cry, the pain she sees in his eyes, "Not against a demigod...." Lochlan looks at her, "He may have been in a different place, not on earth studying to be a doctor...I did this, I did it. Davina, I have to go. Don't bring up your father again, I'm not changing my mind."

He leaves without another word to her, their is a guard waiting for him in the main entrance. They take him to another part of Conway, it is little outside the main city. They come up to a magnificent house. The gates open and when the car starts, Lochlan gets out and you can see a kind of portal at the stairs to walk up to the door. The whole place is sealed by magic, Marit cannot leave. Lochlan goes to touch it and it lets him through, he walks in and suddenly it goes back up behind him. He makes his way up the stairs and knocks, it's not long and it opens to show Marit behind it. She was drinking some tea and sees who is at the door, her cup falls and Lochlan quickly grabs it before it breaks. "Hello Mother..."

She pulls him in and hugs him, he stands still as this woman never did that. She breaks off.

There was a certain feeling of exhilaration that came with each victory. Niamh couldn't help but feel lifted by it. She felt the power coursing through her, and though it wasn't enough, it was more than before. She could open the door to hell itself, at least. Ulrich had provided her with her own training room to use, and she used it well. Tested her powers with no one there to judge.

She roamed the halls of the Conway mansion, passing by servants and soldiers with each step. It reminded her of home. The home she'd grown up in and then destroyed without thinking. Guilt weighed heavily on her heart at the reminder.

When she stopped outside Ulrich's office, she reconsidered, lingered, then turned away again. The guards on either side of his door stood there with faces blank, weapons always at the ready. The one closest to her simply knocked on Ulrich's door as he stared her down.

"Niamh wishes to see you, sir."

Niamh frowned. "Really, dude?"

He shrugged. "If you can do what you did in the ring, you can talk to the boss."

Strangely, that brightened her spirits. "Uh, thanks."

Ulrich's voice filled the hallway through the set of speakers hanging above his door. "Let her in."

The soldier opened the door, threw her a wink that Ulrich couldn't see, and let her pass. The door closed shut behind her, sealing her inside of a large, fancy office with the man who hated her guts.

He didn't regard her with any hint of disdain, though. He looked up at her once, then beckoned her forward. "Have a seat."

She obeyed and dropped down into the chair across from his desk. "I hope I'm not bothering you. Like, you know, if you're busy or whatever."

Ulrich shook his head. "I'm not. Fancy a drink?"

She shrugged. "I could always go for some whiskey."

He got up, retrieved a bottle and a single glass, and filled it up. She thanked him and took a sip. Once he had sat himself down again, he simply looked at her and waited for her to speak. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter in her seat. "I don't want to take up too much of your time, sir. I just wanted to thank you. You didn't have to take us in or help me train. I know you and my dad have this thing between you both and yet you still dropped everything to help. It means a lot."

Ulrich waved a hand through the air as he reclined. "It's all bygones now. Watching you fight has also been a pleasure. You're your father's daughter indeed."

Niamh couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, sir."

He sighed. "I know you think I'm too hard on Silas."

She paused. Thought for a moment. "Yes, I do."

"Because I am. Because my father was tough with me. Threats like the one you're facing now are precisely why." He leaned forward and rested his arms against the desk. "Never doubt that I have an abundance of love for my son. But also know that when I die, my son will lead this place. He must be strong for that."

"I understand that. But it wouldn't hurt to let him know every now and then. That you care."

He nodded. "Perhaps."

She thought of Silas and smiled to herself. "You should see him with Rowan. He's gentle. Kind. He listens and plays and makes him laugh. Did you ever have that with Silas?"

Ulrich's lip quirked as if recalling a memory. "I did. Before training. He was far too young to remember it, though." He sighed and leaned back again, but his gaze never strayed from hers. "You people are a sentimental bunch."

Niamh chuckled into her glass of whiskey. "I wish you could've met my mom. I'm nothing compared to her."

"Not from what I've heard." When she looked back at him, he rose and came around the desk to stand before her. "I'm told she was incredible. Fierce, loyal..." He smirked. "Profane."

"She was a warrior. It's like she just knew what to do."

Ulrich shook his head. "You think she never had moments of fear before a battle? That she wasn't scared at times? And parenthood is the most terrifying of all, to know that she couldn't always be there to help you. You're a mother. I'm sure you know the feeling well."

Niamh nodded. "I do."

"I also know that she wasn't a god before she had you. She became one while you were still in her womb. You had such an immense amount of power, you transformed her into the soldier she became. You were looking out for her before she ever had to do the same for you."

She hadn't thought of it that way. She sat there in silence for a while before she spoke. "I'm terrified, Ulrich. I felt his power. I can't lose anyone else."

"And that is why you'll win. He has nothing to lose. You have everything."

Well, that was quite the boost. Niamh quirked a brow at him, confused by all the sudden kindness. "I thought you were supposed to hate me."

Ulrich laughed. "We have rules in place. I took an oath to abide by them. It doesn't mean I don't understand why you did what you did. You also may one day become my daughter-in-law, so it would behoove us all to try and get along."

The thought of marrying Silas hadn't been one she'd necessarily entertained, but part of her welcomed the idea. He was good to her. He was great with Rowan. He'd be a hell of a father. And, well, she loved him. She didn't think she'd ever find it again after losing Connor, but she had. She'd found it with the person she'd least expected.

Satisfied, she stood and held out her hand. This time he accepted the handshake. "Thanks again. This was a nice heart-to-heart. We should make it a thing."

He winced. "I'd rather we didn't."

She patted him on the shoulder. "You could have one with Silas. Bro it out. It'd do you good."

"Perhaps."

"I guess this is my cue to shut up and leave."

Ulrich chortled. "Good night, Niamh."

She saluted him, albeit sarcastically, because what else was there to do? He was the boss of all bosses. She didn't quite know the protocol. "Good night, sir."

She spun on her heels and walked off to join Silas for the night. Training would commence tomorrow and she'd need all the rest she could get.

Lochlan walked on, Marit was all too excited to have company in general and let alone it be her son. She shows him to her living room, he sits and looks at her "I had a much different experience when I was doing time for Cora, Ulrich really likes to choose when he cares and doesn't." Marit sits across, "He would have made sure you never died while doing the battles, you couldn't pass up having a fighter like you dear."

"I suppose, I am here to tell you one of your grandchildren has died. Cillian." He says calmly, Marit looks at Lochlan, sadness in her eyes, "I am sorry for your loss Lochlan, you are a far better father than yours ever was," Lochlan nods, "I can agree to that..."

Marit offers him a drink and she asks to know how it happened, Lochlan fills her in on the whole thing. "Bring me your daughter, Niamh, I can help. I know of a weapon your father once had. I know where it's located." Lochlan laughs, causing Marit to be surprised. "You just want busted out, I don't think so. Ulrich has been patient with me but I am sure taking down the magic long enough to last me pass it was no easy picnic." Marit looks at him, "I am speaking the truth, I want to help...this weapon will help her."

"You ready?"

Silas stood next to Niamh as they stared into the portal she'd just opened up. The portal into Marit's home in the prison dimension with high security and armed guards. No biggie.

"Yep."

"Hey, did you talk to my father, by any chance?"

Niamh whistled innocently. "Hmm?"

Silas laughed and shook his head. "He called me into his office after you fell asleep. We had a very... weird conversation. To say the least."

Niamh shrugged. "We may have spoken."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I don't have to do anything, do I? I wanted to." She winked. "I knew I'd charm your old man eventually."

Silas grabbed hold of her hand. "Shall we?"

Together they crossed over, then landed squarely in the middle of Marit's living room. Niamh's mouth opened in shock. "If this is prison, sign me the fuck up."

Marit appeared in an instant, a welcoming smile on her face. "You're a spitting image of your mother, aren't you? You talk like her too."

Niamh stepped forward and held out her arms. "Nice to meet you, uh... Grandma." She shook her head. "Nope. Too weird."

Marit embraced her anyway, holding on for as long as she could before they separated. She cleared her throat and pointed toward Silas. "This is my boyfriend. Silas."

Silas shook her hand and offered her a smile. "Pleasure. Lochlan says you know the location of some secret weapon?"

Marit chuckled. "Don't trivialize it. You know nothing of its power. In fact, only a demigod can wield it. You'll be the only one who's ever been able to retrieve the sword, save for the first demigod in existence to use it."

Niamh's brows shot up to her hairline. "Say what?"

Marit nodded solemnly. "A tragedy, actually. He took his own life with it. Waste of a perfectly good sword if you ask me."

Niamh and Silas exchanged looks. "That got dark."

Marit shrugged. "Heartbreak. Lost the love of his life or some other reason, who knows. He spent centuries crafting a blade that could kill his kind, only to use it on himself." Her eyes brightened. "But now it's yours!"

"Suicide Sword 3000. Awesome. Where is it?"

Marit threw on a coat and fluffed up her hair. "Bit chilly where we're headed. Fair warning."

Niamh was ready to go, but she turned when she heard the clinking of cuffs. Silas had come prepared, too. "Afraid I have to take precautions, Marit."

Instead of taking offense, she nodded. "Understood. Niamh, grab a jacket from my closet."

Such a grandma move. Niamh grabbed one anyway and put it on, then tossed an extra to Silas when he'd finished restraining their prisoner. Bundled up and ready for a winter wonderland, Niamh opened up another portal and let Marit lead the way.

It was indeed cold when they arrived, but the scenery was something to behold. There were snow-covered mountains everywhere they looked. They stood on a frozen lake that would be a ton of fun to ski on. "Looks like a fucking Christmas card. We should bring the kids here."

Silas didn't want to dillydally. Ulrich didn't exactly know they were taking this excursion. "Right. Now, the sword?"

Marit sighed. "So impatient. It'll be under quite a bit of snow at this point. Niamh, seek it out."

Niamh paused. "Beg your pardon?"

Marit grinned. "Surely you feel it. Don't think about the cold or the kids or Logan. Free up your senses and let it find you."

And so she did. She emptied her mind of all other thoughts and simply focused. She felt it then, like the beating of a heart that grew louder by the second. She could already feel its power coursing through her, and she wasn't even close to it yet. "Holy shit."

Marit beamed and clapped her hands together as much as her cuffs would allow. "Oh, I knew I kept this a secret for a reason. I'm so glad I could help."

She felt it beckoning her, calling her toward the top of the tallest mountain. The feeling she got was so hard to describe, but it was as if it had always been hers. Calling to her, waiting for her, after all these years. In seconds, they were there. Silas walked where Niamh directed him to go, then held his hand above the snow and let fire flow through him. It took no time at all for the snow and the ice to melt.

Nestled between rocks and nature sat an ancient-looking, weathered wooden box. Silas grinned at Niamh, then went to open it, only to be knocked backward several yards by the sheer power emanating from within. He groaned and stood on shaky feet, dusting snow off of his clothes. Marit smacked her lips and shook her head in disapproval. "Men never listen, do they? It's only for demigods. Says right there on the box."

All Niamh saw was intricate carvings in a text she'd never seen before. "Looks like a bunch of scribbles to me."

Another heavy sigh from Marit. "It's our language. Used to be, rather. My word, do they teach you children anything about our history these days?" She pointed to the box. "Go on, dear. I'm anxious to see it."

Niamh stooped to open the box, feeling electricity flowing through her veins. This was it, she just knew it. This was what would kill Logan. The sword was gorgeous. Sharp. Deadly. The handle was carved from what looked like bone. When she touched it, she threw her head back and took in a deep breath, the magic filling her with awe. Her hand trembled as she held it. She had never felt more powerful before in her life. "Holy fuck. It's like it was mine all along. I can't even tell you how it feels."

Marit squealed with joy. "Marvelous! Do visit me some time. I want to hear all about what powers this sword will unlock for you. This is the most ancient, most pure form of demigod magic, dear. It's straight from the prophecies."

Niamh twisted the sword around in her palm, marveling at every angle, at how it glistened in the light. "Do you think Logan has one like this?"

Marit snorted. "Absolutely not. This is limited edition, Niamh. One sword to rule them all, as it were."

Niamh looked back at Silas and smiled at him, her joy impossible to keep contained. "Babe, this is it. This is what I was missing."

He ran to her and kissed her, cradling her face in his hands, his laughter muffled against her lips. She wanted to continue this somewhere else. Somewhere warm. Without the audience, preferably. "Let's head back," he whispered, and because they were on the same page, she nodded.

They dropped Marit off at her home, and after Niamh had finished her long list of thank yous in gratitude, they were off to Conway. Niamh held her sword for the longest time, admiring the way the handle fit perfectly in her fist. When they returned, he laid her on the bed. Undressed her. Took his time and made love to her. And then they fell asleep with the sword on his nightstand only inches from her head, never far from reach.

It was the next morning and Niamh woke to see her father, he was looking on the sword placed on the desk in his daughters room. "That's it..., a sword?" Niamh covers herself, "I'm not even looking Niamh, don't be dramatic." Silas pops an eye open and looks to see Lochlan, coughs awkwardly.

Niamh looks at her dad, "Can you maybe...get out?" Lochlan goes to touch the weapon but Niamh calls to him, "Only a demigod can touch it..." Lochlan backs up. "Of course..., okay, get ready. More training..." He goes to leave, Niamh calls to him, "Dad, I'm ready." Lochlan looks at her, "No you're not." And he leaves.

Niamh looks at Silaa, "He's never going to admit when I'm ready...." Silas agrees with her, "Not that I can blame him, the man has lost a lot. Dad and I will talk to him." Niamh laughs, "You think I'm stubborn, I get it from him....but good luck."

While Niamh was off training with her new sword, Caius, Davina, and the human half of the family were getting used to life confined in the Conway mansion. There was more than enough room, but tension was high. They all knew that Niamh was the only one strong enough to protect them, and it weighed heavily on Caius' mind.

That and the fact that Lochlan, at one point his closest friend, was no longer speaking to him.

He hadn't slept in days. To stay awake, he survived on caffeine. To stave away the awful memories he'd conjured from Amy's mind, he drank. He drank a lot these days. Not enough to dull his senses, but it didn't really matter either way. Logan had made it clear that Caius' magic wasn't cutting it. He saw everything. He was probably watching them now.

Ryan and Sophia shared a couch in the main room with the children draped over their laps, sound asleep. Luke and Kat sat across from them while the adult children busied themselves with coursework and their own kids. Davina paced, cooked, and cleaned. She fussed over the kids, seeing to it that they wanted for nothing while they were there. She couldn't remember the last time she'd sat down to relax. She worried herself sick, then worried some more.

Caius sat alone nursing a glass of scotch, his eyes glazed over from exhaustion. Davina joined him and knelt in front of his chair until he was forced to look at her.

"I called Nia. She's fine."

Caius nodded. "I know. I..." He tapped his head when the words wouldn't come to him. "I checked."

Davina nodded. "Daddy, he'll talk to you again. He's mourning. When this is all over, we can breathe again."

Another nod. He sat numb and depleted, staring off into space. Davina sighed. "Can I get you anything?"

He shook his head. "No, dear. I'm watching her train. Watching the borders. Just... watching."

She grabbed onto his hand and gave it a squeeze. "If you'd let me, I could help."

He jerked away from her as if she'd hurt him. No magic was going to ease his stress, and he couldn't risk getting comfortable. "No. I'll rest when it's finished."

She stood and paced again, because what else was there to do? Davina jumped when Niamh appeared with her sword in hand, flanked by Lochlan and Silas. She rushed forward to embrace her husband while Niamh kicked off her shoes. She didn't bother to seek out a couch; she sank onto the floor, exhausted. Silas joined her on the carpet and let her rest her head against his chest.

The second Lochlan caught sight of Caius, he clenched his jaw and turned away. No one in the room dared to speak.

Except, of course, Caius himself. "Lochlan."

He received no answer. Instead of sinking back into himself as he'd done lately, he set down his glass and stood. "You cannot avoid me forever. Please, let us talk in another room."

Instead of replying, Lochlan walked through the door and out into the hallway. Caius followed closely behind. Once the door slammed shut, Lochlan's glare was burning holes into him.

The drink had clearly gotten to him, or perhaps it was the lack of sleep. He wobbled slightly before correcting his stance. It was hard to look his friend in the eyes, but he did so, a firm hand grasping Lochlan's shoulder. "How long are you going to hate me?" He was mourning, too, just like the rest of them. He was desperate for some kind of reprieve. "Is this really all you need, Lochlan? To see your son die?"

His eyes began to fill with tears no matter how hard he tried to keep them at bay. "If I could erase those memories, I would. I see it every time I close my eyes. How could I do that to my friend? How could you want me to?"