Neart walked in the Darkness far under the ground. Her eyes glowing in the pitch black of the caves than Máthair Bandia had made for her to learn the movements and designs of the Gray Man. Her eyes took all the information in and it was known to the Máthair damhán alla and her Infinite children about the world. Their eyes gave her the knowledge she needed to serve Máthair Bandia and Máthair damhán alla both.

Máthair Bandia had explained in detail that she was to walk under the earth, in the darkness where the Gray Man had no power and see if she could see a link from Him to Siobhan in the world below. She was to do nothing save see, explore, find. She would kill of course, as long as it did not conflict with Máthair Bandia, Neart was fairly certain all would be well. Such delicious things were burrowing in the darkness of the world, dozens, hundreds of times larger than Máthair damhán alla had ever shared with her Infinite Children, or perhaps even she in her ancient glory had not seen such things. Neart could not feel the emotions of Máthair damhán alla or the Infinite Children, but her hunger on seeing these monstrosities nearly brought her to her knees. She knew Máthair damhán alla would send children out to where she was now that it was explored and known to them all, never would they worry about food again.

Her brother, Dara, had given her a gift before she left. A blade that was nearly identical to the sheen of her skin. A long blade that went from her hip and followed the line of her leg to just above the ankle. Fiacail, Dara had called it, bringing a smile to his sister’s face. The sheathe was nearly invisible as it sat on her leg and when she asked him how he could produce such an amazing thing so quickly he merely responded with a smile and “That is what Máthair Bandia, created me for, to protect in all things. She had thanked him profusely and kissed him softly on the forehead before turning and not looking back, not knowing if she would ever see this man she was so inexorably bonded to ever again.

Even as she walked her fingers never strayed far from the nearly invisibly thin blade, ready to see how sharp it truly was to those who would dare confront of the daughter of Máthair Bandia and Máthair damhán alla both, though in truth she secretly longed to bloody the blade and show Dara that she too was capable of taking care of more than just the worries and deeds of Máthair damhán alla alone. She thought of herself as a Daughter, a being made by the Goddess of Darkness herself, her memories and form shaped by the most powerful and perfect creation there could ever be. She would prove by deed and word both that she was worthy of the glorious gift that she was given in this body, as gigantic as it was to her mind that still thought as a child of Máthair damhán alla would.

She walked on, the quiet dark soothing to her and always was her mind and had ready to serve.

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