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y Dderwen (IC)


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Blodeuwedd was confused and a little jet lagged. The headmaster had torn apart her cover story and more or less told her that he knew about the order. Then he had invited her to stay at Claremont.

And she was uncomfortable in the city. She had grown up in a small village where she had known everyone living there; new comers and visitors were, deliberately, rare. Here she was surrounded by people, all of whom she didn’t know.

So instead of finding her “guide†and settling in she decided to calm herself a little, she found the large tree she had seen earlier and scaled it branches. Settling down she pulled from the bag, containing her only possessions, a small battered copy of the Mabinogion and sat back to read her book.

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The rapid series of thuds on the ground alerted her to the approach of Subito several seconds before he came into view, legs pumping as he raced along the path, wearing the school track uniform which strained slightly under his unusually well-developed build. Coming to a stop at a drinking fountain in the shadow of the tree, he took a quick drink, and while wiping his chin of the liquid he happened to look in the direction of the Welsh agent long enough for his eyes to adjust and detect her among the branches. With a single bound he was at the base of the trunk, calling up cheerfully in a voice that strongly belied his perpetual slight frown "Hi there! What book is that? Is it good?"

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So engrossed was she in the book that she was surprised by the sound of Subito's voice. Giving a little eek she almost dropped her book. Her first instincts were to hide, she could simply disappear and never have to deal with anyone here. But no if she was going to have to stay here then she would have to try and get along with everybody else. She sat one the edge of the branch so they could see each other better.

"It's the Mabinogion." As if no other explanation was necessary.

She was suddenly aware of how quiet her own voice sounded. With her strong accent, at least she remembered to speak English, she was afraid he wouldn't be able to understand her.

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There was a short silence as Subito considered her words, long teaching leaving his thoughts completely open to even a casual observer. He had never heard of the Mabinogion, but the name certainly sounded fantasyish, and rang distant bells. Shrugging he launched himself up the tree, climbing effortlessly to a branch a little below Cerys, where he lounged casually with a leg dangling off of his perch "Don't think I've seen you around here before, I'm Subito, you a new student?" he asked eagerly "We've gotten a lot of new arrivals lately, some of the faculty say it's "like the 2000's all over again"" he laughed openly at that before asking "What's your name?"

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A light breeze ruffled Blodd's hair up in the tree, followed by a light creaking beside her. To Subito's eyes, he'd only blinked, and there was suddenly a most familiar figure dangling by one ankle from an upper branch. Directly beside the new arrival.

Morgan Crowe crossed his arms, his coat covered in elaborate Gaelic runes hanging by his shoulders; a light wisp of smoke rising from one rune in particular. A light twitch was developing under his left eye. Almost absently he noted the twin presences below and beside him, and the dangling student sighed.

"...Subito, why does this tree hate me?"

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"Dunno Morgan!" Subito declared enthusiastically "Mebbe some kind of spirit lives in it that you ticked off sometime? Have you ever kicked a forest sprite or something?" he asked while bounding up to the dangling teen. Neatly removing him from the branch he set Morgan down on the one just below him(Pretty convenient how this tree grew he thought to himself cheerfully) and said brightly "So yeah..Morgan, this is our school's newest recruit, I think" he turned to Cerys "This handsome pile of manliness is Morgan! Pretty sure he and I would be happy to show you around, if you haven't already figured this place out on your own, that is"

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She was just considering what name to give when he arrived. Though the order had little information they had provided photos of possible targets to watch, and he was one of them.

She had thought full and even practiced how she was going to talk to someone like Morgan. But not quite like this. She lowered her eyes and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear, she even felt herself blushing.

“Er yeah… hi I’m Blo- … Cerys, Cerys Pefr.â€

Why did she sound so much like a blathering idiot? She was fine with all this in practice, but somehow here in the real world she was struggling.

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"Tree fae?" Morgan landed quite lightly on the other branch, crouching down on it and perching like his other identity's namesake. "Dunno, man. Not many forests back in downtown Boston. The Lady might have one working for her, tho'..." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, then shrugged.

"Eh, one of these days the office'll send back that 'request permission to purchase and use axe' form with approved stamped on it. And I will be a happy, happy Crowe then. I'll even throw a party." Mischevious grin. When he heard the girl's small voice, he turned to her and raised an eyebrow. Then tugged on an end of his hair thoughtfully. He didn't recognize the language, and she sure didn't sound like a Freedom City native. Foreign exchange student?

"Cerys Pefr, huh...bit more melodic than Morgan Crowe, heh." Amiable smile. "If you don't mind my asking, what language is that?"

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She was in awe at the two's conversation, she wouldn't have expected anyone in the outside world to have anything like this converation. Then again she was beginning to suspect that this was no ordinary school.

“Besides a solitary Tylwyth Teg probably wouldn't dwell this far in the city...†she mumbled to herself thinking out loud.

It took her a few second to realize that the conversation had now turned around to her, but no time at all to answer Morgan's question

“I'm Welsh.†her face showed intense pride

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"That's great!" exclaimed Subito happily, beaming at Cerys "Welsh are pretty awesome, it's a pleasure to meet you Cerys. Sorry you met Morgan like this," he added seriously "But it seems like a terrible fate is upon him for so many of his first impressions with new students to be like this" he swung himself into a standing position to be more on her eye level, looking like a sailor in the cross-trees(if sailors wore blue headbands and yellow athletic shirts with blue shorts). "If you don't mind me asking..what's a 'Twylyth Teg'? Woods fairy?"

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Morgan gave Cerys a far more interested look; almost eerily so. For a moment his eyes looked like no less than a hunting bird's in intensity - combined with his posture, he definitley gave the impression of a perched crow.

"...Twylyth Teg. Huh. Don't usually refer to them that politely." He tapped his head in a silent salute, but his shoulders tensed slightly. Definitley clued. But given his relationship with the bulk of the Tuatha and their boys... "Means the Fair Folk, Sube. Sidhe. Fae. Term's used singular or en masse."

The teen shook his head, and the tension fairly melted out of him. Then he grinned, properly this time. "Welsh, though? Huh, you'll have to teach me the language sometime. Nice to meet someone from properly over the pond!"

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Whilst she was happy that these two were giving her such a warm welcome, but she was still a little overwhelmed. She managed a smile but couldn’t bring herself to look either of them in the eye.

“Thank you both, it’s very kind of you.â€

Morgan’s explanation had her in two minds. The professional part of her brain noted that he had obviously had some bad dealing with the Fae, and made a note to find out more. The other part of her felt a little sorry for bring up bad memories, this part one out and she subconsciously bowed her head and began fidgeting with her book.

“Well the Tylwyth Tegaren’t aligned with either court, so they’re easier to deal with. Though they still can still be as caprious as any of the Fae.†She wasn't sure why she'd said it, it just sort of came out.

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"There are uncourted fae, or however you call it?" asked Subito with obvious curiosity "How does that work? I don't know much about fae types," he admitted with a sheepish glance at Morgan "but I do know that living without the protection of a larger society and the support network of a civilization can get pretty difficult" he considered this for a few seconds "Are there lots of mini-factions too? I was under the impression that fae lived in a pretty 'either-or' sort of world, where the courts have this monopoly of power he shrugged, the familiar sensation that he was listening to a conversation he had little to input nagging at him "I suppose I anthropomorphized them a little bit. Do they even have or need governments and production systems?"

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“Tylwyth Teg, it means Fair Folk. They have a King and Queen just like any other kind of Fae.†The information came out almost automatically; she’d been tested on this many times already. “Whilst the Aos Si are the largest and most dominate court, there are a number of lesser known smaller courts. The Tylwyth Teg are just one of them, sometime they are allies and sometime they fight.â€

Looking up and noticing the two of them listening to her explanation all her confidence seemed to flow away.

“Or at least that what I heard. I’ve only met them once.â€

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The third party lounged on his branch, making a face at all the talk of the Fair Folk. Lazily, he tossed in his own two cents, closing his eyes and enjoying the cool breeze up in the higher branches.

"And that's not getting into the Tuatha, changelings, Seelie and Unseelie, and the ones Vicky's told me about from Russia; rusalkas, domovoi and polevoi..."

He ticked them off on his fingers, then shrugged. "Though honestly, the Slavic ones tend to be a lot more civil than the European ones. And grimmer." Wry smile. "As in they'll usually try and off you, but at least they'll be nice about it. En masse, fae tend to be jerks."

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The powerfully-built youth stared at Cerys and Morgan alternately, remarking cheerfully after a couple of seconds "I had no idea the situation was so complex! It'll be quite enthralling to learn more about how their world works. So Ms. Pefr," he said, turning back to Cerys "You're from Wales, know at least five times as much as the average Joe about the Twylyth Teg, and overall strike me as a very cool person. How'd you come to Claremont? Can you use magic or something? I have a national spirit that gives me superpowers when I ask for 'em" he frowned "We don't actually have many magicians here, I wonder why" he looked thoughtfully at some point several hundred feet from where he was, where two other students were talking loudly about friends of theirs outside of the academy.

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To keep an eye on someone, possibly even your friend here, and make sure there not in league with possible disruptive forces.

Subito's kind words made her again blush, she of cause knew that being Welsh was cool, but it still nice when someone else confirmed it.

“I don't have any powers. I inherited an ancient family legacy. I have an ancient magical sword, Dyrnwyn, and my family is tasked with fighting evil.â€

The well practice cover story just rolled out of her mouth, and it was to most part true, after all the Order was to all extent and purposes the only family she had ever know.

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"A magic sword?" breathed Subito in awe at something so simple and so far beyond his expectations even then. "That is awesome! Can I see it? What does it do?" he turned to Morgan and asked excitedly "Is there a lot of stuff like that in the world, or are they pretty rare? Because if there is a single unclaimed magic sword in the world, I am going to find it and give it to somebody for Christmas" he thought that over "...Or maybe just give it to somebody really strong who won't be easily beaten by all the people who might come looking for a magic sword" he frowned for a few seconds at the unexpected complications of such a simple matter as obtaining an enchanted blade before turning back to Cerys "Also, did any of your relatives come with you in case that evil you mentioned attacks?" he looked her over and added quickly "Er, not that I don't think you're a good fighter, of course"

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Morgan gave Cerys another...interesting...look, but it didn't hold up long under a determined assault by a more lazy expression. Inwardly, he mused on the meaning of the term coincidence - and made a mental note to invite the girl to a training session sometime. Magic sword and magic coat in accord? Very interesting indeed!

Though the name Dyrnwyn rung some bells in his head; he couldn't quite place it, though. Mental note, check the Parkhurst library sometime...ah well. "Heh, you don't get a lot of magic types around here, no. But only one with rune magic. Hee." A grin, and the teenager flickered. His image rippled. And then he simply wasn't there.

A voice came from the spot he formerly occupied. "Now you see me, now you don't. Heehee." Another flicker of air and Morgan was right back where he started, grinning. "Sticking to the family tradition, I got a lot of respect for that. Same here, my dad used to be a hero right here in FC way back when."

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Runes? That tended to suggest the Norse pantheon or magical system, but then again many called any ancient writings "runes" including the Celtic Oghams.

She filed this away as useful information. She resisted using the mantle to do the same trick as Morgan could, it was a technical device and didn't quite fit the cover story she was using.

And besides she hadn't had a chance to check on Dyrnwyn , with all the effort to smuggle the blade through customs she hadn't seen the blade since the flight from Cardiff.

From a tube attached to her rucksack, containing all her worldly possessions, she drew the broadsword from it's sheath. She had to do it in one, admittedly impressive, sweeps as once it left the scarab the blade burst into flames. Sweeping it in an arc she put one hand on the blade and other on the handle, presenting the sword towards the others.

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Reaching out a hand to take the sword, Subito handled it with a reverence more befitting a holy relic than an enchanted weapon. he stared at the burning surface for well over a minute before examining the rest of the item with great care, running a finger just above the flames and feeling the very real heat that emanated from the mystic fire. "This is..wow" he breathed, enthralled by something he had previously only imagined actually being in his hands. After handling it with as much care as a china cup and hefting it with microscopic daintiness to feel its weight, edge and smooth blade, he offered it handle-first to Morgan "Give it a try, it's an amazing sword" he urged the subtler student.

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Morgan eyed the flaming blade, and reached a hand...then an image struck his mind. An orb of roiling energy. It hung there for a moment, and he blinked. And pulled his hand back, shaking his head. A slightly awkward expression on his face. The mental image was ruthlessly locked away, shoved into a box, covered with chains, and buried somewhere dark and out of sight.

"Ah...no thanks, Sube. I...prefer shorter blades."

Weak smile, and he shifted a bit on his branch. Coughed a bit. And looked everywhere but the sword for a bit.

"Powerful artefact, though; a family heirloom?"

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Blodeuwedd was about to warn the pair about the legends that the sword would burn the unworthy, but Morgan's reaction cut her short. But why didn't he want to touch the sword?

Her brain whirled with all the options... Did he know about the story that the sword would burn the unworthy?... If so was it because he thought he was or had come into contact with something corrupted, or did he consider himself somehow unworthy? ...Many of the order wouldn't risk the sword, and she wouldn't have been allowed if she gone into artifact retrieval... Maybe he could sense the power of the sword?... Many old magical items could be overwhelming to the senses, or maybe he had the power of Psychometry... Or could it be that he had some Fae blood?...Then the problem could be with the metal of the blade itself...

What surprised her was how she wanted it to be some innocent mistake, that she was misreading something, and he wasn't guilty of anything. So instead she concentrated on answer his question about the sword.

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“The sword according to legend has been in my family since the time of Rhydderch the Generious, ruler of Alt Clut in the 6th century. My ancestor was gifted the sword after defeating Rhydderch in battle when he an others attacked Gwynedd.†she gave a little thought and added “Alt Clut is in Scotland and Gwynedd is in North Wales.â€

She'd heard all the arguments on whether the sword was really Rhydderch's or not, but she liked to believe it really was his sword.

“Since then my family has used the sword to defend the country from all sort of threats. I've been training to use the sword since I was little.â€

That wasn't totally true, she had been trained by the order to recover artifacts and defiantly not for this kind of field work. She had seen the sword and known about it, but had never expected to actually wield the blade.

“It's a great honour to be allowed to carry my ancestral sword.â€

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"It is an honor to hold it, Cerys" declared Subito gleefully, slipping into his El Heraldo manner for a moment as he gave the sword a wondering look, and returned it a little more slowly than he ought to "Not to mention completely behind someone nicknamed 'The Generous!'" he added. Leaning back against a thick offshoot behind him, he asked curiously "Training since you were a kid? I know a little about that, but I bet yours was a lot more intense than mine, I wasn't brought up in a family that fought Evil as a family pastime"

He listened to the two other students a ways off arguing over whether the solemn teen knight Hodge or the fiery prince Golbasto would win in a fight, a variation on a weirdly(or so he thought) common topic at the school. A sudden realization occurred to him and he asked abruptly.

"Oh wait, your forebear got Dyrnwyn for defeating Rhydderch? Why did he attack Gwynedd? Was the title meant ironically or did it not actually mean he was a very kindly person, just lavish in giving? Was he avenging a real or imagined slight, making a grab for territory, trying to distract the Welsh living around Gwynedd while an ally attacked somewhere else?" he sat down against the stem, resting his head in a convenient(if cold) fork.

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